#iseethroughthecracks

iseethroughthecracks

saladandresearch

Elmarine had almost hesitated in attempting to acquire even one of the Winchesters. As much as they managed to come back to life, Death practically owned them already. He’d appear to them, they’d kill the creatures she believed to belong to her (ghosts, demons, monsters; all those that clung to life so much that Death’s territories could not contain them). They were a powerful pair, though, and if she could bring them onto her side it would be that much better.

She would start with the younger one. He seemed to have less of a kill on sight attitude and was easier to reason with. Besides, Death had a soft spot for the older one.

She set herself up to jump in in the middle of a hunt, a gun at the ready.

                  Bruised knuckles rapped on the door of the home as Nox shifted his weight from foot to foot. Some smart ass dick head had been giving one of the girls shit, so Nox had been sent to fuck him up. Unsure if he had gotten the right place, he decided to give it a try anyway. Knocking louder now, he was becoming impatient. 

                                   “Open up, dick ‘ead!”

Today just wasn't Samael's day. His cigarettes had gotten wet-don't ask him how-and now that he had a new pack his lighter wasn't working. With a growl he threw the useless piece of plastic aside. This is where his day continued to go wrong. The lighter actually hit someone passing by.

[ Text: Sam - Come back, hurry. ]

That was it. After this, nothing. So he'd gone back to the bunker. And now here he was, backed against some wall, a gun to his head. That gun being held by his baby brother, who looked like he was going through Hell again.

"Sammy, c'mon, put the gun down." He murmured, looking him in the eye. He wasn't scared. Well, only a little. It was his kid brother, what could be going wrong in the kids head? Well, a lot, according to the gun pointing between his eyes.

[ I am crying omfg what is a i r ]

just-her-echo

iseethroughthecracks

gunsandirises

godoftravelers

continuingsurvival

His shoulders were set lowly, gaze piercing through nearly everything they settled on. It was uncomfortably warm outside, and Gregory tugged at his collar a little, loosening the choke of his tie. A deal was going on, he knew. A trained eye could just tell. Men in alleyways, hands in pockets, hoods up. And God, he missed it. Teeth clamped down on his bottom lip, sighing. He needed something. A stranger. That would do for some thrill. So he strode up to one, expression blank, as it nearly always was. "Hello. Would you be interesting in going somewhere with me? I do realise that does sound a tad ominous, but I promise, there are no devious intentions behind it."

Anna had fallen asleep in the far corner of the library, her head resting on the leafy pages of the old exorcism book. She'd slept barely two hours the night before and with the addition of reading repetitive texts over and over again, she couldn't help but drift off in to unconsciousness. 

About an hour later, she was roused from her dream by someone shaking her shoulder. She murmured something intelligible before finally peeling her hazel eyes open. She peered up at the stranger through her fiery auburn locks and nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw who it was. Anna jumped off her seat and looked at the other with a mixture of fear and confusion. "What're you doing here?" she asked.