eachdraidh

[Kieren hasn't slept in two days. There are already dark circles under his eyes, the skin blue and purple. He's looked tired since he arrived, but this time it's apparent. His hair has gone wild, as though he's gripped it with both hands at various spots. His eyes are blood shot - he's been too preoccupied with what's happened to really notice.

His throat is scratchy when he speaks. It's a desperate sort of noise, one layered in denial. ]

I can't find Jem. She didn't come round to give me my shot yesterday or today, I thought maybe she'd gone off with one of you lot. But I can't find her anywhere.

[He doesn't want to accept that's here alone. It's too daunting. He lifts his hands to run them over his face, but when he looks at them, one is shaking. Frustrated, he viciously shakes the tremors out. His attention soon snaps back to his locket. ]

I've seen that people go home. How do you know if they have?

sundroplet

[ the feed opens to, well, rapunzel. remember? the girl with the braid? and while she had a braid going for her, now she can be seen doing cartwheels in the gardens of Caer Glaem and the braid is sort of coming apart.

she'll flop in front of the camera, all laughter and freckles ]

This is the best belated birthday gift ever! I don't get it, how come everyone don't spend all their days on the grass it's, it's - amazing!

[ moist and super fun to roll on but moving on ]

does anybody want to go tree climbing? running? jumping into a river or a waterfall - are there rivers and waterfalls here? and - mushroom picking? dancing? picking flowers? there's just - so much to do and I finally get to do all of that for the first time ever and I sort of wanted to know if maybe, sorta, you would like to join!

Oh and thank you to everyone who helped with the braiding thing.

[ even though her hair is loose and is everywhere now. ]

mulletrock

[If you've met Dean in person you know he's not the type to do networking. He'll comment around every once and a while but since his initial arrival he hasn't made any updates on his own. He prefers audio and text, and doesn't screw around or waste time being social. He's not that guy.

When the camera opens focus he's not in clear view. Instead a 1967 impala in metallic black trimmed in chrome is in focus. There's no hum, no clear sign she's occupied or on, Dean doesn't even give a clear view of the license plate. Why would he? That's like asking to be caught.]

Ain't she a beaut?

[In case people were wondering who was on the other end of the recording Dean whirls his lock around toward his face at an angle where only his face can be seen. He doesn't have too much experience with camera work. Or at least the kind of camera that is attached to a necklace.]

I mean- goes without saying, too bad she's benched.

[There's no shot of the car instead it's just Dean, looking pretty bored with everything. He wants to get his hands dirty, but not with some stupid fantasy feud. There's more important things. He's been separated from Sam for too long and he's starting to wonder what the kid was up to or if he was even okay. Every angle he'd tried to get back to real time fell flat, and he wasn't sure what it would take short of cozying up to the seelie fairies and he wasn't ready to get in bed with those assholes yet.]

In case we haven't met.

[Dean indicates to himself in front of the camera and then back at whoever might be watching.]

Which is probably most of you. I'm Dave. Class-C citizen and mechanic outta Louisville. War? So not my thing.

But I couldn't help but notice a lot of you are juiced up on magic steroids, and since I'm outta my element I thought I'd ask a favor. These mooks were nice enough to bring me with my girl. [Read: The car. He's not shy about the fact that he puts this car above mostly everyone unless they're family or close to kin.] She gets around but she doesn't run on fumes. If someone can figure out a way for me to find a replenishing fuel source or I dunno, do some hoodoo so she doesn't need regular refills I'll make it worth your while. You scratch my back and I'll scratch yours. Trust me, I've got my own skills to offer.

[The camera pans up to the sky and then back down, there's a distinct pause. Like something distracted him but there's no evidence on what that is yet.]

And since after two months the clowns in the penthouse suite decided to be generous, I thought I'd put this message out there. The station's getting packed, and I don't do communal living.

Thanks.

serving

( Through the locket Merlin looks a little ... well, weary, if we're honest. It's not necessarily the same weariness of a young man who's been put through his paces physically (even though the recent rescue mission took it out of him), rather the slightly greying skin tone that indicates late nights, hard floors, and an over-active imagination. The only problem is that this time it's not his imagination that's to blame: it's everything else - it's this reality - that has him unable to stay still. Call it an over-abundance of nervous energy ...

