Action

Date: 2010-10-31 06:45 am (UTC)
[He's starting to get the impression that they don't know each other so well after all, and it's fucking HILARIOUS.]

Chill out, guys.

[Laughing quietly, feeling remarkably free despite being trapped in this house. He hasn't felt the crushing weight of his inevitable drag to Hell touching him this entire time...interesting.]

And I won't argue with that. [Dean nods appreciatively at Santana's uniform, and no he is not getting distracted by legs. Clearing his throat and shoving his free hand into his jacket pocket, the older man smiles back before carrying on to explain the contents of his portable "arsenal".]

Put a line of salt in front of doors and windows to keep shit out. Iron hurts them; we use shotgun-rounds filled with rock-salt. Holy water. Silver knives. Hex bags from hoodoo aficionados. Standard stuff. We're just regular Rambos in a modern jungle.

[Figures that, by now, if they aren't running away screaming it's a goddamn miracle. Kids these days must watch too much crime drama and not enough Casa Erotica.]
This account has disabled anonymous posting.
If you don't have an account you can create one now.
HTML doesn't work in the subject.
More info about formatting

Profile

dashboardlite: (Default)
Dean Winchester

January 2020

S M T W T F S
   1234
567891011
12131415161718
1920212223 2425
262728293031 

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Mar. 16th, 2026 03:16 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios