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Aug. 4th, 2012
043. Ten Years Gone
Aug. 4th, 2012 01:26 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
samson( Molotov Cocktease's Friends )
[MEANWHILE... Brock is actually sitting in his cabin. Just sitting there. How exciting.
He dictates into the journal again after a fashion, but without any filters.]
So if I started a communal garden or something, would anyone use it? I don't want to be stuck tending to everybody's shit if people get bored of it is what I'm saying.
But like ... I'm thinkin' maybe we should start being more self-sufficient around here. Apparently the castle doesn't like giving us a total free ride, so. It might be worth the effort.
[MEANWHILE... Brock is actually sitting in his cabin. Just sitting there. How exciting.
He dictates into the journal again after a fashion, but without any filters.]
So if I started a communal garden or something, would anyone use it? I don't want to be stuck tending to everybody's shit if people get bored of it is what I'm saying.
But like ... I'm thinkin' maybe we should start being more self-sufficient around here. Apparently the castle doesn't like giving us a total free ride, so. It might be worth the effort.
gottaknockhard[Spike finally reached his limit. Well, his new limit; the one he set after he reached the last one. The castle took it a few steps too far when it started making him fall in love with random residents, then followed it up by screwing with his memories and giving him new ones that would bring him nightmares for the rest of his life. There's no way he's going back there. -- He's currently lying on a bench in town, where he's been sleeping for more than a week just to avoid anything related to the castle. Which has worked, but as a consequence gave him an obscenely sore neck. No plan is ever perfect.
He takes off his jacket to use as a pillow when he notices the journal still stuck inside it.]
You again. [He could have sworn he threw it into the duck pond on his way out. But since he's stuck with it, that could be a sign... Maybe there's another reason he's having trouble sleeping. Against his better judgment, he sits up and rubs his neck. Then he finally opens the journal and pulls out something to write with.]
( People he was in lo-... )
[Turns out, he still doesn't want to deal with it. Scowling at himself, he uses the journal to block the sun from his eyes and lies back down on the bench.]
Whatever.
He takes off his jacket to use as a pillow when he notices the journal still stuck inside it.]
You again. [He could have sworn he threw it into the duck pond on his way out. But since he's stuck with it, that could be a sign... Maybe there's another reason he's having trouble sleeping. Against his better judgment, he sits up and rubs his neck. Then he finally opens the journal and pulls out something to write with.]
( People he was in lo-... )
[Turns out, he still doesn't want to deal with it. Scowling at himself, he uses the journal to block the sun from his eyes and lies back down on the bench.]
Whatever.
Treasure 015 | Out in the woods | Dictated
Aug. 4th, 2012 02:29 pmyouhavebeenflynned[Harry was sick about sitting around doing nothing. Sure, it was his dream to be rich enough to not have to do anything and the Castle did give him that. But he didn't have the money to buy himself everything. He could wish for almost everything he wanted but it wasn't the same thing as being able to buy everything he wanted. He had heard something about the castle demanding pay back for the wishes recently so that was also a thing that made it not feel like his dream. Not to mention that he couldn't get away from here.
In order to do something about his restless spirit he had packed a few things and headed out to the forest. Once there he had set up a small camp and was currently climbing some nearby rocks, for exercise. Not being tracking around the world all the time had had some unpleasant consequences.
The journal was floating nearby and the only sounds which were recorded was the sounds of his breathing, small falling rocks and the late summer breeze. Care to find out what he was up to?]
In order to do something about his restless spirit he had packed a few things and headed out to the forest. Once there he had set up a small camp and was currently climbing some nearby rocks, for exercise. Not being tracking around the world all the time had had some unpleasant consequences.
The journal was floating nearby and the only sounds which were recorded was the sounds of his breathing, small falling rocks and the late summer breeze. Care to find out what he was up to?]
is0latedthinker((Backdated to the morning Sam leaves the Castle.))
[Flynn glances over at the closed bedroom door as he sips his coffee] Either he’s sleeping later than usual or he’s up to something in there. [His gaze turns to Alan, eyebrows raised in question.]
[Alan mirrors Flynn’s expression right back at him.] You’re right - he’s not usually this quiet. Should be up and at ‘em by now. [He pushes back from the table and stands, gently knocking twice on Sam’s door.] Sam? You alright in there?
[When there was no answer Flynn’s forehead creased in concern. He crossed to stand at the door with Alan] Hey, kiddo, you awake? [He pauses for a moment, listening. His heart drops as the silence brings one of his biggest worries climbing to the surface. Taking a slow breath he opens the door a crack, looking in.] Sam?
[By now the younger Flynn should have woken up, had he not been awake before. Sam seemed fine-tuned to the sound of his father’s voice, one ear always listening for it. There’s no rustle of covers, no awakening groan. It should be quiet, but all Alan can hear is his heartbeat thudding in his ears; even Kevin’s voice sounds like he’s far away, like Alan’s underwater. He applies a little pressure to the door to open it further, and the bed, immaculately made, comes into view. The older man drags in a deep breath.] No...
