Multi-para only? Discussion required prior to intiation of role play? Put some notations here.
Statistical
NAME: Input info
NICKNAMES: Input info
ALIASES: Input info
DATE OF BIRTH: Input info
PLACE OF BIRTH: Input info
CURRENT RESIDENCE: Input info
ETHNICITY: Input info
HAIR COLOR: Input info
EYE COLOR: Input info
HEIGHT: Input info
WEIGHT: Input info
BIRTHMARKS: Input info
SCARS: Input info
SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Input info
RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Input info
CURRENT RELATIONSHIP(S): Input info
PAST RELATIONSHIP(S): Input info
EDUCATION Input Info
OCCUPATION: Input info
JOB DESCRIPTION: Input info
EMPLOYER: Input info
STRENGTHS: Input info
WEAKNESSES: Input info
One day they will pay
And I will rise from ruin
A beast of iron & plague
Personality
Traits: Input Info
Disorders: Input Info
Addictions: Input Info
Likes: Input Info
Dislikes: Input Info
Quirks: Input Info
In the end, how will I be judged?
A skull to hold the worms?
A body to cradle dust?
Family
MOTHER: Input info
FATHER: Input info
SISTER(S): Input info
BROTHER(S): Input info
Other Family: Input info
Wrinkled people with shriveled lives
I'll forfeit this shadow
Game of compromise
About me: -----------------------------ABOUT ME---------------------------------
.vicarious{Second Hide Blurbs Code}
Who I'd like to meet: -----------------------------LIKE TO MEET---------------------------------
And I'll say it's too late
You've summoned the devil within me
You should be running...
Origins/History
Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipisicing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborum.
Sed ut perspiciatis unde omnis iste natus error sit voluptatem accusantium doloremque laudantium, totam rem aperiam, eaque ipsa quae ab illo inventore veritatis et quasi architecto beatae vitae dicta sunt explicabo. Nemo enim ipsam voluptatem quia voluptas sit aspernatur aut odit aut fugit, sed quia consequuntur magni dolores eos qui ratione voluptatem sequi nesciunt. Neque porro quisquam est, qui dolorem ipsum quia dolor sit amet, consectetur, adipisci velit, sed quia non numquam eius modi tempora incidunt ut labore et dolore magnam aliquam quaerat voluptatem. Ut enim ad minima veniam, quis nostrum exercitationem ullam corporis suscipit laboriosam, nisi ut aliquid ex ea commodi consequatur? Quis autem vel eum iure reprehenderit qui in ea voluptate velit esse quam nihil molestiae consequatur, vel illum qui dolorem eum fugiat quo voluptas nulla pariatur?
There are nights, so vacant and hushed
I can feel the texture of my tattered soul
Black tar, dripping, sticky and thick
Present Day
Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipisicing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborum.
Sed ut perspiciatis unde omnis iste natus error sit voluptatem accusantium doloremque laudantium, totam rem aperiam, eaque ipsa quae ab illo inventore veritatis et quasi architecto beatae vitae dicta sunt explicabo. Nemo enim ipsam voluptatem quia voluptas sit aspernatur aut odit aut fugit, sed quia consequuntur magni dolores eos qui ratione voluptatem sequi nesciunt. Neque porro quisquam est, qui dolorem ipsum quia dolor sit amet, consectetur, adipisci velit, sed quia non numquam eius modi tempora incidunt ut labore et dolore magnam aliquam quaerat voluptatem. Ut enim ad minima veniam, quis nostrum exercitationem ullam corporis suscipit laboriosam, nisi ut aliquid ex ea commodi consequatur? Quis autem vel eum iure reprehenderit qui in ea voluptate velit esse quam nihil molestiae consequatur, vel illum qui dolorem eum fugiat quo voluptas nulla pariatur?
A soft, slow secretion of indifference
slopping through the hollow suit I use as a body
They say these are the words
of a damaged mind
Alexa Medlocke
Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipisicing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborum.
Sed ut perspiciatis unde omnis iste natus error sit voluptatem accusantium doloremque laudantium, totam rem aperiam, eaque ipsa quae ab illo inventore veritatis et quasi architecto beatae vitae dicta sunt explicabo. Nemo enim ipsam voluptatem quia voluptas sit aspernatur aut odit aut fugit, sed quia consequuntur magni dolores eos qui ratione voluptatem sequi nesciunt. Neque porro quisquam est, qui dolorem ipsum quia dolor sit amet, consectetur, adipisci velit, sed quia non numquam eius modi tempora incidunt ut labore et dolore magnam aliquam quaerat voluptatem. Ut enim ad minima veniam, quis nostrum exercitationem ullam corporis suscipit laboriosam, nisi ut aliquid ex ea commodi consequatur? Quis autem vel eum iure reprehenderit qui in ea voluptate velit esse quam nihil molestiae consequatur, vel illum qui dolorem eum fugiat quo voluptas nulla pariatur?
I wish I could have you here
In my clutches
To remove the excuses from your mind
To part that haze and slice your soul
to pieces
Dean Winchester
Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipisicing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborum.
