OPEN

[notamachine]

Characters: Dean Winchester and YOU!
Date: Feb. 12
Location: Throughout the Water sector.
Situation: Dean is on a turtle. This is not, actually, the weirdest thing to happen to him.
Warnings/Rating: Dean's potty-mouth. :(



[He's taken a few days to adjust and a few things are apparent. First, this is definitely not a dream. It was a possibility he briefly entertained, but everything really does appear to be just as real as he was told it is. Two, he has a serious shortage of spellwork ingredients. The only finger bones he has are the ones in the hexbag that came with him and he has no idea where in god's name he's supposed to find raw opium on a giant turtle, which means he has no way of working a spell to try and contact anyone on the other side.

On the upside, nothing has tried to kill him (yet. Iorvath, we're looking at you.), which is a definite advantage over ...pretty much anywhere else he's ever been in his life, Heaven included. So there's that.

So okay, Dean's come to the conclusion that he may be stuck here for the long haul and he might not be able to get the same kinds of supplies Bobby used to have lying around, but he can at least build up a minor arsenal. Step one: salt. This proves more difficult than it sounds because buying anything involves dealing with kedan and it's apparent to anyone that they make him incredibly uncomfortable. He might not be openly antagonistic toward them at the moment, but it's obvious he's not a fan, either. No, he looks at them the same way someone might look at dog crap smeared on a shoe. Gross.

It's cool. He's still managing to successfully get the things he needs--or at least, some weird approximations of them that he's pretty sure might work--and he meanders his way from shop to shop with a slowly growing number of items in his hands.]

Comments

[imaginate]

[Kyle's out; he spends a lot of his time out, actually. For someone used to the vastness of space, the turtle feels like being confined in a lot of ways, and wandering around helps him feel less so.

He spots Dean and at first, considers not approaching him. Kyle been called naive, yes, even if he isn't; such an antagonistic person isn't high on his list of possible friends. If he were more suspicious, he'd consider stalking Dean, but he isn't. Just making sure the new guy keeps his nose clean. There's something about this newcomer that Kyle's drawn to - and he's not sure why.

Curiosity wins over caution. He waves at Dean.] Looking for something?

[notamachine]

[Dean's had that itchy feeling at the back of his neck that means someone has an eye on him for a few minutes. He's not too concerned--if someone has it out for him, which is possible, considering the responses he saw, they're unlikely to do anything about it in the middle of a marketplace. Besides, it's not the you're-about-to-die itch, so he's probably okay.

So he's not entirely surprised when someone waves at him. He takes a couple seconds to think before he responds. What was this guy's name again? He knows he talked to him over that network a couple days ago--Right!]

Kyle. I was looking for chicken feathers. [Yeah, Dean, because that's not weird.] They gave me cow feathers.

[imaginate]

[He catches up and glances at the grocery bags, mildly amused.] Tall order. They don't have chickens here. At least, I don't think they do.

[notamachine]

I saw something they called a chicken and maybe it was one. Chicken crossed with a rat.

[Dean is never eating chicken here. Ever.]

Thanks for the other day, by the way. I appreciate it.

[imaginate]

Yeah, the food here really made me consider going vegan. [He's joking; he's eaten much stranger things in Oa's mess hall.] No problem. I understand wanting to find family but... [Shakes his head.] I'd hate it if they were trapped here too.

[notamachine]

So long as we can find a way back--and that's exactly what I plan to do--we're not trapped. [So there. Don't worry, Kyle, Dean's got this covered. Or uh. Something.] Sam'll be fine without me for a little while.

[imaginate]

Seeing as there's a way we got here - there's a way out. I've heard of people leaving but it seems they do so against their will, because their stuff is left behind.

[At mention of Sam, Kyle can't help but remember Guy, and his expression becomes slightly wistful for a moment, before it flips back to its usual amiable.]

[notamachine]

[Yep, Dean catches that look. He knows that particular brand of wistful. He slips into concerned big brother automatically.] You okay there?

[imaginate]

Yeah, I'm good. [Kyle is an awful liar, but he doesn't want Dean push the issue. They barely know each other, after all.] This place, it's just too weird sometimes.

