simple kind of man

Dean Winchester Do you believe in me the way I believe in you? Death and apocalypse follow the footsteps of those who seek to stop it. [independent season 5 roleplay blog]

[troubleswillcome]

Semi Hiatus sort of announcement thing.

Please read this, it's pretty important to this account. As you might have noticed, I haven't been around much. Or at all. I have missed my partners and doing replies and feeling like I actually had a part of this community.

I really haven't had a part in this community for a long time, sometimes I feel like I never really did. However, I unfortunately cannot actively pursue that part right now. The reasons why are mostly stated in this quote from my personal blog, the hiatus announcement I made over there.

Everyone is getting a little busy with the start of a new school year and I am no different. I am now a freshman in college which means I am trying to adjust to it all and get accustomed to having to work my little tail a little harder than I did before.

I’m a Biological Sciences major which, if you didn’t already guess, means I am taking some pretty difficult classes, hardest of which is chemistry. Chemistry will absolutely throw me back and forth if I let it. I understood the broken down version we had in high school but now that most of the learning of chemistry is going to be either self-taught or done with a tutor, it’s so much more difficult.

Also some of calculus makes sense and some of it just has me tilting and scratching my head, Eugh.

This is basically a long winded explanation for me needing to just take a breather and put all my energy to school. I really hope people understand that.

And hey, if you’re really superb at chemistry or calculus, help a girl out with the studying. :3

So to say things are a little hectic right now is an understatement. Along with adjustments and the class load, I am dealing with some pretty terrible roommate issues and an injury at the moment. So please bear with me.

I really WANT to be here chatting and writing but it is simply a tough time. Prior to now, over the summer and spring when I wasn't as active as possible, I was dealing with making sure everything was set for graduation/starting college and some pretty big family issues.

It's been a hard time and unfortunately that subtracts from my ability to put a constant effort in here. 

Please note that I will check in once in a while, try to do a few replies, and check messages. I might even seek out new threads to get the creative juices flowing so PLEASE don't dismiss me due to my hiatus or my sluggish activity! Plot with me, reply to my starters, and even just chat with me. I MISS YOU ALL.

All the best, Mel. <3

[troubleswillcome]

Home Again || Open

  The road was long, it always was, stretching before him as he left on hunts, left behind the few loved ones he still had. It wasn’t even a hunt this time. It was a strong desire to see home once more before the chance of this world becoming simple stories became even more real. He traveled everywhere he could, everywhere he had to, but he was always a Lawrence boy, tried and true.

    To walk these streets again, just bask in what made him, what might cease to be, it was a high point, a good moment. Something he’d be sure to cherish among all the lows of his life.

     Just settling down in a diner he’d been to as a kid, stopped by whenever he passed through just enough for them to know him, it was a small piece of bliss. ‘John Winchester’s boy, sorry to hear kid. Welcome here anytime.’ Or tales of how lovely his mother was. For a moment, he could feel happy. He’d not seen his brother in ages, the world was doomed, but as a burger was settled before him, a coke to the side, he felt at home.

[bowlegsintheimpala]

1.12

[troubleswillcome]

Home Again || Open

  The road was long, it always was, stretching before him as he left on hunts, left behind the few loved ones he still had. It wasn’t even a hunt this time. It was a strong desire to see home once more before the chance of this world becoming simple stories became even more real. He traveled everywhere he could, everywhere he had to, but he was always a Lawrence boy, tried and true.

    To walk these streets again, just bask in what made him, what might cease to be, it was a high point, a good moment. Something he’d be sure to cherish among all the lows of his life.

     Just settling down in a diner he’d been to as a kid, stopped by whenever he passed through just enough for them to know him, it was a small piece of bliss. ‘John Winchester’s boy, sorry to hear kid. Welcome here anytime.’ Or tales of how lovely his mother was. For a moment, he could feel happy. He’d not seen his brother in ages, the world was doomed, but as a burger was settled before him, a coke to the side, he felt at home.

[troubleswillcome]

out of character. Wow, I've no idea how people get way more than 100 followers. I am grateful for all of you and I have no idea why you even hand around my innactive butt.

[greenwitchwimble--archive-blog]

"It’s not going to waste," she replied cooly,"I’ve opened up a whole foot rest system now." Trying to be cute, or serious? Some times Locret couldn’t discern for herself. He wasn’t alone on the whole intimacy. Especially on this scale. Come prepared with a bucket and she had a whole tsunami prepared to wipe out whatever happened because Locret was known infamously for running from intimate relations. It happened once before and she left him a note explaining everything when he finally recovered. She only hopes he understands because he hasn’t come looking for her at this point.

