671. There Are Different Types of Love....
(Taken shamelessly from mememaker's 126. I can love you in so many different ways. Because I looooove mememaker and this was one of my favorite memes.)
This meme deals with three types of love, angsty, sweet, and twisted! Please note that there are triggers abound!
- Post your characters and include preferences (if any!)
- Others reply.
- Go to RNG and enter numbers 1-3 ( Read more... )
This meme deals with three types of love, angsty, sweet, and twisted! Please note that there are triggers abound!
- Post your characters and include preferences (if any!)
- Others reply.
- Go to RNG and enter numbers 1-3 ( Read more... )
The location puts the worst area of Croates between them. It's across the lines of the military, through the zone where the deeper attacks as of late have been pushing the infected. The same natural benefits of terrain that made it a good location for a base camp, also meant that circling around would be a difficult proposition at best.
What makes it not like any other day is that it's Sterling who's dead-set on going after them. All of a sudden he's the one advocating a suicide mission, using thin tactical maybes as justification in what's usually Dean's jurisdiction. Sterling's always the pragmatist, always the survivalist, the hardly cares about ( ... )
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Looks like it's Sterling tonight, and though he's curiously devoid of bruises and there's not a speck of blood anywhere that Cas can see, something's off, just off enough that he notices, brows knitting together just slightly.]
Hey. Something happen?
[He steps out of the doorway and waves Sterling inside.]
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...And that's a bad thing why, exactly?
[Something about Sterling's voice and general demeanor is off, enough that even Cas notices, and so he heads over to his cabinet automatically, grabs the two closest glasses he can find, and drops them onto the table. He doesn't suppose Sterling's reason for advocating a suicide mission is something he's going to be particularly forthcoming with, not if it's something personal. Cas actually knows fairly little about the other man, though he imagines that's at least in part because most of their deeper conversations had taken place while one or both of them had been a bit less than coherent. If he's being honest, he's rather curious as to what could rattle him this way ( ... )
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Yeah, I know. Beggars can't be choosers, unfortunately.
[He pours them both what amounts to a large shot, though it looks tiny in the glasses-- he's getting the feeling from Sterling's uncharacteristic silence that it's going to be that kind of night.]
No limes, either, damn shame. We couldn't have set up camp in India...
[Pushing one of the glasses in Sterling's directing, he settles himself in the seat next to him.]
So... Where exactly are these survivors?
[He can only assume they're either extremely far, or in an extremely bad area if even Dean won't go after them. Dean has certainly changed over the past few years, but as of right now he still hasn't lost that desire to help people, even to his own detriment. It's... Noble, at best, and infuriating at worst. For Dean to be against going to get survivors when he knows where they are... It can't be good. ( ... )
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He sets the shot glass down on the table, heavy with the facts of the situation.]They're not that far away, their camp is set into the cliff of the waterfall on the river a little under a hundred miles out. But, they're right where the military's been hitting the croates recently. They've been hitting both sides, so we'd have to go through the worst of it to get there. Or, we take a detour around, ( ... )
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All in all it's not looking good for these people- not even Dean would do something that crazy... Which really makes him wonder why Sterling's so gung-ho about it. It's definitely strange. Cas makes to down his drink but isn't quite fast enough; the flavour hits his tongue and he makes a face, swallowing what had made it into his mouth and placing the glass on the table for now. He's not the one who needs loosening up anyway. He does refill Sterling's glass, however.]
That sounds pretty unfortunate for them. What's your plan?
[He actually knows Sterling to come up with decent plans, though he's unsure that even a tactician as skilled as he is could manage to pull this off without getting the entire camp killed on the way. He's ignoring the obvious question, for now; they'll get there eventually. Until then he'll just put those hard- ( ... )
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[There was something about the way he said it, something in his expression that meant his genius plan was useless. Of course, one had to wonder exactly how Sterling thought that he could manage that particular plan, anyway. Sterling had never really talked about what he'd done before all of this, about who he was, despite the typical bonding over horror stories. His stories weren't the sort that promoted bonding. No one except Cas- maybe Dean- even knew his first name. Simple fact was that as much as people might hate him now, he'd been even more of a jerk before the Apocalypse ( ... )
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[Cas doesn't even know what that means, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't the slightest bit intrigued, even if the other man's tone suggests that it's not really an option at all. He doesn't miss the subtle change in Sterling's voice when he says her, either, but he's waiting on asking about that, for now. He has to wonder who this person could be, though... A wife? Ex-wife? Sister? ...Does Sterling even have any living family? Cas assumes as a rule that when people come here alone, they're alone; he can't imagine anyone, even Sterling, leaving family behind... Whatever the case may be, and as curious as he is, he's going to focus on what seems like the least personal subject for the time being. He doesn't want to push to hard too fast, he knows from experience (Dean) that that's pretty pointless.]
