I'm glaaad XD guh I am feeling like ass so I apologize for shitty tag =/heavenonhighDecember 16 2011, 01:15:15 UTC
It could happen.
[Sobriety is the leading cause of a desire to hurl yourself into a horde of croates; it's not impossible.
He listens, nodding, as she supplies numerous sickeningly possible causes of death by POND.]
So all I really need to do is avoid small bodies of water, winter, and libraries? That's not so bad.
[He takes a large gulp of his tea. He can't swim and he hates the cold anyway, he'd happily accept both as things to avoid. Libraries, well... It's not that he doesn't enjoy reading, but they're not the first place he checks out when they hit a new area. He can just send someone else in to brave the killer books for him, he supposes.
Not that he has any intention of setting much store by a slip of paper from a vending machine in the first place. He's a bit surprised when she suggests going to find one, though he probably shouldn't be. There's really no reason he can see not to-- hungover or not he'd rather be out doing something to take his mind off the fact that he'd used the last of his stash and is going to be toughing it out for the next few days, and so he nods.
Maybe if he's lucky, they'll find something on their search for a Death Machine.]
Why not? I'll give it another shot myself, see if it's decided how I'm gonna kick it yet.
No apologies nessecary! Your tag is fiiiine! bamfparkerDecember 16 2011, 05:49:39 UTC
[Parker grins and looks far too excited at the concept of going out to find one of the machines together. And if they're lucky? Maybe there will be a good excuse for her adrenaline junkie behaviors. And if they're really lucky? Maybe Cass can find some more pills to last him the few days until the next supply run. Parker actually has a small stash of drugs, but it's things they used to use to work over a Mark. Switching allergy pills for amphetamines, opiates crushed and slipped into a cup of coffee... Chloroform for those special emergencies. It just didn't occur to her to share, or else she would have.]
Oh, can I drive?
[She looks gleefully hopeful. Dean never lets her drive. Which might be because he'd let her drive once. Given that Parker had learned how to drive as a getaway driver for bank heists as a disturbingly small child using books to reach the pedals, well, she rattled the girls in the car. Who knew that rickety jeep could hit 120?
She's standing up, going for the bag that she keeps her supplies in. A couple guns, but more importantly than that, her rig, and all the things she could need to figure out something fun to do while they're out. On the more useful note, also pretty much anything they could need to get out of any situation that doesn't immediately kill them. Parker is a survivor. It's why she's still here.]
[He pauses. He's heard stories about what happens when Parker gets behind the wheel... But then again, he's not exactly the safest of drivers; if he's not high he's... Well, more high. It's a wonder he hasn't pulled JEEP from the Machines yet. Maybe today's the day.]
Sure, knock yourself out.
[He's not really in the mood for driving anyway.
Shoving some of the more useless things from his bed, he locates his handgun, which he drops into his bag, along with a bottle of water or two and some jerky. Given the choice he wouldn't touch the stuff with a ten foot pole, but it's all that's left in his cabin aside from twinkies and twinkies will only get them so far if they happen to get stuck somewhere for a few days. Never can be too careful.
All that's left is his tea; he downs it quickly and plunks the mug down on the table as he shoulders his bag and glances at Parker.]
[Parker is of the opinion that the stories were a little unfair. Okay, sure, her driving might have been too fast and reckless, even by Dean's standards, but had she gotten them out, despite being boxed in by Croates? And no one had died, even if a few people had been rattled once they'd gotten back. She grins brightly, an eager gleam to her eyes when Cass says she can drive.
Parker has a box of Twinkies in her kit, so she's got them covered on that angle. She was never too good at eating decent before the world went to Hell, however she's not too fond of jerky. But, desperate situations all too often seem to be how things go.]
Just a second.
[She grabs the black bodysuit she wears whenever she goes out. And then proceeds to strip out of her clothes without a single thought. Dean had tried to talk to Parker about modesty once. Given the fact that she just didn't get it, he'd given up about halfway through. Shirt comes off, then her denims, and then she's dragging body hugging black fabric up over her slim frame. She pulls on her good boots, a jacket and tosses her bag over her shoulder as she heads for the door.]
What do you think mine will say?
[Parker isn't intentionally morbid, it just kind of happens.]
[He sees it coming when she reaches for the bodysuit; out of respect and not a little awkwardness he turns around as she changes out of her camp clothes and into her 'I'm about to do something crazy' clothes. It's not that he doesn't want to look, and if it had been anyone else he probably would have, but it's Parker and there's an innocence there that stops him cold.
He follows her outside once she's decent- or as decent as you can be in a skin-tight body suit- and shrugs.]
Honestly, I have no idea. Seems like they were built to make people think, like riddles. You could get COTTON CANDY and it'd make sense somewhere down the line.
[He tosses his bag into the back of the jeep and hops up into the passenger side, setting into the worn and bloodstained seat. The sky is grey, dark and moody and Cas snorts. It would be that way when he has nothing to brighten it; he really wishes he had a joint right about now. Shaking his head, he turns to Parker.]
[Parker tosses her bag into the back of the Jeep along with Cass', nodding as the former-angel compares the death tickets to riddles. She spares a glance around, a quirk of her lips at the sky that's dark and a little foreboding. If Parker was the smart kind, she'd probably think that the two of them alone, venturing out to hell-knows-where, might not be the brightest idea.
But, she's not. And so, she swings herself into the driver's seat with a smile, turning the key. Her excitement is ill-contained, a faint almost glow as she starts to pull away from Camp and onto the road.]
Not really. You have any ideas?
[She was just planning on heading toward where the cluster of what had once been office buildings were. Not too far from camp, and seemed as good a place as any to find one of the little death machines with their ominous block lettering spelling out how you would die.]
