driftfleet | first one to make that doctor who joke loses

Entry tags:

first one to make that doctor who joke loses

Who: Everyone! All of you!
Broadcast: Maybe!
Action: Definitely!
When: Anytime during the toxic moon event!

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[boy oh boy, isn't everyone just so excited to explore this... charming... place...?

this is a game-wide mingle and the timeframe isn't super-important, so throw in with whatever you want! play war games, go shopping for gas masks, get lost in the wilderness, hide up in the Iskaulit and refuse to set foot on the moon, anything goes.

here's the main event info post for reference! have fun!]

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[Man, he's not gonna hit you. He just shakes his head, solemn.]

That's up to you. If throwing punches makes you feel better, fine.

... But it's not. Nothing changes that way, Dean.

[ Except you keep saying shit like it's going to suddenly fix things, and Dean is so not interested. Excuse him while he stares down the city street, trying to determine his best way out of this. And possibly find something he can break. A lot of somethings. ]

Pretty sure some things do.

[Sam frowns deeply, squinting at Dean, a sort of hardheadedness about him.]

Like what?

What does it solve? It's never solved anything before, it sure won't now.

[ Dean just drags his attention back, the most utterly long suffering. As if he's so damn sure that he's right in this argument, which he pretty much knows he isn't. But that's so not even the point.

Besides, Dean never said it solves anything, he just said it changes it. A point he will stand by, tremendously so. ]

Maybe it'd solve this.

[ Boy, that sure is a huge ass lie. ]

[He thins his lips, standing straighter.]

Yeah, well... I'm not Lucifer.

And even then, pretty sure punching him doesn't work in the long-run. Pretty sure working together would be a hell of a bigger benefit for the two of us. Even if it's just co-workers. Allies. Whatever you wanna call it.

You think I don't know that?

[ On all fronts. He knows all those things, and he knows them a little too goddamn well. Which is maybe why he's suddenly a little more ragey than he was a millisecond ago. ]

[He doesn't budge from his spot in front of Dean, but his expression softens nonetheless. It's strange — but home might be fucked over for him, too. And before Dean had showed up, he wasn't exactly in good spirits. Now, though, he's determined to try and keep his head above water and look out for Cas and him. Cas, after getting blackout drunk, after looking so lost. And now Dean, who is a trigger, a switch that flips, and to nothing good.

And yeah. Yeah, he feels guilt. He felt guilt when Cas told him, and he feels it now, facing the person he loves the most, the one whose life he surely has wrecked. He has no doubts that Dean and Cas are dead. Cas for sure, and Dean... Well. The guilt shows in his eyes despite his unwillingness to step back.

He lowers his voice instead, steps closer, now that the crowd is dispersing and things are settling again. He's relaxed, posture as easy and calm as if they were just like they were, on the road, speaking in hushed voices about who-dun-its from their latest case.]

I know you're not getting anything out of it, in the end. That's what I know.

You're on edge. You're ready to push and shove.

... But it's not gonna get rid of the other shit.

[ Dean hates this. Hates being looked at like some kind of raging bull, being taken on by someone who's trying so hard to be the calm in the storm. But more so than that, he hates being figured out, translated in ways he enjoys pretending he doesn't need. He's in no way foreign to it, Cas has been doing it on a daily basis for years now, and Sam did it even before, but he tries so damn hard to be unflappable. The proverbial rock, remaining stone cold in the face of everything else. This person who simply has no insides.

So why, why does Sam have to be so insistent when it comes to getting under his skin. ]

Because talking will. Right?

[ Sam is offering the impending threat of moving his way closer and Dean is staring off in the other direction, fully set on taking advantage of his escape route. Now that the sea has parted, Dean can't help but already remove himself from this conversation, figuring that Sam will once again try his hand at digging deeper, and he'll take the opportunity to simply make himself gone. ]

Won't know until we try, right?

[He smiles, and while it's strained and doesn't reach his eyes (how could it, when this situation is so miserable), it's at least something in contrast to Dean's darker, discontent expression.]

