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Once Sam and Molly had figured out what was going on with her, and that it got rid of her empathy, Sam sent a message to Bo. Bo had been avoiding them since the ritual. Not completely, since she wasn't sleeping with Loki anymore and she still needed to feed. And she still loved Sam, he was pretty sure. But still, avoiding them.
Hey, baby. You okay with all this powers weirdness? Molls and I both got zapped.
Zapped, but with their new powers, they were in a seriously better place for talking things out. No demon-blood temper tantrums from him. No emotional overload for Molls. So unless Bo ended up with Regina's powers or something, it might be the best chance they'd have to set things right.
And he wanted that. He really wanted it.
So he sat with an arm around Molls and her curled up against him while they waited for a response from Bo.
Hey, baby. You okay with all this powers weirdness? Molls and I both got zapped.
Zapped, but with their new powers, they were in a seriously better place for talking things out. No demon-blood temper tantrums from him. No emotional overload for Molls. So unless Bo ended up with Regina's powers or something, it might be the best chance they'd have to set things right.
And he wanted that. He really wanted it.
So he sat with an arm around Molls and her curled up against him while they waited for a response from Bo.
A little while after his mom had arrived, Sam called her room and invited her to join him for a meal. It felt awkward and uncomfortable, but it was the right thing to do. Since she agreed, he arranged to meet her out by the pool.
It was a pleasant evening, and several heat lamps had been placed around the bar to make taking meals outside more comfortable. Kitty had seen him go out and gave him a thumbs up to say she'd check on him and his guest later. He sat and waited for her to arrived, fingers tapping awkwardly on the table.
It was a pleasant evening, and several heat lamps had been placed around the bar to make taking meals outside more comfortable. Kitty had seen him go out and gave him a thumbs up to say she'd check on him and his guest later. He sat and waited for her to arrived, fingers tapping awkwardly on the table.
All his life, Sam had just wanted normal. Now he had mostly normal, if you didn't count his mother returning from the dead, two women feeding on him, and an Inn in the middle of nowhere that periodically hooked up with some other nowhere, and he was bored out of his goddamned mind.
Nothing against the women in his life. His sex life had never been better. And getting to know Mom was pretty great. But he'd still kill for something worthwhile to do. He'd even finally broken down and properly learned his Latin from the Wheelock's he'd picked up in Bonesville.
He'd run out of things to teach himself immediately, so he went for a run and found the valley where he and Bo sometimes sparred filled with a bunch of lightning charred palo verde trees. His frustration at the pointlessness of it all bubbled over. His anger flared and one of the trees exploded into ash.
Nothing like that had happened since Dean left and even that had been mild. Because it was something to teach himself, he tried to do it again. By the time the Bo found him, half the trees were dust and he was covered in streaks of soot.
Nothing against the women in his life. His sex life had never been better. And getting to know Mom was pretty great. But he'd still kill for something worthwhile to do. He'd even finally broken down and properly learned his Latin from the Wheelock's he'd picked up in Bonesville.
He'd run out of things to teach himself immediately, so he went for a run and found the valley where he and Bo sometimes sparred filled with a bunch of lightning charred palo verde trees. His frustration at the pointlessness of it all bubbled over. His anger flared and one of the trees exploded into ash.
Nothing like that had happened since Dean left and even that had been mild. Because it was something to teach himself, he tried to do it again. By the time the Bo found him, half the trees were dust and he was covered in streaks of soot.
[Log] Blood deep (Sam x Caroline)
Dec. 12th, 2017 06:12 pmDate: October-December
Summary: Caroline has needs. Sam wants to oblige. Sex actually happens at the end.
( I've always been like this. I hate bullies. This place is a bully. Helping you and everyone else is a way of fighting back. Why do you do all the things you do? )
Summary: Caroline has needs. Sam wants to oblige. Sex actually happens at the end.
