Characters: Anyone interested in random monster slaying/acts of violence
Location: Blackstone Hotel, Hard Rock Hotel (PLEASE SPECIFY)
Content: Random action. Monster Slaying. Violence. No plot.
Format: Poster's Choice, NPCs will be commentspam for time
Warnings: Violence. And probably more to come.
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And I really got hot when I saw Janet Scott Fight a Triffid that spits poison and kills )
Then the lights went out with a weird flare of green, and he scowled before grabbing his nearby weapons to investigate.
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Really, their dad had been better than the Boy Scouts about being prepared.
"Clare," Sam said in greeting, tapping Dean's side with the second flashlight so that he could take it. "Good question. Generator cut out?"
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"Freaky ass light, and lost power. Can't be good whatever the hell it is." He flicked the light on, and moved the beam around for a better look.
"Thought I heard something scratching."
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Sam had his flashlight up by his shoulder, making it easier to use as a club if necessary. Or shine in someone's eyes. He drew in a sharp breath as the light caught the large, red shoe and red hair.
"Hey, Dean?" he asked, letting the breath out slowly. "You know how sometimes, you see something and it jogs a memory? And suddenly, you know something you didn't realize before."
He left it a moment before adding, "I just remembered I'm afraid of clowns."
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Wasn't that wonderful?
"Extremely cold? Why?"
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"Yeah, well, it's not my fault how I remember things," Sam shot back, unnerved. None of this was designed to make them feel good. He could accept that. The horror movie atmosphere left something to be desired.
Sam glanced at Clare, then at Dean. "Umm. Well. Not that often." Unless they could appear and disappear at will. That sort of put a damper on things. But one of them was going to have to look, now that Clare had brought it up. Steeling himself, Sam turned, gun in hand--
And promptly scrambled back, out of the killer clown's reach, stifling what could have been a very unmanly scream.
Like Dean was going to let him live down any of this.
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"The ending sucked!" he yelled before firing right at the clown.
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"Do you remember how they got rid of him in the movie?" Because Sam was pretty sure he hadn't actually watched it. Or read the book. Ugh, clowns.
He brought up his own gun, squeezing off a couple of shot as well.
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Dean aimed for the head, and fired a few more rounds.
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