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
"Your peoples' gadgets are interesting, but they involve too many cords," he says, watching from over Kurt's shoulder. The power cable looks like every other cable to him, quite honestly, but that would explain why it'd seemed like he was missing a step in making sure the device was tethered to the wall. "Ahh, so that's the problem. I thought about powering it myself, but it'd be a shame to shock it and accidentally melt it."
Once the box is attached to the wall and the television like a little metal dog with two separate leashes, the screen lights up with color and sound. Seeing televisions come to life never gets old.
"It worked! You did it. See, you were the right guy for the job, after all."
no subject
Crossing his arms loosely over his chest, he smirks just a little. "Missed my calling, I guess."
He does enjoy seeing this man experiencing technology like it's something new and wonderful. It's rare to see that. "So you have magic or something?" He'd mentioned powering it himself, so he's curious.
no subject
Anders goes to collect the pile of DVD cases he'd left on a side table. Some of Alphys' favorite anime titles, as he understands it. There may even be a Sailor Moon or two in there.
"Or something, yes." His smile says Kurt is correct. "I'm a mage. Magic is our trade. I understand not every world has mages in it, though." Which is still extremely bizarre to him, but hey, so are most things about Wonderland. All things considered, it's probably the same level of bizarre as someone who hasn't grown up with electricity or a television set.
no subject
He actually recognizes Sailor Moon because of his nephew. The kid's into it for some reason, but as long as he enjoys it, he doesn't really care what he watches. It's better than something violent, anyway.
"Right. There's no magic in New York City," Kurt confirms. Or the rest of his world, for that matter. But, "Though there's a pizza place on Bleecker Street that makes me believe in magic every time I get a slice."
no subject
He fans the DVD cases out in his hands, glancing at the covers with more interest now that he actually has the means to use the little silver discs.
"Pizza! I've tried that. It's pretty tasty." He looks up. Odd as it is to contemplate a place without a single drop of magic in it, he chuckles at Kurt. "Maybe your mages are just good at hiding in place sight. And dedicated to food service."
no subject
"Maybe," he finally cracks just a little smirk. "My nephew watches some of this stuff," he gives a little nod to the DVDs.
no subject
"Your sister mentioned she had a son. He'd make one talking lizard I know very happy. Not the one named Bill who goes around breaking everything in Wonderland, mind you, but one of us in the mansion--Alphys is her name. She can't stop talking about anime."
no subject
no subject
The incredulous explanation is coupled with Anders raising his eyebrows, mostly in jest. He would hope a play for children wouldn't actually employ bloody body parts; he'd have to rethink Sarah's single mother parenting if that was the case.
Kurt's right, the idea of a boy method acting a gallbladder is still on the strange side, but when he's holding a handful of Alphys' anime DVDs Anders can't judge too harshly on strange.
"It must be difficult being separated while you're here, but hopefully he won't be dragged here and made to jump through the same hoops as the rest of us. As thanks for your impeccable and timely service, you're more than welcome to stay and watch with me," Anders adds with a laugh, sensing Kurt might rather do anything but that.
no subject
Waving a hand politely, Kurt shakes his head. "No. You have fun. It's been...interesting. I'm sure I'll see you around again soon." Especially if the man gets to know his sister a little more.