Log in

No account? Create an account
< back | 0 - 10 |  
Sam Winchester [userpic]

dork mode: on

October 8th, 2009 (12:18 am)

current mood: tired

No dice on Cas and the warehouse, but the search was not altogether useless.  Dean found a scrap of fabric caught on a nail and covered in what looks like blood.  I think it's the same color as Castiel's trench coat, so Dean's washing it now to check.

He also got back word from Regina that Norman Grist does not exist, which makes me extremely uncomfortable.  I don't know what it means, which is frustrating.  If he shows up again, we'll know it's trouble.  I bet he knew exactly who we were and fed us every line.

Still, he wasn't mistaken.  Cas was at that warehouse some time in the past few weeks.  He's got to still be here, somewhere.  Tomorrow morning Dean is going to try the locating spell.  Hopefully that will give us a better idea of where to look.  I should get a city map and see if we can't direct the spell onto the map to get an exact location.

I think I've got to dilute the blood again.  It's almost impossible to get the right mixture of whiskey and demon crack so I don't lose my mind, but at the same time don't operate all the time 5% drunk.  We got back from the warehouse and I was starting to feel it, but Lorne came through, sure enough.  Shit.

I'm going to take a shower, give Dawn a call, and then call it a night.

ETA Dean I swear to god if you say something uncouth about me getting laid I will murder you in your bed, and we will all be crushed by the apocalypse.

Sam Winchester [userpic]

Worried about this Warehouse (and that guy)

October 1st, 2009 (11:58 am)

current mood: irritated

Fruitless search at the warehouse so far.  We've turned up no signs of anything useful, except a lot of displaced dirt.  Otherwise, the inside is spotless (in the Supernatural sense). 

I'm suspicious of Norman Grist in the most extreme way.  Everything he said to us was too easy to get.  He handed us what we wanted to hear.  I think Dean's asked Regina to get a background check on him.  I guess we'll see if he's reputable or what.

ETA: Background check a negative.  Norman Grist does not exist.  Not even a little bit.  Not even "I stole your identity while you watch football in Nevada and have no idea."  We should probably gtfo before anything really, really bad happens.

I wonder what Dawn's up to....

Sam Winchester [userpic]


September 15th, 2009 (08:52 am)

current location: Sault Ste Marie, Michigan
current mood: energetic

Shit, I completely forgot to write anything down in the last couple days ((weeks)).  I've been busy with Dean up here in Michigan, and he's always on the computer doing something or other, so I didn't even think about it.

Uh, okay.  Status report.

Ate lunch.

Got back to find Dean drawing up plans for a summoning ritual he's going to do to try to contact Cas, using Anna as protection.  It seems risky, but I think Willow's enough of a badass, and Dean's got a solid enough idea what's going on, that it should turn out okay.

We left Xander in the evening and drove around the north side of town, by the river, running on our tried-and-true instinct that supernatural shit hides in warehouses.  It's like a rule.  We didn't find anything blatant or specific, but I've got a couple of addresses of places that looked empty enough for an angel on the downlow to choose.

Then we hit up a bar on Main street and were basically handed all the answers we were looking for as we sat there and pretended to be grad students (or, Dean decided he was my advisor and that I was his grad student peon, charming).  Norman Grist joined us in order to tell us everything we wanted to hear about squatters in abandoned buildings (Cas) and the angelic sigil painted on the wall (Cas) and where he was last seen.  It sounds good, but feels dodgy.  I'm unreasonably nervous about this guy, but Dean seems to be all gung-ho about following his leads.

So we headed back to the motel and grabbed Xander (and Anna) and we're en route to the last warehouse now.  If we don't find Cas tonight, we'll get in touch with him tomorrow, early, with Dean's ritual.

Oh and then there was Zachariah showing up at the Foundation to be a dick.

I think when we get back I'll text Dawn.  Say hi, give her an update.  I wonder how her leprechaun case is going.

Ah, forgot to mention, Lorne's blood.  Um, I'm not going to say I love it, because the whole situation sucks, but I'm holding steady.  There's only a couple of drops in the flask because it's so strong in its purity, but I think I'll be okay.  When I finish this (which is going to take a while: drinking and hunting do not mix), I'll see how I feel before I mix another batch.  Ugh, I hate this shit.

