lovestheimpala (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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entrancelogs2016-02-20 08:18 pm
lovestheimpala) wrote in entrancelogs2016-02-20 08:18 pm
come on, baby
Who: Dean Winchester ( & whoever wants a slice of this pie)
Where: Outside. Hallways. Bar.
When: Feb. 20th
Rating: PG13 at least.
Summary: Dean discovers a different dimension.
The Story:
i. outside
It’s less than a blink of an eye. A split second where he’s not fully paying attention to life around him. That’s all it takes for it to vanish and leave him standing alone. He blinks. Once. Twice. Just to make sure that his brain isn’t flipping out on him.Again.
He’s pretty sure he’s not hallucinating, though. The handle of the Scythe still in his hands feels too solid. His grip tightens around it until splinters dig into his palms. No, this is definitely real.
For a second, he wonders if this is Death’s deal- But no. No, that doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t add up. He wasn’t gonna kill Sam. He wouldn’t have been strong enough to do that and even if he had… why would Death send him packing with his Scythe? If this was his doing, Dean was pretty freaking sure he’d want his toy back first. So this had to be something different. Something that derailed them and snagged either just him, or all three of them, and dumped them somewhere else.
Where though? Only one way to find out.
With the Scythe lifted high, Dean sets out to figure out where he is, and if he was the only one that Stargated out of that restaurant.
ii. hallways
“What the hell….?”
It’s not so much the actual grandeur of the place that has him just barely gaping when he first walks into the mansion, but rather that he can’t wrap his brain around why he would end up here. It can’t be a good thing. Last time he got zapped into a place that was all gold and art, and fancy like this… it was the angelic dicks wanting him to sit pretty until Michael wanted him to bend over. This place doesn’t quite reek of their arrogance, but the unsettling feeling that something pulled him out of his life to screw him over can’t be shaken.
So he walks around as quietly as he can, hoping that he can get a better feel of the place before he runs into anyone. He’s damn good at stealth when he needs to be, but it’s not always easy to sneak in shadows and stay hidden when you’re carrying around a weapon the size of a small human.
iii. bar
He’s tired. That’s an understatement.
It had been a shitty-as-all-hell week even before he got beamed up. So much crap dumped on him all in such a few days (some of it even by his own hands) and Dean hadn’t had a moment to stop and let it sink in. And this BS happened. Desperate to get a moment to let all of this… Dean needs a drink. Simple as that, and he dumps the scythe into one of the empty rooms so he isn’t walking around looking like he’s here to freaking reap people. From that it’s a bee line to the bar. Thank God this place has a bar.
He walks in with his head down, not stopping until he can park his ass on one of the stools. He needs there to be no more than just the bottom of his glass tonight. “Gimme a shot. And a beer.”
Where: Outside. Hallways. Bar.
When: Feb. 20th
Rating: PG13 at least.
Summary: Dean discovers a different dimension.
The Story:
i. outside
It’s less than a blink of an eye. A split second where he’s not fully paying attention to life around him. That’s all it takes for it to vanish and leave him standing alone. He blinks. Once. Twice. Just to make sure that his brain isn’t flipping out on him.
He’s pretty sure he’s not hallucinating, though. The handle of the Scythe still in his hands feels too solid. His grip tightens around it until splinters dig into his palms. No, this is definitely real.
For a second, he wonders if this is Death’s deal- But no. No, that doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t add up. He wasn’t gonna kill Sam. He wouldn’t have been strong enough to do that and even if he had… why would Death send him packing with his Scythe? If this was his doing, Dean was pretty freaking sure he’d want his toy back first. So this had to be something different. Something that derailed them and snagged either just him, or all three of them, and dumped them somewhere else.
Where though? Only one way to find out.
With the Scythe lifted high, Dean sets out to figure out where he is, and if he was the only one that Stargated out of that restaurant.
ii. hallways
“What the hell….?”
