Dean at the pub!breakmychestSeptember 20 2010, 00:24:11 UTC
Spike had seen the pub sign as well, and he very much wanted a drink. It seemed like just the thing to deal with being whisked into a different dimension where time was wonky and his least favorite romantic rival was probably making eyes at his girl right now. Not that Buffy was his girl, but she wasn't Angel's either. But... drinks. He hoped there were some actually there.
It was still weird to walk through the sun and not burn up, but Spike wasn't complaining. It was nice that there were some things about this place that weren't entirely awful. He smiled up at the sun and didn't notice the other man until he accidentally ran into him.
He was nearly to the door when the other man ran into him, and the events of the day had put him on such edge that instinct was to reach for the knife at his hip, but when his fingers wrapped around the handle, he forced himself to stop. Relax, he mentally coached, get yourself off edge and start actin' like you've got this under control
( ... )
Spike shrugged and stepped back. The other man was clearly very on edge. He could hear the heartbeat. Still, considering their circumstances, he couldn't really blame him. "I was just enjoying the sunlight. Wasn't paying attention. Sorry."
He reached past the other man and pulled the door open. "Hopefully, there'll be at least something, right? Though it'd bloody figure if I'd ended up in a dimension without beer."
Enjoying the sunlight. Dean couldn't help the tempered look of judgment that crossed onto his features over how gay that sounded, but he had to remind himself that sometimes, it was better to keep those things inside. When he finally got around to finding Sam, maybe he'd make mention of it, but for now, he was just gonna keep his thoughts on Spike's dubious sexuality inside. He worked past the judgment and just shrugged him off, moving past the guy and into the bar -- assuming he'd followed him since they both had intentions to go in for the same reason, he continued talking
( ... )
You know who this is for :3 ... hint, it's not for Damon keep him away >:CalwaysthesaviorSeptember 20 2010, 00:31:51 UTC
Peter isn't sure what this place is, or why he's suddenly here, instead of where he was before, which was not a good place at all but still, he shouldn't have been able to just randomly disappear from one place and appear in another. Oh well, whatever happened to make this possible, it's done, and since he's gone through the trouble of getting out of the nice cool stream that was really helping with all the minor burns he's gotten from the killer acidic stream mud, he might as well explore this new place, because it couldn't hurt. Well, except for the fact that it does hurt a lot of the time, especially for Peter, and especially in this wood, but that doesn't stop him from opening the gates to see what's inside the barracks.
So he looks around, pretty much expecting an empty space, but instead finds what pretty much makes up a town. There's a store, a pub, a lot of cabins and... "Claire?"
BUT PETER, DAMON TTLY LOVES YOU. :33 He promises you'll like it.autophoenixSeptember 20 2010, 00:43:32 UTC
It was, quite possibly, the last voice she'd expected to hear from behind when she had started to stomp off in an effort to get some alone space, but it worked better than anything else might have to stop Claire dead in her tracks. Her heart jumped up in her chest, but she was afraid to hope. Slowly, she turned around to face the source of the noise and relief washed over her in a cool wave. All hesitance forgotten, she ran straight for him, throwing her arms around his neck and burying her face against it, not seeming all too concerned with why he was drenched. For the moment, at least
( ... )
He hadn't been entirely sure that it was her at first--he just assumes that every short blond in the whole world is Claire and calls her name at them, so when she turns and it really is her, and not some stranger that's going to make his life feel awkward, he's relieved. Not that he really wants her to be here--this is a terrible place for Claire to be--but he's glad that he was able to find her at least.
He groans in pain a little bit when she touches his irritated skin with her attack hug, but hugs her back anyway, though he misses most of what she says due to the feeling of her arms rubbing off little bits of his burns. He's extremely grateful when she pulls away so he can concentrate on the conversation again, except that he still has no idea what she's saying. "Claire, it's okay, it's okay. Animals? What?" He sighs. "Could you start over?"
