Knockin' On Heaven's Door

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

Who: Dean Winchester and EVERYBODY
Where: Outside the mansion, between the orchards and the Checkerboard Hills
When: July 4; dusk finally sets in and the stars are coming out
Rating: PG to PG-13, for language
Summary: Dean decides that a little patriotism can't hurt in a place devoid of Americana.
The Story: There's a piercing whistle in the air, pitch lowering like a bomb about to drop.  A fizzling crackle, and then-

BOOM!

Red explodes across the night sky, and a figure next to a crate is staring up at it, laughing.  He pulls another set of Roman Candles from the bin and lights them with his Zippo, stepping back to watch the mortars burst into thousands of tiny stars.  The mansion certainly didn't disappoint with the fireworks. Dean Winchester has left his comm unit on, sitting next to his duffel bag, but doesn't appear to be paying any attention to it.

In fact, he's setting up another row of those Whistling Chandelier rockets, lighting the fuses and hurrying back to a slope to lean against it and enjoy a slice of Americana.

Apple pie, a few beers, and explosives.  The founding fathers would be proud.

 

 

Comments

[timisnotme.livejournal.com]

Tim was going to spend Fourth of July sitting alone in his room with a case of Pabst Blue Ribbon, but when the first few fireworks go off, he has a better idea. He pockets his comm, disappears into the closet for a few minutes, and comes back with a giant duffelbag which he slings over his shoulder and heads out towards the signs of patriotism.

Let's get this party started.

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

Dean hails his new comrade-in-arms as he approaches. It's been a while since he last saw the guy, but he remembers talking to him since then over the communicator.

"Tim, right?"

He grins, taking another swig of beer and crossing his legs. Dean tilts his head back to look up at the fireworks he just set off.

"You bring some more goods? I hear the best fireworks come from Alabama."

[timisnotme.livejournal.com]

"I brought lots." Being supernaturally strong has some benefits afterall. Not only did he bring a buttload of fireworks, but he has a small charcoal BBQ and some brauts. Also more beer because, hey, there's never enough of that.

"We've got nothing better to do than sit around and make shit blow up." He grins and lights one of the medium sized blue ones, he sets it on the ground a bit away from them and then stands back. It shoots off into the sky and makes a lovely star pattern before fizzling out.

"I guess the closet took my request for patriotic fireworks pretty literally."

[itsahotone.livejournal.com]

To be honest, Santana's first thought when she hears sudden fireworks is:

"Oh god, please don't be Sue Slyvester."

Who else would announce their arrival in such a way?

But then she gets out there, sees Dean, and her nerves turn to annoyance.

"Seriously?"

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

Dean quirks a grin and extends a handful of sparklers after turning his back on another lit rocket. It shoots up into the sky and he cringes at the whistle, waiting until it explodes to speak to Santana.

"Want one? It's American."

[itsahotone.livejournal.com]

"...What else would it be?" She looks at the sparklers with suspicion, as if it's a trap.

idek, man, he's a grumpybutt. HI DEAN :'D

[idkmybfftrash.livejournal.com]

Fucking Americans, always so goddamn loud and obnoxious. Ugh. Upon seeing this, and enduring the booms making his window rattle annoyingly for longer than he cares to, Xanxus goes to make a special request from the Magical Closet of Holding, then stomps on down to the hills, scowling the whole way.

While you're there enjoying your pie and beer and annoying as hell explosions, Xanxus stalks up and, from about 20-30 yards away, javelins a steel pole towards you with a piece of cloth fluttering in the wind, attached to the end.

The rod sinks violently into the ground right between your feet. The piece of cloth? The Italian flag.

"Viva Italia. And shut the fuck up."

PARTY POOPER. :(

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

Dean is unphased. He's dealt with objectionable people before - Hell, he's one of them. Being belligerent is his speciality. He regards the flag with slight disinterest, having already imbibed copious amounts of beer, and smiles crookedly.

"You got it all wrong," he exclaims, arms akimbo.

"I lik- No, dude, I love Italians. Pizza," Dean informs the man yards away, "Is one of the greatest inventions that mankind has created. And I mean, you guys got some good stuff, too, especially with competition like the freakin' bacon cheeseburger. Have you tried one of those?"

He's a Debbie Downer :(

[idkmybfftrash.livejournal.com]

He's sauntering over because, dammit, it's kind of hard to hear from 20ish yards away and he's not really in the mood to shout over fireworks. But he does so leisurely, scowling all the while like merely being in your presences is offensive to him. And yes, he has tried bacon cheeseburgers, and yes, they are awesome, but no, you don't need to know that. "Next time I'm in the mood for cardiac arrest I'll send someone out for it."

When he gets close enough he yanks the patriotic flag-spear out of the ground and examines it, looking like he's far more interested in it than he is in Dean. This nationalism javelin was actually a pretty awesome idea and he's a little proud of himself. He'll have to take one of these with to the next World Cup.

"'Pizza' is an insult. If you're going to kiss Italy's ass for something do it for the wine."

[pricesandvaules.livejournal.com]

When he hears the explosions, his first thought is Deuce, Deuce is here.
He dismisses the notion quickly--anyone can set off a bomb or a rocket--but goes to investigate anyway.
The source is easy to find, but he refuses to raise his voice, waiting until he is just behind Dean to speak.

