Kurt Weller (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
startingpoint) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
entrancelogs2016-06-17 09:21 pm
startingpoint) wrote in entrancelogs2016-06-17 09:21 pm
[ OPEN ]
Who: Kurt Weller + YOU
Where: Around the mansion
When: June 17 and beyond
Rating: PG (I think)
Summary: Broken, hauntedemo FBI agent dealing with his emotional baggage. Come say hi! Get drunk or train at the gym with him. Or insist he just relax a little and have some pie. XD
The Story:
He's been in Wonderland for a few weeks now, but sleep still eludes him. So many people think of dreams as a chance to escape the realities of life, to be free. But his dreams are tainted with darkness, entrapping him in memories he's sure he'll spend the rest of his life reliving, over and over again. The ghosts come when he closes his eyes; all the people he couldn't save, all the families destroyed with two single words: I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't save them. He's used the words so many times, he wonders if they hold any meaning for the people left behind to pick up the pieces from a lost life. He used to wonder, if he apologized enough times, would she come back - in that quiet place between dreams where Taylor's still alive? Would she know he meant it, that he would never let her go again?
He's discovered quickly enough that in Wonderland, there is all manner of magic. It's nothing that makes sense to him, it's nothing he can even believe most of the time, but it has its uses. He could ask for a pill to help him sleep, maybe. See if there's a doctor around here to help. Anything. But he won't. He'll live with the ghosts because in his dreams, he gets to see her again. Taylor.
Frustrated, he gives up trying to sleep and leaves the mansion around midnight, making his way outside. Kurt casts his eyes up to the sky, thinking how different and similar it looks at the same time. They made s'mores together under skies like this. They sang songs, they took shelter together in his tent when the sky unleashed a torrent of rain, muting the stars and the light from the moon until all that remained were shadows. She was scared of those moments, that absolute darkness, and the earth trembling with thunder. There was never anything to fear then, Kurt thought. The monsters that existed in this world were easily vanquished, or so his youthful mind thought. All he had to do was hold her and promise to protect her, and the monsters wouldn't dare come near them. He had no idea, of course, that the biggest monster to fear was his own father, that the best friend he cradled in his arms and swore to protect would one day be nothing more than a pile of bones buried beneath the earth by his own father.
He rubs a hand over his face, looking back down at his hands, clenching them together to stop them from shaking. There's no point in trying to sleep now, so he goes back inside, makes his way to the bar, and decides he'll spend the rest of the night tucked into a glass of liquor.
The absence of a daily routine is unnerving to Kurt. It makes him restless and uneasy; not that he'll ever be comfortable in a place like this, but he's desperate for at least something that feels more normal, grounding like if he were at home. He's been told about the training gym, so he tries to get there often, finding comfort in the familiarity of it. He finds himself often at the punching bag, landing strike after strike, finding it almost meditative as he tries to unravel all the chaos in his mind.
Kurt's not the type to openly socialize with anyone, though he tries to be friendly when approached. He's communicated with people through his phone-like device, and that's easier somehow than getting to know people in person. There's a barrier, it keeps him safe from getting close to people he's not fully sure he can trust. But he's met some people here who seem...decent, and with everything he's heard, the more allies he can find, the better. So he tries to get out of his room fairly often, and when he's not at the bar or the gym, he walks around, just getting a feel for the place and the people here. Nothing much seems to happen here between events, but he wants to keep an eye on things regardless.
Where: Around the mansion
When: June 17 and beyond
Rating: PG (I think)
Summary: Broken, haunted
The Story:
b a r;
He's been in Wonderland for a few weeks now, but sleep still eludes him. So many people think of dreams as a chance to escape the realities of life, to be free. But his dreams are tainted with darkness, entrapping him in memories he's sure he'll spend the rest of his life reliving, over and over again. The ghosts come when he closes his eyes; all the people he couldn't save, all the families destroyed with two single words: I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't save them. He's used the words so many times, he wonders if they hold any meaning for the people left behind to pick up the pieces from a lost life. He used to wonder, if he apologized enough times, would she come back - in that quiet place between dreams where Taylor's still alive? Would she know he meant it, that he would never let her go again?
He's discovered quickly enough that in Wonderland, there is all manner of magic. It's nothing that makes sense to him, it's nothing he can even believe most of the time, but it has its uses. He could ask for a pill to help him sleep, maybe. See if there's a doctor around here to help. Anything. But he won't. He'll live with the ghosts because in his dreams, he gets to see her again. Taylor.
