09 May 2015 @ 10:42 am
I could use some help.

[Sam is sitting on the floor, and he looks distressed as the feed starts. A little lost, perhaps, and it's clear that whatever is going to come out of his mouth isn't good news.

The fact that there's smears of blood on his clothes don't help matters. Though the vast majority of whatever gruesome scene he's found is left out of the frame, likely on purpose, there's a body laying nearby, bloodied, shredded clothes draped haphazardly across what is barely recognizable as anything previously alive. It's as if he pulled her there to check if she was still alive and then things just started to...fall apart.

He's no stranger to death, but this is particularly brutal, made worse by the fact that he considered her a friend.

A chalkboard lays nearby, and though something is written on it, from this angle it's nearly impossible to read.]

It's Seraphim.

[The words choke in his throat a bit. He didn't know her well, but they'd talked, and he knew people who were close to her.]

I'm not sure exactly how long she's been like this but...I think this happened before we woke up. During the jump.

[Though not in any advanced states of decay, the blood is still long dry. He swallows, his throat rough as he reaches for the chalkboard, lifting it up so that it fills the scream.]

She left us a message.

[It reads, "It's out there and it wants us alone, we can't be alone."]
28 March 2015 @ 12:11 am
[ Hey, Tranquility! It's your resident busybody who has no authority or jurisdiction, and no justifiable reason to be taking point on this one, here to kindly inform you he's decided to try and take point on this one. He appears solemnly, wearing that well-perfected dangerous hunter face. How scary. Such intimidating. ]

I'm gonna make this quick and to the point.

[ He declares, voice barking out frank orders like a damn drill sergeant or something. ]

Those people on board- those are people. Not some... evil... dictatorship, not a bunch of spies from the goddamn dark world, not soul-sucking ringwraiths here to steal your jumpsuits. They're just people, and they need a rescue, not a lynch mob.

[ Have a firm and pointed look, because he knows some of you are planning on shooting first and asking questions later. Screw that. ]

I'm going. Anyone who wants to come along and help, I'm leaving in an hour. And before you sign up just to turn around and put a bullet in them as soon as we get there, I want to make one thing clear.

[ And let the cold, dark look in his eye carry just how serious he is about this: ]

You try anything stupid, I'll knock your ass out myself and leave you in the hallways for whatever's hungry.

[ end transmission. ]

( after 1 IC hour (so a few tags) Dean will abruptly stop replying and will be focusing on surviving the hallways. anyone is more than welcome to tag along to his big ole rescue group of friendship and mistake-making! )
13 March 2015 @ 11:26 pm
[the feed opens on a shot of a half empty bottle of tranquility brand ~space whiskey. along with another empty bottle lying on its side beside it. to anyone familiar with the bars on the ship, it may be possible to recognize the fact that the feed is coming from the wrong side of the bar. that inside of being sat beside it, he's instead stood on the inside of the counter. (easier access to the alcohol. and considering there's no bartender, it made more sense to him. it did take an entire liquor store last time).]


[…okay, whoops. there's a pause; time spent squinting down at the device. he's making a call to the network, so maybe it'd be a good idea if he laid off the "dead" languages. when he speaks again, there's a weight to his words that comes largely from having to focus so hard on what he's saying. on making sure that he's actually using the words he wants to use.]

There are games I have seen humans play before. Ones that involve drinking copious amounts of alcohol for amusement.

[there's another pause then. one that's only interrupted with the sound of a drink being poured in to a glass. far more than a single shot. it's gone moments later; swallowed easily, and with very little impact on his current state.]

Show me.

[what are manners? look, he has other priorities right now.]
28 February 2015 @ 08:45 pm
Raven Reyes reporting from Engineering.

re: THE HALLWAY ODDITIES - Nothing new to report since Fitz's update, and in this case no news is good news. Looks like we're just getting a little more space, lights and vital systems booting up a few yards farther out each day. When the other shoe drops, we'll be the first to know and we'll make sure you're the second.

re: SUITS & SHUTTLES 101 - I'm still ready and willing to dish out lessons on how to use the suits and shuttles down in the Bay, in case (worst case scenario) part of the ship loses pressure or needs to evacuate. Better safe than sorry, etc. Just let me know. As for gunnery, that's all Jax.

re: ENGINEERING - We're a little more comfortable with the recruits we pulled in just before the last jump, but I'm looking to sign on a few more so my engineers can get more than six hours of sleep between shifts.
      building shit
      scrapping shit for parts
      digging through scrap like it's treasure
      sitting on your ass while someone else gets a work-out
      getting a work-out while someone else sits on their ass
      keeping people alive
      inflating your ego

If any of the above listed things interest you and you're not already in a department, consider throwing your lot in with Engineering. We've even got a mascot.

