badfic_manor | Entries tagged with dean winchester

[If you go down to the woods today, or just anywhere around the lake area, you'll find someone out a-hunting with a hand-made looking blade in hand. Dean's taking this plot a little too well, now covered in blood and mud. Not all too unlike when he'd first appeared in the manor, actually.

He'd roamed around town for a few days, and tried to find some of the most active spots. And this is it, for him. It's all too reminiscent of where he'd spent the year in purgatory... and he likes it a little bit. okay, maybe more than a little bit. Out here, he easily gets lost in the flashbacks as he fights alongside them, the trees, the monsters, everything. It's all similar enough for him to forget about that 'struggling to adjust' thing and just get lost in the memories of the past year; reminisce on the purity of it. Probably not a healthy thing to do. He doesn't care.

As the foliage rustles behind him, his hand grips around the bone handle and he turns to face whatever it is. The corner of his lips turn up in anticipation.]

Bring it on.

[He's far from done yet as the last body by his feet turn to ash. And possibly the only one kind of enjoying this week.]

has_a_phd_in_teddybear

[If you're in the kitchen on the night of the twelfth, you're about to get one hell of a surprise.

The room glows a bright white, and Dean comes falling out of the source of the light - a portal on the wall. He's dirty, he's bloody, and he looks like he hasn't slept properly in a year. the eyes are harder as he looks around the room trying to figure out where the hell he is, disorientated from the journey and sure as hell not expecting the portal to lead into somebody's kitchen.

He was going to have to have words with-- oh, shit. It registers he can't feel that second soul, which is odd because he'd been an impatient and restless son of a bitch.

First: He had to figure out where he was. Then he could figure out where the fuck Benny went. or just maybe hopping the soul train hadn't worked for him after all... goddamn it.]

has_a_phd_in_teddybear

[there's some rustling, the sound of the comm being dropped, and something else hitting the wall, followed by the sound of two small items skittering across the floor.]

No more goddamned pills. Just Get. Me. A drink.

Mr. Winchester, we are going to have to ask that you calm your-

Screw you.

[There's a tutting from his nurse, and then she moves over to near the comm. She can clearly heard muttering to herself something about Barbiturates. Then there's rustling again as she picks up his comm.]

You knocked this off of the stand in your temper there.

Like I give a damn. [Is the short response. So she flicks off the audio feed before putting it back on the bedside table.]

has_a_phd_in_teddybear

[He's only been back a few hours, and That? Is not going to stop this guy getting in trouble. Especially when he's been brought back for this event nicely de!aged to high-school age.]

Winchester.

[Yup. That is the sound of a pissed off NPC teacher. It's a testament to his ability to try the patience of those in 'authority' that he's managed to get her that riled. Doubley so if you consider that he's only been back and awake for a couple of hours.]

Don't sweat it, sugar. I'm blowing this joint in a few anyway. There's only one reason I'm still here right now.

[Looking smug, his eyes drift over to one of the boobed and blonded NPC's. It doesn't matter that she's not even real. He's been hormone charged to the power of infinity.]

I said focus.

I am. Just not on what you want me to.

[That is the sound of a ruler snapping against a desk, the class in uproar, and don't mind him as he strolls out amongst the chaos with the blonde he was looking at earlier as the feed shuts off.

...now... there has to be a supply closet around here somewhere...]

has_a_phd_in_teddybear

[Okay, it feels like he's slept for a week. Glance around... this is... creepily like his room as a child. Not that he's complaining, rally. It just feels... weird. At least there's a full-size bed...

Head out of the door, and glancing down the hall. Okie dokie then. This place feels... vaguely familiar, even if he can't remember being here. Back into his room, reach for the phone, and...]

I'm going to guess this is the manor then? Guess it could be worse.

has_a_phd_in_teddybear

[He's found one of the dealer stalls after venturing out of his room to have a look around. He's glaring down at a table, laden with series memoribilia. There's multiple copies of John Winchester's Journal on sale, as well as replicant amulets, hunting charms and bracelets (one of which he picks up, checks for the hallmarks to say it's real silver, which surprisingly this one is - which would be why it cost the earth). His heart catches in his chest as he sees a book, a post-it note on the cover illustration emblazoned Sam and Dean READ THIS NOW!!

The handwriting was so familiar, it was painful.

He reached out and picked up the book, titled "Bobby Singer's guide to hunting", one of the 'journal's, and one of the hunting charm braclets. Charm braclet for mom, and the other two because they couldn't really be... Could they? The fact that they might be, the fact that the amulets (but not the real one) were there, everything about that table pissed him off. And with a bunch of reminders of the family he doesn't have anymore? on top of being pissed off, it means he simply kicks over the table when the guy asks for money to pay for the shit he picked up. He wasn't paying for his crap, and especially not copies of his crap (but this... he had to check if they were the real thing, or made up.) The guy, understandably, gets pissed, but Dean is not in a talking mood right now. So he simply gives the NPC a square right hook, and walks away.

