and the demons gonna hate

[kickingand]

WHO: Dean AND Sam, Jeff, Lucifer, and ANYONE ELSE!
WHERE: around.
WHEN: over the course of the next few days
WHAT: hanging around, making frenemies
WARNINGS: demon dean is his own bag of warnings. will update if anything specific.


ONE. & Sam (Heropa #003)

[ As much as Dean didn't altogether want to, he figured it might as well behoove him to check out his so-called place of residence. Which was comical to begin with - being offered housing straight out of the blue for what? Being a hero? Being the good guy? Wasn't gonna happen - Dean wasn't into it. Maybe once upon a time he would've fallen all over himself for a house with a picket white fence but not this time, not any more. He'd handed over that game weeks ago and now here he was, ol' black eyes, uninterested in being anything more than exactly what he was.

And now without Crowley in tow, meant a whole hell of a lot more.

It didn't imply in the slightest that he'd be staying there, or even spending the slightest lick of time in his brand new house apart from using and abusing the bed, but it implied he had somewhere to sleep (or fuck) if he so chose to. Not that there likely weren't a myriad of other places as well, opportunities at every corner of this new globe, but he'd been handed one on a silver platter and so what would be the point if he didn't at least go look?

Moseying his way along the streets, seemingly minding his own business, Dean finally rolled his eyes up towards the government housing before shrugging his shoulders and heading his way on in. And really, it was much to his chagrin that upon arriving, he just happened to find Sam. The last person on his Most Wanted List. He wasn't upset so much as he was annoyed, his expression immediately flatlining into unamusement, his head cocking slightly as he surveyed the scene in front of him, trying to assess if he should simply blow it off and turn back around, or-- ]

Have a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore, Toto. [ yes, you're toto, sam. dwi. ]


TWO. & Jeff

[ Dealing with Sam required enough of its own bag of tricks so that by the time the whole situation was over and done with, Dean needed more than a few drinks. More like a couple hundred drinks. Meant that the first thing he had to do was find somewhere to acquire them, and walking the city streets of Heropa, Dean made his way into the first bar that became available, some place that wasn't overly skeezy but still rang of easy booze and even easier women. He didn't want to have to put up any kind of a fight to earn himself some entertainment and free flowing whiskey and so he sat himself at the edge of the bar, immediately waving over the bartender and making with the first bottle of whiskey he could point to.

Surveying the scene as he finally settled in, Dean let his gaze wash over the patons, looking from the occasional woman that flashed him a look to the next, never lingering so much as checking out his options. A demon's gotta make good on his options before he finally settles down after all. Except the thing was, he wasn't entirely clueless, and the guy off to the side who kept staring him down, that 'i've seen you somewhere before' look? Was finally beginning to earn his attention and Dean leaned forward, looking back with mild interest, remaining just this side of silent.


THREE. & Lucy

[ Hungover was a perfectly acceptable time to attend church, right?

Right.

Sunglasses perched precariously on his nose, new information in hand, Dean made his way to Miami with the full intention of hearing Lucifer preach. It wasn't as if he really wanted to, no, but he did want to make a statement. Something that he should've made to Crowley by far sooner, something that sang of the fact that he wasn't in this to be used up and worn out like some family pet. He might've been a Knight of Hell, but he had no interested in being used as one as just because Lucifer was here didn't change that fact. No, Dean didn't have any interest in following orders and maybe if he got there first, he could impress upon that fact through sheer prowess.

Making his way through Lucifer's church, he didn't exactly ease his way into the chapel quietly, pushing open the doors in the back and standing still, lifting his chin as he looked over the heads that turned towards him, training his gaze onto the archangel he hadn't seen in oh, five years now. The archangel that had gotten himself caged back up, where he was meant to be. If he were a different man, it would've been a horrifying, terrifying sight, but it wasn't. No, instead it just was what it was, a thing that Dean was going to have to deal with now. At least once Lucifer was done prattling on about nothing. ]


FOUR. & You (a bar somewhere with whiskey)

[ Dean will be at bar's from here to there. No really, pick a city, pick a place, Dean will probably be drinking whiskey there as soon as night falls.

And most of all? He'll be singing really bad karaoke. Would you like to compliment him on his singing skills? Go for it, because they're absolutely atrocious. Which is all a particularly not-so-fancy way of saying that he's basically going to be busy living on as much whiskey as he can consume while not getting drunk at all, which you're also more than welcome to notice. Basically, Dean is going to continue living the life he was leading at home, sequestering himself in the happiness that is whiskey and cheap women heaven.