[He glances over at Parker in the driver's seat, a faint smile on his lips; she's so clearly excited about being able to drive, or maybe about having an excuse to leave the camp- whatever it may be it's a good look for her and Cas is actually glad they'd decided to take this little trip. Even if it is a decidedly morbid venture.]
Uh... I hadn't really given it much thought, actually. Why don't we just see where the road takes us? Those things are everywhere, we should come across a few eventually.
[They'd managed to uproot the few that had been closest to the camp- it's bad for morale when half of the papers dispensed to survivors read things like FRIENDLY FIRE or DINNER, and so they'd done their best to destroy them. Cas had half expected them to just regenerate or multiply like the heads of a hydra, but they'd stayed just the way they'd been left: smashed and useless husks of dark metal and glass. Now the only people at the camp who have the opportunity to try them out are the ones stupid enough to go looking for more machines...
Closing his eyes, he leans back against the headrest and lets the wind blowing in through the windows ruffle his hair; it feels a lot nicer stoned but this isn't bad, not at all.]
[Sobriety is the leading cause of a desire to hurl yourself into a horde of croates; it's not impossible.
He listens, nodding, as she supplies numerous sickeningly possible causes of death by POND.]
So all I really need to do is avoid small bodies of water, winter, and libraries? That's not so bad.
[He takes a large gulp of his tea. He can't swim and he hates the cold anyway, he'd happily accept both as things to avoid. Libraries, well... It's not that he doesn't enjoy reading, but they're not the first place he checks out when they hit a new area. He can just send someone else in to brave the killer books for him, he supposes.
Not that he has any intention of setting much store by a slip of paper from a vending machine in the first place. He's a bit surprised when she suggests going to find one, though he probably shouldn't be. There's really no reason he can see not to-- hungover or not he'd rather be out doing something to take his mind off the fact that he'd used the last of his stash and is going to be toughing it out for the next few days, and so he nods.
Maybe if he's lucky, they'll find something on their search for a Death Machine.]
Why not? I'll give it another shot myself, see if it's decided how I'm gonna kick it yet.
Reply
Oh, can I drive?
[She looks gleefully hopeful. Dean never lets her drive. Which might be because he'd let her drive once. Given that Parker had learned how to drive as a getaway driver for bank heists as a disturbingly small child using books to reach the pedals, well, she rattled the girls in the car. Who knew that rickety jeep could hit 120?
She's standing up, going for the bag that she keeps her supplies in. A couple guns, but more importantly than that, her rig, and all the things she could need to figure out something fun to do while they're out. On the more useful note, also pretty much anything they could need to get out of any situation that doesn't immediately kill them. Parker is a survivor. It's why she's still here.]
Reply
Sure, knock yourself out.
[He's not really in the mood for driving anyway.
Shoving some of the more useless things from his bed, he locates his handgun, which he drops into his bag, along with a bottle of water or two and some jerky. Given the choice he wouldn't touch the stuff with a ten foot pole, but it's all that's left in his cabin aside from twinkies and twinkies will only get them so far if they happen to get stuck somewhere for a few days. Never can be too careful.
All that's left is his tea; he downs it quickly and plunks the mug down on the table as he shoulders his bag and glances at Parker.]
Ready to roll when you are.
Reply
Parker has a box of Twinkies in her kit, so she's got them covered on that angle. She was never too good at eating decent before the world went to Hell, however she's not too fond of jerky. But, desperate situations all too often seem to be how things go.]
Just a second.
[She grabs the black bodysuit she wears whenever she goes out. And then proceeds to strip out of her clothes without a single thought. Dean had tried to talk to Parker about modesty once. Given the fact that she just didn't get it, he'd given up about halfway through. Shirt comes off, then her denims, and then she's dragging body hugging black fabric up over her slim frame. She pulls on her good boots, a jacket and tosses her bag over her shoulder as she heads for the door.]
What do you think mine will say?
[Parker isn't intentionally morbid, it just kind of happens.]
Reply
He follows her outside once she's decent- or as decent as you can be in a skin-tight body suit- and shrugs.]
Honestly, I have no idea. Seems like they were built to make people think, like riddles. You could get COTTON CANDY and it'd make sense somewhere down the line.
[He tosses his bag into the back of the jeep and hops up into the passenger side, setting into the worn and bloodstained seat. The sky is grey, dark and moody and Cas snorts. It would be that way when he has nothing to brighten it; he really wishes he had a joint right about now. Shaking his head, he turns to Parker.]
Any idea where we're headed?
Reply
But, she's not. And so, she swings herself into the driver's seat with a smile, turning the key. Her excitement is ill-contained, a faint almost glow as she starts to pull away from Camp and onto the road.]
Not really. You have any ideas?
[She was just planning on heading toward where the cluster of what had once been office buildings were. Not too far from camp, and seemed as good a place as any to find one of the little death machines with their ominous block lettering spelling out how you would die.]
Reply
Uh... I hadn't really given it much thought, actually. Why don't we just see where the road takes us? Those things are everywhere, we should come across a few eventually.
[They'd managed to uproot the few that had been closest to the camp- it's bad for morale when half of the papers dispensed to survivors read things like FRIENDLY FIRE or DINNER, and so they'd done their best to destroy them. Cas had half expected them to just regenerate or multiply like the heads of a hydra, but they'd stayed just the way they'd been left: smashed and useless husks of dark metal and glass. Now the only people at the camp who have the opportunity to try them out are the ones stupid enough to go looking for more machines...
Closing his eyes, he leans back against the headrest and lets the wind blowing in through the windows ruffle his hair; it feels a lot nicer stoned but this isn't bad, not at all.]
Reply
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