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Nov. 11th, 2009

Hmmmm...

On the Case

Two days in a car and no one had told her to go home yet. This was off to a good start.

Jo's stomach growled and she cast a glance towards the diner's kitchen. No such luck.

Of course, her stomach could be gurgley for another reason. When they'd walked into the brewery, the smell of it, of all that beer, hit her like a punch in the gut.

It had smelled like home.

She wondered what her mom was up to, thoughts turning melancholy as she hoped her mother wasn't TOO angry with her.

Luckily, she didn't wallow for long since the waitress showed up with their drinks and a promise that food was soon to come.


Aug. 31st, 2009

So Far From Home

Ready to Go

Everyone went their separate ways to pack so Jo headed back to her motel.

Not that she had anything to pack.

It was embarassingly overeager on her part, but she'd been packed since shortly after her first meeting with Reggie, on the faint hope they might let her work on a case.

She double checked her things, not that she had much.

Her fingers brushed against a familiar worn leather sheath.

She pulled the blade out, lightly tracing the initials carved into the metal. "W.A.H."

She was pretty sure her Dad would be proud of her, though some days that "pretty sure" wasn't good enough.

Pushing those thoughts aside, she strapped on the ankle sheath she sometimes used, slipping her father's knife into the leather pocket, and headed back to Foundation HQ.
Heh Heh

Your Party Has Died of Cholera...

Jo bit back a snicker at the results from the quiz Dawn had found. "You'd have made a great pioneer" indeed. For some reason, all she could think of was Oregon Trail and the little sad music that played when one of your party bit it.

Wait, that wasn't a very cheery thought...



Heh heh. Couldn't much dispute that "leap before you look". Wasn't she doing that right now?

Also, it was kind of awesome that Dawn had them doing little "getting to know you" things. It was like having sorority sisters (so she guessed). Well, demon-hunting sisters.

Still, it was kinda cool.

Aug. 25th, 2009

JOY!

First PF Case

It was everything Jo could do not to jump up and down squealing.

They were about to leave on her first case with the Foundation and so far everyone was treating her like she was just another team member.

She pulled out the research on leprechauns for a fourth read. Whatever it wanted, this critter wasn't going to get the drop on her.

Aug. 20th, 2009

Heh Heh

Jo's Voicemail – OOC Post

Got something to say to Jo? Want a word with her typist? Here's the place!

You've reached Jo Harvelle.

Leave me a message and I'll call you back as soon as I can.

And Mom, if this is you – I'm fine. Really.
Tags:

Aug. 18th, 2009

Oh Really?

Well THAT was unexpected...

If you'd asked me this morning what I thought would be would likely to happen today, lunch with Dean Winchester, being a total sweetie to boot, wouldn't have been high on the list.

Of course, neither would be watching the boys run from a pissed off angel on a rampage.

If this is the new normal, I'd better adjust and fast.

Aug. 13th, 2009

So Far From Home

Old Times, Good Times, Awkward Times = Lunchtime!

Jo didn't want to desert the team she'd just joined but Bobby had nodded at her and Faith had mumbled something about needing to find the gym and hit things for a while.

"I guess I'm all yours," Jo said with a shrug.

She hadn't been in L.A. long but she did know there was a hole-in-the-wall diner around the corner from the Foundation's offices.

She gave Dean a rough description. "Sound okay?"

Aug. 4th, 2009

Hmmmm...

This ain't no disco, It ain't no Country Club either…

Friday July 31st – Noon


Jo drummed her fingers against the steering wheel, lost in thought.

She'd seen the place with all the handprints in cement.

She'd taken a few pics of the Hollywood sign.

She'd done some shopping and spent one glorious afternoon at the beach.

Yep – officially out of excuses and distractions.

With a sigh she slid out of the car and headed for the building she'd visited every morning since she'd arrived in L.A.

Never gone in, mind you – but visited.

There were no obvious signs, but the address was clear enough. As she got closer, she smiled at the subtle inclusion of their phoenix design in the design of the door handles. Nice.

The handle was cold beneath her palm.

She could do this.

With a deep breath, she opened the door and walked into the quiet lobby.


(OOC: And so it begins. This will be the last backdated Jo entry – just trying to get her to the Foundation as part of the current meet and greet.)