Sed ut perspiciatis unde omnis iste natus error sit voluptatem accusantium doloremque laudantium, totam rem aperiam, eaque ipsa quae ab illo inventore veritatis et quasi architecto beatae vitae dicta sunt explicabo. Nemo enim ipsam voluptatem quia voluptas sit aspernatur aut odit aut fugit, sed quia consequuntur magni dolores eos qui ratione voluptatem sequi nesciunt. Neque porro quisquam est, qui dolorem ipsum quia dolor sit amet, consectetur, adipisci velit, sed quia non numquam eius modi tempora incidunt ut labore et dolore magnam aliquam quaerat voluptatem. Ut enim ad minima veniam, quis nostrum exercitationem ullam corporis suscipit laboriosam, nisi ut aliquid ex ea commodi consequatur? Quis autem vel eum iure reprehenderit qui in ea voluptate velit esse quam nihil molestiae consequatur, vel illum qui dolorem eum fugiat quo voluptas nulla pariatur?
To sing a lullaby as I tied you to the slab
To shave your head with a dulling razor
As you watch In the splattered mirror above you
There should have been some form of inkling that all was not right with their picturesque scene. The old demon tethered blood mage wasn't so easily susceptible to hallucinations and other variations of mind trickery, especially considering that it was her speciality. Yet, with all the changes that her life had taken in recent days, whatever she was now, whatever gifts she may have possessed, she was unprepared and unguarded against what held them in such an illusion. Possibly, a part of that reasoning was due to her never having to protect herself against such things, or, the fact that the setting wasn't something the stuff of nightmares would bring up. Quite the contrary, in fact. Shaenna had never experience and happiness on such an existential level, hers had always been more of a whimsical and superficial level filled with moments of good music, the faces of strangers, bouts of silliness, and vast quantities of ice cream. The little mage would have been equally unprepared if this was reality. But, what if it was a dream? An accumulation of mental sparks hitting memories and imagination? Where such a place was boundless and lawless? Where there was no harm in what a person got up to in their own machinations of their mind? Whatever affliction she had succumbed to, she was oblivious and non resistant to the shift of reality and oddities that were encompassing her sweet innocence and naivety.
It was as if the spot light was solely upon them, keeping them in focus while the rest of the world seemed faded and distorted, as if viewing them from the very edges of her peripheral; even when looking directly at the unknown faces. It should have been enough to send a cascade of alarm bells ringing, but the female was too swept up in the moment to neither notice or care. Everything seemed so surreal and yet perfect, who in their right mind would want to ruin that?!
Her petite frame fitted flawlessly within his embrace, arms enveloping her into a world of safety and security. To her, he was like a super suit – Iron man, and, while she remained within his strong protection, no harm would come to her.
Together, they glided around the dance floor, movements perfectly in synchronicity as though they had done it a thousand times before. Their steps worked in perfect harmony as the slow music flowed around them to engulf the pair like an extra lover willing them together.
Time held no meaning for the girl lost within the cradle of his embrace. A soft sigh of contentment escaping her at the realisation that she could stay in this moment forever, like a photograph that kept the moment, the memory pristine. Surely nothing could surpass such a moment of unbridled bliss.
Then he kissed her.
Her small stature raised up on tip toes like a ballerina, eager to met his lips as his head craned to gain the angle of vastly different statures. The moment that their lips met, it was like gravity had no place or purpose. Surely they were soaring, flying towards heaven's illustrious gates themselves. Fingers toyed with the back of the shirt, rising to rest between shoulder blades to hold him closer despite them already being pressed against one another. The kiss was deep, passionate, and filled with a hunger that couldn't be sated on the dance floor.
High heels resonated each step taken across the highly polished walnut grain of a floor designed for the purpose to be danced upon. Ivory silk clung to the natural flow of slender design that pressed against the bodice in low cut perfection, only to cascade off the hips like a waterfall that offered a split running up almost the entire length that, was like a curtain unveiling every time she stepped to expose the sleek shape of porcelain legs. Bare arms, delicate fingers, the elegance of her collar bone and sleek neck that begged to be decorated in jewels. Albino tresses woven, held up by a single clip that offered a few rebellious bangs to slip free, only to fall along the curvature of cheeks and the suppleness of a jawline, only for the tips of wayward strands to point towards sensual plush lips that seemed to glimmer under the movements of artificial lighting.
She came to a stop beside Sam. Her opaque vision rising to his impressive height that encouraged the warmth of a smile to emerge upon her features as the look of contentment washed over her as though she had just witnessed the perfect sunrise. Her hand relinquished the ivory and gold inlaid clutch purse that was left to relax upon the bar while slender digits came to rest a top his own strong and sturdy hand.
“Black Russian, two black cherries,” Soft sultry words permeated the air from her while the attention shifted, albeit, fleetingly, towards the bar tender before that focus returned to the male by her side again.
The music faded then changed to Frank Sinartra, and the smile grew upon soft features. She turned from Sam, eyes drifting to the open space of dance floor that was perfect for the slow song playing – from a live band. She nuzzled her back against the male like he was her pillow and she was looking for that sweet spot. Finger nails trailed along the contours of his own hand, sliding between his manly digits as if offering a sensual massage.
