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Post by AERONA RILEY ARAPHEN on Nov 6, 2011 19:17:33 GMT -8
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» call the peacemaker « » death to the girl at the end of the serenade « Riley looked up at the massive mansion that was the Winchester Mystery House, a bit of a frown on her face. She knew the legends, the stories, and they weren't much of a cause for concern. The spirits that were said to inhabit the house were simply those fallen at the end of the Winchester Rifles; couldn't be that hard to track down, right? After all, the rifle wasn't even that good of a gun to begin with; who would want to use such a crappy gun? Of course, it's possible that this wasn't even true, that the so called spirits were simply a fabrication of supernatural enthusiasts in the area, and that the psychic who told her to build the house was a fraud. From Riley's experience, psychics were all frauds, simply cheating people out of their hard earned money for false information about the so called malevolent spirits haunting them. Mrs. Winchester should have just gone to a hunter; they'd have been able to tell her the truth, investigate the house, and if it was true, salt and burn the corpses and rid her of the spirits. Easy as that. That's what hunters did, after all; why not let them do their job?
In order to get an inside look at the House without breaking in in the middle of the night, she'd decided to pay for one of the guided tours through the house and learn about some of the lesser known legends surrounding the mansion. It would probably help her to understand what was going on, and if there were even spirits present in the House. She sighed, shouldering her backpack and starting out towards the front gate. She'd rather do things on her own instead of having someone who isn't an expert on the supernatural tell her what went on during the House's construction, but it wasn't like she could go back in time and see things the way they were at that time, so she had to go off of people telling her. When she got to the gate, she was quickly processed, stamped, and ushered inside, as the tour was about to start. She got to the front of the pack as they headed out, listening intently with her EMF detector in her pocket. She'd taken great pains to disguise it as an iPod, and even going out and buying earbuds from a gas station so she could pass as a bored college student only half listening to the tour guide's explanations of the lore surrounding the House. Paranoia was really one of her driving factors, and though most of the time it was unwarranted, sometimes it was necessary. And who knows? Today might just be one of those days.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ » first Riley post! whoo! «tagged » - - - - - - deanie bear and sasquatch 457 - - - - - « wordslyrics » - - - - - - green day elevenie - - - - - - « credit |
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Post by DEAN WINCHESTER on Nov 6, 2011 21:56:14 GMT -8
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» they choose the path « » where no-one goes « "Dude. He knocked up a chick, built a gun, caused mass destruction, pissed off a whole bunch of spirits, and then got stir crazy and tried to set a world record for first guy gettin' lost in his own home. You sure we're not related?" Dean took his eyes off the road for a moment to turn to his brother, brows raised quizzically. Had he actually listened to Sam's last six explanations of the place he might have gotten the picture that the Winchesters -these Winchesters- weren't half as badass as that line gave them credit to be. Dude was a gun maker, not a shooter. Which explained why the gun wasn't even close to the best around. The house was built to appease vengeful spirits, something Sam and Dean wouldn't have done save the others life depending on it. But really, who cared about their deceased non-namesakes? They were headed to the remake of the Haunted Mansion to crash the ghost party of the century-- and the century before that. No angels, no demons, no hell or apocalypse none of the things he'd made it his nine to five job to ignore, five to eight to bitch about, and then drink until god knows when so he didn't have to- well... It didn't matter. Cause they were dealing with ghosts. Kill-'em-with-a-big-gun-full-of-rock-salt ghosts.And if that prospect wasn't enough to trigger the Dean that once was, the slew of bad jokes involving their name hosting their hunt did more than the trick.
He took his hand off the steering wheel to flip a page in the leaflet for the house's tours, paper resting between his right leg and the edge of the seat. Of course, it wasn't like reading and driving was his most dangerous past time. Most of the information was garbage. He didn't really understand why they were heading out int he daylight to begin with. Not many of the incidents were reported on guided tours, and frankly, the last place Dean wanted to spend his day was in a big group of freaks led by some old guy in shorts -- despite the fact that Sam said nerdboy stereotyping was wrong. There was really only one thing in the add that caught his attention. You could say he reading was as selective as his hearing. "You know, whoever is related to these not-so-Winchesters are loaded. I'm talkin' sit on your ass and still bring in a few thousand loaded. You sure we can't adopt some great great great relatives for a week? I'm thinking Hawaiian vacation time."
He tossed the leaflet to his younger brother with a motion clearly suggesting he see for himself. He smirked as they turned onto the next street, pointing up at the sign. Winchester Street. "Looks like they rolled out the red carpet for us." Despite the house only creeping into their line of sight, the line of parked cars assured them that a promising crowd had gathered. Promising if annoying crowds of ignorant people were useful for anything other than a cover while they slipped away. Somehow he managed to find a spot he deemed appropriate for the Impala and they made it inside just in time for the tour.