/edges closer. 8)autophoenixSeptember 20 2010, 02:07:07 UTC
Taking note of the grimace, she began to study him as she pulled away, scrutinizing the wear and tear on his body. She, more delicately than her hug had been, placed a hand on some of the less serious burns and frowned, lips pursed tersely as she tried to fixate on answering his questions before she started to pelt him with her own.
"The ones who were trying to sell us, you didn't run into them?" Okay, that was quite possibly even more confusing, and it showed in the way her eyebrows knitted together. "They were huge, they looked like -- and they tied us up with ropes. I think they must have drugged them or something, too, because it --" Her explanation slowed and she chewed the inside of her lip, trying to come up with an explanation for why he could possibly not know.
"You really didn't see them. Peter, where were you before now? What happened to you? Look, just -- take my ability, and we'll find some place to sit and talk and work through all of what happened, okay?"
Dean, in the pub. (With the lead pipe?)stumblednotfellSeptember 20 2010, 03:55:59 UTC
Castiel hadn't heard from Dean, and he was more than a little worried. The complete lack of response wasn't a sign of anything good, he was certain.
Gramted, after his first experience of possession he didn't think anything in this place could be a sign of something good. Still, once inside the barracks, the logical place to look for Dean would be, he was certain, a place with alcohol. And if Dean wasn't there, the prospect of large quantities of alcohol was still incentive enough to investigate.
He made his way into the pub, his face drawn. He was staring directly ahead of him, his gaze fixed on nothing in particular, and his hands were not shaking. Angels' hands didn't shake, after all, therefore, his hands couldn't be shaking. He ignored the feeling that there might be a flaw in his logic, and shoved his hands into the pockets of his (strangely unbloodied) trenchcoat.
"...Dean?"
No matter how he felt, he had to keep his mind on one simple thing: the pub would yield Dean, alcohol, or both. That would have to be good enough.
psh no way dean goes candlestick all the way.obiwanningSeptember 20 2010, 04:05:51 UTC
He knew that voice. He hoped to hell he knew that voice, because considering he still hadn't managed to find Sam, he could sure go for a familiar face right about now. Dean came out of the stock room, trying not to appear too eager to find out if he was right, keeping one hand clapped on the doorway as he stared out into the main area of the pub and had his suspicions confirmed. Cas.
"You son of a bitch," he shook his head -- despite the expletive, it was relief that filled his voice. If it was Cas that had brought him here, it meant they'd be able to get this goddamn lesson over with and leave and find Sammy. He scrubbed a hand over his face as he let go of the door frame, continuing into the main area and stepping closer to Cas. By the looks of it, he'd already partaken of the questionable quality alcohol that the place had to offer, but not enough to put a slur in his speech or a trip in his step.
"I knew this had your name written all over it. What's the deal, you got something you wanna tell me, you couldn't just say
( ... )
At the implication that he had done this, the muscles in Castiel's face tightened. It was the smallest motion, too subtle to be called a wince, but it was there nonetheless, just barely perceptible.
"I didn't do this," he said, a harsh edge to his voice which he hadn't quite intended. He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets -- Where was the holy oil Molotov? he wondered, and then remembered that, of course, he had left it in the clearing, when that spirit had...
He resolved not to think about what the spirit had done, and reminded himself again that his hands weren't supposed to tremble.
"...Check your pockets, Dean. You should have one of these." He held up the communicator, then thrust his hand back in his pocket before a tremor could give him away. "I left a message."
It was the harsh edge of Castiel's tone that made Dean really take notice to the change in the angel's demeanor. He seemed … distracted. Shaken. It was like looking into a goddamn mirror, except for the fact that Cas wasn't supposed to look like that. He was supposed to be the one who had it under control, who was calm and collected and guided him. He was supposed to have to goddamn emotional capacity of a rock. Still, he kept from voicing it, but an apprehensive look made its way into his eyes anyway as he began to check his pockets.
