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dashboardliteAs he stands there, staring, Dean Winchester wonders why he's never noticed this door before. It's not anything normal, by any stretch - it's just a huge door; tall, foreboding, made of something that looks like solid oak. He hasn't touched it yet, he's simply been waiting. Waiting for it to open, waiting for someone to go in or come out.
It doesn't even have hinges or a knob or a lock, but he knows it's a door, and not some giant slab in the middle of the foyer.
Without dragging his eyes away, Dean slips a hand into the pocket of his coat, pulling out the comm unit he'd warped into an EMF reader. Something this big and unexpected had to have a spike off the charts. Switching the device on with a little click, he takes careful, precise steps towards the door, holding his electro-magnetic-frequency measurer up to the offending object - He really shouldn't be feeling like a gorilla out of 2001: A Space Odyssey right now, but he does - and his eyebrows shoot into his hairline as the EMF lights up and squeals, obnoxious beeping echoing through the front hall.
"...sonuvabitch," He mutters, tucking his little invention away and running his fingers over smooth wood. "We chased our pleasures, here...dug our treasures, there, but can you still recall..." Dean hums quiety, squinting at the grain and scratching a fingernail over it, half-expecting sulfur to come away.
"...the time we cried...break on through, to the other side, break on through, to the other side..."
It doesn't even have hinges or a knob or a lock, but he knows it's a door, and not some giant slab in the middle of the foyer.
Without dragging his eyes away, Dean slips a hand into the pocket of his coat, pulling out the comm unit he'd warped into an EMF reader. Something this big and unexpected had to have a spike off the charts. Switching the device on with a little click, he takes careful, precise steps towards the door, holding his electro-magnetic-frequency measurer up to the offending object - He really shouldn't be feeling like a gorilla out of 2001: A Space Odyssey right now, but he does - and his eyebrows shoot into his hairline as the EMF lights up and squeals, obnoxious beeping echoing through the front hall.
"...sonuvabitch," He mutters, tucking his little invention away and running his fingers over smooth wood. "We chased our pleasures, here...dug our treasures, there, but can you still recall..." Dean hums quiety, squinting at the grain and scratching a fingernail over it, half-expecting sulfur to come away.
"...the time we cried...break on through, to the other side, break on through, to the other side..."
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[Action]
Date: 2010-11-23 04:07 am (UTC)"...right, well, get your kicks somewhere else, buddy. I don't have time for your two-bit, wannabe-spirit ass."
[Action]
Date: 2010-11-23 04:35 am (UTC)[Action]
Date: 2010-11-23 05:26 am (UTC)"...I dunno, man. You're just gonna push until you find out, so maybe I'll let it be a surprise, hunh?"
Shrugging, he turns back to the door and smoothes one hand over it again, frowning.
It's like the whole world is intent on keeping him from this door.
Why?
[Action]
Date: 2010-11-23 12:29 pm (UTC)Better be careful, shouldn't I? Wouldn't wanna get on yer bad side...
[Oh, he couldn't. He wouldn't. ...Why yes, he'll be more of a prick just to make your day better, Dean. And he'll start by approaching you casually like he wasn't the soul eating hollow he was~ ...Well, maybe just a little.]
Whatcha got there~?
[Action]
Date: 2010-11-23 03:13 pm (UTC)"A bomb," Dean lies glibly, no trace denying as such on his face. "Gonna blow this fuckin' door sky high and see where that gets us."
Or ram it down your smug throat, you irritating prick.
[Action]
Date: 2010-11-23 11:07 pm (UTC)A bomb, hmm~? And why do ya think that sounds like a great idea?
[Action]
Date: 2010-11-24 05:13 am (UTC)[Action]
Date: 2010-11-24 05:18 am (UTC)[There isn't a violent implication in his words. He's completely harmless. Honestly.]
[Action]
Date: 2010-11-25 02:59 pm (UTC)[Dean fiddles with the switches on his EMF to make it look as though he's punching in the settings for a time bomb. Hey - No one said he couldn't be a shithead.]
[Action]
Date: 2010-11-26 01:08 am (UTC)Lemme see that. Ya don't mind, do ya?
[He grabs at the EMF. If he does manage to get it he won't have one shred of sympathy for Dean if he accidentally crushes his fingers on the way by.]
[Action]
Date: 2010-11-27 07:00 pm (UTC)Before he can stop the other, his fingers are sore and the asshole has his EMF. His comm unit, by default. Ignoring the twinge of pain - this dick was a strong motherfucker - Dean curls one hand into a fist and holds the other one out.
"Gimme that back, asshole."
If looks could kill, the guy would be dead already.
[Action]
Date: 2010-11-27 07:21 pm (UTC)Say please~
[Action]
Date: 2010-11-27 07:43 pm (UTC)The fingers on his free hand twitch, and he seriously considers reaching for his gun. It took a fuck-long time to get the comm unit to double as a ghost-hunting magnet and he doesn't want to make another.