About 30 yards away, you'll find a small four year old in danger of being caught in the crush of the crowd, clutching onto the books he'd had in his hands when he'd changed. At least the author was nice enough to let you not have the clothing of a kid to sort out, de-sizing his outfit with him. ~~But you could always humiliate him by putting him in cosplay anyway...~~]

has_a_phd_in_teddybear

[This is a familiar face to some in the manor, and not so familar to others. Not that they're in the manor at the minute. He awakens in his tent, rolling over with a confused look.

Well. This is... odd. He sure as hell KNOWS he wasn't in a tent last night. No, he was...

He suddenly rolls over, and sticks his head out of the door.]

...What the hell?

[This? is not purgatory. By the looks of things. He slowly stands, and looks around him from the centre of the camp.]

Where the hell is this?

100deaths-a-day.livejournal.com

[The sound of the comm hitting the floor is the first thing that you can hear. Then what sounds like a herd of people jabbering in latin. Anyone who understands Latin will get snatches of conversation about the cake and who's to wake him up.

That's right, the author has organised a birthday party for Dean, and is not letting him sleep late and be all withdrawn as he would like to today. She's provided him with party guests that are correct for this time period. this means he's had women and male, young and old enter his room to give him an enthusiastic and hedonistic celebration.

The first noise actually made by Dean was] s'm, I swear to God if you poke me one-

[He broke off the mumbled and sleep-muzzed sentence as he realised two things:
(A) that it was not Sam poking him.
(B) Sam's not even here.]

What the hell are you doing in my room?!

[Which goes unanswered. They just start... well, you can't see what thy're doing, but Dean's protesting a little, and "Get off" is growled more than once. Then there's a pause before:] Look, if you're going to keep frigging touching me, at least let it be the la- WOAH. DON'T TOUCH ME THERE, I'M PRETTY DAMNED SURE THAT IS ILLEGAL.

.....And I don't even swing that way.

[He's been violated by the worst possible person, and he decides now would be a good time to call for rescue. He reaches for the blackberry and... realises... the damned thing has been recording.] Son of a- of course it would be. Damned thing, I'm gonna- [You never hear what he's going to do to the blackberry, because the record is turned off. Whether it's by him or someone else? Unclear.]

100deaths-a-day.livejournal.com

[Dean had been sent home, again, and this time moved forwards. When he arrives here again, he jolts awake against the side of the Impala. He doesn't realise that his face, which had been broken by a furious Lucifer before Sam took control,hurt less than he should - the broken bones having been healed enough to leave him just swollen and bruised to high hell.

Hell, it takes him at least five seconds of staring straight ahead that he's no longer in Stull Cemetery at all.

The realisation that he's back in the manor sets an unbidden flutter of hope going in his chest. He'd rather ignore it, but he can't. Sam was here - badly broken, but here. He moved quickly, back to their room, but stopped short when he could read the nameplate. Sam's name had gone from it. No, No, No, he had to be in there still. That flutter of hope fully extinguished as he pushed the door open, and saw just the one bed, the way it had been before Sam was here. He sat on the bed heavily, pushing his hands back through his hair, trying to get some semblance of himself together before picking up the comm.

He cleared his throat, trying to shift the lump that had formed there before flicking the audio feed on.] It's too much to ask that Sam's just in another room, right? [And there was... next to no emotion in that voice, no hope he was wrong and Sam had just been moved, nothing.

It was better for no emotions than the sadness that was ripping him apart.]

( Audio :: private to Mary )

100deaths-a-day.livejournal.com

[After the past few weeks of mayhem - but not in a bad way - the lull of activity here this week has left him bored. He's wandering around the manor trying to find something to do when he finds himself in the room with the instruments on impulse.

Even stranger is when he finds himself wanting to go over and pick up the damned cello. Maybe it was this swap thing everybody's on about. He knew damned well what he'd lost, and he wouldn't take it back if he had any say. But he knew he didn't.

Ah well, may as well just enjoy the time without it, he guesses.

Following his instincts on this one, he walks over, picks up the cello, and just starts off by running a few random notes into one another. He realises he doesn't even have to familiarise himself with the instrument; he already knows it.

Well, huh.] May as well get something decent out of this, seeing as I drew the crappy straw. [He says to no-one in particular, before he starts to play a song.

Enjoy the sounds of Metallica's 'master of puppets' as the notes drift through the manor.]

