Dean Winchester

[Dean Winchester]

[app] Dean Martin Winchester [/app]

[app]Full Name:[/app] Dean Martin Winchester
[app]Preferred Nickname/Alias:[/app] Dean
[app]Gender:[/app] Male
[app]Age:[/app] 33
[app]Sexual Orientation:[/app] Straight
[app]Member Group:[/app] Hunter
[app]Canon or Original:[/app] Canon

Dean’s roughly average in height, with dusty brown hair that he keeps cut short. He’s handsome, there’s no getting around it, with hazel eyes and a strong nose and square jaw that he keeps fairly clean shaven. He keeps himself in excellent shape somehow regardless of how horrifically he eats and has exactly one tattoo, identical to that of his brother, on his left pectoral. He’s also bowlegged.

Unless dressed in something for a role he’s playing – FBI agent, for example - he tends to dress in jeans and tee shirts, flannels, army issue crap, along with a leather jacket.

[app]Face Claim:[/app] Jensen Ackles

[app]Likes:[/app]

• Pie
  
• The Impala
  
• Busty Asian Beauties
  
• Alcohol
  
• Family – in all the ways he builds and defines it
  
• Classic rock
  
• His arsenal
  
• Bobby’s house
  
• Bacon cheeseburgers
  
• Fatherhood

[app]Dislikes:[/app]

• Demons
  
• Angels
  
• Shitty motel rooms
  
• Health Food
  
• Yanni or any of that other cultured crap. Is that even culture? Seriously? Dude looks like a chick. And not in the good way.
  
• Normalcy
  
• Computers or anything else modern that he just does not have time to figure out.
  
• Pop music
  
• Dicks – and that’s both the literal and figurative kind, thanks
  
• Seriously, what’s Facebook?

[app]Strengths:[/app]

• Tenacity
  
• Loyalty
  
• Monster/Angel/Demon knowledge
  
• Weapons skill
  
• Mechanical Skill

[app]Weaknesses:[/app]

• Loyalty
  
• Stubbornness
  
• Temper
  
• Self-esteem
  
• Poor decision making skills

[app]Fears:[/app]

• Losing Sam permanently
  
• What he’s capable of

[app]Secrets:[/app]

• Sometimes he wishes Sam had just stayed dead.
  
• Others, he wishes he had.

[app]Habits and Quirks:[/app]

• Lip singing to bad 80s rock, whether people are watching or not
  
• Eating his feelings or shoving down his feelings or ignoring his feelings or not admitting that feelings exist at all until he has no choice but to acknowledge them somehow (see beer on car scenario mentioned below, also habitual).

[app]Overall Personality:[/app]

People that don’t know Dean say he’s a tough nut to crack (if that person is anywhere near being an attractive woman, Dean will then make a comment about letting her at his nuts any time she wants), but anyone that knows him at all well knows he’s really not that much of a mystery. He has a tough exterior but is a man who feels, deeply, about just about everything in his life. He has the unfortunate tendency to let said feelings out while drinking a beer and sitting on a car. The author personally thinks that’s why he’s switched to hard alcohol of late as beer is clearly an emotional trigger.

In all seriousness, Dean has issues, who wouldn’t after the life – and death – he’s led? He holds the people he loves close, too close in some cases, and to a higher (or, sometimes, lower) standard than he holds the rest of the world. He blames himself for a lot of things that aren’t really his fault. He has unresolved daddy issues, issues to do with his own self worth, with his mother’s death, with having been to Hell and what he did while he was there, with, hell, days ending in Y.

All of it, the angels and demons, Lucifer and God, the end of the world, Sam falling into the cage, the latest rift between them and the last diner he visited being out of pie, are all starting to form cracks that are more like than not probably not going to ever heal. He has a dry, sarcastic sense of humor that, at least with Sam, leans toward mockery. He has a sharp sense of perception but is more than capable of being an utter idiot. He thinks he’s charming when he really isn’t all that much, but does manage to pull off doltishly cute.

[app]Family:[/app]

• Relationship: John – father, dead…ish?
  
