entrancelogs | + Wanted to get it real home-like... +

Entry tags:

+ Wanted to get it real home-like... +

Who: EVERYONE!
Where: EVERYWHERE!
When: ANYT-- Friday, February 20 to Monday, February 23
Rating: An average PG-13? (Consider warning for explicit sexual or violent content in your thread's subject line)
Summary:
For the duration of this event each character will discover that their room has been replaced with one of their own memories, one that they find themselves particularly happy or "at home" in. More information can be found here.

This log is an opportunity for your characters to describe the memory playing in their room, so that other characters might visit, and watch the scene unfold. To help browse the collection better, please include your character's name, and their room number in the subject line (e.g. Seta Souji - 100, 6th floor) of your top-level comment.

Rooms/Comments may be locked to certain people, or be available for all to see & visit. Log participation is completely and entirely voluntary.

Have fun!

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It was good to hear that at least in the time that Lydia was from, they'd cleared out a lot of the problems in their little town. When Scott had talked to him about it before, it had sounded like there was still work to be done, like he couldn't really catch a break. Maybe they were finally due for some peace and quiet back there.

Steve would like to think so, anyway. He knew from his own life that there really wasn't such a thing as a dull moment, but he'd also signed up for that. It sounded like Lydia and Scott had stumbled into it, and that wasn't fair.

"He mentioned that," he said when Lydia spoke of other kinds of monsters. It was hard to know what to make of it when Steve hadn't seen it for himself, but then Lydia made that offer. She was trusting with it. She'd already told him what to expect, so now it's just a matter of seeing it with his own eyes.

"I might just do that," he decided after a pause. Now that he had her permission, he'd have to find a good time to head over there and not attract too much attention to himself when he did it.

He took another look at the scene around them. "Any questions about this?" he asked. "You've answered a lot of mine."

The first remark gets a raise of her brows, and the next few don't impress. It's amazing how much of a distaste she has for other demons now, and that seems to extend to the original make and model. Her gaze narrows and she knows she's being manipulated, but doesn't feel compelled to protest until she has to go and say that. Lilith gets an eyeroll of epic proportions and Meg practically laughs in her face.

"What, kissing my ass because your precious Ruby bit the dust? Never took you for the sentimental type."

Edited 2015-03-11 16:41 (UTC)

He gives a faint nod, turning his attention back to the child. In some ways, he's envious of the time Rebekah spent with Hope - or the time she will spend, at least. He only had her for a day, at most, before she had to be sent away.

That was his fault. Rebekah had once told him there was nobody else to blame, only him. The situation had been entirely different, and yet it wasn't. It was family, it's always about family, and because of his actions he now has enemies who would love nothing more than to use his daughter as punishment.

Really, it's not much better than what he's done to others. None of this is sound out loud, though he is unnaturally quiet before he speaks again.

"I've told Kol that she's alive. Cami as well." Already, there's a part of his that regrets the decision, manifested from years of paranoia and distrust of everyone. What if that backfires in his face? With a heavy sigh, he rubs a hand over his face. "With our family returned from the dead, it's more important than ever we keep her safe once we return."

As he says it, his mind begins to plan and plot. His efforts in building a werewolf army have proven a failure thus far, but he knows that surrounding his daughter with them is one of the best options. Though they won't follow willingly, Klaus is a master at manipulation. This is certainly what he plans to do, as soon as he deals with those bloody rings.

"Lucky you," she fires back with a quirk of her lips, immediately liking him at least a little. Maybe Cas wasn't the only half-decent angel after all. His question makes her smile fondly and chuckle. "You know, I'm not sure. Wasn't exactly focused on the details at the time."

"So... which one are you?" She had a decent idea, but there was no harm in small talk.

At this point, all Lilith is trying to do is find ways to push his buttons. Demons always fall back on this when they've lost any other ammunition, and Castiel has to remind himself that there's no point in getting riled up by it.

So the look on his face remains unimpressed as he considers how easiest to get rid of her. What he might say that could make her stalk off to pester someone else.

"It's their right to assert their own opinions. That's the whole point of free will," he points out. "Just as it's my choice to join them instead of my siblings."

He doesn't address what she says about whether Sam and Dean thank him for what he does. That's not her business, and Castiel's come to understand and accept their gratitude. Instead he pins her down with narrowed eyes. "Speaking of being a loyal grunt, you gave yourself up to Lucifer -- and where did that leave you?" Dead, is where.

"They might be doing well survival-wise, and hell, maybe they're happy, too, but looking at this? I can't speak for anyone else, but it seems to me like you're all doing the best you can in a situation that's beyond bad. Living instead of just surviving. I'm sure you're not the only ones, but-- it's good to see firsthand."

It helps her understand the way things are for them a little better, she thinks. Maybe not much, but enough that she feels like she can see a slightly bigger picture now. Her gaze moves to each of the people at the table in turn as he mentions them by name, lingering for a moment on where Simon and Janine are sitting together.

"I think Janine and I would have gotten along," she says after a moment, thoughtful. "Prickly but reliable-- you see a lot of that among hunters. She always sounds like she has a good head on her shoulders."

