forget your lust for the rich man's gold

[ruinously]

CHARACTERS: Dean Winchester ruinously, Raleigh Becket unbreachable, and YOU
LOCATION: All over the station
DATE: Post mission
CONTENT: Catchall stuff for April!
WARNINGS: Mentions of hell, PTSD, radiation sickness, cancer, death. Will notify in subject lines@



prompts will go below in the comments! hmu at pincurls if you want something specific, or just throw some spaghetti at the wall and we'll see what sticks.

Comments

[winscenario]

[ He promptly steps inside and closes the door behind him, taking the invitation and crossing the distance to Dean's bed, taking up a seat right next to him. He's not up for a drink just yet, but he is interested in what Dean's doing, so unless the journal is hidden away, he peers into it curiously. ]

Ah— a journal. I keep one of those too, [ He comments. ] Most people back home think it's silly and a little outdated, but what do they know, right?

[ruinously]

[ He lays it in his lap, wide open for perusal. It's a sketch of his wings, actually, so he doesn't forget what they look like. If he's allowed to keep this, he'd like to show Sam sometime, provided they survive what happens to come. ]

Not shit, apparently. [ He grins. ] My dad always kept one. Full of notes and drawings and stuff. I actually have it with me.

[winscenario]

[ Jim lets out an impressed little sound, picking up the journal so he can get a better look at the sketch. While he's at it, he takes a little peek at previous pages, provided Dean doesn't mind. ]

This looks good, Dean. Never would've pinned you for an artist, [ He teases a little, nudging his leg against Dean's. ] Is it personal? Or can I see his journal too?

[ruinously]

Well, I dunno about all that.

[ artist...eh. He'd call it amateur at best. It's just practice. Still, it makes him blush. ]

Uh, yeah. Sure. [ It isn't far away either, stuffed under the bed, and he gropes for it and hands it over, abandoning his pen in favor of his whiskey glass. ]

[winscenario]

[ Well, Jim doesn't think one needs to be a professional to be an artist, and besides, practice makes perfect. As long as Dean enjoys drawing, not much else matters.

He takes the journal with a thanks, opening it and leafing through the pages. He's mostly curious about the similarities and differences, not just in style but in content as well; how much Dean may have learned from his father in this aspect too. ]

[ruinously]

He was really meticulous.

[ There's newspaper articles taped to pages with cramped, handwritten notes underneath, sketches of monsters, copious amounts of notes and symbols littering each page. Dean's still working on his, so his pages aren't as nearly filled out, but it's just habit, at this point. ]

I think Sam's the better artist, though.

[winscenario]

Yes, I can see that.

[ To Jim, none of it is quite real, more fantasy than anything, even if he knows it's real in Dean's world. But it's no less fascinating, and he takes his time reading some portions of text, looking over the pictures of monsters and symbols that litter the pages. ]

Well, still. Yours are pretty good. Do you have anything of Sam's?