[action]

[was_a_soldier]

[When John Watson had first woken up, expecting a ceiling above his head and instead finding a tent, he'd been quite certain he was still dreaming--although camping had never been a subject of his dreams before. (And, of course, none of those said non-existent camping dreams would have ever included Sherlock, since going camping with the detective would have likely constituted as a nightmare.) Upon disserning it wasn't, in fact, a dream, and that this was one of the many twists that Wonderland enjoyed throwing at it's occupants, the doctor found himself rather content with the situation. After all, his first 'event' could have been far worse then a forced holiday in the woods.

That is, until the aforementioned detective started going rather stir crazy. Sherlock resented any form of boredom, and being forced away from his lab, his experiments, and the potential case or two was as good as hell on earth for everyone involved, no matter the scenery. This had been the second day of dealing with it, and no one had patience that steady, not even the good doctor.

John had all but stormed out of their shared tent after hours of waning tolerance. If Sherlock refused to look on the bright side of their situation and sulk in their tent all day, John was all too happy to enjoy it himself, wandering out of the circle of tents manned by the other citizens of this strange world and striding through the trees with his hands shoved into his pants pockets. Eventually, he had wandered into a clearing, the light speckled across the ground through the branches and swaying leaves.

That had been about an hour ago, and here he still lingered, sitting on a log and long since cooled off from any anger from his row with Sherlock. The former soldier sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Despite how relaxing this place was, he knew he should head back; even if Sherlock would likely not mention it again, it would be best he cleared the air. They'd be stuck in the same tent until this was over, after all. Not to mention he hardly knew these woods, or the other people living in Wonderland with him--best not to be alone and secluded for too long if the warnings others had given him were anything to go by. Still, John tilted his head back and closed his eyes, enjoying the spring warmth and deciding to wait just another couple of minutes before leaving... ]

Comments

[dashboardlite]

[When Dean woke up in a tent, he questioned A) his sanity, B) the activities from the night before, and C) his sanity for a second time, because you should always double-check your brain. Now, this narration should note that Dean loathes camping with a fiery passion that transcends Life, the Universe, and Everything.

But since he has a trusty towel and an open mind for just about anything Wonderland can throw his way, it isn't long before he gets over the initial WHAT THE CRAP sensations that plague him, settling into a mood that is not so much touchy as it is only slightly temperamental. He can build fires, hunt, and cook a meal for himself that isn't French in origin with more than five ingredients, so it's not all that bad.

He just hates that there's nothing to do.

So Dean takes a leisurely stroll in his (seriously, why are they wearing these things?) track suit. Over the river rocks, through the woods, to Grandmother's House end up in this clearing, standing across from some other dude in a track suit he actually hasn't seen before.

Fresh meat, probably.]

'Sup,

[comes the eloquent greeting, followed by a short handwave.]

[was_a_soldier]

[ John flinched out of his revere as he heard someone making their way into the clearing. When the other man entered the clearing, it didn't take long to figure out it was another occupant of the mansion from the gaudy track suit. American, from what he could tell from the accent and the choice of greeting.

John quickly stood, expression pleasant, shifting his weight.]

...Hello.

[Before the awkward silence that followed went on too long, the doctor cleared his throat and strode forward, offering his hand. No need to be impolite, right?]

John Watson. Pleasure to meet you.

[dashboardlite]

[Another Englishman. Geez, they're gonna get an influx and a scheduled tea-time in the mansion, at this rate.]

Dean Winchester, same.

[He offers a firm handshake and a thoughtful expression.]

...like Doctor Watson?

[He's seen the movies. Well. Some of them. And while this John isn't sporting a mustache, he's all modernized just like Wonderland's Sherlock. Dean puts two and two together.]

I'm gonna assume you met up with Mister Tall, Dark, and Stick-Up-His-Ass, then? No offense, he's just not exactly the friendly type.

[was_a_soldier]

[John, ever the loyal friend, can't snort back his laugh in time at that description. He tries to smother it with his fist, but it breaks out nevertheless.]

Ah-ahaha, y-yes, I met up with Sherlock. Not five minutes after arriving here, actually... And no offense taken, that's more fact then opinion anyways. He /does/ lack quite a bit of tact.