"Yeah I- I guess that's true. We try to keep people happy. You need that. There's not much point in living if you can't actually have a life." The first few months had been so hard, living in constant fear and never able to do anything.

They've built a community. That's something that's rare and valuable in their world these days.

"I think you would too. I mean, as much as she gets on with anyone." It was difficult to tell sometimes. "Every single person at Abel owes their life to her. Abel wouldn't exist if not for her."

"She sounds pretty admirable to me. They all do," Jo quickly tacks on, because it's true: the way everyone at Abel pulls their own weight and works together is pretty impressive, and more than she'd expect from most people after the world has gone to hell. There are always people who will look to help others-- but even more who are just out for themselves.

The moment she thinks it, she feels her heart sink into her stomach. She can't dwell on that right now, not while she's standing in this room with Sam, not when she knows exactly why the scene in front of her will never be replicated.

"Do you ever wish they'll join you here?"

"They're amazing. I wish-" He wishes his last direct words to Eight hadn't been angry and hateful, he wishes that Simon... that he just hadn't. He wishes Janine didn't have to have so much on her shoulders. "I wish I lot of things," he finishes instead.

He offers her a small smile. "Yeah. I wish that a lot. I mean, Janine would probably go and build her own place in the woods with a bunker but I think everyone would prefer it. It's just safer here."

"I think I know what that's like."

To wish a hundred things had gone differently, to wish for different fates for the people you cared about, different choices. She folds her arms and rests casually against the wall, letting her gaze come to rest on the scene again, watching just how happy they all seem despite their circumstances. It was so much like her own memory that it was hard to look away.

She smiles back, and it comes out tired, but genuine. "I wish it for my friends, too. My family. Some of them are here, and I know that makes me lucky-- I never thought I'd see them again." Or maybe it was more accurate to say they wouldn't have seen her. "But there are still people I miss. I want my mom to come back. I want Ash to come here, and Bobby. Their lives would be better. I never thought I'd feel that way, because meeting a sticky end is part of the job, but-- once I got a taste of what it was like to have a second chance, I wanted that for everyone."

"You're such a dork," Billy murmured against Teddy lips.

Sam crouches down, watching the scene for the hundredth time, like he might be able to remember every single detail if he just watched it enough. This will never happen again. He'll never see some of these people again, even if he goes home.

"You don't really realise what you have until it's gone, I guess. And the stupid thing is, if I have to go back, I'd still rather go back to Abel than to my life before the apocalypse. That's awful of me, but I would."

[ deflect and deflect again. it's the only way he knows how to roll, and if dean's honest, he never thought he'd have to share this moment with anyone again. it's caught him off guard, even though it's only jo in his room. so when she starts on her own memory without fuss, dean's somewhat glad. there's not much to say about his, not when it's looping around them.

it's not a memory dean expects her to mention. his words start off quiet, even as he nods. ]

That was a good night, despite everything. [ it would be a fond memory, something dean would look back on a lot more if it weren't for the day that follows. ]

...And a good family.

[ still is, even without ellen and bobby around. ]

[ once out of the room, out of mary's sight and mind, dean feels a little better. not that his mom can react to anything being said or done, but having this conversation with her presence in room hadn't felt entirely right. in the hallway, much like cas suspects, dean remains near the door, lingering by it much like he had when the angel first approached him.

he doesn't regret showing cas his room, the memory within, but that doesn't mean he plans on inviting anyone else inside.

either way, his assumption are out and cas only shrugs, which leaves dean exhaling a quiet, relieved breath. maybe it is jealousy, low and burning somewhere inside of him, or something else-- but he shouldn't have assumed. cas and meg might share something special, and it's none of his business. even if he'd literally walked in on it in the form of meg's memory. ]

Maybe, yeah. [ he has no idea why wonderland chose any of this, honestly, so who knows. ] Either way, hey, I'm glad. Just means you haven't run outta good times with us yet. [ because sometimes it feels like they either fight more often than not, or someone has a massive, destructive secret-lie waiting to explode. so for cas' room to include them-- feels good, man. ]

Let's try and keep it that way, too.

[ big goals. ]

Neal’s kind of learning he tends to fall just outside the loop when it comes to stuff that goes on back home. It’s no one’s fault, really. He knows they don’t mean it—it’s just crappy to be the dead guy when everyone else you know is still alive and kicking.

But yeah, he’s getting told now thanks to Wonderland’s latest event, plus a blatant disregard for Regina’s privacy. And she’s right to think that the first part, that Rumplestiltskin went after Zelena right away, is exactly what Neal expects to have happened. So someone else had to be pulling strings, and it’s not all that difficult to figure out just how Regina managed to do it.

“So you got the dagger first, and used it to stop him.” Regina’s not going to find what she’s looking for. The truth is, Neal mostly feels numb to all this. There’s just too much mess for him to process, too many pieces crashing down for him to even start deciding what he thinks. He watches again how Zelena suddenly gets blown back, the one moment that should give him some comfort because at least it means Henry’s safe.

But it’s too messed up. All of it.

“So why’d you save her?”