Which reminds me.

re: THE TICKLISH CUBE OF FLESH - Couple of months ago, I got an unnerving flesh cube in my locker. Some of you have asked about it since. Yeah, I've still got it. It's Engineering's resident freak of nature. Sits at my desk whenever I'm on the monitors.

That's it.

[ now for the real reason this post is a thing: all current members of engineering and/or individuals who might want to be a member of engineering should definitely take a look at this page. it has information on the department from a technical standpoint and a daily-life standpoint, plus there's a little thing at the bottom to fill out so we can all handwave like motherfuckers.

EDIT: I'm so sorry for the unanimous wait re: tagbacks on this, I got two group presentations sprung on me this week ahaha weeps.
10 December 2014 @ 08:01 am
[Dean's been around a while now, long enough to get settled in and learn how to work the stove, so he figures it's about the right time to give the Tranquility a formal greeting. Video feed opens up to Dean clearly trying to keep himself in frame, chin ducking once he's sure everything's set up and running.]

For anyone I haven't met yet, which... I'm sure is probably most of you, my name's Dean Winchester.

[It sounds a little rehearsed. He's run it through his head a few times, and it drags on a little as the words spill out.]

I'm, uh... well, apparently I'm not exactly new here, but for all intents and purposes, let's just go with that. If I knew you any more than, say, a month ago, I hate to break it to you, but all that's pretty much gone now. Blank slate. Sorry.

[He doesn't seem all that perturbed by it, but he's been through it too often to really put a lot of heart in the sentiment. He does offer up a tight sort of grimace in apology, but a second later he plows on. His eyes duck down for a second, and then they're back on the camera.]

I've got a couple of questions for anyone who thinks they can answer them. First of all- has anyone ever been anywhere before this? I'm not talking about back home on Earth, or... wherever it is you're from originally. I mean, has anyone ever been bounced to another dimension, or universe, or... something like this ship, but different? Possibly 80% less Star Trek?

[There's a sort of awkward pause there, and it looks like he wants to extrapolate on that. His lips twitch, and then he shakes his head, evidently changing his mind.]

Second off, does anyone know anything about tech crap? See, I got this...

[The camera jiggles a little as his head ducks, he searches through his pockets to find another phone. It isn't a ship-designated communicator, but it looks similar. He holds it up irreverently, flipping it back and forth to display it.]

This other thing, but it's... [He gives it a floppy shake] dead as a doornail, and I can't exactly pick up a charger from the nearest Apple store, so. If anyone has any ideas on how to give it some juice, I'd appreciate it. I'd like to get some crap off of it.

[It's shoved absently back into his jacket pocket.]

Oh, and uh- one last thing. Any word on why some people aren't popping out of the space womb tube things? Is there an ETA on that, or is it step one to getting shipped back home? What's the deal with that?

[It's asked with a sort of consternated, displeased expression. Obviously his phone isn't going to answer him, so after a weird second, he shrugs it off. Scratches awkwardly at his cheek.]

That's pretty much it. Anything you got for me would just be... awesome. Over and out.

[The camera gets a lovely second of vertigo wherein he shifts the view from his face to his boots before he can finally cut the feed.]
03 December 2014 @ 05:36 pm
[ For all that Emma tries not to brood, she missed space Christmas and news of Pan's curse has her feeling particularly sentimental. Reflective, even. And the prospect of losing her memories, losing her loved ones, only serves to remind her that sooner or later, they're all trying, in some capacity, to lose the people they've grown to care about aboard the Tranquility. ]

A friend of mine pointed out a while back that not everyone has a home to go back to at this point. Or one worse than what's here, whether that means they're dead or just some other kind of screwed.

[ Strangely, with Dean back now, she has to wonder if he'd say the same again. That staying on the ship, even as it is now, is better than the alternative for some. Getting a read on him is tougher now. It feels like she's missing pieces. ]

What about you? What's your best case scenario for whenever we figure out what the hell's going on here? Do you go home, forget all about it? Backtrack to Arima and set up shop?
19 November 2014 @ 12:11 pm
[he's in the middle of the upper floor of the gardens when he finally decides to contact the network; the area chosen because it's one of the few places he can find solace in. can find time to get his head back in order again and think of his next step.

