collegedropout | Two Hunters and a Chef Baby

Two Hunters and a Chef Baby

[Sam hasn't hunted a wendigo for a pretty damn long time, okay? They seem to be a dying breed; who knew that cannibalism was so last century, right? Splitting up in the middle of a wendigo case isn't always the wisest idea -- it's just, you know. Sometimes you fall down a mine shaft and you end up not with your partner. Whoops. Sam's trying not to focus on that. What matters here is finding the potential food sources of this creature. Three young kids went missing around here, and if they're lucky... they'll find all three, alive and waiting to be eaten.

If not... Sam doesn't like to think of that part of the job, either.

He holds the flare gun low at his side, sneaking around the winding passage ways. It's cold as hell, and it's dark as hell, save for those slivers of moonlight peaking through the boarded up holes far above him. He's trying not to use his flashlight too intensely, but there's only so much you can do before you need that light. He's been known to trip over his own feet.

Just... get this over with, get back to looking for a cure for Dean.

Easy enough.

Thank god his shoulder is healed for this shit. Barely even hurts now, and that's only from the cold seeping in.]

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[Careful, Sam. These tunnels hide more than just a Wendigo. The silence keeps for 5 seconds more, before a sudden snap and hiss, an explosion of light centered right above the hunter's head where the ceiling should be.

It's followed by a holler.

And then a form being unceremoniously tossed to the ground like a bullet]

SHIT.

Edited 2016-02-27 21:53 (UTC)

[WHAT THE FUCK SANJI THAT'S NOT HOW YOU KNOCK ON A FRIEND'S DOOR

Sam does a fantastic 'oh shit shit shit' dance backwards, and it's a good thing Sanji's falling faster than Sam can aim, because the hunter doesn't get a bead on what must be the wendigo; that light must have been Dean shooting it or... something... Right?

But the whole falling over thing kind of makes life difficult, because the flare gun is jarred and goes off with a howling crackle-noise, shooting past Sanji's pretty little head and lighting the way down the tunnels for a few seconds. WHAT.]

Sanji?! What the hell?! I could've shot you!!

[With Sanji's rude introduction, the light from the ceiling blinks out into nothingness - not that it matters with that flare gun alerting every creature in the mud of their position. Well done, hunter.

Sanji would care if he knew what the fuck was going on, but seeing as someone nearly shot his head off (rude), and he landed ass-first on the ground (ruder), the chef tears himself to his feet looking like a rabid animal, ready to start swinging]

The hell you think you're doing, shithead?! You wanna--

... Sam.

[Not a question. He'd recognize that head of hair anywhere. And that moose-like figure.

... STILL KINDA IRATE THO]

Oi oi, what's with the gun, idiot? You could hurt someone with that!

What's with the —

[He looks so exasperated and confused. He's so confused. What is happening.]

I'm in the middle of a hunt. What are you doing here?!

[And meanwhile, in the distance, there's a really spooky screeching noise echoing down the length of the mines.

WheLP.]

[Ah yes, a hunt. Sanji is familiar with the term.

He's never seen Sam complete one, since - y'know. Trapped in some hellhole where you don't age and the gods are shitheads. It's enough information to bring his mood back to sensible levels, at least, and Sanji would explain as best he could if not for that ungodly screech. The man tenses and whips his head around in the direction of the noise, taking an involuntary step back. The flare has died down, and it's dark in the tunnels again -- too dark. Sanji suddenly realizes he can't sense a damn thing, either. Not even Sam who's right next to him.]

-- You said you were hunting.

[Hunting what]

[Ah, yes. Sam redirects a flashlight toward the tunnel again, frowning a bit grimly. Okay. They can take their time actually discussing why Sanji's here. First thing's first, gotta focus on the hunt. Dad taught them not to get distracted for a damn good reason.]

Wendigo. Tall, bony, cannibalistic.

We followed a case here. The remains of a woman and man were found in the woods, obviously used as something's meal. Rangers around here assumed that it was an animal attack, but we could recognize the familiar signs.

Their three kids are missing, though. It's... likely that the wendigo has them held here as future meals.

