| |
[Oct. 8th, 2008|12:50 pm] |
WHO: John/Mary
WHAT: Reacquaintance
WHERE: John's place
WHEN: Backdated, just after Dean's wedding
WARNINGS: Um, NSFW. Definitely, if John has his way.
A/N: I'm restarting this because I fail at logging and John wants his wife, goddammit. And for those of you who watch Supernatural, John dates from somewhere in S3 - that is, he has knowledge of Dean making his deal, but not of Dean dying. The recent John/Mary backstory doesn't come into play. (Mary might know about it, but John doesn't, and I'd like to keep it that way. These two have enough angst.)
Mary had agreed to come over and it felt like their first date again. It was fucking weird to be scared of anything that wasn't a demon. John sighed, looking around the small flat. Dean had wanted him to move into their huge house, but at least for now, it didn't feel right. Maybe it would soon.
There was a knock at the door, and he'd wrenched it open in seconds. Mary was standing there looking just like she had always looked, and damn if it didn't make him shiver. "Goose walking on my grave," he murmured, pulling her lightly inside and going for a kiss. |
|
|
| |
[Oct. 8th, 2008|07:42 pm] |
Who: Killychick and Healerlady
Where: MiniMordhaus
When: shortly after this
Why: teh lulz. Duh.
Warnings: Not likely with these two, will update if they decide to go gatorbaiting
After her re-re-re-re-interview Petit had decided to take a walking tour of Mordhaus, just to familiarize herself with the layout, never knew when that kind of thing might come in handy, when she may need to make a quick escape, or lead a charge. She'd always had a fairly good sense of direction, so even the labyrinthine corridors were no real challenge. |
|
|
| |
[Oct. 8th, 2008|10:45 pm] |
Who: The younger rockstar and the hippie
Where: Mini-Mordhaus
When: Now-ish
Warnings: Probably? I honestly don't know, swearing, drinking and probably drugs are a given
Skwisgaar had promised Toki that he'd give living in Mordhaus another shot, so far he was on day two, and it was going... alright, maybe even as much as good, but he wasn't going to go that far just yet.
At that particular moment he was in one of the small lounge rooms, sprawled across a chair sideways, cigarette between his lips, guitar in his lap, just playing whatever happened to cross his mind, most of it not actual songs and not even parts of actual songs. Just drifting through, as it were. |
|
|