(Independent Supernatural OC. Season 5. I rp with anyone, just ask! gifs and pictures belong to their respective owners unless otherwise noted. nsfw, sorry. FC: Katie McGrath)
That’d be awesome, thank you so much.
You sure I wouldn’t be a burden?
Trust me kid, I know burdens. You ridin’ along is definitely not one.
You got a name? I do need to know who I’m cartin’ around, though.
Yeah, actually. I think you might be able to. You mind telling me how to get to the cemetery? I’m not from around here; hell, I haven’t even lived in Oklahoma since I was a toddler.
I’m actually headin’ that way myself. I could give you a ride, if you’d like?
Can I help you?
Dean rose an eyebrow at Idida and chuckled along with her comment about not being Mother Teresa. “Man, you would put her to shame she’d blush so hard. You’re makin’ me laugh to the point where it’s really startin’ to kill.” He smiled a bit and tried to shrug but that plan also ran down the drain; it hurt just to move in general. But once Idida slipped that last packet of ice underneath of Dean, he let out a sigh of relief and rested more against the coolness of the ice.
“Hmm… Dilaudid tablets? Sounds like it’s worth a try to me.” Surprisingly, Dean didn’t even want to ask about side effects of this stuff. The number of pills and prescriptions that he took over the years from injuries and whatnot was an alarming number; he never questioned it whenever he took it, always thinking that it would make Dean better. Or so he thought. And he’s been lucky so far.
“I’m about the farthest a woman can get from Mother Teresa, honestly,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “She definitely wouldn’t approve of the way I help people, at least. I’m about half the woman she was, y’know? Probably less.” Idida gave him one last smile before it fell into a guilty frown. “Oh fuck, I’m sorry. We can joke around later, when you’re feelin’ better.” She was at least glad the ice seemed to be taking some of the edge off; he looked far more comfortable than he had a few minutes ago.
“They’ll dissolve on their own, so don’t worry about ‘em. Try to go back to sleep if you can. I think I’m gonna run out and buy some more bandages, ‘cause I’m pretty sure I’m out of ‘em.” She bent down to pull her boots on and tie the laces, and smiled up at him. “Seriously. Sleep.”
Dean let out a wheeze that was supposed to be a chuckle, “Well ain’t you just a sassy girl. Never knew that you’d have it in you to crack such a good joke like that. My mouth’s just as good, I’m sure.” He heard the whole conversation about the hospital and Dean’s insides just turned into ice; there was no way that he was going to the hospital. No. Freaking. WAY. But… Idida was right. Sure, she could stay with him for a couple more days but after that? Dean would be SOL. End of story.
He couldn’t help but let out a sigh at his predicament and let it slide… for now. Dean would think about it - if he wasn’t going to be well by the second day, he would… go to the hospital. Dean glanced at Idida speculatively and asked, “Gimme some painkillers then? Sounds like the only thing appealin’ to me right now.”
Idida smiled down at him, pleased at the fact that she had made him laugh. “Hey, you ain’t the only one who can throw innuendos around. Guess you were right when you said I wasn’t Mother Teressa.” The words felt odd in her mouth; that conversation seemed years old, rather than two days. She resumed dumping ice into the bags while Dean thought about her offer; she understood the aversion the hospitals and decided not to push the issue if he refused. He was a grown man after all…a slightly pitiful, currently crippled grown man, but a grown man nonetheless.
She nodded in acknowledgement of his request and tied a knot in the last of the bags. “Here you go, last one.” Idida got up again and went over to her bag, digging until she found what she was looking for. “Dilaudid tablets,” she said, dropping a couple into his hand. “Strongest shit I could get from my professor. Better than morphine, less side effects. Put ‘em under your tongue and don’t mess with ‘em.”
Mun: Really, you shouldn’t be doing that…
Muse:
30 Day Character Development Meme : Day 1 (Basics and Cosmetic)
always under the read more, because of reasons.
Because I wanted to see something that really got into the nitty gritty details of a character.
I tried to organize it into sections and equalize the amount of writing you’d be doing each day, but obviously that’s going to vary from character to character. Good luck, and may the force be with you.
Dean glared a bit, knowing that the question was quite ridiculous given his current status; with a groan, he muttered, “Whataya think?” He chuckled out but grimaced with his back feeling like it was on fire and he was just aching everywhere. Shutting his eyes, he sighed out, “So I heard that you got the ice.” Dean could hear a bit of commotion, the walls not that thick and Dean was able to hear what happened while Idida was fetching him some ice. “You’ve got quite the dirty mouth on you… Think you need some of that Orbit to clean it up.”
Yeah, nice joke for such a grim time like this, Dean thought. Moaning out weakly, he opened his eyes and shook his head from the pain. “Yeah, I could totally use that ice ‘bout now.”
Idida rolled her eyes at his attempt at a joke and held up her hand, showing him her bandanna-wrapped knuckles. “Damn thing…My mouth is perfectly fine, thanks. Got quite a few men who’d agree with me, too.” She sat down next to him gently with a smirk and a wink. The bags needed to be filled before the ice started to melt, so she got to work. “The question now, Dean, is hospital or no hospital. I can bandage you up, and I got a fair bit of painkillers in the car,” she sighed and placed a couple of the filled bags carefully on his abdomen, “but I don’t know if I can get you a hundred percent again. I’m willing to stay with you a few more days until you’re feelin’ better if you need me to, but y’know. Hospital’s your decision.”
She stopped filling bags for a moment to huff hot air onto her hands; the ice had started to numb them and they hurt, especially the hand with the split knuckles. “You need anything else? I’ll run and get anythin’.”
Ehm.. Sebastian.
Somethin’ y’ needed? My father’s not around if that’s what you’re here for.
Nah, Sebastian. I’m just passin’ through.
You doin’ okay today?
there are certain fictional works and characters where if you insult or criticize them in front of me i am mentally and emotionally incapable of taking it anything but personally
ididalynwood started following you
Who’re you?
Hey, I’m Idida. You goin’ to do me the decency of tellin’ me your name?
Bowie Knives
- Culture: English
- Dated: 2nd half of 19th century
- Dimensions: length 37cm each
Each with a double-edged blade inscribed with the manufacturers name “Yeoman & Son Sheffield”. One knife has etched railroad motif, the other one features an inscription “For Service to the American People 1852 - 1877 Wells Fargo Express Company.” Both knives have curved quillons and the grip is covered in German silver.
Source & Copyright: Live Auctioneers
