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[venatoris]

WELCOME TO THE SALTBURNT NETWORK

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nightmoves

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misc. action at the bar!

[cicatricem]

[There is a bar that apparently likes to jump around depending on the day; lucky for Sang-Wook, he doesn't have to go on a pilgrimage all over the place to find a moment of respite there. Call it 'finding comfort in the ordinary' — he's spent so much time in bars, tracking his targets or getting a drink to numb himself to do what he needs to, it only feels right to seek it out now, even after all of the chaos of home and of the manor. It's surprisingly full of people today — much to his asocial detriment — but seeks out the one free chair beside some American-looking guy.

Usually, he would just sit down and not give two shits to ask, but...

He has learned a few manners, since the Green home apartments.

A few.

The scarred man speaks up:]

Anyone sitting here?

[venatoris]

[ Dean seeks out whatever bar he can daily; even one that jumps around like a jackrabbit and happens to be full. These days, he's a little more jumpy, he's fresh outta purgatory so he can't help but twitch when someone sits next to him. But, hey - gotta make friends, right? He has no idea how long he's gonna be stuck here. Wherever here really is. ]

You are. Have a seat, man.

[ Drink away your sorrows with Mr Winchester, here. ]

[cicatricem]

[Oh, god, hopefully not a social butterfly he's sitting next to (though Sang-Wook could seriously use the practice, rusty as he is). He settles in the chair next to Dean with a grunt of approval, the burnt, scarred side of his face being Dean's primary view of him, with calloused knuckles that speak of someone used to punching. And he looks grumpy — looks like someone who would huffily fall into bar chairs often. Basically: a guy used to violence, not unlike a supernatural hunter.

The bartender is still helping someone else, so he asks:]

They got Cass? [... The name of that Korean beer is purely coincidence, buddy.] Or Hite?

[venatoris]

[ Mmm not especially, though Dean will chat if he's prompted into it. His only friend as of not long ago was a vampire that he's still not sure he trusts.

He picks his drink up and takes a sip, his own hands scarred, fingers once healed by Cas now bent and crooked all over again. ]

Cas? You've run into him? [ Hite, though...he doesn't often drink anything beyond cheap ass domestic because it is, in fact, cheap, so he glances over at the bar, squinting. ]

They might. Seems a decent selection.

[cicatricem]

[He furrows his brow, looking a little puzzled.]

Not a him. Never had that drink?

[A pause.]

Popular in Korea, so maybe not.

[Sounds like the guy is hoping to see someone, maybe? He's not sure. Either way, he can relate to being scarred up in traumatic ways, so he can only hope 'Cass' isn't some bad figure to avoid.]

text; un: persephone

[semicharmed]

[ Matt considered apologizing to everyone he texted with slash video-called while high. But then he figured, eh, the house has done weirder and worse. He'll save his I'm sorrys for the people he sexually harassed. ]

Hey, it's Matt from the whole stab wound debacle. I've been released from custody and cleared to consume alcohol again, [ mainly because a vampire healed him with his vampire powers, but why complicate the narrative, ] so can I interest you in that drink?

[ He sends a picture from the previously mentioned piano bar, one that offers a view through the door into the hallway beyond. Nothing that resembles a portal to hell in sight. ]

text - un; nightmoves

[venatoris]

oh hey, dude. you good? off the narcos?

cause i'm definitely interested in that drink. [ and he is, indeed, VERY relieved to see there doesn't seem to be a portal to hell in the picture - or one to purgatory. ] busy now?

[semicharmed]

My schedule's clear and so is my blood drug level. =)

Come on over, I'll save you a seat.

[ Matt sends a second picture, this one containing a rough map that extends across several cocktail napkins. The manor being what it is, maps aren't always purely spatial; sometimes they look more like flowcharts. A lot of if-then statements.

Anyway, when Dean rolls up, Matt's messing around on his phone. He is clearly the guy from the woozy hospital network post--same twiggy frame, same nest of dark hair--but now he looks a lot more lucid and isn't wearing a paper gown. He's commandeered a plush velvet loveseat, which appears to be in conversation with a duo of equally plush armchairs and a small central table. A neat bourbon sits on it, largely untouched. ]

[venatoris]

[ The map is INSANELY helpful even if it isn't even...all that accurate in the sense a map should be. A general idea is there at least, and he navigates the halls and massive home with more ease than normal, eventually appearing in the bar and looking fairly pleased with himself at his success. Fuck yeah.

Clad in jeans and his traditional flannel over a henley, he saunters over, hands in his pockets, a crooked grin on his face. ]

Matt, I'm guessing?

[semicharmed]

[ Matt looks up, brightening. He is unironically thrilled that some combination of his navigational advice and Dean's natural capacity has successfully gotten him here. He's also a bit jealous of Dean's denim and flannel: Matt's closet in the manor seems to populate exclusively with costumes and the yuppiest nonsense imaginable. He's started stealing other people's clothes just to feel normal. ]

That's me, [ he says pleasantly. ] Dean? [ He gestures towards the empty chairs. ] Have a seat--or head to the bar first, I guess, I haven't had good luck getting anyone to come over here. I didn't want to start drinking without you.

@t.laughlin

[holyposition]

Missing a belt?

text; un - nightmoves

[venatoris]

[ that’s a random question from a random person and Dean has apparently been stuck in an escape room for like two weeks he is SO out of the loop ]

negative, ghost rider. Why, you need to borrow one?

[holyposition]

I have the one that was around my neck last night, with your initials on it. You're the only 'DW' here.

[venatoris]

kinky

pretty sure it’s not mine though

[holyposition]

Pretty sure? You need to be very sure. Who else would it be?

A roommate, stealing your things?

@frannie

[sonatinas]

You have nothing to do with the murders then?

[One person close to her is dead, another was a wolf. Say it ain't so, Dean.]

[venatoris]

I don't, no. I dunno who that belt belongs to, but it's not mine.

I was stuck in an escape room, anyway.

[sonatinas]

Are you well then? Have they done anything to you?

[venatoris]

well enough, i guess.

you got the mask thing going on?

[sonatinas]

We all do, but I do not know how much the colors and teams truly matter.

🎁

[sonatinas]

[A big box looking like a clothing box found at malls circa 1990s get delivered to Dean's room. Inside he'll find a thick jacket that she's lined with fur and embroidered around the zipper. There's also a matching pair of gloves and a bottle of whiskey with a bow on it. A note inside reads:]

Dear husband,
I hope this finds you well. And keeps you just as warm as you have for me.
Sending my well wishes,
Your wife

un: boltcutters

[imperatour]

You know one of my favorite things about the 67 impala?

Perfect height to bend someone over.

[ Too bold? ]

[venatoris]

[ dmdldksjdj ]

you’re goddamn right about that.

[ SURE ISNT ]

[imperatour]

Guess a table could do but nothing quite like feeling the heat from the engine block still.

[venatoris]

[ damn girl ]

yeah i mean a table's fine but the car is way, way better. you get it