up and over we go, through the wave and undertow. [open]

[fuckinpenguins]

Debra Morgan is in Grant Park, fighting a monster. Or, to put it more accurately, she's trying not to get eaten alive by some kind of enormous beast with huge incisors and blue fur. This is what happens in Chicago, apparently, when you go out for a cup of coffee and take a detour through the park. Needless to say, she's managed to spill hot coffee

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[sitherequietly]

When Castiel hears the sounds of gunfire in the park, he teleports to it instantly.

He can see the monster, and he can see Deb, continuing to shoot at the monster, even though the bullets don't seem to be working. He's behind her, and it doesn't really occur to him that speaking to someone who's firing a weapon when you weren't there five minutes earlier is probably not the best idea. So he does it anyway.

"Why are you still shooting at him if the bullets don't seem to be working?"

[fuckinpenguins]

Seriously, Castiel, not the best plan.

Deb jumps about a foot, only a set of really good instincts - and the fact that she should only have one bullet left - keeping her from letting off another shot in surprise.

"Jesus fucking christ, don't sneak up on people like that," she barks out. The monster is still approaching, and Deb turns from it to Castiel quickly. "You got any better ideas, I'm all fuckin' ears."

The narration apologizes for Deb's manners, Castiel. Well, sort of.

[sitherequietly]

Castiel watches her for a moment, head tipped to the side. She reminds him of Dean a bit, and if he was the laughing type, he probably would have. But he's not. Instead, he just disappears from where he was standing in front of her, before reappearing in front of the monster.

He draws his sword, and before the thing can react, shoves it up through it's neck with a large amount of force. Forcing the power of his grace through that point, he watches as the beast's eyes burn out from the force, and then moving to the side to let the thing drop to the ground. He isn't sure what it is, but it's dead now, so he supposes that identity is no longer important.

He then looks back over at Deb, before straightening his shoulders. "Is that sufficient?"

[fuckinpenguins]

It's probably a good thing Castiel doesn't laugh. Deb is not in the mood for that.

Castiel moves so fast on the beast that Deb barely has time to react to the fucking sword he just pulled out, to the way the creature's eyes light up or how quickly it dies.

"Fuck," Deb breathes out quietly, staring at both the corpse and the guy in the trench coat who just took the thing out. She clears her throat, then slides her gun back into the holster at her hip. "I - yeah, that was -" she brings a hand up to run through her hair, and she's shaking. Monsters. Fucking Chicago.

"Thanks," she says finally. "What the hell was that?"

[enjoythe_ride]

Don't worry, Dean. Entertainment is coming in the form of a leggy brunette.

Bela isn't usually the bar type unless it's for a job, but she's looking for something to do, and sitting in a bar for a few hours wouldn't hurt. She didn't expect to see Dean standing behind the bar, however, and at first, there is still that mild panic that came with the mention of Dean Winchester's name. She knows, however, that this Dean isn't out to kill her, so she swallows it down and makes her way back to the bar, sliding up on one of the stools and giving him a smile.

"Should I ask how your mixed drinks are, or just go with straight liquor to be safe?"

[thehandsomeone]

Leggy brunettes are always entertaining. True story.

Dean hasn't seen Bela since he helped her to the Kashtta, and while he honestly hasn't given her a lot of thought, he's glad to see that she's still on her feet. With Chicago, especially those first few months, you never know.

"I dunno," Dean says, grinning back. "Depends on how fancy you like your drinks."

The Luna gets all kinds, and Dean has been here over a year, so he's pretty much an old hand at whatever anyone orders. This doesn't mean he thinks frilly drinks are any less stupid, but hey. To each their own.

[enjoythe_ride]

Bela isn't too much of a frilly drink kind of girl. She likes the burn just as much as anyone, but if you drink liquor straight up, you have to worry about the age, the brand, the year. Mixed drinks take out the hassle that way, because the combination of the two flavors makes it harder to tell when one of them is terrible.

"Martini," she asks, but it's more of an order. "As dry as you can get."

It's a test. Not everyone can make a decent martini.

