[Relief! He's more than a bit thrilled to have that gun out of his face, and to celebrate, he picks up his tumbler and takes a drink. It's terrible, really, god awful- he hates the stuff- but at this point he's willing to suffer if the end result is forgetting things for a while.
He huffs out a laugh, and if it sounds a bit bitter, well... It's because he's bitter.]
You could say that he fits that description.
[Lucifer considers his demons to be cannon fodder; that's almost like heavy artillery, right? They'd come here on information Dean'd managed to beat out of one of those demons... But Cas is not-so-privately of the opinion that it's a trap of some kind, since they'd also heard from one of Bobby's old contacts in the area of Lucifer's presence here. It'd seemed like too much of a coincidence, but naturally Dean'd insisted on charging in, and so here they are.
He pauses, considering leaving it at that, but decides hey, fuck it, he may as well ask since they're getting all chummy.]
Seen anyone strange here lately? Other than me, of course.
"Strange?" She couldn't tell if the man was serious of trying to make a fool of her. Anything that wasn't strange she could probably count on one finger. Although, to be fair, 'strange' had taken on a whole new definition given the current state of affairs. She sighs and swivels to face the bar. "Aside from you and about a million walkers, no. Nobody strange." Suddenly it dawned on her - he had mentioned he was with a group, yet here he was on his own. Her eyes narrowed slightly, sensing a possible trap. "Where are your people?" Her own weren't too far away, but one could never be too careful.
[He's dead serious, unfortunately. He imagines that things around here would have taken a turn for the stranger than usual if Lucifer and his entourage had rolled through town... He's actually a bit relieved to hear that he's the weirdest thing to hit this place other than the walkers.
...'Walkers'. That really tickles him for some reason. He's heard them called by quite a few names since they'd left camp, but 'walker' has to be his favourite. It's so fitting, might even be more fitting than "croate".
He takes another drink and sets his glass down on the bar, rolling it absently. Honestly, he isn't really sure where Dean and the others had gone. Probably to that pharmacy they'd seen down the road a bit, maybe one or two of the other stores, who knows?]
They're around here somewhere. [Noting her suspicious tone, he adds:] You have nothing to worry about. We're not like some of the groups we've run into out here. We're just passing through, raping and pillaging isn't our style.
[Well, maybe minor pillaging of the booze-nabbing variety. But he's willing to put some of that back, if only because he doesn't want to get shot to death in this shitty little town over liquor. Pills, maybe, but not liquor.]
He huffs out a laugh, and if it sounds a bit bitter, well... It's because he's bitter.]
You could say that he fits that description.
[Lucifer considers his demons to be cannon fodder; that's almost like heavy artillery, right? They'd come here on information Dean'd managed to beat out of one of those demons... But Cas is not-so-privately of the opinion that it's a trap of some kind, since they'd also heard from one of Bobby's old contacts in the area of Lucifer's presence here. It'd seemed like too much of a coincidence, but naturally Dean'd insisted on charging in, and so here they are.
He pauses, considering leaving it at that, but decides hey, fuck it, he may as well ask since they're getting all chummy.]
Seen anyone strange here lately? Other than me, of course.
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[He's dead serious, unfortunately. He imagines that things around here would have taken a turn for the stranger than usual if Lucifer and his entourage had rolled through town... He's actually a bit relieved to hear that he's the weirdest thing to hit this place other than the walkers.
...'Walkers'. That really tickles him for some reason. He's heard them called by quite a few names since they'd left camp, but 'walker' has to be his favourite. It's so fitting, might even be more fitting than "croate".
He takes another drink and sets his glass down on the bar, rolling it absently. Honestly, he isn't really sure where Dean and the others had gone. Probably to that pharmacy they'd seen down the road a bit, maybe one or two of the other stores, who knows?]
They're around here somewhere. [Noting her suspicious tone, he adds:] You have nothing to worry about. We're not like some of the groups we've run into out here. We're just passing through, raping and pillaging isn't our style.
[Well, maybe minor pillaging of the booze-nabbing variety. But he's willing to put some of that back, if only because he doesn't want to get shot to death in this shitty little town over liquor. Pills, maybe, but not liquor.]
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