voyagers | [party post] come sail away with me

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[party post] come sail away with me

You've come through a door, and you are on a boat. Specifically, you're on a cruise ship in the middle of some giant body of water. You've come through the door behind you which is attached to nothing and may now be locked. It's relatively empty as giant as it appears to be. The only other passengers that are here appear to also have come through the door for the most part and it is not nearly enough to fill up this entire cruise ship.

Also, who knows who the hell is driving this thing since all of the employees appear to be either ghosts or holograms...

Is this your first time here or your hundredth time here? Do you want a drink or a dip in the pool? Is it day or night? Do you stumble on your room or some other situation either fun or painful within its many rooms, shops, and facilities? Do you run into someone you know or a complete stranger?

The possibilities are unlimited!

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"Someone want to tell me where the hell I am?" Jenny has a gun, and she is not really afraid to use it, grasping the handle of it between her palm. She doesn't think she can be blamed for having this gun. When she was a kid, a demon stole her and her sister for a little while, made them forget who the hell they were, and then dropped them back on the street like it was nothing. Then she had another demon in her head, making her forget things, making her think and feel things that she didn't want to feel.

Now suddenly, she's in a damn cruise ship against her will. This is not what she'd expect out of a demon, but she's not at the place where she feels comfy letting her guard down.

His offer not to touch her puts her at ease. It's nice for a man not to assume, for once, to actually put some thought into what she might or might not want or be comfortable with.

"It's fine. Thank you." She reaches out for his arm, closing her hand gently around his wrist. "Sitting down might be best. This is all just a bit much right now." Being sick, being on a cruise ship, being forced on.

Ethan nods as soon as she says it is fine, and he smiles gently, sympathetically when she reaches for his arm and her hand rests against his wrist. Last time he was here he didn't run into anyone at all beyond the holographic or ghost employees. It was much creepier then.

"I can't even imagine. It's a bit too much for me, and I'm not even suffering from sea sickness," he says, and then moves closer to her, wrapping an arm around her back to help keep her upright. "You can lean on me. As much as you need."

"Not like this one." She shakes her head. "I haven't seen a ship like this one besides as a historical display. I serve on a starship--the USS Enterprise. I'm the ship's head nurse."

Christine smiles, trying to put him at ease. Or to at least show him she's a friendly party in all this. "My name is Christine. Lieutenant Junior Grade Christine Chapel, Starfleet Medical. But you can call me Christine."

"Thank you. You're so kind." She leans into him a little, grateful as much for his help as she is to just not be alone with all the not-quite-people she's seen so far, the crew.

"What's your name? I'm Rachel."

"So long as it's a mysterious cruise ship that's not trying to kill us, I think we can handle it." Also, there's Bonnie, why wouldn't she be awesome? Especially when she was complimenting her on her attire.

"Thank you. We were going to go out for my birthday, but ... obviously the night has been hijacked." Which, whatever. "All I need is booze and cute boys and the night can totally proceed as planned."

Because Caroline is nothing if not (somewhat) easy to please. Also, those not-quite-lies were a little too easy, but telling her best friend she's currently dead is not on the agenda for the evening, no matter how good the death was. They can talk timeline shenanigans when they're not celebrating the awesome that is Caroline.

"The bar is two decks up. I think."

A tiny blond glances up from the notepad she's writing in, and immediately glances away to avoid the headaches she normally gets from looking at people dead on. Cloudy auras are becoming a fact of life for her in a place like this and the splinters of people being shoved in from other worlds were only making things worse. But she has somewhat mastered the art of not looking at a person directly, but still making it seem like she's looking at them.

Or at least not ignoring them.

Zoe holds up her pencil, counting up the decks for a moment before nodding. "Yep. Two decks up. They have a pretty good selection."

There's a beat.

"Not that I'm actually drinking there. So who knows, it could all be terribly elaborate ruses and the booze may actually not be booze at all. Who knows?"

Danny Wilder has forgotten what it is like.

To appreciate something as simple and beautiful as the ocean going by. Once upon a time he would've stopped and smelled the proverbial roses, but that was a long time ago. The Mark takes, and what it takes, it takes ruthlessly. Words are difficult for him to come by. They are rusty, like he is rusty, and he isn't looking to frighten anyone that might help him. But he does know he needs help. Answers. Anything that can get him back to where he was before a door came in between him and his duty.

A door, for the record, that will not take him back regardless of his strength and determination.

"Are you -- "

Danny swallows. Let's try that again. He stands before Christine somewhat uncertainly, a look of utter confusion on his face.

"The door... won't work."

"If I knew, I would tell you."

Danny's voice comes quietly from off the side. His arms are folded, and he is unarmed. What weapons he carried with him did not make it through as soon as he stepped in. He feels odd without one, as though he has misplaced a limb. His gun has been an extension of him for a very long time. Demons are the sort of thing he hunts, but his demons and Jenny's might be different.