( I've always been like this. I hate bullies. This place is a bully. Helping you and everyone else is a way of fighting back. Why do you do all the things you do? )
They crossed the small stretch of parking lot without talking, which suited Sam. It was taking all of his mental capacity to remember: 115 was occupied by the manacled blonde, 114 had double four-poster beds, 113 didn't exist, 112 was Kitty, 111 had double beds, 110... 110 had been Henry's room. Part of him wanted to resist, but it was a small part as the rest was currently insisting on naked, now.
He glanced over to see that even though he had a good few inches on her, Bo (and her long, toned legs) had no trouble keeping up with him. It wasn't like him, coming on to a chick he'd known for five minutes, but something about her screamed yes before he'd even thought to consider the question. He might, a little, understand why Dean preferred one-night stands or casual hook-ups. No pretenses, no obligations, no guilt.
Not much guilt. He was still Sam.
That thought carried him to the door of 110. Technically, it should be locked, but Sam had a skeleton key for exorcising or otherwise dealing with ghosts, so he put his hand on the door, slid the card in, and as it swung open, he reached for the woman behind him.
He glanced over to see that even though he had a good few inches on her, Bo (and her long, toned legs) had no trouble keeping up with him. It wasn't like him, coming on to a chick he'd known for five minutes, but something about her screamed yes before he'd even thought to consider the question. He might, a little, understand why Dean preferred one-night stands or casual hook-ups. No pretenses, no obligations, no guilt.
Not much guilt. He was still Sam.
That thought carried him to the door of 110. Technically, it should be locked, but Sam had a skeleton key for exorcising or otherwise dealing with ghosts, so he put his hand on the door, slid the card in, and as it swung open, he reached for the woman behind him.
It seemed like weeks ago, and maybe had been; time moved weirdly in this place, lurching into high gear for a day or so before and after what they'd come to call Check-In Day and then stuttering almost to a halt a few days after. Except that it wasn't a halt in the sense that time crawled. Days just passed from one to the next without any effort to track them.
Even though Sam did track them in his journal, he still seemed to lose track of whole days. Someone suspicious, like... his brother who wasn't here... would blame it on magic or compulsion. Sam didn't. He knew perfectly well that if he wanted to, he could maintain a higher awareness. It was just that that way lay crazy.
So, yeah. It seemed like weeks ago that he and Henry had planned to work on notebooks that could send audio. And he had done a bunch more theoretical work on it based on what he knew about the original enchantment, and some combination of will and wireless theory. But it seemed pretty pointless now. Which... was what he'd actually asked Henry to meet him about.
In his room, in case his bull-headedness escalated the conversation to shouting. Henry didn't seem like the shouting type, but he was a Winchester and they all got it from somewhere.
Even though Sam did track them in his journal, he still seemed to lose track of whole days. Someone suspicious, like... his brother who wasn't here... would blame it on magic or compulsion. Sam didn't. He knew perfectly well that if he wanted to, he could maintain a higher awareness. It was just that that way lay crazy.
So, yeah. It seemed like weeks ago that he and Henry had planned to work on notebooks that could send audio. And he had done a bunch more theoretical work on it based on what he knew about the original enchantment, and some combination of will and wireless theory. But it seemed pretty pointless now. Which... was what he'd actually asked Henry to meet him about.
In his room, in case his bull-headedness escalated the conversation to shouting. Henry didn't seem like the shouting type, but he was a Winchester and they all got it from somewhere.
Gamers wanted
Jun. 12th, 2017 05:02 pmNot long after Regina's flyers appear, Sam posts several copies of this one
Looking to start a weekly D&D game, first-timers welcome. Can DM, will, but also willing to let someone else have the big chair.
No more than six players per group. If there are too many, we'll make another group.
Interested? Drop your name on the list, call or just come talk to me. Whatever works for you.
Contact: Sam Winchester, room 102, ext 102
Looking to start a weekly D&D game, first-timers welcome. Can DM, will, but also willing to let someone else have the big chair.
