16. And all the roads we have to walk are winding

[voluntaryapnea]

[Video -- Public]

[The video feed opens to reveal the deck of the ship. A second later you can see Stiles leaning against the railing, a troubled expression on his face. He's pretty sure he already has the answer to the question he's about to pose, but he wants to be sure. He glances over his shoulder, up at the sky.]

Okay so is it just me, or are the stars...a lot less bright than usual? [He shifts so that he's holding the comm up so everyone can see what he's talking about.]

Is this another Mirror Barge sign?

[Spam for Kira -- Pub]

[He makes it to the Pub in less than the ten minutes that he agreed to meet Kira. It's closed, but he uses his warden's item and lets himself in. He's already perusing the alcohol choices when he hears her footsteps approaching and his head pops up from behind the bar. He gives her a small smile before ducking down again.]

So what's your poison, my friend?

[Spam for Scott]

[It's much later now. So late he doesn't actually even know what time it is. He's not entirely sure where he's even going until he finds himself in front of Scott's closed door. Oh. Apparently that's where. He has a half-drunk bottle of Jack in his left hand and his vision is just a bit bleary. He already has a headache, and realistically he knows he should just go to his own cabin, down some aspirin, drink some water, and crawl into bed for the next twelve or so hours. But he doesn't feel like being alone tonight.

Kira was great company, but they parted ways awhile ago and he's been wandering the corridors since. He briefly contemplate just going up to the deck again. Laying beneath the stars and staring up, but the way they've gotten dimmer freaks him out when he's completely sober, let alone when he's drunk. And the rational part of his brain that's still functioning tells him that he shouldn't be out and about when there are at least two people on the Barge who would probably like to see him dead.

Still. Where once he wouldn't have hesitated to just barge in on his best friend, he knows Scott's dealing with a lot already and a drunken Stiles probably isn't something he should have to deal with. He sighs and pushes himself away from the door, stumbling a little and rubbing a hand over his face as he heads back toward the stairs.]

Comments

[godsays]

They've been disappearing.

[voluntaryapnea]

[He grimaces. While all of the other signs are unsettling to some degree, this is the one that bothers Stiles the most. And he's also sort of afraid it means that at some point they're going to be plunged into total darkness.]

Is it real, though? Or just...some kind of mass hallucination because of the influence of the other Barge? [Some kind of mystical convergence thing.]

[godsays]

I don't know.

But I watch them.

[voluntaryapnea]

Are they just -- blinking out?

[punched_hitler]

I don't know if it's another sign, but... I thought they looked a little dimmer, too.

[So he can at least give you confirmation that you're not seeing things?]

[voluntaryapnea]

I'm unsettled. Are you unsettled?

[Stars dimming and vanishing can't be a good thing, even if it's not related to the Mirror Barge.]

[punched_hitler]

[He nods.] I don't know anything about astronomy, but... that just doesn't look right.

[He pauses, then sets the feed to PRIVATE]

Honestly, I've been unsettled since Bucky started... being affected.

[He's still hoping to God it is something affecting him. From the outside.]

Private

[voluntaryapnea]

[He blows out a breath, and he nods, worry apparent on his own face.]

Yeah. Yeah, me too. It's just -- getting worse. He's not the only one who's affected. Morgana's pretty bad, too. [And she just got back.]

I keep hearing that it's something about a door that people have gone through on the other barge. That causes it.

[He thinks for a moment.]

When other Dean was here...he was really sick up until the two Barges converged. He was okay pretty much as soon as it happened.

Kira Spam

[whatthefoxsay]

[She lets out a little laugh as his head suddenly appears above the bar like it's floating there, and without any ado she hops up on its surface, swings her legs over, and lands on the other side with him.] Am I a stereotype if I ask for sake?

[She waves a hand in aversion,] Nevermind. Do they have coke? Bourbon and coke is good. Or if they have oj we can make screwdrivers.

[Whispering (why is she whispering even),] There's this thing called a Slippery Nipple.

Kira Spam

[voluntaryapnea]

[He can't help but chuckle at her question, glancing up at her as she hops up onto the bar.] No, but I haven't seen any around here either. But I might just be missing it.

[He does nod at the question about Bourbon and coke, however.] Those I know they have. Ooh, screwdrivers. Haven't had one of those in ages.

