abraxaslogs | ℝ𝕠𝕒𝕕𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕤𝕖 𝕂𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕠𝕜𝕖 ℕ𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥

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ℝ𝕠𝕒𝕕𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕤𝕖 𝕂𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕠𝕜𝕖 ℕ𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 | 𝕆𝕡𝕖𝕟 𝕥𝕠 𝔸𝕝𝕝

Who: Jo Harvelle, Dean Winchester, and YOU
Where: The Horizon, Jo & Dean’s Domain, Harvelle’s Roadhouse
When: October 1st
What: KARAOKE PARTY
Warnings: Drinking, swearing, terrible singing, war, death, destruction; will add as needed

𝟎𝟏 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐫

The Hunter Bar in the Horizon is lit against dusk creeping closer to the black of night. Do your best not to wander off the road into the spooky, grey, washed-out woods, no matter the noises or movement you hear from beyond what you can see of the first rows of trees. The bar looks like it always does; no unique decor is needed to invite a world's worth of weary Summoned who've been working their asses off in Libertas.

Outside the door is a sign posted: "No spectators, You drink you sing."

There are drinks aplenty at the bar. One-third of the bartop is filled with bottles and glasses so that people can serve themselves across the evening. Still, you'll often find Jo or Dean willing to swing behind the bar and mix you up something new (or, in Jo's case, challenge you to mystery shots or a drinking duel; in Dean's case, you may get heckled or have drinks foisted on you so that you'll get loose enough to join the singers).

Off to the far side of the bar, you'll find tables lined with food before you hit the raised pool table area. Any and every middle American snack food you can think of seems to have found some space. On the news board, beside the free-services drinks and the food table, you'll discover prominently displayed flyers for Julie's Halloween Bash, as well.

𝟎𝟐 𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐛 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐜

This is the time, and this is the place for you to get the house a-rockin'. Sign-up for a song, and when it's your turn, get yourself up on the stage to wow your nearest and dearest and all those other people you haven't managed to bump into (yet). Cheering and light-hearted booing, catcalling, and song-bombing are absolutely encouraged. Dean will grab the mic throughout the night to call out people, getting the crowd to chant their names until they take the stage.

Everything is welcome. Get out there and have some fun for the night.

𝟎𝟑 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐉𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐱
{ Playing low in the background anytime people aren’t singing. }

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

[ For requests or to plot things, you can reach me at wanderlustlover or ɑรรɑรรiɳcɑptɑiɳ#6353 ] ]

01 → ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀʀ

If you've had the pleasure of seeing Jo happy in the past two months—and you should count yourself lucky if you managed that much—it's nothing like tonight. Jo's smile is a golden three-alarm spotlight; apparently, this is what you get when a hunter finally gets to be a hunter after waiting for ~~f o r e v e r~~ two months. She's got a new outfit for the night, mixing a little of home and a little of ren faire's not-worst. The whole thing is skin-tight in alternating colors: pants, tiniest wants-to-be-a-mini-skirt, laces covering more of her back than cloth, and knee-high boots.

She's graceful on the floor, all swagger and ease; has a hello for every person who walks through the door, and for once, there's no hitch in her giddy up when it comes to getting behind the bar to make people a drink. She's as equally likely to give you advice on what to make yourself, to make you a drink, or challenge you to shots.

You'll find her there and a lot of everywhere else: playing a mean game of pool up on the platform area, equally joining in and heckling knife chess, wandering through people, making sure everyone's got drinks and nothing else they need.

02 → ɢʀᴀʙ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍɪᴄ

The night is all about that mic.

From out of nowhere, Horizon's Roadhouse has produced a full-out setup. Raised area for the singer(s), multiple mics at the ready there, screens for the lyrics facing both the singers and the audience. A seemingly endless database of music, pumping out through standing speakers around the room and the ceiling. Whatever you're feeling like, it's ready for you to start belting it out.