No more than six players per group. If there are too many, we'll make another group.
Interested? Drop your name on the list, call or just come talk to me. Whatever works for you.
Contact: Sam Winchester, room 102, ext 102
[For Rebekah] Gone
May. 24th, 2017 01:27 pmBy the second night Dean didn't answer Sam's journal messaging or come back to the room, Sam knew he wouldn't be doing either. He searched the hotel anyway, and the desert, but he knew he wouldn't find Dean's body. If Dean were dead, he'd know it.
But gone wasn't any safer.
Where had he gone? Back to the time he came from? Maybe. Maybe he'd remember and not make the damned deal. He had to hope... because he wasn't going to be there to get him out of it. Fuck.
Sick to his stomach, and so not ready to talk to Henry about this, Sam sat and tried to think his way out of this until his head hurt. He tried to sleep but couldn't. And finally, as a last resort, picked up the room phone and called Rebekah. She was the only person whose company he could be in without having to talk if he didn't want to.
"Bex?" he said when she picked up. "It's me. Can you... Are you busy?"
But gone wasn't any safer.
Where had he gone? Back to the time he came from? Maybe. Maybe he'd remember and not make the damned deal. He had to hope... because he wasn't going to be there to get him out of it. Fuck.
Sick to his stomach, and so not ready to talk to Henry about this, Sam sat and tried to think his way out of this until his head hurt. He tried to sleep but couldn't. And finally, as a last resort, picked up the room phone and called Rebekah. She was the only person whose company he could be in without having to talk if he didn't want to.
"Bex?" he said when she picked up. "It's me. Can you... Are you busy?"
[For Rebekah] Who stalks the stalker?
Feb. 14th, 2017 11:33 pmBy midnight, the incidents had slowed to an apparent stop. Sam's quest had slowed hours before when he and Molly finally agreed to go consult other resources. Whatever this was, no one had actually gotten hurt that he knew of, although he'd heard a disturbing rumor about Rebekah that had him kicking himself for not checking up on her sooner.
He'd rung her room, but got no answer. The Innkeeper politely informed him she was still registered as a guest. After turning down his fifth offer of towels for the day, he pulled on his jacket and went looking for her. Hopefully, the rumor wasn't true, and equally hopefully she'd managed to avoid biting anyone who wasn't going to take it well.
When he finally spotted her, she was so obviously stalking that he feared the worst. But instead of looking for someone to eat, she'd headed toward the stairs to her floor. "Hey," he called, just loudly enough that she'd hear him. "Rebekah?"
He'd rung her room, but got no answer. The Innkeeper politely informed him she was still registered as a guest. After turning down his fifth offer of towels for the day, he pulled on his jacket and went looking for her. Hopefully, the rumor wasn't true, and equally hopefully she'd managed to avoid biting anyone who wasn't going to take it well.
When he finally spotted her, she was so obviously stalking that he feared the worst. But instead of looking for someone to eat, she'd headed toward the stairs to her floor. "Hey," he called, just loudly enough that she'd hear him. "Rebekah?"
Oct. 2007-->Dec. 25 - Jan. 29
Jan. 29th, 2017 10:44 pmOctober 2007
Maple Springs, New York
Vengeful spirit acting out fairy tales. New twist on the oldest theme. Thought and will shaping expression of spirit's anger.
December 25-26, 20xx?
San Luis Obispo, CA?
Shot the crossroads demon, wound up in something out of Hotel California. Dean's here, doesn't remember the deal, thinks it's back before Dad died for him. It's him, though, no skinwalkers, no demons, might be amnesia with the trauma, but I left him in the hotel room. Tomorrow's problem?
Two girls here, too. One blonde, Stephanie. One, Native American? Indian? Snow White. Some kind of overlap from the fairy tales? Shouldn't be. Maybe I'm dreaming.
December 26, 20xx?