"Lucky us," Dean muttered with a forced smile as a woman cheery enough to be a flight attendant ushered them inside. Dean hardly made it two rooms inside before the urge to correct the man leading them forced him to clench his teeth in a physical restraint. He didn't even know the history of the house, and he knew that this guy was off. In effort to keep himself from blowing their cover, he casually switched the jack of his headphones from his EMF walk-man to his actual music player in his pocket. Really, he didn't need it. If there were ghosts here, and they wanted to be found, everyone was going to know about it.
As Metallica started playing he looked over the crowd of people. And old couple listening solemnly. A group of school geeks enjoying this far too much. A woman trying to control her child. A bored looking teenager that probably should have been helping with said child but was too busy staring off at another woman who was... well first of all, extremely good looking. And secondly, surveying the room and the people in a way that made him double take back at Sam. he was taking mental notes. She was taking mental notes. But the fuck was she doing Sam's job for? 'Hey," he nudged his brother, "Check out the red head." Of course, that probably came out sounding like something else entirely. Well, alright- his first thought. But really, he wasn't that easily distracted from the job. "Not like that. She looks like you. Hunter?" It hardly needed confirmation, but Dean couldn't help the annoyance underlying in his tone. They didn't need her here, and he didn't want her here. of course, it wasn't like that logic had ever made things work out nicely for them before. As the group turned a corner, Dean signaled Sam again and then lagged behind, pulling open a well camouflaged side door that would lead to a hallway no right minded tour guide would have this lot enter. Unfurnished, maybe even unfinished- it radiated spooky. Dean let himself in. "Bingo."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ » -crosses fingers- make sense? «tagged » - - - - - - riles and samantha more than 900 - - - - - « wordslyrics » - - - - - - led zeppelin elevenie - - - - - - « credit |
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Post by SAM WINCHESTER on Nov 9, 2011 9:34:38 GMT -8
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after all these years, one found religion and the other lost faith. one sold something that he never could replace. both looked back to see if the coast was clear. one hits the bottle till his problems go away. the other never made it home from school that day. sometimes I wish I could just disappear.  Sam took a deep breath and gave his brother one of those classic looks from the passenger seat. The two of them had already been over the information about the Winchester House, but Dean seemed insistent—even if joking—that they were related. Sam looked down at the papers full of background information he had printed off. “William Wirt Winchester, June 22, 1837 to March 7, 1881. The guy was the treasurer of Winchester Repeating Arms and was until he died, just a place that makes guns. Though I guess he kinda sounds like us.” |
[/b] He sighed and looked out the front windshield. There was so much speculation and rumors about the famous Winchester Mystery House that Sam knew they would have a hard time sifting through fact from fiction. There was a chance things were rigged inside the house for guest amusement. Not like people haven’t done that before. Still, Sam was anxious and excited about getting a chance to finally check the place out. The biggest mystery was exactly how they had gone so long without making their way to the house in the first place. Sam was brought out of his thoughts as the leaflet of the house floated onto his lap. He pursed his lips, and thumbed through it again. “The wife thought spirits would kill her if she finished the house, so she never did. But no one in the family kept it; it was auctioned off and turned into a tourist attraction. Go figure.”[/b] Sam paused and rolled his head over to Dean with a slight cheeky smirk. “Besides, to get to Hawaii you gotta take a plane you realize that right? Unless you want to get on a boat.”[/b] he added going back to scanning over the leaflet. He knew his brother’s fear or extreme dislike of airplanes. It always made Sam chuckle slightly. He looked up when Dean pointed out the sign. Sam’s lips pulled tight across his teeth. This was going to be a nightmare; there were people everywhere though it was possible to slip away and possibly go unnoticed. Hell, the place was huge and had doors and stairs that led nowhere, Sam was more worried about getting lost than getting caught. The act of Dean trying to be sly and switch from work to pleasure with a music player did not go completely unnoticed by Sam. Instead of saying something Sam just rolled his eyes and followed along beside his brother keeping his hands in his pockets and a watchful eye. He, unlike his brother, was actually listening to the tour. Sam already knew the majority of the information as he had the papers full of the same notes back in the car. A nudge to his side took Sam away from the nice little history lesson of the house. His brow creased thinking that Dean had found something interesting. But the only thing Dean had found was a young set of legs with fiery hair. His look of interest quickly melted into one of disapproval. “Dude, seriously?” he whispered. Sam puffed out his chest and rolled his shoulders back the way he normally did when trying to put up with Dean’s lust. He sighed and looked toward the girl tilting his head a little. She did look a bit suspicious, but not enough to get her noticed except by those who were looking. Sam glanced to his brother, “Yeah, probably.” What exactly were the chances of another hunter being here on the same day and time as they were? It wasn’t exactly comforting to see other hunters. In fact spotting them often turned out as a bad omen. Get too many hunters in one place things get messy and complicated. Too many lives at stake cause for greater idiotic rash decisions. As the group moved on Sam slowed and pretended to be observing a certain piece of art in the room before turning back to Dean. He was already helping himself to one of the many rooms in the Winchester Mystery House. Sam quietly followed behind his mind still on that other hunter wondering if she had spotted and pegged them already. [/div][/left] [/td][/tr][/td][/tr][/table] TEMPLATE BY KHRISTIAN OF CAUTION 2.0, LYRICS BY ADEMA[/center] |
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Post by AERONA RILEY ARAPHEN on Nov 13, 2011 16:41:41 GMT -8
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» call the peacemaker « » death to the girl at the end of the serenade « Since Riley was listening to the tour guide, her EMF iPod, the creaking of the house, and the mutterings of the crowd all at once, it would be surprising to any normal person to know that Riley had actually heard -- with perfect clarity, she would add -- the exchange near the back of the pack. She didn't dare risk turning around and revealing to the other two hunters that she'd heard them talking about her, but she now had two options. Now that there were other hunters here, she could either follow them and discuss teaming up for this hunt, or steer clear of them completely and try to complete the hunt on her own. Of course, she wouldn't need any help -- she was a perfectly capable hunter in her own right; that was what she was created for, after all -- but on a hunt as muddled up as this one, it might be a good idea to at least go and talk to the guys, maybe compare some information, get their opinions on the hunt. Maybe she could even learn something from them; she definitely wasn't the "proper" hunter that everyone expected when they ran into her. She knew things, she hadn't learned them, and that pissed people off.