Meet him there or be square.]


FIVE. & You (wildcard)

[ Have somewhere else you'd like to run into Dean? Want to get into a fistfight while he's grumbling to himself walking down the street? Want me to write you the first starter that comes to mind? Shoot me a PM! I'd be all for starting just about anything, and i'll be tossing other prompts into the comment section. ]

Comments

& Crane

[kickingand]

[ Lucifer's church really was... prominent. To say the least. Which was a powerful kind of disconcerting and had Dean been more of himself, he would have found it atrocious. He would've been horrified, knocked off his feet, running through the streets quizzing people on just how far off the rocker they'd fallen to let an archangel like Lucifer find his way to power amongst the believers. It would've been terrifying and Dean would've chased down every person that rose from the pew's, demanding that they find somewhere else to worship because how could anyone even imagine offering a creature like Lucifer their holier than thou attitudes.

But as it stood, Dean only cared about being used himself, about Lucifer trying to niggle his way under his skin and take advantage of the exact type of demon he'd become. As it stood, he was meandering his way through Lucifer's church, observing what he could, taking in the sights and the sounds and the worker bees, saying little to anyone. Mostly, he was quietly curious, trying to figure out why anyone would even choose to pray under such a merciless creature, why anyone would be stupid enough to pray under the first thing they saw as holy, no matter the repercussions it might cause.

Was nobody really picketing this place? It was kind of astonishing. Dean was left shaking his head, watching another few people filter into the church before picking up his voice just loud enough to be overheard - ] Some kinda asshole, isn't he?

[ Let's start a biblical discussion. ]

[restingstitchface]

[Crane, with a book open on his lap, was sitting in the closest pew. More focused on the good word in his lap than the one coming from the lectern, he licked his lips, wondering how long it would be till he could swing back into work and really pull off the good stuff. The cattle here were fooling themselves into believing truth was what they were seeing. That there was something dangerous out there, but had decided they would always be safe here within these walls.

It wouldn't at all be helpful to point out how incorrect they were at this moment. His thoughts are, however, drowned out by someone talking down his ear. He doesn't like being interrupted in the slightest - and manages to keep a calm, polite expression while idly tapping the pages of his book.]

To an extent.

[He stops the tapping.]

I imagine you would be, too, were you made the scapegoat of everybody's sin?

[kickingand]

[ Dean doesn't particularly care that he's interrupting - he's keen on the idea of conversation with followers of an archangel he doesn't overly like and isn't interested in following, despite his newfound hierarchy in Hell. Lucifer is supposed to be the one he's truly meant to trip over himself for and yet he simply finds himself uninterested and utterly defiant. Maybe it had grown out of annoyance with Crowley but he doesn't care too terribly much, instead interested in making himself a nuisance in the face of those interested in listening.

Not that he really knows for sure if this guy was here for the sermon or just for prayer - it's not like Dean hadn't stepped into a church or two for peculiar reasons in his time. It's not even the slightest bit his business but it doesn't matter. He's still here and he's in the middle of a conversation he's now started just for the hell of it. ]

I don't know, seems like he's earned himself enough of a tribute here. [ Dean shrugs, tone tinged with amusement. ] Almost makes him look popular.

3, obviously

[angelfire]

[ Lucifer was in mid-speech when the rudest thing happened. Someone flung open the doors of his church and then just stood there. Those doors were closed during morning service for a reason, thank you very much. He hated to be interrupted, it was as though someone had absolutely no respect. He faltered, however, when he raised his head to look. The darkness clinging to Dean's soul literally lunged into the bright space, filled it, and for a moment he tripped right over his tongue, mid-sentence. ]

That was really when Heaven went...under. Underwhelming. Heaven is underwhelming.

[ Great. Nice. Smooth.

Lucifer raised his hand, beckoning toward one of his speakers on the sideline to replace him. No way was he going to carry on with his whole spiel when something so very interesting was standing no more than eighty yards away from him. Dean Winchester. Well. What had once been Dean Winchester. He was dead now. As a doornail, if doornails could become demons. And that was the Mark on his arm. The Mark, with its darkness trying to draw him in.

Dean Winchester. Good Dad. Look at him. What a mess! What a delicious mess.

So now, Lucifer stepped down, though he didn't approach the demon right away. He waited until his followers were thundering away in a rousing chorus of "Let the Right One In"--which was sort of a whole horror story of angel possession stuff, before he flickered away, landing again lightly behind Dean. ]

If you've come to fight me, I'm afraid even that curse of yours won't help cut through my protective magic, no matter how cathartic I'm sure it would feel.

