14th Wave

[tentacruelest]

[Spam]

[This week on the Barge, an older, somewhat new face is lurking about, obsessively checking a fob watch chained to his pocket and walking awkwardly through the halls. Those who were here in October during the mirror Barge may recognize the man as a disguised Davy Jones, struggling to grow comfortable in his human skin. He still limps carefully, but seems to be enjoying his relative anonymity]


[Private to Sylvanas; Voice]

D'yeh have a moment to spare for an old sailor, m'lady?

Comments

[Private Voice]

[forsaken_queen]

[Well this is a bit of a surprise. They haven't spoken in weeks. She'd been alright with that, because it meant she didn't have to work at pushing him away. Now here he was again. ]

All I have is time, Captain.

[ Spam ]

[surfaceshine]

[Dean is on a step ladder in a level three hallway, working on a light fixture. He's used to people moving around him and most of them don't bother him when he's actively working, though sometimes some will stop to help, so he doesn't immediately look away from his hands, lest the legitimate wiring he's trying to piece back together turns to silly string while his attention is elsewhere.

Then the pliers in his hand slip, rapping his knuckles smartly on the edge, and he swears and steps abruptly down to shake his hand out. When he glances up, he freezes.

It's rare to actually see real fear in Dean Winchester, but it's there now, flashing across his features and settling behind his eyes. It's not for Davy. He recognizes the man immediately, and it claws at the memories and the trauma he has spent months bricking back up and learning to carry with him. But a swift glance around, a surreptitious check of his communicator, shows that they're not back there. No one else is changed. He breathes out and tries to ignore his raised pulse, but doesn't quite get around to smiling or grinning by the time he actually speaks.]

Jones?

[ichoosefight]

[ Steph is lost in thought while she wanders through the halls. She's got a lot to think about, and the level of focus she's giving it means she only notices the man in the back of her mind and doesn't see him well enough to avoid bumping his shoulder when she passes him. The contact brings her back to the present and she blinks at him. ]

Oh, sorry.