(too many people are affected. too many people are being hurt.

he almost killed--)

the feed opens on a somewhat disheveled looking castiel, his expression deadly serious as he addresses whoever is listening.]

As I am sure you're all aware, there is a...situation currently taking place aboard this ship. Those of you who have not done so already would to well to keep yourselves locked away from the affected at this time. If you require assistance, speak with Sergeant Brad Colbert. To those injured, the medical facilities are still open.

[a pause, and that certainty wanes a little. he has a proposition, but--]

There may be a way to stop this.

[emphasis on the may.]

The affected individuals are in a state similar to sleep, but not quite. They are...dreaming, in a way. There are three of us here who are capable of entering the dreams of others. However, while I was able to enter one such dream, I was unable to affect anything that was occurring within it.

I...don't know if it is due to what is happening to them or not.

[or if it's simply because he isn't strong enough. not with his grace draining by the day.]

If anybody has any suggestions, please, state them now.

[and then that's it. or at least as far as the ship-wide transmission. too bad be doesn't actually know his brothers' numbers to lock something to them. so after a moment of hesitation--]

Gabriel. [and a tightening of his jaw as he adds--] Lucifer.

I-- Your assistance would be beneficial.
12 March 2014 @ 03:35 pm
[ The comms device is on for a few moments, the picture bouncing around one of the rooms like a merry go round, before it finally it settles on a messy long-haired young man. His eyes squinting at the device for a few moments. Not in confusion, more in annoyance. The camera shifts again as he lowers the camera enough to rest on surface before he’s leaning forward.]

First of all. Fuck this place. And fuck whatever bought us here.

Because while wondering around in space sounds like a fun idea. It’s less appealing in practice.

[ His voice is slow and careful, there’s almost held back humour at the whole situation. Because of course this would fucking happen to him. There’s a lull in conversation there, as if he expects someone to answer him. With no answer he continues.]

Fine. Does anyone have a beer at least? Because this shit isn't exactly the easiest to swallow.

Out of curiosity, if someone were to have a certain...affliction. Does anyone have any idea what this fun little ship would do to it?
11 March 2014 @ 05:35 pm
[She'd kind of hoped the rifle would show back up in her locker after the jump, but that's apparently more optimism than the good ol' TQ merits. So:]

someone took something from me when i was in engineering
u know who u r
give me my shit back
10 February 2014 @ 07:52 pm
[Sam lasted approximately 3.8 days resting in a bed after getting sort of kind of stabbed in the back (well, at home, then it sort of... followed him here). He's mostly healed thanks to the powers that be and Castiel, but he's still slow on his feet, all sore and stitched up and sort of exhausted from losing most of the blood in his body (or whatever Dean would claim he lost; he thinks it's not that bad anymore, so whatever). He sort of rests himself in the garden with his network comm, wincing a little to get comfortable against some old gnarled tree trunk.

He wants to get his mind off home. Dad's dead — dead dead, not coming back, no hope of fixing that — and he's got demon blood pumping inside his veins, and Ava and Andy and so many other kids are dead by now... And Sam is pretty sure he's dying back home, regardless of how his conversation with his brother goes. Basically, life sucks, it's a shitfest, and we're all gonna die eventually. But hey, he tries to keep the topic light and his faith a little high.]

Well, everyone from the bridge — I'm glad you're all okay. That was a terrible idea, but. I'm glad anyway. [And he is. His voice is light when he says that.] We'd rather want you guys all alive and kicking, y'know, even if I get why you guys took that risk. I mean, where I'm from? That sort of thing is something I deal with a lot, so... I'm not about to wag any fingers. But did anything in particular happen in there that would be good to note for the future? I know everyone just about tore their own arms off trying to get the doors to open from the outside; how was the inside, though? Any sort of visions, ill omens? Possibly changes in the setting that might imply something spiritual or omnipresent there with you? There were a few distorted voice and video posts, and I'm sure it's been brought up, but humor me.

[It's important to note these kinds of things.]