And once again, he wasn’t the only person who would hate themselves for leaving loved-ones behind. Locret would have to run one day to distract her own hunters from her ‘family’ just to keep them safe. He wouldn’t have to worry about her though. Some how she gets the whole ‘I have a destiny that will one day kill me or let me live out a happy life’ sort of thing.

Gods she forgets it all with that hand cupping her face. The callouses are oddly comforting against her cheek. It’s like a sappy romance flick going on for the rest of the diner watching the two seemingly coo and cuddle with one another.

"Please tell me," breaking the silence like a pro since 1988,"is there a bug on my face now because you’re hand isn’t leaving." It’s a joke. Don’t move that hand Dean Winchester.  Don’t you dare.

[troubleswillcome]

     There was something about a moment like this very one that struck Dean as odd. It was Hollywood-esque. A very pretty picture of two people comforted by one another, enjoying company and making jokes. It wasn't anything like Dean's life. This wasn't how things were meant to be, not for him, but heck if that meant he was going to give it up. 

     She wasn't just beautiful, she certainly was a sight to see. She understood him, for whatever reason she put up with him and even seemed to like him. It was comfortable to sit with her and feel loved, to feel at home. He knew he shouldn't let himself, it was dangerous to pretend like this could be his life but he kind of wanted it to be.

     "What if I need it, hmm Lo? I can't have you monopolizing my hands just because you feel like it." He kind of wished he could though. 

     He leaned in to kiss her nose and smiled down at her. "You're beautiful, Locret. Breathtakingly so."

[troubleswillcome]

Locret finds Dean sleeping on the motel room couch. She didn't even have to break any seals. She wasn't what he was protecting himself from /But he should be/. Bending down her lips graze over his cheek and her hair falls across his shoulder. Finally she presses a very loving kiss to his mouth. Part of her wants him to wake up. Part of her hopes he stays asleep.

     It was one of those rare events. Rest, not restlessness. Muffled music from one room over had seeped in and lulled him to sleep, eased his mind if only for a moment. He'd been seated on the couch, quilt pulled over him. He supposed it would be the case that he slept where he was not ought to. His back wouldn't be too forgiving come morning but the rest of him did not seem to care. Still, while slumber was slumber, it was still light. He'd practically trained himself to have his defenses up after all that had happened. Bad did not stop for rest, polite as that would be.     So feeling gentle touches, soft lips on his own, it was not the expected but he was still aware. He knew who it had to be, who else could it be really? He could not will his eyes to open so his hands reached blindly for her as he smiled small. "Hello, Lo. Do I wanna know how you found me?" 

[troubleswillcome]

An Unexpected Reunion || With Bela (procureuniqueitems)

[procureuniqueitems-deactivated2]

The remark about a young girl and his father dug further than it should have for a long moment, eyes widening in slight surprise.  Bela had never been sure if he would have been able to figure out the truth, but the comment.. it could have been nothing, or it could have indicated that.  She swallowed heavily for a moment, forcing her mind past it. Though the world, well, that was something entirely different, she couldn’t try and dissuade him from that truth.  And well.. truthfully, Bela wasn’t serving Lucifer, she’d route for Crowley any day of the week. The apocalypse didn’t look promising for anyone. "I doubt you’ll screw up."  Even if saying anything to boost his confidence felt funny.  "If you were going to, the weight wouldn’t be on your shoulders in the first place.  They’d find someone better and more suited.  Besides, don’t you have other friends?  What about Bobby, or some other hunter running around out there?"

[troubleswillcome]

     It mattered not how polite Dean was being, how he was trying to mend whatever the two of them even had in the first place. It was still a funny sentiment to hear from her and it was strange for him to process. Maybe she was right, maybe he was picked because he could handle it even when ninety percent of the time he felt like collapsing, breaking down, burning up in the flames. It would break him even more to know the guilt of that. And how could she believe what she said to really be true, sensible or not.

     "I could not possibly be the only righteous man out there. There must be more lineage, someone who never throws in the towel, never even thinks about it." All the blood on his hands, it was staining him. It wasn't letting him go.

     Even some of her blood was on his hands. He knew, it wasn't all his fault. He could not control her fate even if he'd attempted to, but the guilt was still there. The regret. "How can you believe in me? How can you possibly think-" how could he be the one meant for some divine destiny?