LOL OBVS

[kickingand]

[ From underneath his sunglasses, Dean arched an eyebrow at Lucifer's words, amused that he'd tripped himself up over Dean's presence, but no more than that. Instead, he simply followed along with the moment, watching as things unfolded, gaze tumbling from one speaker to the next as Lucifer practically handed over the podium to someone who was apparently more capable for the time being. Or more willing to handle the interests of the crowd when someone by far more interesting was here.

Dean could only guess what it was that Lucifer was seeing, what remnants of his soul stretched out darkly from beneath him. He wasn't going to guess but he wasn't stupid enough to think that he was angling for a complete surprise attack, here.

No, Lucifer would suss him out in an instant. That didn't mean that Dean still couldn't impress upon his own points.

In an instant, Lucifer stepped in behind him and Dean scowled darkly, chin tipping towards his shoulder to start attempting to look behind himself. The annoying chorus of people was already starting to work his headache up to a fevered pitch but he made no move to act on his frustrations, just stood stock still and restrained himself. Something he was mildly capable of doing, though it tore him up from inside to out, felt as if he was being pulled open just because he wasn't throwing an elbow back into Lucifer's nose. ]

If I was here to beat your face in, I would've done it already.

[angelfire]

[ And that was true. Lucifer wasn't going to stand at the front of the church giving a ridiculous speech when there was actual prey to be hunted. Dean, the Mark, the Darkness itself coiling under the surface. You had to be an archangel to really appreciate it. You had to be Lucifer, still humming from being so close to the Darkness himself, for all those years before he'd turned to Cain. Truly, there was no greater pleasure than to seek his own entertainment, because Heaven knew that boredom was easy, and breaking it apart was... Oh, when you found something interesting, you had to jump right on it.

And Dean was four different kinds of interesting all rolled up into one. Funny. He'd always been far more interested in the younger brother, for obvious reasons, but this was an opportunity, and Lucifer wasn't about to let it slip through his finger. ]

Just because it wasn't the plan doesn't mean it isn't inevitable. I'm told I'm super annoying.

[ Besides, he would sort of like to see what happens when Dean's fist lands and the punch actually knocks him senseless. It'd be funny. Maybe not as funny as the irony of him being interesting for once, but... ]

It's itching under your skin, isn't it? I know. That prickling need to just cause someone a little pain, so that you can stop the pounding inside your own brain for a minute or so. Go ahead. It'll make you feel better.

let's see how many heartbroken icons i have and can abuse.

[hollowly]

( being called a hero is one thing; there have been times in the past in which both he and dean have been called as much, for saving families and loved ones from the threats of the supernatural, the demonic, the like, but it's another thing entirely to get free housing out of it, something that he's already having a hard time wrapping his head around. ( granted, he's been a little confused since he'd first arrived, and it doesn't look like that's going to change anytime soon, so he might as well take it with the proverbial grain of salt and make do with what he's been given. )

so, he'd gone to check out the place. nearly as soon as he'd been able, and while he thinks it might have been too much to think that he would be housed alone, when the door opens and that familiar body walks through, he's almost positive he stops breathing.

( he's already spent so much time looking for him, following any and every lead he could get his hands on, using questionable means to get answers that he wouldn't have been able to get otherwise – and here he is, in the flesh, just as easily as if he'd sent up some unknown signal to call him here. like it was nothing. )

sam straightens to his full height, rolling his shoulders back and squaring them, the breath that he's been trying to force down into his lungs catching in the back of his throat and all but punching back out of him in an audible sigh. his expression is first bewildered, surprised, and then it melts into something inexplicable as his heart squeezes behind his ribs, the blood draining from his face like he's just seen a ghost.

for how quickly dean had disappeared, he might as well have.

he clears his throat, shoves his hands into his pockets. you can do this, sam. )

Yeah, I kinda figured that out already. ( what in the world do you even say to your brother when he's been missing for weeks, when he doesn't seem to care, when nothing seems to matter? )

and i don't have enough grumpy demon icons, what a pity

[kickingand]

[ Dean all but heaves a dramatic sigh, looking for all the world to be a man put out, exhausted, stretched to his very limits. Just by being in Sam's presence. It's a drain on his being, to have to tolerate this kind of thing and at least half of it is farce. He doesn't actually care as much as he's putting out and that unto itself has a purpose, is meant to deter further emotions, as if trying to force Sam into cooperating has ever gone particularly well. Trying to make Sammy feel as if he's tired of this all means he'll act like it's no big deal and go back to letting him go is unlikely, but--

He's gotta try.