Jo had never been entirely sold on the whole idea (it was for them, the brave and bold rescuers of Libertas, not her, after all; no matter that she was one of them), but she's on cloud nine tonight instead. Dropping into free chairs at tables now and then, for heckling and singing along as people go up, keeping light conversation which each new set of people as she does. The same, there's no reluctance when she gets egged on to go next, stepping it, all clipped boot steps, and free hand not holding the mic, twisting the cord coming off it around her finger. "All right, settle down, hoodlums."

The music starts with deep bass and an electric guitar. Her right boot toe taps, not looking at the words, already knowing this deeper in her veins than breathing, with no worries about her ability to sing.

" I saw him dancin' there by the record machine
I knew he must a been about seventeen"

[ Tags for singing alone, in locations, and even doing more songs by herself and in groups with her welcome here. ]

03 → FREE ETC

Throughout the night, Jo can be found anywhere people are or need her.

Come the later end of the night, she's back at the bar. This time she's seated on the bartop, right to the side of the self-help bottle section, boots on one of the stools. There's a bowl of chips and a few fingers of whiskey in the glass at her side. Jo's watching the group of those still going, saying goodbye as people head out, chiding them to be safe on their way home (as if they aren't just going to wake up from meditating in a second; it's the sentiment).

For the most part, there's a pleased quiet tug to the edges of her mouth, watching everyone. A quiet, tender thing; familiar in all its newness. Hard-working people in this room taking a moment in the dark black of night to breathe, before they're right back at it tomorrow. (Her home, still hers, still doing what it should be doing;

still here, still hers,

even after she went hunting today, too.)

( Feel free to assume Dean hopped on the mic and peer pressured your character into singing, potentially with a group "chant their name" thing if you need a reason to get someone reluctant up on stage.

Open prompts to follow! )

( If your character would attend or participate and you'd like people to know of anything noteworthy they did, but you don't vibe threading it out feel free to put a summary here! )

Kyle would've popped in real quick to scope things out, seemingly take a long time picking what song to sing, then mysteriously bonce before it's his turn. Appearance-wise he's a 6'1" dude with shoulder length black hair tied back and dressed in a long black duster, probably mildly looks like he walked out of the 90s but in reality won't start trying to tell you how while you were learning karaoke he was studying the blade.

Nadine's hoping to just sort of blend in and avoid actually singing - it's not something she does publicly. In fact, she's pretty sure only Jaskier has ever heard her. She sings to him. It's sort of a thing she associates with him, since she'd first done it that day in winter when they'd ended up in the barn together.

But it's one of those events where most people she knows are going to be there, so she figures she should at least pop in. And it gives her an excuse to ride her bike from her domain to Dean's. So she shows up in old jeans and a white t-shirt under a green flannel shirt, which she thinks is perfectly appropriate for hanging out at a bar. Which is right where she heads, taking a seat on a stool and nodding in greeting to Jo.

Who looks like she's having the night of her life.

"You sure look like you're having a good time."

It's a good night.

He's not as drunk as he's let on, but he's pleasantly buzzed — only some of it from imaginary alcohol. The rest of it's from the night, from the energy he gets when something like this happens. His people, almost all of them, all pressed into the same room, laughing, singing, living, happy. It charges his battery nearly full.

(Nearly. Never completely, not with one particular person missing.)

In any case, it leaves him in a good enough mood that it feels right to do this now — to sidle up beside her after she says goodbye to one of the last people still around. He nudges her shoulder with his bicep once they're clear.

"Hey," it's a greeting, but not a greeting. He's not waiting for a hello back. He nods his head in what must seem like an arbitrary direction — toward what was once Ash's door. "You got a minute? I wanna show you something."

Jo watches the door swing closed before she looks up at Dean, still leaning close after nudging her. His expression all ... she's not quite sure yet. Something important. But not serious. Imaginary or not; she's a bit more flushed than usual. But deciding that the battleground of the bar was challenging people that if they could drink 3-5 shots faster than her, she'd sing, and if they lost, they had to; well, that would do it to a girl.

Especially one who only lost one of those rounds.

(She still swears the third glass was wet;

but everyone got a round of Hit Me With Your Best Shot for it
And she loved that just about as much as winning before or after.)