• Sam – brother, alive
  
• Ben – sonnish type

[app]Overall History:[/app]

It seems everyone knows the story of the Winchesters – mother killed when they were so little (Dean being the one who carried his brother from the burning house and he’s been trying to keep him safe ever since), father gone near fanatical in his hunting and raising Dean to be the same. They all seem to know how Sam got away, went to school, got pulled back in.

How the brothers routinely sacrifice themselves for one another.

It’s all there, for anyone who wants to follow their exploits and Dean finds it more than a little weird just how many people and non-quite-people do – and don’t even get him started on the fact that he has a fandom.

But no matter how much a person thinks they know, they don’t know the half of it. They can’t possibly know what it was like growing up with John Winchester, trying as hard as he could to be the son he wanted and never seeming to be good enough. Trying to protect Sam and failing at that, too, and taking his brother’s shit on top of it, even after he told him about the monsters. The years without Sam. Getting him back and trying to save him, selling his soul. Death by hell hound and decades in the pit only to be pulled out by an angel who became family. Saving the world. Again.

Only to lose Sam and give up the life. Or, trying to give it up anyway. One year of normal, of being a father and in a stable relationship. Getting Sam back and having to leave that, something that was one of the easiest and hardest things he’s ever done and considering the list of things he’s done, that’s saying something.

No one knows what that’s like and if they’re stupid enough to ask, Dean doesn’t tell them.

Unless there’s beer being served anywhere near the hood of his car.

[app]Member Title:[/app]

[app]Roleplaying Sample:[/app]

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d really slept, not for more than two hours at a stretch. Months, probably, though he didn’t try too hard to chase the date down, it would only depress him.

He checked his refection out in the mirror behind the bar and thought he looked like hell – still totally doable, mind, but less good than was the norm. His eyes were blood shot, sitting atop dark circles so purple they looked almost black. The only real rest he got came when he hit the bottle too hard, and that didn’t help the way he looked all that much. Made it worse, in point of fact, though he wouldn’t admit it out loud if it came down to it. Not that it would, who was even talking to him these days?

He looked down, noting his hand resting on the cell phone and scowled. There were only two people he wanted to talk to, and neither one wanted all that much to do with him. They all pretended - him and Lisa, him and Sammy - that everything was fine. It was just that it was too late to talk, or Ben was listening, or there was a cow that had just exploded (okay, that had been legit and how cool had those pictures been? Very, that’s how cool) and someone had to go. It was never him, though, that hung up first, that rushed off, that probably felt relieved when the line died.

He clenched his jaw, signaling for another shot from the bar keep who looked only a little less beleaguered than he did. And his hair piece was on crooked. Dean snorted as he noticed it. At least he still had his hair. And his body. And let’s face it, his way with the ladies. Never mind that he’d not tried it out in more time than he’d admit to and while he was at it, never mind just how many things he was acknowledging he wouldn’t acknowledge.

Speaking of women, he noticed one noticing him from the other end of the bar and nodded in greeting. Her smile, wan and as tired as anyone else’s in the bar, gained new life, eyes heating a bit as she returned his look. He pondered it, taking her up on the offer that was written all over her face, but the shot landing in front of him distracted him. Tossing it back, he tossed two bills down and pulled on his coat. He needed to sleep it off enough to get back on the road. All signs pointed to something dark and nasty having landed in Greenlawn and he could be there in less than three hours.

He shook himself all over like a wet dog, feeling the heat from the liquor distribute as he did so, though something told him that was probably his imagination. Noting the woman’s look of confusion as he passed her without invitation, he muttered,”You’re welcome,” and headed out to the car. No one needed his level of fucked up, not even for a couple hours.

---

[app]Player Name:[/app] Shan
[app]Player Age:[/app] 37
[app]Years Roleplaying:[/app] Eighteen, give or take
[app]Where You Found Us:[/app] Briar kinda owns my soul, it’s a long story involving a deal and a donut, but where she goes, I wind up.
[app]Other Characters:[/app] None as of this writing
[app]Favorite Supernatural Episode:[/app] Mystery Spot – the death montage gets me every time. I’m even laughing while I write that I like it.
[app]Favorite Supernatural Character:[/app] Cas and Bobby, hands down.

[Devi B.]