[021] & [005] | OTA

[unsleeved]

Who: Daryl & Everyone, Jesse & Everyone
Where: Here there and everywhere
When: 3/20 - 3/27
Rating: R for language and drug use and whatnot
Summary: Event catchall thingy for both Daryl & Jesse
The Story:

Ha, fooled you, there is totally something under this cut. And that something is a PLEASE SEE COMMENTS notice. Subheadings for different places/times/people (if needed)/etc.

ALSO if anyone has the burning desire to do anything in any of the other areas (with either Daryl or Jesse), hit me up via PM or PP and we can work it out. C:

...OKAY GO!!

Comments

Daryl | Beach

[unsleeved]

[As he's not a fan of even the average level of confinement the Mansion offers, Daryl had high-tailed it out of the whole damn thing after only one night's sleep on the strange, swinging bed; the fact that he'd lasted even a day in the unnaturally claustrophobic (and oddly sinister, in some areas) Mansion is something even he doesn't quite understand as he makes his way outside with the intention of heading for the openness of the woods. He should have just done it the day before, but there's no use pissing and moaning about that shit when he can just head out now, right?

Except that... There are no woods. Just water, and while that should be cause for alarm, he's been through so much here that all he can do is shrug his shoulders, take a nice long drag of the smoke he's been nursing while strolling across the grounds, and head for the dock. It's nice, or nicer than it has been, and so he can't resist the siren song of bare feet dangling off the side as he finishes off his cigarette. It's too strong, and the water's so inviting...

At least until he sinks down with a sigh and his toes skim the surface; the reaction takes him by surprise, enough that he moves to haul himself up with a yelp and then, failing that because what the hell happened to his legs, shoves himself forward and into the water cigarette and all. If he'd had the chance, he might have wondered why flinging himself off of a dock had seemed like the best idea... But once he's submerged all he can focus on is the fact that although he's most definitely underwater... He's also most definitely breathing. He makes for the surface anyway, and anyone watching should be oh-so-relieved when his soggy head pops up from beneath the waves. He rubs at his eyes as he sucks in a lungful of air, tail (!?) lashing behind him easily to propel him back toward the dock.

Sputtering out of reflex, he leans his forehead against his arms briefly before picking his head up again, meaning to pull himself back up... But then, how many chances is he gonna get to really check out what's going on out here? He'd tried it when he'd been made of metal but he hadn't gotten very far...

There could be something. A way out, something that could change that god-awful future... A sea monster to stalk.]

...Hell with it.

[This fin crap... It's temporary, right? He can work with that.

And he does. For the majority of the event, Daryl will be rocking the merman, fishing, exploring... Enjoying himself, but only a little. YOLO, y'all.

...His boots, throughout this ordeal, will remain perched happily the edge of the dock. Steal them at your own peril, though, 'cause he has a harpoon gun and he'll find you.]

[[ooc: DARYL WILL BE ALL ABOUT THE FINNY FUN UP IN HERE. He'll be a little wary of dealing with other people at first- because as a mer-dude he won't have his layers of plaid and leather to keep his back and shoulders covered... But he'll be ignoring that in the hopes that anyone he meets will assume any and all scarring is part of the whole fish-guy thing. HAVE AT HIM.]

[five_oh]

[ It's only in passing that Blake — a female Blake dressed in some ratty jeans, worn Converse, and a couple layers — happens to catch Daryl's boots out of the corner of her eye. In some ways, it's surprising, in other ways, it's entirely indicative of Wonderland, isn't it? Someone just... left their shoes behind, probably in favor of fins, if the location and what she's been hearing on the network is any indication.

Blake moves to investigate the boots, just in time to see a head bob up in the water. She squints, arguing with her windswept hair, and quickly decides it's Daryl she's seeing. Pushing her sleeves up above her elbows, she moves down the dock and then crouches by the edge.

