AT THE GATES/ LEAVINGruggdlyhndsomeNovember 24 2011, 02:52:15 UTC
After taking Beckett up on her offer to use her dorm for a nap (and Beckett's bed was more comfortable than his!), Castle was feeling a great deal more refreshed, though still in need of about a gallon of coffee. As the pair headed back to Castle's dorm, he noticed a group gathering at the gate.
"Wonder what that's about."
Never wanting to be one to miss out on the action, Castle moved towards the group. Maybe he could also pick up on some more clues as to what this place was and how to get out of here.
AT THE GATES/ LEAVINGnoheatnikkiNovember 24 2011, 20:19:13 UTC
"Castle, wait."
She knew there was no way to convince him not to go, and she had to admit it was tempting to try to find a way home from this place. But she couldn't let Castle go out there unarmed. She turned her back to the group, then gripped Castle's shoulder for balance as she lifted her foot and retrieved her back-up Glock from her ankle. She moved close to Castle and pressed it in his hand.
AT THE GATES/ LEAVINGnoheatnikkiNovember 25 2011, 03:48:09 UTC
Rolling her eyes, Kate took the gun back. Then she slid her hands under his sport coat, looking to the casual observer to be giving him a hug. She moved closer to him, looking over his shoulder to see if anyone was watching them. She slid the gun into the waistband of his pants at the small of his back, patting it to make sure it was secure before pulling away slowly, grinning at Castle.
placeholdermostawkwardNovember 24 2011, 04:02:08 UTC
Wesley's just more or less keeping an eye on everyone else in the expedition, taking down names when he hears them thrown about and faces. Most of them he recognizes from the network. Some of them, he hasn't seen before, and it's those people that he keeps an eye on the most.
He's armed to the teeth but he keeps it fairly hidden as he approaches the team rather nonchalantly, stretching his limbs as he goes. He's fairly sure no-on else has seen his face before. This could be interesting, in case someone who's got a beef on him other than Sunshine recognize him and act on their frustrations. In that case, Wesley doesn't really give a fuck. He's a grown man who ran away from assassins who like knitting. He can handle everything, goddamit.
you knew it was comingneckerchiefedNovember 24 2011, 15:09:53 UTC
Ever efficient, Ariadne had her notebook out. She had a good idea of the people that were coming. She moved to the next person and looked up at him, not having any idea who he was. "Hi. Just asking names so I know who showed up." She said, pen to paper already.
mwahahhaamostawkwardNovember 24 2011, 23:30:25 UTC
Ooh, the temptation to flat out lie and just throw her off later on when shit starts to get real. But that actually requires some effort on his part, and that kind of thing tends to fall apart eventually. Besides, that's the thing that Wesley-Gibson-who-was-a-pussy-accountant would do, not Wesley-Gibson-who-is-an-awesome-assassin.
He raises an eyebrow at her -- belatedly he wonders why nobody knows him, then remembered that he's basically been communicating around with text -- and says, "it's Wesley, Sunshine. You gonna stop being in my face now, or what?"
She tapped on the notebook with her pen, before looking up at the nickname. "Why am I not surprised?" Ariadne smirked and rolled her eyes. Really. Why did she tell him to come if this was how they were going to start out.
"I'm not in your face. I'm about two feet away from you."
A sneer. He doesn't really act any different from how he presents himself during texts, really. Is it more offensive if he's in the real than it is to read text on the screen? Who the fuck knows. "Not far enough. Social call's over, maybe you ought to do something else productive other than trying for fucking small talk."
She wasn't expecting him to. He seemed the straightforward type, even through texting. Ariadne pursed her lips and shook her head. "It wasn't small talk it was a reaction to what you said." She replied back. It would probably be wise to the leave the conversation here, but her curiosity over him was too strong.
Not that she liked him at all, but she'd only ever seen this kind of anger out of a projection. While absolutely horrifying, it was like poking a beehive. Ariadne was confident enough that she could get out of the way before she'd get stung.
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"Wonder what that's about."
Never wanting to be one to miss out on the action, Castle moved towards the group. Maybe he could also pick up on some more clues as to what this place was and how to get out of here.
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"Castle!"
She jogged a bit to catch up with him a few feet before they reached the group.
"What's going on? Do you know any of those people?"
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There was a glint in his eye.
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She knew there was no way to convince him not to go, and she had to admit it was tempting to try to find a way home from this place. But she couldn't let Castle go out there unarmed. She turned her back to the group, then gripped Castle's shoulder for balance as she lifted her foot and retrieved her back-up Glock from her ankle. She moved close to Castle and pressed it in his hand.
"Take this. Hide it before we get over there."
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He looked around for a second then glanced back up at her.
"Where am I supposed to put this?"
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"At least buy me dinner first, Beckett."
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"Let's go. If you insist that we do this, let's at least stay with the group."
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He held out his hand like a gun and cocked it sideways.
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He's armed to the teeth but he keeps it fairly hidden as he approaches the team rather nonchalantly, stretching his limbs as he goes. He's fairly sure no-on else has seen his face before. This could be interesting, in case someone who's got a beef on him other than Sunshine recognize him and act on their frustrations. In that case, Wesley doesn't really give a fuck. He's a grown man who ran away from assassins who like knitting. He can handle everything, goddamit.
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He raises an eyebrow at her -- belatedly he wonders why nobody knows him, then remembered that he's basically been communicating around with text -- and says, "it's Wesley, Sunshine. You gonna stop being in my face now, or what?"
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"I'm not in your face. I'm about two feet away from you."
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Not that she liked him at all, but she'd only ever seen this kind of anger out of a projection. While absolutely horrifying, it was like poking a beehive. Ariadne was confident enough that she could get out of the way before she'd get stung.
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