Look, whatever happened back home -- in this place, I'm here for you, man.

Our mistake was walking away from each other for good. We don't have to do that here.

[ Really.

You're really going to put that out there? It's almost like you know he really wants to walk away from this, really really wants to. And maybe Sam does, but Dean still has it in his head that he wants to leave. Except now he feels twice as guilty about it, as if he's been firmly rooted to the ground without his goddamn approval. ]

Except if I don't walk away from you right now? We're gonna have more issues.

[Sam's shoulders sag, and he sighs through his nose. This could be the last time he sees Dean — here in this place. Because if Lucifer did kill him, or plans to, back home? Then Billie will no doubt make good on her word, to cast him into the void. If that's the case... He's got a limited time to figure out a way to escape here, go back in time, and fix the errors back in his world. And if he vanishes here back to his world, then he's fucked. Dean'll have to carry on as is.

So this could be it. This could be the last Dean he sees: one that doesn't want anything to do with him. And boy, that fucking stings. He feels like a heavy weight is on his shoulders. Do you really hate me that much? He looks down at the space between them.]

... Pretty sure it can't get any worse.

But what I said... still hasn't changed. You're not gonna be okay -- I know that. [Because even he'll never be completely alright. Cas isn't either. They all have their shitty trauma loads to bear.] But things'll get better here. I'll figure something out. I'm not gonna leave you behind; I'll be waiting.

[ As if it truly couldn't get any worse.

Dean averts his gaze upwards, avoiding Sam's pitiful yet unintentional insistence at all costs. He doesn't know quite what it is about leaving for what- a day, two days? - that's got Sam all riled up, and he's not going to ask. As far as Dean is concerned, he's figuring that Sam will harass him anyway, and walking off hardly means much of anything apart from the fact that if he sticks around, he'll likely break his way into another fight sooner rather than later.

And he's trying. It might not look like it, but he's trying. ]

What do you want me to say, that i'm getting a kick out of this? [ Because really, he's not doing it purposefully, and certainly not just to be an asshole. ] I am trying to come up with a solution, here. And walking away seems like a damn good one.

[... Is he making this worse? That's what he can't help but ask himself. It had worked before, with his Dean. When Dean was a demon, he'd never stopped trying to get to him, to get through to him. When he was under the influence of the Mark, he'd never let him get too far. Always went after him, tried to bring him back to himself. He did it for Cas, he'll do it for Dean, because that's what... family's supposed to do, right? It's what Dean had resented him for, when he had thought Dean was dead and gone — and certainly not in a fucking afterlife for monsters.

Isn't this what he's supposed to do? Didn't not doing this fuck up their timeline and create this other universe to begin with? What would have happened if Dean didn't come for him, when Lucifer had possessed him and was winning?

He doesn't look at Dean, quiet for a long, terrible moment... but nods weakly.

He has to... respect Dean's choices here. If Sam's just some bad reminder and that's it... then maybe he's just... being the villain here. And that's not what he wants to do.]

... Alright. Alright.

I won't push it. Just... If you ever need anything. I'm there.

[He takes a step back. Gives Dean room to leave.

And it hurts like a bitch.]

[ Is he making it worse -- In all honesty? Dean has no idea. Doesn't have a clue. Staying and chatting could quite possibly fix it all up, stitch it back together in some mishmashed kind of way, but that doesn't mean he's capable of it. He talks, sure, but the bullshit he gives to people isn't exactly the kind of conversation he knows Sam is looking for. It won't be how's the weather and does the devil really have horns?

Apart from that, Dean just can't quite manage bringing things to the surface.

Not to the face that- well, Nope. Not going there.

Dean is just fairly sure that he can't win no matter how he looks at this, that right this very second he won't get any further no matter which way it's approached. And that he'll only make it worse by lingering. And so he finally turns and heads off thata'way, head bowed as he goes. ]

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first one to make that doctor who joke loses

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