ataraxion | video; 001

[Of all the places Dean figured he’d wake up, submerged in a freaky Matrix-style pod filled with liquid wasn’t one of the top contenders. He’s woken up in far worse situations before and though that should be a comfort it’s not. All of this is supposed to be over...

What follows his rude re-entry into consciousness is a slick (literally) routine, old habits and what he knows mix, eyes, ears and hands checking out the entire medical bay. The scalpel he ends up with is more chance than anything and, though he’s got nowhere to stash it yet without risking serious injury, he keeps his grip on it tight. He has nothing else to go by aside from an itch inside his arm and it’s not until he twists it over to scratch that he reads the number tattooed into his skin. 124.

Another minute passes as he tries to figure out how stopping the apocalypse has anything to do with this, and he half considers the idea that he’s actually dead at least three times before the number and the lockers suddenly make sense. He finds 124 and opens it, stares inside at the weirdass Star Trek uniform and tries not to react to the keys he can see very clearly next to a lighter, a pack of beef jerky and his hunting knife. He’s not going to think about his baby, alone in a graveyard without him.

Once the uniform is grudgingly pulled on, his own belongings concealed in various places around his body, the device he doesn’t recognize is scooped up and flipped over twice in his hands, powered up and snorted at when it tells him to go to the blue lift. That ain’t happening anytime soon. Instead he’s messing around with every single button until he’s told he’s broadcasting to a network. Awesome.]

Who the hell’s in charge around here? And who wants to explain why I’ve got a number tattooed into my goddamn arm? I swear to that douche upstairs, if this has anythin’ to do with any of you feathery assholes I will kick your asses from here to... whatever.

I have no idea how I got here. I have a number in my arm and right now, for all I know, I’m in some kinda concentration camp for guys who the universe thought it hadn’t crapped on hard enough or long enough. Anybody with answers? I’ll trade you strips of my beef jerky for information. Maybe.

[The feed cuts out here, though anybody who’s anywhere close when he realizes where he is? Be prepared for expletives like you’ve never heard before.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Hello! Dean Winchester is the head of Zouichi's department in his previous game; is it okay to have Zouichi recognize him? For the record, they were pretty much just acquaintances.]

I don't know who's in charge, but let's not rush to conclusions. There's no evidence so far to support the idea that anyone has been harmed.

Edited 2011-12-08 18:40 (UTC)

[Dean will be super confused, but that's only going to make things more fun! Which... Dean isn't really having considering he's still refusing to take that blue lift anywhere. He just hasn't found another way out of the medical bay yet.]

I'm sorry, dude, but what part of this whole... tanks of liquid and breathing apparatus BDSM crap makes you want to avoid coming to conclusions that don't suck?

Well, it's not like it hasn't happened b--

...Dean Winchester?

...who the hell're you? 'cause I have no idea and somehow you know who I am. That's uh... that's rating pretty high on the creepometer, man.

What do you mean you have no idea? You're head of Security on the Transmigration 9. With Nightwing? Giant headaches, tons of paperwork? Remember?

I'm head of Security... where?

[Waaaaait a second.]

Where I'm from, you're part of the crew on a large, organic spaceship approximately the area of a small moon. Although I suppose it's possible you're from a different point in your timeline.

...You never mentioned the Trans 9 being your second ship, though.

There's really nothin' good about this conversation, man. You're coming off wacky and I still have no freakin' idea what you're talkin' about.

...I've been on a spaceship with you before? And you're certain it was me? Or a version of me?

[How there's a universe with a spaceman version of himself... yeah, he's not going to think on that too hard. It makes his head hurt and he has no whiskey to dull that ache, yet.]

It was definitely some version of you, at least. Your name and appearance are exactly the same. I don't think that's a coincidence.

[Also your attitude shhhh]

You have a younger brother named Sam, and you really like... Gazelles? No, Impalas.

[It was hard to remember things about your coworkers okay. Even in the other universe, Dean Winchester was not big on opening his heart to his fellow officers.]

[Keep talking, dude. All you're doing is implicating yourself further in being part of all this. Dean's growing more an more suspicious by the second...]

You want me to believe that a different version of me was on a spaceship somewhere else and that's how you know all that crap about me? That's... that's all you got?

Might I suggest that my story is so ridiculous it might be true?

[Is it time to break out the story of the Ohm is it is it]

Try me.

The reason we were aboard the ship was because a bunch of giant psychic space bugs destroyed our respective universes. Magic exists. Also dragons. You're friends with a talking cat. I flew a giant, transformable robot. Your brother was an X-Wing pilot. Also, you had a friend with a really nice trenchcoat.

[DEADPAN DEADPAN HE KNOWS HOW CRAZY THIS SOUNDS]

[Crazy as it sounds, Dean fixates on the one part of that whole explanation that means something to him. It's also the first time he's considering the idea that maybe this isn't a massive setup.]

Cas? Cas was there?

That might have been his name. He seemed rather confused at the time.

...yeah, sounds like him.

[Though that just makes this conversation ten times harder to process. He really needs a strong drink, now.]

You know what, maybe you should forget I said anything. For all I know, you're from some alternate timeline.

[He'd just treat Dean like... Dean's cousin or something. Who looked remarkably like Dead. And who was also named Dean.]

[His experience with alternate timelines is shady at best. What actually happened was he found out what he turned into five years in the future, and he didn't like it.]

Find me some whiskey and I will.

Oh, right. No more Beer Tree. Very well; I'll try to locate some alcohol.

I think we're about a million light-years past beer, buddy.

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