The Courier (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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entrancelogs2016-10-16 07:59 pm
thecourier) wrote in entrancelogs2016-10-16 07:59 pm
Entry tags:
[CLOSED]
Who: Dan Palmer & John Winchester
Where: The bar
When: 16/10
Rating: PG13
Summary: After spending a week as best buds, even faint memories might be enough to kindle a friendship
The Story: His gaze falls on the back of John's seated figure with the kind of warmth that comes with the recognising of an old but long-distant friend. It hadn't happened before, in all the times he had seen this same man sitting in the bar, but recent events had.. changed things.
Dan had spent a week with magic at his fingertips, living the kind of childhood he could have never imagined having. The memories were faint now, with most of them fading, but of those that stuck out more than others the hours spent with his arm slung around the shoulders of a certain young man came to the fore most often... the adult and non-magical form of which now sat a short distance away.
He pulls a face at his own musings, and with a mental shake of his nerves steps forwards to take a seat beside John. A whiskey is called for, and he shoots a quick smile over to the other man, searching for some kind of recognition.
Where: The bar
When: 16/10
Rating: PG13
Summary: After spending a week as best buds, even faint memories might be enough to kindle a friendship
The Story: His gaze falls on the back of John's seated figure with the kind of warmth that comes with the recognising of an old but long-distant friend. It hadn't happened before, in all the times he had seen this same man sitting in the bar, but recent events had.. changed things.
Dan had spent a week with magic at his fingertips, living the kind of childhood he could have never imagined having. The memories were faint now, with most of them fading, but of those that stuck out more than others the hours spent with his arm slung around the shoulders of a certain young man came to the fore most often... the adult and non-magical form of which now sat a short distance away.
He pulls a face at his own musings, and with a mental shake of his nerves steps forwards to take a seat beside John. A whiskey is called for, and he shoots a quick smile over to the other man, searching for some kind of recognition.
no subject
And besides, a cat as a pet? He hates cats.
John's in the bar tonight, as per usual, reading his notes and sipping bar. He's a little shocked when some asshole decides to invade his privacy and peace, but he only gets out a
litte "Hey bud-" before the man's face tickles a memory. He's seen the guy around, but he knows the guy.]
Holy shit. You're...
[You were his fake dream best friend.]
Oh...
no subject
The glass is set down with a soft 'clink', and he clears his throat.]
Hey, loser.
[The words slip out unhindered, a faint smirk ticking one corner of his mouth upwards before he decides to follow up with a slightly more... traditional greeting.]
How you doin', John?
no subject
Y'know, I've been through some weird crap in my life, but this pretty far up there.
[John drains the rest of his beer in one go, and waves for another one. Not that he's insistent about it, but you know. He'd really like one very fast please.]
Don't even like cats.
no subject
He smiles faintly in return, knocking back his whiskey. For the moment, he holds off on calling for a replacement.]
Me neither. More 'v a dog person.
[Dan pauses.]
So how y' wanna do this. I mean, I can fuck right off t' where I came from, but t' be honest, I kinda wanna see what the real John is like.
no subject
[His beer comes then, courtesy of one of the asskicking blondes that tend the bar day in and day out. John gives a little nod of thanks, then takes a long drink.
Fuck. He needs it.]
So tell me, are you actually a wizard? [He vaguely remembers him having some weird ass, half dead dog thing. Maybe it was magic?] Because if you are, I've got like, a book full of questions I need answered.
no subject
Nah, not a wizard. Might make some things a helluvalot easier if I was.
[Though the memories are vague he hasn't forgotten just how useful magic proved itself to be.]
Just a mercenary with a whole lot of messed up stories.
no subject
Mercenary? [Well, hell.] I might like to hear some of those stories. Wanna see if I can top you.
no subject
A'right... I got a few. Not sure 'f I could pick the best... 'f there really is a 'best'. Eh... most of 'em end up with me nearly gettin' myself killed.
no subject
[Though, his best one isn't so much almost getting killed as it is so weird that even hunters barely belive him. But still.]
What kind of assholes were you hunting down? Just the regular, dipping out on bail kind, or....
[Something weirder, he wants to say. His instinct says it's probably the latter, but its still weird to say out loud.]
no subject
[Something weirder. Dan isn't ignorant of the concept of 'bail', though it isn't something he hears about often.] 'Sides. Someone does somethin' wrong in the wastes an' they're more likely t' be shot than arrested.
[He rubs the bridge of his nose and examines his whiskey.]
Things I got hired for as a merc were things that yer common citizen with a gun jus' couldn't manage. Takin' out entire raider gangs, rescuin' people taken by super mutants... One time a scientist asked me t' go into one of the old vaults t' look fer someone. Ugh. Place was swarmin' with spore carriers. I fuckin' hate those things.
no subject
[ yeah that sounds like some apocalyptic type bullshit. What's with everyone around here being from the end of the world? Jesus, you'd thing every other universe was a hell hole compared to back home.
Look, Dan, all that sounds pretty cool, but it doesn't make and kind of sense. John holds a hand up, a plea for Dan to stop talking, and he raises an eyebrow.]
I'm gonna be honest, I understood about half that.
no subject
[But you know what's really great? He can explain everything. He really can. At least, he can explain after he's had another shot of whiskey.]
Raiders - simple enough. People gone wrong. Fuckin' scavengers livin' off what they can steal. Ain't no one who likes raiders. Raiders don't like other raiders. [The name gives it away.]
Super mutants used t' be people, I think. But now they're.. somethin' else. Somethin' big an' really pissed off.
no subject
And what made 'em mutants?
[He can maybe guess- he lived through the Cold War, after all. But you never know with the whole "other universes" thing, it could always be something weird like a virus or, hell, flouride in the water.]
Is that what was up with that half-dead dog thing?
no subject
[It works too well, as far as Dan is concerned. Nothing should be able to create things like that. But then.. he thinks that about a lot of things in the Wasteland, and there they are, walking around like it's normal to be a car-sized scorpion or a literally fire-breathing ant the size of a large dog.]
Oscar ain't half-dead. 'E's half-robot. A cyberdog.
no subject
Okay, one: it's got its brain showing, that's not right. And two, I think you should started with this whole "great war" thing. I need some context.
no subject
[Seriously.]
The Great War was.. 2077. October 23rd. So that's... [He pauses, counting on his fingers.] Hundred, two... Two hundred an' five years ago, by my year. Lotta things lead up to it. Resource Wars, collapsin' major global powers... Then someone pressed the big red button.