Ellen Harvelle (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
justrunsasaloon) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
kore_logs2013-06-22 11:03 am
justrunsasaloon) wrote in kore_logs2013-06-22 11:03 am
Entry tags:
(no subject)
Who: Mama BearEllen and you!
Where: The land of dreeeeeams
When: Days 83-88
Warnings: Canonical death, destruction, demons… it’s Supernatural, so be warned
1. There’s propane tanks wired together. Pails of rock salt and nails are next to them. At the counter, two figures are huddled together, bloody, sweaty, with tear lines on their face. A blonde head rests against the shoulder of the older woman. Jo’s body is warm next to her. Their hands clasp around the switch together.
Then, there’s nothing but stillness. “Honey?” Her voice cracks. Her lips quiver when there’s no answer. She looks straight ahead and doesn’t blink. “Jo –“ The sob breaks free and her hand tightens on Jo’s. “It’s okay; it’s okay.” She sobs out. It is. It’s going to be okay. Ellen leans over and kisses Jo on the head. Her baby girl. “That’s my good girl.” She whispers.
She leans her head back and swallows the tears. A warm breath stirs her head and she glances out of the corner of her eye. “You can go straight back to hell, you ugly bitch!”
2. The pickup truck roars down the road, the windows open, headed for someplace unknown. Scenery whizzes past. Ellen is younger and looking at a map. Her hair is up in a ponytail, and her bare feet are on the dash. The nails are bright pink.
She’s munching on some fries. The other man is tall, lean. There’s a tattoo on his forearm that is simply her name and a heart. He tries to steal her fries. Ellen moves them out of the way without looking.
“Ellen.”
“Bill.”
The man, his green eyes laughing, huffs out a sigh. “I’m hungry.”
“Sure does suck.” She throws a fry at him and goes back to studying the map, marking something on it before stuffing a couple fries in her mouth. Then she starts laughing as he leans over and mouths her neck while still keeping his eyes on the road. “ACK! Drive! Drive, Bill! Eyes on the road!” She laughs, squirming away from him against the door. “Here, you big baby.” She offers her fries, laughing.
“Thank you.” He grins and pops a few into his mouth.
3. The roadhouse is empty and quiet. Ellen sits at a table. There are chairs on the other tables. The bar is clean, sparkling glasses shining from the towel they’re drying on. The jukebox is turned off. The fans overhead squeak softly.
In front of her is a picture of a blond man with green eyes, his arm around her and a pretty blonde baby girl in his other. There’s a bottle of whiskey in front of her and an empty tumbler.
Ellen’s eyes well with tears and then they fall down her cheeks, streaking through the dust from finishing up the evening cleaning. The door gently swings in the wind behind John Winchester as he left. She can’t quite feel yet.
A sob breaks free and Ellen’s fingers brush over the photograph. Her head falls forward onto her arm and she sobs to the floor, screaming out her husband’s name. She curls in on herself and just cries. She can’t breathe properly and the tears spatter her arm, the floor, her legs. She doesn’t care.
A warm hand lands on her shoulder and she jerks, falling off the chair. She stares upwards.
“Ellen, honey? What happened? Is it Joanna Beth? Where is she? What’s wrong?”
She surges up and grabs him, burying her face in his shoulder. “Bill… Bill, you’re okay. You’re okay.”
He cradles her to him. “Of course.” His head drops to drop a kiss on her shoulder. “What happened? Where’s Jo?”
“She’s fine. She’s… she’s with Felicia. I thought you were… John said that –“
He cups her face. “Of course I’m fine. It was just a demon. What did Winchester say?” He looks like his temper is sparking.
Ellen just shakes her head. “Nothing. It’s okay. Let’s go get Jo.”
Where: The land of dreeeeeams
When: Days 83-88
Warnings: Canonical death, destruction, demons… it’s Supernatural, so be warned
1. There’s propane tanks wired together. Pails of rock salt and nails are next to them. At the counter, two figures are huddled together, bloody, sweaty, with tear lines on their face. A blonde head rests against the shoulder of the older woman. Jo’s body is warm next to her. Their hands clasp around the switch together.