"Always heard there were some pretty big fish 'round here. Didn't think that meant Daryl Dixon," she muses, voice rather low and husky (not in the sexy way, but the maybe it the way that people would assume she smokes too much). ]

[unsleeved]

[Daryl's head disappears almost as soon as Blake spots it, back down into the dark with no trace of where he's gotten off to...

And if you thought he was stealthy as a regular person, it's nothing compared to the utterly silent way in which he emerges again a few minutes later, this time off to the side of the dock, behind the unfamiliar woman crouched there.

All that's fully visible is his head, though the water on other side of him ripples and if you squint, there's something long and sharp clutched in his hand and a long, slightly shimmering tail that fades into the dark of the newly expanded ocean beneath him.

...There's also a bit of seaweed stuck in his hair, and he does not give a single shit about it, the very embodiment of "gone native".]

Ain't no fish... And them tentacles ain't mine.

[Splish splash.]

[five_oh]

[ There's a bit more shock and surprise associated with this scenario than is likely typical for Blake. She jumps at the voice — just a little start — and then turns on both heels to give Daryl a you're such an asshole look, even if she doesn't mean it. ]

There're tentacles in there? There goes takin' a swim any time soon...

[ That last part is muttered as her dark eyes drift to look over the water, and eventually back to Daryl. Oh, you barrel-chested man, don't you know that tail looks good on you? Except, there is one thing bothering Blake. ]

Hold on, you've got— [ She gestures to her own head to illustrate his seaweed problem and then makes to reach out, albeit tentatively, to pluck it from Daryl's hair. ]

[breakthecurse]

[Tohru had wandered out to go for a walk on the beach. It seemed like a good idea, and there's so much more of it now! It's really amazing how Wonderland could do things like that.

But when she gets there, she looks curiously at the dock, and the boots there. They seem familiar, but she can't quite place who they belong to. They belong to somebody though, and she looks around...but, there doesn't seem to be anyone around. Or at least, no one that Tohru can see.

She waits a minute to see if anyone comes up, but nothing happens. Naturally, she starts to wonder if someone's drowned.]

...Hello? Excuse me? Is...is someone here? Are you o-

[As she's calling out, the waves roll up over her shoes, getting her socks soaking wet, and that's all it takes. Her legs feel strange and she is immediately unsteady. She flails, trying really hard not to fall, but she pitches forward anyway and lands in the water with a rough splash. She pushes herself up on her palms and gasps for air (she's never really been the best swimmer). Unfortunately she still can't seem to get up, so she flips herself over instead and...

...and there's a pink fin where her legs should be. She's shocked, but she takes a second to test it carefully, lifting her new tail fin up and down. There's something amazing about it, even if she would much rather have her legs.

It's when she reaches out to touch them that she realizes her shirt is gone though, and that she only has a standard (though very pink) mermaid top on. And that is what makes her shriek loudly, scoot backwards, and seek deeper water. That way, no one will be able to see that she's not fully dressed anymore and she can try to just hide in her embarrassment (even though she's made as much noise as someone could possibly make while turning into a fish).]

[unsleeved]

[What has the world come to that a nice, relaxing stroll on the beach has to end it screaming and flailing...?

Oh, right. Wonderland.

For once, though, Daryl's actually enjoying himself; mild body horror aside, he's faster, stronger, better equipped for one of his favourite pastimes, and after the sorts of events they've been having he's gotta say that this definitely qualifies as, if not a legitimate vacation, pretty damn close to a break. And he's okay with that.

Today he's been busying himself with trying to fashion nets with small enough holes to capture those tiny, brightly coloured fish that keep swimming by him. Not to eat them, of course, they're too small... But just to see if he can. It's been passing the time, anyway, and he's content.

As fate would have it, he's content in Tohru's general vicinity, having just chased a school back toward the beach. It wasn't his intention and he doesn't realize how close he's strayed until he hears the splashing and the yelping, but naturally once he does he can't help moving closer to make sure it's just your standard fish-legs transformation and nothing more.

Yeah. The fish leg thing is officially normal. Stick that in your pipe and smoke it.

