[closed/active] I wanna go to the late night double feature picture show
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.
( And I really got hot when I saw Janet Scott Fight a Triffid that spits poison and kills )
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.
( And I really got hot when I saw Janet Scott Fight a Triffid that spits poison and kills )
[Said clown advanced, slowly and methodically. Dean's shots jerk it back, but it keeps moving forward. It reaches for Clare with a smile.]
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Yeah, clowns didn't normally freak her out. Clowns with extra long fingernails, smiling in the dark slowly advancing on her shrugging off bullets? That did scare her pretty well. Sam's screaming like a girl, stifled or not, wasn't very helpful.
At least Dean was honest about the numbers.
Clare's eyes went wide as the clown decided to reach for her. She stumbled away from it and put her hand out, wanting the thing to go away. She just really wanted him to just go away. Apparently that was the right thought process, as three ice spikes formed between her and the clown. She wasn't sure how she managed that, but it wasn't unwanted. She also stifled an unmanly scream, but it wasn't as embarrassing for Clare as it was for Sam.
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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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[one of the ice spikes catches the clown in the gut, and it doubles over in shock. A couple of the rounds seem to be more effective than the others, burning holes in the clown's flesh as they hit.]
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She needed to calm down, think things through. Monster movies are fiction, while fiction and fact seemed to be a blurry differentiation here there had to be other options for the situation. The ice worked, at least annoyed it, and... Clare narrowed her eyes at the burning around some of the bullet holes.
If she was right, this might even things out. If she's wrong she'd be rushing headlong into a killer movie monster barely armed and barely trained.
Clare rushed forward and put her steel knuckle duster into the gut wound her ice caused. If she was right this would be super effective.
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But he barely got his finger off the trigger when she darted out in front of them, jerking the gun up so that he wouldn't fire and hit her accidentally. "Clare!" he shouted, reaching out to pull her back, trusting Dean to have reacted the same way.
He noticed the wounds as well, tallying it up with a soft curse. "Faerie!" he called to Dean. The knives were steel, but it was going to be up to Dean. With Clare and his own gun, Sam's hands were full.
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"Faerie? We got creepy clown Tink going on?" He shook his head, before grabbing out a steel knife to slash and stab at the clown.
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[The knife catches the clown in the arm, parting skin and flesh like butter while Clare's blow sends it doubling over further in pain. The clown shrieks, a raspy insectile sound, and it reaches out with its good arm at Dean to knock away the knife]
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Clare glared up at Sam, maybe running between the people with the guns and the target was stupid, but she had a pretty effective anti-fae weapon, "Not all of your bullets have enough iron to hurt him." She figured her being young was why she was being dragged away from the fight, but this was a fae. Of the things they could face out here she actually had the confidence to face on level ground. Fae were one of the few things she'd had multiple confrontations with and she was generally on the winning side each time.
Clare pulled forward, drawing from that thrum of power she knew was her ring. She hoped Sam would let go and not fight her on this, otherwise she might hurt him using more strength than her tiny frame should muster. She just had to get one clean blow to the Clown's face and they should be all good. That huge red nose was a huge red target, an easy thing to just go for.
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Sam watched Dean, letting Clare go so that he could get his gun holstered again. "Do NOT run between people firing and the target," he said, pulling his own knife. "They weren't hurting the fae enough, but they could have killed you."
Now that the guns were out of the way, though, Sam wasn't going to stop her from attacking. He was, however, going to use his own knife to take out the fae's good arm.
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[All three blows connect, and the clown crumples, shrieking its angry insectile shriek as its legs no longer manage to support its weight. The illusion of the clown melts away slowly to reveal a strangely formeless creature, and within minutes even that disappears, melting into ectoplasm that will soon evaporate.]
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He rubbed his hand over his face, then turned back to Clare. "When people are shooting, you do NOT run out in front of them," he told Clare again. "If Dean and I had been paying less attention, you could have been dead. Or, at least, severely injured. It would have taken you two seconds to warn us that you were moving. The longer reaction time you can give us, the better chance you have of everybody staying alive."
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