[Just the usual typical day.]

[Cannibal.

Kids.

... whelp. Sanji draws himself straight and begins looking for that cigarette he will most definitely be needing. He'd say he's happy to see Sam, but it's hard to look the part after an explanation like that. The reunion can wait.]

Never a dull moment with you. [He sidesteps, presumably to let Sam take the lead.] How long you been down here searching?

[Sam checks his wristwatch quickly.]

I fell in about twenty minutes ago. Dean's probably somewhere trying to find a way in.

[He's not particularly easy to see in this lighting, but he's got a few bumps and bruises to be sure. That's what happens when you fall through the a long hole. Not really hurt besides that, lucky him. Last he needs would be to try to outrun a wendigo (ha) with a broken leg or something.]

It's kind of a maze down here, but... you know.

[He motions to the winding tunnels ahead.]

We have a sort of direction, at least.

Just be careful; they're fast. Really fast. Lucky us, they're weak against fire, which is kind of your thing, isn't it?

[Sam is lucky as hell that Sanji's too busy being distracted to give him a thorough look-over. He glances up briefly at the mention of Dean - the brother he's never met - but then just as quickly sends his stare back down the tunnel.]

Well aren't you in luck, shithead. [Fire? Fire he can do. And he's still running on irate, which is all the better for them.]

Let's get this over with. [So he can... he can something. The impossibility of his arrival hangs in the background of his thoughts like a heavy drape. It's all he can do to focus on the here and now. Two minutes ago he was tossing Nami, Chopper, and Brook out of a man's stomach (and only on his world does that make any type of sense), and the sudden lack of chaos is unsettling.

Why is he in Sam's world?]

[He gives a nod.]

Just follow me.

[Because if they're attacked, you'd be super helpful for back-up, am I right???

The tunnels are nice and cold as hell (you know, not as warm as a tummy), and the sudden impending silence is heavy. Even if they tread softly, the smallest scuff of their feet leave little echoes. Sam looks up to the sound of a child's young voice, calling out: help me!! help, I need help!, but he doesn't move yet.

Crap.

That could be the actual kid. Or... you know. It could be a mimicry, a trap.

He sticks with his gut on this one, puts a hand out to stop Sanji, in case he decides he's going to go shounen and rush in.]

It could be the wendigo, pretending to be its meal.

It knows we're down here right now; it likely isn't planning on eating until we're dealt with. Or strung up to be eaten, too. It likes to preserve as much food as possible.

[It's a good thing Sanji has an arm blocking his way. In the silence, the child's cry hits him like a gunshot and antsy as he is, the chef immediately throws his sense of preservation to the wayside. Sam is treated with a scowl until the explanation.

Then he just keeps on frowning, but for a different reason. Twisted as it is, Sanji's gotta give props to any shit that'll work to preserve its food. Waste not and all.

Won't stop him from lighting the bastard on fire though]

If it knows we're here, why the hell is it waiting? [He blows an unseen plume of smoke to the side, already hissing in another puff in agitation. Waiting for someone else to make the first move isn't one of his good points. He stays behind Sam, but his body is poised to move.]

Well... um. I'm pretty sure when I accidentally fired that flare, it realized we had the thing that, you know. Kills it. So it's trying to catch us by surprise first.

[SO. YOU KNOW. WE'RE DOWN A BIT IN THE SURPRISE ELEMENT TOO.

Follow me, Sanji.]

We just need to be very slow and very careful, I guess.

[He glances at Sanji, shrugging.]

And then we hope we don't die. Usual way of the plan.

[Yeah, speaking of that.

Well done, Sam. B| Sanji graces you with a look of deep disappointment. Because Sanji falling through a wormhole was absolutely your fault.]

Sam, if your shitty ass dies just when I get here...

[Cue Sanji finally taking a good look at Sam's figure - less skin and bones from what the chef remembers, but a little bit scraped up. All the more reason to cut this date with the Wendigo as short as possible]

[Small favors! Sam has definitely gotten a little better. Granted he's still Skinny McGee and Sam is not gonna mention the state of his fridge back in the bunker, but...

Anyway. Things could be worse.

