[all hallows eve] not all jokes are funny.
[OOC: Forward-dated to Halloween. Open like an open thing. Treat this like a party post. Slowtiming and backdating is beautiful. No pressure, just tag around and have fun with it!]It is almost with tentativeness the people of Chicago celebrate Halloween
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She had never been one to believe in stories about ghosts and goblins coming out on All Hallows Eve, but this wasn't the world she was used to. This was the Rift. And it had other plans for the night. Thankfully, in her rush to get the Sanctuary up and running, Helen had procured a few items necessary for her old life- namely... weapons. She gripped her newly purchased handgun in both hands while running down the nearest alley, hoping to follow the trail that the creature had left in its wake.
She hadn't gotten a good look at it, but it was humanoid by nature, albeit much larger than the typical, and male, from what she could tell. Anyone with good sense would be running away from it, but Helen just doesn't have that sort of sense left, it seems. She pauses at the end of the alley, pressing her back to the stone wall and trying to get a look around the corner, to see if the coast is clear to continue following after it.
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Unlike Helen, she isn't big on the handguns though. Instead, she's been tracking the same thing she is, scythe gripped tightly in her hand and a determined look on her face. She skids to a stop in front of the giant thing, whatever it is, and looks up with a glare.
"Hey. You left without your gift." And with that, she'll launch her scythe at it's head, aiming to bring it down quickly.
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Helen takes this as an opportunity to confuse the creature with an element of surprise. She steps out of the alley, aiming her weapon at the cyclops and taking a look at the young woman she'd heard call out earlier.
"Thought you might need a hand."
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"Please," she says with a wave. "By all means."
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Crowley thinks this is going to be a rather good Halloween. He’s spent most of the night going place to place, enjoying the parties and causing general havoc in places. Because it’s not really a party unless someone dies or at least wets themself out of fear ( ... )
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He's known ever since he saw the comment on his journal, but he chose not to acknowledge him. Usually that tends to be the safer bet with a demon like Crowley. However, given the current situation, Castiel can't afford that.
They are hellhounds. Castiel can't just let them go unnoticed.
He appears in the middle of the street, in front of Crowley and his hounds, who have the hackles up at the mere presence of an angel. He raises his hands, starting to glow white with the threat of what he could do to them, and then turns his eyes on their master.
"Hello, Crowley."
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He's busy patting one of the hounds on the head when they begin snarling. He frowns for a moment before turning his head, his face dropping a little at the sight of Castiel. He's not very happy to see you, Cas. Not at all.
"Bollocks," he mutters.
At least he has Hellhounds to give him a good head start. He's sad he's going to have to give up his pups, but he'd rather save himself. There'll be another opportunity for Hellhounds to come back again.
"Castiel. Was wondering when you'd turn up." he says, eyes narrowing. "Right then. Sic 'im, boys!"
The hounds obey and leap forward, teeth snapping furiously.
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And a few seconds later, Castiel is standing in front of Crowley, cutting off his avenue of escape.
"Chicago does not need you causing more trouble."
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So she throws on one of Dan's old trench coats, grabs a shot gun and some ammo, and floors her black Jeep into the fray.
By the time she parks on a side street, she's already spotted a number of wholly abnormal-looking things and makes a mental note for each: what it looks like, where it was, if there was any screaming.
It's so easy to hunt monsters when your sense of self-preservation doesn't really exist.
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He's lived his whole life hunting these things down, and it only stands to reason on Halloween, there would be more of them than usual. It's almost ironic, the life he thought he wouldn't lead is the one he does even now that Dean is gone. What would John say if he could see him?
Sam's not sure he wants to know.
He's firing off shot after shot at one of the monsters, but he's running out of ammo quickly and could use the back-up, whether he admits it or not.
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Dani stops about ten feet behind Sam, taking careful aim and shooting. The bullet zips through the creature's throat, at which point she runs up to Sam's side and greets him with a nod.
"Happy Halloween."