It takes him all of thirty seconds to glide through the water and even less time than that for him to spot a flash of pink up ahead. Drifting closer, he lets his head emerge from under the waves as he calls out to the bobbing figure.]

Hey! You alright over there?

[He's got a spear in one hand and a net in the other, but aside from that he's looking a bit less aggravated than usual. This level of freedom is doing him good and besides, it's hard to look menacing when you're sporting a slightly shimmery greenish-brown tail...

It swishes behind him, propelling him closer as he squints to get a better look at who's just joined him in the fishpeople club.]

[breakthecurse]

[Tohru's looking around her desperately, hoping that maybe her clothes are floating around somewhere. They don't seem to be anywhere though, so she keeps everything below her shoulders submerged.

She's startled when someone calls out to her, and instinctively crosses her arms in front of her when she turns (even though no one can see anything with her in the water).]

I-I! I'm okay! I-I just, I...I don't know what happened to my...feet...o-or my shirt...

[Wow, that all sounds really silly now that it's out of her mouth. She looks down, embarrassed. But then, it sinks in just who was asking, and she lift her head up again.]

...Daryl?

[Ah! Those must have been his boots on the dock then! That's really good - it would have been awful if someone really had drowned out here.]

Daryl | Carnival

[unsleeved]

[Eventually, Daryl will work out that drying off will put him right, and during the last couple of days of the event he'll do that, once he's exhausted all forms of exploration/entertainment/under the sea shenanigans.

He'll eventually find himself at the carnival, drawn by the lights and commotion and the fact that by this point he'll probably know to avoid the gazebo like the fucking plague, where he'll proceed to destroy the games. Get ready, shoot-the-star, Daryl Dixon is coming for you. Or maybe darts. Or whatever other carnival thing, the bottle breaking business... You name it, and he'll be doing it (while staring the vendors down because they're creepy bastards and they're CHEATERS THOSE BOTTLES ARE GLUED TO THOSE SHELVES).

Every once in a while he'll spot his father or Merle out of the corner of his eye... But he probably won't be acknowledging it much. Mostly chilled out carnival business up in here. Daryl's getting a break this time around.

...He also may or may not be aged to his thirties for this one, if only physically.]

Jesse | Gazebo

[cowhouse]

[Jesse starts his day off like any other (aside from the waking up in a weird hammock thing, which he's totally over): late, groggy, and in desperate need of a smoke. Sure, he could have stayed inside- in either his room or his lounge- but a bleary-eyed glance at the window and the blessedly snow-free grounds are more than enough of a push to get him to hop into his jeans and a hoodie and shuffle outside for some nice above freezing fresh air.

And it's just business as usual- fishing his cigarettes out as he walks, realizing that he'd left his lighter in his other jeans, wandering back inside for his friggin' lighter, marveling at how the friggin' mansion's all different again- right up until the point when it ceases to be normal and careens into WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING TO ME territory. The universe is at least kind enough to let him finish his cigarette, but it all goes to hell on his way back to his room- If there's a threshold it's not a marked one, but he steps over it just the same, and even before pulling out his phone to check his reflection, he knows something's up, and the feeling is confirmed when he swears and his own (?) voice sounds... Different. Not gravelly-smokey different, but...]

Shit. [Beat.] Oh come on, really? [He whips around, phone in hand.] Seriously? Oh my god--

[There will be some initial (and blatant) self-groping, so feel free to walk in on that stupidity... But after that Jesse's only actual option is to light up another cigarette... And then spend the next three days or so wandering around trying his very best to not lose his shit until it goes away. He can be found pretty much anywhere at any time, but the places he'll be frequenting the most are the same as usual: his lounge, the kitchen (or diner), etc, with some periodic, semi-frantic pacing around the gazebo in the hopes that it'll turn him back into himself. His male, junk-having self.

...No seriously, where's his junk? This is his main concern.]

[onsilksheets]

[The next time Bela wanted to investigate a new gazebo, she was going to do the exact opposite and stay far away. It's her second day of being a man and well, she was hating it. The only compensation being that Bela made for an attractive man.

