Sam Winchester (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
collegedropout) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
driftfleet2016-04-25 09:11 pm
collegedropout) wrote in driftfleet2016-04-25 09:11 pm
Entry tags:
OTA || BELLYFLOPS INTO THE TOXIC SMOG
Who: Sam and you!
Broadcast: N/A
Action: The smoggy area!
When: The night of the party!
Warnings: Sam's getting shot by a drunk bro so that's a warning I guess if that concerns you. That's gonna be MATURE!!!!
(Feel free to find him at any point in this post, and don't sweat any timeline botching. ;))
Sam goes out to look at the smoggy tides, because he's an idiot who is curious about everything; it's always been sort of a problem for him, even before he was brought into the family business. Curiosity kills the giant lanky cat. Only nah, he's fine. He's got his mask with him, he's got his warm tuxedo and coat, he's not at all minding the mud he's getting on his really nice shoes. How often's he gonna wear those anyway? He's gonna hang out with certain spacegals-turned-grounders, of course. Looking for the patches of fog that exist out there, taking notes and overall just being completely reckless. What, they're allowed the luxury when they're already from reckless professions back home, right?
It's all pretty interesting. Sam'll be on the look-out for anyone lingering out here, though, tie undone and hanging loosely around his neck.
He can be found observing the toxic clouds, looking (un)surprisingly melancholy. Mostly because the clouds he sees? They're forming the issues most heavily weighing on Sam's mind as of late — it's himself he's looking at, of course. Him, who is growing devil horns and sprouting a tail, so utterly ridiculous and cartoony that Sam chuckles darkly and wonders if the toxic smog has a sense of dark, dark humor. It almost seems to crackle with the weight of Lucifer's cloud presence alone, but Sam knows better. It's just his own head, messing with him. The Lucifer-shaped mist laughs in his head alone, a memory from his own painful dealings.
Fuck you, buddy, he thinks. He eventually moves to cross through the smog sometime later, into the other side of the embankment.
Good to see what's out there, right?
Good to keep up to date on this world. Plus, there could be some spooky monsters out here that nobody's talking about, causing these toxic smog clouds. You just never know. The last world he was in had evil death clouds, so this isn't a crazy idea, he swears.
THE MORNING AFTER:
Feel free to run into Sam as he prepares himself some coffee; he looks a bit like he drank way too damn much the night before. But really, he kinda just got shot in the arm the night before and his forearm is hurting something fierce. Crushing pain pills and antibiotics into tea is totally acceptable methods of medicating yourself, right? Cool. He'll be discreet as he can be about it, but it's kinda a fool's game to try and hide something that hurts and will continue being a pain for a few weeks.
Let him know how your masquerade went, since he left early.
He really wants to know, okay! It's important to keep up on the latest news and gossip. Obviously.
Broadcast: N/A
Action: The smoggy area!
When: The night of the party!
Warnings: Sam's getting shot by a drunk bro so that's a warning I guess if that concerns you. That's gonna be MATURE!!!!
(Feel free to find him at any point in this post, and don't sweat any timeline botching. ;))
Sam goes out to look at the smoggy tides, because he's an idiot who is curious about everything; it's always been sort of a problem for him, even before he was brought into the family business. Curiosity kills the giant lanky cat. Only nah, he's fine. He's got his mask with him, he's got his warm tuxedo and coat, he's not at all minding the mud he's getting on his really nice shoes. How often's he gonna wear those anyway? He's gonna hang out with certain spacegals-turned-grounders, of course. Looking for the patches of fog that exist out there, taking notes and overall just being completely reckless. What, they're allowed the luxury when they're already from reckless professions back home, right?
It's all pretty interesting. Sam'll be on the look-out for anyone lingering out here, though, tie undone and hanging loosely around his neck.
He can be found observing the toxic clouds, looking (un)surprisingly melancholy. Mostly because the clouds he sees? They're forming the issues most heavily weighing on Sam's mind as of late — it's himself he's looking at, of course. Him, who is growing devil horns and sprouting a tail, so utterly ridiculous and cartoony that Sam chuckles darkly and wonders if the toxic smog has a sense of dark, dark humor. It almost seems to crackle with the weight of Lucifer's cloud presence alone, but Sam knows better. It's just his own head, messing with him. The Lucifer-shaped mist laughs in his head alone, a memory from his own painful dealings.
Fuck you, buddy, he thinks. He eventually moves to cross through the smog sometime later, into the other side of the embankment.
Good to see what's out there, right?
Good to keep up to date on this world. Plus, there could be some spooky monsters out here that nobody's talking about, causing these toxic smog clouds. You just never know. The last world he was in had evil death clouds, so this isn't a crazy idea, he swears.
THE MORNING AFTER:
Feel free to run into Sam as he prepares himself some coffee; he looks a bit like he drank way too damn much the night before. But really, he kinda just got shot in the arm the night before and his forearm is hurting something fierce. Crushing pain pills and antibiotics into tea is totally acceptable methods of medicating yourself, right? Cool. He'll be discreet as he can be about it, but it's kinda a fool's game to try and hide something that hurts and will continue being a pain for a few weeks.
Let him know how your masquerade went, since he left early.
He really wants to know, okay! It's important to keep up on the latest news and gossip. Obviously.
no subject
She follows behind Sam, letting him hack away at the growth. There's no reason for both of them to do that.]
Yeah, okay. What's your take on it?
no subject
... A nerdy kid. Shut up.]
Well... I think it could be anything, really. I think the likelihood of it all being the negative effects of toxic smog on the brain is pretty damn probable... but there's a side of me that also can't discredit something bigger happening there. That the soul is actually involved, or magic's playing a hand in it.
I'd be horrible at my job if I thought any other way, honestly.