Second round - carnival time!

[roadhouse_mama]

Who: Ellen Harvelle & ?
Where: The Carnival, the shooting gallery specifically
When: midday
What: Ellen's having a bit of fun, and bugging a friend - come admire her shooting skills, or critique them?

Comments

[junkyardgrouch]

Now, a man has certain inalienable rights. Chief among them is the right to leave his damn room and not come back to find it filled up with little bean bag animals and creepy face dolls. Some of them weren't fit to burn.

And he knew just who to blame for this violation of his rights. The boys, idjits that they were, knew better. That left just one culprit.

He found her belly up to another shooting game with a pile of stuffed critters in front of her. "Hope ya know, this means war."

[roadhouse_mama]

"About time you showed up. I was wondering if it was going to take sending a carnie up there to get your attention, Bobby." Ellen threw a smile at him over her shoulder as she laid out another three targets.

Of course it meant war. That was the whole point and at least half the fun.

[junkyardgrouch]

Bobby grunted and leaned against the counter, picking up one of the toy guns to take aim at a few of the targets himself. In truth, he wasn't at all concerned about the junk she was piling in his room. The place had an attic for a reason and he was perfectly content to start a bonfire if he really needed to.

It was in his grouch contract to complain, though.

"I find a bearded lady in my room, I'm sendin' her to Dean. Boy ain't even been what you'd call picky."

He can talk to Oscar, his local union rep

[roadhouse_mama]

"Dean's never been picky," she said absently, taking out another target.

"You talked to Sam lately?" Best to start with the general questions, see if he was aware of how bad things were getting for the youngest Winchester. While she didn't want to worry him, they needed to find some way to help Sam. God knows he'd been through more than enough.

Oscar's a putz and he always loses Bobby's forms.

[junkyardgrouch]

"Sam? Can't say I have. This place's rigged in such a way that I don't hardly see anyone for days, 'less I'm making a hell of an effort to find them." He knocked over a few more wooden clowns, then glanced over at Ellen. "Reckon there's a reason why you're askin', so what'd I miss?"

That's what he gets for letting Ernie do the filing.

[roadhouse_mama]

She sets down the air rifle, leaning against the stand. "It doesn't look like the kid's slept more than two, three hours at a shot. He's pale and jumpy as all hell."

"I'm worried about him, Bobby. Something's wrong."

He keeps forgetting Bert's the organized one.

[junkyardgrouch]

Bobby sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. Of course. Soon as one kid starts to come out of his nose-dive, the other one jumps. "Sounds like you might be right. He say anything about what the problem might be?"

Him and Telly. Oddly organized for a purple monster, y'know.

[roadhouse_mama]

It was the nature of the Winchesters. One was okay just in time for the other one to fall to pieces. And Bobby's reaction told her that things weren't exactly all right for any of them.

"You know Sam. 'Nothing's wrong' and 'I'm fine' is the party line, even when he looks spooked. If I didn't know better, I'd say something's haunting him. You been getting wind of any ghosts or any activity we need to be lookin into?"

[junkyardgrouch]

Nothing was ever easy. The most he asked for these days was an absence of something actively trying to destroy them. Passively, he could handle.

"Reports about this place are all over. I've heard a lot about hallucinations, though. The hotel likes to play mind tricks. Made Dean attack one of the other residents once, thinking he was a monster." He turned to face her, hip resting against the shooting counter, arms crossed over his chest. "Also haven't ruled out the possibility of ghosts and such, although I ain't seen much evidence of them apart from one exorcism me and Sam handled."

[roadhouse_mama]

They're hunters. Easy is relative. And usually still awful.

"Mm. Might bear a little looking into. If no one's started seeing things, we'll have to start keeping a closer eye on Sam. He looks like hell."

[junkyardgrouch]

Bobby nodded, putting down the toy gun and turning to Ellen. If Sam was seeing things, they needed to nip the problem in the bud right now, before things got out of hand like it did when the Doctor went bonkers. Sam was just as dangerous when he was out of it, plus Sam was heavily armed.

"Got any idea where the boy might be? Say where he was headed?"

[roadhouse_mama]

"No idea. After he sent that giant unicorn to your room, said he needed some air."

They were both worried. Sam was a hunter in his prime, and one of the best she'd seen since John Winchester first sauntered into her bar all those years ago.

"Might have to split up and cover a little more ground that way."

[junkyardgrouch]

Bobby snorted at the reminder of the unicorn. Sam and him were gonna have words on that one. Just as soon as he figured out what was wrong with the kid. In the meantime, Ellen was right. Time to split up.

"You want grounds or inside?"