She glanced at the crowd still left—primarily small and all of them well known—before looking back. Her mouth tilts crookedly, already designed on what to say post-business check, as she uses her hands on the side of the stool, just under her, to boost off.

"Sure. I think I can spare one minute for you."

Edited 2022-10-07 04:14 (UTC)

"Nadine!"

If you thought Jo's smile couldn't brighten another click, that's another disillusion down. Another thing to remember when the co-mingled high of the day isn't as high as it is now; but that's a concern for another day. Another Jo. Another anything but now. And Jo's going to ignore that and ride the high of this as far as it'll take her tonight.

"I'm glad you could make it." Jo leaned up on her side of the bar. "Get your something to soften the take-off before everyone here starts shouting to the roof with whatever gets picked next again?"

[ Eddie is relatively new to this whole Horizon thing, and he hasn’t quite found his footing with the whole thing. It’s still kind of freaky and he’s always afraid of what he’s going to stumble across. Luckily today, it’s the Roadhouse. And even luckier, he’s the perfect sort of patron. He has no intention of avoiding karaoke, and he gets up there more than once, putting his entire heart into a handful of metal songs with a performance style he’s clearly ripped off from Ronnie James Dio. It makes sense, though, because he sings two Dio songs and he’s starting in on his third in a row when he’s finally kicked off of the mic. ]

I get it, I get it. I’ll come back when you guys find your sense of good taste, ‘kay?

[ It’s a light-hearted jab, and he sweeps into a deep and dramatic bow on his way off the stage.

He figures he should at least flick through the jukebox and see what he’s been missing. There’s some great tunes on there, but when he sees the words Enter Sandman - Metallica, he lets out a strange, high pitched sort of noise. Metallica has only just released their third album in his world, and listening to it was basically a religious experience for Eddie. The fact that there’s more is practically a miracle. ]

Holy shit.

[ His voice is an awed whisper and his eyes are wide. He looks like he’s just seen the face of god when the opening chords hit him, and he stands there gripping the jukebox until the songs ends. And then? He immediately starts the song again.

This is absolutely a What’s New Pussycat situation and he will be playing it twenty-one times unless someone stops him. ]

{OOC| I hope it’s not too late to post to this because I promised I would and ran into a busy week! Feel free to wildcard me as well or grab me at

muttonchops if need be!}

[ Jo at the bar—a deceptively small thing, for all that she's winning 4-5 shot drink contests against anyone who takes her on, and bright as a golden storm behind that bar—when she clears up another round of short glasses, sending the looser to the stage with a laugh and a Dean! We got another one here!, before she turns back to the bar area and hears the words from the jukebox.

Jo's heart cranks out a wave of delight as the rickety but sturdy old thing kicks out a well-known song, and the guy's hands clench the sides of it. Rapture looks sweet, even against the backdrop of the new karaoke song starting, badly. She slips out of the three edges bar and comes over to him, looking down at the list. It changes all the time. It feels endless. Except there's only o much of it, of the genres in it. Not that you could listen to it all without not leaving for weeks.

When he hits play again, Jo has a snort, and she slides into view at his side finally. ]

One of your favorites?

"Yeah, I just thought I'd drop by, have a rum and punch. Be with people having a good time for a little while."

It's an important need, and one Nadine is too quick to ignore. She's trying, though, and making active attempts to take breaks from work and socialize. The karaoke part...she's still not sold on, but she'll have a drink or two and see how she's feeling.

There's no harm in that.

"I swear, I've spent more time in bars over the last year than I ever did in my entire life before."

And even now, she still doesn't like drinking much in the real world.

"No one in this room 's been in a bar as much as me," Jo says with a golden loftiness that could easily be knocked off as a grand exaggeration. But it's true, and she's damn proud of it, too. Proud of her childhood. Proud of why this place was built, and how many it helped along, and what it put into the world.

The parts outside of it were the ones that were complicated;
that complicated being back in this room that looked like time never touched it.

"Just not your kind of place, or?" The question leaves hanging with easy curiosity.

