(no subject)
Jul. 23rd, 2012 08:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
learned_the_truthJohn Winchester has always sucked at wrapping presents.
Mary had been good at it—edges always even, corners military sharp. John, on the other hand, is starting to feel desperate. A grown man should not be defeated by gift wrap. Unfortunately, gift wrap is laughing in his face.
Does a one-year-old really care if his birthday present is wrapped or not?
Well, Sammy won’t, but Dean sure will. Dean’s birthday had passed with very little fanfare, a fact that John feels a healthy dose of parental guilt about. Dean didn’t seem to care, but what he does care about is that Sammy’s first birthday is done right.
They’d gone to K-Mart to pick out his present; a board book about ducks and a red plastic dump truck. He had grabbed a pack of balloon print paper and a roll of tape almost as an afterthought.
An afterthought that he’s cursing now as he attempts to scrape off the twisted length of tape that’s binding all the fingers on his left hand together. The half-wrapped present on the table looks like something that’s gone through a trash compactor.
He’s keeping the volume low, but the air around John’s table is growing thick and blue.
[OOC: A brief character note.]
Mary had been good at it—edges always even, corners military sharp. John, on the other hand, is starting to feel desperate. A grown man should not be defeated by gift wrap. Unfortunately, gift wrap is laughing in his face.
Does a one-year-old really care if his birthday present is wrapped or not?
Well, Sammy won’t, but Dean sure will. Dean’s birthday had passed with very little fanfare, a fact that John feels a healthy dose of parental guilt about. Dean didn’t seem to care, but what he does care about is that Sammy’s first birthday is done right.
They’d gone to K-Mart to pick out his present; a board book about ducks and a red plastic dump truck. He had grabbed a pack of balloon print paper and a roll of tape almost as an afterthought.
An afterthought that he’s cursing now as he attempts to scrape off the twisted length of tape that’s binding all the fingers on his left hand together. The half-wrapped present on the table looks like something that’s gone through a trash compactor.
He’s keeping the volume low, but the air around John’s table is growing thick and blue.
[OOC: A brief character note.]
(no subject)
Jul. 21st, 2012 07:52 pmblowupthefloatsEven though it's about a week before the actual events (and that said events are taking place in London, not New York), Olympic fever pretty much has Manhattan in its grip.
What other explanation could there be for Munch's theme for the specials board tonight?
Tonight's Specials
Gold Record
Silver King Cocktail
Bronze Dragon
Olympic
What other explanation could there be for Munch's theme for the specials board tonight?
Gold Record
Silver King Cocktail
Bronze Dragon
Olympic
(no subject)
Jul. 15th, 2012 08:43 pmlearned_the_truthJohn’s been keeping a mental note of where the door to Milliways pops up. The first instance had been that bar on Main Street. The second time was up on the second floor of the church. This time it had been on the other side of the kitchen door in the parsonage where John had been going to start the first pot of coffee of the day.
(He really hopes that Milillways avoids things like, say, shower doors. He can live without hosts of people from other dimensions seeing him naked, thanks.)
John takes a seat at the bar and clears his throat before asking, “Hey, uh…can I get a cup of coffee? Black?”
Ordering stuff from thin air? That’s going to take some getting used to.
But the steaming mug appears right away, along with something else. A largish cupcake, chocolate on chocolate, with one of those sparkler candles stuck into it.
“What the hell…..?”
And then it hits him. He’d completely forgotten that this was his birthday.
Which begs the question, how the hell does Milliways know?
[OOC: A quick character note.]
(He really hopes that Milillways avoids things like, say, shower doors. He can live without hosts of people from other dimensions seeing him naked, thanks.)
John takes a seat at the bar and clears his throat before asking, “Hey, uh…can I get a cup of coffee? Black?”
Ordering stuff from thin air? That’s going to take some getting used to.
But the steaming mug appears right away, along with something else. A largish cupcake, chocolate on chocolate, with one of those sparkler candles stuck into it.
“What the hell…..?”
And then it hits him. He’d completely forgotten that this was his birthday.
Which begs the question, how the hell does Milliways know?
[OOC: A quick character note.]
(no subject)
Jul. 10th, 2012 08:46 pmlearned_the_truthThey told him on his first visit that Milliways could turn up anytime, anywhere. Damned if they weren’t right. This time it was on the upper floor of New Hope Lutheran church where John had gone to take care of some handyman chores in the Sunday school rooms for Murphy.