As the drinks were slid onto the mahogany bar, her opposing hand reached across to snake around her own torso and slip into his resting hand to pull his strong limbs around her to engulf her slender design, her height a perfect match for his own that allowed her to press her back against his body, her head resting against his neck, slotting flawlessly beneath his chin.
Poised in the position where he could twirl her away from him, her lips parted once more to practically purr. “Aren't you going to ask your wife to dance, Mr Winchester?”
Truly kind words from someone who has been a helluva writing partner himself over the last few years. Honestly, it brought a smile to my face. As I write this I'm piecing together my response to the Skinned Tom story. I've got a lot of catching up to do but finally just read up on everything that's been added since I last replied. Hopefully it'll be up in the next few days unless adrenaline and inspiration strikes this evening.
And yes, Gord passed and he took a chunk of my heart and soul with him. Talk about a storyteller...
The shopping excursion had begun rocky, but ended with the mage knowing exactly what she wanted and what suited her. There was no one on this planet that knew her as well as she did, even the well meaning sales assistant couldn't predict what the pale female would lean towards – although goth would have been a given, as, in this day and age, most who had pale skin and platinum hair were goths. In the nineties, they would have followed idols like Marilyn Manson, and while Shae did have a lot of similar tastes to a goth, that wasn't all she was. Granted, she wasn't about to opt for pastels and flowering garbs with ribbons flowing randomly, though she did have a secret obsession over ball gowns which were much like wedding dresses, and it wasn't that she was desperate to tie the knot, no, she loved the femininity in such a dress, the way it fitted and flowed, the look of a princess awaiting to be rescued by her knight in shining armour. So, her shop had her outfitted with a couple of jeans, tight tops, dresses, skirts, night wear, and under wear, none of it her conventional ebony lace, or black leathers – mainly because the shop didn't sell something so rambunctious, but, it was time to develop a new side to Shaenna Eshe Levian.
With the shop done, so began the drive around tour of Lebanon. Shaenna had never simply cruised around a town before. Aside lacking wheels and driving knowledge, she had never visited a place just cause. Her visits would be to stop off and get whatever she needed to kill whatever it was she planned on killing, which, more often than not, seemed to end up with her being in a fish and tackle shop, then she'd be off doing her magnificent witchy stuff before returning with the intent to get herself some new garbs after hers had been ruined in slime or torn or something equally disastrous to cloth, then it was hitching a ride or using public transport to get her to her next destination. There was never time or compulsion to stop for a spell, take in the tourism aspect to an area, learn its culture or its people. Shaenna was as much a ghost as Spooky had been.
The high school, specifically, interested her, more so because little Sam had gone there. What kind of kid was he? Was he the cool funny kid? Or the dork?She imagined he was intellectual, even back then, probably a little socially awkward, but could make friends with anyone who gave him a chance. She had no clue, no idea, what school was actually like. She had seen them in movies where the cool kids picked on the normal kids, or the smart ones, or the outcasts, but, she didn't actually know if it was true, no more than she knew what category she would have fallen into. Being awoken in the body of a twenty something, it instantly negated the need to go to school, or experience such places of education. Spooky taught her what she needed to know, though, that was probably giving the demon too much credit as, let's be fair, imagining a demon sitting there teaching the young minded female to read Mr Men books just wasn't realistic. He would capture relevant teachers, have them educate the girl to their highest capabilities then kill them. That was the world Shae grew up in, taught by the demon that human's were nothing more than a resource, slaves, lessor beings that were to be used and discarded. She had been so out of touch of humanity for so long, it was a wonder if she'd ever fit in to normalcy. Would Sam realise this and cut her loose? When, even paying for something on a stolen credit card was a first for her, to not simply take something and use her magic to get what she wanted. Not that buying stuff on stolen plastic was exactly normal, it was far more expected than her magically making someone feel like they wanted to give it all to her for free.
The tour ended at a modest cinema complex where they were showing vintage movies such as The Shining. Now Shae had spent a lot of time in movie theatres. It was a surprising hot spot for a lot of supernatural activity apparently. She had never caught anything in the movies, though she had trailed a couple after the movie had finished, mostly, it seemed like a place to dump her while Spooks went off to do whatever he did when he needed time alone. He was more like a parent than people would realise.
“Of course!” She enthused. “Though Christine is my favourite!” A possessed car, well that was something she could relate to. That was the probably with a lot of things that happened around her, and that was her inability to relate. She loved music, and would sing her heart out to any decent song that had a rhythm she could dance to, but, seldom did she get the meaning of the words, what she was actually singing at the top of her lungs. It would be like watching a three year old singing a song, yet, Shae would like to think she had more skills and game than a child. “Yeah! Let's watch it!”
Shopping. Movies. Was this a date? Again, she only had movies to go off, but, it seemed a popular date was to take a girl to the flicks, stretch, put their arm around her, and, make their moves ready to set up for the night of expectations that followed. Again, she wasn't sure if that was how it actually worked, the mage hadn't ever been kissed, let alone dated. The first time she held hands was with Sam. Although she did really, really like him, she didn't think he would be interested in someone like her. Aside from her awesomeness, there wasn't much she could offer. What if Sam was looking to make a family? Raise kids into respectable adults, and grow old with the one he loved. Shaenna couldn't offer that to him or any other human. She couldn't have kids, not by humans, though, undoubtedly, an arch angel could put a bun in the oven if that was part of their grand plan, and she couldn't grow old. She would by like the Highlander watching his wee bairn age and perish while he remained the same. Of course catching a flick to kill time was a far cry from naming your offspring and planning the décor of your four bedroom house with twin garage and swimming pool and the mage didn't hold such an imagination of such things. She knew movies were associated with dates, because a lot of movies had teens in those movies watching movies of teens watching movies – it was like a paradox of kids watching kids do the exact same thing. Bit like that scene from Space Balls.