His posture isn't threatening, though he's a big dude.

We hope you don't mind tiny witches, Constantine.

Mireya is definitely too young to be having a drink, but seeing as how this is the first time she has ended up in a ghost cruise ship with no way back home (at least, not one she has found -- not even her magic is working on the door), she has decided she has earned her glass of fancy red wine. Besides, she might technically not even be in the States anymore. If this was Europe, she could totally have some freely. She straightens when she sees the old dude (sorry, Constantine, you are old to Mireya) step in, warily eying him from her vantage point.

"I'm armed," she blurts out before she can think of it any further. If she was armed -- which she is not -- the smartest thing would be to not announce it to the world, or a potential ghost captain that has trapped them all here for ... what, exactly?

Miri is more bravado than is good for her sometimes.

So apparently the afterlife was a cruise ship.

Not that Carol's complaining because it's better than some of the things she had drawn out for her in church every Sunday, but that doesn't make this afterlife any less ... final. And cruises were never her favorite vacation anyway.

All the same, it could have been worse. It could be somewhere where she couldn't drink.

(Don't judge her for it.)

It takes her some time to adjust to things, process what exactly happened - the fact that she's dead, the fact that Tyler is alone now. It isn't that she didn't know what she was doing when Klaus found her. Tyler living is the better option, by far. But that doesn't mean she doesn't miss him and worry about him all the same.

Eventually, however, she picks herself up. She makes herself useful and given that the ship is enormous she tries to organize small events to keep the fellow visitors busy. People come and go, doors open and close, but Carol's never does, but that's okay. She doesn't really want it to.

She's currently in one of the ballrooms, studying a set of tables that are being circled around by the staff. She's just having a small get-together, drinks, food, a chance for everyone to mingle with the uptick in people on the ship as of late. She drums her fingers against her chin for a moment before holding up her hand, taking a few steps closer to the staff member in question.

"No, no - try a little more to the left. We want to have some room to move ... "

Logan tilts his head in confusion at the starship. He has seen a lot in his years (most of which he doesn't remember), but a ship in the stars? That is something new. This is no historical display either where he's from (or when). It's current.

"...Logan," he answers since he is a lone wolf who has no title, no position, no crew, no team, no last name (it was James Howeltt once, wasn't it? but he doesn't remember that). Then there's a tiny smirk. "You can call me Logan. ...you said starship like... a ship navigating the stars?"

"Couldn't abandon you to the railing. Didn't look like it was very good company," Ethan says with a tiny smirk, and he turns them in the other direction, away from the railing. He catches sight of some lounge chairs ahead, which can be adjusted as much as needed so she can sit up more or lie down or anywhere in between. He's headed that way.

"Ethan Hale. Where are you from originally, Rachel? Since I'm assuming you weren't born on this strange, ghost ship."

Edited 2014-02-08 04:58 (UTC)

It had been his first night back in the Lockwood mansion (thanks, Rebekah) and Tyler had done his fair share of drinking when he stumbles to get off the couch to go use the bathroom (yes, hybrids pee). But when he opens the door he doesn't enter the bathroom at all.

Where he stumbles into is a ballroom -- which is he so not dressed for. He thinks briefly to himself that his mother would kill him for being someplace so nice in basically just his sleep wear. The thought makes his heart ache a little but not as much as it does when he hears that familiar voice.

He focuses his hearing. He has to be dreaming. It can't be. She's -- she's dead. Because he couldn't save her. Because of Klaus. Because of him. Any confusion or anything else he might be feeling about the situation stops dead in that moment because he's turning around, scanning the area until finally he spots her.

His mother.

Tyler's never been one to show how much things affect him if he can help it and yet in that moment he can't blink back the tears threatening his eyes. Nor can he stop himself before he's coming up to her, throwing his arms around her tightly

Sorry person she was talking to. Except her's not sorry at all.

Give him a moment or two and he might even find words.

If this is a dream he doesn't want to wake up.

Bonnie smirks or tries to, but it ends up being more of an amused smile. Caroline always has that effect on her, and she has no idea the differences and time that exist between them. She's still half convinced this is some weird dream which is all the more reason to enjoy and relax before reality sets back in.

"Wait, it's your birthday? Happy Birthday! Wow." This is one weird dream, but she laughs anyway ignoring the weirdness (it's a dream after all), linking her arm with Caroline's, and tugging her deeper into the ship. "C'mon, it's a cruise ship. Booze is sort of a staple. The cute boys might take more work, but we'll see what we can find."

They can celebrate this birthday together in the dream, and it turns out there is a place just for that. It is called The Birthday Place. It's one of the stores in a floor of the cruise ship, and the narration is creating this as she goes so it'll be fun.

Jenny turns immediately at the sound of his voice, and the gun is still in her hand, aimed his way as she surveys him. It's possible he is a demon in hiding, lying to her to get her to let her guard down, but it is also possible that she is not the only one dragged into this ship. She holsters the gun. It's not like bullets have an effect on demons anyway.