That's actually only got worse since finding Arthur and Lancelot. Merlin's not exactly unused to having strangeness heaped on him but he's still uncertain about the whole thing: Lancelot died the last time he saw him, for starters, and yet here he is with no memory of it. It doesn't add up, and a simple "well, it's magic" isn't good enough for him. Merlin needs answers. He also needs to find out if only the three of them crossed over to the new realm, but asking the network seems too dangerous. Drawing attention to Guinevere, for example, if Morgana is lurking in a new and improved forest hovel, is exactly the opposite of what he wishes to do. Better handle this one with a bit more subtlety.

Still. His niggling doubts haven't kept him indoors on such a pleasant day - not least because outside he feels a little less like he's under scrutiny from every angle. It was the same in Camelot, he realises, if not for slightly different reasons, although he supposes the punishment for discovery may very well end up the same. He hopes not to find out. From his surroundings it should be clear that Merlin's ventured into a patch of thin woodland, and right now he's knelt over a frothy-flowered cluster that looks a lot like a yarrow plant.

He peers into the locket for a moment (as though uncertain it's actually working). )

... Hello?

( He frowns, then taps it a couple of times, before deciding that he may as well continue. He angles it so that the "yarrow" is in view. )

Does anyone know what this is? I'm looking for yarrow, but I'm - um. Not really familiar with what's poisonous and what's not, here.

( The physician's bag he's wearing over his shoulder slips forwards into view - Gaius' bag, for the Camelot bunch, who should be able to recognise it immediately. He'd been out collecting dock leaves when he'd been whisked away to the Drabwurld, and as Arthur had put it, he may as well go on and make himself useful. The locket moves over it slowly, getting a few different angles, before turning back to Merlin's face, where a self-deprecating smile has replaced the sceptical expression of moments ago. )

It doesn't look poisonous, but ...

( Hey, he doesn't look like an immortal warlock. )

Always better to be safe than sorry? And I don't want to end up giving someone a rash.

( But his smile grows broad at the thought of Arthur rubbing an itchy rash into God knows where. Come on, that's funny! )

... Accidentally. Anyway, let me know if you have any ideas; I'm all ears.

( He really does set himself up for the teasing, doesn't he. Merlin offers a little nod before the locket cuts off - and if he didn't give his name? Well. He's beginning to think that, at least with this crowd, a little namelessness might save him a lot of trouble. )

friendofspirits

[The image in the locket shows a disheveled and disturbed looking Deedlit. There is a quiet murmur of people in the background and the surroundings seem to be that of the infirmary.]

I feel as though I've been trampled by horses...How long as I asleep?

[Deedlit looks away from the locket for a moment as one of the fairies buzz by her ear, whispering something as they pass by. The look of shock that follows on her face is unmistakable and she jolts up to her feet only to feel her legs giving out, forcing her back to a sit.]

A month?! I've been asleep for an entire month?!

[She glances back to the locket then, a frown taking hold of her lips.]

...What in the world did I miss?

pillager

[ The face that appears in the locket doesn't look distressed at all. Unlike most of the new arrivals, he's actually quite accustomed to being whisked away to strange new realms. So rather than looking upset, Hook's face is calm. He's smiling sheepishly, even. ]

Well, this certainly the warmest welcome I've received in a new realm. Never had a feast held in my honor. I could have done without being dragged here by those nasty little imps, but I'll try not to hold it against our hosts for using such... unconventional methods.

[ In all of the kidnappings he's experienced (more than one, sadly enough), he's been subject to much worse abductions. He leads an interesting life. ]

I'd like to learn more about this shard that's supposedly embedded in all of us... Why hadn't we heard of such a thing before? Believe me, I'm quite familiar with magic.

[ Hook's eyebrows raise, and he reaches into his pocket to retrieve a small piece of paper. ]

Speaking of, I'd like to inquire about a few people-- perhaps you've ran into them, or heard a name in passing. They tend to leave quite an impression.

[ He begins to read off the paper. And yes, he had to write down the names so he wouldn't forget. ]

Rumplestiltskin, may also go by The Dark One. [ If there's any hope of getting out of this place, he'd know anything. ]

Snow White and Prince Charming, also known as Mary Margaret Blanchard and David Nolan. Belle. Regina Mills. [ He pauses, leaning forward and grinning a bit. ] The Evil Queen Regina, if you're into a more dramatic flair.

