hadriel_logs | God Bless Us Every One; (CLOSED)

Entry tags:

God Bless Us Every One; (CLOSED)

Who: Dean Winchester, Pellaz Cevarro, George Lass, Jo Harvelle
What: Jo has two goals: apologizing and introducing Dean to a few of her housemates ~~that he already might know~~
Where: House 1402
When: 10/6
Warnings: Language, maybe?

Jo had been avoiding Dean since the paintball event because she felt guilty as hell for shooting him in the back. She didn't even shoot monsters in the back, and Dean was...well.

She sent him two pictures, one, a pot of stew and a pie crust off in the corner, and two, the location of the house. Hopefully he got the message. She might be apologizing, but she wasn't about to beg him to come.

A few minutes later she sends a text to Pell and George, inviting them down because she definitely made too much food. Plus, it was a good idea for Dean to know who to contact in case of an emergency, right?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Does Dean being a 5 year old at heart count? ]

Arm wrestling. If I lose, you get a piece; if I win, you have to give me yours.

[ sounds fair to him ]

[eyes his arms and makes a point of eying her own]

...I think the odds are slightly in your favor in an arm wrestling contest.

[totes not fair]

[ he grins ]

Then what would you suggest? If you're gonna say thumb war, I have to say no. I've been in games where people have tried breaking their arms in order to win.

[ well, not quite, but it did lead to an impromptu wrestling match. ]

[she grins back]

No, I think the odds are in your favor in a thumb war, too. I was gonna suggest a drinking contest.

[a wrestling match? out of thumb war?]

Do we even have enough booze for that? I've seen you drink, you know.

[ She can certainly hold her own. She didn't even seem tipsy at all the last time they drank together. And they were dumb teenagers. It's kind of what you do. At least he didn't start throwing punches. ]

We might, hidden away. I wound up stealing two bottles of whiskey from the party.

[she can drink enough to kill a mortal, so it really wouldn't be fair. and at least she didn't attempt flirting? keyword being: attempt]

[ there's no failing at flirting as far as Dean concerns. There's merely getting laid or not getting laid. Which is always the other person's loss. ]

Only two?

[ Dean may have stolen quite a bit more. He had plenty of time to plot and plan and figure out how to carry it all too ]

[well, since George is the virginest virgin to ever virgin, she's failed at flirting]

That was all I could fit in my bag if I wanted to take other stuff, too.

[she would be curious to know how he achieved that]

[ maybe she just needs a little nudge in the right direction with the right kind of guy. Or girl. She did say she had that thing for the one gal. ]

I guess you have a point. Especially since you can get free booze for the price of walking to the bar.

[ he shrugged ]

So about that pie. We're arm wrestling for it, right?

[ whoever said Dean meant to be fair? ]

[well, she disappeared ~~but is apparently being reapped, so who knows?~~]

I know, right? I don't even have to show my fake ID. Takes some of the fun out of underage drinking.

[she raises an eyebrow]

No. Because you would win. And there has to be enough for Jo and Pell, too.

[ that's the problem with doors of chaos and what not. No one sticks around long enough to actually get screwed.

He barks out a laugh. ]

Maybe we should ask the bartender to at least put up a show of looking. Even if we do know he's just gonna let you have the booze.

[ he paused ]

All right. Then let's just do rock, paper, scissors. No one throws up and no one has to break a limb to win.

[ Or maybe he'll just steal the pie when George ain't looking. ]

[it wreaks havoc with one's social life, it's true]

Maybe? But then maybe the Guard will stick their noses in things and say that they should enforce the drinking age. Which would suck for me, I'm never gonna be older than eighteen.

Works for me.

[she is going to watch that pie like a hawk]

[ he blinked ]

Why not? Are you going to tell me now that Time doesn't actually work here?

[ although that works for Dean. He's rather enjoyed his twenties. ]

--oh, shit. Did I forget to tell you? I'm--well, I'm a Grim Reaper. I died when I was eighteen, so I'm never gonna get any older. So far as I know, everyone else ages normally.

[while George is stuck as an awkward eighteen year old girl forever]

—

[ he stares ]

[ and then cleans out an ear with one finger ]

I'm sorry. Did I just hear you say that you're a walking, talking, breathing agent of Death? Because while I've meet a few of you before, usually you don't sit down and have a beer with me.

[ Plus George has a sense of humor. The grim reaper he'd met didn't exactly do jokes very well. ]

You heard right. But I wouldn't call it an agent, more like an employee. One with no pay, no benefits, and shitty working hours.

[Rube and Roxy didn't have a sense of humor. Mason did, but maybe that's because he was constantly high. and the less said about Daisy, the better]

So you're saying you could quit the gig whenever you wanted?

[ he shook his head ]

That still doesn't sound like a good way to make a living. You definitely ain't going to make too many friends on the job either.

[ because, you know, no one wants to die. Not really. Not even if they think they do. ]

No, not exactly. I mean, I could just not show up at Der Waffle Haus and get my assignment, but Rube would find me and give it to me, anyway.

[George shrugs]

There was Betty. She was another Reaper. Then she kind of--hitched a ride into someone else's afterlife. But she was my friend.

[ he raised an eyebrow ]

She hitched a ride? I didn't realize that the dead enjoyed hitch-hiking.

[ although he should've guessed. If George was a reaper, that'd have to mean there was some messed up red-tape going on in the background. ]

You ever still see this Betty or did she move on permanently? [ not that she'd be seeing her anyway, but still. ]

...I think Betty was just sick of it. Reaping, I mean. Because they tell you that someday, you're going to reach your quota of souls taken and get to move on, but she was tired of waiting for it.

[red tape, bureaucracy, and post-it notes]

No. I never saw her again.

[what goes unsaid is that George still misses her. a lot]

[ he hopes those sticky-notes were at least the pretty, neon colored kind. With cats or something on 'em. ]

Ah. Well. [ now he's done it ] Guess that means she's happy then. Or at least we can hope. [ right? So happy she can't send a message or something??? Who knows how that stuff works. ]

[no, they were plain pale yellow post-its with the info written on them in black pen. or sometimes black sharpie]

...I hope she is. I hope it was worth it.

[the door to the afterlife goes only one way and that's in]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

God Bless Us Every One; (CLOSED)

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

1/2

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject