Dean Winchester (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
mulletrock) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sirenspull_logs2012-04-27 07:24 pm
mulletrock) wrote in sirenspull_logs2012-04-27 07:24 pm
Entry tags:
closed }{ conning people, drinking things, the family business.
Who: John Winchester and Dean Winchester
What: A family outing for Dad's birthday
When: Backdated to the afternoon of
Where: An inconspicuous billiard bar in Siren's Port, one Dean found himself
Warnings: Testosterone. Probably cursing. I'll update if necessary.
[Dean sent his Dad the text an hour ago, coordinates like he used to get sent all the time before he and Sam got pulled into the apocalypse and their life was as simple as Yellow Eyes and gigs in different zip codes.
After a fifteen minute wait, patience never being one of his strong points, he can be found hustling a game of pool on of the corner tables his beer twisted between two fingers as he sizes up his opponents playing style.
He knows that his Dad'll be around. He knew better than to make a big deal of his birthday but he had an iron flask he bought cheap at a pawn shop in town for him to keep holy water, salt, or whatever struck him at the time in and lunch and the rounds were on him. That's as far as he was willing to go. They didn't really celebrate holidays in their family. Life was short, they probably should, but the last time Dean can remember doing anything like that was he and Sam's pagan Christmas during his last year.
He tries not to think about it as he sinks two solids in rivaling pockets with an overconfident grin.]
What: A family outing for Dad's birthday
When: Backdated to the afternoon of
Where: An inconspicuous billiard bar in Siren's Port, one Dean found himself
Warnings: Testosterone. Probably cursing. I'll update if necessary.
[Dean sent his Dad the text an hour ago, coordinates like he used to get sent all the time before he and Sam got pulled into the apocalypse and their life was as simple as Yellow Eyes and gigs in different zip codes.
After a fifteen minute wait, patience never being one of his strong points, he can be found hustling a game of pool on of the corner tables his beer twisted between two fingers as he sizes up his opponents playing style.
He knows that his Dad'll be around. He knew better than to make a big deal of his birthday but he had an iron flask he bought cheap at a pawn shop in town for him to keep holy water, salt, or whatever struck him at the time in and lunch and the rounds were on him. That's as far as he was willing to go. They didn't really celebrate holidays in their family. Life was short, they probably should, but the last time Dean can remember doing anything like that was he and Sam's pagan Christmas during his last year.
He tries not to think about it as he sinks two solids in rivaling pockets with an overconfident grin.]