[ He looks back at the sheet. ]

There's more on the list, but I'll spare your ears. We're all weary, after all.

[ Oh but before he cuts off -- ]

Captain Killian Jones, by the way. Hook, if you prefer a more colorful moniker. A pleasure.

pontificus

( locked to Seelie )

I pray for those who've left the castle of Caer Glaem. [She dips her head gently, though she still finds herself at a loss for how she can help, do something.]

I know I am not the only one, [Fine lady or not.] who knows not what her presence in this realm could do. I do not understand this war, but I am here regardless. I have taken time to learn the court here, and I would like to ask how I could serve. I am not skilled in any craft nor have I any supernatural abilities. But I have two hands and a willingness to learn--

[She pauses.] I helped with the injured during the last attack, and though there are those called out, I'm not sure what use I could be.

[She doesn't want to be some spoiler princess-esque type. If she's learned anything, she must be proactive in her own life lest she fall aside for the wants of others.]

hexuality

Hullo.

[ And the smiling, freckled face of one Ginny Weasley is all up in this locket. She's clearly outside, soaking in the sunshine as she pulls back so her face isn't filling up the view. ]

There's been loads of talk lately about learning how to fight. Well, fight in other ways, proper swords and all. I reckon I got by all right with my wand during the worm fiasco but I can't deny that's a good thought. Merlin knows I've considered it. [ She laughs. ] Especially since I can imagine my mum in fits over me swinging a sword around.

[ She pauses, then, biting her lip around a thoughtful smile before scrambling forward (carefully) to hang her locket off a low branch of a tree in the bailey. She's sprawled (perhaps rather unladlylike, given the gown she's still getting used to wearing) on a stone bench, a broomstick in her lap, and she looks positively pleased about it. ]

But this is what I'm really excited about. I've had it since the fighting was over, as a gift... [ But she was still a little too banged up to use it. BUT NOW. ] It'd be nice, don't you think, to explore this place a bit? Beyond the castle. I'd love to see what's out there, properly out there.

[ Ginny releases the broom and it rises gently into the air. She touches it fondly. ]

Can't say I fancy flying in a dress, though. Am I allowed trousers here?

tiaraaction

[Today, Usagi is broadcasting from her suite. The pro's of being the Moon Princess, as it happens, is that her suite is so much more fancy than her bedroom. There's a shot of beautifully embroided pillows, then an elaborate ornate ceiling and then finally, Usagi, trying to comb her her fingers through her hair hastily.

She's grinning from ear to ear, albeit a little nervously. ] Hi, everyone! Uhm - I was wondering, would anyone like to come to the station with me?

[New places, she doesn't wanna go herself. ] Minako - you'll come, right? Anybody else is welcome too! I wanna see what it's like!

aliased

[ arya looks absolutely pleased when the locket turns on, happier than she's looked since arriving here. tilting her chin up, she gives a half grin before--] Watch this. [ she looks off screen for a moment (and in the background, you might see a cloak of the colors and sigil of house stark, hanging on the poster of the bed, but let's not talk about that.]

Nymeria. Shoes. [ she points to her shoes off screen, snaps her fingers, and points to the bed. but nothing happens, which only makes arya's smile fade into a patient annoyance.] Nymeria. Bring my shoes here. [ again, there's a pause as she waits for something to happen. and again, nothing really happens except for arya frowning more.]

Nymeria! No! [ then there's a flash of fur, whoever is watching will catch sight of a direwolf, not full grown (for now), the size of a regular wolf, before it snatches the locket from its hanging spot and then the world is spinning as she carries it to arya. dropping it on the ground in favor of jumping up to lick arya's face instead.

arya laughs, pushing the wolf down to reach for the locket to turn off, feeling a little embarrassed that showing off her wolf didn't work out as well as it should have.]

I guess you were never really good at fetching, Nymeria. [ CLICK. ]

parallels

[After a few moments of shifting around, the locket reveals a round faced young woman with dark hair. She observes the feed with a rather amused expression, clearly still getting used to communicating by locket, before speaking.]

Well. Giant worms. What an introduction. Though perhaps as an introduction to a war, it's rather fitting. Though it got me thinking.