     "Bobby is around, sure. Do you know how many people I've had to see die because I fucked up? Because I'm not good enough? People I have loved and depended on. And people I don't even know. Because I'm not good enough."

[troubleswillcome]

All the Gin Joints || Bela (on-silksheets)

[on-silksheets-blog]

Bela offered him the tiniest of smiles, before disappearing upstairs to her own bed.

She managed to sleep for maybe two hours before the nightmares woke her. She sat up with half a scream in her throat, entire body wracked with sobs and tremors of fear. She couldn’t be sure whether her face was wet from tears or the cold sweat that covered the rest of her.

The choked, hiccuping crying forced it’s way from her mouth almost uncontrollably, and she struggled to stand on shaky legs. She wouldn’t be sleeping tonight, but even now exhaustion was threatening to send her head back onto the pillow.

She slipped down the short hall to her bathroom, turning on the shower to icy and stepping under it in one movement. The water hit her like a sheet of needles, the icy contact waking her up the rest of the way. Her legs threatened to give out and she slide to the tiled floor of the shower, water soaking through her shorts and tank in seconds.

She didn’t know how long she could keep living like this. Head on her knees with the water pounding down, Bela started to cry again.

[troubleswillcome]

     The dead of night was calm. Even with the unease that lingered upon where he was, who was a few feet away, and what their past had been. But for the quiet, the white noise that was typically enough to lull him to a light sleep if he could manage it, he could not. His worries about the future to come, the weight resting on him, it had taken a momentary back-burner. He was more concerned about what it meant, what this meant.

     It meant nothing, Dean could be foolish but he was not a fool. They had already crashed any possibilities and she was just kind enough to show a little concern for him when he had shown concern to her.

     All calms eventually came to an end and the storms began once more. He could hear the muffled shower running, the water through the pipes. He knew she too should be trying to sleep though he was more than aware of how difficult that could be after a trek through hell, just living the type of lives that they did.

     His concern did not disappear when she had left the room, rather it had grown. Which led to bare feet padding along her floors, into the bathroom. And there she was, fully clothed under the fountain of water.

     There were no words that could comfort someone like this, not at this point. Only hands that could pull the door open, a man willing to seat himself at her side and pull her to him. "Bela."

[troubleswillcome]

out of character. Who keeps breaking my tag? :( I wanna see these posts but they are not there.

[troubleswillcome]

out of character. I finally got my lazy ass to do all my replies last week. Some of you lovely, patient partners have since replied and will see response from me soon, once I settle into a good schedule for class. For those of you who didn't see or what have you, just check your tag on my blog or the first few pages. I might send out messages with the replies too. <3

[joelhammnd-blog]

Whether you fail or fly Well shit at least you tried

[xmerifri-archive-blog]

Et Dimitte Nobis Debita Nostra || Closed @ troubleswillcome

[xmerifri-archive-blog]

Castiel was no stranger to hardship. Since the moment that Heaven’s trumpets had split the sonorous silence of his existence, it seemed as though hardship had been a given. 

He had endured it all, death and hellfire, isolation and exile, rebellion and torture; Castiel had survived. Granted, he was frayed and tattered in places that had once been naught but gleaming light. 

Though, he did not consider himself to be strong. He did not act with the intent of being strong, nor did the thought enter his head at any point. 

Perhaps it was simply an angelic consideration, that they acted for the sake of acting; not for the sake of an ephemereal sentiment. 

"…Why?" He tilted his head to the right, as though to emphasis his question. "Why can you not keep fighting? Are you wounded? Unwell?"

[troubleswillcome]

     "I do not have the faith in myself that you seem to have. Why does anyone think I am capable of handling this?" 

     Dean was not heroic, he messed up, he left so many casualties behind, and he was afraid. He was not who the world needed fighting for the cause. They needed someone stronger, someone better equipped to deal with it in all ways. Dean's strength emotionally, mentally, it was tapped. He didn't know how to sleep at night or wake up when he managed to pass out.

     Was he unwell? Well in a way, he supposed he was. Hunting, fighting, it had hardened him and weakened him. He wondered if his mother would recognize him were she here to look.

     Was he worth the support that people tried to give him? The people who had died believing in him?

     He didn't think so.

     "Maybe I am unwell, Castiel. I haven't felt good in a long time."

     There was a burning in his nose, a wet in the corner of his eye. This is what his life had led to.

