First Person: [The young man that appears on the watch seems to be rather disoriented, though it looks like there may be more to it than just the usual confusion of someone who’s just stepped off the train. A clear view of the station can be seen over his shoulder, and he looks towards one of the posters that’s been put up with the intention of helping newcomers, pursing his lips slightly as he reads it. The watch hadn’t taken him long to figure out; a little bit of experimental button-pushing and he figured he’d touched on all of its functions. It wasn’t nearly as complicated as most cell phones he’d seen.
When he turns his attention back to the video feed itself, he appears to be dazed, unfocused. A lot had happened. He hadn’t expected to see anything remotely resembling being top-side again, but as much as this place looks like earth, he can’t be sure it’s not some kind of trick. Either it’s another one of Hell’s “diversions,” or there are angels intervening again.
Not that he knows why they’d want to bother, at this point. They’d made it pretty damn clear. It wasn’t him they were interested in. Not really. He had been bait. Someone to break and hold hostage until Dean did what he wanted them to.
He finally decides to speak, and when he does so, his voice is hoarse – either from disuse, injury, or something else. It’s impossible to tell, at any rate.]
Hey. What is this place?
[His voice is wary, distrustful. He’s learned his lesson about trusting people.]
Ruby City… sounds made-up. Like something out of a kids’ book.
[Whether it was angels or demons, someone has to be screwing with him.]
If it’s all the same, I’d rather not play any more of these games.
Third Person: He’d had enough. He was tired of sitting on his hands, tired of listening to people talk about him like he wasn’t there, like he couldn’t hear their voices in the next room, trying to figure out what the hell to do with him. It was obvious that these so-called brothers of his didn’t trust him. They expected him to hit the bricks the first chance he got, so they were keeping him on lockdown, under the guise of bonding. Looking out for family. Sticking together.
Yeah. Right.
He couldn’t blame them for not trusting him to stay put. He’d been pretty open about his view of the situation. He’d been given a job. The angels were tired of waiting for Dean to come around and give them the “yes” they wanted, so they’d moved on to Adam. He might not have been their first choice, but the deal they’d offered him was too good to give up. A chance to see his mom again. Rewarded with eternity in Heaven once the job was done. All for letting Michael use his body so he could fight Lucifer.
He’d already been dead. It seemed like a fair trade. He had nothing to lose, and he’d promised. He always kept his promises. It was something he’d always done. He wasn’t going to stop now, just because a couple of strangers he happened to be related to by blood wanted him to hear them out and do things their way. He had a job to do. If he did it right, he would get to see his mother. Simple as that.
He strained his ears just long enough to make sure he could still hear people talking in the next room before he got to his feet and started for the back door. If he was lucky, he’d be able to put some serious distance between himself and this place before anyone noticed.
[CANON] Adam Milligan || Supernatural || Reserve Expired || 3 of 3
When he turns his attention back to the video feed itself, he appears to be dazed, unfocused. A lot had happened. He hadn’t expected to see anything remotely resembling being top-side again, but as much as this place looks like earth, he can’t be sure it’s not some kind of trick. Either it’s another one of Hell’s “diversions,” or there are angels intervening again.
Not that he knows why they’d want to bother, at this point. They’d made it pretty damn clear. It wasn’t him they were interested in. Not really. He had been bait. Someone to break and hold hostage until Dean did what he wanted them to.
He finally decides to speak, and when he does so, his voice is hoarse – either from disuse, injury, or something else. It’s impossible to tell, at any rate.]
Hey. What is this place?
[His voice is wary, distrustful. He’s learned his lesson about trusting people.]
Ruby City… sounds made-up. Like something out of a kids’ book.
[Whether it was angels or demons, someone has to be screwing with him.]
If it’s all the same, I’d rather not play any more of these games.
Third Person: He’d had enough. He was tired of sitting on his hands, tired of listening to people talk about him like he wasn’t there, like he couldn’t hear their voices in the next room, trying to figure out what the hell to do with him. It was obvious that these so-called brothers of his didn’t trust him. They expected him to hit the bricks the first chance he got, so they were keeping him on lockdown, under the guise of bonding. Looking out for family. Sticking together.
Yeah. Right.
He couldn’t blame them for not trusting him to stay put. He’d been pretty open about his view of the situation. He’d been given a job. The angels were tired of waiting for Dean to come around and give them the “yes” they wanted, so they’d moved on to Adam. He might not have been their first choice, but the deal they’d offered him was too good to give up. A chance to see his mom again. Rewarded with eternity in Heaven once the job was done. All for letting Michael use his body so he could fight Lucifer.
He’d already been dead. It seemed like a fair trade. He had nothing to lose, and he’d promised. He always kept his promises. It was something he’d always done. He wasn’t going to stop now, just because a couple of strangers he happened to be related to by blood wanted him to hear them out and do things their way. He had a job to do. If he did it right, he would get to see his mother. Simple as that.
He strained his ears just long enough to make sure he could still hear people talking in the next room before he got to his feet and started for the back door. If he was lucky, he’d be able to put some serious distance between himself and this place before anyone noticed.