Aside from anything else, Jack Nicholson was a really funny actor. He was zany and off beat, fitting roles so perfectly and making them his own. She liked watching his movies and the craziness he offered to them. It sounded like a perfect way to kill some time and enjoy something normal for a change, as, that was what they were striving for, right? For her to be normal? Sam might think that beating a Wendigo was easier than the task he had with the quirky mage, but, if he was willing to spend time with her then she was definitely wanting to spend time with him too.
In many ways Shaenna was just like any other girl, she wanted to look pretty, liked clothes that suited her persona, matched how she viewed life, maybe that wasn't like other girls, but she knew what things suited her and what didn't. She didn't tend to do the whole girly shopping thing, and stuck to small shops, grabbing things that suited her needs based on wherever it was Spooky had them travelling. Some places just weren't environmentally friendly to short skirts and sleeveless tops, no more than a thick coat on the beach would work. So, she bought based on location first and what they would be doing in said location second, though, the latter was seldom thought out fully, which would often have her trying to clamber up things in ludicrously short skirts and flashing the enemy to death before she could even get a spell off. Shaenna didn't think of such things as modesty. That was probably due to having her demonic sidekick not giving her a moments privacy, so she had no qualms about baring all in front of others, or flashing her underwear as she scrambled about. She didn't do it in a manner that struck the urge for attention, she simple did it with no thought whatsoever. It was many of her innocent charms that had her not thinking about the world in the same spectrum as others. So, in many ways Shaenna was nothing like any other girl. Whether the Winchester's knew what they were letting themselves in for with her and her many things that she needed to learn and understand.
With a decent selection accumulated that would serve her needs for however long she could maintain them before getting them destroyed in combat, or attempting to cook, the mage followed Sam to the checkout to do the mundane bit of paying for her intended purchases. The garbs were folded into bags and Sam claimed dominance over holding the bags, which was fine for her – it was yet another thing she didn't consider in life, she wasn't a woman's activist but didn't assume guys to do everything for her either. She did her own thing, and, either way, those bags would have been carried to the car. She did hope that Sam would like some of the outfits she had picked out, as, whilst she was predominantly choosing stuff that she thought looked cute, or suited her new life, she was also considering what type of garments Sam might like on her.
With the shopping done in a surprisingly efficient amount of time, the pair were off to find Dean's manly what not, that came in the shape of some mechanical doo-dad which meant absolutely nothing to the little mage. Still, she followed Sam into the greasy abyss of man's world which was filled with grime and over used tools and clothes that were ill fitting around the waistline.
She smiled brightly at the peculiar male, though the conversation between the two went pretty much over her head since she didn't get, well, anything that was going on in that building. Still, she offered a happy little wave as she followed the younger Winchester back out of the building and took a moment to breathe the fresh air.
“Well, if we're not in a hurry, maybe we can have a look about for a bit,” She responded since the day was still young and it seemed a waste to spend it locked away in the bunker. It may have been the same old to Sam who had, presumably, spent a lot of time in Lebanon, but the little mage couldn't recall being in this place before, though, in fairness, one place looked much like another when a life was spent travelling about. Still, it was nice being outside and spending time with Sam, experiencing life not constantly having to fight and kill supernatural nasties, unless, of course, there was a secret nest of said nasties that they were about to stumble into. The unknown could be very exciting and annoying at the same time.
It was probably a good thing he didn't go into depth with what he meant about womanly what nots, she wouldn't believe how much was apparently involved in being a female. She had no idea about that sort of thing, she always just grabbed what she needed whenever she was in a new place, and that was simply the basics of clothing and underwear. She never bothered with bras, they looked like a torture device. Instead, she simply offered a bit of a dumb nod like there was some trade secret to being a woman that she didn't know, but then, she couldn't imagine Spooky taking her shopping for such secret womanly things. He hadn't educated her on that side of things. She shifted her attention to Dean who wanted them to pick up some doo-dad for the old bike he had in pieces. She, somehow, managed to catch the thingy ma jigger that was thrown her way, but she had no idea what it was or how it was broken, or what a non broken one looked like. This would be more difficult that she had imagined. Since when did shopping become so difficult? She just went in a place that had pretty little dresses and walked out wearing it, complete with fresh underwear. She replaced her boots the same way when she needed to, but they tended to last quite a while since she was opposed to hiking needlessly.
They left Dean to it and Shaenna handed the watcha call it to Sam since he was a guy and probably knew what it was better than she did. She walked with him through the bunker and exited out into the brilliance of the sun light which offered hope to a promising day ahead, though, Shae knew the weather rarely factored into it, unless it was the type of nasties that favoured certain weather types, of course.