The ship seems to be warping itself a lot lately, so I figured best to ask. Like — the numbers. I don't know the implication or importance of them, but I know some of you've been talking about them... and the masks are a new thing for me, technically. I wasn't around for that, so I guess there's none to worry about for the newer arrivals, but I've heard it wasn't exactly rainbows and candy canes, though.

The mirrors were freaking out the last time I checked, the previous jump; on the bright side, I'm 100% sure that it's not Bloody Mary. Already had a hell of a time dealing with that particular ghost. [but we did it cuz winchesters. savin ppl. hunting thangs. family bidness. He shrugs. Where was he going with this before he got distracted by old cases? He must be getting too used to this place if he's okay with chatting about them to begin with. Then again, nothing wrong with admitting you deal with vengeful spirits on occasion in a place full of supernatural issues. It's when you admit you kill vamps and werewolves on a ship full of them that's a problem.... Anyway...] I don't know. It just seems like little things are building up. We're getting more information, sometimes literally through someone else's point of view in memories - but I get the feeling it's not gonna continue on like this without something big happening.

[For anyone interested in Offline. threads, Sam will be resting in the gardens; he's been sleeping a little more until he feels more up to speed, or will otherwise be combing his father's journal and some of the books he'd received from home to see if there's anything on 'haunted mirrors'. Just because they dealt with Bloody Mary doesn't mean this is the same kind of application of lore. He'll probably just end up nodding off here for a while until he's energized enough to drag himself back to his room. Maaaaybe he should be resting there. Whatever, hunter thug, don't need no sleep.

Library it is. Maybe he can find an e-book with anyyyy information on numbers and the importance of numbers in cultures from this universe. Chances are he'll find squat he can apply to the numbers on the walls, but it's better than having to sit still for a full week or something. And then maybe go to the med bay and make sure his nasty little row of sutures are doing okay. Hygiene is important mkay. Though he might be hobbling along like an old man until his back feels better. What a loser.]

14 January 2014 @ 07:22 pm
[ hey, tq, it's dean. he's looking... well, a little more restless than normal, and mostly because now that it's been some time after the jump, he's finally accepted that yet another friend has left the ride. he rubs the knuckles of one hand anxiously before looking at the communicator. ]

Any of you ever had a friend or two in this ship who you know ain't around back home anymore? Sucks when they go back, doesn't it. Especially when home isn't just a box six feet underground, but... [ but purgatory, where you personally put them.

it hurts. it sucks. ]

But something a lot more dangerous. Guess we should learn by now to hold on to 'em as hard as we can while we still have 'em, instead of...this. [ as sincere as he is, he can't quite help the strained smirk, like it really is all some big joke. ]

But since I can't do that, I'll ask for the second best thing; anyone feel like doin' a little sparring? And I mean the off the record kind, no punches pulled stuff. You know, fun. [ it's something he's good at, something he could just lose himself in for a little while, so it's worth a shot. ]

Those easily bruised and ready for tears-- or too busy whining about the temperature need not apply. And if you ain't sure, we can even throw a bet of some kind on the winner-- whatever works. Even you freaky supernatural critters are welcome.
09 December 2013 @ 02:37 pm
[ arya stark. staring at a panel on one of the floors of the massive engineering complex with a direwolf and a droid for company. ]

We need people to work engineering.
It is the part that keeps the ship running and all of us alive.
So it is really important.
[ just in case that part wasn't abundantly clear. ]
Everyone who wants to help ought talk to me or Carolyn 008 » 022.
Give us your name and experience and we will assign you a task from there.

[ next to her, r2 beeps sadly. she cannot even pretend to smile. she takes a breath and adds one last question. ]

The last time this happened how many of the ones sleeping were gone at the next jump?

mairon )

fili )

gendry )
21 November 2013 @ 09:00 pm
Saw another memory. 

[Sam's voice is solemn, befitting the situation, but he hardly sounds thrown off by all this; he's unbearably used to visions by now anyway. This? This is similar enough. The added weight of feelings and thoughts make it heavier, and it's in the past instead of the near future, but it's still close enough.]

A woman someone called Biswas let a bunch of people out — experiments...? Test subjects used to try and... I guess mess with their DNA, make them better suited for to colonization. They all had numbers; she'd listen to them when she worked, sometimes, when they'd scream or cry for help. [He runs a hand over his face, exhausted suddenly by the thought.] She let them out, and 'Stephen' killed her. At least, I think he did; there was a gunshot, but...

[That's kind of where it ended.