Too many variables. Military, croates, terrain... We'd never make it.
[Cas may not be the best strategist here, but he's far from the worst, and he certainly knows enough to recognize a death trap when he ( ... )
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Running a job. We con the military.
[That smile that curves his lips, it's not just the most like himself that Sterling's looked since he'd walked through the door tonight- there's something bright and sharp and vibrant and almost seductive in the way those last four words roll across his lips, and his tongue slips after them. It might be the most alive the man's look since he stepped foot in the camp. It passes, of course, as he sighs and recollects that he'd have to get Dean behind this, get the man to listen to what he tells him. Hah. It might be his best shot, but ]I could do it with you, Dean, and some pretty thing that makes heads turn and knows how to be whatever pretty lie the ( ... )
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[He'd add are you fucking insane to that, but he imagines his tone gets that across just fine. That... Wasn't the idea he'd been expecting. At all. It was the absolute furthest thing from what he'd been expecting. It's so mind-boggling he's actually forgotten what he'd been expecting.]
That's what you did before you came here? You were a con man?
[He doesn't know why he's surprised; in fact, he can easily imagine Sterling being very, very good at his job. Back before everything went to shit and the assumed military orders weren't to shoot first and ask questions never, anyway. If he thought there was even the slightest chance of this working, he might have been able to be convinced to tag along and give it a shot, but as it is...]
They'd kill you on sight, before you even had a chance to speak.
[He downs his drink; he takes no pleasure in blowing holes in plans, but it's ( ... )
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[Sterling said it with a tone that was reminiscent of Dean's it's-not-a-problem voice. But, Sterling's tone held a hint of amusement, as if he had a card up his sleeve that Cas just hasn't caught onto yet. Which, he did, of course. The alcohol was kicking in, enough so that he could forget that this was an impossibility.]
Oh, no, not at all. I was an Insurance Investigator -- much worse than a conman, and fortunately, also legal. Insurance. People pay money so that in the event that something happens, they get a payout to cover the loss. My job, was to find any way to prevent the company from having to pay. Violation of contract, retrieving stolen items, finding culprits for the crimes...
[It was a job so dirty that not even Hell had an equivalent. Another shot, poured and downed and Sterling was smiling that sharp, predatory, shark-ish smile again.]Then I conned a group of thieves into making me the President of the insurance company. And after a particularly high-profile return of a 9 million dollar ( ... )
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I have no doubt you were good at what you did.
[He wonders if it's just the liquor getting to him. He certainly hopes so, Sterling's plans are usually much better and much less suicidal than this one seems to be. Which is only adding to Cas's curiosity, making him wonder who this person could be that she's able to have this effect on Sterling, who prides himself on being above such things, for the most part. He can't really help himself anymore--]
Who is she?
[It's a bit more blunt than he'd intended but, well... Blunt works, sometimes. He downs his drink.]
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Olivia. She's my daughter. I thought.. I thought I lost her three years ago.
[His voice is quiet, ripe with pain and guilt and hesitates in ways that Sterling has never been. But, beneath that is grim, steely determination more fitted for Dean's whatever it takes than Sterling's survival first. But this is different. Sterling loves her. Sham of a marriage or not, Olivia had been special. And he will burn down the ( ... )
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Sterling is silent for longer than Cas had expected, and just as he's finally taking that shot, just when he's about to give getting an answer up as a lost cause, Sterling speaks. Cas nearly chokes on the liquor, just narrowly avoids coughing it up all over the table; he isn't sure he's heard him right, so just to clarify:]
Your daughter?
[He'd never... But... What? If there was any single person on this earth (aside from himself, of course) that Cas could never picture as a parent, it'd be Sterling. While he isn't quite the most self-serving person Cas ( ... )
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