It seemed so normal cruising down the road, windows wound down and music playing. Her paled gaze shifted around, taking the sights like it was the first time she had actually thought to look, which wasn't entirely wrong. Shaenna would usually be chatting away, or distracted in some way or another, never taking a moment to see yet another town or city that probably looked just like any other. Whether this sudden interest was due to the chronic changes in her life, or the fact that she had been dead for a brief while, she didn't know. Maybe it was Sam's influence, making it more involved that she ever realised, causing her to pay more attention, get in touch with her feminine side.
Getting out of the car, she simply took to following Sam's lead again, weaving through the rows and circular rails of clothing until they got to the girl section where the colours were more cheerful and light. She was pretty sure this was where the Power Rangers did their shopping. She had never seen pink or yellow jeans before.
There was a lot of options and, for the first time, Shaenna wasn't just shopping for the immediate, and, she wasn't tricking the sales assistant into letting her walk out with the clothes. That was one of the reasons she picked the more smaller shops that catered for specific types of clothes, they either had no cameras or only one, which made it easy to make it look like the assistant was simply handing stuff to her. If she had put more thought into it, she could do the exact same thing with dollar bills, have them believe it was a twenty, a fifty, a hundred, etc, at least it would look more legit on the cameras. Something to consider for the future if the need arose, but, big stores like this, they had security up the ying-yang, and she didn't look inconspicuous enough to pull it off. Granted, she could mess with all their minds and still make out like a bandit, but, that was guaranteed to draw unwanted attention from the likes of Sam and Dean; hunters who would have tracked her down and ended her because she was using her witchy ways to get a ton of free stuff.
Her gaze shifted to the approaching woman who was being nice and judgy at the same time, which was odd, but Shae simply matched her smile with one of her own, like a battle of the pearly whites. She looked to Sam for guidance, but then figured he was already being accused of being a 1950's husband, she didn't want him to look like that sort even more and have him make decisions for her. Hopefully this shop was cheap.
“I need a couple of dresses, skirts, jeans, tops, underwear and... womanly whatnots. But two hundred and fifty is my limit,” She nodded.
This would begin a whirlwind tour of the female section of the shop where Shaenna frequently recoiled in horror from anything presented that looked flowery or pastel coloured. Shae did prefer dark colours, aside from white and the occasional light grey, though they were usually reserved for bed wear or tops. She was pale enough as it was without looking like Casper's paler cousin.
In about an hour, a budget assortment of clothes were piled into her arms that covered her for a few clothing changes between wash loads, once she figured out how to do wash loads that was. She did wish that she had learned something that would have benefited the brothers, to make them think that they needed that in their life and couldn't be without it. She couldn't blood mage everything in her day to day life, not any more. She needed to learn something more useful.
“What are useful home skills to learn?” She asked the woman whilst she was leading her to the elusive unmentionable isle. She seemed like the homely sort that could do all that homely stuff. Shaenna assumed there was cooking, cleaning, and doing laundry, but, she couldn't cook, didn't know how to do laundry and her version of cleaning would have been on a par with a lazy guy or a teenager where it would all be shoved in a cupboard or some such, fully supporting the out of sight philosophy.
They had entered the feminine area and Shaenna picked up a box of tampons and looked at the picture. “I got to do what?!” She remarked looking at Sam mortified. Why did she need to insert balls tied up in string up there? Wait until Sam realised that she didn't know what menstrual cycles were on the account that she didn't have them.
The ice cream was helping the girl feel a little like herself, not quite, but it was all the ritualistic steps she would take whenever she needed to think, be cheered up, take a time out, or just cause. She had lost count how many parks she had sat in, watching young and old, the interaction of families and loved ones, while armed with an ice cream, be it tub or cone, her colourless gaze fixed on the world around her, the normal people engaging with one another, the love shared, the bonds that were all just alien to her. She had never really considered things before, about what her life would have been like, about the family that she must have had. It never entered her mind that there had to have been a mother to birth her and, unless she was like Jesus, a father to do the dirty. Perhaps she simply couldn't miss what she had never known. Maybe it was like being adopted, though, of course, some children craved to find their biological whereas others wouldn't even acknowledge their existence. Plus her 'adopted parent' was one of the original 666 demons, a Lucifer spawn. Well, it was a wonder she hadn't gone crack pot crazy long ago. He either did something right, or something wrong, depending on perception.
Today was the first day in the world of Winchester, not simply as a threat that needed to be guarded, or a place to dump her while they figured out what to do with her, but as a Winchestette – one of the team, maybe one of the family. Though, whether it would pan out that way Shaenna didn't know, apparently Chuck didn't give her the powers of a seer, which, she was actually grateful for, she didn't want to see the future or any possible version of it, her life was endless as it was without knowing everything that was going to happen along the way.