The search led him to realize with a mildly frustrated look that something had happened to the EMF reader he knew had been brought with him, but he was too distracted in searching for the toy Castiel was holding up to care much about that for the moment. He'd deal with it later -- chances were it was up North somewhere by where Merlin had dropped 'em off
( ... )
/steals damon since no one else has :3highvoltagegirlSeptember 20 2010, 05:16:14 UTC
Elle was more than happy to break away from her group as soon as they were within the walls of the fort. They were just bogging her down with all their annoying bullshit and, in the cases of some of them, concern. She'd decided it wasn't real concern-- why would it be real? They didn't know her. The pain in her leg was getting easier to ignore, even though the blood had mostly soaked through the bandages at this point
( ... )
mmm /stolenmiseternitySeptember 20 2010, 05:58:21 UTC
The smell of blood alerted Damon to Elle's presence before she even got inside the house. His grip on the arm of the decrepit little rocking chair tightened and his shoulders tightened to a greater degree as she came inside. God, he was starving, and it was a painful reminder. When his eyes went red and he felt the veins around them begin to throb in the way that confirmed that his eye sockets would look black and spooky were he to turn around. He wasn't nearly as out of control as Stefan was -- he'd been well-fed and kept his urges under control for over a century and a half now, and it wasn't difficult to avoid taking a bite out of women who cut their fingers dicing vegetables, unlike his rather unscrupulous brother, but the wound in her thigh was freely flowing and stunk of fresh blood
( ... )
Before she could think another thought, she was up against the wall. She gasped for breath, fear and the adrenaline that came with it rushing through her. The spiders were nothing compared to this. This was up close, personal, and reminded her far too much of her close call with Sylar.
"I'm not hungry." There was fear in her eyes, definitely, but she wasn't going to cower or surrender. Something clicked in the back of her mind, almost like going into autopilot. She knew exactly what to do. The current of electricity that rushed through her wasn't very strong-- not enough to blast him off of her, like she had intended for it to, but hopefully it was enough to warn him away from her. Getting assaulted by some creepy rapist guy was the only way this day could get any worse.
He was about to open his mouth for a smarmy retort when he felt the surge of electricity -- like sticking his hand in a fried electrical socket. Releasing her, he shook out one of his hands, staring at it in morbid fascination before slowly flicking his gaze back up towards her, penetrating.
"Neat trick," he complimented, a wide, wolfish smirk tugging over his lips. Things just got a lot more interesting. He usually wasn't one to play with his food, but when so many people here were so damn fascinating, how was he supposed to help it? Not a damn one of them was fully human.
Of course, as it had been with Sam, his first assumption was witch for Elle -- this time, though, it felt more logical. She didn't smell the same degree of separation away from humanity as Sam had. But, witches were the most likely threat to any vampire, and the way she managed to spark the blue energy over his skin seemed telling.
"Now, where did you learn a thing like that?" His drawl was slow, taunting and patronizing in a dozen different ways, and
( ... )
DEAN... Out in the barracks.hisstupidheartSeptember 20 2010, 05:51:51 UTC
Des looked pretty scratched up from his encounter with huge, dark and hairy back in the woods, but the lack of visible bruising and teethmarks was something to be concerned about- not that he wasn't covering all that up with his leather jacket. He'd traded the crossbow for the revolver, figuring it was appropriate for the fucking ghost town they'd found themselves in.
"You see Marshall Dillon anywhere?" He asked Dean. "I've got a few questions."
Looking over his shoulder at Des, he steeled his jaw and gave him another once over. Still, not a damn scratch on him. It was like the man was the single best rodeo rider in the nation, or some kinda demon. It took him this long to realize he'd never bothered checking, and mentally he had to scold himself for it. But, with everything else that had been going on, Dean gave himself the leeway that he'd never really had the time for it. Still. Better late than never.
"Christo," he muttered it under his breath as if it were a swear at the sheer desolation of the town rather than with the intentions of getting a reaction out of Des. When the other hunter showed no signs of tensing, Dean gave a shrug. Well. At least he checked. Guess the guy just got lucky after all. He turned his attention back toward the town. "My guess is he probably bailed or got ganged with the rest of 'em. Never seen a place this empty. What do you think the chances are the whole damn thing's full of hauntings?" His expression soured as he realized
( ... )
Des did a doubletake and blinked. "And bless you too, kid," he said without so much as a flinch- more like an expression of 'why you be muttering the name of God at me, crazy?'
