(Untitled)

[longnowmods]

WHO: OPEN LOG, multiple threads welcome
WHAT: Lewis/Pond wedding reception/a ball/a party
WHERE: the ballroom
WHEN: Saturday evening, right before the event ends

Comments

FFFF, I apologize so hard for this.

[mulletrockking]

[Dean enters the ballroom slowly, one eyebrow twitching slightly in trepidation. He's bloody, bruised, and his nose is crooked and swelling like crazy, and he looks like he just went nine rounds with a weedwhacker and lost.

But that's okay, as he cautiously makes his way into the room, keeping an eye out for a certain bigfoot in spy's clothing. Sam might have made his fancy get away with his fancy smoking marble and crap, but Dean's not done with him yet. Whether he wants to beat on him or bitch at him some more, he's not sure, but he's just...Not done.

Instead, he finds himself drifting away from girly decorations, the realization slowly dawning on him that it's the kind of thing you'd see at a wedding. Not that he's been to many...Or any, that he can really recall at the moment, and the throbbing of his face is making it slightly hard to think. Instead, he drifts closer and closer to the buffet, and despite himself, catches himself eyeballing what's there.

He...Hasn't eaten in a while.

And he knows he shouldn't trust the food.

But is-

Is there pie at the other end? Because he can swear that looks like pie. In response, and despite the pain it causes, his stomach gurgles insistently, and he moves a little closer, looking around himself to see if anyone's looking at him. Satisfied that he seems to be going unnoticed, he slides right up to that pie, the fingers of one hand walking coyly over the girly table cloth before tapping lightly at the knife there. Just...Maybe just one little piece.

It's been a while since he's had pie and...Well, he is hungry.

Another glance around and he picks up the knife, focusing his attention on the golden crusted beauty before him. Just...One little piece, and then he'll hunt down Sam.]