collegedropout | IC Contact.

wastelands

you in?

Aaaaren't we a little under-equipped, though?

Dean

are you bored somewhere getting bad ideas?

no

yes

we hunt all sorts of shit we can handle a quick look at the wastelands

Yeah, but we usually at least figure out what we're hunting before we hunt it.

... Usually. Relatively.

The dragon meat broadcast made you restless, didn't it.

there's no way to even figure out the wastelands without going to the wastelands

think of your book

think of all of the terrible monsters you want to help for some reason

and yes

that's a fucking hunt right there

Stooping kinda low there.

I was going the moment you asked.

[stupid]

Still think we're under-equipped for dragons, though.

i knew you were

i was just giving you more reasons to come

[...]

no dragons

yet

[You'd better not be like a kid at christmas the entire time, I will just lock you in a room somewhere.

Besides, he only needs one reason to go.

And that's super sappy and we don't do sappy.]

Good. Because I'm not really into dying by something breathing fire on me.

Unless you go for a 'Swan Dragon'.

[If kids at Christmas time are culture-shocky and a tiny bit bloodthirsty, then you hit the nail right on the head.

He knows you have his back with these forays into the city's unknowns. All this back and forth is for your benefit.]

what the hell is a swan dragon

is it tasty

Edited (i always do this late at night) 2013-08-24 10:50 (UTC)

It's exactly what it sounds like, dude.

Use your imagination.

And I have no idea. I've never eaten swan dragon. It's gotta be better than dragon meat, though. Bird tastes good most of the time, right?

with the way things work here it could be called a swan dragon but look like demon hellspawn

reptile meat is good too

fried alligator tail sammy

fried alligator tail

you need to lay off the salads and live a little

Edited 2013-08-24 21:36 (UTC)

Salad is probably less likely to give me major heartburn, just saying.

... You seriously eat fried alligator?

heartburn is proof that you had a good meal how do you not know that

i have a few times

it's good

Good to know a good meal is regurgitating acid back into your esophagus.

Just try to avoid the weird creatures here that might give you ulcers.

won't know until i try

won't try until you get your ass here so we can go

so get moving

You're a nag. Fine, fine. I'm coming.

Where are you, exactly?

[Dean sends over his coordinates. He's already near the wastelands. Not that he's eager or anything.]

[Don't worry, it takes just a little bit before he gets there, wearing that frayed coat from his small arsenal of clothing. And of course, he's got the notepad he's been working on tucked into a pocket. He walks over some of the rubble from the caved-in Chinese monument, looking up at it.]

Guess even the Great Wall couldn't keep it safeguarded.

[Dean's armed and ready, standing there in his layered clothing, giving Sam a nod as he gets closer. There's a part of him — darker, less acknowledged — that hopes that the Wastes will be like Purgatory, with dangerous creatures all around and nothing to do but hack and slash at them. The more time Dean spends here, the more he wants something like that again. Something that makes more sense than what they've been doing, sitting around and playing nice, knowing that most of their neighbors are dangerous. Dean's already heard of a vampire that's been pestering someone — and yeah, he volunteered his services in the event that they're needed, but the fact that he can't go off and just hunt the damn thing once and for all gets under his skin. Makes him restless.

They have an enemy on which they need to focus their energy, Dean reminds himself. But that progress is slow-going, and Dean really just needs to burn off some steam. So when Sam arrives, Dean's expression is focused — alert. Ready.]

Guess not.

[He doesn't need to ask Sam if he's armed. Of course he is, because he's a Winchester, and wouldn't show up to something like this without a weapon. Dean leads them through a gap in the wall — bending low and working his way out until he's in the Wastes. He waits for Sam to emerge after him, and while he does, Dean takes in the scenery — vast, and shifting. The ground shakes, a little, for a moment, and then settles down. Dean pulls out Ruby's knife.]

We'll scope it out. Take a look around, see if we can find a good hunt. Anything out of our league gets on our trail, we'll turn back.

[Because for all he wants to do this, Dean isn't stupid — he's very well of their limitations and their ammo situation, and he knows better than to throw himself at something they can't handle right now.]

[Sam isn't just armed, he's got a bag with a few supplies, in case they for whatever reason get mauled, stuck, or otherwise lost in a big place full of nature and monsters. Gotta be prepared, Dean. Besides, Sam's kinda a big fan of nature walks. So. Whatever, he's totally prepped.

Though, he is worried about Dean, sometimes. This whole hunting thing... Sam's just not drawn to it. But isn't that how it usually is? If it's hunting for the sake of hunting he could never really put his mind into the game; even when he was at his lowest, hunting was mostly a distraction, a means to an end for revenge. Now, he's just here because he's not leaving Dean to this alone. Sam knows this has to be a little worse off after Purgatory, especially considering... how much Dean seemed to start to like it.

The thought is a sad one. He could never say that, not to Dean, not if he didn't want a split lip, but...

He just nods to his brother.]

Might be able to identify some. [... he grins, good-natured.] look out for the rabbits. Like usual.

[Have you had the privilege of meeting the violent killer rabbits, Dean?]

[Dean has had the misfortune of encountering one of them, and he is well aware that they aren't pleasant if provoked. But...]

I think rabbits'll be the least of our problems out here.

[There's a hint of enthusiasm in his tone as he surveys the Wastes. Hunting just for the sake of hunting shouldn't be appealing - after all, their job is to save people, not kill aimlessly. But trapped as they are here, with monsters they can't hunt and an enemy they can't just go out and face, Dean feels an inner restlessness that is only growing as time passes. He just sucks at settling down and biding his time - something he has already established once before. At least in Purgatory, it was kill or be killed, a constant surge of adrenaline and movement. Here, it's live quietly and hunt down harmless fruit cows for food.

They can't go too far, at least not this first time out, and not if they don't want to deal with the time discrepancies that he heard about. But a little venturing should be enough, so Dean leads them outward, every so often glancing back at the Safezone to gauge their distance. The ground rumbles, and Dean notices some movement far ahead as the Wastes shift yet again.

Something flies overhead. Dean looks up.]

...the hell is -

[There's a loud, disorienting cry, and Dean finds himself stumbling over his next steps. The creature cries out again, and Dean clamps his hands over his ears, whipping around as he does so to check on Sam.]

[Sam's a mirror image, stumbling over lanky limbs until he backs up defensively against a large rock with a bit of overhang. He peers up toward the sky with a squint, but whatever it was passed over him already, sweeping in a massive circle he couldn't see him here.]

What is that??

[He says it nearly at the same time as Dean speaks, lining up on the dot.]

IC Contact.

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