Sam Winchester (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
collegedropout) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
driftfleet2015-12-02 05:47 pm
collegedropout) wrote in driftfleet2015-12-02 05:47 pm
Entry tags:
entry 001 | arrival
Who: Sam and [OPEN] to all!
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: Marsiva
When: December 2nd
[When Sam wakes up, he expects to be laying in his bedroom in the bunker, tired from a particularly long case (clown, there was a clown, he's getting too old for this shit—) but nope. He opens his eyes to stare at a completely foreign ceiling, in a completely foreign bunk. He's of course in his nighttime clothes, to boot. No weapons, no phone, no nothing. Okay. He considers all kinds of possibilities, first. Djinn? Some sort of curse? Witchcraft? Maybe even some sort of dream-root-related snafu, or angels being dicks (somehow). There's also that little elephant in the room, in the back of his head: dude, you know exactly how this kind of thing plays out.
He rises up, easy to spot among a milling, small group with his six feet and four inches of [giraffe-necked] height. When he finally sees the high-tech machinery, the casual and potentially oh-so-different newbies wandering, the absurd amount of space out there — he says but one thing in front of the people around him, first and foremost, to break the ice:]
Well. Shit.
[Well shit indeed. He doesn't panic, but he does suddenly crave another vacation, somewhere without rips in space and time (if that's even the case here; maybe he's a captive to some higher power, because that wouldn't surprise him at all). When he's got the broadcasting thing down — thanks Adstringendum for the life lessons on what to do first — he begrudgingly addresses yet another audience, slipping on that polite and professional (and, okay, exasperated) aura that he's good at.]
So, show of hands. How many of you out there have fallen into other universes before? Because this sort of thing's getting kind of old.
... Did anyone from Adstringendum show up? Guys? Don't tell me the PCD's teleporting feature is going on the fritz or something. I know it was kind of too good to be true, but it was going well for a few months there. [Silly Sam, nothing stays good forever. But he hopes, y'know?] Let me know if I'm riding solo here, fellas.
And, uh. This isn't exactly my first rodeo, sure, but it's the first time I've ever... um... been in space. So I gotta ask, for my sanity: where exactly do us new spacemen go from here? Other than shooting jokes about Roswell, New Mexico.
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: Marsiva
When: December 2nd
[When Sam wakes up, he expects to be laying in his bedroom in the bunker, tired from a particularly long case (clown, there was a clown, he's getting too old for this shit—) but nope. He opens his eyes to stare at a completely foreign ceiling, in a completely foreign bunk. He's of course in his nighttime clothes, to boot. No weapons, no phone, no nothing. Okay. He considers all kinds of possibilities, first. Djinn? Some sort of curse? Witchcraft? Maybe even some sort of dream-root-related snafu, or angels being dicks (somehow). There's also that little elephant in the room, in the back of his head: dude, you know exactly how this kind of thing plays out.
He rises up, easy to spot among a milling, small group with his six feet and four inches of [giraffe-necked] height. When he finally sees the high-tech machinery, the casual and potentially oh-so-different newbies wandering, the absurd amount of space out there — he says but one thing in front of the people around him, first and foremost, to break the ice:]
Well. Shit.
[Well shit indeed. He doesn't panic, but he does suddenly crave another vacation, somewhere without rips in space and time (if that's even the case here; maybe he's a captive to some higher power, because that wouldn't surprise him at all). When he's got the broadcasting thing down — thanks Adstringendum for the life lessons on what to do first — he begrudgingly addresses yet another audience, slipping on that polite and professional (and, okay, exasperated) aura that he's good at.]
So, show of hands. How many of you out there have fallen into other universes before? Because this sort of thing's getting kind of old.
... Did anyone from Adstringendum show up? Guys? Don't tell me the PCD's teleporting feature is going on the fritz or something. I know it was kind of too good to be true, but it was going well for a few months there. [Silly Sam, nothing stays good forever. But he hopes, y'know?] Let me know if I'm riding solo here, fellas.
And, uh. This isn't exactly my first rodeo, sure, but it's the first time I've ever... um... been in space. So I gotta ask, for my sanity: where exactly do us new spacemen go from here? Other than shooting jokes about Roswell, New Mexico.
video.
video.
[ bloody americans. ]
video.
As dangerous as my job could be, I'd rather not have your job.
[you heard it here folks, dangerous deadly hunter life > telephone operator.]
What year are you from?
video.
video.
Earlier than when my grandfather was from, though. If I remember right, I met my grandfather from the 60's.
[—oh right]
Long story.
Enjoying the latest tech yet, at least?
video.
That rather depends upon your definition of enjoying. For now, I think I'm still more bewildered than all else. But it is nice to use something clearer than an old radio to talk to each other.
video.
If it makes you feel any better, we're kind of in the same boat. I'm pretty sure I'm really friggin' far behind in this time's technology. We can bumble through it together?
video.
video.
... Which is good, because I'd rather not be in charge of piloting one of these.
video.
Re: video.
The WRAF's, was it?
video.
[ another (partial) lie. the wrafs make for an easy cover when you're a woman in uniform. [
I'm quite retired from that work, now.
video.
My father was a marine. It's not exactly something you can shake off, though, so he's always been that kind of hard-ass. Kind of a drill sergeant. We used to butt heads a lot because of it.
[.... WELL SORT OF. There's more to it than that, but his isn't a partial lie so much as it is omission. He's not about to dive into the more severe of his daddy issues.]
video.
Sergeants are tricky beasts. [ she smiles more with her eyes than with her mouth. ] Drill sergeants especially so.
video.
I was a runty kid who preferred reading books and hanging out in my classroom for fun.
You can imagine the old man's reaction, I'm sure.
[also i wanted to play soccer instead of hunting werewolves
way to be a disappointment sam]
video.
Only that I'm sorry he didn't see it that way. We did not defeat Jerry on brawn alone.
video.
Not exactly the forces, remember? Hunters. Family business.
After twenty-plus years of it, you just kind of roll with it — but I admit, I am enjoying this time away. My brother would probably kick me in the ass if he heard me say that, though.
[They always have a lot of shit to do back home. And as much as Sam would like to get back and deal with what's happening — as absolutely freaked out as he is and what he thinks needs to be done, he still... appreciates down time. Time to think.
Besides, he knows currently there's nothing he can do to get back. you learn these things.]
video.
video.
You could say that. He's a bit more enthusiastic about the job.
Which isn't always a bad thing, right? Compared to being disinterested about your work...
[There have been issues, for Dean. Issues with the black and white outlook, or the sometimes unpleasant steering into bloodlust alley. He's seen Dean during some of his worst times, and it's not pretty.]
And are you a gung-ho telephone operator?
video.
video.
video.
[ hah. ]
video.
You could, you know. Settle down. If you're actually wanting that.
... Of course the whole 'finding someone to be with' part is kind of... hard, but when you find them, it clicks.
video.
I'm sorry, Mister Winchester. I only meany -- well, you see, I was boarding at this lodging house not so long ago and that was one of the conditions for staying under its landlady's roof: to be a woman of sound mind, eager to get out of the workplace and put herself behind white pickets.
Suffice it to say that I did not last long at the Griffith.
video.
In that case, run long and far from the lodging house. In 2014 almost half of the general workforce is women compared to the 15 percent in the 60's, and the percentage of women in manager positions in recent years has increased by about 30% since the 1940's.
...
What I'm saying is, women will inherit the earth if they aren't already.
So don't bother with a sound mind; you can predict the future.
video.
video.
video.
video.
video.
video.