His voice softens a bit, something cold sitting in the pit of his stomach.]

Anyone know anything about these people?

Worse off, do you think the numbers they had are like the numbers we had?

Are we — 

[He stops himself, frowning. Eventually, he just shakes his head.]

... I need to go for a walk. Keep me updated if you guys find anything interesting. I'll tell you what I can about what I saw in detail, if I can.

[And that's exactly what he does. Keeping an eye on the comms, of course, but also visiting the usual places: drink at the bar, resting with something to read in the gardens. Usually he likes the solitude — or maybe is just too screwy in the head right now to want company — but after seeing things like this... hard to want to be alone. He goes to the bar, to the library. He even combs over said library again, in vain. Like there'd be something new there.

Something about all this makes him too uneasy. Like something's going to happen. Not just the usual 'happen', either. 

He plops down and reads in the garden. Reads a downloaded, crappy story that was clearly half-assedly based on earth. Something about it being taken over and humanity being enslaved, or something. Very H.G. Wells, but with absolutely no accurate readings of earth, like an alien race guessed what the place was like. Funny how none of this makes him feel too much better.]

((OOC: omg ignore my delete i'm an idiot; also action brackets are okay with this post, if you're interested. I was gonna post a log, but this'll do :|b))
11 November 2013 @ 12:57 pm
[Alex knows this post is a shot in the dark. Stupid, even, but he was tired of having things in his head that didn't belong to him.

Especially when they read as things that were supposed to warn them, of things, but gave no real solid knowledge.

The burning of the genetics lab.

The dreams of the elves.

The dream of the prisoner, and his own--of a girl fighting back against someone who was familiar and yet not, who had eaten the other crewmembers.

And the message that Carolyn had shown him.

Maybe he was paranoid; maybe he was stupid.

But this was either just an echo of the past, or a warning that history was going to repeat itself.

From who--who the fuck knew.]

Uh--Ward, you care to pipe up here?

You can't tell me that you don't know anything about this. Or that you aren't listening to what is going on, and don't have an opinion on it.

[There is a pause, and then--well.

Might as well just be an idiot.]

You too, Smiley.

Did you help the other crew too, occasionally, then unleash this on them? Is this your last little game? How many crews were there before us?

I mean you've saved us, before. Why keep so damn quiet, now?

Just saying, if there is some sort of countdown clock to insane cannibal doppelgangers, I'd like to know what time it's showing.
11 November 2013 @ 12:10 pm
[Murphy isn't completely nonobservant. He's seen the network posts and he has a feeling that this Matine he just saw isn't a current -- living -- passenger on this ship. Which is why he makes sure to jot down the memory the best he can before he clicks the network on.]

"For those of you who weren't there, a few months back our communicators went haywire. Some kinda lockdown alert from the previous captain, Gallagher. I wrote down a transcript of the message in case it ever came into play later. He talked 'bout imposters on the ship.

"Now I think I know what he meant. I've seen it, Matine and Schue..."

[Christ, that face is still burned into his brain.]

"Dunno what the cause of it is, but I have a few ideas. One is that it could've been some kind of Invasion of the Body Snatchers that infected some of the previous crew. That would be the obvious choice.

"The other... This is a long shot, but how safe do we know the stasis pods are? How the jumps themselves might be changin' us, for that matter...? So far we've had mass sickness, hallucinations, and comas -- and now this... whatever the hell this is that's gettin' in our heads?

"Or maybe it's all of the above, includin' the Body Snatchers. Hate to sound paranoid, but maybe somebody's tryin' to warn us."

[About what, he's not sure yet. History trying to repeat itself, maybe -- and that's what bothers him the most.]
11 November 2013 @ 03:00 pm
[His typical spiel is quite cursory.]

My name is Miles Edgeworth. I'm a member of the security team. All new arrivals, please do not hesitate to contact me if you have either questions regarding security or a desire to volunteer; we are always looking for new recruits. Similarly, if you run into any troubles or find yourself in distress of any sort, kindly inform us.

[And, moving onto the meat of this post:]

While I am not normally one to give any sort of credence to claims of psychic phenomena and the like without significant proof of the same, the past month quite definitively proved that some degree of...mental connection is possible on-board this ship. And given the proliferation of reports of experiencing flashes of memory from an unknown source in the past day, it seems that another sort of mental connection may well have been established. Moreover, it sounds as though several people have perhaps seen different things.