Otherwise, the alternatives could get kind of bloody.

Folding his arms over his chest and leaning back on his heels, Dean hums a note of discontentment, shaking his head and staring off somewhere above Sam's head, annoyed but entirely patient. ]

Guess this is the part where I leave the house to you, then.

[ His gaze snaps back to Sam and his eyebrows lift. He has no idea how many other people are supposed to be occupying the space as well, but his earlier plans? Are already out the window - he's not going to be using this as a crash pad if Sam's going to be here, too. No, the problems that would entail are numerous, and Dean is already planning on inching his way out of here. Not that Sam will let him go without a fight and he knows it, but he can try to head it off through placation. Right? ]

that is such a sad life.

[hollowly]

( and here it comes. the deflection, the apathy, the shoving him away – mentally, if not so much physically, and even though he's been steeling himself for it over the span of his last few breaths, it's hearing those words, seeing just how much dean does not want to be here that he realizes that there was nothing he could have done to prepare himself for this. no amount of psyching himself up or putting up walls between himself and his brother could have made this anything else than what it is.

painful.

granted, dean's efforts at getting him to give up deserve an a for effort, he's not about to be broken that easily, not when he's spent so long searching for him and here, here he is, in front of him like he'd never tried to leave at all. his heart might be broken, something else in him tangibly so, and he can all but hear the broken bits and pieces rattling all around each other, grating, cutting deep and leaving him bleeding.

he watches him for a moment, his stance, his posture, everything about it screaming i'm seconds away from bolting and maybe just a little bit of if you try anything, i'll beat you bloody. it's not exactly a side of him that he hasn't seen before, but it's never been this deep-seated, this straight-laced and plain. )

You're not leaving. ( he says it with conviction, having already decided that he isn't about to let him go without a fight. dean knows that, because of course he does, because not enough has changed that he doesn't suddenly still know his little brother from the inside out.

let it get bloody, if it has to. he isn't letting this go. )

& Daisy

[kickingand]

[ The streets of Heropa were a dastardly place.

Alright, not really. But Dean had a habit, now, of starting fights just about wherever he went. It was by far easier inside the institution that was a sleazy ass bar, but that didn't change too terribly much no matter where Dean went, if only because he brought the violence with him. The predisposition to see anger and hate anywhere and everywhere, no matter the cause. It spurned him on, watching it in others, acting upon it himself, wishing he could be a part of it for one second just to ebb the constant need to clock someone upside the head and feel better.

That didn't mean he was incapable of going a few seconds without starting something. Sort of. He still had a good amount of sightseeing to do, figuring out why he was here and what here was exactly. It wasn't as if other universes had a great dire need for demons after all, and Dean was sure he'd been perfectly fine where he was. Still, trying not to think too heavily on anything at all moment, Dean found himself turned around by rising voices in the street, turning and coming upon two men starting up on Import politics.

At which point, Dean really does have to get up and involved, just for the thrill of it. Because why the hell not? ] Hey, not all of us are freaks of nature.

[ And that would be a fist coming for his face. Bring it. ]

[morethan084]

[Daisy was just heading back home when she heard grunting and a sound she is very familiar with, someone getting socked right in the face. It was hard not to hear when it was late and the only other sounds was the distant ones of crickets and air condition machines whirling.

Spotting the fight up ahead, Daisy was quick to react when she saw two guys beating on another. Bringing her hand up, she used her power to quickly knock the two away from him and onto their asses. Can you say bruised tailbones?]

Stay the hell away from him.

[She knew imPort violence when she saw it, even if it's yet to happen to her. Eyes still trained on them, Daisy closed the distance between her and the other guy.]

You okay?

[kickingand]

[ Getting punched came with its own rush of suggestion, the immediate urge to fight back, throwing in a right hook just because it was to hard not to. The fight was on within seconds, swings being thrown without nary an end in sight and a small crowd beginning to grow just as Dean was getting his groove on.

Which was just around when he was blown back, knocked on his ass feet away where he'd just been about to fire off a kick into the guy's tender bits, blinking and looking marginally confused by the whole thing.

It was when he looked up that he found his honor being defended and he quirked an eyebrow, both interested and amused that he was being stood up for by... well, someone he didn't know. Nothing he could complain about but it was utterly unnecessary and yet - why not abuse it? Put on a brave face and act the man he used to be.

