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[So, sometime after he sneaks away from Santana and her obsessive need for attention, Kurt's wandering around looking for somewhere to be. The video catches him wandering down an unfamiliar hallway, hoping that whatever's been out to get him won't find him if he's not on his usual stomping grounds, so to speak. It seems to be going well at first,
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But after a minute of BRIGHT LIGHT in his face, he winces and turns his face away.]
Ngh...shut that off...you'll make me go blind.
[And he weakly lifts his arm up and makes a swatting motion, like that's really going to make the bright light go away.]
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Yeah, you're welcome. [Dean grunts, rolling his eyes and flicking it off before shoving it back into his bag. He's got a pretty good idea where Kurt is below him, but it's a damn pity he doesn't have anyone else around to watch his back while he plays hero.]
It's me. Dean.
[He leans over the edge carefully, wondering if he's got enough rope for a drop this high.] You okay, princess? [Yeah, he can joke around at a time like this, particularly if he's stressed.] Any broken bones?
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[Wait...he squints up, now that the light is gone.]
...Dean?
[OH THANK GOD SOMEONE GOOD-LOOKING TO HELP HIM. But you know, Operation Pseudo-Damsel in Distress was never supposed to be this literal.
He pushes himself up on his palms, and while he's sore, he seems to be okay. And then slowly he'll force himself upright...and time to stand up- OW. Ow, his ankle, that was unpleasant...but he manages to get up, by leaning on a wall and not putting weight on his right foot, ahhh.]
I-I'm fine! [He sounds a little shaken, but he's clearly not dead!] Be careful! The floor is-
[...Strangely, the floor that broke under Kurt's weight is holding Dean up pretty well, without threatening to give away. Huh. ...That's weird.]
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[He frowns down into the hole, dropping his duffel bag and rummaging through it for the freakin' rope.]
Floor's fine up here. As long as you're okay-
[Dean hefts the rope out, moving to the nearest door and tying a knot around the handle, yanking on it to make sure it holds. He leans over the edge again.]
Can you make it climbing up a rope, or you want me to come and get you before another floor breaks? [He's not taking any chances, no fucking way.]
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...I think I can manage.
[He makes a grabbing gesture up at the- woah that's a lot higher up that he remembered. ...Anyway yeah, toss him the rope. This couldn't possibly go wrong, right?]
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Hey. If your arms get tired, lemme know and I'll pull ya, huh?
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[...Well, hopefully it won't be necessary. Kurt reaches and grabs the rope, and uses it to pull himself closer without actually walking on his bad ankle. Then, he ives it a tentative tug and looks up.
That's...really high.
But no, he already said he would. So he grabs on, and tries to pull himself up. It takes him a couple of extremely silly tries, but eventually he gets it and manages to awkwardly shimmy up about three feet. And he swings there for a second, because it's clearly harder than he thought it would be.
Oh wait. What's that?
Is that the rope fraying above him? ...Mm, yep. Pretty sure that's what it is. That's so weird though! It sure looked stronger than that! Kurt moves to start shimmying up the rope again, but it snaps not far up and he goes falling. Again.]
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What the-?
[There's a snapping sound, almost like a gunshot, and the rope breaks, lightening the weight considerably and sending him toppling back onto his ass.] Fuck.[Groaning, he rolls forward and peers over the edge again ( ... )
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[He rubs at his head though. He's fine, but everything ever hurts a little.] That doesn't even begin to describe it. My entire weekend has been like this. Granted, that was the first time the floor gave out on me - [He looks up at the hole] - but every few minutes or so I've fallen down or had chairs break while I was sitting in them. Things have practically jumped off of walls to smack me in the head! It's ridiculous and humiliating. It's like I've been cursed or something. I haven't gone ten minutes without gettin hurt in the last twenty hour hours!
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...cursed? Yeah, I know a little bit about that. My whole freaking family's cursed. [This is...a bit of a tender subject. It'd be best to move on.]
There's something weird going on. Everyone I ran into's got something wrong with 'em. I gotta mess of rabid dogs on my ass, for one, so we should start moving and find something you won't fall through. [Retrieving his flashlight and clicking it on again, he locates Kurt and offers him a hand up, giving him a cheeky grin.]
Sometime today would be nice, princess.
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You can stop calling me that now. It's not as cute as I'm sure you think it is.
[But fine, he'll come along. Limp along. Same thing, right?]
...Wait. Rabid dogs are after you?
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Yeah. More like Hellhounds, though. You don't have to worry - They only come after people who sold their souls and hafta give 'em up. [Dean shrugs as if this is some sort of normal occurrence. He won't explain unless asked, of course, like usual.
Switching his flashlight back on, he shines it into the surrounding darkness and makes a face, mumbling under his breath.] Now, which way to go...?
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[He sticks close though, content to go wherever Dean is leading him.] Either way would be fine. I've gone through this whole mansion twice now, and it hasn't made a difference.
[Though things are strangely good for now. Nothing's happened for a few minutes. Hmm...]
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...yeah, actually. Hellhounds. From Hell. It exists, did you know that? [Dean starts walking towards him, a funny look in his eyes.] Well it does. And that's where I'm headed. I don't even know if there's a Heaven ( ... )
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