[But there's a fondness to his grin as he says that, if one was looking for it. John shakes his head, then rubs the back of his neck, considering the man before him.]

I'm guessing you're American, right?

[dashboardlite]

[Oh, thank God. At least the guy's got a sense of humor, and can recognize that Dean has one too. That's a plus. Dean was expecting a stuffy doctor-type.

Bingo. Born 'n raised.

[The narration bets that you totally can't tell that Dean is American. He's just so refined and well-spoken that American must obviously be the furthest nationality from your mind.]

Settle in all right? This event's pretty damn tame compared to the crap we've gotten before, but I ain't complaining.

[Well. Only a little.]

[libraritology]

[You know who likes walks and finds all of this terribly, frightfully exciting? Hint: the English Egyptologist.

Having been deprived of her own expedition after being tossed off of the side of a boat and into the middle of the Nile River, Evelyn had very nearly given up hope on the idea that she might be able to go out and live in tents and have something she could at least pretend was fieldwork.

Mark Meltzer had even agreed to help her map parts of the forest to see what conclusions could be drawn about the general geography of the place. So far the stratigraphy and geology doesn't exactly make sense, because there are marbles and granites and an assortment of stones that ought not be in the same region, let alone within five feet of each other, but she's making headway and picking her path through the trees with a satchel and a notepad under her arm.

Until she stops short, recognising someone she knows.]

John!

[Evie beams and steps over a shrubbery.]

I didn't expect to see you here.

[was_a_soldier]

Evelyn!

[John stood, brushing off his track pants and making his way over to her, smiling as he gets closer. It's hard not to when Evelyn has an obvious spark about her; she's clearly enjoying herself. It's nice to see he's not the only one making the best of their situation--sometimes Sherlock's opinions are so strong and unwavering it made one almost second guess themselves... almost.]

Yes, well... I got caught up enjoying the quiet.

[He throws her a sheepish grin, not bothering to delve into his tiff with Sherlock. It all seemed rather childish now. After a moment, he notices the notepad she's carrying, nodding at it.]

Not just out for a stroll, then?

[libraritology]

[Evelyn almost always enjoys herself. It's a gift.

She does understand the need for peace, quiet, and solitude, though. Sometimes she just needs to spend a couple of hours in the library. Sometimes a couple of hours turn into a whole day. Time flies when you're...reading about the ancient world and Mesopotamia.

Or something.]

Ah...no, I'm not. I thought I'd do a little research now that the weather is pleasant. I've been here for months now and haven't been in the forest before, can you believe it?

[Evie laughs, although it's true enough. She never really had the time, as odd as that sounds.]

It might just behoove me to figure out exactly how things work here, if I can. Have you been doing well?

[was_a_soldier]

Well, the mansion itself is so massive... and the gardens too. I can see how it'd be easy to forget there's even more unexplored areas then that.

I think that's rather brilliant, actually. To get at least some understanding of this place can only be beneficial, and you're making use of your time stuck out here in the very least.

[He gets distracted momentarily at a few animal calls, though nothing ever wanders into the clearing.]

...Me? I'm alright. Though sometimes I can't quite decide if I have cabin fever or suffering from sensory overload.

[The corner of his mouth quirks in a self-deprecating manner.]

[libraritology]

It's probably a combination of both. [She smiles apologetically.] You'll get used to it, I'm sure.

[Shouldering her bag a little higher, Evelyn glances curiously around the clearing.]

So...what exactly were you doing? Enjoying the weather, or investigating the woods as well?

[not_a_hero]

[Sherlock is not remorseful. John is being tetchy. He should know by now that... oh, forget it. Sherlock doesn't care anymore. This event is horrible, sleeping in a tent is horrible, sleeping next to someone who has the occasional anxiety driven nightmare in the same tent as a man who killed someone in a past event are all just lovely accompaniments to being driven away from his work...

He sits outside the tent, hugging his knees--not at all petulant--wondering if maybe John has been away too long and if he should go after him. It is his first event but John is more than capable in nearly all settings. He rocks, glaring at the treeline.]

[was_a_soldier]

[Eventually, John does wander back... After all the unexpected meetings he had in the woods, of course. So it takes a while.