He’s not proud of how he’d lost his cool the first time around. If he’s going to hunt, he’s going to have to train himself out of reactions like that. This time, he’s considerably more collected. Once he realizes that he’s been whisked away again, John just hefts his toolbox and starts a slow circuit of the bar, taking a good look at everything this time.
He winds up in front of the window. The one that’s supposed to show the Once and Future Big Bang, apparently.
“So, you’re how it all ends, huh?”
[OOC: A brief character note.]
He’s not proud of how he’d lost his cool the first time around. If he’s going to hunt, he’s going to have to train himself out of reactions like that. This time, he’s considerably more collected. Once he realizes that he’s been whisked away again, John just hefts his toolbox and starts a slow circuit of the bar, taking a good look at everything this time.
He winds up in front of the window. The one that’s supposed to show the Once and Future Big Bang, apparently.
“So, you’re how it all ends, huh?”
[OOC: A brief character note.]
(no subject)
Jun. 26th, 2012 08:25 pmlearned_the_truth[OOM: Immediately after this.]
A large, soggy man in jeans and a flannel shirt lets himself into Milliways, goes directly to the bar, and sits down as if nothing is amiss.
John Winchester—back in his younger and somewhat more innocent days—had sworn to himself that he wouldn’t be one of those guys who brought the war home with him. And for the most part he had been successful. He’d gone home to Lawrence with eyes turned forward toward ‘happily ever after’ instead of back toward the jungle.
But ever since November, old instincts have started to creep back. Instincts that had served him well and kept his ass alive back in Vietnam. An attention to and awareness of surroundings that told you when something wasn’t quite right.
And right now, sitting at what is, for all intents and purposes, a perfectly ordinary bar, an insistent prickle on the back of John’s neck is telling him that something is off with a capital ‘O’.
He turns, slowly.
“What the hell?”
This? Would be the very definition of getting caught with your pants down.
[OOC: An important note.]
[OOC 2: Oh my stars, you guys are excellent, but I'm starting to fade and need to beg slowtime. I'll pick up tags on the flipside.]
A large, soggy man in jeans and a flannel shirt lets himself into Milliways, goes directly to the bar, and sits down as if nothing is amiss.
John Winchester—back in his younger and somewhat more innocent days—had sworn to himself that he wouldn’t be one of those guys who brought the war home with him. And for the most part he had been successful. He’d gone home to Lawrence with eyes turned forward toward ‘happily ever after’ instead of back toward the jungle.
But ever since November, old instincts have started to creep back. Instincts that had served him well and kept his ass alive back in Vietnam. An attention to and awareness of surroundings that told you when something wasn’t quite right.
And right now, sitting at what is, for all intents and purposes, a perfectly ordinary bar, an insistent prickle on the back of John’s neck is telling him that something is off with a capital ‘O’.
He turns, slowly.
“What the hell?”
This? Would be the very definition of getting caught with your pants down.
[OOC: An important note.]
[OOC 2: Oh my stars, you guys are excellent, but I'm starting to fade and need to beg slowtime. I'll pick up tags on the flipside.]
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
hunter-legend.livejournal.comIf it weren't for the fact that this place was the closest thing to an escape that he has, John'd think that the Demon was timing things just right.
Sensation hits him as his foot clears the doorway; he catalogs them from the tingle of toes all the way to the slide of his collar against the back of his neck. The rest literally hits him: the twisted ankle, the bruises forming on his hands and in a line across his back, the cut above his eye that's thankfully stopped bleeding. He stops and leans on the too too solid shotgun (fingers well away from the trigger) before acclimating to the pain and heading for the nearest booth.
Usually he prefers to sit at the bar, but for today he'll have the rats bring him his lunch.
Sensation hits him as his foot clears the doorway; he catalogs them from the tingle of toes all the way to the slide of his collar against the back of his neck. The rest literally hits him: the twisted ankle, the bruises forming on his hands and in a line across his back, the cut above his eye that's thankfully stopped bleeding. He stops and leans on the too too solid shotgun (fingers well away from the trigger) before acclimating to the pain and heading for the nearest booth.
Usually he prefers to sit at the bar, but for today he'll have the rats bring him his lunch.
