Jinksy

Hey, my name's Steve, though I guess you can call me "Jinksy". I work for the ATF, and am often caught in the middle of...exciting events.

[senioragentpoopypants]

Best* *Adult* *game 2021. More* 1 097 038 Sexy* *girls* .Online. ->

[senioragentpoopypants]

"Hopefully we get done with this mission quickly. If I get athlete’s foot I’m sending my medical bills to Artie," he nodded with a smile at her thanks. "Which way was it from here, again?"

[totallylaverne]

"Ew, I don’t want to think about your feet right now. The smell down here is already enought to kill a man." She wrinkled up her nose, "Uh, the map says left… or right depending on how you hold it."

[senioragentpoopypants]

Steve closed his eyes for a moment in frustration. The longer he was wading therough the mud, the less patience he got. He didn't want to take it out on his partner, but there was only so much a man could take.

"Let's go left," he decided. "The worst that can happen is that we have to backtrack a little, right?"

[senioragentpoopypants]

"Salt - ?" Of course, salt got rid of ghosts. How many times had his mother told him that as a child? More than Steve could count surely, but he’d just written it off as a joke. The fact that ghosts were real…shouldn’t have come as this much of a surprise, after everything he’d even in the Warehouse, but it still took Steve off-guard. "Are they dangerous?"

[soullessbobbysinger]

"These two?  Not particularly, but if they are in a bad mood they can throw you.  It sounds like they’re in a good mood righ’ now.  I ain’t never found what they was tied to or I’d send ‘em on but I’m more worried ‘bout the ol’ lady In row 71, she’s dangerous."  Bobby shrugged.  "s the problem with car crashes.  The ghosts are harder to banish."

[senioragentpoopypants]

Steve was going to have some questions for Artie when he got back to the Warehouse, but for the time being he just had to deal with the damned supernatural all around him. "I guess that makes sense," he agreed, looking around at the junkyard. It certainly would be hard to figure out just what a ghost would be tied to, out here.

He didn't know which row the 71st was, but he hoped Bobby would let him know if he got near anything too dangerous.

As he neared the front of the property again, Steve held up the things he'd gotten. "These are what I was looking for, right?" he figured he should double check with the expert.

[senioragentpoopypants]

piebabyandthespoopyroad

Steve sat, hunched over the bar of a local diner, rubbing his temple with one hand and cooling the swollen palm of the other on a strawberry milkshake. The waitresses bustling about sent him pitying looks every once and awhile, which he cordially ignored. It was going to be a long afternoon.

[senioragentpoopypants]

"Sure," Steve muttered to himself. Just what he needed. Goddamn ghosts. As if this day wasn’t weird and obnoxious enough. He was going to take a long hot shower as soon as he got back to the B&B. He headed back to Bobby with a grumble in his step.

[soullessbobbysinger]

"s why. I was carryin’ this."  Bobby racked another load of salt.  "Cause rock salt will dissipate them ‘fore they get too close. An’ it works good as a riot weapon too."

[senioragentpoopypants]

"Salt - ?" Of course, salt got rid of ghosts. How many times had his mother told him that as a child? More than Steve could count surely, but he'd just written it off as a joke. The fact that ghosts were real...shouldn't have come as this much of a surprise, after everything he'd even in the Warehouse, but it still took Steve off-guard. "Are they dangerous?"

[senioragentpoopypants]

Steve sat bolt upright in the van, crackign his head on the roof. He winced, cradling his aching skull as he looked out, confused as to what the hell could be out there.

As he stepped out of the vehicle the warehouse agent called out to the owner of the junkyard. “Bobby, what the hell is going on?”

[soullessbobbysinger]

Jus’ the benetti boys, They ain’ gonna hurt ya.  They play hide an’ seek through the area.  But I ain’t never been able to banish ‘em yet, ain’t sure what’s holdin’ them ‘cept maybe findin’ the driver what clobbered ‘em an’ that ain’ likely to happen.

[senioragentpoopypants]

"Sure," Steve muttered to himself. Just what he needed. Goddamn ghosts. As if this day wasn't weird and obnoxious enough. He was going to take a long hot shower as soon as he got back to the B&B. He headed back to Bobby with a grumble in his step.

[totallylaverne]

"We should have brought hip-waders." She winced, almost losing one of her sneakers in the mud, "Indiana Jones makes this look so much more fun then it actually is…"

[senioragentpoopypants]

"Indiana Jones in an archaeologist. Somehow I think he makes that look more fun than it actually is too.” He held a hand out to her in aid.

[totallylaverne]

"With out a doubt. I get enough grief from crusty old things at the Warehouse without having to dig for them." She grumbled, taking his hand, "Thanks."

[senioragentpoopypants]

"Hopefully we get done with this mission quickly. If I get athlete's foot I'm sending my medical bills to Artie," he nodded with a smile at her thanks. "Which way was it from here, again?"