Yep, she's shallow. Deal with it.

Bela goes to kitchen around eleven in the morning to make herself some breakfast, hoping that it would pick up her mood. Her hair is a little ruffled (god, how she missed having it long) and she looks tired, but at least she's sharply dressed, right?]

[cowhouse]

[Yeah, you know what, next time Jesse's just... Not gonna leave his room. No exploring, no wandering, just smoking up the bedroom like nature intended.

(The beds and the dreams, whatever, he's over that by now. The girl thing can suck it, though.)

Still, despite his less than irresistible urge to leave his room, like, ever again, the fact remains that if he wants real food- and he does- he's gonna have to take a trip down to the kitchen.

He doesn't bother going outside his usual routine of throw-on-clothes and walk-out-door, and so when he finally shuffles downstairs, he's barefoot and, for lack of a better word, a mess: his hair, his long hair that'd been SO ANNOYING trying to sleep with the night before, is pulled up inexpertly in a hasty bun on top of his head, the pieces that've escaped the too-loose band sticking up this way and that; he's wearing his usual clothes, though they're even bigger on him now, if that's even possible, t-shirt sliding off of his shoulder and hanging down to just under his kneecaps, obnoxiously patterned pajama pants massive and tied as tightly as possible, rolled up to allow him to walk without tripping...

It's... Not pretty. He looks as tired as he would after the world's most intense sleepover, and as crabby as if someone at said sleepover put his bra in the freezer as a joke. Yeah, real funny.

(He'd nixed the bra after like five minutes the day before- fuck that noise.)

IN ANY CASE, he barely pays any attention to the unfamiliar dude who's already in the kitchen, just a generic "yo" before reaching into the fridge for the milk, completely unrecognizable... Except for his tattoo; his sleeves may come down past his elbows, but that much, at least, is visible, dark against his paler-than-usual skin.]

[onsilksheets]

[The 'yo' is so jarringly familiar, and Bela has to turn to look at whomever was addressing him. She can only see the back of them at the moment but talk about a mess: from the hair right down to the clothes. Bela shouldn't be judgy but she wouldn't really let anyone see her in such a state. Artfully messy hair and expensive silk pjs all the way for her.

She sets down her tea mug, looking over the woman until her gaze settles on the tattoo. Oddly familiar, just like the yo.

It can't be, right? But if Bela could be turned into a man, then surely...]

Jesse? Is that you? [She's still getting used to the deep masculine voice, yep.]

Jesse | Playground

[cowhouse]

[Because all good things must come to an end, eventually Wonderland will see fit to give Jesse his dude-body back, and naturally that means he'll go from one pain in the ass thing to another pain in the ass thing. In an effort to stay as far away from the stupid gazebo as possible, Jesse chooses to hit the playground instead... Because it's a playground, come on.

What could go wrong...?

A lot. A lot can and does go wrong: after crossing yet another line he hadn't been aware was a thing to be mindful of, Wonderland at large will be treated to the horrors of a fifteen year old Jesse Pinkman. I HOPE YOU LIKE GRAFFITI, WONDERLAND, BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT YOU'RE GETTING.

Jesse will be spending at least a few hours with spray paint of all colours and a deep-seated desire to cover every inch of playground equipment in doodles and swear words. Also smoking up behind the equipment. And that's just outside, eventually he'll get bored and take his trashing everything in sight into the Mansion, skateboard and all. Juvenile delinquency at its very finest, is what we're saying here. Anyone wanna get into some trouble??]

Re: Jesse | Playground

[evilhandissues]

[This, Lindsey can get behind. He's always admired delinquents. It comes from his brother who's doing time, his sister who's dating a guy doing time, his future nephew who will most likely do time... the one thing he can't see is himself doing time. The thought fills him with a deep sense of anger and shame.]

Fuck what system? I mean I always thought that was kinda, y'know lame. Should be more specific.