Here is my request for you all. Please use this broadcast to compare and contrast what you did see. Anyone who seems to have experienced memories of the same individuals, speak forth on the matter. If we spread information as widely as possible, the likelihood of our defeating whatever threat or development that might be looming on the horizon is considerably heightened.

I shall begin. The situation I saw in this memory occurred, apparently, after Captain Gallagher went mad, as we have seen attested in data recovered in the past. The man whose memory I received was lost in the depths of the ship. He encountered a woman named Matine, an individual he trusted; he found her in a state of madness herself. The memory concluded with her murdering him.

[A slight, grim pause.]

Please contribute what you witnessed.
[The feed cuts on to reveal a smiling redhead who looks a wee bit too happy given the situation.]

So I gotta say, for a bunch of folks who've been kidnapped and are stuck on a creepy alien spaceship [her grin grows a little here here because seriously this is too freaking cool and why do the rest of you not see this?!?] you all are pretty organized. At first when I showed up I figured I'd probably spend the rest of, well, ever trying to figure out where I was and what was going on…

[A pause and she bites at her lower lip before looking a touch sheepish.]

Actually, that's not entirely true. First I figured that the Winchesters were somehow responsible because, well, Winchesters... and come on, let's face it. Hanging with those guys is like playing a really creepy game of Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon. With monsters. And likely death. [The obviously fake smile is back.] But then I did a little digging and what do you know? Handy-dandy 411 posts, at your service! [A beat, as she draws a breath. She's still grinning brightly.] Really, you all, super impressed here. Still kinda freaked out, pretty concerned my life's reached a point where all of this doesn't make me question my sanity and... Oh! I'm Charlie, bee tee dubs. Charlie Bradbury. For the record. Looking forward to chatting with you all!

[The video feed cuts off then immediately flickers back on. This time, the feed is locked like whoa to Dean and Sam Winchester. Charlie's bright, perky, totally fake smile has been replaced with an authentic grin and the slight arching of an eyebrow. She gives a little wave.]

Miss me, bitches?
07 September 2013 @ 08:50 pm
[Sam's had a lot of time to think about too many things, and maybe that's just his problem — he thinks too much. He thinks too much and feels too much, and he swears John and Dean have both gave him this criticism before. But now, surrounded by so many supernatural people, and then learning maybe something goes wrong in the future — something about him goes south and he turns into something awful... Dean's conversations so far haven't helped ease Sam's mind. Even the slightest. Maybe it's why Dean's been so adamant about putting the future behind them (hah). Maybe it's why he's better off not knowing. Because he'll end up a blood-sucking freak. Because he'll end up a monster.

That's preposterous. Crazy. A monster? But it's so easy to believe. Why would it be so easy to believe? Maybe it's the line of work; people turn into creatures every day. Maybe it's because deep down, in the darkest places in the pit of his veins, he feels like something echoes back when he thinks too long about it. Something ugly and corrupted.

Now that Sam's talked enough about it, he feels like his thoughts are gonna' eat him up.

So he goes anonymous and heads to the network, to escape his own voice thinking back at him, keeping him company.]

I guess a lot of people here turn into things they don't want to be... don't they? I mean, I don't know a lot of anything that wants to be what they are. What would you guys do, if you knew you might be something someday that's — y'know. Dangerous? Unsafe? Something that will hurt people, sooner or later? Something you think maybe you can feel deep down, felt it for as long as you can remember, even if you couldn't really pinpoint why.

What would you do? Knowing you couldn't stop it? How would you fight against something like that...? Or I guess what have you done, for some of you. What have you done to fight that? Being something different than what you used to be?

You think it's possible to really fight against what you are on the inside, what you'll be?

I don't know. It's a lot to think about, I guess. And with how this ship is, maybe unfair to ask about. Sorry if it's a crappy thing to drag up, I just had it hanging on my mind for a while now.

[He feels weird, addressing what will likely be mostly things he would have hunted back home.

... Ha.

How fucking weird is that. How sad is that? Guess he might really end up joining the ranks, if all the clues he's gotten point to that. Maybe he'll ask Castiel more about it after the jump; he knows a lot, right? He knows the future. Angels wouldn't lie to him, would they?]

[[OOC: Apologies for the pre-dating! Canonmate plotting makes this better to post pre-jump than post-jump, aha.]]