Luckily Nadine has a ready - and very true - excuse for her lack of drinking or spending much time in bars. Like so many things, she has the one answer she'll give. And then the others she keeps to herself, at least until she's much closer with someone. She likes Jo, but there's a lot she's just not ready to get into with the other woman.

"Back in New Hampshire, I was an elementary school teacher at a real hoity toity private school for rich kids. We had a conduct contract. And I'm really not a big drinker anyway. Mostly just social."

Like tonight. Besides, it's the Horizon. There's no after effects to deal with in the morning if she drinks in the Horizon. It's not like she gets drunk - unless she's with Julie. There's nothing she might say that she'd regret Julie hearing.

Yeah. Jo can totally picture that being something Nadine did.

She doesn't know Nadine better than any of the other people she's met here, but that unerringly fits with Nadine's whole schtick. It makes more 'realistic sense,' if that's even a thing here. Her as some fancy little kid school teacher. Quiet, charming, polite, and usually smiling. It fit a whole lot more of those check boxes than a mystic healer in a renfaire world.

"Well, lucky for you," Jo rolls right in against her words, smile unchecked by any of Nadine's words. "Drinking is not required tonight, or ever really." Most people who'd come here drank heavily and had a black tar tolerance against drinking, because they drank as regularly as you were supposed to be downing water, too; but they weren't then anymore, were they?

Jo's smile brightened a notch. "But the singing is non-negotiable."
It slid crooked toward a smirk. "Dean and I are hard set on that one."

"Damn straight you can, come on," returned lightly as he pushes off the tabletop surface he'd been leaning on. He jerks his head toward Ash's door. Starts heading that way, a move that in hindsight probably seems way more suggestive than it winds up being — like he's trying to take her to a damn supply closet for a quick trip to second base.

That's not what happens.

He opens Ash's door, but that's not the room that lives beyond. Instead, it's more like a concrete anti-chamber, a small empty space that leads to another door — this one heavier, iron and steel, god damn sturdy.

"We found this, back home. Figured it might be time to bring 'er to the Horizon, and since I've been hogging your place and all... You know. Fair's fair."

You can hog some of his in turn.

The hefty door quietly yawns open, and he gestures her through to the landing.

"Welcome to the bunker. Buckle up, we're going on a tour."

Jo slid off the bartop, smooth and steady as she used the stool to step down, as though some part of her had forgotten, too many years back, to know that bar stools were tricky things prone to unbalance and tipping. As though that concept didn't exist except for sleazy fratboys too busy laughing at themselves to watch what they were doing and girls drunk on candy-flavored cups looking to score the next boost to their non-existent self-esteem with another body next to them in bed.

There is a moment of confusion when he heads in the direction of the only door on this side of the bar, and she has to wonder if he even knows what should be behind that door. The words are strange enough, but she's walking even as she throws the questions over her shoulder. "You put a bomb shelter under the--" Her voice broke off as the door opened on two floors. "Woah."

Definitely not a bomb shelter. Definitely not Ash's room.
All meticulously disorganized computer parts and PBR cans.

Jo started walking down the stairs, gaze rapidly, shooting over so many unexpected things. Chessboard and chairs. The table with the glowing map stretched across it. The walls. Computers. Other tables with tools. Radios and large, space-taking, outdated equipment. There's so much, and open doorways suggest it doesn't stop there.

It's old, but it's nice. Pristine. Cared for.
It gives off the air of stocked, of serious. Professional.

"When did this happen?"

Inej probably saw him, if he seemed like he wanted to left alone she wouldn't have drawn attention to him, otherwise, she would have said hi :3

I might still tag this eventually, and I really might not at this point. RIP.

But you can assume you saw Inej here. She definitely had some drinks, played some knife chess, and was amused by the concept of karaoke (IF she participated, it's 100% because someone convinced her to do it, and she ONLY did it if it was a duet/group thing lolol).

[Altaïr was invited and has no intention of taking part in the main activity, but he's admittedly curious about what this 'karaoke' involves, so he does show up at some point. He doesn't make an entrance; he's just there, suddenly, sitting at a table a little off to the side, drawing no attention to himself.

