idefk. Went to tag this meme and I saw you and I was all ASKFADJ. /HAVE MANY APOLOGIESbamfparkerDecember 13 2011, 13:09:45 UTC
[Parker was sipping at a bottle of beer; she drank lightly, but mostly drowned herself in thrills and adrenaline. Entirely possibly a more dangerous past-time than whiskey or whatever other variety of intoxicants floated around between people trying to forget. A task made harder by the Death Machines, by the little stations eerily immune to the creeping desolation of the world that handed out tickets in block letters that got tucked in secret drawers and locked boxes. It was easier not to know, but, since when did most people take the easy way
( ... )
hahah naaah no apologies necessary, dude :PheavenonhighDecember 14 2011, 03:50:11 UTC
[Cas looks up from the teabag he'd been dipping in and out of his steaming mug for the past few minutes. Don't look at him like that, he's extremely hungover and the thought of anything harder than the Celestial Seasonings in his hands is making him want to die.]
The ones that tell you how you're gonna die?
[He hates those things. The world's gone to shit around them, cities burned to the ground, earthquakes swallowing town after town, populations decimated by the disease... Not to mention the destruction caused by demons faced with fewer and fewer humans to torment. And yet those boxes seem totally untouched by any of it, happily stationed all over the country- all over the world, actually, as far as he's aware- dark obelisks of mortality sitting at the corners of darker streets... He hates those things.
Oh, goodie good. Random Parker is Random.bamfparkerDecember 14 2011, 05:34:43 UTC
Yeah. Those ones!
[Parker is far too excited about the subject for good taste. Of course, letting Parker overhear anything usually discussed in whispers, is a good way to guarantee that Cass is likely going to be on the receiving end of Parker being awkward.
Her feet are swinging, and she is sort of aware of Cass' misery, she just doesn't have an easily accessible solution. She perks up when he mentions that he has tried it, though. A crooked (creepy?) smile curving over her lips.]
I haven't. How are you going to die?
[She then rattles off a few rather gory and unfortunately believable ways for the human-turned-angel to die. All of this with a disturbing amount of enthusiasm about the whole thing.]
[He smiles faintly as he takes a cautious sip of his tea, leaning back in his chair to look at her. She looks almost excited, which is odd to be sure but he's not really fazed by it. After a few months he's gotten used to her eccentricities, even grown to enjoy them. He has a certain fondness for the socially inept, having been there before himself- he still has his moments, fewer and farther between though they may be.
...Not that it makes the horrible ways she's come up with for him to die any less morbid; he himself hadn't thought of quite so many ways to be mutilated by croates, but then Parker does seem to have quite the imagination for these things... Unsurprising but still a bit jarring. He shakes his head.]
Nothing like that, no. I think I managed to confuse it, I've tried it a few times and every time it gives me a different answer.
[None of them are particularly pleasant, but he's in a sharing mood and she seems to be more interested than the average person, so he continues.]
Pond makes me think of the thread with drowned!Cass, hahaha. :DbamfparkerDecember 14 2011, 20:53:39 UTC
[Yes, well, Parker is a bit damaged. In the same way that Dean is 'a bit' damaged, even if her upbringing had more bad people and bad situations, less ghosts and demons and werewolves. She watches Cass, rapt and attentive as he tells her about the ways the strange death machines have predicted he'll die.
There's something strange for a moment, a slash of something in her eyes when Cass says fratricide. It's in the way her forehead creases and her eyebrows pull together. Her lips thin, shoulders curl, and it's a rather surprising flash of emotion from someone so eternally emotionally disconnected, even if it's gone almost as quickly as it was there.
She settles for trying not to think about it.]
How do you break your heart?
[She seems perplexed at the very idea, or at least it's a more pleasant thing to think about than childhood memories. And she's looking at Cass in that pointed sort of way that demands answers.]
Hahahaa you know I wasn't even thinking that, but it totally makes sense XD my braaaainheavenonhighDecember 15 2011, 03:18:31 UTC
[He notices that flash in her eyes when he mentions familial violence; he's sober, and with sobriety comes that sharpness in perception that he tries so hard to dull with the drugs and the alcohol. Most of the time, he'd rather not see. But he doesn't comment on it, only looks down into his mug to blow at the hot liquid, distract himself as he watches the steam roll away.
He'll stick to answering questions instead of asking them, for now.]
Take away my drugs, most likely.
[...But no one ever said anything about an honest answer, especially not about that. There are only a few possible things, anyway. His family leaving him behind had been heartbreaking, but it hadn't killed him- not completely, anyway- and he's already lost almost everything he's ever had.
And that leaves just the one thing left, really, one glaring, horribly obvious loss substantial enough to push him over the edge... And he's not talking about that. He's too sober for that conversation.]
I'm more curious about POND, to be honest. What the fuck? Who dies
( ... )
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
( ... )
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
( ... )
[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
( ... )
[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
( ... )
Reply
Reply
The ones that tell you how you're gonna die?
[He hates those things. The world's gone to shit around them, cities burned to the ground, earthquakes swallowing town after town, populations decimated by the disease... Not to mention the destruction caused by demons faced with fewer and fewer humans to torment. And yet those boxes seem totally untouched by any of it, happily stationed all over the country- all over the world, actually, as far as he's aware- dark obelisks of mortality sitting at the corners of darker streets... He hates those things.
Doesn't mean he hasn't tried them, though.]
Mm. Have you?
Reply
[Parker is far too excited about the subject for good taste. Of course, letting Parker overhear anything usually discussed in whispers, is a good way to guarantee that Cass is likely going to be on the receiving end of Parker being awkward.
Her feet are swinging, and she is sort of aware of Cass' misery, she just doesn't have an easily accessible solution. She perks up when he mentions that he has tried it, though. A crooked (creepy?) smile curving over her lips.]
I haven't. How are you going to die?
[She then rattles off a few rather gory and unfortunately believable ways for the human-turned-angel to die. All of this with a disturbing amount of enthusiasm about the whole thing.]
Reply
...Not that it makes the horrible ways she's come up with for him to die any less morbid; he himself hadn't thought of quite so many ways to be mutilated by croates, but then Parker does seem to have quite the imagination for these things... Unsurprising but still a bit jarring. He shakes his head.]
Nothing like that, no. I think I managed to confuse it, I've tried it a few times and every time it gives me a different answer.
[None of them are particularly pleasant, but he's in a sharing mood and she seems to be more interested than the average person, so he continues.]
First time it was FRATRICIDE. ( ... )
Reply
There's something strange for a moment, a slash of something in her eyes when Cass says fratricide. It's in the way her forehead creases and her eyebrows pull together. Her lips thin, shoulders curl, and it's a rather surprising flash of emotion from someone so eternally emotionally disconnected, even if it's gone almost as quickly as it was there.
She settles for trying not to think about it.]
How do you break your heart?
[She seems perplexed at the very idea, or at least it's a more pleasant thing to think about than childhood memories. And she's looking at Cass in that pointed sort of way that demands answers.]
Reply
He'll stick to answering questions instead of asking them, for now.]
Take away my drugs, most likely.
[...But no one ever said anything about an honest answer, especially not about that. There are only a few possible things, anyway. His family leaving him behind had been heartbreaking, but it hadn't killed him- not completely, anyway- and he's already lost almost everything he's ever had.
And that leaves just the one thing left, really, one glaring, horribly obvious loss substantial enough to push him over the edge... And he's not talking about that. He's too sober for that conversation.]
I'm more curious about POND, to be honest. What the fuck? Who dies ( ... )
Reply
Reply
[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 ( ... )
Reply
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 ( ... )
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 ( ... )
Reply
Leave a comment