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Sam turns to her, not expecting a young-looking girl to be the one to help before the thing lunges at him. He doesn't know why--Jo's a hunter in her own right.
Dani's shot distracts the monster, and it paves the way for Sam to take aim again, shooting it between its eyes. Breathing slightly heavy, he turns to her. "Thanks for the save."
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Unfortunately, the Rift won't let her do that. She was heading to the first party she could see, dressed up with Dia de los Muertos-style makeup on her face and flowers in her hair. As it hit midnight, the Rift spat out a Chimera... roughly the size of a car.
Her first instinct is to kill it. She's been withholding on hunting lately, trying to fix her life somehow. But this is something she can't ignore and she had to get rid of it. She pulls a knife from a holster on her leg, just in case, and runs straight at it.
Jumping on its back, she starts trying to hack at the snake head whilst avoiding being stabbed with the ram's horns. She should be able to deal with this, but she wouldn't mind a little help.
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It's sheer coincidence that finds him in Dylan's presence, and a few seconds pass before he realizes that he's not hallucinating.
He reflexively grabs his sword, which immediately begins to glow and change. This is only the fourth time Fletch has witnessed his sword morph into a ridiculous weapon that he should not, under any circumstances, be able to yield due to its size, and every time he pauses for a moment to watch the process in wonder.
And then he remembers that it's Dylan who's in trouble, and he leaps toward the creature without another thought, the iridescent sword shining white above his head. "Look out!"
That snake head is coming off.
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She falls back, narrowly avoiding the rather sharp horns behind her. Regaining her balance, she raises her knife and with frenzied stabbing motions, lands quick blows on the ram's head. She manages to take out its eyes before she's thrown off, landing awkwardly on the concrete.
Wings out now for the extra boost, she picks herself back up and throws herself back on to the creature again. "Get the lion!" she shouts at him, bringing her knife down on the ram's head once more.
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This is a fun reunion.
Fletch salutes her before charging back at the monster. It roars at him and opens its jaws as though welcoming a meal, and he really can't help but marvel at the size of its teeth.
And all that stringy saliva...
He plunges his weapon straight into the lion's mouth and down its throat.
The result is not pretty.
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Lunch specials for the day include "worms and eyeballs" (spaghetti & meatballs), "mummy heads" (mini-pizzas with olives for eyes), and "brains" (some really questionable Jell-O & cottage cheese mixture). You'd be wise to stick to your candy today, kids.
There are costumed people roaming the halls, staff to students alike. In the principal's office sits a pile of confiscated weaponry, and anyone wearing a mask will be told to remove it immediately. People wearing inappropriate costumes will be sent home.
The day's gym classes are canceled, as the gym itself is all decked out and ready for the dance later that night, where there will be awkward dancing and piles of baked goods and spiked punch.
Happy Halloween, Coyotes!
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...no, really. He pulls off the look pretty well, but that's not a huge surprise.
In honor of his costume and the holiday, he's conducting some electricity experiments with his class. The experiments feature plasma lamps, and anyone afraid of a bad hair day would be wise to stay away.
He's also one of the chaperons at the dance and will be sticking to his 'awkward chaperon corner' for the duration, thank you very much. Dances never were, and still aren't, his thing. So he will be there, maybe tapping his foot along to some of the music and wondering why the punch tastes weird.
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She doesn't plan on staying that long at the dance. She doesn't intend to let the whole angel of death thing take over every aspect of her entire existence, but she's realistic--it's Halloween, there are going to be deaths, and she needs to be out there instead of in here.
It's just nice to be a part of it for a little bit.
A tiny smile pulls at her lips once she sees Dave in his costume glory. Hands at her back, she approaches him with that small smile in place. "Not a fan of dances, I take it?"
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"Not high school ones, no," he replies, making a face as he surveys the crowd of teenagers. "It's so awkward. And that, coming from me, means it's gotta be pretty bad."
People just don't know how to socialize or how to move their bodies, and the ones who do are... using these skills in ways inappropriate for a school gymnasium setting. Lineface.
"But there's free food, so whatever."
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