fridgetothefire | 060 ☣ when we were gone astray

[Filtered Away from Dean]

...so, I seem to have gotten a few presents I distinctly remember sending to someone else. Anybody else have return-to-sender troubles?

[Because if Dean did what she suspects he did, she's not the only one.]

The real question is, do we gather all his presents together and bring them to his door at once in an enthusiastically festive parade, or do we all go one at a time so he doesn't go more than an hour or two without visitors bearing gifts for the next few days?

[Spam, for Dean]

[The barge being busy and disorganized as it is, I assume everyone will settle on option two.]

Knock, knock.

[Performed and then also spoken. At least she isn't caroling. Yet.]

[Gift List]

Ben - a music box kit, so that he can make them inscribed with any melodies he wants, a book of australian folklore, Unfinished Puzzle, and some of those long distance touch and response bracelets. But magic, please, soft leather, durable, with no distance limit or batteries.

Dean - LED lights set in a few of those small crystal rosette formations from Ville de Rachat, warm and full spectrum. Windowboxes for that sill above his sink, with herbs growing in them. An aloe plant, definitely, and a young little Kilcarnock willow. Things more useful for healing than ritual magic, although if there are any herbs he particularly wants for cooking that overlap, go ahead and include them too. A little watering can with good fortune charms on it. And one of those constant little personal fountains.

[A reminder of a time he got everyone out alive; living things; peaceful things.]

Cassel - some of those ridiculously elaborate outfits he had in the Emperor's world, and a very cheesy #1 Brother coffee mug with a picture of the two of us falling on each other drunk. Matching Erik's #1 Dad mug for font and general design.

Stephen - some Cambrian plushies that tell nerdy jokes when you squeeze them.

Zane - a book of children's tales from his world as it is now, or as it will become. One with Steelheart in it, if you can. And some treats for his bunnies.

Riddick - a plant he discovered during his survey days, or one he just particularly liked. Both, if you can.

Cass - a complete Mystery Baking Companion outfit in her size, please. the decorations on the hat should be in either purple or yellow. A snowglobe that shows her playing with friends in the snow, past present or future, with different scenes when she shakes it.

Morgana - sweets from her own time - honeycakes, maybe? A full set of the Oz books. A sound system, with some modern music and some vocals from the druid traditions of her world.

Jean - a big old fashioned orrery, and a pocket version.

Scott - Muzzy tapes for learning French, Tooth and Nail, a zombie doll to match the one he gave me last year, that resembles him, and the Wolves of Yellowstone documentary.

Touko - the complete works of Ursula Heigl, and a small punching bag with Junko's face on one side.

Peter - a possum plushie.

Steve - A Change of Scenery

Mason - some music he misses, or recordings of concerts he remembers with happiness. Bunny treats as well.

Iris - everyone gives lots of pictures this time of year. Give her a seriously bedazzled hologram locket that can hold them all, just like her hearts can. And throw in a few pictures of friends she hasn't met yet. Also, On the Upswing.

Horatio - charts and maps for seas he's never seen. Topographical maps of the ocean floors from Earth seas that he has. Alpine Navigation.

Clementine - The Devil's Dictionary, by Ambrose Bierce

Andrew - Gossip Girl DVDs

Cambridge - a morbid cookie jar

T'Pol - a beginner's knitting kit

Abigail - Light Flurries

Arthas - a big ridiculous amp to match his guitar. Avalanche of Horses.

Bush - a good toolkit, water, salt, and corrosion resistant. In Search of Sea.

Sylvanas - more futuristic armor

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[There is a moment after she answers, when she smiles, in which Dean feels everything that makes him a good, dangerous, sound hunter turns and expands like heat contained in a vessel too small; it pushes at his skin from the inside, makes him ache to act, to close the door and get her, somehow, into a devil's trap that will hold her, to move right now, right NOW.

But then it is past, the only outward sign the absolute stillness of his frame, the hard, cold light of his eyes narrowed intently on her; then it is past and he shakes himself out, tucks the new knowledge safely away where he won't forget it, where he can think about it and research it and prepare.

Clementine has her devil to overcome. So, too, now does Dean, if no one else on this Barge will cross her; if no one else would look twice at a gruesome display that clearly marks her as belonging to a ship they all claim to hate. The hunter licks his lips, and moves back to sit on the edge of his bed, heavy but within reach of what little stockpile remains to him - most of it from her, which means it's not likely to be effective at all.

It's a place to start.] Lucky you.

Lucky, lucky you, I guess. Doesn't mean I'm leaving those fucking things up.

[She's not sure what changed; she knows, with a prickle of soft instinct, that something has, but she can't put her finger on it, because he's always blunt and stubborn and resigned, but -]

Lucky me.

Doesn't mean you have any real reason not to. Unlike you, I didn't pick my gifts trying to hurt you.

[There's no bitterness; no anger or even surprise. It's something he tried, and it turned out intimate and strange. But facts are facts.]

It's houseplants, Dean. Useful ones. Just water them a little.

What can I say. Once an asshole, always an asshole.

[It was something he tried very deliberately, and some people still can't wrap their heads around it, he's seen. They scold him and tell him it's rude like he doesn't know, like that's not exactly why he did it. Anya, at least, is acknowledging that he isn't an idiot.

It would gain her some ground with him, except. Except.]

What if I'm allergic to chlorophyll?

Break a leaf off the aloe, the raw stuff is good for rashes as well as burns.

[Blithely pragmatic, as though it weren't an entirely ridiculous conjecture.]

Well thank God, 'cause I'm fresh outta benadryl and the sun out here is ridiculous.

[He drawls this, drags it right over the bitter edge in his voice because thank God for nothing. Thank God for all the useless loopholes that don't mean anything in the end and thank God for being too busy to care. There's no energy in the sarcasm, a grudge by rote, recently renewed but old, tried, true.

He frowns past her, brow a little more furrowed than its standard setting these days, actually looking at what she's doing for the first time since she's come in.]

What are those, anyway?

Edited 2015-01-09 07:49 (UTC)

Lights.

[She flicks the first one on; the light is bright and yellow and warm, diffused by the translucence of the stone, highlighting its formations and striations.]

Spectrum's good for the plants and for you.

[Dean glances at it, but what's left of his natural curiosity has been securely boarded up; his heart was always made up of incredibly thick-walled chambers, but now there are more compartments than ever. He has more need of the kind of safeguards that allow one section to be flooded and another to remain dry than ever. He has more need not to sink and a harder time staying above water.

He points up instead, at the single bare bulb in its practical metal shade and wire grate.]

I got lights.

And now you've got more lights. Better lights!

[You're such a fuss, Dean. There's the others settled.]

Where do you want your fountain?

I liked my environmentally conscious amount of lights I had before.

[Dry, dry, dry; not actually an argument at this point, not the least because if he really wants to be rid of them, it's much less energy just to pull them back out and toss them overboard himself later.

And not just those.] What, now you care where I want it?

Wherever. Whatever.

I was willing to consider it.

[She finds a corner where it won't be in the way and switches it on, a quiet mundane burbling.]

060 ☣ when we were gone astray

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