Throwing a crooked grin up towards the woman, he slowly pushed his way up to hi feet, giving his eyes a rub. ]

I can take a punch and still come out swingin', but hey- thanks for the save.

Four!

[shittybirthday]

[ Behind the bar of the dingy dive bar is a big, burly guy in a lumberjack red flannel shirt and tattered jeans who's wiping out a wet beer glass with a dishcloth. The fed-up look on his hard, world-weary face might have something to do with the fact that he's had it up to here with having to deal with people all night (because Joel is not, at all, a people person, and now the bar is approaching closing time, he's the only person left to serve drinks), but it also probably has a lot to do with that asshole who keeps hogging the karaoke machine with shitty music and shitty singing.

This big, burly guy is, of course, the same guy who's been serving Karaoke Asshole drinks most of the night, and when Karaoke Asshole finally takes an intermission and returns to the bar, Joel remains rooted on the spot behind the bar, still wiping out the beer glass with the flat, fed-up look on his face now directed straight at Karaoke Asshole.

Not even gonna ask what he wants. Just gonna stare at the guy with barely contained irritation as he thumps down the now dry beer glass and picks up another wet glass to wipe. ]

[kickingand]

[ Dean couldn't probably care less that he's being annoying. It's one of those side effects of being a demon, that whole devil may care (hah, what a terrible joke) attitude, not being particularly bothered that he's had more than a few things tossed at him while up on stage singing horrible, horrible tunes. At least he's aware that he's being a pain in the ass, but that hasn't stopped him even remotely, too far gone to his own inclinations to warrant taking anyone into consideration.

Hopping back up to the bar, Dean already looks like he's anticipating another drink being slid his way but the bartender looks - just like the majority of the dive bar - none too pleased with his antics. Something that just strikes a grin onto his features, abusing the situation for his own lewd benefit. Folding his arms on top of the bar, Dean just looks forward a bit, more than interested in reeling in the bartender for a bit of angry conversation. ]

Oh c'mon, it wasn't that bad.

[shittybirthday]

[ Glass dried, Joel thumps it upside onto the rack of other clean glasses and tosses the damp hand towel to drape over his shoulder.

He meets the guy's cocky, taunting grin with a flat, impatient look. ]

I ain't servin' you another drink if you plan on gettin' back up there.

Bar at the Hotel Castile?

[hypodermicgurl]

There was, tragically, no karaoke at this bar. What it lacked in that it made up for in a bar tender that didn't particularly give a shit about collecting the tab from an attractive looking man, no matter how many whiskeys he downed. It was James March's hotel, she just haunted it. Money wasn't anything compared to a good conversation.

Sally slides a whiskey across the bar to the guy and leans one elbow on the counter, cupping her chin as she took him in.

"Celebrating or mourning?"

YES GOOD

[kickingand]

Ah, well - one can make do without any horrible attempts at singing. As long as the whiskey was flowing in extreme quantities he could handle not having another atrocious to sing and instead banking on conversation with patrons and bartender alike, more than amused than he'd seemingly gathered the attention of the woman behind the bar. It was a natural talent, what could he say. Besides, not being yelled at came with its own benefits, and he could just sink into another shot, quirking an offhanded shrug at her question.

"A man can't enjoy himself without a reason?"

four (dive bar in Maurtia Falls)

[cleptes]

[ This was a bar that Bela knew very well (probably too well by this point) and tonight, she felt compelled to sit at a dingy booth with even dingier lights and drink.

The last time she was here, there wasn't a karaoke machine: why was there a karaoke machine? No one in this damn place would use such a thing. They'd get laughed out of the bar. So imagine Bela's surprise when she saw an oh-so familiar person get up to the stage to perform what she guessed was going to be some awful classic rock song.

When Dean is finished, she gives him a round of applause. Complete with a sarcastic expression. ]

That was terrible.

[kickingand]

[ Karaoke isn't exactly his deal now but it sure as hell proves to be entertaining. A fact he had found out with Crowley in tow but apparently remains true even here. Not that he cares that he sucks abysmally at it, especially after one too many whiskeys, but he still uses and abuses the possibility, hamming it up for his own personal amusement until he's all done, hoping off the stage only to--

Well.

Lookit that.

