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Post by Dean Winchester on Aug 22, 2013 16:50:27 GMT -5
ooc: This song (the thread title, people...) has been stuck in my head on and off for the past couple weeks. So I'ma gonna use it. Thinkin' this thread will probably lead into a story line with Eve and Zane, but whatever! bic: Bobby's Home"I just don't feel like I've killed anything lately," Dean was saying. He sat in Bobby Singer's living room. Not that anyone would've immediately labeled it as a 'living room' on first glance. The old hunter's room was a mess. Stacks of books stood against walls or in the middle of the floor in front of the desk so that you had to maneuver carefully around them to get to it. The desk itself, as well as the coffee table and the floor by the couch, was covered with dishes, plates, mugs, and bottles. Newspapers and handwritten notes were scattered in what seemed to anyone but Bobby to be a random pattern. And yet to Dean it felt homey; familiar in its clutter and cozy in its mess. From his place behind the desk, Bobby lifted his head to look at the young man. "I thought you and Sam were pretty full up on jobs for a while," Bobby said. Dean made a derisive noise and leaned back on the old couch, propping his mud covered boots on an empty spot on the coffee table. "Seems like every hunt we've been on lately either turns out either not to be a hunt or Sam finds some reason not to kill the thing." Dean pointed a finger at the window, indicating a direction or place that was simply elsewhere. "Remember that vamp nest in Montana?" "The one that wasn't eating people? Yeah, I remember. It's not something you forget. Pretty unbelievable." "Don't I know it," Dean said grumpily. He took a swig from a bottle. "Everything's all screwed up now. Gimme a demon! There's no gray area there. Demons are evil hellish bastards. End of." Bobby scowled. "I think you boys have reached your demon quota. Between the yellow-eyed demon and that black-eyed one you let go-" "We did not 'let it go', Bobby," Dean shot back. "Damn thing took a knife and an arrow to the chest and brushed off two exorcisms, then pulled a Houdini. Woulda thought we'd have heard from that one again considering its pledges for our heads and all that cliche bad guy stuff." "Why did it leave anyway?" Bobby asked. As Dean gave him a look, he added, "Not that I'm not glad it did, but it did kinda have you all by the short and curlies. You may have walked away from that, but it doesn't exactly bode well, if you know what I mean." Dean said nothing, but his look said he did. It had been odd, but all that meant was that they'd have to be extra ready for whatever Amaza-something threw their way if and when it did show up again. Dean took another slug from his bottle and picked up a newspaper to search for 'their kind of thing'. Or maybe to read the funnies.
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Post by Sam Winchester on Aug 26, 2013 14:42:17 GMT -5
Sam was standing in the middle of the junkyard, staring at nothing again. Anyone observing him in the past several weeks would've said that it was a common habit of his, but Sam? Sam barely noticed. He was too busy focusing on the voices rolling through his head.
"He said I might have to kill you, Sammy."
It wasn't exactly the last words a kid wanted said about him by his father. Sam felt sick again every time the words (stuck on a never-ending spin-cycle through his brain since Dean had told him) found their way to the forefront again. And what was worse, there was no way his dad would say something like that, would lay that burden on Dean, if he didn't think it was absolutely necessary. What was Sam going to become? What were his psychic powers leading to, what plans did Yellow Eyes have for him, that might end with Sam doing something so awful that Dean might be forced to pull the trigger and put him out of his misery?
Sam didn't want to believe that just having these powers sealed his fate. Yes, some of the other Specials had gone wrong, or gone missing, or been used in dark rituals to raise a demon from the pits of hell, but that didn't mean it was his fate to do the same... right?
Lenore and the other vampires had given Sam some hope. If they could ignore their darker instincts, maybe not all monsters and supernatural creatures had to be evil. ...But there was a knot of worry taking hold in Sam's brain that maybe the fight was futile. Maybe the vampires would stay good for a while before giving in to their instincts after all. Maybe Sam would, eventually. The image of a petite brunette, claiming with absolute sincerity that she could repress the werewolf inside her, sometimes flitted through Sam's brain when he was feeling particularly doubtful. The last time he'd seen Eve, she'd been feral and snarling, trying to bite Kasen's leg off.
The rumble of a passing car dragged Sam from his muddled thoughts. He shook his head and turned back toward house. Shoving the door open, he caught sight of Dean reading through a newspaper.
"We got a new case?" He both wanted one and wanted to avoid one. Another monster to kill, another proof that anything supernatural was evil. But at least it would get his mind off Dad's words for a little while.
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Post by Dean Winchester on Aug 26, 2013 17:21:08 GMT -5
Dean barely glanced up from the paper when Sam came in. Things had been tense lately and making eye contact with Sam meant seeing how bad his brother was hurting. Dean was mad at himself for telling him, mad that he hadn't told him sooner, mad that their dad had gone and left Dean with such a cryptic and terrible warning. Furious that the reason their dad wasn't around to explain himself was because Dean hadn't been strong enough on his own.
Without missing a beat, Dean grinned, his eyes still on what he'd been reading, and replied, "Oh yeah, found a good one, Sammy." He folded up the section he'd been looking at so the pages'd stay together better and tossed the funnies to his brother.