[Not that he hasn't dealt with weird before, but this particular brand is peculiar even for him. And he doesn't have the Corps around to help deal. He's been there before, of course, when he was the last Lantern in the universe, but it's harder now because he knows what it's like to have them there, and he knows they can't come here easily - for the first time, it hits him that if time's stopped on the outside they might not even be looking. His shoulders sink; for a moment he shuts it all out and withdraws to a place of loneliness. Then, he remembers he's not out walking alone.

He offers Dean a smile that's maybe just too quick to plaster itself on his face.] What else are you looking for, anyway? I live around here, I can give you a hand.

[notamachine]

[Dean watches the changes that flicker across Kyle's face closely. He knows that look, he knows what loneliness looks like. He also knows what it looks like when someone is lying to him. God knows he's had years of experience with Sam and Cas both.

Still, he barely knows this guy, so while he can sympathize with what he's seeing, he's not going to pry. He's not exactly the most forthcoming guy about his own feels, after all.]

Well, if you don't mind a shopping list, I'm still looking for a place that'll sell me some salt. And by some I mean somewhere in the neighborhood of ten pounds.

[imaginate]

Salt huh. [Oddly enough, he doesn't sound surprised by this at all.] There's a place nearby. They probably don't have that much, but near enough, you could always go back next week. [A beat, and he remembers something Dean mentioned in the network post.] Do the locals freak you out or something?

[Again, he's not judging, merely curious.]

[notamachine]

[Dean shakes his head. No point in hiding his unease--not that he was trying terribly hard in the first place.] Where I'm from, things that look like them aren't friendlies, so yeah, I guess you could say they freak me out.

[...He'd like to salt and burn all of them.]

[imaginate]

[Kyle shoots Dean a look that says I don't blame you. Not everything he'd met out there in the universe was agreeable either, but there were also very few real monsters.]

They're friendly, for the most part - once you get past the fact that they've all drunk some kind of Kool Aid. We don't have gang activity in Water Sector, but you might want to watch your back when you're in Fire or Metal. [Beat.] What kind of world do you come from?

[notamachine]

Creepy and cultists. That's awesome. [That's not awesome.] Since everyone keeps talking about other worlds, you ever hear of a place called Kansas?

[imaginate]

Yeah, Dorothy, we're not there anymore.

[notamachine]

[8|] Shut up, Toto.

[imaginate]

[He laughs; a rare, genuine laugh.] Should have been more specific. There's people here from worlds with magic, superheroes, space travel, and there's some which don't have those at all. Which type is yours?

[notamachine]

Huh. [That makes sense, given the things he's seen. Still a little weird to hear it out loud--wow, is this how non-hunters feel when they find about about the supernatural?

...No, Dean. They feel terrified. Not faintly bemused. Big difference.]

Little bit of everything, I guess. We've got your witches, werewolves, demons, vampires, angels...aliens. Not many people know it, though.

[imaginate]

[Kyle frowns - that's unpleasant.] Magic?

[notamachine]

Loads of it. Demons and angels each have their own special brand. The kind humans use is a little different. Plus, y'know, there's rituals and shit.

[Dean shut up now pls]

[imaginate]

Let me guess, everything supernatural is out to kill you in horrible ways.

[Watching movies with his big brother pays off, huh.]

[notamachine]

[Dean tosses Kyle a pained little smile.] And eat your liver. Or your thyroid. Or your heart. Usually your heart.

[imaginate]

[Kyle's instinct is to mock it mercilessly, but he tones it down.] You're going to fit right in here. We had Night of the Living Dead a couple of weeks ago.

[notamachine]

[Kyle wouldn't be the first person to mock it mercilessly.]

Glad I missed that. Killed zombies, been chased by zombies, been a zombie. I'm done with them. Rather deal with another siren than more zombies...

[cynisme]

[It's sheer boredom that has him even remotely interesting in shopping. He's bought three more bottles, sure, but what he's searching for are paints.

Why he's bothering, he's unsure, but he's already had his morning drink and a little liquid motivation has him meandering the water sector, sipping from his flask and poking around shops.

Currently though, he's squatting outside a shop with a box full of charcoal and an open bottle. This is people-watching.]