"So you were taken too?"

If he doesn't know where they are (assuming he's telling the truth and he doesn't look like he has anything to hide), it's the only conclusion she can come to.

"It wasn't a great conversationalist, no," she says with a tiny smile. She lets herself be led away, steered toward the deck chairs.

"Los Angeles. I grew up and went to school in other parts of the state but I was just in Los Angeles before I was here. You?"

She turns at the sound of his voice, surprised at being directly addressed. She offers the newcomer a polite, reassuring smile, getting to her feet.

He looks about the way she feels. Of course she's sympathetic.

"It won't work for me, either, I'm afraid. I'm sorry. I wish it did."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Logan. I only wish it were under better circumstances." Like, say, not involving kidnapping and mysterious sea vessels.

She smiles. "Yes. Exactly like that. A ship navigating the stars. I serve in Starfleet, which is the exploratory and peacekeeping arm of the United Federation of Planets." He hadn't recognized the uniform; her best guess was he'd need that explained.

But why? A thought occurs to her. If this ship or whatever power is behind it can pull people from different places, why not different times?

"Where I'm from the stardate--the year--is 2259."

And that's him looking as good as he does thanks to demon-tainted blood. Can you imagine if she knew he was really forty-six? Rather than looking vaguely late-thirties-ish? Awful. Absolutely awful.

He blinks at her, apparently unconcerned by her declaration. "Thank heaven for small mercies, eh? God himself only knows what sorts of miscreants are roaming this ship. It's a wise move on your part."

" ... Tyler ... "

She catches sight of Tyler about a split second before he's hugging her, the shock of the sudden weight of him against her drowning out everything else. She hugs him back on instinct, holding him close, letting him take whatever he needs because they've never exactly been an affectionate family, at least her boys weren't. Not unless it was needed, and Carol has more than a few ideas of why it could be needed here.

At the same time, her heart is sinking into her stomach. There's a part of her that logically knows that some people arrive here who aren't dead, who have a world to go back to when the time comes, but in this moment, she knows her life, Tyler's life. She knows how things ended for her, and what Tyler was up against. A part of her is already thinking the worst, but she tries not to let that creep to the surface. One hand comes up to stroke against the back of his neck and her eyes close, just trying to focus on the fact that he's here, and she could hold him again, one last time.

"It's okay," she whispers. "It'll be okay."

Tyler's never been the overtly affectionate type (Caroline being the large exception to that) and yet when he spots his mother there he can't think of anything other than hugging here. It's not like he thought he would ever get the chance to do so again. There's so many things that come to his head at once -- like how he didn't make it to graduation like she wanted and he's sorry. He's sorry he failed her. That he didn't keep her safe. That she came at the cost of his war on Klaus.

(and then he kept fighting it because he doesn't know what else to do with himself any more)

It takes him a while to even find his voice, but eventually he whispers softly.

"I'm sorry."

It's not enough but it's a start.

If there weren't tears the moment she saw him, there are definitely tears now. She feels them slip from the corners of her eyes, trying to find the words to tell him that he doesn't need to be sorry. That she failed him in far more ways than he ever did her.

She may have been a cost, but she knew the cost the second she saw Klaus. And she couldn't live with two ghosts in that house, but there's a part of her that knows that's what she forced him to do instead.

(But he's always been stronger than her.)

"It's not your fault," she says softy, keeping her voice low and calm. "I knew what I was doing." It may not have seemed like it, the drunk pleas of a mother with nothing else left, but she's smarter than people give her credit for, and she would do whatever it took to protect her son.

(It's a shame she couldn't do that years ago with Richard, could have been strong enough to tell Bill Forbes no that night when he tried to drag her back, but in the end, Tyler was even more than she could have dreamed of, and she wouldn't change him for the world.)

All he has left back home is that house.

His dad. His mom. Mason. His pack. Everyone's dead and he's left with the ghosts and honestly? He doesn't feel that strong anymore. He's fought and fought and where has it gotten him? He's so tired, so weary from it. But he has a big ass house that he has no idea what to do with.

His own voice is soft, laced with guilt and sadness. He doesn't pull back or let go of her. Not yet. He's not ready to just yet. "I should of known." That it wouldn't be that easy. That Klaus would always, always have the upper hand. The house always wins. He gets that now, he's learned it time and time again the most brutal ways possible.

Edited 2014-02-08 14:30 (UTC)

The house doesn't always have to win. There are stories of underdogs rising up over their abusers. History is covered in them - you simply have to be on the right side with the right people, and Carol has faith that Tyler will be able to find that. He has the time. He just needs the right plan and the right people.

"I'm sorry I left you." She told him after Richard died that she didn't want him to be alone, and in the end that was where she left him, alone. But she will never not see the upside to her son surviving.

Parents aren't supposed to outlive their children.

"I'm sorry there wasn't another way."

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[party post] come sail away with me

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