"Apparently Garfield is convinced Odie's been turned into some sort of hell-spawn. Mighta got something from the mailman. I think we should check it out. Bet he could pay too, considering he's famous and all."
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Post by Sam Winchester on Aug 29, 2013 1:13:02 GMT -5
Sam flitted an exasperated look toward Bobby, who shrugged his shoulders in a "don't blame me, he's your brother" gesture before going back to whatever he was researching. There were notes everywhere in the room - notes on old cases, cases other Hunters were working on (other Hunters, Sam still had a hard time wrapping his head around that one. He'd known some existed, but he'd had no idea about the kind of complex network of them that ran through the Roadhouse), notes on potential cases to keep an eye on, and random notes on demonology and the supernatural in general. It was all a little overwhelming, just seeing the sheer amount that he didn't know, that might help him, might save their lives one day if he just had the time to learn it.
And he'd wasted three years studying law at Stanford; he should've been researching up on monsters and supernatural protections.
A little delayed, Sam ran a hand through his hair and replied, "Yeah, but he'd probably just pay up in lasagna or something, right?" before picking his way across the room and settling down in "his corner," grabbing an old journal some Hunter had spent years researching and recording all known demons in. Maybe there was something in here he'd missed that might lead to Yellow Eyes or the black eyed demon that had possessed Jonas.
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Post by Dean Winchester on Aug 29, 2013 22:38:26 GMT -5
Mmm, lasagna. That sounded good. "Fine by me," Dean responded as Sam sat down. "You know we could use a decent home-cooked meal. No offense, Bobby, but -"
The ringing of the house phone interrupted him and Dean stopped mid-sentence as the old hunter cast him a glare before picking up. By the time Bobby greeted whoever was on the other end, Dean had forgotten his original train of thought. Bobby didn't get a ton of calls and when he did they weren't often from friends or family just wanted to chat about their day. Dean found himself hoping it was a job. Someone with some info on a creepy-crawly-hides-under-your-bed good old-fashioned monster that needed putting down. That would cheer him and Sam up in no time.
Bobby caught Dean watching eagerly and he shook his head. Not a hunt then.
Dean sighed and grabbed up another newspaper, half expecting a hunt to show up before his eyes. That happened sometimes. One door closed and another opened... or something like that. But not today. The doors all stayed firmly shut. No werewolf sightings or torn up bodies or anything exciting like that. Just politics and oil and politics and the old granny who got an award for being the best ... old person... Dean didn't read enough of that one to grasp the topic. As Bobby continued talking with whoever was tying up the line from actual, important calls, Dean tossed the paper aside and picked up another paper. about five pages in, he found something that made him sit up.
"Hey, check this out. There's been a rash of murders in Mississippi. People randomly attacking and killing family members or friends. The murderers all claim similar things: that they don't know why they did it, that they were just suddenly filled with inexplicable rages, and that they remember seeing some sort of evil shadow not long before they went all psycho." Dean skimmed through the article a few more times before looking up at Sam. "What do you think? Somethin' bad in the water or something a little more supernatural?"
He pondered a moment as a list of possibilities went through his head. "Could be a shade, maybe. Or a really pissed off spirit transferring some major anger to these guys and making them flip out."
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Post by Sam Winchester on Sept 3, 2013 0:26:48 GMT -5
Sam closed the journal and leaned forward, watching Dean skim the article.
"Evil shadows?" The thought sent a shiver through him, though it took him a second to track why. "Like... maybe the daeva Meg summoned last spring?" Those things had been nasty and indiscriminately violent, though they killed on their own instead of forcing others' hands. Maybe these suspects hadn't murdered their loved ones after all, maybe the ancient shadow demons had appeared and torn them up, and the loved ones were just being framed. Of course, the Zoroastrian shadows weren't exactly native to the area; obscure, ancient and far more common in the Middle East, Meg'd had to summon them and bind them when they'd shown up last time. Which meant if it was them this time around, Meg or the Yellow Eyed Demon might be involved again.
It was a thin, unlikely thread. Chances were it was something more along the lines of what Dean had said - an angry ghost or some kind of dark magic. Either way, it was definitely their kind of thing.
"I'll get some stuff together, we can be on our way in an hour."
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Post by Dean Winchester on Sept 7, 2013 17:45:07 GMT -5
Dean made a displeased face at the the thought of the daevas and Meg. The daevas had been tough enough to deal with last time, but at least this time they would know a little more about them. And if they were involved, would Meg be behind it again? She'd taken possession of Sam not too long ago and the fact that she had escaped meant she could still be lurking somewhere, readying to strike out at the Winchesters yet again.
Not enough information at the moment, Dean supposed as Sam got up to get things ready for the road. Dean looked to Bobby who nodded at him.
"You boys be careful, ok?"
Dean gave him a winning smile. "Always are!"
The old Hunter rolled his eyes. "Right. Make sure you take that book on the shelf about non-corporeal creatures. Those are the ones that tend to play with people's heads. Mostly 'cause they can't do much else," he said, pointing to a bookcase. "And there's another in there about Southeastern mythology in the States. Could be useful."
After a bit of digging, Dean found what he was talking about. "Thanks, Bobby." And he headed out to put some of his own stuff together.
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