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
Maybe he wishes he could have said something better, but for her it's good enough. It's good to hear him say anything, and to see a version of Dean who seems to come a little bit closer to being able to look her in the eye than the last one. Truth be told, he looks like he's been through the ringer, gone to hell and back, and maybe that's more accurate than she knows-- but the fact that he's here and in one piece is good enough for her. He passes.
She grabs a bottle of whiskey from the top shelf, offering a tight-lipped smile as she opens it and fills the shot glass she'd set down a moment earlier, nudging it towards him. "You also look like you're gonna need a few of these."
'A few' was probably being generous. It wasn't every day you were reunited with dead friends. Dealing with Wonderland on top of that meant he was probably on the fast track to a nasty hangover if he wasn't careful.
no subject
Dean looks at her because it's all he can do. Words are lost to him, and they're usually his best line of both defence and offence. As far as action goes... what can he do but throw back that shot and motion for a top up?
He could leave, obviously. Get up and make some excuse about having to go somewhere and do... something, but he's glued to that damned bar stool, and all he can do is stare at her. Tell himself that she's just a nightmare after all. He'll wake up with a shout and this hell will be over.
Any second now.
no subject
Her smile fades a little, dialing down to something more serious as she props a hand against the bar, letting the other come to rest against her hip as she stands opposite him.
"I know," she says evenly, "It's weird. And it's a lot to take in. You just-- you take whatever time you need, okay? But I can fill in any blanks. Been here a long time now. Kind of a veteran."
I was SURE I replied to this!
"Yeah, I'd like that. Fill me in. How long have you been here- What do you get up to- You know, other than rocking the bar?"
<3! It happens!
"Three years, in April," she tells him, and even as she says it, in some ways it doesn't feel real. It's a long time, in the greater scheme of things-- and three more years than she would have had back home, after her run-in with those hellhounds. "Guess you could say I'm a Wonderland veteran by now. I keep busy-- I inherited the bar from a friend, actually." Another version of him, though she doesn't say so. "Also help out with the gym down on the first floor some, give self-defense and hunting lessons now and then, when people are interested. We get monsters here sometimes-- good for people to know how to take care of themselves."
no subject
Why does it feel like everyone he runs into from back home has made a home for themselves here??
"So, the whole gang's here. Have been here for years. Except me. Thanks for the invite." That starts as a joke, but then he remembers that people seem to already know him. Story is apparently that he's been here before but he can't remember it. And who knows what kind of dipshittery he's gotten up to on his last trips. Everyone he has run into knows about the Mark, and is Jo's been here for that...
Dammit.
He doesn't need to ask to know he's been a dick to her. Even know, as he sits here and hates himself, the urge to break her vibrates deep in his core. Because it's Jo, and that that Mark keeps wanting him to hurt the ones he cares about.
"Sounds like you've scored a pretty good deal. Better than out there, am I right?"
He tries so hard to make that soun easy, and casual. Instead he sounds like he's itching to run away.
no subject
"I'm doing pretty well here," she concedes with a nod, and she knows he's trying to play things cool, but she can see that jumpiness lurking beneath it all, the part of him that wants to bolt the way he's always bolted when things got a little too real. That's the Dean Winchester she remembers from back home. The one she'd carried a torch for for years but who would always rather run away than give her a call. Maybe he'd been doing them both a favor, but distance never mattered much to her when it came to friends or family.
"Got more time here than I would have back home. There's something to be said for second chances. It was hard at first, I've done what I can to put a good spin on all this. I know this isn't exactly a five-star resort, but it's not terrible." She pauses, just for a beat. "Dean, a lot's changed."