09-21-2015, 02:14 PM
“Yeah,” the hunter-turned-demon snarled weakly, “it’s a shame I couldn’t stay in this body for longer.”
Mary Lou’s expression peaked with amusement, her hand still pressed firmly into his face. “Oh, humility!” she gawked, “How strange to see that in a Winchester.”
“I guess I’m just gonna have to leave this meatsuit for a second…” his words trailed off as his consciousness faded, body slumping down onto the floor.
The reaper grinned and released her angelic grip on him, content that she had sucked every ounce of life from his frame. Taking a short step back, she brushed her shoulder and shrugged. “Well that was easier than I thou-“ Interrupting the woman’s snide celebration, an inky, thick stream of vapor erupted from Dean’s mouth and consumed her in a veil of darkness and confusion.
Dean’s demonic smoke form cycled from his mouth in a huge burst and then back up his nose, creating a violent cyclone of demonic energy that engulfed the woman as he French-inhaled his own essence. Mary Lou was momentarily bewildered before she staggered back out of the fog, swatting at the air. The last of the bleak smog cycled up into his body and he convulsed as his spirit took seat. His eyes snapped open, black as the heart of Satan. “Just for a second though,” he said with all the confidence of a leading man.
When the Reaper opened her mouth to retort, he slammed his boot into her gut, doubling her over and sending her back a few paces. Dean bound to his feet and thrust the dagger in the woman’s direction, only to be caught by a powerful, unseen force in mid-swing. “How many ways do I have to say it Dean?” she snapped, “You ain’t got the stuff, sugar!” The power washed over him and cast him back against the wall, the old wood creaking under her power. “Now hold still and die.”
“Wait,” he grunted, struggling to turn his head and face her, the plaster crumbling all around him.
“What!?” she shrieked, frustrated beyond words.
The hunter tilted his chin and gestured it behind her. She turned just in time to see the wooden stock smash into her jaw, Sinestro throwing all of his weight into swing of the rifle. She stumbled holding her face, but it only took a split second before she recovered and slammed her fist into Sinestro’s ribs, dispatching him through the air like a rag doll. The deputy crashed through the front window of the building and rolled into the street, tiny shards of glass imbedded in his skin and his ribs were almost surely broken.
A deep slash ruined the back of Mary Lou’s clothing, blood trickling down her back with a flash of light. Dean brandished the weapon to strike again, the angel automatically catching his wrist and attempting to restrain him. “Looks like you don’t have the juice you’re used to, huh?” Dean laughed as the two pushed back and forth.
“Trust, me, I’ve got more than I need,” she responded, a bit of heat in her voice now. Wrinkles formed over her forehead and around her nose as she exerted herself and with a quick twist she snapped the demon’s wrist backwards, bone protruding from the skin.
Dean reeled back, his shattered joint flopping as he regained his footing. “Well, that would’a hurt,” he growled from behind a snarling smirk, “if I wasn’t a demon.” He snapped his wrist back into place with a grotesque crackle and wiggled his fingers. “But, you know, demon.”
Rolling her eyes, another wall of telekinetic force hurled the man into the kitchen table, which he toppled over anticlimactically. “Angel,” she retorted with a petulant snap. Leaning down, she grabbed the hunter back his neck and lifted him from the ground, her powerful grip crushing every structure beneath it. “And I’ve had enough.”
The windows shattered and a bullet tore through her shoulder, two more following it as Sinestro quickly fanned the lever of the rifle and continued to fire from outside. She glanced down at her tattered dress, eyes wide with fury. “Seriously, I’m done now.”
The angel vanished from Sinestro sight in an instant and he quickly scanned the interior of the building, his weapon sweeping left and right. When her hands snatched him up from behind, he jolted with surprise. With one hand she took hold of his right upper-arm and, using her thumb, began to apply pressure. The humerus began to audibly splinter and the deputy screamed in agony.
Dean’s voice roared, “DUCK!” which Sinestro did, just in time for the First Blade to soar past his head and slice open her cheek. She screamed as the radiant white light of her being shined from beneath her flesh, a tiny part of her essence cut away by the artifact dagger.
Loose of the reaper’s grip, Sinestro again bashed the woman with the butt of his rifle and created some distance between them. He kicked the First Blade into his hand and tossed it back to Dean, who snatched it from is flight hungrily. Without skipping a beat, the deputy used his one good arm to squeeze the trigger and put a bullet in the Reaper’s gut. “The ritual!” he shouted to the demon as Mary Lou recovered and swung a fist at the korugaran.