Then, there’s nothing but stillness. “Honey?” Her voice cracks. Her lips quiver when there’s no answer. She looks straight ahead and doesn’t blink. “Jo –“ The sob breaks free and her hand tightens on Jo’s. “It’s okay; it’s okay.” She sobs out. It is. It’s going to be okay. Ellen leans over and kisses Jo on the head. Her baby girl. “That’s my good girl.” She whispers.
She leans her head back and swallows the tears. A warm breath stirs her head and she glances out of the corner of her eye. “You can go straight back to hell, you ugly bitch!”
2. The pickup truck roars down the road, the windows open, headed for someplace unknown. Scenery whizzes past. Ellen is younger and looking at a map. Her hair is up in a ponytail, and her bare feet are on the dash. The nails are bright pink.
She’s munching on some fries. The other man is tall, lean. There’s a tattoo on his forearm that is simply her name and a heart. He tries to steal her fries. Ellen moves them out of the way without looking.
“Ellen.”
“Bill.”
The man, his green eyes laughing, huffs out a sigh. “I’m hungry.”
“Sure does suck.” She throws a fry at him and goes back to studying the map, marking something on it before stuffing a couple fries in her mouth. Then she starts laughing as he leans over and mouths her neck while still keeping his eyes on the road. “ACK! Drive! Drive, Bill! Eyes on the road!” She laughs, squirming away from him against the door. “Here, you big baby.” She offers her fries, laughing.
“Thank you.” He grins and pops a few into his mouth.
3. The roadhouse is empty and quiet. Ellen sits at a table. There are chairs on the other tables. The bar is clean, sparkling glasses shining from the towel they’re drying on. The jukebox is turned off. The fans overhead squeak softly.
In front of her is a picture of a blond man with green eyes, his arm around her and a pretty blonde baby girl in his other. There’s a bottle of whiskey in front of her and an empty tumbler.
Ellen’s eyes well with tears and then they fall down her cheeks, streaking through the dust from finishing up the evening cleaning. The door gently swings in the wind behind John Winchester as he left. She can’t quite feel yet.
A sob breaks free and Ellen’s fingers brush over the photograph. Her head falls forward onto her arm and she sobs to the floor, screaming out her husband’s name. She curls in on herself and just cries. She can’t breathe properly and the tears spatter her arm, the floor, her legs. She doesn’t care.
A warm hand lands on her shoulder and she jerks, falling off the chair. She stares upwards.
“Ellen, honey? What happened? Is it Joanna Beth? Where is she? What’s wrong?”
She surges up and grabs him, burying her face in his shoulder. “Bill… Bill, you’re okay. You’re okay.”
He cradles her to him. “Of course.” His head drops to drop a kiss on her shoulder. “What happened? Where’s Jo?”
“She’s fine. She’s… she’s with Felicia. I thought you were… John said that –“
He cups her face. “Of course I’m fine. It was just a demon. What did Winchester say?” He looks like his temper is sparking.
Ellen just shakes her head. “Nothing. It’s okay. Let’s go get Jo.”
no subject
Her fingers finally manage to relight the rag in the bomb and she throws it at the Wendigo, setting it on fire. "LIGHT IT UP!" She calls to the other woman, crawling over to Bill. She shrugs out of her jacket, pressing it to his side.
no subject
She torches the creature until it stops moving, and then takes a few steps back toward Ellen and Bill. Killing is something she can do, at least.
no subject
Ellen looks at the woman. "Thank you. For your help." She's not sure what this means.
The dream around them flickers. Replacing the dank walls of the cave, ever so briefly, is a crystalline city. Then the walls come back, but Bill is gone.
Ellen looks around. "What the hell?" She asks, picking up the flamethrower again.
no subject
"This again?" she wonders, frowning. "What's the deal with this place..."