caveofsapphires | Today is the first day of the rest of your lives [ opening post ]

Today is the first day of the rest of your lives [ opening post ]

WHO: EVERYONE. NPCs will be around to actively engage if you so desire.
WHAT: Sleepers wake and begin to figure out just what, exactly, they are supposed to do with themselves. tl;dr: REACTION POST for new characters to get out and mingle.
WHERE: Everywhere. Mostly the living quarters, but really: anywhere you want.
WHEN: The first week, April 1st through April 7th.
WARNINGS: Travis Touchdown (Ryan LeCourt) has quite a mouth on him.
NOTES: This is a serious game, guys. WE’RE SUPER SRS HERE. ~~This may be a lie.~~

Shimmering blue blanketed the underground city as the light reflected off the sapphires in the ceiling. It cast its eerie glow, almost mimicking the effect of light on water without the sort of freeing peace one might feel with the soft ocean waves. Figuring out how deep down the city was located was near impossible when the air was obviously heated to something approaching comfortable, and nothing seemed to echo too far past the quiet hum of the city.

Workers made their way down the street, every one with a Sleeper in tow. Something that would have been unheard of only a few days ago, now more likely than one would think. They intended to start slow, but considering how many others were still in cryo, this was a laidback pace.

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The whole way to his quarters, Gabriel had stared at the back of the mook's head, eyes narrowed, and snapped his fingers. Once every thirty seconds, exactly. Except when he made it on the minute every five (or seven) snaps. He was fairly certain the man had developed a twitch before he was left alone, which was about the only kind of satisfaction Gabriel could currently get. Especially given the photograph the mook pointed out before he left.

Once alone, the archangel looked skywards and shouted at the ceiling: "Is there a point to this? Because if this is meant to be some reward for finally sticking up for humanity, I can think of better things! Like maybe those seventy-two virgins!"

There was no answer, of course. It would have been nice, but Gabriel couldn't really say he was surprised. Dad hadn't talked to anyone except Joshua and, indirectly, Castiel and the Winchesters, in at least a century.

The room was too small. He was so much less than he should have been--he'd felt disorientated on waking up. Disorientated! An archangel!--and yet the room felt tiny. He prowled once around the edges before deciding no, he wasn't going to stay, and left. Obviously the first thing to do was to look for metaphysical cracks in reality. There wouldn't be any if this really was Dad's work, of course, but maybe it was Lucifer's, in which case there might possibly be something.

Which was why, not five minutes later, people would walk down the street to see a brown-haired man poking at locked doorways, prodding far too hard at the terminal screens, snapping his fingers (then scowling when nothing happened) and, on occasion, looking up at the ceiling to shout, "This isn't funny, you know!"

The whole room had been searched, top the bottom. There seemed nothing particularly out of the ordinary (well, aside from everything else) or suspicious, nor did there seem to be anything of particular use--aside from the video he'd found ready to play, which had unsettled him.

Which meant that if he was going to find anything else out today, it would be outside his assigned living quarters. Malcolm was by no means thrilled by this place, even if it did have a touch of pleasing aesthetic. In a way, it was heartening just to know that he was hardly the only one wandering aimlessly amidst the confusion.

He'd yet to resort to yelling at the ceiling in frustration.

"I think you'll find there aren't many people around who find this particularly funny," he remarked to the fellow.

"Oh, they're up there all right," Gabriel said without turning around or shifting his gaze from where he was scowling at the ceiling. "Having a good chuckle at my expense. So!"

Abruptly he spun around with a clap of his hands and first laid eyes on his unexpected companion. He wasn't aware of it, but he squinted as if near-sighted and Malcolm was just too far away. Not being able to see souls--it was like being blind. "What are they calling you?"

Perhaps it was disorientation at being tugged out of whatever world he'd been used to. Or perhaps he was just talking to some authority figure he figured could see him. (Not a bad thought--there had to be some way of monitoring all these people, unless the force around was truly enough.) Or maybe the bloke was just a bit touched in the head.