[Said the boy with really long hair, dangly legs and shoes that are more duct tape then shoe]

Re: Jesse | Playground

[cowhouse]

The whole system of systems, bitch-- [Said with a half-smoked cigarette dangling from his lips, dropping ash onto the toe of his sneaker with every word.] Like-- Come on, yo, do they seriously think we're just gonna like roll over and do whatever just cuz they say so?

[He rattles his spray can before scrawling the finishing touch on the giant stylized middle finger he's gracing the underside of the slide with.

He flaps his hand toward where Lindsey's sitting while he continues his tirade.]

Hey, uh, yo-- you wanna pass me the green? This shit needs way more green... Anyway, seriously, man, these events are bullshit--

[Apparently now he's ranting about the Wonderland system. He's a regular Enjolras okay.] Yesterday I had boobs. I mean... What the hell?? How is that cool?

Re: Jesse | Playground

[evilhandissues]

[Lindsey tosses the can at him, watching passively, head tilted to the side] I get you, I mean just - specifics. Like my brother - he's trying to steal shit for his kid and he gets sent upstate for not getting Clara diapers? That's retarded.

[More squinting] ...You had boobs.

I mean boobs by themselves are cool but they gotta be ...like attached to a girl. [Does he suddenly look super shy?] Like, a hot blonde.

[onsilksheets]

[There's a girl about fourteen on the swings in the corner, but she isn't exactly enthusiastic about it. Her feet are dragging along the sand as she swings slowly back and forth, her expression sombre. It looks like she's been crying: her eyes are slightly puffy and red, tear streaks on her cheeks.]

[cowhouse]

[Jesse'd been so intent on scribbling his latest masterpiece on the side of the maintenance building that he hadn't seen or heard the girl approaching the swings, but she doesn't have to wait long before catching his attention; the time it takes him to set his spray can down and head over to her is even less, because come on-- like he's gonna pass up the chance to check her out.

He's wiping his hands on his jeans as he approaches, staining the front with green in a way that almost looks intentional, artful... Though the cigarette pinched between his lips probably ruins the effect, as does the beanie that's pulled down to his eyebrows. Other than that he looks... Almost the same as usual: sans-scruff, a bit shorter, and if possible, even skinnier.

His demeanor is just about identical, too, the way he makes his way over to the girl all fifteen year old inflated ego despite the fact that he hasn't even recognized her yet.

There's a smile on his face as he walks... But it does dull somewhat once her body language registers as Less Than Thrilled, and it melts into a full-blown frown at the tear tracks when he's close enough to spot them.

Suddenly feeling a little out of his element, he stuffs a hand into his pocket.]

Hey-- Hey, uh... You okay?

[Look, he even has the decency to blow his smoke away from her. Such a gentleman...]

[johnnyblake]

[ It's been a bit weird for Johnny (sometimes John, he's started to claim) this last day or so. After watching over the asylum for longer than he should have, he ran into several shady types in the hallways of the mansion. Beyond that, he's been having trouble sleeping thanks to the dreams, so when he takes to the outside world for a little fresh air, he really needs it.

Returning to the playground seems like the thing to do, too. At least there are swings there. And probably other younger people, too, which doesn't generally appeal, but at least he won't stick out.

It's not immediately clear that someone's milling around until an oh-so lucky grasp on a piece of playground equipment comes with wet paint.

Blake marvels at it, hand held up into the air. ] What the fuck...?

[cowhouse]

[Yeah, weird does even begin to cut it. Between the sudden kid explosion in the halls, the beds, and the fucking boobs he'd been sporting for the past few days, Jesse's about had his fill of weird.

This crap that's going on now, though, this... Age thing, that he can deal with. He still knows who he is, and more importantly where he is... But he just doesn't give a fuck. Comes with that fifteen year old mentality of being the master of his own whatever, the bravado spawned by the invulnerable feeling of someone who hasn't been through hell and back just yet. He has, of course he has... But it's so easy to push that away and just do him this way, like he doesn't have a care in the world.