[Action]
Date: 2010-11-27 08:02 pm (UTC)[He starts closing his hand around the EMF, putting pressure on it to slowly break it.]
[Action]
Date: 2010-11-27 09:54 pm (UTC)"Put it down."
At point-blank range, there's no way he could possibly miss. With all these people around, though, Dean isn't exactly sure what kinda rep he wants as 'the guy who shot someone else in the face.'
"Yeah, you think you're real funny now, screwin' around with shit you don't understand." A tight smile on his face, Dean shakes his head. "Just give it back and I'll stop thinkin' about giving you another hole to breathe through."
[Action]
Date: 2010-11-27 10:42 pm (UTC)[With a feral grin the hollow uses his free hand to grab Dean's wrist and force it up, moving close enough to get right in the other's face. Whatever personal space one thought he had is now gone.]
Take yer human toys and fuck off. I might decide to eat ya now rather than save ya for later.
[Action]
Date: 2010-11-28 01:55 am (UTC)Dean grits his teeth and grunts as his arm is jerked upwards, and the hunter glares daggers at the yellow-eyed-
Holy fuck.
The Yellow-Eyed Demon.
He hadn't noticed until he was this close, inches away, from this spiky-haired kid with yellow eyes. He doesn't talk like the demon that he and his brother had spent more than a year hunting, more than ten years for his father...but he's here. He's back. And thanks to a past full of hauntings by this singular asshole Dean couldn't care less whether or not the man gripping his forearm is really the demon Azazel.
He's just pissed.
"Azazel," He growls darkly, not realizing his mistake. "You sonuvabitch, I killed you. Eat me?" Dean's laughter is cutting and bitter. "Yeah, that's rich. Why don't you let me go so I can find another way to kill you? Again."
[Action]
Date: 2010-11-28 02:09 am (UTC)[What the fuck? Last thing the hollow checked he didn't have a name, let alone something weird like Azazel of all things. And killing? Maybe Dean's brain finally broke and he went insane. This was the first time he's run into the human!
After looking confused for a brief moment he grins and starts cackling. This was too much but he doesn't let go. He still wants to have some fun with this one; insane or not.]
Who the fuck is this Azazel bastard yer goin' on about?
[Action]
Date: 2010-11-28 03:19 am (UTC)For a split second there's something skin to complete, utter confusion in the other's goddamn smug yellow eyes. It's not a moment long enough for Dean to care, particularly when the asshole starts running his mouth again.
Jesus, he's gonna rip the guy's lungs out, that laugh is so irritating.
But his words give Dean pause.
"...what the fu-? You're shitting me, right? You know damn well, ya ass-ugly douchebag! Killed mom, then dad, then fucked around with my brother's head to open your stupid Gate to Hell!"
He's practically spitting, he's so mad. Risking the strain to his arm, Dean wrenches them downward enough to distract the other's attention before butting heads with the other, hard.
[Action]
Date: 2010-11-28 04:06 am (UTC)Sounds like fun!
[Action]
Date: 2010-11-28 06:15 am (UTC)"You sorry sonuvabitch, you're gonna be lucky if you get outta here breathing after fucking up my comm!"
[Action]
Date: 2010-11-29 02:20 am (UTC)[The hollow giggles--can't forget that the other is taking up his door time--as he uses his flash step ability to increase his speed, looking like he disappears before he stops behind the other and aims a kick at Dean's back.]
[Action]
Date: 2010-11-29 09:54 pm (UTC)"Fuc-"
He can hardly get the curse out of his mouth before a well-place foot jabs him in the lower back and he stumbles to the ground on his hands and knees, left palm digging into the sharp remains of his EMF. The metal cuts deep and Dean can smell the coppery tang of blood.
"Sonuvabitch!"
Back still screaming in protest, Dean rolls over and fumbles for his gun, gritting his teeth and cocking it. He takes aim at the fucker's shoulder and pulls the trigger.
[Action]
Date: 2010-12-02 05:03 am (UTC)Aw look, ain'tcha so proud? Ya got me.
[Action] - Sorry for the lateness. Life is kicking my butt atm.
Date: 2010-12-05 11:26 pm (UTC)"Stop flash-dancing, Jennifer Beals," Dean growls, dragging the back of his hand over his lower lip and looking down at it. Crimson stained his skin.
This thing could kill him.
"What the fuck are you?!" Spitting blood onto the floor and dragging himself to his knees, Desert Eagle cocked and aimed at the bitch's head, Dean's mouth twists in a snarl.
He certainly isn't the type to give up easily.
[Action] - Pfft no worries. I'm always late cause...I have no excuse.
From:[Action] - Pfft no worries. I'm always late cause...I have no excuse.
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