[thehandsomeone]

Dean raises an eyebrow at the tone, but doesn't comment on it. It's actually kind of nice to have a proper order, considering the level of stupid the Luna gets sometimes.

"Comin' right up," Dean says, flashing another grin before he gets to work. He mixes the gin, vermouth, and ice, going a little heavier on the gin to make it dryer. He shakes and strains the drink into a martini glass with a couple olives, then slides it over to Bela.

He's not the type to actually drink that shit, but he's pretty sure he has the mechanics down by now.

[pwnspatrickjane]

Why there is a shoeless woman in the middle of Grant Park, Shawn doesn't know, but he feels inclined to join her. He's aware that there are risks to going barefoot, but really, that isn't the kind of thing that someone should go through alone.

He doesn't say anything. Instead, he just reaches down, yanks off his shoes and socks, and tosses them over his shoulder, before wiggling his toes a bit on the ground. Yeeeeeeeeah this is kind of gross. But for right now? He can live with it.

[literalfinesse]

It takes Anya a minute to notice Shawn at all, because she is busy looking under a bench for about the fourth time in a few minutes. She knows the shoes won't be there, but she keeps hoping. This is Chicago. Perhaps whatever took her shoes will return them. Perhaps the shoes will return on their own.

The place operates on its own logic, after all.

Then she turns around and sees Shawn, who is also barefoot. She does not, initially, notice the shoes he has tossed over his shoulder.

"Oh! Hello," she says. "Did you get your shoes taken, too?"

[pwnspatrickjane]

He glances down at his feet, before wiggling his toes a bit. "Taken? No. More like rejected."

He didn't know her shoes had been taken, but that doesn't really change anything. A person should not be alone when they're going barefoot in the park. Whether it be on purpose or otherwise.

"That's right. Shoes -- they're just a sign of conformity to the man. I don't need little soles of rubber to keep me from separate from the earth. I want to be one with the earth. I want to feel it ... flow through me and I with it."

Yes, Shawn may be channeling his inner hippie. Feel free to tell him he sounds like an idiot.

[literalfinesse]

Anya is just going to stare at you for a minute there, Shawn. It's unusual for anyone else to leave her a bit speechless, but congratulations! You've accomplished that.

"Oh," she says, with a rather puzzled expression. She has very little experience with hippies - what with all the free love, there wasn't much need for her to enact vengeance for any of them.

"Well," she says, brushing off this nonsense. "That's all well and good for you, but my feet are getting cold. And dirty. And I run the risk of stepping on something unpleasant." She gestures to her feet, which aren't actually that dirty yet. Anya is a firm believer in pedicures since she began earning steady paychecks, and they're not the worst feet for someone to have to see.

Still. "They just... disappeared," she says. "You haven't seen a pair of shoes around, have you?" she asks. "Other than the ones you rejected."

[ohshiny_tomatos]

Parker sets Kitten Sophie down for just a moment so that she can fix her falling ponytail, and when she does, Sophie takes off. Parker has been doing everything possible to take good care of her kitten, because Sophie is all she has there. And because Parker doesn't have a lot else to do with her time. She has been itching to sneak in somewhere and steal something, but taking care of a kitten seems to be a full time job, and Parker isn't used to taking care of anyone. And now Sophie is escaping!!

Parker chases Sophie down the street and into the park. "Stop! Bad kitty! Freeze or you get no more cheese!" She watches as Sophie dives into a bush near where a woman is walking around without any shoes.

"Stop that kitty!" She shouts at the top of her lungs.

[literalfinesse]

Anya jumps when Parker starts shouting, and then squawks a little indignantly when one of the kittens she's been trying to avoid starts toward her, exactly where she'd been looking for her shoes.

She does not shapeshift. It's difficult, but she is too preoccupied with being suddenly barefoot to have all-consuming bunny thoughts.

Instead, she looks over at Parker, and then the kitten, and - very reluctantly - bends down toward the bush.

