Sam lay there for a second, surprised how easy it had been to have the wind knocked out of him after the thrill of invulnerability he'd felt not very long ago, facing Alastair down. His head was roaring, and he had a momentary vision of the demonic blood pounding through his veins literally screaming its way through his temples.
The roaring sound, however, changed into something more recognizable as his head got to sorting itself back out, and he realized it for what it was: wind. Just wind. No howling echo of the damned or whatever he'd been idiotic enough to think for the moment. No. Just wind.
A moment later it hit him like a truck: why was there wind? Inside? That couldn't be right.
His eyes opened, and it took another moment to resolve what he was looking at, as he stared up at the tips of snow drenched trees scraping against the inked night sky. They looked almost like skeletal fingers, pointing upwards, accusatory.
No, he corrected himself, Trees, Sam. Get it together. Pulling himself to a sitting position, he
( ... )
Sam's lip curled involuntarily when Damon said we, for a plethora of reasons. But his mentions of a 'boss' and the revelation that whoever said boss was had trapped the other here, just as much as Sam, caught his interest. Though it was hardly surprising that anyone who would be after Sam wouldn't exactly value the life of their subhuman underlings either.
So maybe even if this guy wasn't a demon, he was working for one.
That made a certain kind of twisted sense. But why had they brought him here to kill him instead of just doing it on the spot?
Sam's mind raced against that question. Maybe, just maybe, they'd wanted Sam to take this guy out, for some reason. Or maybe they needed him, alive, and this part was just a test.
He felt a bit like a labrat, and he wasn't a fan of the feeling.
"So where does that leave us?" he asked plainly, not in the mood to entertain any of the banter Damon seemed so determined to draw out of him.
Oh, this was going to be too much fun. Damon couldn't help the genuinely bemused smile that worked onto his lips at the begrudging use of 'us' as a personal pronoun of choice. Katherine, it was clear, had rubbed off on him and he'd taken a leaf out of her book in the past hundred and forty years. There was a game to be played with Sam Winchester, and he was just interesting enough to get Damon involved in it.
"That," he taunted, taking a step closer and no longer circling like a vulture. Instead, he offered a hand, choosing to use his right hand in the gesture of an olive branch that was the handshake and avoid displaying the gaudy, day-walking ring that he bore on his left. "Makes me your best and most trusted friend in this little wood of ours." The smile twitched up into a smirk.
"It's Damon, by the way, let's try to avoid making up names like you made up monsters, hmm?" He wondered faintly if the introduction was even worth it at this point -- like it would get Sam to return the favor. Now that he'd pretended he already
( ... )
Sam stared at the hand with a mixture of uncertainty, revulsion, and defiance written across his features. Emotional subtlety was never really his strong suit. Taking it seemed a little too symbolic for his tastes, so he fought against the weird instinct that he was being rude to not take the extended hand of a monster, and just brought his eyes back up to Damon's.
At least he had a name now.
He was tempted to add that Rougarous were real, but decided to save himself the embarrassment of the inevitable snappy comeback from Damon.
Why did everybody he ever hung out with love spending three quarters of their time snarking at him?
Not that he was making plans to start pal-ling around with this guy, but his options for company right now were sort of severely limited, as Damon himself had so kindly pointed out.
"Yeah, fine. Damon," he said brusquely, spelling out clearly through his short tone that this was not an invitation to be his bestie. "I meant where do we go?"
The corners of his smirk twitched with annoyance when he realized Sam wasn't going to grab his hand, but he kept the ambivalent, jovial tone to his voice as he dropped his hand away and rolled his eyes like he was wordlessly calling Sam ridiculous for thinking he'd bite or something.
"Well, first, we might want to find you some manners." The exaggerated scoff in his voice made it clear he could honestly care less if Sam were comfortable shaking his hand or not, but it was worth it to pretend to be butthurt about it. It was all about maintaining appearances, and this particular appearance helped him seem like he cared about the fact that he had no idea where they were a whole lot less.
"Other than that, though, I'd say pick a direction and start walking, Big Guy."
Oh no. No way. Sam was not going on some kind of wilderness hike with a not-demon-but-not-human-either thing. Why did these things always happen to him?
Other than, you know, the whole Antichrist thing.
"Fine," he repeated. "But you'd better pick a different one." His Clint Eastwood routine was probably not overly convincing, but he still tried, and banked on carrying over some intimidation factor from the whole telekinetic throwdown still.
Without waiting for a snarky response, he turned on his heel decisively, as if he knew right where he was going, which was a total lie, and started marching. Away from this guy seemed like a solid direction for now, at least.
"Those are some really weird names," Toph commented blithely from where she'd gotten herself comfortable on the very convenient rock stool that she'd set up for herself once it became clear she'd be stuck here a while.
So yes, Sam. There was a random, tiny, blind girl judging you and your friends. What are you going to do now?
OK HERE I AM :C if you still want me ;___; /turtlechanstearsandtildesSeptember 24 2010, 23:09:39 UTC
Sam was not in the best of moods after his encounter with Damon, and he'd been hoping there was a chance he could still find somebody he recognized. Preferably somebody who wasn't trying to kill him, at least.
