shatterverse | Entries tagged with jack hollins

She lost track of the days but the light comes all the same, rudely interrupting and cruelly abandoning. Her weapons are pilled in the front room, where the floor is littered with food boxes and alcohol bottles acquired but left untouched. There's a sharpness lingering throughout the unaired rooms.

Jo herself is sitting on her bed, dressed in the clothes she put on after stitches a week ago, her arm around her knees, staring at one open hand. In the palm of it is a small shining trinket. A bright green four leaf clover held between two thin layers of glass and rounded in a loop of gold.

"Help," she whispers, the sound more of a wheezed croak of notes caught in her chest.

The gold band snaps and the glass shatters, the clover looking suddenly brilliant summer green.

Jo set her chin on her knees, moving her gaze to her boots, listening to the even keel of her breath. But no other noises sounded, and when she looked back to her palm the clover was half shriveled from the outside headed further in while the glass pieces were shrinking.

Glass embedded against green and pink skin inside a closed fist, as she murmured to her boots and dust was left in her palm. "Not your lucky penny anymore."

theresnodoor

Rachel wouldn't say she's been babysitting for a number of different reasons. A few of them include Not Wanting to Get Punched, Not Finding Anything Funny About the Situation. First and foremost being that she doesn't consider what she's been doing babysitting in the first place.

She's hoping it could be considered 'helping,' but she's relying on Jo's responses to tell her if that's accurate or not.

And 'with Jo' is where she's been the last few days, wandering around Metropolis, dropping in on the woman's apartment - invited or otherwise - making passes over the city in eagle morph. Surveillance, of a sort. She won't look specifically for Dean or Jack because she refuses to go over Jo's head like that for information. But if she happens to see something while she's up there that explains what happened...

Well, that's not her fault.

Right now, she could be found in the sky. Or maybe it's late and she's heading back to that building she and Tobias have been staying in. Or maybe, just maybe, someone's going to catch her on her way to or from checking on Jo.

...not that she needs checking on. Of course.

tobeclosetohim

[OOS: The story of a brown eyed blonde, which makes the case many times

It is polite to ask before you bend someone over. ]

ineveryport.livejournal.com

Pick a bar in Metropolis, any bar.

No not that kind of bar. The seedy places filled with smoke and shouting and a very high percentage of offworlders in the clientele. The kind of bar you go to in order to drink homebrewed beer, carouse and gamble and maybe later pick a fight and go home drunk and bleeding.

Jack uses these bars to make money and work out his issues. He makes money by gambling on dice or cards, and he works out his issues by winning at these games until someone calls him a cheater and he has a valid excuse to knock the living crap out of his accusers. All the while drinking enough to give him a killer headache in the morning.

And the more these guys look like Sam Winchester, the better.

stubborn_squire

[Not so very long ago, Alan of Trebond, Squire to Prince Jonathan of Tortall, took a dimensional wrong turn and wound up in the wilds of what used to be downtown Washington, DC. Luckily, two curious partners named Bones and Booth were there to help her through the transition and, um, around the rampaging dinosaurs.

Preferring their company to that of large monsters with equally large teeth, she tagged along as they fled the city. They soon met up with Cam, another person from Bones and Booth’s world, though someone seems to be having fun with timelines. (Thread still in progress.)]

Alanna wakes up hungry.

They’d arrived at their current camp well after the point when hunger is supplanted by exhaustion and had immediately given in to sleep. It had been a long day of travel, but if the information they had picked up along the way these past few weeks is correct, there should be others nearby.

Rubbing her arms in an attempt to warm herself, Alanna walks back to the road, eyes scanning the horizon. In the early morning light, she can just make out what appear to be groups of buildings ahead, though it's probably too early for signs of life. She shrugs and starts walking, making only a small sound of surprise when Faithful leaps on her shoulder and balances with his claws. She's not worried about leaving the others behind. Bones (she thinks of her that way now, in her head) will probably assume she's gone on to try and find the farm; she'd consider it a rational use of time. Alanna's rumbling stomach couldn't agree more.

[OOC: Alanna is disguised as a boy. For more info, please see this post. Thanks!]

ineveryport.livejournal.com

It's a regular caravan that shows up at Metropolis today.