When he finally does make it through the treeline, he feels Sherlock's glower immediately and stops, hands shoved into his track pants pockets and raises an eyebrow at the huddled detective.]

...Don't tell me you've just been sitting there pouting this whole time.

[not_a_hero]

Gone over an hour and that's the best retort you could think of? Really, John, not your best.

[Sherlock stands up, acting disinterested, as though he were done sitting there regardless of John finally reappearing. He's certainly the tiniest bit pleased he won't have to be quite so bored anymore.]

And I don't pout.

[was_a_soldier]

Didn't realize returning constituted a contest of wits. Might have stayed in the woods longer.

[John strides over to the tent, stopping a few feet from Sherlock. He looks over Sherlock's pointedly disinterested posture, scoffing lightly and putting up his own nonchalant act by poking around their food supplies, tossing an apple between his hands.]

Sure you do. Especially when you're bored.

[not_a_hero]

[said mostly to himself] Hardly works against you anyway....

[He watches John. An apple is not a way to make him not bored anymore.]

Anything interesting in the woods?

[paper_knight]

[Speaking of that mapmaking expedition, here's Mark now, wandering through the forest armed with a map and a knapsack. He sees a person in the clearing and calls ahead:]

Evie? Evie I found something I think you should see--

[Oh. Not Evelyn.]

Doctor! I'm sorry. Have you seen Miss Carnahan?

[was_a_soldier]

[John jerks in surprise at the call, though he did hear someone trekking through the forest. When Mark makes his way into the clearing, John raises a hand in greeting, then jerks his thumb towards the direction Evelyn had left through. The corner of his mouth quirks up.]

Just missed her, I'm afraid! She's rather excited about your mapping expedition.

[paper_knight]

[A little answering smile.]

I noticed. I'm a little concerned about how much of our data will be accurate when Wonderland returns to normal. But those are the breaks, I guess.

[was_a_soldier]

Can't hurt to try. Better then not attempting at all.

[John begins walking over to the other man, tired of calling across the clearing.]

Have you found anything interesting?

[paper_knight]

[He'll meet him halfway, naturally.]

There are caves here. Deep ones. I'd heard about them, but...well, I don't know what I was imagining, but mapping them out will be a project in itself.

[Action]

[aangairnomad]

[The Avatar was in a good mood; winter was gone, animals were starting to come out, flowers were blooming, the sun was shining, birds were singing...what was there not to love about this event? The warnings his friends gave him were clear enough, but it was difficult for him to focus solely on the bad things when the scenery was this lovely.

[He took a deep breath, enjoying the scent of fresh pine needles. He moved through the trees slowly, taking his time before coming upon a clearing. This seemed a good a place as any to loiter around. To his surprise, however, it was already occupied. Aang recognized the doctor from before, when he had first arrived. John had been friendly to him, and the boy could tell this was a good man.]

Hello! You're the doctor, right? It's a nice day!

[was_a_soldier]

[John is surprised; Aang is one of the youngest people he's encountered in Wonderland so far. But as soon as he recognizes the boy, he smiles warmly.]

Hello! Yes, I'm Dr. John Watson.

[His eyebrows furrow as he tries to recall the boy's name, then the doctor looks rather sheepish.]

We... met when I first arrived here, yes? I'm sorry, I can't remember your name.

[aangairnomad]

Yes, we did! I'm Aang. Don't worry about it, it's confusing with all of the new faces around here.

[He looks around the clearing, admiring its tranquil beauty.]

This place is nice. Mind if I join you?

[was_a_soldier]

Not at all.

[He smiles kindly, but with mild curiosity.]

I have to ask, the markings on your body... What are they? You seem far too young to get a tattoo legally, at least where I'm from.

[It goes unsaid--he's not Sherlock, after all, and doesn't fully trust his deductions nor is he so bold as to say them aloud-- but Aang reminds the doctor of a Shaolin monk.]

[aangairnomad]

[Aang sits down on the grass, his legs crossed in his usual meditative stance. Holding out his arms so John can see them, he continues,]

These are my arrow tattoos. Only true airbending masters have them. They help the flow of my chi, and it makes bending easier. Do you have any tattoos?

[He looks at the doctor in curiosity.]