It's kinda nice, and he's gonna take advantage of life without the weight of life on him for as long as he can. He's gonna have fun, because fuck the consequences. For a few days, at least.

And so naturally he's been making a mess of everything, scrawling his calling card on just about anything that'll stand still long enough. Which, yes, includes the thrilling piece of equipment Blake's just put his hand on.

At the sound of the swear, Jesse pokes his head out from behind the slide where he's already busying himself with another work of art, frowning.]

Hey, watch the paint, yo!

[He straightens and crosses his arms. LOOK AT HOW INTIMIDATING HE IS JUST LOOK.]

[itsahotone]

[Good god what are you doing]

Excuse me. Your super macho litter-display is kinda in my way.

[Let's just assume there's some kind of trash or whatnot around. SHH.]

[cowhouse]

[ART, YO, HE'S DOING ART.]

...What? [Jesse cranes his neck to peer up at Santana from where he's laying flat on his back to continue his picture on the underside of the slide, frowning as his gaze bounces between her and the mess of empty spray paint cans strewn around the general area.

And then he rolls his eyes.] Seriously? Come on, can't you like walk around it? [He flops back down with a huff.] It's not that bad.

[And he's totally kind of in the middle of something, here. This is some very important vandalism he's doing!!]

rolls up in here with starbucks

[hypercompetent]

[ stiles is, thankfully, blissfully, at least sort of normal. he's sixteen, not in isaac's body, not a five year old, not a chick, and not a merman, so you know what? he's going to take that as a win.

when he pops outside looking to take stock of the rest of his merry group of beacon hillsites, stiles pauses, spotting a dude painting graffiti on the side wall of the mansion.

it's a good thing that stiles' dad isn't here, because he strolls right up, hands in the pockets of his jeans, and lets out a long, low whistle. ] Dude, I'd tell you you're being hella cliche, but this is sweet.

STARBUCKS YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAH

[cowhouse]

[...Yeah. Yeah, Jesse is totally board with that. To say he was relived to wake up with his junk firmly where his junk belongs and not a tit in sight (!!) would be the understatement of the century. There are some things that are sacred, things like coin flips, picking dare in truth or dare, and moving a guy's junk when he's not looking. You just don't do that.

And so he can deal with the odd zit, like, yes please may I have another, so long as there's an understanding that boobs- while undeniably awesome- do not belong attached to his person. Deal, Wonderland??

IN ANY CASE. Jesse is so very deeply enthralled by his vandalism that he actually jumps when the guy speaks up, nearly dropping his cigarette onto his oh-so-cliche sneakers.

...And he'd totally make a thing out of it, because not cool, yo, spray paint has no eraser, but... It is pretty sweet, random dude, thanks for noticing!

He turns, lips quirked up into a smirk, to express his gratitude:]

Hell yeah it is. Cliches are cliches for a reason, yo-- [What does that even mean? We'll never know.

Jesse flicks ash from the end of his smoke.] Kinda ran out of room out there- [a vague hand-flap in the direction of the playground] -and this wall was like begging for it. I mean come on, look at it. All that-- that emptiness. Lame.

Jesse | Carnival

[cowhouse]

To top off the week, probably for the last day or two, Jesse (twenty-five year old Jesse, probably) will finally make it to the carnival, shot nerves and all. Where his nerves will be even more shot, because this is Wonderland not the McDonald's Playplace; in between cheating at carnival games (shut up he wants a goldfish) and breaking into the house of mirrors (shut up he's missed causing mostly harmless trouble), he'll swear up and down that people from home are totally stalking him you guys. He'll be seeing Hank and Mr. White... And Jane, too, but only in whatever haunted house type thing they have going on and she will not look happy.

He may even answer questions about the people he's seeing... Partially truthfully.

Feel free to run into him doing anything here, too many scenarios to narrow it down. (Also, I'd be down for mixing this one and the de-aging, so if you wanna run into him spray painting giant pot leaves onto one of the carnie tents or trailers on the outskirts of the carnival, that's an option too. Just specify that that's what you wanna do!)]