[For the Winchester Brothers] Not Doing a Lunatic Dance Yet...

[77th_earl]

Continued from Here Titus tilts his head a bit and rises as Dean stands up. "Your brother knows much about this matter of trouble? He would not think me mad once I described to him these frightening circumstances?" he asks. Considering the kind of hereditary madness that seems to run through the Groan line, it's likely something he's concerned

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[surfaceshine]

Okay, lead or not, that shit needs addressed. Dean is drawn up short when he sees Sam's running gear about to be put to use, features clouding for just a moment.

"Dude, are you stupid?" No, wait, not the time for a fight; and besides, if Dean can distract Sam with talking to Titus, the nimwit can't go A.) Aggravating his injuries by taking a page from Dean's book of physical therapy and B.) right back where the problem started to begin with and C.) Giving Dean another heart attack or three. The hunter flaps a hand, forcibly taking that baby step back from Asshole Mode to Professional Mode again, hoping Sam will let him dismiss it; they can discuss why Sam's running shoes are in the toilet later, after Dean has had a chance to try to flush them

[precognitioning]

Sam, meanwhile, goes for both a notebook and a book, flips the book open and starts writing fast in the notebook, though one eye is still on both Titus and Dean, clearly listening to the answer to this question.

[77th_earl]

"I have been dwelling in that room since this autumn past: I had been dwelling in a dim room on the north side, but a kind girl helped me to move to my present lodgings because my room at the time lacked fresh air, which had made me ill," he replies. "I have been there perhaps some eight or nine months and I have never noticed anything strange there until this night."

[surfaceshine]

Dean glances over at what Sam is doing, but doesn't interrupt Titus. Instead, on the end of the kid's answer, Dean tags a clear aside to his brother - "Anniversary?" - before returning full attention to Titus.

"Was there anything in the room when you moved in? That you kept, I mean? Or did you bring it all with you?"

[precognitioning]

Sam jots that down, and asks, "By the way - where is this, in the house? What floor, what wing..." Because whatever it is, they're going to need to go look at it. And adds, to Dean, "What kind of a night was it, that..."

[77th_earl]

So many questions, but Titus is only too willing to answer them if it helps him to find a cure for this situation. "There was a chair, a desk, a bed and a wardrobe in the room when I arrived. When I was well enough to remove my things from my old room, I brought in the same clothes that I had had in my old room.

"My current room is on the third floor, in the southern wing, and the window faces due south: it is quite well-lit in the daytime and at night as well, if there is a full moon."

[surfaceshine]

Dean, perfectly capable of carrying on two conversations at once as long as one of them is with Sam, flicks one glance to his brother - "Dunno." - then smoothly transitions back to Titus.

"Mind if we take a look? We might see something you didn't notice at the time. What with the aborted stabbing and all."

[precognitioning]

Sam jots something down. "I'll find out," he says, and then sets the notebook aside. "Might be important, who knows." He examines Titus, and after a nod to agree with Dean's suggestion, asks, "Just to be clear - nothing like this has happened to you before?"

[77th_earl]

"Nay, I do not mind in the least: the more pairs of eyes to examine this, the better," he says, stepping aside and lifting the latch on the door. "But, no, this has not happened to me before: there were no demons nor spirits nor gods nor angels in Gormenghast, and so I have had no experience with anything of this nature."

[surfaceshine]

Dean lets Sam take point on the questioning for now, focusing instead on carefully levering himself back to his feet. He never stops smirking, but it's a more laborious task recently than it has been most of his life, and he only tunes back into the conversation once he's ready to start walking forward.

"Lead the way, kiddo." Dean prompts, reaching to take over holding the door open so the trio can pass into the hallway.

[precognitioning]

He was mostly making sure you weren't mental, Titus. Or that something followed you here, that is true. On the other hand...for the moment, he'll put the notebook down and stand up himself. "I think that's it, without seeing the room itself. We should...do that."

Another one of those slightly odd glances at Dean.

[77th_earl]

"Very well, if you gentlemen will follow me," he say, stepping through the door and beckoning them to follow him. He'll lead the way down the hallway and around a corner, then down another hallway, leading to his room. He'll open the door and step aside to let them enter first.

The room within is comfortable, but not lavish, and a bit untidy in a lived-in way. A few clothes hap-hazardly draped over a chest and a pair of riding boots dumped over under the bed. There are a few books scattered on the desk, as well as an ink-splattered sheet of paper. A quill pen is lying on the floor where he dropped it, and the chair is tipped over.

[surfaceshine]

Dean flips a hand idly at Sam's glance, and tails the two of them down the hall. When he slips past Titus and into the room, the change is immediate, and most akin to some kind of hound searching a field for a scent trail; if he had mobile ears they'd be perked up and focused forward, his eyes bright and intent, and he is actually sniffing the air - though subtly. He moves forward and mentally separates the room into a grid, and begins poking around opposite Sam.

Since the typists already know what actually happened, it's safe to say there's nothing to find; no sulfur in the air, no marks on the walls or floor, no hexbags hidden behind a book or under the bed. Dean does his best to turn the room upside down, though, putting things back where he finds them for the most part unless or until Titus protests. Dean has never been the one with finesse.

If Titus doesn't stop him, though, he'll end up standing next to the discarded quill, wishing he could crouch down to examine it, and looking for the knife that had been mentioned

[precognitioning]

Sam follows Dean into the room and does his own poking around, wondering if he should be able to - he doesn't know, sense something or something. For the moment, though, relying on his eyes, and catching nothing out of the ordinary. Eventually, he straightens and follows Dean's eyes to the quill.

"Where's the knife you were talking about?" he asks, voicing that particular thought. "The one that tried to stab you?"

Erasing previous candidates in his mind and trying to sort through potential new ones, but of course it could be something entirely new they've never seen before, that's always a possibility.

[77th_earl]

He looks down beside the desk. "It has fallen down behind the far side of the desk. It is here on the floor," he says, pointing to the knife, as it lies on the carpet beside the desk.

[surfaceshine]

Dean raises both eyebrows and bends to look where Titus is pointing; his eyebrows frown a bit, then, and he sighs softly. Crap. Instead of being able to just crouch down and go at it, Dean lowers himself stiffly to one knee and shakes the sleeve of his henley down over his hand so he can reach to pick up the knife without touching it to his skin. He just stays where he is on the floor while holding it so both he and Sam can look at it, turning it to try and figure out what kind of metal it is, if there's anything unusual about it, before his eyes trail back to bounce between the floor where it ended up and the desk it came off of.