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wills

Why does everything have to eat souls or devour people or dissect you or terrorize everything in this place? I don't get the appeal of it all. What are we, a delicacy? Is that it? Brought here to be a food source for everything?

Talk about gross.

Don't these monsters and stuff know we're bad for their figure?

[Locked to Constantine Household] ( Read more... )

John? You wanna go down to the market thing, maybe? We could drag Gabriel? It feels like it's been forever since I got to shop or anything. And you know angels probably don't get the opportunity to window shop. Or... cart shop. Or. You know. Whatever.

Christmas is just around the corner, anyway. Which isn't entirely fair, what with the lack of ( Read more... )

[Her voice is thick and scratchy. It wavers.]

See? Be fine, huh? We're out. Out. And we'll get you back to Owen, make you feel better.

[For a long time, all he does is cough. When he speaks, his voice is hoarse and wet.]

Sure, love. Right as rain. Get him to... [He coughs again, though it does not last.] ...see to you first. Not hurt that bad ( Read more... )

John! John? Where are you?

[Under her breath.]

God, this is all my fault.

[Purring, near insistant purring.]

I thought you were supposed to be Owen's cat, huh? Why don't you go jump up in his lap while he's writing.

[An inquisitive, pleading sort of meow from the cat. Willow laughs. The purring resumes.]You dork ( Read more... )

[The sound clicks on with something like nails or claws scraping the communicator, before it gives way to a more distant rustle of fabric.]

Illow?

It'll only take like twenty minutes. And then I can go find that Thorn place. It's not all that dangerous. Not really.

[The throcken huffs, unconvinced.]

I know how to summon lightning.

Ician ould ( Read more... )

[Groggy.]

...nnh, Saturday, no school today, don't have to...

[A shift, fabric rustles. And then, a confused sound.]

Uncle John?

Owen? You busy? Kind of... Kind of... Sick. A little. Maybe. Gross, really. I don't know that it's important, just kind of sleepy and hot. Don't feel so well.

Looks like varicose veins.

Kinda wish the rain would stop. Like really. Um. This is bad.

Um. Thanks John, you know... For everything. And, uh, hey Crawford and Michael are okay, right? And Lucifer and that other John guy are back to normal, and...

Can it please just stay like this? ...Minus the rain.