we're amongst the stars

Name:  Alee

URL/URLS: Hoo boy. Pull up a chair; this might take a while. a-little-fly (OC RP), askthearchive (Ivy, The Dresden Files RP), codename-mnemonic (OC RP), decline-into-disorder (a school thing from ages ago; mostly rambling about art), hotstuffxhannah (Hannah Ascher, The Dresden FIles RP), human-voodoodoll (Queenie, American Horror Story RP), infamatietobliterati (Magnus, SPN RP), thatgirlwiththeredcamera (personal blog), tickets--please (the Ticket Keeper, The Devil's Carnival RP), workingmywayacross (this one! Gavin MacLeod, Supernatural RP). Why yes, I do have a bit of a problem with making a bunch of blogs. About half of these are inactive at any given time.

Blog title: we're amongst the stars

Favourite colour:  purple

Significant other: haaaaaaaaa nonexistant

Write something in CAPS:  SOMETHING

Favourite band:  Oh jeez I can't pick just one. Um. Let's go with the Artist I Don't Think Anyone's Heard of but Everyone Needs To Because They're Gr8 edition--Martin Storrow.

Favourite number:  ...people have favorite numbers? this is a thing? I must have missed the memo.

Favourite beverage:  Dr. Pepper, I guess. Also, before the weather got too hot for tea to be a terrible idea, this stuff.

That was what she got for wearing a red dress while wandering around green grass, she supposed. A high-pitched growl rumbled in her throat as she stared back up at him, trying to decide whether she could outrun him or not.

"Faeries a-aren’t real," she snapped out finally, because as far as she knew, they weren’t. "I-I’m a Grassfolk. You’d—You’d better keep your distance!"

But, despite all of that, she had to ask…

“Look at me,

I’m on the way to the promised land! I’m on the highway tohell!”

Fuck all, but it was a good goddamn day to be alive! If there more days like this ahead of her—empty road, going eighty-five and debating going higher, AC/DC pumped up as loud as it could go and all the windows rolled down for a more natural fix to air conditioning—maybe this hunting bullshit wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe she could make a real life out of this, take it for what it was (a third fucking chance at a life, who the hell actually got so far along in it?), and do something…great.

Sure, she was still a thief. Driving a car that technically wasn’t hers, although she doubted Mo would mind. Still picked pockets, although now sometimes she moonlighted at bars and maybe some day she might pick up an actually marketable skill (what with all the pointing and shooting and hacking to bits, she bound to learn something), but all in all? Shit wasn’t so bad now. She had her feet under her, and a trunk full of goodies like salt and silver bullets, an iPod blasting all her good time favorites…yeah. Life was pretty fucking sweet.

“Highway to hell, I’m on the highway to hell!” And maybe she was…but damn, was it going to be a fun ride down!

At least until she hit someone. With an unholy cry that sounded like any number of curses slammed together into one ugly word, a foot crashing hastily into her break and a half-prayer for safety before she remembered what dicks the angels reputedly were, Kenz fought the car and tried not to hit the hipster asshat walking in the road.

Fuckshitdamnhellfuckfuckfuck! Assholes or otherwise, someone up there must’ve been watching; she missed the guy by a mile, felt, and sat for a panicked moment panting behind her steering wheel and trying to get her heart to stop stuttering out it’s thanks—or was it an apology?

Highway to hell! Don’t stop me!

Something new shattered that peace. A rushing, rumbling, roaring Gavin didn't recognize but did realize was coming up behind him. He spun to look, and found something strange and huge bearing down on him, closer, closer, closerclosercloser--

Gavin dove aside, hitting the ground and rolling; for a moment or two the world was a confusing spin of road-sky-road-grass, and somewhere he heard the roar become a screech become nothing at all, and in the silence he heard a woman shouting.

Swearing, saying things the likes of which Gavin rarely heard away from the docks, and had never heard out of a lady's mouth.

He righted himself, coming shakily to his feet, and looked around in hopes of understanding what had happened. The thing that had nearly run him down had come to a halt, and he could see now that it resembled some sort of odd carriage. It was built of something that caught the sunlight and shone, and there were no horses to be found, nothing at all to let any pull the thing, but the wheels and the shape suggested that's what it was. 

There were windows, too, and woman that the voice belonged to leaned out of one. She too was unlike anything Gavin had ever seen--night-black hair, the bluest eyes he'd seen, and the oddest clothes--along with the way she was shouting at him, quite a bit to take in.

[[Doing a little dashboard-cleaning this morning, so I think it’s a good time for me to reiterate that if I

unfollow you

do not immediately follow you back when you follow me

do not follow you back at all

it does not (necessarily) mean I don’t like you/don’t want to interact with you.

