The 100; a panfandom game

HARRY

Hey, kiddo.

I remember you. Ickle baby you, I mean.

FILTERED TO SAM WINCHESTER:

I'm following Dean.

You're coming with me.

WHO: Bucky Barnes
WHEN: Tuesday, April 21st, afternoon
WHERE: The bathroom attached to his apartment
WHAT: Bucky makes a couple personal changes. It goes well.
WARNING(S): None! Unless you've got a thing about haircuts. (No judgement, I also have a thing about haircuts.)


( James Buchanan Barnes. James 'Bucky' Barnes. Sergeant James Barnes. -Bucky Bucky Bucky.- )

Huh. So not a dream as I previously suspected, and I'm fairly sure I didn't add anything extra to my drink.

Hi, name's Ruby and this whole forced kidnap thing is really getting old.

All right, show of hands, how many of us are from a place where claiming to have "magic" is a mental disorder or just the sign of a really arrogant masseuse?

This is something I never saw coming. One minute I was sitting next to the pool, being served a fruity drink with an umbrella by a cute waitress, and the next I'm in Nowheresville, surrounded by a mountain and probably some crazy people. So hi. I'm Charles Finley, but you can call me Chuck. I was told that it'd be a good idea to introduce myself with this little tablet here, but let me tell ya, it's a little lacking in the games department.

So I guess I'm staying with some people named Rose, Lissa, and Dmitri? You all Russian?

CAS

Well, I think it's safe to say that Dean wasn't lying.

Do you think Constantine knows about the Mark?

FILTERED TO THOSE OVER 18 21:

All right, I don't have Google, so I'm going to have to ask.

I have a question, and I need to ask someone with [...] experience.





Sexual experience.

[ Preemptive content warning for sexual discussion and some probable pearl-clutching about it. ]

Yeah, I can't say that I'm convinced that I'm not actually laying in St. Mungo's with a bleeding head wound or something, hallucinating about muggle science fiction.

Who all is out there?

FILTERED TO BILLY KAPLAN:

Don't get mad.

Or worried.

Don't get mad or worried.

I need the room Saturday. Our room. The one with the beds. I need that one. Alone. I mean, not alone, obviously, but -- can you sleep somewhere else? I promise to leave whenever you need me too, but I kind of made a bet with someone, and it's looking more and more like I am losing. I never lose.