He absolutely will not sing but Jo is welcome to attempt to persuade him.]

[ Eddie is prepared to guard the jukebox with his entire life. He jumps at the sound of Jo’s voice, and his hands immediately fly up to cover the machine’s buttons in a clear display of you can take this song from my cold, dead hands.

When she doesn’t chide him for replaying the song and makes no move to change it, he visibly relaxes, and grin spreads across his face. ]

Uh, it is now. Holy shit.

[ It’s hard to mask the glee on his face. He doesn’t dislike being here in Abraxas, but there are a handful of things he misses from home, and music is right at the top of the list. Metallica is particularly special, though, especially now. ]

I thought I knew all of it, but this is new to me. You have any more in here, or…?

[ He doesn’t let her get an answer in before he whirls around and begins flipping through songs again, continuing to babble as he searches. ]

Master of Puppets? Killer album. I mean, a religious experience, beginning to end. But uh, that was 1986 and this right here? Definitely not from their first three albums, so if there’s anything else, I definitely missed out and I'm sort of pissed about it.

"We'll see how it goes." Nadine knows Dean isn't going to actually make her do something she'd rather not. But she'll keep the possibility open, in the interests of the spirit of the evening.

"I do plan on a drink or two, though. I don't mind here, in the Horizon, it's not like I'll be hungover in the morning or have dulled reflexes if there's an emergency in the night." Which happens all too often. Far too many times she's been shaken or shouted awake in the dead of night to tend a grievous injury. Another reason she doesn't drink much in the waking world, and prefers to smoke her relaxation. It wears off much quicker, for her, as she doesn't use much.

"I went from one profession where drinking's a bad idea right into another one."

That surprise on her face? Not gonna lie, kind of satisfying.

He strolls down slowly after her — she's got eyes for the equipment, the decor, the room, but he's only got eyes for her reaction. Watching her take it all in is practically more entertaining than the karaoke'd been.

"Here? Couple days ago, maybe. Not long." He hasn't been hiding a secret bunker under her bar this whole entire time, don't worry. "Back home?"

He exhales through his lips, a soft and thoughtful raspberry.

"Long story. I'll tell you about it later. Lemme show you the highlights first."

He'll knock them out one by one, all the major locations. Kitchen, dungeon, library, gun range, massive garage complete with too many old cars nobody's ever gonna drive. Compared to all that awesome real estate, the final destination probably seems completely unremarkable.

It's just a bedroom. Neatly made bed, empty writing desk, cozy bedside lamp — which, upon closer inspection, has a photograph resting gently underneath it.

"I, uh. I know it's probably stupid. Imaginary bedroom in an imaginary bunker under an imaginary bar, you know, who the hell needs to sleep here, but uh..." He shrugs. Peels his eyes from her to flicker them around the room, like he's appraising it. Like he didn't god damn make it, like he doesn't already know exactly what it looks like. "It's yours, if you want it."

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ℝ𝕠𝕒𝕕𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕤𝕖 𝕂𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕠𝕜𝕖 ℕ𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 | 𝕆𝕡𝕖𝕟 𝕥𝕠 𝔸𝕝𝕝

ᴊᴏ ʜᴀʀᴠᴇʟʟᴇ | ꜱᴛʀᴇɴɢᴛʜ

ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ꜰᴏʟᴋꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ʙᴏʀɴ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴡᴀᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰʟᴀɢ

ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ꜰᴏʟᴋꜱ ɪɴʜᴇʀɪᴛ ꜱᴛᴀʀ-ꜱᴘᴀɴɢʟᴇᴅ ᴇʏᴇꜱ

ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ꜰᴏʟᴋꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ʙᴏʀɴ ꜱɪʟᴠᴇʀ ꜱᴘᴏᴏɴ ɪɴ ʜᴀɴᴅ

ᴅᴇᴀɴ ᴡɪɴᴄʜᴇsᴛᴇʀ | ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇʀs

HANDWAVE IT!

Kyle

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Eddie Munson | The Devil

All times are perfect times to tag!

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