100deaths-a-day.livejournal.com

( Drug mention *BUT NO USAGE* )

hunter-returns.livejournal.com

((Slightly forward dated to Oktoberfest plot, feel free to tag either brother))

[It hadn't taken Dean very long at all to drag Sam out of the hotel room and to a bar. Sat at a table, Sam flipped the video on accidentally as he put his blackberry on the table, just as Dean spoke.]

This I can get on board with, Sammy: Beer and Bar wenches.

Dude, I told you last time: The bar wench thing doesn't go down well anymore.[But Sam's got a small smile tugging his lips. It was almost like normal. He could deal with normal.

Dude, Oktoberfest. It doesn't count. [He'd already eaten to stop Sam bitching about drinking on an empty stomach. so he raised his voice a little] Bar Wench? Another two! [Pause] Wait, last time?

[Sam chuckled, and rolled his eyes. Okay, he'll go with this. Yep. Almost like normal. It was good, or, as good as they were going to get, probably.] Never mind. Remind me why we're drinking at this time of the day again?

Dude. [It's Dean's turn to roll his eyes this time as two heroically sized tankards of dark beer were deposited on the table in front of them.] Oktoberfest.

100deaths-a-day.livejournal.com

[The device is fumbled with, his hands and arms are still shaking. The angle shows his arm - while he was able to (just) reach his comm, he is restrained) and him with a confused look on his face.]

H-how... [He pulls against the restraint with his arm, but his strength, even the extra that the hell flavouring on his soul gives him, is wavering at the moment. Being electrocuted can do that to you, I guess.]

I... where am I? Is anyone listening to thi... Can you hear me?

I can't remember how I got here... [He gives it another tug, but again the restraint holds] ...Like this.

100deaths-a-day.livejournal.com

[Dean had been pushed to limits even he didn't know he had. He was currently in the kitchen, running water into the sink. He watched the water as it flowed from the tap, trying not to think of much at all. In a day, he'd had to have a telepath dig through his head while dragging up pretty much the worst times of his life to save his basically comatose brother, and had been told by a demon that he was a demon.

Or, not actually a demon, but some freaky hybrid.

and that was on top of finding out that last time he'd been here, he'd been a vampire, and there were memories of events that he really didn't want to think about.

He reached out and turned off the tap, finishing the bottle of liquor that he'd started earlier. He dropped in the rosary.

Well, he couldn't very well just take this on the words of a demon now, could he?

He hesitated before plunging his hand into the water. The pain was immediate, the water bubbling and hissing from his contact with it. But he couldn't bring himself to remove his hand from the water, despite the ragged breaths he was drawing in the pain. He felt a little numb inside.

Screw it: He felt a lot numb inside.

save Sammy, or kill him. That had been one thing that he hadn't let himself remember in front of Charles. but he remembered the words now. and he could only think 'And what about me?'

He knew what had to be done, but he also knew from memories of last time that no-one here would do it. He pulled his arm from the water wondering what the hell he could do now.]

100deaths-a-day.livejournal.com

[He flips the audio feed on.]

...you remember that I said I might need your help with something? I do. Can you meet me up in my room?

100deaths-a-day.livejournal.com

[Dean snaps awake in the front seat of the impala. As he calms his erratic breathing, he realises that the place his baby is parked is giving him the strangest sense of deja vu. He put it down to dreaming again. He dreamed of this place before, after all. The dreams were crazy, and yet... they were an escape from hell.

He reaches for the blackberry on the dash, and flips it on. This dream.... except for at the end, Sam had been there. Mom. And a whole bunch of other people that he'd never thought his mind could create, and yet... apparently it had. He flips on the video, and with a voice that sounds like he hasn't seen, let alone drunk, water in months, he asks]

...Is S'm still-

[he breaks off as something stirs in the back seat. He turns, and a smile lights his weary face.]

Sam!

[ow, okay, that hurt. But so worth it when his brother awakens]

...Dean?Where... [he gives a slightly puzzled look, still a bit scrambled] I know this place. I think.

Yeah, I'm getting the freaky deja vu thing too. [his voice is grating but he tries not to wince against the scraping in his throat.]

Dude, what happened to you? You look like hell. [Sam's not scrambled enough to miss the signs of weary exhaustion, and Dean's voice. He realised Dean looked a little worse than when he'd last saw him, and he didn't think that was all that possible.]

I'm fine. [He brushed it off.] Let's get you something to eat and crap. You're not exactly looking your best, either. [He racks his brain as to why. He should know, Damn it all. Maybe it'll come soon.]

I... yeah, okay. [he presses a finger to the stitched wound on the palm of his hand, the pain keeping him grounded. The manor around them doesn't waver at all. Huh. He's not sure if that's a comfort or not.

