( Human in the most technical sense is a hilariously not-inaccurate description that Dean would both dislike and have a hard time disagreeing with. You die as much as he has, you see the crap he has, you get as close to becoming a demon as he has, you become a god damn vampire like he has, definitions start getting real blurry. He'd like to cling desperately to the whole humanity concept, though — call it a little ingrained prejudice against pretty much any other species. Product of his upbringing. He's better about it now than he was. One of his best friends is an angel and the other is a vampire, what a time to be alive.
He hums out an affirmative noise, not quite a grunt, that somehow clearly reads you can say that again.
And now comes the weird assessment of how to answer the unspoken curiosity obviously floating around about it now without oversharing — not because he gives much of a crap about telling it, but because his life story is a goddamn mile long and more than most people would probably be interested in hearing.
( Unless you're from that stupid universe where his life is a TV show, but that's gotta be some freak one-off. )
He'll offer up a slice of commentary from the lighter end of the spectrum that might clarify a little. )
I was alive in Purgatory. Dead for hell. Time... moves differently down there. Four months on Earth, forty years in the pit. Guess it depends on your perspective, but if we're having a dick measuring contest here, I'm claiming my honorary seventy, grandpa.
( Still dry, still joking, it's just a more grim, less of the haha I'm an idiot brand of humor than he tosses out to any passing jackass. Welcome to the darker, next level gallows humor floating around in his brain. It's reserved for VIPs. Congratulations.
It lends itself to a little more serious concentration, too — meaning his next knife is a perfect half-turn dead goddamn center. Definitely won't last through the rest of the board, but when he's in the zone, he's in the zone. )
no subject
He hums out an affirmative noise, not quite a grunt, that somehow clearly reads you can say that again.
And now comes the weird assessment of how to answer the unspoken curiosity obviously floating around about it now without oversharing — not because he gives much of a crap about telling it, but because his life story is a goddamn mile long and more than most people would probably be interested in hearing.
( Unless you're from that stupid universe where his life is a TV show, but that's gotta be some freak one-off. )
He'll offer up a slice of commentary from the lighter end of the spectrum that might clarify a little. )
I was alive in Purgatory. Dead for hell. Time... moves differently down there. Four months on Earth, forty years in the pit. Guess it depends on your perspective, but if we're having a dick measuring contest here, I'm claiming my honorary seventy, grandpa.
( Still dry, still joking, it's just a more grim, less of the haha I'm an idiot brand of humor than he tosses out to any passing jackass. Welcome to the darker, next level gallows humor floating around in his brain. It's reserved for VIPs. Congratulations.
It lends itself to a little more serious concentration, too — meaning his next knife is a perfect half-turn dead goddamn center. Definitely won't last through the rest of the board, but when he's in the zone, he's in the zone. )