“It didn’t work!” Dean shouted through the obliterated window, still gathering up the scattered components as he shouted.
His partner flew through the adjacent glass panel and onto the floor of the building, Mary Lou’s fist still posed from the punch she dealt him. “It’s like the seeds, Dean!” Sinestro yelled, holding the rifle between himself and the reaper as she dived in on top of him.
“What the hell are you talking about?!” the demon yelled as he kicked the frenzied angel off his partner and parried another powerful blow when she retaliated.
“You-“ the deputy grunted as another supernaturally powerful blow tossed him into a stud, knocking several frames from the wall. Gasping, he continued, “You made the items, but you didn’t create them with their true worth!” The ex-lantern grit his teeth as Mary Lou’s telekinetic power pounded into him, splitting the wooden beam of the structure and sending him toppling through the opening.
“What does that even mean?” Dean shouted, sprinting in with quick knife strikes, each of which were each easily parried by the martially proficient prostitute. “I made the gold and… and-“ he grunted, managing to deflect yet another attack, “the other stuff!”
Groaning, the injured deputy leaned up from his crater in the house’s wall. He cough and cleared his throat, continuing, “You made those things, yes, but you didn’t make ritual components! What the items can do, their true value wasn’t represented in the cost you paid to create them!”
“So, what?” Dean snapped back, laying a heavy boot in yet unfazed death-dealer, “I just made a rock and some flowers?!”
Sinestro pulled himself free of the hole and slumped to the ground, a shower of dry-wall and wood washing over him. “Yes, that’s about right.” He stood and whipped his lever action down with one hand and then swung it back up, priming the weapon. “Omnilium represents value, Dean!” Holding the rifle in front of himself with his good arm, he took another crack at the angel, then slinging it down again to cock it. “You have to invest the value of the item that you wish to use! You have to put that value into the item when you make it! A seed with no value cannot grow, and a chunk of gold is just pretty metal until you make it something more!”
Dean grabbed the woman by the shoulders and threw her into Sinestro’s shot, yet another bullet perforating her back. “Ok, I think I get it!” Slashing again with the First Blade, he kept the angel at bay long enough to maneuver in front of the circle. “You gotta keep her off my back long enough to finish summoning this sigil trap, then!”
Sighing, Sinestro lurched forward and flexed his broken arm. “Alright, damnit!” he swore and barreled after the clearly superior being.
Mary Lou’s expression peaked with amusement, her hand still pressed firmly into his face. “Oh, humility!” she gawked, “How strange to see that in a Winchester.”
“I guess I’m just gonna have to leave this meatsuit for a second…” his words trailed off as his consciousness faded, body slumping down onto the floor.
The reaper grinned and released her angelic grip on him, content that she had sucked every ounce of life from his frame. Taking a short step back, she brushed her shoulder and shrugged. “Well that was easier than I thou-“ Interrupting the woman’s snide celebration, an inky, thick stream of vapor erupted from Dean’s mouth and consumed her in a veil of darkness and confusion.
Dean’s demonic smoke form cycled from his mouth in a huge burst and then back up his nose, creating a violent cyclone of demonic energy that engulfed the woman as he French-inhaled his own essence. Mary Lou was momentarily bewildered before she staggered back out of the fog, swatting at the air. The last of the bleak smog cycled up into his body and he convulsed as his spirit took seat. His eyes snapped open, black as the heart of Satan. “Just for a second though,” he said with all the confidence of a leading man.
When the Reaper opened her mouth to retort, he slammed his boot into her gut, doubling her over and sending her back a few paces. Dean bound to his feet and thrust the dagger in the woman’s direction, only to be caught by a powerful, unseen force in mid-swing. “How many ways do I have to say it Dean?” she snapped, “You ain’t got the stuff, sugar!” The power washed over him and cast him back against the wall, the old wood creaking under her power. “Now hold still and die.”
“Wait,” he grunted, struggling to turn his head and face her, the plaster crumbling all around him.
“What!?” she shrieked, frustrated beyond words.
The hunter tilted his chin and gestured it behind her. She turned just in time to see the wooden stock smash into her jaw, Sinestro throwing all of his weight into swing of the rifle. She stumbled holding her face, but it only took a split second before she recovered and slammed her fist into Sinestro’s ribs, dispatching him through the air like a rag doll. The deputy crashed through the front window of the building and rolled into the street, tiny shards of glass imbedded in his skin and his ribs were almost surely broken.
A deep slash ruined the back of Mary Lou’s clothing, blood trickling down her back with a flash of light. Dean brandished the weapon to strike again, the angel automatically catching his wrist and attempting to restrain him. “Looks like you don’t have the juice you’re used to, huh?” Dean laughed as the two pushed back and forth.