Has anyone been in a battle before? Like an actual proper war with battle plans and troops and all that sort of thing? Not asking for a CV, as I know we're a land divided, but just a poll to start to figure out what sorts were recruited.

I mean you'd think, even with shards and all, they'd try to get people who have a bit of experience at this sort of thing. It's not like we just stumbled in here. Because that's about as far as I've gone with war. Defending a Theme Park from robots on an alien planet and winning by a bit of my clever strategy and mostly pure luck.

[She shrugs and tosses her hair behind her back. Even if the words she used are just strange, she her tone implies that it's little more than commenting what she did last week. And it was. She figures there's little point to secrets in a place like this. She continues briskly, sounding both thoughtful and businesslike.]

Suppose faeries work in mysteries ways. Never met a fairy before. Was half convinced they were aliens too. You'd be surprised about the things that are supposed to be mythical but really just end up being alien. A few ghosts, the Loch Ness monster.

Anyway, faeries and war. Any information on that would be brilliant as I've got to get my bearings if I'm going to stay here and help out as I don't think a literature degree is going to do much for anyone. Unless the giant worms have a fondness for Dickens.

torc

( In the days since Guinevere's arrival she has employed a careful tread - listening to the locket and learning its magic. It's in her nature to be swift and silent - the survival of the woads is in their stealth - and as little time as possible has been spent trapped between four walls. Her gown is gone, replaced with brown leathers and a sleeveless tunic featuring a cowl neck, and knotted belts criss-cross her hips to hold the sheaths for her long knives.

A little blue dye to pattern her skin and she'd be feeling much more like herself. )

The land is different here.

( She appears to be seated, her bow propped close, and is holding the locket between both hands. From the view of what's behind her it's clear that she isn't in Caer Glaem: dappled shadows slip across her face and a breeze twists itself through a canopy of leaves. Pausing, Guinevere glances off to the side for a moment like a fox with its ears pricked. She's still listening. The worms were nightmarish - she had never seen their like before - but she knows how to choose her battles as she knows when to disappear.

Presently, she speaks again. )

Do you feel it? Perhaps it is the magic of the so-called faerie folk, but it rests heavy between these trees. The weight of it is almost a comfort.

( Her eyes, although wry and amused, retain that depth of level and calm. Thus far she's ventured into the Great Greenwood surrounding Caer Glaem in an attempt to better understand the land, never wandering so far as to lose herself but rarely passing the same mark twice. Nature speaks to her and here its voice is warm and kind.

Guinevere's, on the other hand, is playful at scorn.)

I cannot imagine why any woman or man would prefer cold stone to a green shelter.

( Bloody hippies. Guinevere lifts an eyebrow, then tilts her head as though unsure of whether or not she wishes to continue.)

And Arthur - or perhaps Lancelot - if you have arrived in these strange lands ...

( A hand reaches to touch her bow as she lowers her lashes, smirking privately.)

Meet with me. Someone has to protect you from the brutes on the battlefield, after all.

mulletrock

[Guess who has two thumbs and is getting a handle on "fairy," technology. This guy. There's some rifling, and a brief shot of his face before he manages to get the damn thing figured out. Once he has the thing zero in on what he assumes is a reasonable view of him head on based on the image he's seeing he clears his throat.]

Yeah. This is weird.

[Coming from the guy that never had a myspace and doesn't use computers for anything but paranormal research, except for the occasional porno. Something he hasn't even mastered yet. He'd still rely on skin mags and pay-per-view if he had the option.]

Okay. Probably pointless, but new recruit here and I'm as pro-rights as the next guy but when I got the memo that I'd be waging war on behalf of fairies this isn't exactly what I anticipated.

[Dean scrubs a hand over his face, pausing to collect his thoughts. Sure, it's a bad joke, but anything to break the ice and take a little tension out of the situation.]

I've exhausted all my options on getting in touch with the people back home, and any resources on a way out are all coming up goose egg.

Anyone got any bright ideas? 'Cause so far this all seems like a really bad acid trip and getting enlisted by friggin' Tinkerbell's not my idea of a good time.

If you've got some insight that goes beyond the typical gist, feel free to speak up.

Entries tagged with dean winchester: supernatural

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