Sam Winchester (
collegedropout) wrote in
driftfleet2016-10-24 02:56 am
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Entry tags:
voice. a quick sad post.
Who: Sam Winchester
Broadcast: fleetwide
Action: Red Fish
When: after a sad shuffle :C
[Sam's very much subdued the day that Dean vanishes. If he reacts more viscerally to it, to knowing that this Dean was returning to his inevitable death at Sam and satan's own hands, nobody'd know it — he closes himself up in his room, keeps himself distant for a little while. It helps, because it also gets him away from those damned echoes that have begun to snowball. He's tried his best to ignore them, and with Dean suddenly gone... he doesn't trust himself to be anything but stressed at the sight.
Anyway. Um. Best to move forward, right...? Get back into things. Working at the bar keeps his mind busy, as does helping with the garden, and there's also helping with the weird messages from the planet, and — dammit, Sam, get back into things. Fake it 'til you make it. This too shall pass, if you pretend hard enough that you're fine. So he breathes in deep, breathes out, and addresses the fleet.]
My brother, Dean, um. Dean Winchester's left the fleet. I wasn't sure how many people knew him, but...
[A pause.]
Anyone want to talk? I could use something to keep me occupied. Your choice of topic, just shoot. I can be a pretty good listener, too.
[Help me get out of this funk, huh.]
Broadcast: fleetwide
Action: Red Fish
When: after a sad shuffle :C
[Sam's very much subdued the day that Dean vanishes. If he reacts more viscerally to it, to knowing that this Dean was returning to his inevitable death at Sam and satan's own hands, nobody'd know it — he closes himself up in his room, keeps himself distant for a little while. It helps, because it also gets him away from those damned echoes that have begun to snowball. He's tried his best to ignore them, and with Dean suddenly gone... he doesn't trust himself to be anything but stressed at the sight.
Anyway. Um. Best to move forward, right...? Get back into things. Working at the bar keeps his mind busy, as does helping with the garden, and there's also helping with the weird messages from the planet, and — dammit, Sam, get back into things. Fake it 'til you make it. This too shall pass, if you pretend hard enough that you're fine. So he breathes in deep, breathes out, and addresses the fleet.]
My brother, Dean, um. Dean Winchester's left the fleet. I wasn't sure how many people knew him, but...
[A pause.]
Anyone want to talk? I could use something to keep me occupied. Your choice of topic, just shoot. I can be a pretty good listener, too.
[Help me get out of this funk, huh.]
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I think you're asking for the impossible here.
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The closest thing I can remember is like, those Agatha Christie novels where the sidekicks fell in love while solving a murder.
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Or maybe a water spirit that falls in love with a sailor?
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Me? Oh, no, I'm not... Well, I mean, I'm really not much of an author.
[He wrote some pretty cool werewolf stories in highschool, don't listen to him.]
You probably write way better.
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[He had a Livejournal and everything, don't listen to him.]
Poetry and journals are a different beast, but between the two of us, we might have something half-decent.
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What, you're willing to co-author a supernatural romance with me?
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[Plus, uh, it's way more fun writing with a partner.]
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In reality or in fiction.
... Also I'm pretty positive if my brother came back to the fleet, he'd never let me hear the end of it.
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[Sam brings up a good point, though... they'd practically invite teasing if they published it under their own name.]
But, he also read Twilight of his own free will, so... uh, make of that what you will.
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[Headtilt.]
So, uh, scratch the interfaith stuff. This could be more interesting.
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Well... shit, I guess I have nothing better to do. Why not.
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