Sam Winchester (
collegedropout) wrote in
driftfleet2016-10-24 02:56 am
Entry tags:
voice. a quick sad post.
Who: Sam Winchester
Broadcast: fleetwide
Action: Red Fish
When: after a sad shuffle :C
[Sam's very much subdued the day that Dean vanishes. If he reacts more viscerally to it, to knowing that this Dean was returning to his inevitable death at Sam and satan's own hands, nobody'd know it — he closes himself up in his room, keeps himself distant for a little while. It helps, because it also gets him away from those damned echoes that have begun to snowball. He's tried his best to ignore them, and with Dean suddenly gone... he doesn't trust himself to be anything but stressed at the sight.
Anyway. Um. Best to move forward, right...? Get back into things. Working at the bar keeps his mind busy, as does helping with the garden, and there's also helping with the weird messages from the planet, and — dammit, Sam, get back into things. Fake it 'til you make it. This too shall pass, if you pretend hard enough that you're fine. So he breathes in deep, breathes out, and addresses the fleet.]
My brother, Dean, um. Dean Winchester's left the fleet. I wasn't sure how many people knew him, but...
[A pause.]
Anyone want to talk? I could use something to keep me occupied. Your choice of topic, just shoot. I can be a pretty good listener, too.
[Help me get out of this funk, huh.]
Broadcast: fleetwide
Action: Red Fish
When: after a sad shuffle :C
[Sam's very much subdued the day that Dean vanishes. If he reacts more viscerally to it, to knowing that this Dean was returning to his inevitable death at Sam and satan's own hands, nobody'd know it — he closes himself up in his room, keeps himself distant for a little while. It helps, because it also gets him away from those damned echoes that have begun to snowball. He's tried his best to ignore them, and with Dean suddenly gone... he doesn't trust himself to be anything but stressed at the sight.
Anyway. Um. Best to move forward, right...? Get back into things. Working at the bar keeps his mind busy, as does helping with the garden, and there's also helping with the weird messages from the planet, and — dammit, Sam, get back into things. Fake it 'til you make it. This too shall pass, if you pretend hard enough that you're fine. So he breathes in deep, breathes out, and addresses the fleet.]
My brother, Dean, um. Dean Winchester's left the fleet. I wasn't sure how many people knew him, but...
[A pause.]
Anyone want to talk? I could use something to keep me occupied. Your choice of topic, just shoot. I can be a pretty good listener, too.
[Help me get out of this funk, huh.]

voice
Considering the planets we've visited, it's completely possible they're magic-based, or supernatural, or whatever it could be classified as. Nothing seems to be set in stone; I mean, anything could have a scientific explanation, but... it also could not.
Anything that could answer our questions is on the Marsiva, as far as I can tell.
voice
voice
It's a weird mish-mash I don't think we've even begun to understand, even with the augments.
voice
Voice
Oh, totally. The easiest job ever.
[He smiles a bit; progress.]
How much you want to bet glitches are pretty much constantly intentional?
I've been placing bets.
Voice, our, not hour
voice
It just sucks that there's no real way of finding answers yet.
voice
Hey, I've got some things I should do. But if you want to talk theories or plans with me anytime [or need distractions or want to talk about loss or get a drink or...well, there's an invitation here in general] you know where to find me.
voice
[He smiles, and it's not as bright as usual, but it's a smile.]
... Thanks, Kitty.
voice