[Flynn opens his mouth but no words come out. He stands in the doorway staring at the empty bed - the first time he’s seen it made since he got there - as if Sam were going to hop out from behind the door and shout “gotcha” at any second. But he knows that’s not going to happen. He’s not sure how, but he just knows that his son is no longer there. Tears brim in his eyes as he steps into the room, walking towards the empty bed.]
[The pit in Alan’s stomach intensifies, but he shakes his head to try and clear it. He’d not given up hope on Flynn then, and he certainly wasn’t going to give up on Sam now, regardless of what his instincts were telling him - that dread that meant the worst had occurred.] This’s happened before. When I thought I was Tron, when you went to the mirrored world... We have to make sure. Maybe someone’s seen him.
[Alan’s voice shakes Flynn out of his daze. He nods, turning to look at his friend.] You’re right. I... I’ll go check his other room. [With one final glance at the empty bed he turns to leave the bedroom. As long as there’s that one final shred of hope he has to hold onto it. Until he sees for his own eyes, knows for certain.]
[Alan nods to Flynn and squeezes firmly on Flynn’s shoulder in a consoling manner.] I’ll go too. [He can’t leave his friend alone to face what might be the worst thing to happen to each of them. After Flynn passes him, Alan scoops up his journal and quickly filters a message, trying to keep his voice calm so as not to scare the boy. Nonetheless, his voice shakes.]
(Sam Flynn)
Sam, where are you? Your room’s empty, didn’t tell us where you were going...Your dad and I are really worried.
Please, Sam, answer me.
[That, too, garners no response; hope starts to flicker in Alan’s heart. He keeps his journal open as he quickly follows Flynn to the door.]
[The silence from the journal makes the weight in Flynn’s chest even heavier. He keeps his breathing steady, focusing on the task at hand to keep himself from focusing on the fear he knows both he and Alan share. He glances over at the other man as they head down the stairs. Alan took care of Sam when he couldn’t - longer than he had in fact. If he really was gone he knew they would share that grief equally. He thinks about saying something, trying to be hopeful, but everything just sounds empty. Instead he just reaches out and touches Alan’s shoulder as they pass through the lobby, both to reassure Alan and to remind himself that no matter what happens he’s not alone.]
[Flynn’s touch helps to ground Alan’s thoughts, holding off a stream of progressively negative what-if scenarios. He meets his friend’s eyes to let him know the gesture is appreciated.
As quickly as they can, the two men make it up to Sam’s old room, running as they reach Sam’s hallway. Alan stops short in front of Sam’s door.
The nameplate is empty.
No no no no no. It can’t be. Sam can’t be gone, just like that.]
Sam... [Any hope that Flynn had managed to stir up was crushed by the empty door in front of him. He doesn’t even try to stop the tears that overflow his eyes, coursing down his cheeks as he reaches out to touch the door. His son was gone. He’s gone home to grow up not knowing where he was or how much he loved him. That hurts more than the thought of being without his little boy again. He closes his eyes, his head dropping forward as he mourns the first thing the castle’s taken away from him that truly hurts.]
[Alan’s grief is quiet, subdued. The real mourning will come later, in their rooms up in the Tower. Where every day, he’ll wake up without the lively noises of a young boy who hadn’t yet become as cynical as he would be in twenty years. Tears prick at the corners of his eyes, misting the lenses of his glasses. He can’t speak past the lump in his throat, and he’s powerless to do anything but watch as his friend is overcome with sorrow for his son, the same sadness that’s boring holes into his heart, threatening to drown him.
A few minutes stretch on for what seems like hours before Alan lays his hand once again on Flynn’s shoulder and the two of them head back to their rooms.
Once they’re back and Alan has found his voice, he filters again to the journal, his voice hoarse.]
(Friends of Sam Flynn)
Sam’s gone home.
((Open to action on their way back to their rooms, or over the journal.))
[Flynn glances over at the closed bedroom door as he sips his coffee] Either he’s sleeping later than usual or he’s up to something in there. [His gaze turns to Alan, eyebrows raised in question.]
[Alan mirrors Flynn’s expression right back at him.] You’re right - he’s not usually this quiet. Should be up and at ‘em by now. [He pushes back from the table and stands, gently knocking twice on Sam’s door.] Sam? You alright in there?
[When there was no answer Flynn’s forehead creased in concern. He crossed to stand at the door with Alan] Hey, kiddo, you awake? [He pauses for a moment, listening. His heart drops as the silence brings one of his biggest worries climbing to the surface. Taking a slow breath he opens the door a crack, looking in.] Sam?
[By now the younger Flynn should have woken up, had he not been awake before. Sam seemed fine-tuned to the sound of his father’s voice, one ear always listening for it. There’s no rustle of covers, no awakening groan. It should be quiet, but all Alan can hear is his heartbeat thudding in his ears; even Kevin’s voice sounds like he’s far away, like Alan’s underwater. He applies a little pressure to the door to open it further, and the bed, immaculately made, comes into view. The older man drags in a deep breath.] No...