Dean pauses for a moment, watching Bela give him a worthy round of applause until he quirks his head slightly and makes his way on over. His expression is one pure bemusement, surprised to see her because of all the obvious, unspoken reasons, but none too interested in speaking any of them out loud. Instead, he chooses to stick the unemotional and sarcastic, stopping to hover besides her table. ]

Bela. Aren't you a sight for sore eyes.

four (some bar in heropa idk)

[hasitsthorns]

[ Karaoke night? Count her in. Rose could hardly refuse such a potentially fun time. It'll be nice to take her mind off, well, everything. Another world hop and a potentially brand new life is a lot to take in.

She strolls into the bar just as some mook is Hey, it's make out man! ... Yeah, so, she never actually learned his name therefore that's become his unofficial title for Rose. It's also how she'll be referring to him mentally from now on. What with this being a super hero themed world and all, she thought 'make out man' was pretty clever. Though maybe she should think of something a bit more dignified.

Naaaahhhh. ]

That was the lamest attempt at karaoke I've ever seen.

[ Booooo. For shame, sir. For shame. And nevermind the fact that she's smiling. It was so awful it was funny, okay? ]

perfect X(

[kickingand]

[ Dean isn't even partaking in karaoke to take his mind off anything, it's just there. It's a thing to do and combined with whiskey, it... well, how can he possibly resist? And while he doesn't exactly want to be here - in this fancy new land of Heropa - he doesn't particularly care either; it isn't as if the environment has changed profusely, nor himself within it. It's just a place to be and as long as the dive bars remain as classless as ever, then who the fuck cares.

The heckling though- that sure stays the same.

Walking off the stage, he stops and turns towards the voice, eyebrows arching just a touch. Not from true annoyance, but comical all the same. ]

Sounds like it's your turn, then.

[4] A Bar in Heropa

[wizzardly]

[Rincewind is more of a beer and wine man himself - beer specifically, tonight - but he can respect someone with a taste for liquor. Especially when that someone is rather amusing to watch when they try their hand at karaoke.

Rincewind is here by himself tonight, and he's chosen this bar specifically because he knows it's one where he'll be left alone, even despite the pointed hat and red robes pointing him out as an imPort. He knows he'll get left alone, because it was only a month prior that his magical, murderous Luggage chased a rather obnoxious man and his friends out so well that the man lost his pants to it in the process. Word like that travels fast. So, even with said Luggage off doing gods-knows-what to gods-knew-who far away from here, Rincewind doubts he'll find any trouble. He's here for beer, for company he doesn't have to actually talk to, and currently to watch an amusing karaoke singer.

He even tells the bartender to send Dean a drink on him, once the colored, dancing lights start to dim and the man's last song ends. It seems an appropriate tip for good entertainment. Should Dean look his way, he'll lift his beer towards him in cheers.]

[kickingand]

[ Well, at least someone is entertained by his bullshit.

Not that he cares much one way or another, but that's not the point. This is really all about himself, just like it was at home, though some might see it as a strange attempt to drown his sorrows, Dean would have to have any sorrows left for that to hold true. Instead, he's just doing it because he can, because the whiskey tells him to, because it's there and he's living it up. Who knows, he doesn't really need a reason, does he?

Back to his seat at the bar, it's entirely true that the last thing he expects is for booze to be sent his way. When he finally glances up, he doesn't know what he's looking for but when he lays eyes on pointy hat guy, he blinks a few times and cocks his head, utterly bemused. Apparently he missed the local LARP meet up and it takes him a few more seconds to get past that before he's grinning, all too entertained, lifting up a hand to offer a cheerful salute of sorts. ]

two, with the quickest of replies!

[textualhealing]

[Turns out that Jeff's idea of a quiet drink or five never really turns out to be all the quiet. If it's not women, it's fans, and if it's not fans it's familiar faces keeping his attention. He's not surprised to see an imPort in the area, but the fact it's a familiar face catches him by repressed surprise, staring unashamedly like Jeff's waiting to be recognised in return.]

Dean, right? [That staring that's being done in return in just begging for some sort of comment to be made, even if Jeff's somewhat unsure of what tone he should be going for. If this guy recognises him, he may have to tread carefully, but fuck it, he can worry about that when it gets to it. It's not like they've ever talked much anyway.]

psh as if i mind!

[kickingand]

[ Too bad there's absolutely no recognition here, but at the offering of his own name, Dean's eyebrows raise with interest. Nobody is really supposed to be recognizing him here, even if the Winchesters aren't exactly unknown in his own world. He still doesn't usually get picked out by face alone and so... color him intrigued. More than he was before. ]

You got it in one. [ And he sounds anything but sure of why that should be the case, but he doesn't exactly seem bothered by it either. ] Any reason I should know you?