(no subject)
Apr. 4th, 2008 10:30 amthere-is-a-me.livejournal.comCrafts time. Arts and crafts. A time in which an adult supervises a child in the use of construction paper, glue, glitter, foil, dried macaroni, Popsicle sticks, and other such things. It is meant to stimulate artistic growth, encourage creativity, and generally be a lot of fun. It is rarely, if ever, tidy.
Spoon has no artistic talent at all. He potentially has negative artistic talent. Crafts time failure. Add in the rampage of a horde of bored puppies and you get critical crafts time failure. See, Raisa bumped the table and was then slammed into by Stepan and Snowflake. Josip, attempting to avoid the other three, ended up crashing into Spoon's chair and Leela used his back as a launching pad onto the table so that she could charge across it after Speedy and Clutch who managed to pass the whole situation without actually running into anything themselves. Turlough, after the glitter hit him, shook as though the glitter was water...
Spoon has construction paper in his braids, foil stars on his shirt, glitter everywhere, bits of glue drying on his cheeks, and you get the idea. Spoon looks as though he's suffered critical crafts time failure and is seeking beer. Or Sambuca. Or both.
Spoon has no artistic talent at all. He potentially has negative artistic talent. Crafts time failure. Add in the rampage of a horde of bored puppies and you get critical crafts time failure. See, Raisa bumped the table and was then slammed into by Stepan and Snowflake. Josip, attempting to avoid the other three, ended up crashing into Spoon's chair and Leela used his back as a launching pad onto the table so that she could charge across it after Speedy and Clutch who managed to pass the whole situation without actually running into anything themselves. Turlough, after the glitter hit him, shook as though the glitter was water...
Spoon has construction paper in his braids, foil stars on his shirt, glitter everywhere, bits of glue drying on his cheeks, and you get the idea. Spoon looks as though he's suffered critical crafts time failure and is seeking beer. Or Sambuca. Or both.
hunter-legend.livejournal.com...and a man can't get much lower than John Winchester of late. Being in your own personal Hell, picked out and fitted special for you by one of Hell's top hounds, sort of sticks you at the top of the Bottom.
Giving him body armor, a bit more hair, a loaded shotgun, and a smiley face button? That is another matter entirely.
It's weird, of course, feeling his plaid shirt, his worn jeans, turn into leather and the shotgun in his hands getting heavier, some sort of special model that'll probably blow the shit out of whatever it's pointed at. The cigar in his mouth is a new one, but it's not something he minds in the least; it seems to be a decent brand, whatever it is, 'cause the tobacco is good and the paper's rolled tight. The weight of the band of weaponry across his chest hits him like a blow as it appears, but he shrugs it off. Anything's better than what he'd come in from and as entrances go, well...
Better a Comedian than an April Fool.
Giving him body armor, a bit more hair, a loaded shotgun, and a smiley face button? That is another matter entirely.
It's weird, of course, feeling his plaid shirt, his worn jeans, turn into leather and the shotgun in his hands getting heavier, some sort of special model that'll probably blow the shit out of whatever it's pointed at. The cigar in his mouth is a new one, but it's not something he minds in the least; it seems to be a decent brand, whatever it is, 'cause the tobacco is good and the paper's rolled tight. The weight of the band of weaponry across his chest hits him like a blow as it appears, but he shrugs it off. Anything's better than what he'd come in from and as entrances go, well...
Better a Comedian than an April Fool.
hunter-legend.livejournal.comMy head grew heavy and my sight grew dim
I had to stop for the night]
[warnings for language, etc. remember: john's in hell]
...because it can always get worse
Jan. 31st, 2008 10:56 amhunter-legend.livejournal.com[pre-milliways: If you get knocked down get up again / we ain't a-gonna grieve no more.]
It's a shock, having a body again. Between one step and another, even.
There's all these things you don't realize you feel, like the earth under your feet and the air against your skin and the clothing you're wearing and knots of muscle in your back and the grit in your eyes and the cold Coke can in your hand. Shit, it's even moist.
And it's a bigger shock to realize you're not in the body you've broken in, broken down, built up. There's no gray in this beard; hell, there's no beard. The muscles might be knotted but the bones haven't been cracked and broken and splintered. Everything seems new and fresh and God above, good. He has an arm and he can move it. He has feet and he can step. He has eyes and he closes them for a moment just because he can.