It’s not so much the actual grandeur of the place that has him just barely gaping when he first walks into the mansion, but rather that he can’t wrap his brain around why he would end up here. It can’t be a good thing. Last time he got zapped into a place that was all gold and art, and fancy like this… it was the angelic dicks wanting him to sit pretty until Michael wanted him to bend over. This place doesn’t quite reek of their arrogance, but the unsettling feeling that something pulled him out of his life to screw him over can’t be shaken.
So he walks around as quietly as he can, hoping that he can get a better feel of the place before he runs into anyone. He’s damn good at stealth when he needs to be, but it’s not always easy to sneak in shadows and stay hidden when you’re carrying around a weapon the size of a small human.
iii. bar
He’s tired. That’s an understatement.
It had been a shitty-as-all-hell week even before he got beamed up. So much crap dumped on him all in such a few days (some of it even by his own hands) and Dean hadn’t had a moment to stop and let it sink in. And this BS happened. Desperate to get a moment to let all of this… Dean needs a drink. Simple as that, and he dumps the scythe into one of the empty rooms so he isn’t walking around looking like he’s here to freaking reap people. From that it’s a bee line to the bar. Thank God this place has a bar.
He walks in with his head down, not stopping until he can park his ass on one of the stools. He needs there to be no more than just the bottom of his glass tonight. “Gimme a shot. And a beer.”
no subject
"Sweetheart, you have no idea." He glances over at her, eyeing her up and down to try and get a read on what she is. "Been here long?"
no subject
"It'll be two years in April. In Wonderland... Not the bar, although I guess it all kinda blends together after awhile. I'd like to say it gets easier with time, but I suck at lying." And oh yeah, that's right - the whole knowing each other thing is really one-sided right now. She should probably fix that, because manners. And give him something else to call her by. "I'm Darcy, by the way."
This part sucked, honestly. The whole starting over thing. It was getting real old real quick.
no subject
"Damn, you don't sugar coat a damn thing, do you?" He likes that. No one needs the bullshit anyway.
"I'm Dean," he says, and even plays nice by offering her a hand to shake. That's how drunk he's getting. And since this place seems like the sort of cramped everyone's-up-each-others-asses kinda place, he adds: "I'm Sam's brother. If you know him."
no subject
"Yeah, I know - we go way back from the last time you were here. But, it's nice to meet you again." She'll even shake his hand. "Tend to meet a lot of people when shit randomly hits the fan." She's just gonna leave the Demon Dean part out for now. "We were even neighbors for awhile."
no subject
... and dammit, of course she knows him. This craptastic place won't even let him have some privacy.
"Right. Of course. Well... at least thanks for not bashing me over the head with it straight away." Unlike some. "And.. uh... if I ever barged into your room by accident, I'm sorry. Totally drunk, probably. Definitely wasn't trying to catch a glimpse of anything," he teases. "Definitely won't happen again."
no subject
And then he apologizes and she can't help but give a little shake of her head as she takes a drink. "Well, I mean you only barged into my room uninvited once and you weren't exactly you, so... Yeah." He can take that as he will because she should've thought about phrasing before the words came out of her mouth. It's something she's been working on for awhile, clearly without much improvement.
"We actually used to be friends, once upon a time."
no subject
Simple words. Any other life aand the natural assumption would be that he had been drunk, or just in a shitty mood. With Dean't life being what it is, his first thought is does that mean I was a demon?
After that there's a string of worries aabout what else could have put him in a state of "not being him". Hell, it's a lot it could be. The Mark, possession, deaging, growing old. Dammit, he's even been a vampire.
Those words could be hinting at literally anything.
"So we were friends. Was that... before or after I showed up all "not me"?"
no subject
"Before and after." Darcy holds very few grudges, honestly. The biggest one isn't even serious, she just likes giving crap to SHIELD people about her stupid iPod. She shifts a little, leveling him with a serious look. A weird sense of deja vu washing over her. "Look, what happened happened. It's in the past. If you want the details, I'll share... But, this can also be a fresh start. As long as you don't turn into a goat again and try to eat my pants, we'll be good." The last bit is something of a joke, a corner of her lip turning up as she takes another sip of her drink. It's an opening for him to choose a direction for the conversation. Ball's in his court.