[closed/active] I wanna go to the late night double feature picture show

[secondcity_npc]

Characters: Anyone interested in random monster slaying/acts of violence
Location: Blackstone Hotel, Hard Rock Hotel (PLEASE SPECIFY)
Content: Random action. Monster Slaying. Violence. No plot.
Format: Poster's Choice, NPCs will be commentspam for time
Warnings: Violence. And probably more to come.

Comments

Blackstone

[chosenfreedom]

Dean had made some allowance for getting a local delicacy, namely brats. Still avoiding deep dish pizza like the Plague however, he'd pretty much resigned that Death all but permanently turned him off to them. Shame really. Still, the cheesy horror movie on the tv in the room couldn't completely drown out the skittering sound.

Then the lights went out with a weird flare of green, and he scowled before grabbing his nearby weapons to investigate.

[secondcity_npc]

[becauseimboring]

[huntingmemory]

It wasn't that Sam thought that Clare should stay back because she wasn't a fighter. He knew she was smart, though he wasn't sure how much fighting experience she had.

But he barely got his finger off the trigger when she darted out in front of them, jerking the gun up so that he wouldn't fire and hit her accidentally. "Clare!" he shouted, reaching out to pull her back, trusting Dean to have reacted the same way.

He noticed the wounds as well, tallying it up with a soft curse. "Faerie!" he called to Dean. The knives were steel, but it was going to be up to Dean. With Clare and his own gun, Sam's hands were full.

[chosenfreedom]

Dean jerked the barrel of his own gun upward and cursed, "Goddammit Clare!" He tried to get between her and the clown.

"Faerie? We got creepy clown Tink going on?" He shook his head, before grabbing out a steel knife to slash and stab at the clown.

[secondcity_npc]

[becauseimboring]

[huntingmemory]

Even after this long in Chicago, Sam just wasn't always used to working with people other than Dean. Actually, given his memory, he really wasn't used to working with anybody other than Dean.

Sam watched Dean, letting Clare go so that he could get his gun holstered again. "Do NOT run between people firing and the target," he said, pulling his own knife. "They weren't hurting the fae enough, but they could have killed you."

Now that the guns were out of the way, though, Sam wasn't going to stop her from attacking. He was, however, going to use his own knife to take out the fae's good arm.

[chosenfreedom]

"Son of a bitch!" Dean swore as the claws took a swipe on his arm, drawing blood. It accomplished the purpose of him dropping the knife, forcing him into a roll to retrieve it. From the lower vantage point, he tried swiping at the fae-clown's legs.

[secondcity_npc]

[huntingmemory]

"Ugh. That's gross." Sam stepped back, wrinkling his nose. "Kind of reminds me of a skinwalker, actually." Though not exactly. As far as he knew, skinwalkers couldn't take the form of anything that they didn't come in contact with. Pennywise would be hard to come in contact with.

He rubbed his hand over his face, then turned back to Clare. "When people are shooting, you do NOT run out in front of them," he told Clare again. "If Dean and I had been paying less attention, you could have been dead. Or, at least, severely injured. It would have taken you two seconds to warn us that you were moving. The longer reaction time you can give us, the better chance you have of everybody staying alive."