Her vision shifted to Dean as he spoke, already smothered in car juices – she didn't know what all the gunk that oozed from vehicles did; a car started, it moved, and it stopped, if it didn't do one of those three things then it was broke and that was where her knowledge ended on the topic. The mage didn't see them as much more as tools to getting somewhere more easily, she didn't understand the whole freedom that they offered because she had never not felt free. She could travel the world if she wanted, never stayed in one place, not tied to anything. This was obviously a hobby of his, to fix things, or break them, she was unsure which he was doing there, but the bike was in multiple pieces – assuming they all belonged to the bike originally. She didn't have hobbies. Shaenna hadn't considered that before that moment, but there wasn't anything that she did for fun, aside eat ice cream. She did like to do things, like singing, dancing, and clubbing, she loved music and the vibes from a load of sweaty bodies unified in a single location for a single purpose. Of course, she didn't know that people often used such environments to get wasted, do drugs, and get laid with perfect strangers, that part of the world remained unknown to her, so, she could only see the good that came with such things.
He talked, filling in the silence between them like he was opposed to the quiet shared. Maybe he thought he'd be more susceptible to her witchy ways if he let the eerie silence envelop him, or, perhaps, he was trying to build some bridges, if they were going to be living and working together, maybe he needed to realise that he would need to trust her, that she could be the difference between life and death for him or Sam. Maybe there was another reason all together. Shaenna had no idea how Dean thought, he didn't seem to be as open as Sam, and she didn't have social skills enough to know if she should be picking up key bits or signs to know what he was thinking or what motives he had in mind. She was normally quite talkative and outgoing, happy to engage with anyone, especially since interactions were few and far between for her. Sam was easier to be herself around him, but Dean, she didn't know where she stood, but did know that her future literally rested in his grubby little hands.
It felt like a trick statement, that she would have done the same if she was in his over sized work boots. If she agreed then that implied that she was an impulsive creature without any real comprehension of the ripple effect of her actions, and she could just as easily stab and innocent or a miss understood supernatural, which made her dangerous and unpredictable, which, in fairness, did describe her pretty well. But, if she disagreed then, did that mean she didn't have what it took to be a hero or a good guy? If she couldn't make the hard choices, to pull the trigger when it came down to it, would that mean he would consider her a liability? Evil? Or too greater a risk to have around him and his brother? In all honesty, it was a statement she couldn't respond to. She didn't know what she would have done if it was Dean being offered deals from demons and the devil, but, at the same time, Dean wasn't her either, his reactions to those deals may have been different. What if it wasn't the fate of the world but the fate of Sam that rested on him making a deal? So many variables came with such scenarios and now, Dean would never know if she would have been strong enough to have resisted, if she could have stopped herself becoming apocalyptic. Not once had either Winchester considered the fact that she had been around for all those decades and the world was still spinning. Even Sam had her capped the moment he knew the truth, maybe not directly, but, she was pretty sure he could have told Castiel not to do it. Dean tried to solve the problem more directly and permanent, again, not giving her the chance to prove what kind of person she was. Now she had no idea who or what she was. At least there was ice cream, the one dependable in her life.
The mage was tempted, since it was just her and him, to see if she could cast her magic, either put him to sleep or send him into a spiral of confusion. She wouldn't cast fear on him – probably. But, what if she tried and nothing happened? Or worse, something unexpected happened? She didn't want to kill him after all. So, she never moved from the spot, her rhythm of ice cream eating continued right down to the scraping of the bottom of the pot. Another tub down. She should have brought more with her.
Sam entered, the mage yet to speak to Dean, instead, she shifted her attention to the taller male and smiled. “That sounds good,” She responded, moving towards the bin and dropping the tub within it. “What are womanly whatnots?” She had to ask. Was there something she should have been getting all these years because she was a woman? Was it like make up or something? She did have a black lipstick once, that got lost somewhere along the line and, to be honest, she ended up looking more like the Joker after a few hours of being thrown about by some random nasty.
She looked to Dean and considered that, maybe, this would be an opportunity to work on one of those bridges. “Do you need any manly whatnots while we're out?”
She gave a weak smile to Sam, and a nod to Dean before walking out and trying to figure out where the bunks were again. Ordinarily, she'd be the first to prove how awesome she was, and would be absolutely certain that Dean would adore her unconditionally within twenty four hours, who wouldn't?! But, there was far too many uncertainties at the moment, how could she convince someone that she could be trusted after they had just needed to stab her to prevent her starting an apocalypse in the presence of Lucifer himself? That was crazy. How had she suddenly become the world's villain over night? By the sounds of things, it had been that way for decades, yet, she had never once thought that she was the evil one. Morally questionable, perhaps, but, surely many fell into such categories where the line between good and evil was blurred. Could Sam or Dean honestly say that they had never strayed off the beaten path of light in their entire lives? Okay, so, apparently her going off the beaten track of righteousness would have lead to the end of the world and the Dark God making a throne out of the skulls of her victims, but hey, nobodies perfect.