Sam Winchester [userpic]

let's get crackin'

September 2nd, 2009 (10:53 pm)

current location: Michigan
current mood: uncomfortable

So apparently witchcraft is the only way to get a hold of Cas.  Hopefully because we're in the same town (educated guess), it'll be easier.  I went out and got some Sandalwood oil and incense for Dean after he showed me Willow's email.  She's got a lot of power in her hands, I think.

I'm not totally comfortable with witchcraft in the motel room, nor am I comfortable calling an archangel for protection (that worked well last time), but if Dean's going to call on Anna instead, we may have a chance.

Changing the subject, Dean posted an article about a chupacabra in Texas.  We hunted one of those once, nasty fuckers.  But I followed his stupid wiki link, and I want to hunt this guy now.  Seriously?

Uh, anyway.  Regina, we're getting a trace on Cas ASAP, probably this afternoon.  Sorry about Zachariah, really.  We didn't want you all to get involved in this, but, that's what you got.  Two Winchesters and a whole bucket of crazy.

Sam Winchester [userpic]

text-mexin' (and food)

August 29th, 2009 (11:51 pm)

current location: Sault Ste Marie, Michigan
current mood: calm

Sam set off down the street from the motel, shrugging off his jacket and tying it around his waist.  Even in Michigan, it was too warm for this many layers.

He thought about salad.  Cucumbers.  Ranch dressing.  Food not made of animal and then grilled.  Corn.  French bread.

God, their diet sucked.  He grinned to himself and squinted against the sun, trying to see if he could find a grocery store.

Then, almost as an afterthought, he pulled out his phone.

hey, he typed.  And stopped.  Eloquent, Winchester, good job.  it's sam.  any leprechauns yet?  There.  That was simple enough.  It had been a while since he'd gotten Dawn's number, maybe they'd set off already.  They almost definitely hadn't reached Colorado yet, though, whatever mode of transport they were taking.  He was a little jealous.  He'd much rather be doing a regular job than looking for Castiel....  Not because he didn't like Castiel (he was neutral on the subject, really), but he missed the mundane hauntings, the mystical creatures.

He realized he was still staring at his phone, the message sitting there in the text field.  Right.

Sam scrolled through the names in the address book, and pressed send, and then tucked the phone back into his pocket and continued down the street, scanning for a market, anything.

Sending Message ---> Dawn Summers

Sam Winchester [userpic]

Ley Lines

August 28th, 2009 (12:36 am)

current location: Lawrence Public Library
current mood: geeky

Sam wandered back from the Lawrence Public Library bank of printers and spread the sheets of paper on the table in front of Dean and Xander.

"Okay," he said, pointing, "Starting at the macro, there's some vague shit here about ley lines crossing tectonic plates.  Apparently, when the plates shift, there's like, an energy flare.  There are also positive and negative ley lines, or, rather, intersection points, where good stuff and bad stuff happens."

He pointed to the second one.  "This one has the grid of the U.S., but it's also got these circles of alignment, which are, I guess, just as good when it comes to Ley Geometry."

"Oh, but, on this one, you can sort of see Ohio.  There's nothing special in Ohio except the Great Serpent Mound, here.  See, it's a snake eating an egg."

"But, I honestly don't think Cas would pick that, because that's weird.  But north of that on the rim of this yellow circle, here, is Sault Ste. Marie, Michigan, which is bordered by three Great Lakes."

Sam grinned and lay the last paper on top, letting Xander and Dean look at it.  "I think this one's our best bet.  What does that look like?"

Sam Winchester [userpic]

I'm gonna kick his ass.

August 26th, 2009 (10:54 am)
pissed off

current location: the impala
current mood: pissed off

Well, shit.  Once I got down off my insane high cloud of whatever the fuck, and made a fairly strong decision not to take it again, Dean's all shoving the canister in my hands and telling me to mix it and here Sam, take this whiskey, because what I need in my life is more mind-altering substances.

FUCK I wish I could kill Azazel again.

Okay, well, anyway.  Still feeling it.  I mixed like, a teaspoon into the flask, and hopefully that'll be diluted enough to keep me from completely losing (as in, can't find it) my mind like yesterday. 