[claudia-serendipity-donovan]

Baking cookies || Senioragentpoopypants

[senioragentpoopypants]

"I think so," he hummed, flipping through the cookbook absently. Steve pursed his lips when Claudia asked him what book he was reading. Of course the man would be caught reading a gay man’s novel the only time someone bothered to ask him about his choices in literature.

"Picture of Dorian Gray," he said casually, hoping Claudia didn’t know much about Oscar Wilde, or who he was at all. Steve had a sinking suspicion that Claudia secretly knew everything that could ever embarass him though, so his hopes weren’t all that high after all.

[claudia-serendipity-donovan]

"Dude, Dorian Gray is the best!" She said excitedly. "Personally I’m taking the Mrs. Frederic path of eternal youth." Claudia snickered. 

"Buuuuuuut," She drew out her words in a singsong manner. "Cookies. All the cookies. Find it yet?" Claudia peered over the top of the cook book. 

[senioragentpoopypants]

"Yeah, I know you are," he laughed, rolling his eyes before Claudia got distracted and changed the subject yet again. "And yes, it's right here," he pointed, laying the book down on the counter for the both of them to read. "Oatmeal scotchies, just like you wanted."

[senioragentpoopypants]

Claudia's Birthday

[senioragentpoopypants]

Steve got about three quarters of the way through his bottle before stopping to laugh at Claudia’s faux pas. He waited until he was sure he wasn’t going to kill himself before finishing, putting the glass on the table and chuckling some more.

"Sure. How do you feel about shots?" he snickered, prepared to file this entire evening away for blackmail.

[claudia-serendipity-donovan]

"Shots are bueno." Claudia smiled. "Shots of what? Penicillin or vodka?"

The girl set down her bottle with more force than intended, causing several other patrons to turn around and look at her. “We cool, we cool.” She awkwardly gestured to the bottle and blushed.

"Yes shots." She placed a firm hand on Steve’s shoulder and guided him over toward the bar, hiding her bright red face behind him.

[senioragentpoopypants]

Steve laughed, leaning on the bar when they got there and clapping his broad hand on her back gently. "I think vodka will do just fine," he chuckled, ordering a couple of cold shots for each of them. "Bottom's up," he said, taking his easily.

[senioragentpoopypants]

"Sure," Steve nodded, inching in the direction Bobby had gestured in. Whether this guy knew Artie or not, Steve didn’t trust him. Especially not with a shotgun in his hands.

The van was easy enough to find, and Steve wasn’t the greatest with machine parts but he was finding what Artie had sent him for easy enough. (Diagrams were a blessing.)

[soullessbobbysinger]

It started with cold.  Windows began to fog up on the junkers just ahead of him, and the feeling of a cold wind that hadn’t been there before.  A car door slammed and a vague figure moved from car to car, laughing and running like a kid playing hide and seek.

[senioragentpoopypants]

Steve sat bolt upright in the van, crackign his head on the roof. He winced, cradling his aching skull as he looked out, confused as to what the hell could be out there.

As he stepped out of the vehicle the warehouse agent called out to the owner of the junkyard. "Bobby, what the hell is going on?"

[claudia-serendipity-donovan]

Baking cookies || Senioragentpoopypants

[senioragentpoopypants]

Steve followed her, nodding sympathetically. He tried to do his best to stay on Artie’s good side so he wouldn’t have to shelve as often, but had been recruited to do it often enough anyway.

"Oh, god no," Steve shook his head emphatically. He chuckled a little, swatting her. “That is no joking matter." He went over to the cupboards on the other side of the room to get out mixing bowls while Claudia decided on the recipe they’d use. Honestly, what he was reading wasn’t a whole lot better, in terms of literary achievement.

"Any particular type of cookies you’re thinking of?"

[claudia-serendipity-donovan]

"The tasty kind. Maybe those oatmeal scotchies that are so delicious. Do you remember if that’s in this book?" She held it out toward Steve.

"And if it wasn’t 50 shades, what was it?" Claudia inquired. He seemed to be avoiding the question.

[senioragentpoopypants]

"I think so," he hummed, flipping through the cookbook absently. Steve pursed his lips when Claudia asked him what book he was reading. Of course the man would be caught reading a gay man's novel the only time someone bothered to ask him about his choices in literature.

"Picture of Dorian Gray," he said casually, hoping Claudia didn't know much about Oscar Wilde, or who he was at all. Steve had a sinking suspicion that Claudia secretly knew everything that could ever embarass him though, so his hopes weren't all that high after all.

[senioragentpoopypants]

Claudia's Birthday

[senioragentpoopypants]

“Lie-detectoriness?” he snickered, ordering a beer for himself as well, tipping as the bartender unbottled his for him and leaning back on the bar to look over at his friend.

"Oh you’re on," he grinned, raising the cool bottle up to his lips. “One…two…three!" Steve tipped his head back and began drinking, keeping an eye on her from the side, taking deep, full swallows.

[claudia-serendipity-donovan]

Claudia tilted her head back, losing her sunglasses, and began to take huge gulps. She got about 3 down before her head snapped up and she began to cough. Determined to finish, the girl wiped her mouth off and finished off the drink in 5 (considerably smaller) gulps.

