#feat. bobby

[inwire]

continued with @hcpewings from here

Good news is Jody said she could swing by in a few hours. Bad news is those hours could range from two to ten, shift depending. Bobby's prepared from his side of things: ear plugs and an array of weapons that need cleaning, or, at least look like enough busy work to keep him out of playing mother hen.

Kid may have shown up on Bobby's doorstep, but he manages to get Castiel to touch him first, so. Tag. You're it. Surprising absolutely no one, Cas does not seem to respect the law of inverse dibs.

He glances at the liquor cabinet, thoughtful, but no. Can't get ahead of themselves.

Left with the most uncomfortable but inevitable option, he's almost afraid to ask, "How's he, uh .. smell?"

[the-irrelevant-trumpeter]

Cop: You’re receiving a ticket for having three people on one motorcycle. Luke: Shit. Bobby: Wait, three? Cop: Yeah? Alex: OH MY GOD REGGIE FELL OFF!!!

[maggiemaewilds]

Friends and Family

[inwire]

continued with @narrativeobsession from here

"Sure. As long as your conscience is clean." If he had one to begin with remains unclear. Bobby reclines in his chair, dropping his arms (and sarcasm) along the way. "Hell, Nollis. I don't have one good reason to believe you aren't the villain here."

[inwire]

...i think i cracked a rib.

[ @hcpewings | from sam, to bobby! ]

@hcpewings

Looks a whole lot worse than that.

"Jesus, boy." He swings the door the rest of the way open, shoos Sam toward the couch. "What'd you fight? A brick wall?" Not shit in the kit for a rib, but he does have frozen peas. And beer. Beer should work. He hands both over, assessing. "Don't go to sleep." Sam's pupils look pretty fucked.

[inwire]

"I've got to ask: why the hat?" (For Bobby)

@qapsiel

See, if he had known switching up the wardrobe was going to cause such a fuss, he would've kept to the same-old-same-old. Prissier than necessary (scratch that, perfect amount of priss for a man his age), he yanks it further down his brow to argue, "Cause it suits me, that's why."

He leaves off asshole, but it's implied.

Never mind he can't decipher the text on the front, done up in some fancy jagged way he attributes to a brand design. Not for lack of trying, either: he can read Greek, he can read Aramaic, he just chose to put significantly less thought (than apparently everyone in their immediate circle has) into what he's wearing today.

"Why the trench? Why not a peacoat, huh?"

[inwire]

i don't like that tone. avoid it. / from @godmodel to bobby.

@godmodel

his eyes snap up to fix john a dirty look.

"sorry, sweetheart. the sugarcoating costs extra."

un-fucking-believable. they're in his house, drinking his coffee, spending his time .. hell, if it's a fight john's gunning for, he's half tempted to indulge him. at least it'd be a break from pouring over lore that promises both diddly and squat.

"look, you wanted the truth, john." the other half wins out. he keeps it amicable, if only for the sake of the migraine he can feel coming on. "and that's the god's honest truth. i'm telling you. you'd have a better shot with a gun in your mouth. go after this thing, you ain't making it back."

[inwire]

"you look like you're expecting trouble." ( jody @ bobby )

@bulletsnblood

"You're here, aren't you?" He glances over her head, scanning the yard for any signs of a straggler. Jody, as much as he chides, isn't what's got him twitchy. He ushers her inside and clicks the lock in place behind. Then, in a new precaution, does up the other two he added this morning. It's a busy day.

"Coffee first?" Bobby minds his manners. She's well familiar with the path to the kitchen. He lets her lead. "Think you'll need it."