Vehicle One: The Coraline, a modifies pick-up truck being driven by everyone's favourite bloodthirsty pirate, with a distinctly anti-killing ex-Robin in the passenger seat. The ghost of a teenage girl is technically sitting on the roof of the cabin, but sometimes she pokes her head in to interrupt the boys in their conversation.

Vehicle Two: A 1967 Chevrolet Impala, the only one blaring out tunes, while the driver and his blonde passenger sit in relative silence, not having much to say to each other.

Vehicle Three: A Porsche, containing one carefully prepared hunter and one blind woman who prides herself on not needing any preparation. The conversation in that one is a little more lively, even containing the occasional laugh from the girl.

It's a ridiculous procession, considering they don't really know where they're going. But Jack has all six of his senses peeled, looking for a young teenage girl of Chinese origin who isn't a young teenage girl of Chinese origin.

ineveryport.livejournal.com

You hear that?

That is the noise of Jack approaching the farm, European folk metal blaring out of the speakers of the Coraline. He had considered arriving at Ruth, but then he decided to screw that idea. Jack Hollins doesn't fear anything at the farm, dammit.

So he's driving up merrily, singing along with the radio.

tobeclosetohim

Jo's walking back toward what works for better or less as her place, though she doesn't think of it that way. It's a dive shaped hole in the wall, but it has a working shower, which is what she wants. She's thinking, wearily, that this metropolitan shit-safe town's boredom is beginning to wear on her even more than normal.

More than riding out for a hunt every other day is going to assuage.

But that might be her annoyance at the world while she wraps her bloodied knuckles.

hector-aframian.livejournal.com

Dean has been back in Metropolis for a while.

He just hasn't gone to see the girls. The thought of the bitching they're gonna dish out for him taking off is a bit offputting -- and besides, he really needs to find more books with some reliable information for the farm ghost situation.

(Or at least, that's an excuse.)

He's in what's left of the Metropolis City Library at the moment, poking through old reference books with dirty hands and occasionally shoving a near-priceless tome roughly into his knapsack. Dean's respect for books, let him show you it.

Current Location: Metropolis

tobeclosetohim

Metropolis isn't Jo's scene (it's too metropolitan) but she still hasn't left.

She just breathes in and out, head not falling, copper eyes alert, hips swinging with each steps as she helps with the early evening clean up of a hole in the wall bar n' club she's spent far too many days in.

theresnodoor

In Metropolis, one can find almost everything. All kinds of peoples - fighters, tricksters, thieves, innocent people just looking for a good time.

And occasionally, you can find a healthy looking kitty with silky white fur sitting on the porch of a nearby storefront to a club, grooming himself (because the cat itself is a boy, you see) and occasionally running off to walk a fence or leap on a row of trashcans or chase a mouse.

Rachel may or may not be avoiding the nightlife of other twenty-somethings.

tobeclosetohim

[OOS: In which there is a road trip, monster fighting, and more than anyone asked for.]

In the middle of nowhere Nebraska, at a place hunters once knew well, there are fires turning the low horizon a blurring orange and red and above it the sky a fume of rolling black. There's no people to see it for miles and miles, states and states, and the two people who set the fires don't care about that part much.

They've got weapons if it attracts attention.

Jo stayed outside long enough to see the faces and bodies on the first pyre, the specific one she hadn't had to set up but she had set fire to herself, before abandoning all four lit pyres to go inside and bleach the bar top. She wasn't staying, she wouldn't and she couldn't, but she needed to be moving.

Jack remained to watch the fires burn, singing a sweet, compassionate ditty to honour fallen warriors - in his high, very womanly singing voice. The last few strains tailed off as the fires reached their peak and then there was just a pirate standing with his back to the bar, watching the smoke and standing guard simultaneously.

[Feel free to tag Jack & Jo, or Jack or Jo separately. Warnings for slows and very slows from me, as I'm working, but this is open and will slowtime until all good things come to fruition.]

not-theslayer.livejournal.com

Dianne's not in The House right now.

Or any other house, for that matter.

She's been sitting in the Impala for the past few hours, alternately blasting out some of her rock tapes and sitting in silence.

