#cassandra 1

[forsakenpumpkin]

To: [random contact(s)] From: Thebestmaster

[txt] > hello! i’m taking a survey.

[txt] > what’s your greatest fear?

[abel-costello]

@cassandra-costello​

Date: Sometime 2011 ( half past two in the morning ) Location: Costello Main Residence

“How did they find out?” Cold, blue eyes stared ahead. His voice was calm, soothing even as he waited for a response; Abel Costello never raised his voice, he never needed it.

“I- I dunno, they were waiting for Gio and we barely got out ourselves--”

“So you left him?”

Abel was dumbfounded, and much like his aunt’s passing, Gio Costello getting caught by the police with an obscene amount of contraband was an improbable scenario. His father wasn’t sloppy and Abel was a testament of the man’s thoroughness. And yet Gio was currently in the possession of the FBI, no doubt licking their lips at the big fish that they just caught.

“Abel...” the man began to plead but the rest of his words turned into garbled screams. Abel kicked the lowly soldier, the sole of his boot connecting with the man’s mouth; a few pieces of teeth flew and scattered as large drops of crimson stained the marble floor. 

Abel didn’t cease stomping on the man’s face until it was unrecognizable.

Bits of soft flesh clung to his shoes and blood splattered on his clothes, with some reaching his face; Abel wiped his cheek with the back of his hand before unlacing his boots. He stripped off his shirt and jeans, tossing them beside the body before making his way to the bathroom.

He spent an hour or so just standing under the running water.

By the time he got out, clothes were waiting for him and he slowly put them on. His limbs felt heavy and for the first time in a very long time, he was utterly lost. Gio had been a constant in his life for better or worse, and while the man was never much of a father, Abel owed it all to him. He should have been there, but the old man was too damn proud to ever ask his own son for anything that by the time Abel returned, shit had hit the fan.

Abel went downstairs, the body was gone but the men were still busy scrubbing the blood splatters. He found Cassandra watching the clean up and the blonde was uncharacteristically rude to the Costello matriarch for the very first time.

“I can take care of it,” he remarked. “Why don’t you stick your nose elsewhere?”

[dmnwinchester-blog]

@idontkill

Today’s a good day to kill, he thinks, and this city is just filled to the brim with randos that’ll do the trick.

It’s late at night, and he’s in one of the sketchier districts. He’s learned pretty quickly which parts of this city are gonna be his home turf, and which parts he isn’t gonna touch, not even with a mile-long pole.

The wooden sword he has sucks, and is nothing at all like the way the First Blade felt in his hands, but it’ll do the trick. He’s Dean. He could kill someone with his bare hands if he wanted to.

He’s in the middle of tailing a lone NPC down an alleyway, blade at the ready, when he stops and turns his head over his shoulder. He gets the feeling he’s being followed.

[pikkues-blog]

@idontkill | starter ad

“Hm?”

The sound of footsteps made him look up, only to pause when his gaze fell upon a young woman passing by. Call it a reflex, when he painted on his best smile and waved to get her attention.

“Forgive me, but what’s a young lady like yourself doing walking these streets alone?”