The 100; a panfandom game

Who: Phil Coulson & Grant Ward
When: This evening
Where: A corridor not far from Phil's room.
What: They both got advice not to engage. Ward ignored his and goes manic ranty. Coulson semi ignored his. It lead to a mess of feels. But no one even gets shot!
Status: Complete
Rating: Low. Ward's a tad manic and Coulson's not dealing well.

( Do you think if it had have been you, instead of John that found me in Juvie. Do you think I could have been someone good? A hero? )

FILTERED TO MJ:

I was thinking and there's not a whole lot we can do for the holidays out here, but maybe we can pull everyone together to at least spend a little time. Share some embarrassing stories of the old days. Something like that.

And Christmas is a full moon, so... maybe on Christmas Eve?

How can I change to an empty room?

COMMAND:

I'm heading out on recon. I'm sending you my plans and my timeline and should be back by Saturday. If I'm not back by Saturday night, put together a travel-ready team that can come find me, because something's gone wrong.

I'll bring back whatever I can.

FRIENDS:

So here's the deal: I've been approved for long-distance recon to check out some abandoned military bunkers that should exist in this world. I'm leaving in a couple of hours and will be back Saturday. I'll be way, way out of range of the network.

Don't have too much fun without me, kiddos.

So uh, anyway.

Name's not Millie. It's George. Or Georgia if you want to get technical. One of my friends used to insist on it, only it sounded more like Jaaawgeeah.

There was a whole thing, at home where I wasn't supposed to give people the real name. But I've been here long enough to see that it's alright. None of you seem crazy or whatever. So, yeah. George. Still basically grumpy cat.

Carry on about your regualr scheduled business. 

[Command]

The bit I didn't want to throw out there?

I'm a Reaper. Like an actual 'It is thy time' Reaper.

I get lists. Of people scheduled to die and I take their soul before they do. And then help them cross over.

I'm telling you for a few reasons. If I have to do this here, you have to let me. Because believe me, the alternative is worse. And because you have to promise, all of you, not to ask me who is on my list. Not to ask me to stop it, not to interfere with it. Just do what you'd do anyway. If its meant to happen I'll be there when its meant to happen.

...And uh. Yeah. Emerson. I got to him on the way to the prison. Takes a touch. Just a touch. He didn't say anything really. But I can tell you the little I remember?

[Lydia]

So I told them. Mostly cause being a Reaper on my own sucks.

~ It went as you said.
~ He has become defensive, denied any such feeling and is currently not speaking to me
~ Though perhaps more due to being at a loss for what to say than anger.
~ I am rather at a loss for what happens now. Give him his space and hope it helps long term?

So not to jump you two back in to your little orbit of awkward here, but I need advice and you guys are my go to's.

Relationships.

With someone who probably doesn't know the whole 'When Faith was crazy' story.

Cause I think I'm in one.

...I'm actually nearly 100% sure I'm in one. Apparently I ooze hotness. Which, okay I do, but y'know?

So, yeah. Help?

People of Mount Weather! I require your aid!

And by I, I mean we, and by we, I mean the management of your local tavern. Bar or pub, some of you call it. The place where you drink alcohol. Where I am drinking alcohol right now, actually.

Here is how you can help: the place needs a name. Alistair and Peter and I have bounced around a dozen different things, but nothing sticks so far. Give us some ideas, if you would?

[Mom]

Can you cook? Or bake? Cakes?