Honestly, at the time Cami had felt like Klaus only told her to claim a place on the moral high ground; he’d been so angry at her for sleeping with Marcel, a truth Cami had deliberately kept both to protect Marcel and because she had known Klaus would see it as a betrayal, regardless of a lack of foundation. She’s long believed that Klaus could keep secrets and hide truths if it suited his purposes—but for once, that purpose had been pure in intention, and wholly right.

So she isn’t mad, not in the slightest. Those months he’d spent in isolation had their foundation in grief, but Marcel had been right: there had been more to it than just mourning. The Mikaelsons all had been trying to protect this sweet, innocent girl—and likely none more ardently than Klaus himself.

“Because that was the one way you could make sure she was safe.” Cami now stands beside the child’s crib, looking down at the figment of a baby and smiling brightly. This little girl, so sweet and innocent, is alive back home. Hope lives, in both name and spirit.

“She’s beautiful, Klaus.” Cami reaches down, just to touch tiny fingers with her own. But for her this is an illusion in every sense, Hope nothing more than an image. Still, the truth is more than enough, and she turns back to face him. “I’m so glad you saved her.”

Didn't. [ He corrects in a low voice, twinged with guilt. It isn't their fault he'd died, of course, but he didn't deserve it. Not him or any of the others who'd fallen while the Winchester brothers kept standing. It was bullshit. ] ... But, yeah, you're right. Guess we shouldn't complain about what we've got here in Wonderland, right? With the time we have...

Good, then maybe he's not your type. [ The idea of him being buddy-buddy with Lilith is... disturbing, to say the least. He hates the idea of his and Jo's Mirrors being... involved, let alone Lilith. ]

I'm not talking about this any more, so if you want to keep it up, you can leave.

Don't even say it. [ He likes to think he's on top of the network, that he's got a decent amount of notes on the place, but... Dean's right. Things could disappear from the record, might not have been there all along... it's almost impossible to trust anything in the place.

Ugh. ]

The usual? I don't know. Some magic gone haywire, maybe. I don't know why they'd be showing us on purpose.

Well, that's a concerning question. Sam does a double-take at Cas, raising a brow in a sort of dubious, almost concerned expression.

"Uh-- No?" But as he answers... there's a weird twinge just beneath the surface, and, oddly, what the angel said makes sense with some of what he's been experiencing. Yes, he's enjoying being in this memory, has liked what he's seen in others', but... it's true, there've been a few moments when what he was seeing, talking about, or even thinking has not added up to what's bubbling beneath the surface.

It isn't worrying, exactly, but it's confusing.

"... Actually, yeah, maybe. A little. I thought it was just me."

As it usually is.

[Gently, in an almost exploratory fashion, Ned's worry is supplanted by genuine intrigue, sand brushed away from a great shell on the shore of a beach, revealing intricate spirals of interest. Curiously enough Zed's hands are stuffed into her own pockets - a mimicry of the Pie Maker's habit? No, she hasn't even seen it yet.

She isn't backing off, either, forcing Ned between his shut door and hard place.]

It has that tendency, [he half-smiles, half-grimaces.] This- um...this drawing...

[Is of a girl that no one in Wonderland has ever seen before.]

...it's nice. Good! Good, I mean...it's good.

Hey, distraction achieved. If only for a little bit.

"Yeah? Sounds like the traditional kind of guy. Kid, dog, next was the white picket fence, right?" Simple human pleasures - sometimes he envied them for things like that.

"More important things to pay attention to, right?" Gabriel leans against the wall with a crooked grin of his own. "Little brother did pick himself a pretty vessel."

"Since I'm not smiting or scowling you can't even guess? I'm wounded." No he isn't. Not even a little.

"Gabriel."

Peggy does her best to give Pepper a smile, the sort of smile she gave to Miriam Fry when she'd caught her trying to get Howard up to her room. It didn't sit any better on her lips this time than last time. "Pepper, then."

It isn't any less disturbing to hear that these room changes are happening elsewhere, although an earlier inspection of her journal had told her something to that effect. It is one thing to suspect and another to have it confirmed, after all. She wonders, idly, what Steve's room looks like, and then about Bucky - but thinking of Bucky gives her an odd sense of skittishness now. Whereas thinking of Steve just seems...urgent.

How odd.

The smile falters on Peggy's face and she tilts her head, a little confused. "Check in on me? Ah-" She gestures to the room around her. "I suppose it has, yes. But...how did you know?"

It's not as if Castiel can ask Dean much of anything, given that he's from even further back in time. They both only know the details that Sam and Crowley have given them, which means that Castiel's always in a state of feeling that he doesn't know enough.

Frustration remains the reigning emotion as he watches Crowley stalk off. Ask nicely, he says, as if manners will change anything. Castiel's never seen much need for them.

It would be easier to discuss this with Sam than Crowley, that much is obvious, but Castiel takes a moment to draw closer to the Dean from Crowley's memory, as if studying him closely enough will help this all make some more sense.

"Something to do with the Mark," he murmurs, mainly to himself.

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+ Wanted to get it real home-like... +

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it's just such a crazy (late) happenstance

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