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)
driftfleet2018-02-22 12:47 pm
collegedropout) wrote in driftfleet2018-02-22 12:47 pm
Video / Action. Soulless Sam's My Soulless Jam
Who: Soulless Sam and you!
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: SS Bloodsport, a bar on one of them warmer planets, Iskaulit, etc.
When: Feb. 22nd and around that time. Let me know if you have any specific ideas for a thread at![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
simpledog! :)
... Listen here really closely, buddy, because I'm really not in the mood for parlor tricks — whoever this is, whatever spell or enchantment you've got going on here, it's not going to last forever. Fairy, djinn, trickster, you name it: everyone knows space is off-limits whackytown and nobody's taking you seriously. I'm not interested in shaking any green little alien hands, but I'm more than happy to go back to that pretty blue and green sphere they call Earth.
Don't make me start trying to speak E.T. today, or I'll be pissed.
[... Sam, you okay, buddy?
The people about the SS Bloodsport will certainly be surprised to find Sam's kind of confused, hand on his gun at his hip. Careful not to spook him, he might pull the damn thing and aim it at you with little concern over who the hell you are.
Clearly, someone has been... backdated, so to speak, by a glitch. What may not be more obvious to the naked eye is what he's been glitched back to — that is... soulless. Yep, Sam's soulless at the moment, which means a few things: one, emotions are kind of a difficult landmine; two, the things that made Sam Sam may be shaken loose or gone altogether; three, he has no filter; four, he has no conscience. But hey, as long as you're not trying to kill him or you're not in his way during a hunt or something, you'll be juuust fine.
Though, anyone who can sense souls or life may notice the lack of something distinctly human there.
I mean, he's human. But he's also missing something, yanno?
The sex drive is super intact, don't you worry. That's why when he stops by the bar on the nearest planet after doing some manual labor there, he's more than content to sneak glances at pretty ladies when nobody is looking — just before smooth-talking his way into their little black books. In fact, he may just be hitting on a Drift Fleeter, because he has no clue who the hell anyone is, and the more human you look, the better — more preferable. Hey, he's all for trying new things, but banging the more obvious aliens is still a tentative eyebrow raise. Regardless, soulless or not, he's more than happy to be a gentleman, because a happy bedfellow is a happy Winchester.
... At this point he's accepted (with the most skeptical grimace ever) the idea that he's really in space. So. You know.
Might as well work with it. It's not like he feels one way or another about it, other than thinking it's kind of ridiculous]
[He can also be found on the Iskaulit, working out. Looking super fly.
... Like, what do you want from me, he's from Supernatural. There's gratuitous work-out gifs. It's a requirement with soulless Sam.
Though — he does also look a bit younger in the face. Maybe just a little...? A few years?]
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: SS Bloodsport, a bar on one of them warmer planets, Iskaulit, etc.
When: Feb. 22nd and around that time. Let me know if you have any specific ideas for a thread at
... Listen here really closely, buddy, because I'm really not in the mood for parlor tricks — whoever this is, whatever spell or enchantment you've got going on here, it's not going to last forever. Fairy, djinn, trickster, you name it: everyone knows space is off-limits whackytown and nobody's taking you seriously. I'm not interested in shaking any green little alien hands, but I'm more than happy to go back to that pretty blue and green sphere they call Earth.
Don't make me start trying to speak E.T. today, or I'll be pissed.
[... Sam, you okay, buddy?
The people about the SS Bloodsport will certainly be surprised to find Sam's kind of confused, hand on his gun at his hip. Careful not to spook him, he might pull the damn thing and aim it at you with little concern over who the hell you are.
Clearly, someone has been... backdated, so to speak, by a glitch. What may not be more obvious to the naked eye is what he's been glitched back to — that is... soulless. Yep, Sam's soulless at the moment, which means a few things: one, emotions are kind of a difficult landmine; two, the things that made Sam Sam may be shaken loose or gone altogether; three, he has no filter; four, he has no conscience. But hey, as long as you're not trying to kill him or you're not in his way during a hunt or something, you'll be juuust fine.
Though, anyone who can sense souls or life may notice the lack of something distinctly human there.
I mean, he's human. But he's also missing something, yanno?
The sex drive is super intact, don't you worry. That's why when he stops by the bar on the nearest planet after doing some manual labor there, he's more than content to sneak glances at pretty ladies when nobody is looking — just before smooth-talking his way into their little black books. In fact, he may just be hitting on a Drift Fleeter, because he has no clue who the hell anyone is, and the more human you look, the better — more preferable. Hey, he's all for trying new things, but banging the more obvious aliens is still a tentative eyebrow raise. Regardless, soulless or not, he's more than happy to be a gentleman, because a happy bedfellow is a happy Winchester.
... At this point he's accepted (with the most skeptical grimace ever) the idea that he's really in space. So. You know.
Might as well work with it. It's not like he feels one way or another about it, other than thinking it's kind of ridiculous]
[He can also be found on the Iskaulit, working out. Looking super fly.
... Like, what do you want from me, he's from Supernatural. There's gratuitous work-out gifs. It's a requirement with soulless Sam.
Though — he does also look a bit younger in the face. Maybe just a little...? A few years?]
no subject
Guess so. Between you and me, I think humans are pretty weird in general.
[Not that he isn't one. He just... is missing key components.]
... But I guess we're okay company, depending on the skillset.
no subject
[there is nothing but agreement in her voice, and only the tiniest bit of an old disdain that's hard to fully shake off. Humans were okay, she guessed, but that was determined on a case by case basis and well, her world was pretty shit when it came to them]
Mm, sometimes you are. But company with my own kind is rare, so I usually have to suffer human company most of the time.
[she's joking! . . . mostly]
no subject
[He quirks his brows, not sounding particularly offended even with the disdain. He prefers honesty anyway.]
no subject
[she matches his look, eyebrows raised, before her lips quirk and she quickly takes a drink to hide her smile]
no subject
You look like a lot of things — but not suffering, no.
[He points a finger at himself, looking kind of content with the situation.]
How about me? A load of misery, or no?
no subject
There's so many ways she could answer that, and all of them horrible]
No. It seems your skeletons have remained in the closet for today.
[she went with the least horrible answer]
no subject
Skeletons, what skeletons? Better to just toss all those out, when you get the chance.
Life's a lot less miserable that way, right? Not worrying about the past so much.
[Like going to Hell, or dying, or your father going on benders, or your brother losing hope in you.
All the past, the bad — the good. Throw it out, if you can.
That was the initial intention.]
no subject
[geez Sam what is this sudden optimism, if she didn't like you she would have walked away by now]
no subject
... Maybe not tossed. More like not bothering with them. Letting them collect dust. Sit in the corner and think about what they've done. [Spoken rather bluntly, like it's just a fact to be relayed. He doesn't particularly care.] It's easy once you turn off the part of you that cares so much about them.
[Or have it stripped away by chance. Either/or.]
... Should I be doing something else with them?
[A genuine question; sometimes he needs a Jiminy Cricket.]
no subject
But there's just - something about all this that isn't sitting right with her. Something off, but she can't put her finger on it]
I do not know what normal people do with their skeletons.
no subject
[He raises his glass to her, eyebrows raising.]
A toast to being clueless about normal people and their skeletons?
no subject
To being clueless, I suppose.