"Even if that were so, it can't be just your expense." Thanks a lot, Gabriel. Malcolm gave a short inner debate on whether he should give his name (his other name, the name they told him was his, but isn't). Instead, he shrugged. "Does what they call me here matter terribly much? Don't you think our so-called dream names might be more appropriate?"

That was ... curious. Gabriel had been assuming the Sleepers were all ... well, all just players on the stage of this world Dad had thrown him into. The man's words implied that he'd been yanked from somewhere else too. Gabriel gave the man a sharp, considering look, but it lapsed a split-second later into a grin, pinpointed by a finger at Malcolm.

"I like you. You've got this sense of resisting the obvious. I know people like that where I came from." His eyes flickered aside and he shrugged casually. "Not that I really liked them all that much, but details. "

Particularly since he'd been trying to make them give in to the obvious for most of the time he'd known them. "What's your name, Mr Brit?"

Malcolm gave a small scoff. "Well, I'm glad that even though you don't like them, you like me." Did he really want to be associating with this guy?

Though he supposed fast friends might prove useful, almost as useful as information, perhaps. "Depending on who you ask, it's either Gavin Stark or Malcolm Reed. What about yourself? And do you always make it a habit of shouting up to the heavens?" Not that he realized that was exactly what was happening. And he might leave Gabriel to guess which name was which. Malcolm wasn't entirely certain what would happen if anyone were caught truly perpetuating their "dream" names, so a little care might have to be taken. At least for now.

"My usual telephone line is out of order," Gabriel said drolly, squinting again as if he'd be able to see Malcolm's soul if he only peered deeply enough. The blasted human hadn't told him which name was which.

"Take your pick. I've got a ton of names to offer. 'Round hereabouts, though? They call me Sylvester Wilton." He rolled his eyes.

"Well then, Mr. Wilton. Or anything else I suppose I might decide to call you--sorry," he interrupted himself, just a touch weirded out by all the squinting, "but do you need a pair of glasses or something of the sort?"

"Uh ... only if they'll reveal your soul when I put them on," Gabriel said in the sort of tone which said the words should have been facetious but really weren't. "I knew humans were blind, I just didn't believe it."

"What are you talking about?" He'd guess very human-like alien, naturally, but what was that about souls?

Gabriel sighed. "Souls. You know, those warm glowy things inside you that give you emotions and make you you." He tapped his chin. "Or are those tapeworms? I forget. You've got so many things that can get inside you, it's hard to tell sometimes."

"I know what souls are. I'm just wondering who or what you might actually be if not human and why you're talking about revealing souls." He just wasn't going to touch the tapeworms comment, at all.

"I can see them, of course," Gabriel said with an air of exasperation. "Well, not right now, but I should. Usually. Useful things, souls. They can tell you a lot about a person." He eyed Malcolm as if everything would change and he'd get his second-sight back in a flash.

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"What's not funny?"

Jonas had been doing about the same as the other man, exploring the new world he'd found himself in. It was a relief really, to be able to explore this place in a way he'd never been allowed to at the SGC, even after joining SG-1.

He cocked his head as he looked around, trying to find the source of the man's frustration, besides the obvious general confusion of course. "Is something wrong?"

"This!" Gabriel turned and gestured expansively to everything around him with a sweep of his arms, and then lifted a finger. "Oh, it's a fantastic construct, I'll give you that. Maybe even a completely new reality, even, though there aren't exactly many who can pull that off with aplomb. It's the fact I've been dumped here without travel instructions that I object to."

Then he stopped and actually took a proper look at the man with a squint, the finger pointing. "Sleeper, right? 'Cos if you're a Worker let's just pretend that I'm still adjusting from coming out of stasis."

He wasn't in the mood to be lectured.

It was obvious this man was a sleeper and Jonas didn't need his ability to read people to tell that. It was clear in his tone and body language, not to mention his words. He kept his expression and tone mild as he spoke, since the man was already more then agitated. "I'm a Sleeper as well, though I can't say I've ever known anyone who could construct a whole new reality either. I've known those who could get close however."