[Flynn opens his mouth but no words come out. He stands in the doorway staring at the empty bed - the first time he’s seen it made since he got there - as if Sam were going to hop out from behind the door and shout “gotcha” at any second. But he knows that’s not going to happen. He’s not sure how, but he just knows that his son is no longer there. Tears brim in his eyes as he steps into the room, walking towards the empty bed.]
[The pit in Alan’s stomach intensifies, but he shakes his head to try and clear it. He’d not given up hope on Flynn then, and he certainly wasn’t going to give up on Sam now, regardless of what his instincts were telling him - that dread that meant the worst had occurred.] This’s happened before. When I thought I was Tron, when you went to the mirrored world... We have to make sure. Maybe someone’s seen him.
[Alan’s voice shakes Flynn out of his daze. He nods, turning to look at his friend.] You’re right. I... I’ll go check his other room. [With one final glance at the empty bed he turns to leave the bedroom. As long as there’s that one final shred of hope he has to hold onto it. Until he sees for his own eyes, knows for certain.]
[Alan nods to Flynn and squeezes firmly on Flynn’s shoulder in a consoling manner.] I’ll go too. [He can’t leave his friend alone to face what might be the worst thing to happen to each of them. After Flynn passes him, Alan scoops up his journal and quickly filters a message, trying to keep his voice calm so as not to scare the boy. Nonetheless, his voice shakes.]
(Sam Flynn)
Sam, where are you? Your room’s empty, didn’t tell us where you were going...Your dad and I are really worried.
Please, Sam, answer me.
[That, too, garners no response; hope starts to flicker in Alan’s heart. He keeps his journal open as he quickly follows Flynn to the door.]
[The silence from the journal makes the weight in Flynn’s chest even heavier. He keeps his breathing steady, focusing on the task at hand to keep himself from focusing on the fear he knows both he and Alan share. He glances over at the other man as they head down the stairs. Alan took care of Sam when he couldn’t - longer than he had in fact. If he really was gone he knew they would share that grief equally. He thinks about saying something, trying to be hopeful, but everything just sounds empty. Instead he just reaches out and touches Alan’s shoulder as they pass through the lobby, both to reassure Alan and to remind himself that no matter what happens he’s not alone.]
[Flynn’s touch helps to ground Alan’s thoughts, holding off a stream of progressively negative what-if scenarios. He meets his friend’s eyes to let him know the gesture is appreciated.
As quickly as they can, the two men make it up to Sam’s old room, running as they reach Sam’s hallway. Alan stops short in front of Sam’s door.
The nameplate is empty.
No no no no no. It can’t be. Sam can’t be gone, just like that.]
Sam... [Any hope that Flynn had managed to stir up was crushed by the empty door in front of him. He doesn’t even try to stop the tears that overflow his eyes, coursing down his cheeks as he reaches out to touch the door. His son was gone. He’s gone home to grow up not knowing where he was or how much he loved him. That hurts more than the thought of being without his little boy again. He closes his eyes, his head dropping forward as he mourns the first thing the castle’s taken away from him that truly hurts.]
[Alan’s grief is quiet, subdued. The real mourning will come later, in their rooms up in the Tower. Where every day, he’ll wake up without the lively noises of a young boy who hadn’t yet become as cynical as he would be in twenty years. Tears prick at the corners of his eyes, misting the lenses of his glasses. He can’t speak past the lump in his throat, and he’s powerless to do anything but watch as his friend is overcome with sorrow for his son, the same sadness that’s boring holes into his heart, threatening to drown him.
A few minutes stretch on for what seems like hours before Alan lays his hand once again on Flynn’s shoulder and the two of them head back to their rooms.
Once they’re back and Alan has found his voice, he filters again to the journal, his voice hoarse.]
(Friends of Sam Flynn)
Sam’s gone home.
((Open to action on their way back to their rooms, or over the journal.))
five. [action only]
Aug. 4th, 2012 04:53 pmselfdom[ so you might be wondering outside into a mess ripped up grass, dirt on everything and yeah that looks like a tree torn up in the distance. in the middle of this all stands one conner kent next to one superdog currently rolling around in said dirt ]
C'mon Krypto, get up-- [ boy tries to get dog to stand up and leave. dogs says no. boy gives up and just runs a hand through his hair ]
I'm so not cleaning all this up.
C'mon Krypto, get up-- [ boy tries to get dog to stand up and leave. dogs says no. boy gives up and just runs a hand through his hair ]
I'm so not cleaning all this up.
fourtieth phase [ written ]
Aug. 4th, 2012 07:54 pmwalkinthruwallsEveryone's talking about what happened with the families, and I'll also add "yeah, that was weird", but not everyone was there. I know a cruise was mentioned, so what was it like? The only time I've been on a boat was when everything was turned to pirate land, so I hope it wasn't like that again.
So, where did you go? And what did you do?
[ Aka she's avoiding adding more of "yeah, that was weird" and in depth thoughts about how she actually feels about the family time. Conflicted ]
[ Galadriel & The Fifth Doctor ]
Are you busy?
So, where did you go? And what did you do?
[ Aka she's avoiding adding more of "yeah, that was weird" and in depth thoughts about how she actually feels about the family time. Conflicted ]
[ Galadriel & The Fifth Doctor ]
Are you busy?