"Hello, kitten," she says, exactly as though she was talking to a person. She's pretty sure it's just a kitten, but in Chicago, there's no telling. "Stay still," she advises the kitten. "Someone's coming for you."

Anya just hopes the kitten stays still. It's her understanding that most people would help in this sort of chase, but her feet are already rather cold and dirty, and she'd like to find her shoes before she goes gallivanting after a cat. Still, she knows what it's like to be a tiny frightened animal in a big place like Grant Park. She'd want someone to look after her.

[ohshiny_tomatos]

Parker comes skidding to a stop near Anya and looks into the bush. "Bad Sophie! Very bad Sophie!" She scolds the kitty, shaking her finger.

She looks over at Anya and looks her over carefully. Her eyes drop to Anya's bare feet and she frowns before meeting Anya's eyes again. "You have no shoes," she says matter-of-factly. Then she crouches down, pulls a creamer packet from her pocket, tears it open, and holds it out.

"Come, Sophie." Her words are quick and harsh, not at all the soft and kind tone one might use for a kitten. Parker doesn't do soft and kind.

[literalfinesse]

Anya is a little surprised by Parker's tone. She has excessive affection for cats, but it seems like just a cat. In Anya's experience, cats just like to run around.

"Yes," Anya says to Parker's observation. "They seem to have gone missing." Disappeared into thin air, is the correct term, of course, but Anya is holding out hope! She doesn't want to walk back to the Tower barefoot.

She tilts her head in question at Parker. "Aren't those generally household pets? What are you doing outside with her?"

Yes, Parker, you're getting questioned by someone with no shoes. Such is Chicago life.

[a_baglady]

All Ray wanted to do was go back to where he first landed. That was it. He wasn’t expecting any trouble, and he definitely wasn’t expecting to see a woman facing up against a huge furry freak of a thing with nothing but a gun and an endless stream of curses in the middle of the park.

This is his second time seeing a monster like this, but it’s not any less shocking. Ray’s first instinct is to run like hell. He stifles it, and instead reaches for his gun and runs up to the woman. Hey, if one gun can’t kill it, maybe two will do the trick. “Holy shit,” he says by way of greeting. He tries to get a shot at the monster and misses every time.

[fuckinpenguins]

Deb appreciates the help, even if it does startle her at first. The monster, with two guns now shooting at it, seems a little - confused. It growls at Deb, then turns toward Ray, sizing him up.

"Yeah, that's right, you fucking furry freak," Deb snaps. There's a chance that she'd be a little less shoot everything in sight under normal circumstances, but then again - what kind of normal circumstances involve a goddamn monster?

While the monster is looking somewhat confused, Deb uses the opportunity to fire what she thinks is her last shot - she landed in Chicago with a loaded gun, but no bullets. Deb's a good shot, but the thing turns just in time, and she only gets its ear.

"Oh, fuck me," she says. She definitely just pissed the thing off more.

[a_baglady]

Ray takes a moment to curse his bad eyesight for the billionth time in his life before he frantically starts trying to dig for his glasses with one hand. He doesn’t even have his jacket today, how is it that his shit still gets lost in his clothes?

“Can you distract it or something?” he calls out to the woman, but too late, he realizes she’s already done that by clipping its ear. Damn, damn, damn, it looks like it’s about to blow its lid off. Ray would really prefer not to lose someone to an angry, blue monster on his watch, so he does the first thing he can think of and throws a rock at it, yelling all the while.

“Hey, bigfoot, over here!”

[fuckinpenguins]

Deb almost loses it when the guy starts throwing rocks. She's grateful for the help, of course, but seriously. Rocks.

"What are you doing -" she starts to ask, but then the monster does actually turn its attention back to Ray, leaving Deb with a minute to figure out what the fuck they're going to do with this thing.

A really brief minute, though. She's still holding her gun, and even though she's 99% sure she fired off the last shot a few seconds ago, something causes her to lift and point it again, right at the monster's head this time.

She isn't sure what surprises her more - that she makes the shot and floors the monster, or that the gun actually had a bullet in it.

"Holy shit," she breathes out.