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secondcity_npc April 18 2011, 23:51:34 UTC

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secondcity_npc April 20 2011, 00:59:26 UTC

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becauseimboring April 20 2011, 03:16:01 UTC

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huntingmemory April 20 2011, 05:59:13 UTC
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.

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chosenfreedom April 20 2011, 20:46:01 UTC
"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.

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secondcity_npc April 20 2011, 20:58:00 UTC

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huntingmemory April 26 2011, 23:27:46 UTC
"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."

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