ic contact

[venatoris]

This is Dean Winchester. If this is an emergency, leave a message.

Comments

[venatoris]

i thought you found that when you were 7

[endoftheverse]

Shuddup
trail behind the cabin
get your ass down here.

[He'll just wait on the outskirts for ya, pal.]

[venatoris]

alright alright, im comin

[ He polishes off the drink he'd poured, sets the glass down and heads out the back and go holler for his brother. ]

Sammy?

[endoftheverse]

[He's really gotta start distilling your alcohol with some water or something to keep it lasting, huh?

He's just casually stands with his hands in his pockets, gaze a bit distant, like he's in a whole 'nother world. Which practically means he is, all things considered; Lucifer's not gone, after all. Sickly, but getting stronger as the month progresses.

Regardless, the moment Dean appears, Sam's expression flourishes back to life again and he smiles.]

I hope you're ready for this, 'cause I sure wasn't.

[He turns, starts down the trail a short distance, and once he's reached particular spot, he kicks a few branches off of — well...

A mini-gun.

Full-stop.

Just. A mini-gun, sitting out in the middle of the forest, seemingly unused.]

[venatoris]

[ Yeah, yeah. He's got a couple more bottles now thanks to asking around. Wanda is a blessing.

Dean comes to stand right next to him, staring down, brow drawn up. ]

...What am I lookin' at. [ Like he knows what it is, but he's confused as hell, uncomprehending as he stares at it. Where the hell did that come from? ]

[endoftheverse]

You're looking at an unmounted mini-gun. A M-134A2 Vulcan, if I remember right.

The biggest action movie gun a guy can carry.

... Only that's movies, and no actual human being can carry and fire this without a mount.

[hello i'm sam and i can be a big nerd about cool stuff sometimes too, dean]

Judging by the debris, I think it's just been... lying here. For a while.

[venatoris]

[ He swings a look over at Sam, because yeah he knew that but he's...kinda shocked you did. ]

Wait a minute, wait a minute. You telling me I had a Terminator gun in my backyard this whole time?

[endoftheverse]

[Sam turns slightly, hands still in his pockets, expression rather casual.]

You had a Terminator gun in your backyard the whole time.

[venatoris]

There's no way. I cased this whole place.

[ He's saying it as he goes to squat down beside it, squinting as he looks it over. This is cool as hell.

Dean perks a little, flashing a smirk up at Sam. ]

Hey, you think the Terminator was here? [ Smoothing his face into something expressionless, he intones in the proper accent; ]

I'll be back.

[endoftheverse]

[... He makes a face. The face of judgement.]

If there is one, hopefully it was the Terminator 2 one, and not the first movie.

And hopefully he doesn't think we're stealing his mini-gun.

[venatoris]

Well, if he's still here, he doesn't give a shit about this gun, that's for sure. Help me with it.

[ Because Sam's right, it's too big for one puny human to haul around and carry. ]

[endoftheverse]

[How do we always end up moving things like we do this professionally?

... Well, it's worth it. He crouches and hefts one end up.]

You think you can mount this thing somewhere with a window?

[venatoris]

[ fuckin seriously.

now use those gangly legs. ]

Don't see why not. It would make a lovely kitchen addition.

[endoftheverse]

... We are not putting this in the kitchen.

[venatoris]

C'mon. Why not?

[ It would be such a nice accessory. ]

[endoftheverse]

Because we eat there?

[venatoris]

[ a blank look, like... your point?? ]

Uh huh...?

[endoftheverse]

I'm not sharing the table with a mini-gun at breakfast, dude.

Leave that in your daydreams.

[venatoris]

Okay, boring.

[ But, you know. Fiiine. ]

Living room window?

[endoftheverse]

... [Meh.] I think we can work with that.

[It will make their guests ask a lot of questions.

... But it's a fashion statement all the same.]