Our Job is Hunting Evil

Cabin Fever | Open

Sam snagged a thick, clean rag from his kit and offered it to her, “I’d offer the similar to what my brother and I tended to use when we cleaned wounds but I doubt you’d appreciate it.” He commented as he looked at her wound and only her wound.

“You’re going to need stitches.” He told her, “Otherwise it’ll just keep bleeding.” He added as he glanced up at her, “Lucky for you, I know how to do those, too. Provided I’ve been stitching only myself up lately but at the very least I’m not rusty at it I suppose.”

Taking hold of the rag, Elise rose a defined brow at who she only knew as Sam at the moment. What would cause him to stitch up wounds on himself? He had a brother? Is the guy still even alive? Even more questions began to linger in her thirsted curiousity yet she allowed it to win. “You have a brother?” The woman questioned calmly, hesitant at first. Angering this man or causing him discomfort would not be in her favor.

However, what really had her concerned was the same as before. Why so many wounds to stitch? Why didn’t they go to the hospital? Her instinct was to immediately think worst case scenario, but she rested her trust with this Sam…reluctantly.

#Cabin Fever #main verse #awitchandthewinchesters

“Yeah, he’s somewhere across the country right now with a friend of ours.” He explained, shrugging, “So its just me right now. Anyway, let me get these cleaned up and we’ll see how many stitches you’re going to get the pleasure of having.” He told her as he retrieved his first rag and flipped open the top to the rubbing alcohol.

“I might have something you can change into if you want to get cleaned up after I’ve cleaned your wounds. I’m not going to promise it will be something glamorous but it’ll be clean at the very least and I can give your clothes a wash. Even torn up, I’m usually partial to my own clothes.” He commented.

Quiet Fall | Open

“Didn’t your parents ever tell you about the boogeyman?” Sam blurted out curiously. He knew the kid was probably old enough that his parents didn’t tell him scary stories anymore. Especially once he was a bit more in the light, he wasn’t as young as he’d previously seemed.

Sam sighed, “Sometimes its more dangerous out in the woods than everyone thinks. No matter how careful you are.” He explained, reaching for his bag and retrieving the bag of marshmallows he’d tossed there a while previously. His other hand went to the metal roasting sticks he’d brought with him on a lark. Really if he was going to enjoy the cool weather he might as well indulge.

He shoved a couple of the fluffy sugary treats onto the stick and settled them close to the coals in the fire, “Haven’t you ever seen something you can’t explain? Something that made you think you’d dreamed it?”

williamhamish

Will raised a brow at the reference to childish scary stories. He was far beyond that. He continued to stay by the edge of the camp, not wanting to step past his welcome.

The man seemed like an expert, or at least like he considered himself to be, on what all went on in the forest. A bit of a know-it-all, he seemed, in William’s opinion.

Eyes narrowing in thought, head tilting slightly at the spoken questions and Will ended up giving a simple shrug. “Haven’t we all – one time ‘r another?”

“Nothing so strange that its kept you out of the dark.” He commented as he turned his marshmallow to brown the other side.

“What do you expect to be photographing out in the dark, anyway? Surely there’s nothing so interesting out here. I was always more interested in sleeping at this hour than slogging around in the cold and dark.” Sam questioned curiously as he checked his sweet, squinting at the evenness of the browning and then sticking it back over the coals again.

“Want a marshmallow?”

williamhamish

“There’s all sorts of things one can capture at night. If you know what to look for.” he answered simply, feeling more welcome to step closer. He made his way to a log near the other, taking a seat. Then a nod at the offered sweet, scanning the ground for a good stick to roast it with.

“What’re you doin’ out here, then? Not the most usual place for a campout.” he pointed out to the other.

#quiet fall #williamhamish #main verse

“Very well, you’d certainly know better than I would. I don’t tend to carry around a camera so I’ll believe the one who’s got one now at any rate.” He commented, offering a bit of a smile to the younger man.

“To your left, there’s a decent stick there.” He pointed out, retrieving the bag of marshmallows and plopping it on the ground between them so that either of them could reach them.

“I’ve been driving for a while, couple of days at this point really. I didn’t really want to find a motel for the night and its still warm enough out to sit here by a nice warm fire and enjoy the stars for a while. My car’s out by the road, if it gets too cold I’ll go crash in the car but impromptu campout seemed like a good idea. Didn’t think I’d meet anyone else.” He explained offering a shrug as he took his marshmallow out of the heat once more, deciding it was done and unceremoniously taking a large bite of the hot treat.

Of course that was like liquid magma on his tongue and a small noise escaped him as he realized what’d he’d just done. He didn’t need those tastebuds anyway.

Recurrence || Closed

“Responsible.” He snorted and then shrugged. He couldn’t really complain considering he’d been the one that had been showing her more defensive skills in driving. Especially those more reckless things that had saved him and Dean’s lives more times than he could count. There was a reason there was a beater car stored in the unattached garage.

“We’ll get you your license. Permits are lame anyway. No real help unless you’ve got someone to drive with you. Might as well just take the test once and get it done with honestly.” He told her as he climbed into the passenger seat and buckled his seatbelt.