"Refreshing." She laughed and attempted to subtly clear her throat- which only caused her to cough more.

"I’m good." Claudia assured him with a smile. "Maybe we should try something else?"

[senioragentpoopypants]

Steve got about three quarters of the way through his bottle before stopping to laugh at Claudia's faux pas. He waited until he was sure he wasn't going to kill himself before finishing, putting the glass on the table and chuckling some more.

"Sure. How do you feel about shots?" he snickered, prepared to file this entire evening away for blackmail.

[senioragentpoopypants]

"No, I…probably shouldn’t," Steve says slowly, putting the diagram back into his pocket. "So, where should I start looking?"

[soullessbobbysinger]

Row ten, look for the black VW van at the end of the aisle. The other should be about two aisles over. *Bobby went to get tools.* there should be a machine rig in that row if ya can't find the big sprocket I can machine it. *Of course he didn't mention the ghost. It should be good for a laugh. But he made sure thee was a salt rifle handy.

[senioragentpoopypants]

"Sure," Steve nodded, inching in the direction Bobby had gestured in. Whether this guy knew Artie or not, Steve didn't trust him. Especially not with a shotgun in his hands.

The van was easy enough to find, and Steve wasn't the greatest with machine parts but he was finding what Artie had sent him for easy enough. (Diagrams were a blessing.)

[senioragentpoopypants]

totallylaverne started following you

"I told you we should have brought gumboots,” Steve groaned, shoulders hunched around his ears as if keeping his arms as high as possible it would keep his legs clean as well.

[totallylaverne]

"We should have brought hip-waders." She winced, almost losing one of her sneakers in the mud, "Indiana Jones makes this look so much more fun then it actually is…"

[senioragentpoopypants]

"Indiana Jones in an archaeologist. Somehow I think he makes that look more fun than it actually is too." He held a hand out to her in aid.

[senioragentpoopypants]

[senioragentpoopypants]

Steve didn’t like being threatened, but he knew that the man before him (Mr. Singer, he had to assume) wasn’t lying, so he holstered his Tesla gun slowly, then raised his hands to make sure that he wasn’t going to be shot at. “Okay, yeah, I…

[soullessbobbysinger]

You prolly can’t let me see that eh? *He scratched his head, trying to sort through the items he’s got.*

If I ain’t got it, I can Machine it. It’s why he ands people to me.

[senioragentpoopypants]

"No, I...probably shouldn't," Steve says slowly, putting the diagram back into his pocket. "So, where should I start looking?"

[sonvoeux]

Reblog if

[senioragentpoopypants]

you’re open to roleplay the following:

● abuse ( emotional, physical, drug etc.)

● crime ( murder, kidnapping, theft etc.)

● action ( fighting, races, weapons etc.)

● relationships as ( enemies, gangs etc.)

[senioragentpoopypants]

Enigmas || Soullessbobbysinger

[senioragentpoopypants]

Steve didn’t like being threatened, but he knew that the man before him (Mr. Singer, he had to assume) wasn’t lying, so he holstered his Tesla gun slowly, then raised his hands to make sure that he wasn’t going to be shot at. “Okay, yeah, I work with Artie… How…how do you know him, exactly?”

If Mr. Singer and Artie knew each other, then that could go one of two ways. And those ways were very badly or moderately well. Steve hoped that it would be the latter, but the heavens knew that fortune did not favour Mr. Jinks.

[soullessbobbysinger]

*Bobby lowered his gun and smiled.  It was a friendly, open smile.*  Well, ‘tween getting his ride fixed when it got totaled an’ him trying’ to recruit me over a hexed item he thought was an artifact, We’ve had a few go-rounds.  I guess I started hunting’ an showed up on his radar.

*Bobby pulled a flask and offered him a drink.*  An’ then there was the time he gave me what for cause I cloned an’ agent’s id.  *Bobby shrugged.*  I needed a secret service badge, he was handy.  I picked his pocket an’ nearly had it back to him ‘fore he ever figured out it was gone.  Anyway.  What he got ya looking’ for cause there is forty acres of salvage yard here.  

[senioragentpoopypants]

"Hunting?" Steve had to imagine that Bobby didn't mean like hunting animals. Nothing like that would ever put anyone on Artie's 'radar'. "What kind of hunting do you do?

"Oh, no thanks," he shook his head with a polite smile when he was offered the flask. Bobby certainly was an...interesting character. But if Artie had sent Steve here, then it meant that this man could help him. He didn't comment on the odd anecdotes that were said, not even knowing how to respond to them.

"Our...um...goo machine is on the fritz," he said, realizing that that probably sounded really useless to someone who knew his way around mechanical parts. Steve pulled the diagram out of his pocket, reading what it said. "I need...a sprocket as big as my fist, and another one that's 22 inches in diametre, and a chain or something to wrap around them, if you have those just...lying around anywhere?"