[walkingxabovexperdition-deactiv]

His own steps were hurried with one hand lifted and pressed against his ear because of an unprecedented storm. One that was induced as opposed to being something natural, one that was a symbol of great power and all of the electrical signals were failing in its wake. There had been a fleeting doubt that his call would even go through but it would have been much more difficult to maintain a connection elsewhere. Power lines snapping along the walkway, lights bursting out of their lamps one by one and sparks fading as quickly as they were brought to life.

Whether or not it was the middle of night, it wasn’t of importance.

He knew exactly where it was going and why it had come. “Anywhere, Dean.” And although he was listening, there was a clear distraction taking place in his own tone. “I’ll distr -[static]- … em. Find your brother and — … ”

It wasn’t a question but it was an order lost in transmission. 

[troubleswillcome]

     "Cas! Castiel"

     Dean was left with very few clues as to what to do, where to go. The urgency in his friend's tone alerting him to the time ticking away. Any moment he stayed stationary was likely a moment waster here. He bolted to his car, bag over one shoulder, opposite hand pressing the phone to his ear.

     "Cas, I'm in my car, I have no idea where Sam is." 

     They'd been apart for months, they stopped calling weekly after the first two. Now he got a text here, a mumbled voicemail there. He was sick of it. The separation wasn't doing them good and now it seemed a threat to them.

     All he could do was get on the road and go for miles, a shoulder doing it's best to hold a phone in place.

[troubleswillcome]

An Unexpected Reunion || With Bela (procureuniqueitems)

[procureuniqueitems-deactivated2]

Bela honestly wasn’t sure what to say at this point.  Emotional one-on-ones had never been her thing as a human, not with the obligation generally to share your owns.  And now that she was a demon? Well, empathy with him could have been a possibility considering the similar circumstances that they have been through.. but sympathy?  That was a whole different game that she didn’t want to touch. There was a seemingly long silence as she processed what he said, trying to figure out what was appropriate to say next.. without being entirely too insensitive about the matter.  Really, it didn’t seem like there was much that she could say.  It gave her plenty to think about, though, even if she rather not think about that kind of thing. "Nothing’s perfect.  No matter what you do, there’s always going to be a bad result.  Some times you have the sacrifice the lives of the few for that of the many."  Now, Bela didn’t necessarily mean herself.. especially not in this situation.  She should have been out here for revenge with him, if anything, but couldn’t find it within herself anymore.  Not with him exposing himself to this level.

[troubleswillcome]

     Dean couldn't completely believe himself. He'd have never shared or apologized two years ago. He wouldn't have admitted he was wrong or been civil. But here he was. Dean had done a lot of wrong for someone decreed heroic. He could get caught viewing the world a little to black and white, he knew it. He let it happen and knew how wrong he was. 

     And now he was standing before someone who he had screwed, who had messed with both him and his brother, and he was trying to build a bridge that was never there. By many means he should not be here, they were both a little different from who they were. But in that same sense, he knew that meant he should be there. 

     "But if I screw up, the price is the world this time. Not a young girl or her father, not another of my friends, it's everything riding on me, my absent brother, and a rebellious angel. It's not a hand I would bet on if I had the choice. But the money's on the table."

[punkwatcher]

+troubleswillcome

[punkwatcher]

Michael versus Lucifer? Yes, this would definitely merit research. Adrian was almost glad for the distraction. And the hunter’s glibness kept him from worrying overly about it. There were people around to take care of these things. Though the guy sounded personally involved.

He shrugged, reaching under the bar to add a bottle of scotch to the bourbon. “That it does. Come perilously close a few times, now. Guess m’jus’ desensitized.”

[troubleswillcome]

     "You face death, the end of it all, and it just becomes day to day. Not even a surprise anymore." Dean was nonchalant about it, just as when he knew he'd face his death in a year. At least he had the warning. Time to make his life count for something. Or time to screw up every relation he'd ever had. Apparently he was doing both.

     "Lots of pressure, working the battlefield, but if I fail the world, no one will be around to point a finger." Dean could act like that didn't matter but it certainly did. He'd live on with the guilt if the angels succeeded and if they did not, Sam would. He could not win.

[troubleswillcome]

out of character. I need to be honest. I’ve been thinking about deleting this blog. There are INCREDIBLE writers out there who I have worked with, plotted with, or even just stalked. I feel like I pale in comparison and I am the absolute worst at keeping up with threads.

Beyond that, I feel like I throw myself at people with excitement and most people don’t care. They have another, better Dean. They just don’t like mine. Something.

I don’t know what to do here. I want to be better about replies, I want to have plenty of people to write with. I just feel like for all the time I have had this account, I never found my place.