Aug. 3rd, 2009

Jo Harvelle

Fate and Destiny Walk Into a Bar. Neither Says 'Ouch'.

Sunday July 27th – Midafternoon


Jo struggled to open her eyes. It felt like her lids had been glued shut and she had a terribly sour taste in her mouth.

She had a long, hard stare at an unfamiliar ceiling before realizing where she was. More importantly, she started to remember WHY she felt like crap.

She sat up slowly, clutching at the mattress as the world tilted crazily.

She remembered the Woman in White, the oh-so-charming Cooksey brothers, and an obscene amount of tequila.

Shuffling to the bathroom, she had a faint recollection of the brothers picking up her bar tab. That was fairly decent of them.

Washing her face, an additional detail surfaced – they'd all but threatened the bartender to cut her off. Well, that was less decent. Strike that – they were still jerkwads.

Immediate needs taken care of, she flopped back down on the bed, grabbing her bag to dig for some painkillers.

She came up with a wadded up ball of paper and tossed it aside.

Thank goodness – oh blessed Tylenol.

She kicked back the pills and carefully sipped some more water, trying to keep the pills down by sheer force of will.

Something about that paper…

She remembered, very faintly, the brothers trying to talk her out of hunting at all, listing all sorts of reasons girls weren't cut out for this kind of thing, and most particularly why a girl trying to hunt on her own was sheer folly.

She'd sat there, steam practically coming out her ears, and obviously her expression was none to friendly. They'd given up, but not before slipping her a sheet of paper.

"If anyone needed to join some book club for Hunters, you do. Maybe they can teach you not to get yourself killed."

She hadn't even looked, just wadded it up and stuffed it into her bag.

She looked again at the wadded paper, now on the floor next to her foot. Might was well see what that was all about.

She careful uncrumpled the paper to see a letter, on formal letterhead, addressed to Jake and Rob Cooksey.

She skimmed it quickly and then, not quite believing what she'd read, started through a second time.

Phoenix Foundation?

She glanced at their logo – a bird made of flames. Okay, phoenix indeed.

Her heart was beating faster than she cared to admit. This…foundation…it was some kind of group for hunters.

A group that hadn't invited her, based on the two week old date on the letter.

Maybe they don't have a current address for you.

Or maybe they do…

Jo's stomach was churning and not because of last night's festivities.

What if, just what if, she could talk this group into taking her? She'd do whatever – filing, research, fetching coffee. Even if they wouldn't let her in the field either, maybe she would find a hunter willing to work with her.

She needed a mentor, a trainer, someone.

She read the letter again. Your abilities and special skills have come to our attention through various channels.

Jo sighed. "Abilities and special skills"?

What she needed was a fucking miracle.
What the...?

Every Bit as Think as You Drunk I Am

Monday July 27th – Wee Hours


Drunk.
Soused.
Wasted.
Loaded.
Hammered.
Feeling no pain.
Three sheets to the wind.

Call it what you wanted, but Jo was most of the way there already.

She was furious. This was always happening – other hunters taking her research and ditching her, other hunters muscling her off jobs, other hunters generally treating her like she was exactly what she looked like – a little girl trying to run with the big boys.

But the jobs she'd worked alone – those had gone great. Sure, she could use some training for her fighting skills. But she'd been smart, been careful, and they'd all gone great.

She kicked back a shot, barely wincing at the burn down her throat. She could do this, dammit, if anyone would ever give her half a chance.

If only…

She couldn't even finish the thought. If only what? Her father were still here? Would he even let her hunt, let alone want to hunt with her?

If only her mother wasn't so angry? She knew from one or two poachers on her cases that Mommy Dearest was out there, encouraging other hunters to "keep an eye on her". Jo didn't want to believe her mother had meant forcibly taking her cases, but that's how it was working out.

The waitress arrived with a fresh shot, raising her brow as it took Jo three tries to grip the glass.

Jo didn't care. She kicked this one back too, blinking a little as the bar wobbled sideways for a moment.

"Well, lookee who we have here."

Jo knew she was probably snarling but couldn't be damned to stop as she turned and looked right into the smiling face of Jake Cooksey.

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