And it's great. It's... it's the greatest relief he's ever felt. Until he realizes where he is.
I can't tell them.
There's a slight misstep as he makes his way to the bar.
I can't tell them anything.
Just one.
I can't--
Before he sits at the counter and, feeling like it's all at once the most amazing and the most terrible thing in the world, makes his order.
No goodbyes. No help. I can't tell them what's to come. I can't tell them anything.
"Coffee."
[ooc: if your character is psychic, please ping][1:41pm: pause needed; work is being evil] [tentatively back; still at work, though]
It's a shock, having a body again. Between one step and another, even.
There's all these things you don't realize you feel, like the earth under your feet and the air against your skin and the clothing you're wearing and knots of muscle in your back and the grit in your eyes and the cold Coke can in your hand. Shit, it's even moist.
And it's a bigger shock to realize you're not in the body you've broken in, broken down, built up. There's no gray in this beard; hell, there's no beard. The muscles might be knotted but the bones haven't been cracked and broken and splintered. Everything seems new and fresh and God above, good. He has an arm and he can move it. He has feet and he can step. He has eyes and he closes them for a moment just because he can.
And it's great. It's... it's the greatest relief he's ever felt. Until he realizes where he is.
I can't tell them.
There's a slight misstep as he makes his way to the bar.
I can't tell them anything.
Just one.
I can't--
Before he sits at the counter and, feeling like it's all at once the most amazing and the most terrible thing in the world, makes his order.
No goodbyes. No help. I can't tell them what's to come. I can't tell them anything.
"Coffee."
[ooc: if your character is psychic, please ping]
(no subject)
Dec. 23rd, 2007 09:40 pmgavemea_45OOM: [In my time of dying, want nobody to mourn
All I want for you to do is take my body home.]
[Warning for character death.]
All I want for you to do is take my body home.]
[Warning for character death.]
hunter-legend.livejournal.com[warnings for language and the use of the word 'Swayze' as a verb]
(no subject)
Nov. 16th, 2007 04:44 pmgavemea_45[OOM: Trouble on the way.]
[Continued warnings for violence and trauma. Welcome to Supernatural, season two.]
[Continued warnings for violence and trauma. Welcome to Supernatural, season two.]
(no subject)
Nov. 14th, 2007 10:31 pmgavemea_45[OOM: There's a bad moon on the rise.]
[Warnings for whitetext, violence, and trauma. Spoilers for the end of season one of Supernatural.]
[Warnings for whitetext, violence, and trauma. Spoilers for the end of season one of Supernatural.]
(no subject)
Nov. 5th, 2007 05:53 pmlissla-lissar.livejournal.comAsh, Ob, and Meadowsweet are with Lissar tonight, the others sleeping upstairs. The woman herself is working through books on automobiles, slowly and with much sounding-out of words in hope that context will make them make sense.
Often context fails her.
Often context fails her.
(no subject)
Nov. 1st, 2007 07:47 amgavemea_45[OOM: The brothers hit the road again, this time following a lead to Manning, Colorado. Turns out they're not the only ones to do so.
Unfortunately, some reunions are anything but easy.]
Unfortunately, some reunions are anything but easy.]
Someone hasn't noticed the change.
Oct. 31st, 2007 09:17 pmhunter-legend.livejournal.comHe was sitting in the bar proper when Halloween came, so the change just sort of happened. Too much coffee and too little sleep, too many words and most of them blurring too often for him to trust anything he sees before checking it again.
His hands look a little different, but he's not looking at his hands.
His hair's different, but he hasn't concerned himself with that for ages.
His eyes...
Now those. Those're different. But there isn't a mirror around, really. So no, he hasn't noticed.
His hands look a little different, but he's not looking at his hands.
His hair's different, but he hasn't concerned himself with that for ages.
His eyes...
Now those. Those're different. But there isn't a mirror around, really. So no, he hasn't noticed.
(no subject)
Oct. 29th, 2007 09:48 pmhunter-legend.livejournal.comGuess who's in a booth?
...yeah, if you can see him behind the charts and papers and tomes, feel free to say hi. Otherwise, keep walking.
...yeah, if you can see him behind the charts and papers and tomes, feel free to say hi. Otherwise, keep walking.