He smiles thinly in the darkness.]

Nice to see you, too.

Let's get these kids out of here.

[.... Is that rocky shadow behind you moving?]

[....... Oh fuck does this tunnel have loops?

WELL.]

Get down!!

[Sam steers his handgun. In the creature's direction, poised to shoot. If he can just throw it off, Sanji can do some damage and kick that thing into the atmosphere, right through the roof. Easy, right??

Either way, duck so he can fire, mmmkay?]

[Yeah about that--

Sanji doesn't just fail to sense the creature sneaking up behind him - by the time he registers Sam's order, the Wendigo swipes at his back before he can dodge.

It's a mercy it didn't try to grab him; maybe later Sanji will know to be thankful. For now, he's thrown across the tunnel by the force, slamming into a nearby wall with an audible crack that alerts him of one of his bones not appreciating the landing.

Pain flies up his rib cage and shit, this hurts. More than it should. He's shrugged off electrocution with more finesse, for shit's sake, and the irony isn't lost as he struggles back to his feet, one arm cupped against his chest.]

Sam-- [There is something wrong.]

Sanji!

[Crap. What the hell?! What the hell —

Sam's distracted by the fact that his friend just went flying (why, he's supposed to be a friggin powerhouse--that's not good), but he at least keeps his wits enough to fire away at the beast. It's just... you know. A handgun doesn't do much. He's got extra flares in his loose pack, but the problem is actually getting to them. Right now his mission is to get the wendigo to focus on him, because Sanji sounds hurt, and he can't let it finish him off.]

Hey! I'm muscle and bone, but I bet I'm two of those kids in one, huh?!

Come on, you bastard!

[... And the bullets barely faze it. It at least isn't going for Sanji, for a kill. Or to grab him and run with that inhuman strength and speed. It roars and grabs the hunter by the shoulders, slamming him into the wall. Sam gasps in pain, and then — then, Sam's slammed against it again, knocked cold out as his bag of supplies drops to the ground.

And then it's suddenly gone, with Sam dragging in its grip.

A new meal to add to the pile.]

Sam!!

[That comes a little later, but apparently someone isn't far off on your heels. Probably because of the, I dunno, friggin gunshots that are loud enough in there to sound off the whole place. Dean's betting Sam got to the wendigo before Dean got to him. And if there's one thing Dean didn't want, it was his brother's life at the mercy of a wendigo; if he finds Sam in one complete, undamaged piece, he's gonna kill 'em. Only not really. Shut up.

He's trying to ignore the fact that the Mark... it's tellin' him to find the Wendigo first and forement, Sam second. Sometimes it scares him, how often the thing tries to get him to move in one direction while he goes the other. Tiring, s'what it is. And as far as he can tell, unfixable — he's tired, and that also means he's tired of looking for a cure that doesn't exist. Sam doesn't get that, yet.

Whatever. Focus.

He squints through the dark, and for once his heart is pattering out of concern and fear than from the Mark's blood thirst. So far, no sign of Sam, but he feels like he smells the fainest scent of blood in the middle of this musty shithole. And... Is that movement? He points his flare gun toward the moving figure, approaching cautiously.

... Not a wendigo. It's shorter, and more human. He can tell as much.]

Sammy?

[This human is too short to be his brother - we're talking a good 5 inches shorter at the very least, and far less malnourished. But he's injured. The sluggish, dim-eyed manner in which he climbs to his feet says as much, and he continues to cradle his ribcage.

There's a hiss of breath, either from anger or pain. Sanji starts marching for Sam's abandoned supplies]

Damned, shitty cannibal got your brother.

[A curt reply. Sanji knows who this is. Normally he'd greet the brother of a close friend with more respect, but they doesn't have time for pleasantries, and Sanji can barely hear himself speaking over the weight of his stupid failure.

Something went wrong. He should've -- damn it, he's not so out of practice that he couldn't have parried that blow. And Sam had never given any indication that Wendigos were that powerful. Bastards, sure, and quick as lightning, but Sanji deals with shit like that on the regular. What the hell happened.