The mage finally found her room, the simplistic décor with a small rucksack slapped in the middle of the floor, half open, and her lacy dress thrown over a wooden chair. That was all that was there to say she existed, that this space was for her. She looked to the ebony laced dress with the purple underskirt that plumed up in silky layers. She had lived in dresses like that for decades, like a goth queen, and, with her ghostly companion, it all felt so normal. Walking towards it, she scooped up the dress and sat down on the edge of the bed. It was strange how one garment could make her feel so lonely and lost without Spooky around. She knew she should be angry with him for what he had in store for her, what she could have ended up doing with him in her life, because of him and his kin. She had a mother, probably a family, and they took her from that and hid her away while they made her into a monster. She should want to rip him apart. But, she didn't. She missed him and his odd little ways, his quirks that complimented her quirks, their adventures. There wasn't a memory she possessed, before Sam, that didn't feature the entity. Was she evil because of him? Or had he prevented her from crossing that line? Everything seemed blurred at that precise moment and the mage was unsure if she would be okay without him guiding her. Would Sam really take up that mantel? Would he guide and protect her? Would she even be any use to them now? Without her magic, she couldn't do anything else. She didn't know how to fight, or strategise, or even how to do research. Maybe nothing changed with her magically, she just couldn't go apocalyptic now, but, what if removing the darkness removed the blood magic from her? Would she have other magic abilities? Or would she just be like a mundane human who would never age? It was a scary concept for her, to live an eternity weak and useless. She needed guidance, support, someone to tell her it would be okay, and her little voice of reason was gone, possibly back to hell, or to do demonic things elsewhere.
Shaenna laid down upon the bed, still hugging that stupid dress. A tear fell, then another, and another, and, before she knew it, she was sobbing into the lace. Everything had changed so quickly and, while Sam was trying his best, his brother seemed there waiting for her to mess up so he could condemn her. How was she not going to mess up? Virtually every hunt she went on ended up as a colossal foul up, and that was when she roughly knew what she was doing and what she was capable of.
At some point, she must have simply cried herself to sleep, led there hugging a dress in a top with a hole in it. She dreamt of Sam and Spooky, both sharing an ice cream, leaning against Dean's car that was getting assaulted by seagulls relieving themselves.
There was no window in her cylinder block walled room, so, when she opened her puffy red eyes, she had no idea what time it was. She sat up, moving the dress off her and rubbed her eyes, then her face. She sat for a few minutes and worked on trying to wake herself up before finally endeavouring to hop off the bed and rummage through her rucksack to find something useful in the few garments she owned. Gathering a change in attire, her next task was to find the showers. She left the room and wandered the corridors that held artificial lights to allow her to see her way. It took a good deal of wandering before she found what she needed and spent some much needed time in showering and sorting herself out. By the time she had emerged, the puffiness around her eyes had diminished and her towel dried hair hung in a tangled cascade down the length of her back. A white halter top and a short black pleated skirt with some ankle boots had been her chosen attire, her other clothes deposited back in her room until she could be bothered to locate the laundry room, for now, however, she was on a quest to locate the kitchen.
Making a beeline past the stainless steel furnishings, Shaenna pulled open the freezer door and grabbed a tub of ice cream, not even bothering to look what flavour it was. Maybe she'd see where boring her got with the new bible, then she might have some idea what to add to it, to fluff it up and add some character to the, undoubtedly, textbook stuff already printed. At least boring her would have focused on the mundane stuff, which left experience and emotion to fill in the other pages, coupled with references from insightful people like Bon Jovi and Michael Jackson. Then that job will be done and, maybe she'll know by then what she could still do and whether she was staying in the bunker or forced to find a place of her own to do, what exactly? Without Spooky or Sam, there wasn't much hope that she could continue hunting, what would be the point? Man, she was going to need more than one tub of ice cream to cheer her up. So, she took another, then wandered out of the kitchen to find somewhere to consume vast quantities of sugar in its frozen form.
She was just entering the garage as she was finishing the first tub. The container discarded in a bin and the lid of the other along with it. The mage was just wandering aimlessly for the moment, maybe she should have gone up and ventured outside to see what time of day it was, but, down seemed more comforting.
The little mage turned away from where Spooks once hovered, guilt gnawing away at her gut for the betrayal she had just so openly caused. Had she condemned him? His job was to change her but, in the end, all she had proved was, not only that he had failed in ensuring the prophesy was fulfilled, he hadn't even managed to secure her trust and loyalty. The was little doubt that Lucifer would retaliate for such overwhelming failure, and that was on her. She understood that Sam wouldn't get why she would feel so bad for a demon who had been using her to secure the end of the world, but, for the longest time, it had been just her and him. The adventures, the laughs, the monumental c*ck ups, all those memories of the time shared. Spooks had been her spirit friend guiding and protecting her, keeping her safe from those, like Sam and Dean, who would kill her just for being a witch – nevermind instigator of The End. What would of happened if Spooky hadn't been there when she woke in the cave? All that power and no comprehension of how to use or control it, all scared and confused, with no memories. And, if she hadn't have been chosen, if they hadn't messed up the ritual, if they hadn't sent Spooky to finish the job, if Spooks hadn't of lead her to Alcatraz – if any one of those events hadn't of happened, she would never have met Sam. There was a lot of events leading to this moment and Spooky was pivotal in all of them. Shaenna knew she had made the right choice – even if it was for self preservation, but, it didn't man that the decision made wouldn't haunt her conscience for a very long time, wondering if she could have done it differently, should she have found harder for Spooky? Or asked Chuck to save him, but, what if he didn't want to be saved? Then, of course, there was the absence. Spooky had disappeared before but he always came back.. This time it felt different, it felt more final. Were they ever friends? Or was this nothing more than a business deal for a demon? Maybe she would never find out.