She pretended to be interested in one of the stained glass windows, though it wasn't that hard to pretend. She'd noticed that Mrs. Winchester had been rather preoccupied with the number thirteen and spider web patterns, and the window reflected this perfectly. The glass was peppered with the pattern as it spread across the entire pane, and there were thirteen instances of things in arrangement of thirteens. She absently designated Mrs. Winchester as one whose life was controlled by superstition and the aspects of the supernatural she chose to believe in, as shown rather plainly by the fact that her house was specifically built to deter angry spirits. By the time she came back to being aware of her surroundings, the tour was long gone, and a camouflaged door was being pulled open and shut behind her. The other two hunters were investigating already, the tour just being a diversion to get inside the House. She took one last look around the corner the group had gone to, and, upon seeing nothing, she pulled out the shotgun she'd concealed at her hip. The green coat that concealed her wings did another great thing as it concealed the rather large gun quite well. She pulled the silencer out of a pocket of the coat, screwing it on with no real expression on her face. She was definitely prepared for anything, as she had the shotgun, a rifle, and a revolver currently on her person; the rifle was concealed on the other hip, and the handgun was in the back, tucked into her belt. In three different pockets she had a couple replacement magazines for the rifle, several handfuls of buckshot cartridges carefully packed full of rock salt for the shotgun, and a few speedloaders for her revolver.
With the silencer screwed into place and the coast clear, she headed toward the camouflaged door the guys had slipped into. She kept the shotgun down, with her finger off the trigger, as was proper gun-handling protocol. She pulled open the door and went inside, shutting it behind her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ » teh coat of awesomesauce «tagged » - - - - - - deanie bear and sasquatch 558 - - - - - « wordslyrics » - - - - - - green day elevenie - - - - - - « credit |
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Post by DEAN WINCHESTER on May 2, 2012 16:21:43 GMT -8
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» they choose the path « » where no-one goes « "Boats are cool," Dean flashed his brother a grin. They obviously were nothing compared to the Impala, but there was no way that any boat could possibly be worse than a plane; he didn't have to ever be on one to bet on it. Surprisingly, hunting hadn't taken them out to the middle of the ocean (yet), and he really did doubt that Sam would opt for a Hawaii trip any time soon. (It was a toss up for him, personally. Hot chicks in bikinis were equally as important as reminding angels and demons just how much he was the highlight of their days (or not) But Dean was cool with the haunted house idea..for now.)
He rolled his eyes at Sam's complete misunderstand of what he was getting at (Yeah, Sam started it this time. He's the first one to mention the chick's attractiveness out loud. Which, to this point, could only equal she's a demon...or werewolf..or vampire..or other possessed being who in the near future will always try to kill us. Needless to say, Sammy wasn't getting a date approved any time soon). He didn't trust her, and so when the door opened and closed behind them, he wasn't surprised in the least.
Before it had even shut completely he'd turned, gun out,and drawn, and trained on the possible hunter/supernatural creature/hot chick in the wrong place at the wrong time. And like said, he wasn't really surprised to find it was the only person in the building who had potential to pass as all three. He moved slightly in front of Sam, closer to her, and didn't drop the gun. "Hey there, Red, I think you must have took a wrong turn. The tour- they're on out that way. You outta go catch up before they get to far. I'd put that thing away though first, just as a word of advice." he pointed to her gun, gave a small smirk "Tends to cause some alarm in a crowd."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ » -crosses fingers- make sense? «tagged » - - - - - - riles and samantha more than 900 - - - - - « wordslyrics » - - - - - - led zeppelin elevenie - - - - - - « credit |
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