Frustrated, he gives up trying to sleep and leaves the mansion around midnight, making his way outside. Kurt casts his eyes up to the sky, thinking how different and similar it looks at the same time. They made s'mores together under skies like this. They sang songs, they took shelter together in his tent when the sky unleashed a torrent of rain, muting the stars and the light from the moon until all that remained were shadows. She was scared of those moments, that absolute darkness, and the earth trembling with thunder. There was never anything to fear then, Kurt thought. The monsters that existed in this world were easily vanquished, or so his youthful mind thought. All he had to do was hold her and promise to protect her, and the monsters wouldn't dare come near them. He had no idea, of course, that the biggest monster to fear was his own father, that the best friend he cradled in his arms and swore to protect would one day be nothing more than a pile of bones buried beneath the earth by his own father.
He rubs a hand over his face, looking back down at his hands, clenching them together to stop them from shaking. There's no point in trying to sleep now, so he goes back inside, makes his way to the bar, and decides he'll spend the rest of the night tucked into a glass of liquor.
training gym;
The absence of a daily routine is unnerving to Kurt. It makes him restless and uneasy; not that he'll ever be comfortable in a place like this, but he's desperate for at least something that feels more normal, grounding like if he were at home. He's been told about the training gym, so he tries to get there often, finding comfort in the familiarity of it. He finds himself often at the punching bag, landing strike after strike, finding it almost meditative as he tries to unravel all the chaos in his mind.
around the mansion;
Kurt's not the type to openly socialize with anyone, though he tries to be friendly when approached. He's communicated with people through his phone-like device, and that's easier somehow than getting to know people in person. There's a barrier, it keeps him safe from getting close to people he's not fully sure he can trust. But he's met some people here who seem...decent, and with everything he's heard, the more allies he can find, the better. So he tries to get out of his room fairly often, and when he's not at the bar or the gym, he walks around, just getting a feel for the place and the people here. Nothing much seems to happen here between events, but he wants to keep an eye on things regardless.
no subject
"Met a few decent people here," Kurt nods. "Your parents are here, you said? You have people?"
no subject
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"Your family's got you, but if anything happens, you can come to me, okay?" He's a cop, that's in his blood.
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"Okay. Thanks. It's always good to know there are more people here that just wanna help. I mean, mostly everyone does, but there are couple who really wouldn't care."
no subject
And then he tilts his head a little. "So what was that - what you did, keeping that cup from hitting the floor?"
no subject
Henry shifts a little, then disappears in a cloud of purple and white smoke - a combination of both his mother's magic. When he reappears, he's directly behind Kurt.
"Hey. Over here, now."
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"Magic like that - where'd it come from?"
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Although, when there were zombies, he hadn't done such a great job, and Regina sort of had to set the 8th floor on fire, but Henry's not going to mention that at all. "Not everyone can just do magic though, you usually have to study hard and practice a lot."
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"So a guy like me could learn?" He looks skeptical, because...doesn't it have to run in your blood or something for you to even be capable of it?
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There's a lot in there that Kurt can assume about Henry's life and background. "I think in Wonderland, anything is possible. And if you wanted to learn, it'd never hurt to try. Especially since sometimes during events, the closets won't give out weapons."
no subject
"It's probably safer for everyone if I just stick with what I know."
Henry's world sounds...interesting, to say the least. "What kind of world do you come from, exactly?"
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"I'm from a place called Storybrooke. It's in Maine, but it was created by magic. My family's from a place called Mist Haven."
With adults, he usually calls it by its formal name, because it sounds less hokey than the Enchanted Forest. "My mom's the queen there. Or she was. She hasn't been there in a long time, so I don't know if she still technically would be if we went back."
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And as dumb as it all sounds, he also knows...it must be real. It's actually not the craziest thing he's heard here.
"So you're a prince."
That is, apparently, the first thing he chooses to respond to.
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"I'm lucky though, both my moms and my dad are here. One mom gave me up for adoption," he explains, just to stop the 'how does that work' confusion. "But I found her when I was ten, and my dad when I was eleven."
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He's still trying to take 'Mist Haven't seriously.
"Mist Haven's the best name they could come up with?"
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He gives a little shrug. "You seem like the kind of person who wouldn't believe me when I tell you who my family is, anyway. No offense or anything. It's hard to believe."
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"You lead an interesting life, kid."
no subject
"That has to at least change things up a little for you."