[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.]
Action
Date: 2010-10-31 06:45 am (UTC)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.]