“Trust, me, I’ve got more than I need,” she responded, a bit of heat in her voice now. Wrinkles formed over her forehead and around her nose as she exerted herself and with a quick twist she snapped the demon’s wrist backwards, bone protruding from the skin.
Dean reeled back, his shattered joint flopping as he regained his footing. “Well, that would’a hurt,” he growled from behind a snarling smirk, “if I wasn’t a demon.” He snapped his wrist back into place with a grotesque crackle and wiggled his fingers. “But, you know, demon.”
Rolling her eyes, another wall of telekinetic force hurled the man into the kitchen table, which he toppled over anticlimactically. “Angel,” she retorted with a petulant snap. Leaning down, she grabbed the hunter back his neck and lifted him from the ground, her powerful grip crushing every structure beneath it. “And I’ve had enough.”
The windows shattered and a bullet tore through her shoulder, two more following it as Sinestro quickly fanned the lever of the rifle and continued to fire from outside. She glanced down at her tattered dress, eyes wide with fury. “Seriously, I’m done now.”
The angel vanished from Sinestro sight in an instant and he quickly scanned the interior of the building, his weapon sweeping left and right. When her hands snatched him up from behind, he jolted with surprise. With one hand she took hold of his right upper-arm and, using her thumb, began to apply pressure. The humerus began to audibly splinter and the deputy screamed in agony.
Dean’s voice roared, “DUCK!” which Sinestro did, just in time for the First Blade to soar past his head and slice open her cheek. She screamed as the radiant white light of her being shined from beneath her flesh, a tiny part of her essence cut away by the artifact dagger.
Loose of the reaper’s grip, Sinestro again bashed the woman with the butt of his rifle and created some distance between them. He kicked the First Blade into his hand and tossed it back to Dean, who snatched it from is flight hungrily. Without skipping a beat, the deputy used his one good arm to squeeze the trigger and put a bullet in the Reaper’s gut. “The ritual!” he shouted to the demon as Mary Lou recovered and swung a fist at the korugaran.
“It didn’t work!” Dean shouted through the obliterated window, still gathering up the scattered components as he shouted.
His partner flew through the adjacent glass panel and onto the floor of the building, Mary Lou’s fist still posed from the punch she dealt him. “It’s like the seeds, Dean!” Sinestro yelled, holding the rifle between himself and the reaper as she dived in on top of him.
“What the hell are you talking about?!” the demon yelled as he kicked the frenzied angel off his partner and parried another powerful blow when she retaliated.
“You-“ the deputy grunted as another supernaturally powerful blow tossed him into a stud, knocking several frames from the wall. Gasping, he continued, “You made the items, but you didn’t create them with their true worth!” The ex-lantern grit his teeth as Mary Lou’s telekinetic power pounded into him, splitting the wooden beam of the structure and sending him toppling through the opening.
“What does that even mean?” Dean shouted, sprinting in with quick knife strikes, each of which were each easily parried by the martially proficient prostitute. “I made the gold and… and-“ he grunted, managing to deflect yet another attack, “the other stuff!”
Groaning, the injured deputy leaned up from his crater in the house’s wall. He cough and cleared his throat, continuing, “You made those things, yes, but you didn’t make ritual components! What the items can do, their true value wasn’t represented in the cost you paid to create them!”
“So, what?” Dean snapped back, laying a heavy boot in yet unfazed death-dealer, “I just made a rock and some flowers?!”
Sinestro pulled himself free of the hole and slumped to the ground, a shower of dry-wall and wood washing over him. “Yes, that’s about right.” He stood and whipped his lever action down with one hand and then swung it back up, priming the weapon. “Omnilium represents value, Dean!” Holding the rifle in front of himself with his good arm, he took another crack at the angel, then slinging it down again to cock it. “You have to invest the value of the item that you wish to use! You have to put that value into the item when you make it! A seed with no value cannot grow, and a chunk of gold is just pretty metal until you make it something more!”
Dean grabbed the woman by the shoulders and threw her into Sinestro’s shot, yet another bullet perforating her back. “Ok, I think I get it!” Slashing again with the First Blade, he kept the angel at bay long enough to maneuver in front of the circle. “You gotta keep her off my back long enough to finish summoning this sigil trap, then!”
Sighing, Sinestro lurched forward and flexed his broken arm. “Alright, damnit!” he swore and barreled after the clearly superior being.
![[Image: sig2.jpg]](http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v288/KrimTheUnsettler/sig2.jpg)