He's forgotten Dean. Probably not gaining any points in his favor, but Sanji continues to hiss lightly through his teeth as he bends down and retrieves the still cooling gun. The weight is heavy and unwelcome in his hand, but not unfamiliar; he's used one before. He even considers himself a good shot in a pinch.

Though if it's anything like what just happened--]

They headed around the bend of this tunnel. [More like the Wendigo dragged Sam like a shitty carcass, he recalls with bitter concern. Dean probably knows it, too. Sanji glances behind his shoulder, to assess how many shades of pissed Mr. Big Brother is. From what Sanji remembers of Sam's guarded retellings, Dean shares a lot of qualities with the chef.

Which means they might start a forest fire in a second. Sanji gets ready to step back in case a (well-deserved) swing comes.]

[Got his brother? Got his brother??? Hold the fuck up.

He marches forward, not at all in the mood -- because Sam's gone, and if Sam's gone then that thing is stringing him up somewhere. And that's if it didn't accidentally kill him taking him. Shit. He doesn't want to think too much into it yet, that's not the hunter way of things. But he doesn't swing (yet); he steps forward with every obvious intention of shutting Sanji's plan down.]

Just hold up, blondie, you're not going anywhere like that. Was Sam still conscious, and how bad off was he? Is the wendigo injured, or am I going in against a healthy one? Because you're not going. This thing is dangerous and you're not at full capacity here.

[He'll get to taking the duffle and gun in a hot second. But he is confused as to why some idiot in a suit is getting himself into trouble in the mines. He'll figure that out as he goes. And he will go. He'll be taking off like a bullet once the curly-browed guy gives him a little scoop, because if they chat all nigth Sam'll really be in for it.]

Edited 2016-02-29 00:13 (UTC)

[... BLONDIE?]

[Yep, they are really gonna do this right now.

Dean is welcome to make any move, but Sanji is prepared to counter, tensing back and purposefully keeping himself at a distance. Dean wants the gun? Too fuckin bad. Sanji can't trust his own body for some bullshit reason, and the idea of going in to a Wendigo's den unarmed doesn't sit well with him.

Because he sure as hell isn't going to play helpless when he's capable of walking and dodging. It's not Dean's fault Sam got his ass handed to him.]

Your shitty concern's touching. [If sarcasm could drip they'd be caught in a flood] But unless you've got some rope in that pack... [Yeah, no dice. And Sanji would bet beli he can run faster than Dean.] Besides, that Wendigo was healthy. I bet Sam's unconscious by how hard the shitty thing tossed him into the wall.

[Him being a pile of feathers and all. That nickname isn't funny today. Regardless, Sanji isn't up for leaving Dean to shoulder the burden alone. At the very least the chef has a better idea of the speed this thing can pull off, and isn't above providing a distraction if it'll save some lives.]

Get on my shitty case later if you want, but do it after you shove a flare up that thing's ass.

[are you fucking serious right now]

[He runs his grimy hands over his face, sighing.

So this is, what, a hunter? He doesn't seem phased by wendigos. Is he, like, old-school Garth levels of fuck-up? Friggin great. Perfect. Just what he needs -- considered doe-eyed brothers and stubborn fuck-ups. Heck, sounds like they know each other; go figure. But Sanji at least wins the round just because Dean needs to make sure Sam's okay first and foremost. Or else he'd just be a bigger bitch about this in retaliation. He points at Sanji, all business.]

Alright, you stay behind me, cover me. And when we find the kids and Sam, you -- whoever the hell you are, anyway -- you get over to them, make sure they're okay. Get 'em out if you can, guard them where they are if you can't. If you feel like you can't do something because of the battle damage, tell me so you don't go getting us all killed pretending you can handle it.

[... Huff. Great.]

And you better know how to use that gun, because if you shoot me in the ass, I'm gonna take you down with me.

[Okay? Okay. Let's go, you buttmunch.

LET'S MOVE.]

THIS TAG IS MUCH SHORTER WHOOPS

pinches sanji's cheeks ah yes my idiot nephew come to auntie ashlee

1/2 Sanji already regrets our life choices, Ashlee

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1/2 this is going great

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