He rolled his shoulders. "Probably, but I think ghosts are the last thing we oughta be worried about- those spider bitches probably ain't even the worse things out there. Did you see what some of these idiots came in looking like?" He jerked his head behind him, even though most of the streets were clear at this point. Frowning, he stepped up onto the porch of what looked like an abandoned general store.
"So who puts a town in the middle of a creepy forest? That just implies there were actually people dumb enough to live here once upon a time," he muttered.
Which means, if he wasn't already sure of it, this couldn't be the Between. Well, fuck, that just made things even more complicated.
"Somebody who's got no reason to be afraid of what's in it," Dean responded, tone despondent and resigned. Which meant whatever had built this town was probably bigger and badder than what they'd run into outside of it. Hopefully, they wouldn't come home to find Goldilocks and her seven cousins in their beds and throw a damn fit.
The other possibility was more frightening than that even, though, so he resisted the urge to voice it. The other distinct possibility was that no one had lived there at all, even once upon a time, and it had been built to keep them in. There was no denying the fact that they could very easily have been herded into this fort by those spiders. Hell, if little baby spiders with screaming babies on their legs started scrambling around out of the buildings, Dean would only be half surprised. But, he'd rather act under the assumption that it was just abandoned and hope they got the chance to find some leftover supplies. Food."Come on," he beckoned to Des, heading inside the front door of the store. The
( ... )
Comments 70
It was still weird to walk through the sun and not burn up, but Spike wasn't complaining. It was nice that there were some things about this place that weren't entirely awful. He smiled up at the sun and didn't notice the other man until he accidentally ran into him.
Reply
Reply
He reached past the other man and pulled the door open. "Hopefully, there'll be at least something, right? Though it'd bloody figure if I'd ended up in a dimension without beer."
Reply
Reply
So he looks around, pretty much expecting an empty space, but instead finds what pretty much makes up a town. There's a store, a pub, a lot of cabins and... "Claire?"
Reply
Reply
He groans in pain a little bit when she touches his irritated skin with her attack hug, but hugs her back anyway, though he misses most of what she says due to the feeling of her arms rubbing off little bits of his burns. He's extremely grateful when she pulls away so he can concentrate on the conversation again, except that he still has no idea what she's saying. "Claire, it's okay, it's okay. Animals? What?" He sighs. "Could you start over?"
Reply
"The ones who were trying to sell us, you didn't run into them?" Okay, that was quite possibly even more confusing, and it showed in the way her eyebrows knitted together. "They were huge, they looked like -- and they tied us up with ropes. I think they must have drugged them or something, too, because it --" Her explanation slowed and she chewed the inside of her lip, trying to come up with an explanation for why he could possibly not know.
"You really didn't see them. Peter, where were you before now? What happened to you? Look, just -- take my ability, and we'll find some place to sit and talk and work through all of what happened, okay?"
Reply
Gramted, after his first experience of possession he didn't think anything in this place could be a sign of something good. Still, once inside the barracks, the logical place to look for Dean would be, he was certain, a place with alcohol. And if Dean wasn't there, the prospect of large quantities of alcohol was still incentive enough to investigate.
He made his way into the pub, his face drawn. He was staring directly ahead of him, his gaze fixed on nothing in particular, and his hands were not shaking. Angels' hands didn't shake, after all, therefore, his hands couldn't be shaking. He ignored the feeling that there might be a flaw in his logic, and shoved his hands into the pockets of his (strangely unbloodied) trenchcoat.
"...Dean?"
No matter how he felt, he had to keep his mind on one simple thing: the pub would yield Dean, alcohol, or both. That would have to be good enough.