“Yeah, I am,” Em insisted as she buckled up and turned on the ignition. “I’m a very responsible driver.”

The girl beamed.

“You’re awesome. Have I told you that lately? Because you are.”

#recurrence #main verse #Offbrand Chex #dimmockrp

“Alright, alright, miss responsible, let’s get to the shelter.” He laughed, waving a hand in a shooing motion toward the road.

“What because I want to use you as my personal driver?” He teased, “Its about time that I don’t have to drive your butt to the store every single time you finished all the regular Chex and start your complaining about mine.” He told her with a grin.

A Birthday Gift.

Sam grinned and turned the doorknob, nudging the door open far enough that the dog got the hint. The large lumbering pup flounced his big grey body into the room and immediately zeroed in on ‘noise making lump!’ and leapt bodily onto the bed. His large nose snuffling at the blankets as his tail wagged at roughly the speed of light.

A laugh came from the doorway. Really the giant dane took up most of the bed with his body and he had decided to flop down on top of Em, wiggling as he tried to figure out how to get under the blanket to lick her face. Sam had really come to enjoy mornings like these because of the struggle of the grey harlequin dane to get under Em’s blankets.

Em squawked as she felt the enormous dog’s weight on top of her, and she tried to squirm out from under him.

“GEDOFF, GIGANTOR!” Em insisted, though she knew it was in vain.

Eventually she let the dog come under the covers and lick her, though she made sure to glare plenty at Sam.

“Why’re you waking me up so goddamn early anyway?” she groaned.

#A birthday gift #Offbrand Chex #main verse #dimmockrp

“Well I mean if you don’t want breakfast before we have to get going for the day then you can suffer.” He huffed, shrugging. Keeping a secret from the girl was difficult because really all he wanted to do was blurt out that they were having cake for breakfast.

Really he wanted to see the look on her face when she got her gift too but that would come a bit later.

“C’mere Gideon. She certainly doesn’t need a shower from you.” He laughed, snapping his fingers. The pup was still learning but that was one thing he knew. Clicking fingers meant come here and he was happy to do so cause it usually meant scratches. The giant wriggling ball of fur squirmed his way off of Em’s bed to lean his giant frame against Sam’s frame.

“So what do you say? Food or sleep?”

//GOOD NEWS EVERYONE

*cough*

I got locked out of this account. I think an ex friend decided to screw with me and lock me out of the accounts she knows as some form of petty revenge. Looks like nothing got changed too badly. I have backups of my theme and stuff like that. Unfortunately all my asks have been deleted except for the hate mail! Greeeeeaaaaat.

But I’m back and I’ve gotten everything back to normal and sorted it seems.

Sorry about that.

#good thing my spock account is so far removed password and e-mail wise from my normal stuff.#I mean shit #how rude #ooc

//Apparently my drafts disappeared?? Uhm. Like if I owe please?

#god damnit #ooc

Cabin Fever | Open

Sam gazed out the door for a moment and breathed in the humid air, glaring out into the yard, “Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin.” He huffed softly as he closed the door and tucked his gun into the waistband of his pants. Throwing the locks back into place, he bumped the drawer fully closed again with his hip and turned into the house.

He headed into the living room where his kit was still spread over the coffee table along with a mug of coffee that was likely cold. He glanced toward her, “You at least going to give me something to call you instead of ‘Hey, you’?” He asked as he sorted through the medical items on his table.

“…Elise.” She furrowed her brows at his rather…straight forward attitude, concerned that she might have found shelter at a wrong place as her tone dropped. It didn’t take a split second for her to realize he was concealing his weapon in the thin waist line of his pants. Perfect. There was a monsterous thing chasing after her, she’s in the middle of no where, and now he has a weapon.

Normally she’d get out of a situation like this easily. But two obstacles stood; there was that thing out there and he was huge as hell. Intimidated by both his build and weapon, Elise remained silent, eyes taking sudden interest in the creeky flooring below her and the seat.

Sam felt her eyes sweep over him and he knew she likely noticed the imprint of his weapon. He hadn’t tried to hide it, necessarily. He had no intention of using it on her anyway. Silver didn’t do enough damage to warrant it and they were expensive bullets too. He didn’t even know if the silver did any damage to the creature but usually anything wolfen was a good bet to load with silver just in case.

“Sam.” He returned as he stood straight, looking up to see her change from panic to quiet. With a huff he retrieved the weapon and very deliberately dropped the mag and set it onto the table with a small clatter. He then cleared the chamber with a distinct slide rack, catching the bullet in his palm. He then set the empty gun itself on the mantel above the fireplace to his right and thumbed the round back into the magazine and set that on the table to the left of his medical kit.

“How much of the gore on you is blood and if the answer is some, are you bleeding badly and from where?” He asked as he dug out a clean cloth and a bottle of water. He wet the rag some and then offered her the rag and the open bottle of water, “Drink what you don’t use to wet the cloth to wipe off some of the mud.”

“My back and arm. The thing clawed me pretty deep, and uh…thanks.” Hesitant with his blunt actions of unloading his weapon, she politely took the bottle bringing it up to her plush lips. For a brief moment her eyes never left those mysterious Hazel pair of the other, in fact the intimidation was considerably intriguing.

