26: [Action] Dazed and Confused

[dashboardlite]

[ Dean is only a little twitchy.  He never really feels like he needs things, but right now he's lacking.  Something.  Something big.  It's not starvation, because when he's hungry, he gets food.  When he wants sex, he finds Cas.  Dean doesn't get cravings because he's always well-fed.

But what he needs right now is people.

So Dean is wandering around the grounds for the most part, trying to locate the people he needs.  He could be in the parlour, fixing a drink.  He could be kicking at the edge of the hedge maze, contemplating going inside but unwilling to risk not being able to find his way out again without a bag of peanut M&Ms to leave as a trail guide.  He could even be in the kitchen, trying (and failing) to cook something to keep his mind off of everything.

He's that restless.

Good luck. ]

Comments

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[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

[Well that is the most fucking terrifying thing he has witnessed in days, thank you very much, well done. Dean finishes choking on his whiskey long enough to glare at the creeper questioningly.]

...the Hell do you want?

[He has the vaguest inkling that he's seen this guy before, but can't remember where.]

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[sunflowersunday.livejournal.com]

[ BREAAATTTHHHINNGGGG AGAINST THE GLASS. ]

Have a present! For Americans!

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[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

...yeah?

[Call him suspicious, but the dude with the Russian accent is kind of sketchy.]

What is it?

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[sunflowersunday.livejournal.com]

[ if the guy staring at you through a window sounds like a Bond villain, he probably is. ]

Would you like to see?

[ Opening up the entrance to the bag a bit. It's still hard to see wtf is in there. ]

Opening the window may help.

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[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

[Oh, he is not touching that shit with a fifty-foot pole.]

Whatcha got in there, Russki?

[Gotta hand it to Russia, though - he did select the most all-American guy here.]

If it's a nuclear weapon I think I'm gonna steer clear.

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[sunflowersunday.livejournal.com]

[ The creepy Dexter-esque smile broadens at being called Russki. So much hate so much beautiful hate. ]

No! Is good guess though.

[ He looks a little disappointed that it isn't a nuclear weapon, but quickly bounces back. ]

Would do you well to open window. Then you will not risk stepping on shards of glass.

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[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

[Open a window? What, is he crazy? Dean doesn't like the idea of glass in his hair, though.

He slinks over to said window and slides it up, stepping back warily.]

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[sunflowersunday.livejournal.com]

[ Russia is almost disappointed 8( He was really looking forward to bashing in the window.

Still he steps through, bag slung over his shoulder. IT'S JUST LIKE CHRISTMAS, DEAN ;w; (More like the Christmas with those freaky old people monsters who wanted to eat you.)

He grins at the wariness. ]

Why so cautious?

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[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

[You know what? Dean's dealt with pagan gods pretending to be the Anti-Claus, so he knows the deal here. Also you should never trust a large Russian even as far as you can throw him.

Which in this case wouldn't be very far at all.

Dean takes two steps back for every one step the Russki takes forward.]

'Cause you're kinda creepy, dude.

[Trigger finger...itching...]

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[sunflowersunday.livejournal.com]

[ god this is a million years late but it can not die. ]

"Creepy"? Am not sure what you mean! Only trying to bond with American house mates. Is that so wrong?

[ He pulls a harpoon out of the bag.

Yep. ]

( action; ) <333

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

[WHOA okay another big step back.]

...you wanna put the cutlery down, Captain Ahab?

[His gun is in the back of his pants. Don't make him use it.]

( action; ) <333333333333 ;w;

[sunflowersunday.livejournal.com]

First I have to deliver my present!

[ Don't worry, Dean. The harpoon isn't aimed at you. It's aimed at the ceiling!

Okay, now it's fired into the ceiling. Russia starts tugging on the rope connected to the harpoon (I'm sure there's a technical term for this but FUCK IT IT'S ROPE), hard enough so that parts of the ceiling falls away and caves in.

Amidst the dust and ruin and "why the shit did he just do that," there is Dean's present:

It's a shark.

A shark just fell through the ceiling and is now thrashing wildly in the room.

Russia just takes a few steps back towards the window again, waving happily. ]

You are welcome!

( action; ) So they need to interact more often, yes.

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

Holy Jesus Christ-!

[Dean exclaims in an incredibly put-together, eloquent manner as a motherfucking shark is yanked from the ceiling and onto the parlor floor. The force shakes the wood beneath his feet and he trips back, falling onto one of the coffee tables as the animal writhes around.]

The fuck, dude?!

[He scrambles off the table and over to the door, staring across the room to the window that the Russian just slipped out of.]

What the fuck?

[Yeah, definitely leaving now.

Never coming back.]

( action; ) awww yessss *w* AND ONE DAY I WILL NOT BE SLOW

[sunflowersunday.livejournal.com]

[ GRINNING LIKE A LUNATIC. He is so pleased Dean hates has such an excitable reaction from his gift. It almost warms Russia's cold, dead heart. But it doesn't. Because it just fell out of his chest.

He picks up up, carefully dusts it back off, and stuffs it back in his chest before calling after Dean. ]

Goodbye for now! Promise I shall not be a stranger!

[ And then he starts clamoring out the window because fuck doors, just fuck 'em. ]