#sosamiam

Alice walked slow, just a lazy stroll to anyone who spared a glance. Following a rather tall man out of the corner store. She was normally could at sizing out a mark, her father taught her which had the most cash on them by their walk alone. Though there wasn't nearly as much on him as she would normally pick, beggars couldn't be choosers at this point.

The 12 year started to run, like a kid would. Then brushed past the man, her hand quickly slipping into his pocket to pull out the wallet she had seen him tuck into his pants in the store.

Bobby wasn't quite sure where he had landed, secluded, at least, was good, but he knelt in the muck, it looked like it had been raining all night, and tried to catch his breath.  He'd smoked out and landed--he wasn't sure.  His hand went to his side, not a bad enough injury for his healing to kick it, it was painful, and in the long term, fatal, but that was only eventually.  It took three tries for him to get to his feet, bloody and covered in muck, he slipped and slid to the closest building leaning heavily against the rough wall. 

He was still coughing, bent almost double, now under the tiny overhang.  But he forced his feet to move it was far too cold to stay in one place.  A familiar figure came into view and he squinted even as the ground underneath him came very suddenly up to meet him. 

If he didn't know any better, he would swear that was Sam, but whether sam knew he was topside or not was the question.  He just prayed when he woke up he wouldn't be back where he had come from. 

The cuts were deep and bleeding, and one of them bore the distinct diamond shape of an angel blade.  The others were all places that would hurt and bleed, places that made it hard to move.  Marks of torture. 

And, somewhere in all of this he had lost the copper band that kept the bounty hunter away.  For right now, it was just that the near brush with death kept him too weak to do anything. 

"Illumion, dinner!" he yelled, pointing a finger at the nearest demon. With a ear piercing growl the creature launched itself across the dark barn at the demon, knocking it down before digging in. The beast was a freakish thing, the legs of a horse, back of an eagle and head of an angler fish, whose large teeth were making quick work of the screaming demon.

Graphua, clothes a little torn and a streak of blood in his white hair, smirked, floating up and facing the rest of the horde, "So," he asked them merrily, "Who wants to go next?"

A brave one surged forward, Graphua  blew him a kiss, the air turning frosty and eventually to ice, quickly wrapping around the demon to hold him in place, "Chill out." he winked and icy spikes exploded form the ice which held him, stabbing him dozens of times before dissipating, the dead demon fell to the floor and the others turned and ran.

The lights in the motel room flickered, the air becoming cold as the door, open for ventilation suddenly snapped shut, as did the bathroom door.  Bobby hoped that was enough to get Sam's attention. 

He waited, hoping the Younger Winchester, always the better at lore checked the place out.  The cold air localized in one spot, just inside the salt circle protecting the beds.

Liz had been alone a long time. Clean, for a long time now. She'd been hunting, through the worst of it, sticking within the bottom of the south, texas to florida. but today she was in Kansas, which was very odd, but she'd been called on by someone to do a psychic consult on a case.