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

"Jesus, dude!"

He sort of spills beer on his jacket, cursing again and wiping it off before turning to look at Droog.

"D'you think you could creep any quieter?"

[pricesandvaules.livejournal.com]

[turn4bout.livejournal.com]

Terezi nearly falls out of her window when she tastes cherry-apple blast in the sky. She does topple out when sour grape punch explodes across her "vision," followed quickly lemon-lime, glacial blueberries, and--

Oh god.

She jet packs to the ground, tucks, and roooooollls for a perfect 10 point landing, winning the Beijing Olympics. THE CROWD GOES WILD!!!

But Terezi doesn't give a damn because she's stumbling drunkenly towards the source, tongue lolling about, slobber all over the place. At some point, she's just going to bump into Dean.

""

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

"Whoa, hey-"

Dean is just bending down to light another set of fireworks when Terezi bumps into him. He stands, brushing his jeans off and pocketing his Zippo before grinning down at her.

There is very little else that can brighten someone's mood the way that explosives can.

"Heeeey, Terezi, yeah?"

Dean is just a tiny bit off-balance. It comes with the territory when you're drinking and lighting things on fire.

"I'm good, I am...real good. Celebratin' Independence Day. Came out to taste the rainbow, huh?"

[turn4bout.livejournal.com]

""

This is obviously an amazing concept. Amazingly beautiful. It brings a single teal tear to her eye. One that she wipes on Dean's shirt.

""

[kch-kch.livejournal.com]

Alright, so, yes, for a man from the 1500's, the sounds of explosions were, initially, quite terrifying. But he gets over it rather quickly, really, once he looks outside and sees the pretty lights.

Now he's just excited. This is so fantastic! Who would've though to fire explosives into the air for entertainment? Other than the Chinese.

Now just to compliment the man who's apparently behind it all. Miguel meets up with him just as he returns from lighting more rockets, smiling broadly and practically vibrating with enthusiasm. "This is fantastic, amigo! I've never seen anything like it!"

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

Another newcomer! At least this one seems pleased by the exploding displays of grandeur. Dean finds it a little amusing that the man is practically bouncing up and down, but then again - not everyone's seen fireworks before.

Those poor, tortured souls.

"You like 'em?" Dean grins, turning to watch one of the rockets spiral up into darkness and, with a loud CRACK, shatter the night sky with thousands of red and green sparkles. When it's through, he looks back at the other man.

Never seen him before. Interesting.

"They're fireworks. Real popular in my country," he tries to keep his smile from widening at the blonde's clothing. "Dude, what century are you from?"

[kch-kch.livejournal.com]

That is a good question! Miguel blinks for a moment, trying to remember. Living on the fringes of society can make your sense of time advancing a little confused. Not to mention he's been in this place for so long, it seems...

"It was fifteen-ninety...something when I was back, uh, home." Home being a relative term seeing as he'd been in the New World, and not even the part of the New World he could've called home.

"Is it that obvious I'm out of place?" He laughs, fully aware he sticks out like a sore thumb. At least his appearance keeps people interested enough that he's never that lonely.

His eyes return to the sky, a broad grin in place. "Fireworks. Amazing."

[action]

[playingbadcop.livejournal.com]

Benny has a little red wagon--yes, you read that right the closet wouldn't give him a golf cart--piled high with similar explosives and lashed down with twine.

If anything, he's pleased to see that someone's beaten him to the punch. He waits for a likely gap between blasts (he likes his eyebrows, thank you) and approaches, grinning.

"You got a permit for that?"

[action]

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

Dean welcomes Benny with open arms, because more fireworks are obviously necessary. They can't just run out. That would be unpatriotic.

"You're not gonna arrest me, are you, Officer?"

He leans to one side, appraising the haul.

"Oh, Hell yes. More Roman candles. I was runnin' out."

[action]

[playingbadcop.livejournal.com]

"I could."

He is eyeballing Dean's pile as well. The kid has good taste. Lots of the classics, and some stuff he doesn't recognize.

"But in the spirit of you bein' the only guy with enough goddamn patriotism to come out here and do somethin', consider yourself permitted."

His grin broadens, and he gestures expansively to his wagon full of rockets.

"What's mine is yours."

and one more to make up for being late, HOPE YOU DON'T MIND

[toughbr8k.livejournal.com]

_{She could probably creep up on him pretty quietly, but that would ruin the fun of appearing directly behind him and breathing warmly down his neck.}

<333

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

What the Hell is with the bug people and sneaking around? They're already black enough to blend in with the shadows - is the element of surprise just a trademark? He starts a little, whipping around and looking straight up at Snowman.

"Uh."

Dean laughs nervously, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets.

"Holiday festivities? We do it every July where I'm from." His smiles turns crooked, "You endorse explosions, right?"

Sorry for being so late ;-;

[rebelroses.livejournal.com]

[At first she was going to complain, but she forgot what day it was. Oh shit! Are those roman candles?! Oh my god! Modernized fireworks! She's hurrying outside and to where ever this is taking place.]

It's okay~

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

[Dean is still blowing things up. Blowing them up forever. Occasionally, he will break to drink some beer.

Then more explosives.

All night long.

On the hill.]