Arrival (OTA and thread-jacking is okay)

[redfive_wizard]

Dairine woke up wedged between two washing machines, which was, at the very least, a new experience. And not a pleasant one. She levered herself to her feet and pushed a hand through her hair, looking around. The Castle messing with her, she figured, except this didn't look like any part of the Castle--present, past, or future--that she

Comments

[samefivealbums]

Why couldn't he ever be kidnapped by someone who wanted to do his laundry? It was insult to injury that he was now trapped and still had to wash his own shorts.

"Would it kill them to have a delivery dry cleaning service?" He muttered to himself, hauling his duffel bag into the wash room for -- according to Sam -- some much needed laundry TLC. And screw him, anyway. Sam's socks smelled like roadkill.

Oh well. Six months to go and he wouldn't have to worry about that anymore.

((Apologies for the delay. School got me.))

[redfive_wizard]

Dairine jumped in a way that might have been embarrassing, except that she had bigger things to worry about.

She turned, one hand still on the washing machine beside Spot and breathed a sigh of relief. It was Dean. She hadn't seen him around in a while, but at least he was familiar.

"Dean!" she said. "Do you know what's going on here?"

[samefivealbums]

Dean jumped, dropped his laundry, and snatched the gun out of the back of his jeans. He didn't point it at her, but it was ready in his hand.

"Who are you?" He really didn't like that a stranger knew his name. Made her seem like one of the bad guys...

[redfive_wizard]

Not the question that she'd been expecting, but at this point Dairine was used to being messed with, so whatever. She'd roll with this.

"Dairine. You might not remember me. I think the last time I really talked to you was when that plague dog was still around?"

She didn't like the look of that gun, so she started thinking a shield spell--only the first few syllables--just in case.

[krisnwildfire]

With all the strange things happening in this village, laundry stayed the same. Oh, she hated it, as she always had, but there was something a little...well, comforting about it. It was a familiar boat to cling to in an ocean of uncertainty.

As she came around the corner into the laundry room, she stopped in her tracks, and looked at the girl standing there with a raised eyebrow. For weeks, she had been the only girl in camp, and she kind of liked it that way. She dropped her laundry basket and crossed her arms, giving the girl the hard look that she used to cover her emotions.

"Who are you?"