This girl definitely looked less homicidal, but if there was anything Sam had learned over the course of his life, it was that looks could be six shades of deceiving. She at least wasn't emanating waves of dangerous supernatural juju, which was a nice change of pace, but his posture was still cautious as he turned towards her.
"I don't suppose you've run into anyone with them, then."
"Nope," she said with a shrug before hocking a good sized loogie off to the side. "Then again, I haven't met all of the spirit-dunderheads around here, so."
Yes, quite the charming little thing, isn't she. She shakes her head at everyone being so darn twitchy around here before leaning back with a sigh. Her eyes are still on the treetops when she talks next.
"It's Sam," he said, and he couldn't help but take note that she seemed genuinely not to recognize him, which meant she probably wasn't involved in whatever twisted scheme had brought him here, unlike Damon.
"Who are you? How'd you get here?" He had a million other questions too, but decided to stick to those for now.
She snorted in amusement, as if that's the most ridiculous name she's heard. Mostly because it is. ...At least in the last five minutes, anyway.
"'Sam'? What the heck kind of stupid name is that?" She raised her head to smirk in his general direction before flopping back again. "Toph. And if I knew how'd I'd gotten here, do you think I'd be sitting here talking to some silly-named giant guy?" She shrugged before popping her hands behind her head. "I'm still thinking it's spirit world shenanigans, but hey. What do I know."
Wait, so Sam was a ridiculous name, but Toph was the picture of normality?
"Where exactly are you from?" he revised his question, thinking maybe that would give him a clearer idea of who or what he was dealing with here. She seemed like a child for all intents and purposes. "Wait a minute, spirit world? What gives you that idea?"
Yes, Sam. That's it exactly. Glad to know everyone's on the same page about this.
"I'm from the Earth Kingdom." She cut back on the duh factor since she knew she's all incognito in her Fire Nation outfit, but it crept back in eventually. Was everyone around here just totally living under a rock when it came to spirits?
"Yeah, the spirit world? That whole other place where all the spirit stuff happens?" If her tone was anything to go by, Sam was apparently the child here. The developmentally challenged, retarded child with rocks up his nose. ...Yeah, the duh factor's gotten ramped up a notch or three. "I don't know all the technical mumbo jumbo about it, but yeah. And I got that idea 'cause spirits have that nasty habit of picking up people out of nowhere? Heck, I was looking for a friend of mine that probably got abducted by spirits before I got here, so."
Ok, where he was from, most people tended to refer to Earth as less of a kingdom, and more of a planet, so he couldn't help but raise an eyebrow skeptically at her response. He caught the contempt loud and clear, and folded both arms across his chest defensively. Being picked on by a kid was a step down even from having to deal with Damon's snarky retorts and death threats.
"What kind of spirits?" he pressed, since she seemed just so well versed in this kind of thing.
i miss having edit functions. :<w2g_twinkletoesSeptember 28 2010, 03:34:27 UTC
I bet he just all the gold stars in class ever.
Toph groaned in annoyance before sitting back up, elbows on her knees as she cast a thoroughly condescending look... A few feet to Sam's left. "Look, Giraffelope, I just said I don't know the technical mumbo jumbo when it comes to this stuff! What are you, deaf or something? Jeez..."
Just because she hung around with the Avatar didn't mean she got any crash courses in the spirit world. Not that she wanted to, anyway - spirits never helped anything, not in her experience.
Basic accounts are in league with Satan, pretty sure.tearsandtildesSeptember 30 2010, 00:36:19 UTC
Touchy little thing.
"Ok, ok," he said hastily, trying to quell her irritation. "I just thought I'd ask. Most people don't usually jump to 'spirit world' as a conclusion when they wake up somewhere unexpected, so I thought you might have a good reason for saying that." He figured the slight jab might get her to confess her reasoning at least. "I mean, you said you had a friend who you thought was abducted...?" Fishing for any information he could get was probably the best course of action for now. She might not have been pleasant, but it was a step up from talking to Damon.
The roaring sound, however, changed into something more recognizable as his head got to sorting itself back out, and he realized it for what it was: wind. Just wind. No howling echo of the damned or whatever he'd been idiotic enough to think for the moment. No. Just wind.
A moment later it hit him like a truck: why was there wind? Inside? That couldn't be right.
His eyes opened, and it took another moment to resolve what he was looking at, as he stared up at the tips of snow drenched trees scraping against the inked night sky. They looked almost like skeletal fingers, pointing upwards, accusatory.
No, he corrected himself, Trees, Sam. Get it together. Pulling himself to a sitting position, he ( ... )
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So maybe even if this guy wasn't a demon, he was working for one.
That made a certain kind of twisted sense. But why had they brought him here to kill him instead of just doing it on the spot?
Sam's mind raced against that question. Maybe, just maybe, they'd wanted Sam to take this guy out, for some reason. Or maybe they needed him, alive, and this part was just a test.
He felt a bit like a labrat, and he wasn't a fan of the feeling.
"So where does that leave us?" he asked plainly, not in the mood to entertain any of the banter Damon seemed so determined to draw out of him.