Dean could have been anywhere, done anything, left me in the motel in Colorado, gotten bit in the face by a gargoyle, whatever, and I would have been too fucking out of it to do anything about it.  He didn't consider that, I bet.  Good thing we're not on a real hunt, or it would have been dead Dean all over again.

I don't think I could stand it.

He went behind my back, too, like I can't do this myself.  I know what I did.  I know what I got myself into.  Okay, I screwed up.  Bad.  But still, big brother Dean, looking over my shoulder, all the goddamn time.

I'm being selfish.  I'm being a jerk.  Dean has my best interests at heart, etc, etc.  But did he stop and think about what I wanted for like, five and a half seconds? 

Withdrawal is terrible.  It makes me want to die.  But Dean thinking that he's always got to keep an eye on me, like I'm still a kid? 

Okay, not as terrible.  But still kind of shitty.

I feel bad enough about the blood sucking thing, Dean, the last thing I need is you helping me along.

We're going to see Missouri.

Sam Winchester [userpic]


August 25th, 2009 (04:24 pm)

current location: i can't remember
current mood: high

Well, it's good to know that even high as a motherfuckin demon kite, I can still wallow in my own self-loathing.  That's great.

This is a totally different kind of high, though.  Is that good?  With that bitch Ruby, it was like caffeine, all there and alert and strong.  Now... I think I'm still in the room, but.  Who knows?  Could be anywhere.  Could be in L.A.  Could be in Switzerland.  Although I've never been to Switzerland, I don't think this is what it looks like.

Dean.  Is an asshole.  He always thinks he knows what's best.  He always knows.  But he's not big on the sharing of the details.  I don't even know what we're doing here, two hundred miles outside Lawrence.

Oh that must be where I am.  Still?

But Missouri?  Can she help us?  What are we looking for?

Oh fuck.  Jimmy.

But Dean.  He's only doing what he thinks is right.  Which is wrong.  Or is it right?  This is Lorne's, running through me now.  He's a psychic.  I'm a freak.  This freak on freak action is only going to make it worse.  I'm so fucked up.  Fucked up in general.  Fucked up right now.  Dilution is going to need to happen, because I've never been so out of it. 

I drank that whole nurse, and it wasn't this bad.



I think I might sleep.  That seems like my only option.

Where are my fingers?

Sam Winchester [userpic]


August 21st, 2009 (10:43 pm)

current mood: nervous
current song: AC/DC

I feel bad that we didn't even get a note or anything to Bobby before we beat it.  I hope what I gave Dawn was useful-- all that scrawling nonsense about the leprechauns and shit.  I'm lucky I even grabbed my laptop we left so fast.

We're going to see Missouri.  Dean seems to think she'll know what the fuck's going on, although all I can ascertain is that Zachariah knows where we are (were), but we're on the move, and Dean had some plan to get the angles off the scent in L.A.  If that's why he handed me the hex bag before he went to piss, then, awesome.  Thanks, Dean.

I wonder how long it's been since he's actually slept that soundly.  He looks calm.  Not muttering about Hell or all tensed up or anything.  I'm glad.  I should push it as far as I can and let him get a few good hours in.  He used to look after me, and now here I am, checking up on him every two minutes.  Jesus.

Dean doesn't know it-- okay, he probably does, because that's like him-- but I'm going cold turkey right now.  I haven't had a headache, or any kind of cravings, since we first went into the Foundation.  Was that last night?  Well, it hasn't been that long, if that's the case, but I feel good.  I feel sane.  I don't need that shit, and I don't want it.

Anyway, Xander... he seems cool.  We haven't gotten much past pleasantries and that he likes pie as much as Dean does, but he obviously isn't phased by this shit.

|| + || + ||

Sam palmed the wheel of the Impala, staring at the road, beginning to feel a little dazed by the interstate. Dean was asleep-- really, asleep-- in the backseat, and Sam couldn't help checking the rear view mirror over and over to make sure he was still back there. One of Dean's five albums was playing, and Sam reached over and turned down the volume... not enough to cut it out and make the car ride into awkward silence land, but enough to be heard over it.

"So, Xander. Tell me somethin' about yourself."

Sam Winchester [userpic]

This is Sam Winchester; I can't come to the OOC right now...

August 19th, 2009 (09:57 pm)

So leave me a message. 

< back | 0 - 10 |