Hᴇ ᴡᴀs ᴀʟᴡᴀʏs ᴀ ᴛʜᴏᴜsᴀɴᴅ ᴍɪʟᴇs ᴀᴡᴀʏ ( ᴄʟᴏsᴇᴅ )

[righteously]

Who: Dean Winchester & Co.
When: January
Where: Cadens; Horizon; Nocwich
What: Catch-all for January
Warnings: mark of cain shenanigans, violence, alcohol, self-loathing

I ᴡᴏᴋᴇ ᴜᴘ ᴛʜɪs ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢ
ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴄᴏɢɴɪᴢᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀɴ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍɪʀʀᴏʀ

Comments

[righteously]

Half a beat after Ciri says it, Dean echoes, "I got it."

Only the prerequisite amount of sass, a little token salt sprinkled in because of who he is as a person. The truth is, it is getting easier. The longer he stands here, the more his adrenaline spikes, the less heavy it seems to feel. He's pointedly electing to stay ignorant to that. Not examining the why too closely, because inevitably it'll circle back to the one thing he's trying not to think about for ten freaking minutes a day, if he can help it.

He focuses on the mass at hand. Waits until Ciri does her splash to hoist a little more, make more room for canvas which Jo obligingly provides, and for a minute there it really does seem to be going smoothly.

"See? What'd I tell you- ah!" There's a pop, a jolt, a visible spark as the jelly discharges an electric shock. It lands not on his protected hands, but on the exposed forearm right above it. He yelps, and drops the flubber back down onto the ground so he can hiss and inspect the teeny patch of singed arm hair like an angry toddler.

[tobeclosetohim]

Jo snorts, eyes bright, shooting toward the other blonde at Ciri's monotone answer for Dean's predictable answer and Dean's layer of the same words exactly, only half a beat behind her start. One voice utterly deadpans, mocking, and the other a straining yet put upon like there's no way Dean would ever admit a little help aside from what they're already doing would have a point.

As though even this weird-crazy universe is with them against him, Dean starts to goad that he's right, and then suddenly, there's a grunt and sizzling-crackling sound, and Jo starts to laugh at his idiocy. But it is a truth universally acknowledged that a squid in the possession of gravity and falling from a great height must be in want of somewhere to land, and that somewhere happens to be Jo's arm before it finds that ground again.

Causing another chain of sizzling, Jo hissing while jerking back and seething an instinctive glare toward Dean. It's shocked-annoyance morphed toward his idiocy as though it was on purpose. "Seriously?"

It's not far off from a familiar enough jolt before jerking a hand back from replacing one of the lights in the bar sign several times in her late teens and early twenties. Still, god forbid she does not milk it for an egregious act of spite from the insulted who just proved how wrong they were and acted out like a child.

[wiedzminka]

Ciri controls her laughter better, mostly in that it's not entirely out loud, reserved for a snort through her nose and an amused glint in her eyes. Dean pouts, and she smirks.

And helpfully splashes a little water on the tentacle that's flopped back to the ground.

"At least it landed on the skin."

She crouches down, tugging the deerskin a little further beneath the huge tentacle.

[righteously]

And then, like the absolute child that he is, he sees Ciri going for the deerskin beneath the tentacle.

So he gives it a quick little nudge with his foot. It makes contact with the side of Ciri's arm, and bequeaths unto her a sharp little zap.

Should she look up at him, he'll be looking innocently up at the sky, innocently minding his own business, innocently.

Did I mention he's innocent?

[tobeclosetohim]

"Idiot."

Jo sing-songs, leaning a little away from the path of destruction.