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"That," he taunted, taking a step closer and no longer circling like a vulture. Instead, he offered a hand, choosing to use his right hand in the gesture of an olive branch that was the handshake and avoid displaying the gaudy, day-walking ring that he bore on his left. "Makes me your best and most trusted friend in this little wood of ours." The smile twitched up into a smirk.
"It's Damon, by the way, let's try to avoid making up names like you made up monsters, hmm?" He wondered faintly if the introduction was even worth it at this point -- like it would get Sam to return the favor. Now that he'd pretended he already ( ... )
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At least he had a name now.
He was tempted to add that Rougarous were real, but decided to save himself the embarrassment of the inevitable snappy comeback from Damon.
Why did everybody he ever hung out with love spending three quarters of their time snarking at him?
Not that he was making plans to start pal-ling around with this guy, but his options for company right now were sort of severely limited, as Damon himself had so kindly pointed out.
"Yeah, fine. Damon," he said brusquely, spelling out clearly through his short tone that this was not an invitation to be his bestie. "I meant where do we go?"
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"Well, first, we might want to find you some manners." The exaggerated scoff in his voice made it clear he could honestly care less if Sam were comfortable shaking his hand or not, but it was worth it to pretend to be butthurt about it. It was all about maintaining appearances, and this particular appearance helped him seem like he cared about the fact that he had no idea where they were a whole lot less.
"Other than that, though, I'd say pick a direction and start walking, Big Guy."
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Other than, you know, the whole Antichrist thing.
"Fine," he repeated. "But you'd better pick a different one." His Clint Eastwood routine was probably not overly convincing, but he still tried, and banked on carrying over some intimidation factor from the whole telekinetic throwdown still.
Without waiting for a snarky response, he turned on his heel decisively, as if he knew right where he was going, which was a total lie, and started marching. Away from this guy seemed like a solid direction for now, at least.
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So yes, Sam. There was a random, tiny, blind girl judging you and your friends. What are you going to do now?
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This girl definitely looked less homicidal, but if there was anything Sam had learned over the course of his life, it was that looks could be six shades of deceiving. She at least wasn't emanating waves of dangerous supernatural juju, which was a nice change of pace, but his posture was still cautious as he turned towards her.
"I don't suppose you've run into anyone with them, then."
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Yes, quite the charming little thing, isn't she. She shakes her head at everyone being so darn twitchy around here before leaning back with a sigh. Her eyes are still on the treetops when she talks next.
"How about you, Jumbo? You got a name or what."
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"Who are you? How'd you get here?" He had a million other questions too, but decided to stick to those for now.
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"'Sam'? What the heck kind of stupid name is that?" She raised her head to smirk in his general direction before flopping back again. "Toph. And if I knew how'd I'd gotten here, do you think I'd be sitting here talking to some silly-named giant guy?" She shrugged before popping her hands behind her head. "I'm still thinking it's spirit world shenanigans, but hey. What do I know."
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"Where exactly are you from?" he revised his question, thinking maybe that would give him a clearer idea of who or what he was dealing with here. She seemed like a child for all intents and purposes. "Wait a minute, spirit world? What gives you that idea?"
He couldn't say he liked the sound of that.
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"I'm from the Earth Kingdom." She cut back on the duh factor since she knew she's all incognito in her Fire Nation outfit, but it crept back in eventually. Was everyone around here just totally living under a rock when it came to spirits?
"Yeah, the spirit world? That whole other place where all the spirit stuff happens?" If her tone was anything to go by, Sam was apparently the child here. The developmentally challenged, retarded child with rocks up his nose. ...Yeah, the duh factor's gotten ramped up a notch or three. "I don't know all the technical mumbo jumbo about it, but yeah. And I got that idea 'cause spirits have that nasty habit of picking up people out of nowhere? Heck, I was looking for a friend of mine that probably got abducted by spirits before I got here, so."
Reply
Ok, where he was from, most people tended to refer to Earth as less of a kingdom, and more of a planet, so he couldn't help but raise an eyebrow skeptically at her response. He caught the contempt loud and clear, and folded both arms across his chest defensively. Being picked on by a kid was a step down even from having to deal with Damon's snarky retorts and death threats.
"What kind of spirits?" he pressed, since she seemed just so well versed in this kind of thing.
Reply
Toph groaned in annoyance before sitting back up, elbows on her knees as she cast a thoroughly condescending look... A few feet to Sam's left. "Look, Giraffelope, I just said I don't know the technical mumbo jumbo when it comes to this stuff! What are you, deaf or something? Jeez..."
Just because she hung around with the Avatar didn't mean she got any crash courses in the spirit world. Not that she wanted to, anyway - spirits never helped anything, not in her experience.
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"Ok, ok," he said hastily, trying to quell her irritation. "I just thought I'd ask. Most people don't usually jump to 'spirit world' as a conclusion when they wake up somewhere unexpected, so I thought you might have a good reason for saying that." He figured the slight jab might get her to confess her reasoning at least. "I mean, you said you had a friend who you thought was abducted...?" Fishing for any information he could get was probably the best course of action for now. She might not have been pleasant, but it was a step up from talking to Damon.
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