And that's about it.

tobeclosetohim

Getting the hell away is what Jo wants to be doing.

Oracle was met. Dinah's in Greece or another European country.

Dean and Rachel are doing whatever the hell they've been doing, wherever the hell they'd been doing it.

Jo's sitting on the hood of the Impala. It's as direct a statement as she's making given other things.

effedlarrikin.livejournal.com

There are too many people inside. Too many strangers, too close, stepping wrong, talking wrong, looking wrong and all in all, inside is just wrong.

Which is why Iskender is outside the Cooper house, contemplating the kraken pond.

At least, he's looking in that general direction.

slayer_fray

When Mel assigns punishment duty, she takes it seriously. Since confining Jack to the farm, she's been out daily - never with her girls, who are getting extra Unca Sokka time for it - in the field, over seeing him in a range of hard labour she'd been meaning to do for ages.

Sure, she's a lot stronger than him, and could do some of this easier, but that's not the point.

So right now, if you wanted to find Mel or Jack, they'd be out in the field, working hard. One trying hard not to like the other.

wearsredhelmet.livejournal.com

In Metropolis....

Eden McCain has a table to herself at a coffee shop - notebook papers are spread over it with titles like 'Main Character' and 'Subplot 1'. The great post-apocalyptic novel isn't going to get written any other way! She felt like dressing like a cliche artist - and is wearing a navy blue beret.

Tom Therin is whistling cheerfully to himself as he walks down the street, idly looking for pockets to pick.

On the Cooper farm....

Bridgette Dubois has a stuffed pony, a lion, and a unicorn in a semi-circle on the lawn to the Cooper house. "Whoever wants me to sing Lion King at the talent show, say aye!"

The stuffed animals are silent, but Bridgette - after checking on Marie, who claps her hands in agreement an area to her left - nods as if they actually spoke. "All right - how about Sound of Music?"

Oliver Wycliffe, dressed in white and looking thoughtful, is riding his stallion Beauregard down the road to the farm.

Dana, an extremely tired-looking young woman in ratty jeans and a T-shirt, is waiting nervously in front of the hospital, gnawing on her lip.

[ooc: Tag one, tag all, but please let me know which one you're tagging!]

tobeclosetohim

Jo ended up with the Winchester's for the night. Her bike parked off to the side of the double Impala tracks.

Unsurprisingly, it was infuriatingly easy for five people to end up under each others feet moving around in a house.

Needing to escape the muddle of Winchesters, Jo is sitting on the porch steps drinking a glass of tea Mary handed her on the way out.

misterbunny.livejournal.com

So, the Bunny has gotten things set up for a nice little alcohol fueled party. There's an Ipod attached to a boombox for music, a nice cleared spot for dancing, some hijacked foods for eating, and, of course, the booze.

The Booze is laid out in row after row of wonderfully full bottles. It starts with the cheap stuff, and gets gradually better. But the good stuff, the long aged, good brewed, never tapped stuff, is in the five barrels the Bunny is currently sitting on. He's got a glass of cheap in front of him, just to start things off right.

"Ladies, gentlemen, and assorted creatures! I give you, booze! But, I am not one to give things away for free. And money ain't worth shit no more. So, instead I ask of you, a simple thing. A joke, a toast, a tale or a song, any two of these, and you can drink all night. All four, and we crack open the casks. Lay on!"

ineveryport.livejournal.com

Some disguises just come ready made.

The Coraline is parked a mile away from the outskirts of the farm, obscured by trees and covered with a tarp.

And a woman makes her way into the property. Dressed stylishly but fairly modestly, she moves with a stride slightly too long to be consdiered 'ladylike', but the swish of her blue skirt around her knees and the way her strawberry blonde hair catches in the wind make her look nothing except what she is - a self assured young woman.

She doesn't head towards the farmhouse, though she comes close. Instead she aims herself towards the cruiseship-fort.

It's possible she's looking for someone,but also possible that she'll talk to anyone who wants.

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Page generated Jun. 27th, 2025 01:51 pm

Shatterverse Panfandom RP

Entries tagged with jack hollins

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Silent Hill

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Nebraska

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One of them dual post things.

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Party? Party.

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