All the pain and confusion she was feeling was only being exasperated by the sudden influx of massive changes that had struck her life in seconds. The loss of Spooks, gaining new – what? Friends? Family? Coworkers? Bunk mates? Sam had mentioned her being able to stay with them, offering the potential of having her very own fixed abode for the first time ever, but what did that mean? Would there be rules? Conditions? Would Dean try stabbing her in the shower all Norman Bates from Psycho style? Shaenna wasn't great at 'getting the message', or picking up subtle hints, or reading her gut, but, she was fairly sure that stabbing someone was a sign of not liking them – unless it was done out of love like Wolverine and Jean in the third X-Men movies, though it was highly unlikely that Dean did it out of love. And what did that mean for them? He had just killed her and, when it didn't stick, he ended up with her as a room mate! So clearly there would be issues there. Then there was Sam. Shaenna really like Sam and enjoyed spending time with him. She liked how he looked at her and saw potential – that there was more to her than just being a fantabulously awesome blood mage. But, what happens now? Sam had saved the world, prevented a girl from going apocalyptic, severed her tie with a demon, and was even offering her time to get on her feet. Would that mean that it was all job done for him? Would he now distance himself from her until she got the message that they didn't really want a stray following them about? And, even all those changes didn't include the changes done to her and her magic. Chuck had removed the darkness from her soul, she had felt the change instantly as it lifted from her being that made her feel lighter. She had felt something similar whenever Spooky left her, only for the pressure to come back when he returned, but this experience was different, like Chuck had lifted her up Simba style. However, that was the only difference she had felt. Shaenna didn't know if she was still a blood mage, if she still remained like a porcelain doll that didn't age, if she would be casting out spells of fear and confusion or of rainbows and kittens and, without a target, there was no way of knowing until her life depended on it. Fantastic. What if she no longer had magic? What if Chuck had stripped her of all her power accept her ability to age? What if she could get sick?! The mage couldn't cope with man flu – it sounded really bad. There was so many changes that had happened, Shaenna didn't know who she was or how she would adjust to everything that was happening so quickly.
Thank Chuck for ice cream! It was the single constant in her life, the only thing she could depend on to never change. She smiled as Sam took her hand and the group retreated into the bunker as the sun ascended behind them, holding promise of a bright new day.
Before long, Shae was sat with a big tub of hazelnut and caramel ice cream, gorging on the frozen wonder like time itself had paused for her to savour the moment. The mage focused solely upon the task at hand. She was never great at multi tasking when ice cream was involved.
“It's okay,” She responded to Sam in regards to her loss of Spooky. She knew he didn't understand and there was no longer a need to explain it. “It was only going to go one of two ways and neither would have involved him,” She added some form of rationalisation, justification, for her choice. Either way someone looked at it, all roads, save one, would have ended with her destroying the world and it was very unlikely that Spooky would have stayed holding her hand at that point. Dean had probably come to the same conclusion and figured that the only certainty of ensuring that it didn't happen was to end the threat itself. She couldn't argue the logic, but wasn't overly impressed with the decision, especially considering it had left a blood stain and a gaping hole in her brand new top. She knew that, had he adjusted mere centimetres to his aim then her death would have been instant, not even a chance for her to try and save herself from her doom. It was that easy and there was nothing to stop him from doing it again.
She was happily scraping out the remnants of her ice cream when Dean's muffled tone broke the silence, submitting to the fact that she wasn't going to get any more out of the tub, the spoon was left within the carton while the mage used the lower part of her top to wipe her mouth – since it was destined for the bin anyway. She hoped that there was a tolerance factor in Dean's stipulation as, in her experience, hunts seldom went smoothly – and that was when she knew what kind of heat she was packing. Now she had no idea if slicing her hand would awaken her powers or just leave an ugly scar on her palm. She didn't know how to fight without magic and she about as much physical capabilities as a wet paper bag. What if they got in a situation where they needed her and she was unable to perform? What if Dean's view of screwing up bad was not replacing the empty shampoo in the shower? What if he just didn't like her and made it his mission to ensure she messed up?
Shaenna glanced towards Sam to see if his expression gave any hint towards this being a positive reaction from Dean, or if this was a Scooby Rut-Ro moment.
“No problem, boss man,” She returned her attention back to Dean and adopted her bright and cheerful tone to mask the many concerns now making a very tired head throb.
Ordinarily, she wasn't the sort to worry about all the if's, but's, and maybe's that life could possibly throw her way, but, she didn't have Spooky, and didn't know how to live on her own – she always had someone watching out for her, guiding her. She needed this and now it hung on the balance of getting the one who stabbed her to accept her fully into the club. There was a lot going against her at the moment, and Dean could literally be waiting for her to mess everything up.
“I think I'm going to crash for a bit, if that's okay?” She asked. She hadn't slept since Castiel super charged her brain and, if she was going to finish Chuck's book then she needed to participate on adventures to understand the emotional dynamics of a brother's bond, and, if she was going to do that then she needed sleep and to learn how to investigate stuff, since Spooks handled all of that. But first – sleep. Then a change of clothes. Then ice cream. Then hunting, brotherly love, and book.
![](https://i.imgur.com/bPuY6Vj.jpg")