I have several side blogs attached to this account, so my dash is already crowded and can be difficult to navigate. In addition, while there are few things that outright trigger me there are still some that upset me to various degrees and I’d rather not see on a regular basis. So if you’re going to do things like

turn your blog/my dash into Blockquote Hell

constantly post disturbing imagery (graphic gore/bodily mutilation and rape are two big NOPEs for me)

write threads or drabbles that are explicit noncon/rape scenes without using read-mores or warning for content in any way

I might politely suggest you do the read-mores/warnings/tags and I might point out that even if you’re mobile it’s not especially hard to cut your posts, but I’m not going to get mad or tell you what to do—after all, it’s your blog, and you should be able to do with it what you want. I’m just not going to follow you (or unfollow you if this was something you didn’t do previously but start to). Generally speaking, I’ll still be happy to talk to and RP with you.If I don’t follow/unfollow because I take issue with your behavior toward me or others (as opposed to the content of your blog) I’ll probably approach you privately to express my concerns. But that’s very rarely been a problem, so don’t worry about it.

And if none of these things apply to you and I still haven’t followed you, it might have just slipped my mind and I’ll get around to it eventually. This is especially true if we’ve never interacted—since tumblr likes to hide new-follower notifications from me all the time, I may not have even noticed you’re around. In which case: sorry!

He almost hadn't let him in. The pounding on the door and the slurred shout of his name had all but made Gavin's heart stop, fear rushing in to chill him to the bone. It had been years--more than years, counting the ones he'd skipped over--since the last time he'd heard his father come home roaring drunk, had to endure what happened after, but though the marks from beating after beating had faded the memory of them remained clear as day. 

And he had to breathe deep for a moment and remind himself that this was not Fergus MacLeod anymore, not quite, this was Crowley, demon, King of Hell, who instead of hurting Gavin at all had saved his life twice in the course of one day. That he would be safe.

Most likely.

He found his father--strange, still, to call this unfamiliar man who looked nothing like the man Gavin knew and spoke with an Englishman's accent father, even if something of the man he'd been remained in a way Gavin couldn't exactly describe--a bit of a mess, in no state to take a swing at anyone. And when Gavin pulled hum inside and deposited him in a chair, he couldn't help but be thankful for that fact.

  Gailo sighed softly as he washed the dirty and blood ridden clothes in the lone riverside by the road, dunking them quietly and ignoring the deers nearby that curiously watched him on the other side as he washed. He was fine here, rarely did anyone bother to come down these old streets anymore. Being a hunter wasn’t all bad he guessed, at least he’s saving people along his journey.

 The young hunter was only in a pair of slightly too big boxers, casually whistling an old song he remembered his Grandfather hum to him before suddenly the strange crystal around his necklace began to glow a gentle pulsating light that would have gone unnoticed by the normal eyes. It was a warning to him of something or someone coming his way. Gail blinked and looked up, glancing as the dears who were on the opposite side of the riverbed darted back into the treeline.

  The young brunette stood fully, turning to find the disturbance. A man? On these backwoods road? Now that was new. Gail dried his hands as he watched the stranger come closer. Perhaps he’d go unnoticed. Then again he found himself curiously bewildered by this man. Especially his odd clothing. “You look lost there my friend.” Gail said with a soft chuckle, leaning on his knees some as he took a break from his chores.

All he knew was that it had frightened him, and he wouldn't like for it to come back--perhaps wandering this road wasn't the best idea after all. Back into the wood he went, and he wandered until he came upon a path to follow. Quieter. Safer. It wended its way through trees and clearings, and took him eventually to the banks of a small river, where he found he was not alone. 

A man stood nearby and near-naked, stooped with his hands in the water, and Gavin thought he could see flashes of fabric in his hands. Odd place to do one's washing, but it was hardly the oddest thing he'd seen in the past day. 

The other man looked up and called out to Gavin, smiling. Gavin should have been wary; after all, Abaddon--the woman who'd brought him to this strange future--had approached him smiling, and she had been anything but friendly. Perhaps this man was the same way... but for the moment, he was happy enough to see a person after walking so long alone, and did not think twice about answering back.

And so, without thinking, she called out. “Don’t!” 

Immediately she slapped her hands over her mouth, cringing. Inwardly she cursed at herself. If there was anything more dangerous than the road, it was a giant.

Someone off in the trees, perhaps? That thought in mind, he started off that way, to have a look. "Hello?" he called as he walked, peering about.

Movement caught his eye, low in the grass. And when Gavin bent to see just what it had been, his eyes widened in shock. A tiny person, a girl, crouched down among the green blades. "What are you, then?"

Before an answer could come, memories of stories he'd been told years (centuries?) ago surfaced to supply one. He knew, now, that demons were real, so then why not...

"Goodbye Gavin… Oh and don’t go mentioning that whole Prince of Hell thing. Doesn’t play too well in most circles."