Night 47: Main Hallway, 2-Center
[from here]It was times like this he had to wonder if he was the only damn person in this place who still cared about finding the fastest way home possible. Which probably wasn't true, but hell. Seeing as the only people he'd worked with so far had 'stealing books' as a goal or were setting up training nights, it was no damn wonder he was feeling
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"Batteries are good."
Dean sure was easy to soften up. Ruby gave him a sly smile, wondering if she should have started working on him like this at the beginning, over a year ago. Maybe it would have been a little easier if she had.
Oh well. Hindsight was 20/20, and Sam had always been the priority here, not Dean. Getting chummy with Dean made life more bearable, yeah, but whether or not he liked her didn't matter very much beyond that. By Ruby's time, at least, Dean had played his part. He'd taken Alastair's offer.
And that was that.
When Sam offered his knife, Ruby allowed herself to look appropriately shocked and grateful. "Seriously? You okay giving me this?" She took the weapon, handling it expertly. That, at least, she didn't have to fake. It felt good to have a knife back in her hands, even if it wasn't the knife. It wasn't nearly as heavy as what she was used to, but it would work just fine. "Thanks. I mean, really. Thank you ( ... )
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When the young woman in this small group of people paused, Anthy stirred. From her place at the center of the halls, she could observe anyone who lingered instead of deciding to pass through quickly. The swords clanged and creaked about her frame, metal bustling against metal as she writhed in the air.
The pause was just long enough for a few to dislodge, stained with blood at the tips, and zoom forward to make a bid for the young woman standing nearby. Exactly three swords rushed down on her, their aim just slightly off to keep from potentially making fatal stabs, but zipping fast in the dark.
Deep gashes in any limb they could reach to start with would be ideal.
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Flying swords? That was a different game, all the way on the never saw that one coming end of the scale, and considering everything he'd seen in his life, that was a pretty impressive place on the spectrum to occupy. Seemed to be happening a lot.
Sam was one step behind Ruby when the flash of movement came at them, didn't have time to process anything in particular, just thought, What the hell?, and reached out instinctively to yank her back.
"Ruby!" Even with his hand on her arm, he was already tracking across the hallway, trying to-spirit, maybe, had to be, except it was impossible to tell. It clearly wasn't corporeal suspended like that, not like the creature from last night, and that essentially scratched off kill it as an option, and shit, either way, they really didn't have time for this crap. Didn't have time, didn't have...anything. Dean was ( ... )
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What the hell? seemed to be a running theme here and seeing what looked like a chick strung up on a crapload of swords wasn't exactly every day, even for their gig. He would've been tempted to at least help her down - no way she'd be alive - except she was moving (not in that "I could be dying" kinda way) and that dumped her right outta the unfortunate bastard category and into the threat one. Dean felt something slicing through the darkness, whistling, an impression of a weight that he was willing to bet were those damn swords ( ... )
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Sure, salt and iron and holy water all burned like a bitch, but actual physical pain? That wasn't part of the demonic job description. It's hard to feel pain when you spend your time as an incorporeal column of vaguely threatening black smoke. What the meatsuit felt was inconsequential. A demon could be literally blown apart and keep coming.
So when the ghost (or whatever it was) aimed the swords her way, Ruby wasn't terribly worried. Seriously weirded out, yes, but not worried.
At least not until the first sword hit.
Sam pulling her back probably saved her arms from worse injury than they got, but it still stung. The swords sliced along her shoulder and her forearms. The cuts weren't as deep as they could have been, but they still hurtIt was nothing compared to the leg. Another sword aimed lower, slashing her across her thigh. This one was deeper, and Ruby didn't really know that she was prepared to handle the pain. It didn't feel like being tortured by ( ... )
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Tonight it was the other way around. It was her turn to show the world how deep her hatred could run. The swords that had sliced through Ruby's skin clanged uselessly to the floor as soon as they managed to spill blood. Seven more dislodged from Anthy's frame ( ... )
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Ducking and rolling with someone leaning on you, though? Yeah, that wasn't about to happen, not without some serious tangled limbs. He turned and dropped down low enough to keep from cutting his thigh right open, catching blade instead just above his hip. Another sliced across his arm. Sticky warmth spilled with a flash of white-hot.
Shit, and where was Dean?
He cast a quick glance back, but anymore than that, he couldn't afford. At this point, they just had to keep moving.
"Dean!" he snapped instead, hoping he'd hear back from his brother, something that wasn't a yell or dead silence. He hauled Ruby forward. Dammit, this was a weird role reversal because he ( ... )
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That was probably the only thing that saved him from getting his friggen arm run right through. A sword came flashing outta the darkness and thunked right into the wall, so close to his arm that if he leaned the wrong way even a little, he came right up against the blade. Dean tried to move his arm but it'd gone right through his jacket and was in there real good. Hurriedly trying to reach around, he couldn't get a good grip on the hilt from this angle. He grunted out a "I'm fine!" to Sam as he unsheathed his bowie knife. Wasn't exactly keen on the idea about cutting his jacket to pieces but if it was between him breathing and his jacket getting trashed, then the jacket was gonna be the one to go ( ... )
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Dean kept his distance from the other two and moved on quickly, as soon as he was free. The other two were slouching along, so she focused on them -- if one of the three escaped, she did not mind. If he was in any way associated with the other patients, then he might very well run on back.
A sword came swiping past Ruby's cheek directly after she spoke, almost close enough to nick her face without quite touching it. A taunt or a retort, perhaps. The blades that had clattered to the floor all rose at once and made to encircle the slow moving targets, hissing out furious human whispers as they moved to gather together and close off escape, sharp ends pointing in.
There was an opening, but Ruby and Sam would have to be quick.
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With all the action and distractions with, you know, deadly projectiles, he hadn't caught it at first, but he could hear it now. Whispering, quiet but audible, and almost snakelike, and he thought: Great, it comes with sound effects.
A scrape along the floor as the swords started to shudder upright. He hesitated for a split second, searching frantically for an option that wouldn't get them skewered in ten different places, and he didn't hesitate when he spotted their only shot. A gap, maybe not even large enough, but they'd live, and that was all he'd ask for.
He pushed Ruby ahead as much as he could while still supporting her, moving fast and hoping to hell that Dean would be right behind them.
[assuming it's cool for us to escape? D: moving here, if so.]
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