[Private: Voice] - open for spam

[irockatduckhunt]

[Private to self: Voice]

Why is everything going to shit? That's all I wanna know. Kurt's gone, the pub's gone, Dean's apparently suicidal, I haven't heard from Wichita since before that bomb went off so I'm assuming the worst, and same goes for Sam. I can't dump anything on my Inmate because he doesn't deserve that, and I just feel like I hit a

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spam~

[possemagnet]

Dean was walking back to get some sleep in which he didn't have to be sitting up right in the chair next to Sammy's bedside but he knew that he wouldn't. He knew that he'd have the same damn nightmares, the same damn restless sleep. So, he figured just a walk around with his crutches beneath his arms would soothe his mind.

He'd be back in the sick bay when Sam needed him. He had nowhere else to go and no one else to tend to. Hell, he'd almost been living there.

Passing Jo's door, though, he heard her screaming. The taut tone of her voice made him wince but he just shook his head and sucked it up. Leaning one one crutch and banging on the door with the other. "Jo? C'mon... it's me, open up."

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[irockatduckhunt]

It was a wonder Jo didn't yell out when he banged on the door, and she took a minute to pull herself together before padding over to answer it. She probably looked like crud, there was no doubt in her mind - hair up in a messy bun and pajama sweats that weren't exactly hostess-appropriate - but it was Dean and he'd already seen her at her worst, so whatthehell.

She opened the door just a little and peeked through the crack to make sure he was alone before pulling it open all the way, a few grains of salt dragging and scratching on the carpet from when she salted the doorway however long ago. Eh. Could probably stand to vacuum up her place, but she wasn't worried about that now. "Yeah?"

spam~

[possemagnet]

Dean put his crutch back beneath his arm and tilted his chin down to get a good look at her. It pissed him off that he was probably the cause of her break down and all of the extra precaution. He had screwed up, huge, but he hated to see everyone else suffer for it.

"You okay?" Obviously she wasn't, but it was a rudimentary question.

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[irockatduckhunt]

"Oh, I'm peachy." Jo almost rolled her eyes, but instead just stepped back to open the door a little more so he could get through. She was going to just ignore the sinking feeling in her gut from seeing Dean on crutches. She didn't want to feel bad, he brought this on himself. Literally, summoning those damn things. "C'mon in."

[spam; have your inmate, just like he promised~]

[future_games]

[Isaac had told Jo he would come sit with her, and that's what he was going to do. Despite all his problems, he generally wasn't one to break a promise or go back on his word. Hold off on things, yes, but he always got around to it eventually.

Sketchbook in hand, he made his way to Jo's cabin. He had swiped the book from the art room and had been doing some more serious sketching within its pages recently. He doubted that it was anything prophetic, but Jo has sounded too worried to be entirely okay when she spoke to him earlier and he hoped that it might ease her mind in knowing that even through the extreme withdrawls, her inmate's mental health had taken a turn for the better. He had been lucky enough to get a waren who actually cared and the least he could do was show her that her work thus far hadn't been for nothing. He knocked quietly on the door and stood back, waiting for an answer.]

[spam; yaaaayyy inmaaate!]

[irockatduckhunt]

[Jo's paranoia flared for a minute, resulting in her hopping off the bed and just staring at the door like something was going to break in whether she answered it or not. It took a minute to shake off the feeling, but when she walked over and opened the door, it was obvious she was feeling a little edgy. Or a lot.]

Isaac, hey. [Well, this was embarrassing - there was a good possibility he could have heard her ranting and that... wasn't exactly ideal. And of course she was wearing his pants, of course, because that wasn't just the awkward cherry on the awkward sundae. She stepped aside to let him in, eyes falling downcast before she started to blush. Which was good though, because that made her notice his sketchpad.] Movin' on up from crayon doodles?

[spam]

[future_games]

[Isaac, quite honestly, didn't even notice that Jo was wearing the pants he had loaned her during that epicly freaky gender-swap flood. If he had looked more closely or been a little more perceptive, he may have noticed the familiar paint stains along the legs, but it just wasn't on his agenda today to be complaining about pants.]

Oh, yeah, onto handprint turkeys now. [He managed a grin as he brushed by an into the cabin. There wa obvious concern, however, in his next words.] How are you?

[spam]

[irockatduckhunt]

Right on. [Jo was quick to shut the door behind him, not exactly hesitant to slide the chain lock into place either. Paranoia really did not look good on Jo Harvelle.] Been better? I guess. Just dealin' with a some crap I thought I left behind back at home. [There's a part of her that wants to get into it, talk about it, but she knows it probably wouldn't be right of her to.

She walked over to her bed, legs curling under her once she sat down.] I'm just hopin' there's some kinda port soon, that'll be the easiest way to get my mind off of everything.