"Oh, well, that's good then." Gabriel relaxed--sort of; he let his hand drop, anyway--and raised his eyebrow. "There's a whole lot more of them around than you'd think. Just really good at hiding." He paused, as if he'd only just registered the man's words. Ordinarily it would be something he could see in a soul, but as it was ... "Who've you met you can come close?"

That...wasn't exactly a comforting thought but this man's dream (or reality or whatever it was) could very well be different from Jonas' so it might not even matter. "I doubt anyone you would have heard of. The Goa'ould or the Replicators, or so I thought, in my dream."

Goa'uld and Replicators. They actually sounded very familiar--like something Gabriel had watched. Very ... science fictionish. Which, he realised after a momentary frown, it was.

"Oh, them," he said dismissively with a wave. "Amateurs. How much more two-dimensional can you get as a god? It would be like if jelly babies were each given a different name just because they're coloured differently, but they're still all made off the assembly line."

Except for some; he remembered there were a few characters who actually managed to pull off the godliness as well as a human actually could. And then he had to pause and give the man an odd look, because hadn't he just said he'd met them? "We are talking about a TV show, right?"

"You've heard of them?" Jonas asked, a bit startled by this fact. But then, considering how many worlds both of them had affected, it really shouldn't have been a surprise, even though Jonas had heard of neither before meeting SG-1. Then he frowned, confused at the metaphor. "What's a jelly baby?"

Then the man was giving him and odd look and Jonas had to resist the urge to take a step back. He'd gotten his share of odd looks but this one was different. Not exasperated or dumbfounded, but disbelief. "Of course not. What does a TV show have anything to do with this?"

“A whole lot more than I thought it did five minutes ago,” Gabriel muttered, eyeing the man thoughtfully. Really? Not only an alternate reality, but an alternate reality which broke through into other alternate realities? Unless it was archangel afterlife and this was just how he was going to be entertained for the rest of his existence—which, well, frustrating lack of explanations aside, would probably work. Gabriel’s interest was piqued, at any rate.

Mostly it was just a matter of figuring out what were constructs and what weren’t. And how many of the Sleepers actually did have a connection to their world as individuals, or whether it was all being pulled from what Gabriel remembered. (Though that wasn’t necessarily proving anything—anyone who could make a construct of this calibre could probably make sure the Sleeper constructs were self-sustaining, with or without Gabriel’s knowledge of them.)

It was interesting, annoying, and told him utterly nothing about the exact nature of his circumstances, except that Dad was probably behind it. Abruptly Gabriel clapped his hands. “So which one are you, then?”

Still confused, Jonas just eyed him back. The man was getting some sort of amusement from this but he couldn't see why, nor what this had anything to do with a tv show. Did they even have TV in this world or was that just a dream thing?

"One what?" Jonas was lost. The man hadn't answered any of his questions and so he had no context to go on to answer the question.

"You know!" Gabriel's hands motioned exasperatedly in the air. "Which Sleeper? Which one of the team? You're one of the aliens, am I right? Everyone else would know what the Hell a jelly-baby is. And I can say that with confidence, because it was a demon who invented them. How else were they going to get people to eat children?"

Okay, so they kind of failed at the getting-them-to-eat-live-children part, but jelly-babies were still a source of amusement in some circles and embarrassment in others.

"...what?" Was this how people thought Jonas sounded when they looked at him strange? Because now he couldn't quite blame them. "I'm an alien yes but I'm not a Goa'ould or a Replicator! I'm Kelownan!...what's this about eating children?"

Aha. Gabriel snapped his fingers at the man in a 'called it' sort of way. "Knew it. And the not-being-a-goa'uld thing. Who'd want to be? Most of them were all pretty damn boring. I mean, 'Bow before your god or die?' Really? They can't come up with anything more original? Puh-lease."

He oughta know. Sure, he was only a god for a couple thousand years, but he'd spent more than enough time observing the other pagan gods to know that it was possible to be divine and not be boring as Hell.

He shrugged, hands spreading a little and eyebrows lifting innocently. "Just a little attempt to corrupt humanity that failed and resulted in an oddly-shaped but delicious candy snack."