“So do you always pack heat like that, Sam?” She questioned before finally taking a swig of the refreshing liquid, her senses numbing back to a normal state when Hydration had returned. Maybe he was a cop or a fed, who knew. All Elise could say was; Thank god she in here and not out there.

Sam took another clean rag from the kit and some rubbing alcohol and moved closer to her, “You’ll have to shift to let me see.” He told her, “And uh, you’ll probably have to take your shirt off.” He added, reddening slightly, clearly uncomfortable with needing to request it but really the fabric was only going to be in the way and he needed to clean her wounds.

“Generally speaking I always have something close at hand, honestly. Its just something that happens when you’re in my line of work.” He explained, crouching down next to the chair she sat in so that he could look at her wounds, “How far did that thing chase you?” He asked, curious as to why it had chased her and how far it had wandered before she had led it back to him.

At his suggestion, her shirt was carefully peeled off from her wounded form, earning a small wince from her lips when the cold brisk air brushed against the main injuries. “Not to far. I was just on the trail…” Setting it to the side, her eyes met his own in a quick glance before they were snatched of their attention by his blushing features. It only brought a smile to her lips. So far she only thought his emotional features were serious, irritated, or exhausted; plus it was a little amusing to witness his adorable embarrassment. Though seeing the rubbing alcohol, she could only assume the irritable pain that was to come. “You got something I can bite down on when you start cleanin’? I just know it’s gonna hurt is all.”

#cabin fever #main verse #awitchandthewinchesters

Sam snagged a thick, clean rag from his kit and offered it to her, “I’d offer the similar to what my brother and I tended to use when we cleaned wounds but I doubt you’d appreciate it.” He commented as he looked at her wound and only her wound.

“You’re going to need stitches.” He told her, “Otherwise it’ll just keep bleeding.” He added as he glanced up at her, “Lucky for you, I know how to do those, too. Provided I’ve been stitching only myself up lately but at the very least I’m not rusty at it I suppose.”

thelogicalhybrid

//Hi guys. I know I keep promising to do stuff and having excuses for why I haven’t and I’m about to give you another one unfortunately.

I just found out some extremely shitty information on Saturday. I found it that my ex had been cheating on me. For five months. Not only cheating but telling me some pretty big lies as well. I’ve been an absolute wreck for no real reason. This shouldn’t bother me as much as it has been honestly. It actually explains a whole lot.

At any rate, that’s my excuse. Outright sobbing makes it difficult to write replies and channeling Spock and the others is downright impossible. Sorry.

#ooc #I can't deal with my emotions right now #I can't deal with anything right now.

//This applies here too. Again, I’m sorry.

Recurrence || Closed

Sam laughed again at her and tossed the keys at her, “Who could resist that face.” He teased, tucking the gun into the holster he’d taken to wearing instead of shoving the firearm into his waistband.

“Just don’t get the police on our asses, okay? Cause if I go to jail for allowing an underage non permitted driver, drive, you don’t get your dog.” He pointed out, lifting his brows as he shoved his hair out of his face.

“I love you,” she said, beaming up at him as she jogged over to the car. “I won’t! I’m a responsible driver, remember?”

She stuck her tongue out and climbed into the car. “And I’m turning 16 soon! I’m old enough to have a permit!”

#recurrence #dimmockrp #Offbrand Chex

“Responsible.” He snorted and then shrugged. He couldn’t really complain considering he’d been the one that had been showing her more defensive skills in driving. Especially those more reckless things that had saved him and Dean’s lives more times than he could count. There was a reason there was a beater car stored in the unattached garage.

“We’ll get you your license. Permits are lame anyway. No real help unless you’ve got someone to drive with you. Might as well just take the test once and get it done with honestly.” He told her as he climbed into the passenger seat and buckled his seatbelt.

A Birthday Gift.

stanfordwinchester

An alert popped up on Sam’s phone in the early hours of the morning and he stared blearily at it for a minute before the words finally processed through his sleep addled brain. Of course that provoked other natural ‘startled’ reaction and he quite literally fell out of bed as he scrambled to get his lanky limbs out of his blankets.

It didn’t help that apparently the dog had decided at some point that Sam’s bed was the ideal place to become a starfish rather than a canine and Sam wasn’t precisely on the bed that well to begin with. He offered a brief glare to the creature and got a grumble as a response.

He padded his way downstairs and quickly retrieved a few things he’d prepared in advance and set them out including a small box with a bow. That finished he practically bounced his way back up the stairs much to the dog’s enjoyment as the beast decided to jump on him. He quickly side stepped and headed for Em’s room. Knocking annoyingly on the door he called,

“Em. Eeeeeem. Emmmmm. Come on. We have things to do today. You need to be up.”

Em was enjoying sleeping in when Sam knocked on her door. Groaning, she pulled the blankets up over her head, knowing that the dog would come in any time now and try to lick her to death.

“Noooooooo!” she moaned tiredly, her voice muffled by the blankets. “I dun’ wanna!”