Reply
"You son of a bitch," he shook his head -- despite the expletive, it was relief that filled his voice. If it was Cas that had brought him here, it meant they'd be able to get this goddamn lesson over with and leave and find Sammy. He scrubbed a hand over his face as he let go of the door frame, continuing into the main area and stepping closer to Cas. By the looks of it, he'd already partaken of the questionable quality alcohol that the place had to offer, but not enough to put a slur in his speech or a trip in his step.
"I knew this had your name written all over it. What's the deal, you got something you wanna tell me, you couldn't just say ( ... )
Reply
"I didn't do this," he said, a harsh edge to his voice which he hadn't quite intended. He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets -- Where was the holy oil Molotov? he wondered, and then remembered that, of course, he had left it in the clearing, when that spirit had...
He resolved not to think about what the spirit had done, and reminded himself again that his hands weren't supposed to tremble.
"...Check your pockets, Dean. You should have one of these." He held up the communicator, then thrust his hand back in his pocket before a tremor could give him away. "I left a message."
Reply
The search led him to realize with a mildly frustrated look that something had happened to the EMF reader he knew had been brought with him, but he was too distracted in searching for the toy Castiel was holding up to care much about that for the moment. He'd deal with it later -- chances were it was up North somewhere by where Merlin had dropped 'em off ( ... )
Reply
Reply
Reply
"I'm not hungry." There was fear in her eyes, definitely, but she wasn't going to cower or surrender. Something clicked in the back of her mind, almost like going into autopilot. She knew exactly what to do. The current of electricity that rushed through her wasn't very strong-- not enough to blast him off of her, like she had intended for it to, but hopefully it was enough to warn him away from her. Getting assaulted by some creepy rapist guy was the only way this day could get any worse.
Reply
"Neat trick," he complimented, a wide, wolfish smirk tugging over his lips. Things just got a lot more interesting. He usually wasn't one to play with his food, but when so many people here were so damn fascinating, how was he supposed to help it? Not a damn one of them was fully human.
Of course, as it had been with Sam, his first assumption was witch for Elle -- this time, though, it felt more logical. She didn't smell the same degree of separation away from humanity as Sam had. But, witches were the most likely threat to any vampire, and the way she managed to spark the blue energy over his skin seemed telling.
"Now, where did you learn a thing like that?" His drawl was slow, taunting and patronizing in a dozen different ways, and ( ... )
Reply
"You see Marshall Dillon anywhere?" He asked Dean. "I've got a few questions."
Reply
"Christo," he muttered it under his breath as if it were a swear at the sheer desolation of the town rather than with the intentions of getting a reaction out of Des. When the other hunter showed no signs of tensing, Dean gave a shrug. Well. At least he checked. Guess the guy just got lucky after all. He turned his attention back toward the town. "My guess is he probably bailed or got ganged with the rest of 'em. Never seen a place this empty. What do you think the chances are the whole damn thing's full of hauntings?" His expression soured as he realized ( ... )
Reply
He rolled his shoulders. "Probably, but I think ghosts are the last thing we oughta be worried about- those spider bitches probably ain't even the worse things out there. Did you see what some of these idiots came in looking like?" He jerked his head behind him, even though most of the streets were clear at this point. Frowning, he stepped up onto the porch of what looked like an abandoned general store.
"So who puts a town in the middle of a creepy forest? That just implies there were actually people dumb enough to live here once upon a time," he muttered.
Which means, if he wasn't already sure of it, this couldn't be the Between. Well, fuck, that just made things even more complicated.
Reply
The other possibility was more frightening than that even, though, so he resisted the urge to voice it. The other distinct possibility was that no one had lived there at all, even once upon a time, and it had been built to keep them in. There was no denying the fact that they could very easily have been herded into this fort by those spiders. Hell, if little baby spiders with screaming babies on their legs started scrambling around out of the buildings, Dean would only be half surprised. But, he'd rather act under the assumption that it was just abandoned and hope they got the chance to find some leftover supplies. Food."Come on," he beckoned to Des, heading inside the front door of the store. The ( ... )
Reply
Leave a comment