[But now his eyebrows arch up when she whispers and he's glad he's not drinking anything because. He probably would have spit it out.] And uh -- what's in that?

[whatthefoxsay]

Um. Butterscotch liqueur and Bailey's. Or whatever their equivalent is for Irish Cream.

[How do you know this, Kira? It is best not to ask. What goes on in New York stays in New York, okay?

She rubs her hands together like an evil overlord.]

Let's make stuff! And drink it!

[voluntaryapnea]

You know. I've never had butterscotch liqueur before.

[He makes a huh noise and shrugs, reaching out and grabbing the bottle of Bailey's he spots and setting it on the bar. He's more than a little curious about her knowledge of all things alcohol related because she doesn't strike him as someone who drinks a lot. Interesting. He files it away in the part of his brain that collects facts about his friends.]

I like your attitude.

[He grins and grabs a couple more bottles, setting them on the bar.]

Okay. Now to find OJ. There's gotta be some. [He stands and moves over to the fridge.]

[Spam]

[semifreakingnormal]

[If someone asks later, he probably won't be able to say what it was that draws him to the door. Maybe he smells the jack. Maybe he smells Stiles. But something makes him pause as he starts to tug off his shirt, turning to stare at his door like he's expecting it to open.

But the seconds stretch, and it stays closed, and he stays alone.

Smoothing his shirt back down, Scott crosses the space in one step, pulling open his door and stepping out into the hall.]

Stiles?

[That's not a sight he's used to seeing: Stiles walking away from him. His eyes dart to the bottle in his hand, and he knows he should have checked on his friend earlier.]

Where are you going?

[Spam]

[voluntaryapnea]

[He turns back at the sound of Scott's voice calling his name and arches his eyebrows, holding up his free hand palm out.]

I was just...[Now he motions vaguely with his hand. Behind him.]

Wandering. Heading back to...you know. My room. [He shrugs a little and lifts the bottle up.] Want some? I know you can't get drunk and...apparently neither can Kira, which isn't surprising cause of the whole supernaturally high metabolism...thing.

[Spam]

[semifreakingnormal]

Yeah.

[He doesn't, really, but he doesn't think he wants Stiles going back to his room alone, either. Especially not since that's where Jackson is. He waves Stiles forward again, holding his hand out for the bottle.]

The whole not being able to get drunk thing sucks, by the way. But I can try really hard.

[Spam]

[voluntaryapnea]

[Despite being slightly hammered (though maybe not as much so as Allison??), and feeling tired and bummed out, a smile tugs at his mouth anyway. Kira said the same thing earlier.]

Yes. Yes, that does suck, my friend. On the plus side if we ever do come up with a way to get you drunk, you'll probably never suffer another hangover again.

[He walks back toward Scott, holding the bottle out to him. He's pretty sure he's had enough, considering he drank quite a bit before hitting the Jack.]

[fridgetothefire]

That's new.

But I'm going to guess it's not unrelated.

[voluntaryapnea]

Thaaat's what I was afraid of.

[fridgetothefire]

You can't spend too much energy worrying about signs we can't read.

My laundry came up bloody this morning. A jacket I accidentally lost in Los Angeles, on this side. We've got days left at most.

[voluntaryapnea]

Or do anything about. [Except prepare. They can always do that.]

...like literally bloody?

[strangehistorian]

...They are.

[voluntaryapnea]

It's very unsettling.

[lydiascreams]

[At first, Lydia wonders if he means figuratively. But when she sees the sky, she realizes he means literally.]

Considering we're crossing into a different reality, I guess that makes sense. [As much sense as this type of things can make.]

[voluntaryapnea]

[Figuratively, too, but that isn't even a surprise at this point. The actual stars fading, however...]

Yeah, I guess. [He looks back at the screen and offers her a small smile that doesn't reach his eyes.] We're getting closer. Anya says it's probably just a few more days away.

[lydiascreams]

We should set a pack meeting. Include everyone and warn them, tell them as much as we can about our mirror selves. Come up with safe words.

[She will talk to Jackson herself and someone will talk to Erica, because Lydia sincerely doubts she will be showing up there after their last conversation. This conversation will be hard enough without the two of them involved.]