[015] Video

[to_rebel]

[Because everyone needs a tribble post. Also, action for anyone near willing lend a hand.]

[The video feeds comes on, only to immediately be darkened by a mass of dark-brown fur. It's with an impatient move that the fluff-lump is brushed away and the Underworld is treated to an angel stalwartly ignoring the cooing and trilling while he tries --

Comments

[Goes right to Action.]

[i_shot_a_dick]

[Even that soothing tribble noise couldn't stop the pain or guilt he felt at seeing his mother. He'd made sure to get down to the docks, give her what information he could and get her in to an available house, he errantly wondered if Anna would want a room mate, he didn't want Mary on her own, even if she may not want his help.

When he walked back in the door all Dean could think was he wanted a beer and to sit down, he wasn't physically tired, but mentally, tribble noise and all he felt drained.

The sound of so many tribbles in the house though did sort of break the haze and when he heard Castiel from the kitchen Dean walked in and cocked his head.]

You got furry things in unwanted places, Cas?

[Action.]

[to_rebel]

[Not understanding half of Dean says is sometimes a blessing in a very thin disguise, he's discovered. That particular phrase probably carried with it innuendo he didn't want to contemplate.

In answer, Castiel straightens from where he'd been picking up pieces of coffeepot and wordlessly puts those pieces on... well, the tribble-covered counter.

... It can't be wrong to stab the perpetrators with the pieces of coffeepot that they broke, can it?]

[Action.]

[i_shot_a_dick]

[Like flapjacks smothered in maple syrup was how covered in innuendo that particular comment had been. The tribbles were cracking through his 'gloom' now that he was surrounded so completely by them and he stared at the angel for a moment as he began to 'violate' the cute little things.]

Hey, you're stabbin' 'em, chill out.

[Dean walked over and cleared a space for the broken coffee pot to go, his head cocked to the side as he realized what it was, a tribble purring happily in his hand.]

Dude, we need a better coffee pot.

[Action.]

[to_rebel]

[It wasn't serious stabbing, Dean. It was just... making his displeasure over the coffeepot known. He reaches out and plucks the tribble from Dean's hand before the human -- or the angel, for that matter -- could succumb to the cooing trills.]

We need these things out of here.

[roadhouse_mama]

[Have a harried, and very angry bar owner. Ellen is standing damn near knee-deep in balls of fur in the Roadhouse kitchen. She is clearly furious, as they've eaten everything that could possibly be consumed in the entire establishment. Food, condiments, even the goddamn salt and limes.]

No. But let me know if you figure somethin' out Cas. The damn things are going to stack to the ceiling at this rate.

[The tribbles are wrecking her bar. Her bar. Sharktopi were bad enough. These? They were worse because they shed. They shed all over everything.]

[to_rebel]

[He understands that anger completely. He sets a few broken pieces of glass in the sink -- after shoveling handfuls of the things out of said sink -- and turns back toward the video.]

Short of expending energy on something that most likely would not work, I find myself scrambling to keep up with them.

[Mass teleportation certainly is looking more and more like an option, though.]

[roadhouse_mama]

[She wades through the tribbles and nearly faceplants into a pile of them. They might be soothing to some, but their trilling is just rankling her nerves as it gets louder. Swearing colorfully, she rights herself by hanging on to a barstool.]

I'm a might bit tempted to call Crowley to see if he's got a flame thrower. There's hair everywhere.

[Yes, she knows then the bar would smell like burnt hair, but she's desperate.]

I think they stop breeding once the food runs out.

[to_rebel]

[The sound is definitely somewhat soothing; what they are doing is beyond irritating.]

And what do those here who need food do then?

[dontmissokay]

[Crowley is hanging a "Closed for Renovations" sign on his pawn shop door. Work has now slowed to a standstill due to the facts that (a) tribbles keep getting in the damn way and (b) some of his building supplies are (rather, were) apparently edible. At least the wall-to-wall carpet of tribbles is hiding the sharktopi bloodstains.]

Wish I knew what to tell you, mate. I'm throwing in the towel over here until someone comes up with something.

[The King of the Crossroads, defeated by a legion of furry, purring hackey sacks. Thank god Alastair and Azazel can't see him now. He'd never hear the end of it.]

[to_rebel]

[He actually has some sympathy for you, Crowley. Some. It's marginal.]

I'll let you know.

[dontmissokay]

Want I should bring the leaf blower by? Or the wheelbarrow?

[He's not offering the wood chipper. He fancies the angel might just be more likely to actually use it than he would.]

[to_rebel]

[Sadly, the angel just might.]

I have shovels.

||Audio||

[wutaiwarhero]

[It's almost like he's oblivious to them being harmful at all.] You're judging them very harshly, Castiel.

||Audio||

[to_rebel]

They have overrun my house. [By which he means kitchen.]

||Audio||

[wutaiwarhero]

Then perhaps they're hungry.

||Audio||

[to_rebel]

There is nothing left to eat here.

|| Video ||

[doesnotbrood]

Have you tried a poison?

|| Video ||

[to_rebel]

I have no desire to kill them. [Yet.]

|| Video ||

[doesnotbrood]

Is that not the best course with infestations?

|| Video ||

[to_rebel]

It is valid, but there are other concerns. [Anna would kill him, for one. Dean would also be less than happy.]