Dean addresses the comm again.] Freaky dream world: I salute you. [and with that almost sarcastic sounding sign-off, he switches off. Even if it is a dream, he has Sam again, even if it's just until he wakes up. And that's fine by him.]

[[Dean is normal, Sam is Italics.]]

100deaths-a-day.livejournal.com

[During last week, Dean got.... no sleep at all. So when he had finally crashed, he'd crashed hard. Needing the sleep for healing as well as just getting some goddamned rest, he had spent most of the day yesterday asleep. But suddenly, he'd woken. Something wasn't right. His hand moved automatically for the knife under his pillow, and he'd began looking around to see if he could put his finger on it.

It didn't take long.

Just to make sure he was right, he'd not just stalked through the manor into all the rooms he could, but had drive into the desert, and searched the woods and down by the lake.

when he got back in, he sat on his bed and switched on the video. He had that carefully neutral expression and tone of voice which meant he was either angrier than he was going to let on, or more panicked than he was going to let on. And in this case: Both of the above.]

People disappear and come back all the time, right? [It's more like he's trying to convince himself. He's seen more people he considered friends disappear and not come back than he has them be gone just for a few days. And Dean? Well, life, especially where Sam was concerned, had taught him to be a pessimist. But Dean couldn't lose him again. Couldn't

In the feed, there's suddenly a brunette wearing sunglasses and a smile is in the room with him as he sighs, and runs a hand through his hair. The empty bed creaks as she settles on it. There's the whisper of jeans as her legs cross and a cane taps his ankle. He forgets the comm is on as he looks up.]

Hi Dean. You're quite the sight for prosthetic eyes. Sam.. is gone. He's falling again.

[her voice is soft with regret. Dean went to chuckle at her greeting, but it caught in his throat as she told him where Sam was.]

Pamela. ...No, "how are you?" Well, i never did take you as one for beating about the bush. [but the paleness of his face shows how much his heart just sank. Pamela reaches out for his hand, squeezing it tightly]

It's not forever, Dean. Your brother gets out of the Cage. He'll survive.

[Dean nods] I know he gets out. [he knows he was lied to about it, too] But.... He shouldn't have to go through that again. Even if it's the first time for him.

But you know he came back wrong, don't you? His.. rescuer botched the job something fierce. He-

[this is where the feed cuts. Dean had realised it was still on, and he wanted to finish this conversation privately.]

100deaths-a-day.livejournal.com

( You're about to view content that the poster has advised should be viewed with discretion. )

100deaths-a-day.livejournal.com

( cut for length )
[[OOC: basically, this is a post to say that Dean has vanished until I make my next post. Until then, if you try looking for him, he will not be findable, no matter where you look - or how. if your character can do location spells or anything like that, it will scramble, and show him as everywhere. Location by telepathy won't be possible either if you try it; all you'll see is dark, chains, and hell flashbacks.

you can use this to discuss what you just saw - thread-hops abundant - or whatever else you like, you just won't get a response from Dean. ~~that doesn't mean you won't get a demon gloating at you, though.~~]]

breaksurcrayon.livejournal.com

[The woman is moving swiftly down the corridor. She'd been chucked in this strange place, and as usual in her life? There were monsters. She had rolled her eyes, before the pulse pounding terror and running had started. But this god damn castle, she kept getting turned back on herself.

What wasn't helping? Was this god damn dress she'd been shoved into. A black formfitting typical witches dress was hugging her figure quite tightly, though a hastily torn split on the left side made it slightly easier to move, especially as the monsters were gaining again. Running out another door, it happened in a flash.

A line of red blood splattered across the wall. Willow looked at the beast that was holding itself triumphantly. That was it. She gripped her arm to keep pressure on it, and nodded up at it. The beast was thrown down the corridor violently. It's head smashed against the wall and it's neck broke with a violent crunch.

With no time to think as the witch was assaulted by three more attackers. She gestured at the decorative weaponry at the walls. They float to just in front of her, as if wielded by some invisible force to protect her. She looks determinedly at her attackers, as they charge.]

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Badfic Manor

Entries tagged with dean winchester

If you go down to the woods today... [Action]

[Action]

[Accidental audio]

[Video] It was probably a good thing he skipped most of his classes in highschool...

[Audio]

[Action]

[Action]

[Accidental Audio] (This is for this morning)

[action | audio]

[in person]

[In person]

Two Brothers at Oktoberfest

[video] (and with this, I'm going to go hide a while /)___(\ )

[In person]

[Private call - Charles]

[In person || Video] The Winchester Brothers make their (not so) triumphant return

[Video]

[video]

[Accidental audio]

★ Spell 1 ★ [Willow Rosenberg - IN PERSON]

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