castleinthemist | (no subject)

[Dean had spent the majority of the morning exploring alone. It wasn't really the brightest idea, but when he'd woken up that morning he hadn't really cared. He and Sam had been in close proximity for too long, without the breaks to the sleazy bars or one night stands or even splitting up on cases to give them a break from one another. Throw in the building tension between them as Dean's death clock ticked down and even being in the same room was beginning to get unbearable.

So he'd started out early and hadn't come back until his stomach was grumbling at him for ignoring it for so long. He'd managed to update the rough map he and Sam had been working on and now he was sitting in the common area staring at the gruel in his hands and trying his best to pretend it was a bacon cheeseburger.

It'd been almost a month since they'd been there. A month of no fried foods, no cable, no car, no sex, no way out. His time was ticking down and here he was in some freaking castle wasting it. He puts the bowl down and shakes his head before rubbing it roughly with his hands.] This place freakin' sucks.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Returning from her own fruitless explorations - nothing but empty corridors and doors that defied all the unlocking charms she could throw at them - Narcissa wrinkles her nose at the sight of the tasteless muck that passed for food, here.]

An apt observation. Sugar might help with part of it.

[Dean looks up and his eyebrows raise the tiniest bit. He gives her a small smile and nods.] Yeah, I'm full of apt observations. [He looks at her hopefully.] You wouldn't happen to have any, would you?

I do... but not in a format you're familiar with, I'm sure.

[And it's neither free, nor unlimited. How badly do you want that slop sweetened, stranger?]

[He furrows his brow,not entirely sure he knows what she's talking about.] What kind of format is it in?

[She reaches inside her cloak to a small pocket, and draws out a single sugar quill - which, as the name suggests, resembles a quill for writing that so happens to be made of sugar, and not the flight feathers of a bird.]

A sweet. Most people don't know of it, they're peculiar to the area I grew up in.

He had gone nearly two weeks without a single person trying to tear him apart molecule by molecule. Danny was pretty sure that was a record. After he'd gotten over the whole kidnapped and trapped in a creepy abandoned castle thing the whole situation had turned about to be almost like a vacation. No ghosts to fight. No ghost-hunters to fail at reasoning with. No fruitloop constantly scheming up new ways to complicate his life. If it hadn't been for the horrible food and his constant worry about what was happening in Amity Park without him to protect it Danny thought that he might have been able to even relax.

He looks up from his own bowl of gruel at the sound of the complaint. "The food definitely does."

"You can say that again," Dean says, picking up the bowl and sloshing it around while looking disgusted. They'd served him and Sam better stuff in their brief stint in prison. Not that this guy needed to know about that.

He sighs. "I know we're all from different times and all that, but what the hell is this stuff? Is it what they thought would be least offensive to everyone or the most?" He looks up at the other guy. "Cause I'm offended."

"And here I thought nothing could get worse than cafeteria food. Even the Lunch Lady would be offended."

Danny offers the older man a half grin. "I'm Danny Fenton, by the way."

"Dean Winchester," Dean says giving him a friendly smile in return. He turns his attention back to his food and forces himself to take a bite, making a face as he swallows.

Okay, so he's being a little immature about this, but come on. He turns his attention back to Danny. "So where you from?"

"Amity Park. What about you?"

Danny makes a face at the taste, but continues forcing it down. At least it wasn't trying to eat him back.

[Cordelia had mostly been busy in the courtyard - although the results of her work there hadn't been as satisfying as she had wanted. Somewhat exhausted, the young woman finally returned to the commons, taking a seat to eat something and rest for a bit. She had noticed the young man nearby, but had been focused on eating (something that looked like purple strawberries) - that is, until he spoke. After finishing her strawberry, she agreed to him, although she wouldn't use his wording.]

It really is a hassle, I must admit. It does not even have a proper bath.

[Dean hadn't really expected to be overheard, so he looks up and is surprised to see her there. Her choice of wording makes his lip quirk upwards the tiniest bit.] Hassle doesn't even begin to cover it.

[He nods.] It is pretty rank up in here. Not, you of course but.. This many people and no baths? It's going to get ugly.

[Cordelia smiled slightly at the comment on rankyness. Sadly, she didn't really spot that he was smirking ever so slightly because of her speech - she didn't knew any better, sadly.]

Well, I suppose I shall hope that, while exploring this place, someone manages to find a bathroom. It seems about as worthy a find as a place with less stale food.

[She noticed she was coming across as somewhat vain, and it was true, she had been used to a certain kind of luxury that simply was not available here. On the other hand, she had spent quite a while without that before coming here, so she at least realized that those were luxuries.]

I partially kid, of course, but it would surely be a nice discovery.

Surely. [Dean smiled a little bit at her formal language. Momentarily distracted from his lunch by her.] I'm Dean, by the way.

Where are you from?

I'm Cordelia. Deli-...Pleased to meet you.

[She gave a slightly strained smile. People really talked differently here than what she was used to, that's for sure.]

I'm from a kingdom called Selenn, but not a single soul I have met has even heard of it. It's a nice country, all things considered. ~~When one wasn't hunted to death.~~
Lush forests, castles here and there...but it's apparently very different from the countries everyone else is from.

How about you, where are you from, if I might ask?

A little swoon at the sight of that pasty white substance they had to eat. He saunters over and falls into a seat two away from Dean, pushing away the bowl with his knuckles and laying his head in his arm, one hand coming up to scratch at the nape of his neck.

"Enough with the gruel." He complains muffled in his arms.