sirenspull | † ONE [voice] - backdated to Friday morning

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† ONE [voice] - backdated to Friday morning

[ Hello, world. Meet new arrival, Sam Winchester. But you might not know that it's him, because he's not showing his face yet, and: ]

This is Agent Murdock. [ He clears his throat, pausing a moment. ] If anyone's out there, and can hear me, or needs help... just let me know. I'm sort of at a loss, here, and I'd like some information. If this thing is even working, that is.

[ He's confident in his tech abilities, but something's definitely up with his phone. ]

... Thanks.

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[She's startled to hear his voice, and she drops the phone.]

... Sam?

[ Oh. My. Gosh. ]

Hi Sam. Your phone is working.

[The voice is familiar but if it Sam then it only stands to reason that Michael wouldn't have sensed his arrival. Enochian sigils and all. He doesn't respond as Michael but as Mary's friend "Mikaela". Chances are Sam hasn't been told the list of who's here yet.]

Welcome to Canada, Agent Murdock.

[Hi Sam, this is a pony fidgeting on your screen]

O-Oh, um... hello, Mister Murdock. This is, um, I mean. Your phone is working...

Sammy?

[Okay, seriously. If Port keeps taking his family and throwing him back, he's going to have an aneurism.

Not that he's mad, but he can't keep doing this shit.]

Well, right now since you just got here people are gonna be more concerned about you.

Are you safe?

You're a secret agent all of a sudden?

Check, and check. You're all set to go. Agenty-ness and all. As for info? Siren's Port's the name, and kidnapping people trans-dimensionally is its game. No way out that anybody knows of, trying to leave by boat winds up in not-so-pretty and not-so-funness, and you're not alone in the being kidnapped. Oh, and um. Somebody isn't happy about newcomers, so... Watch your back.

[The glass she's holding shatters on the floor before Mary realizes what voice she's hearing. No alias or filtering in the world could mistake it. There's no hesitation, no thinking at all before she whirls into movement, grabbing her still-on NV and running out the door almost instantly, completely forgetting about Michael sitting on the couch, supposedly acting as her bodyguard. The angel doesn't object and honestly, despite the incredible circumstances and the nightmares that have been haunting her every waking moment for days, she doesn't notice or remember why that matters. For the first time in four days, she isn't thinking about that, because it doesn't matter. Nothing matters.

He's here.

Mary makes it halfway down the stairs before coming to her senses and skidding to a stop. He probably isn't still outside. In fact, he's probably in an apartment, and that could be anywhere in the building. Then again, he might be in some motel somewhere- but no, he doesn't have money, how could he?

Still, there's no knowing until she finds out. So she leans against the railing and takes out her NV, trying to not to look like the total mess she is.

It isn't very successful. Her eyes are wide, too shiny with the urge to cry, her jaw is clenched, and she has that need-moar-caffeine look at the end of a two-day hunt with as many hours of sleep. She looks like she's seeing a ghost.

More than that, she looks almost afraid. Mary realizes distantly that if he does remember everything, he'll know instantly that something is bad wrong. God- if he remembers. There's so much to remember. So much ground to make up if he doesn't. It's about losing a son completely or getting back the shadow of the one she knew.

She isn't sure which would be worse.

Mary licks her lips uncertainly, jaw tight, and finally speaks.]

Sam?

This is Canada. [ A beat. ] Not the one you're thinking about. Siren's Port is in another dimension from the Canada you've heard about.

[Unlike Mary, Chuck actually reads before he answers- or rather, listens. Enough to come to one conclusion: he doesn't remember. Anything. It's a huge sigh of relief. This person isn't a blood-fueled nutbag, this person doesn't have the demons the old Sam had. He's fresh off the boat, and while in most cases that would be a tragedy, this time it's a mercy for everyone.

Still, he's cautious and exacting in his reply, in a distinctly unChucklike way. For about 0.03 seconds, before the Spock act melts into his usual meandering concern. Sam's about to get walloped by seventeen imperial tonnes of family bullshit, the guy deserves to see someone acting like a normal person. For a given value of "normal."]

Wow, Sam... you're here. Welcome. I'd say "welcome back", but since you don't remember it seems like a kind of mind-gamey douche move, right? I mean, Q-level mindscrewing.

[Yeah that was a Next Generation reference, fight him.]

If you're getting this now, I'm gonna guess it's after you got the full family welcome brigade, right? Just so you know, if you need a drink, I tend bar at this cabaret and I'll give you a couple on the house. This place called Merlotte's gives free drinks to newbies on their first time there.

Just, you know, get to this when you can. I know how first days are.

[C l i c k.]

Edited 2012-07-06 23:50 (UTC)

Agent? Are you some sort of policeman?

[She'd recognize that voice anywhere. It's Mary's little boy. So don't mind the gray girl with cat eyes looking extremely happy to see you.]

Sammy. You're back.

[Well, he knows that voice, it was the guy who was locked up in the Danger room after he went all cray cray. May as well have a little fun]

Agent Murdock was it?

Rosebud.

[As if its a secret code]

Which division, year of operation, and badge number are you?

[ Judging by most of the responses, the information bit seems to be covered. But Amy has been slacking on the greeting job anyway. Rough few days. Her Scottish accent is as vibrant as ever though. ]

We're really, most definitely out here. But let me take a few guesses, yeah? You already figured that out, and most of them have already filled you in. Unless you've still got questions, then I can probably help you out. Mostly.

So. How's the Agent Murdock thing goin' for you, Sam?

[A beat. He rolls his eyes.]

Let's get it over with. [He puts on a high-pitched voice that is totally an accurate representation of Sam's.] "Oh it's you- this is your fault. How dare you, blah, blah, blah" or alternately "Gee, Gabe, I thought you were dead. Golly gee, it was awful nice of you to go down swingin' to bail me and my dumbass brother outta the apocalypse."

[He scoffs.] Did I cover all my bases?

Edited 2012-07-07 07:20 (UTC)

[lot of people calling you Sam. He hopes you're the right Sam, so Miss Mary wont be so sad anymore...]

It works. It does neat things too, if you got a good one. You really an Agent?

[Castiel has been down for the count for the past week or two, due to some sort of nonsense with Core, as far as he and Crowley had been able to figure. But it had begun to let up in the last day or so, and Castiel began to check the network again to try to catch up on what he had missed, and he sees this.

Sam. Sam is back, again, and from the looks of things he doesn't remember his time here. That in itself is a great relief, but Sam's return is a shock and he doesn't know if it's a good one or a bad one.

Does Sam even know him? If he does, what does he remember? What happened most recently for him?

Is he the Sam that Castiel knows, or is he a threat again?]

Sam.

[It's just one word, quiet, but Sam's reaction should tell him at least part of what he needs to know.]

[Oh. Well. This is annoyingly convenient and yet not at the same time.]

Sam.

Agent Murdock! It's so good to see you again! Or, hear you, anyway. [Smiles.]

I'm sorry, the city of Siren's Port doesn't speak moose.

[Oh, Sam, it's just the voice you wanted to hear. Right?]

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