Still here, wherever here is. Nothing's changed. Dean seems fine. Kinda pissed about not having shoes. Girls seem same as yesterday. Innkeeper keeps offering us towels. Chef wants to know if we want chicken eggs benedict, chicken sandwiches, country fried chicken.
December 27, 20xx
Ghosts in the hotel. Not haunting, just here. Salting doors and windows.
January 1, 20xx
New arrivals. 29 of them. No one Dean and I recognized but Henry Winchester recognized me. Us. Dad's father. He hummed the tune Dad used to. It was from a music box. He'd been clawed. By a "Knight of Hell" (cross-reference? nothing in the journal) who wanted a key??? Came by blood sigil, blood calls to blood, Dad's dead, so it found us...
Dean doesn't want to believe it. Or deal with it. But it was Henry's journal. His picture.
We were supposed to be something called Men of Letters.
Also met: gorgeous blond wizard, Molly; nice but weird girl who reads minds (not demon), River; young girl from someplace called Westeros, Sansa; another really pretty blonde, spooked by me, no name (some kind of supernatural?); Australian cop named Robinson, from 1929; girl with weapons, recently killed zombies/undead.
Entries every day...
January 22
Met Rebekah today. Dean met her day 1. Details about Rebekah's dietary needs and Sam's "help" not mentioned at all.
January 29
Haven't seen the guy in the chair for a couple of days. He'd be our first to go missing. Really hope he's not dead. Going to have to look for him tomorrow.
Maple Springs, New York
Vengeful spirit acting out fairy tales. New twist on the oldest theme. Thought and will shaping expression of spirit's anger.
December 25-26, 20xx?
San Luis Obispo, CA?
Shot the crossroads demon, wound up in something out of Hotel California. Dean's here, doesn't remember the deal, thinks it's back before Dad died for him. It's him, though, no skinwalkers, no demons, might be amnesia with the trauma, but I left him in the hotel room. Tomorrow's problem?
Two girls here, too. One blonde, Stephanie. One, Native American? Indian? Snow White. Some kind of overlap from the fairy tales? Shouldn't be. Maybe I'm dreaming.
December 26, 20xx?
Still here, wherever here is. Nothing's changed. Dean seems fine. Kinda pissed about not having shoes. Girls seem same as yesterday. Innkeeper keeps offering us towels. Chef wants to know if we want chicken eggs benedict, chicken sandwiches, country fried chicken.
December 27, 20xx
Ghosts in the hotel. Not haunting, just here. Salting doors and windows.
January 1, 20xx
New arrivals. 29 of them. No one Dean and I recognized but Henry Winchester recognized me. Us. Dad's father. He hummed the tune Dad used to. It was from a music box. He'd been clawed. By a "Knight of Hell" (cross-reference? nothing in the journal) who wanted a key??? Came by blood sigil, blood calls to blood, Dad's dead, so it found us...
Dean doesn't want to believe it. Or deal with it. But it was Henry's journal. His picture.
We were supposed to be something called Men of Letters.
Also met: gorgeous blond wizard, Molly; nice but weird girl who reads minds (not demon), River; young girl from someplace called Westeros, Sansa; another really pretty blonde, spooked by me, no name (some kind of supernatural?); Australian cop named Robinson, from 1929; girl with weapons, recently killed zombies/undead.
Entries every day...
January 22
Met Rebekah today. Dean met her day 1. Details about Rebekah's dietary needs and Sam's "help" not mentioned at all.
January 29
Haven't seen the guy in the chair for a couple of days. He'd be our first to go missing. Really hope he's not dead. Going to have to look for him tomorrow.
Sam tells Dean what he learned from Henry.
( Then it wouldn't be later and the skeletons in their family closet would explode in the middle of the Copper Cafe )
( Then it wouldn't be later and the skeletons in their family closet would explode in the middle of the Copper Cafe )
Sam and Dean try to figure out what's what after they part ways from the girls.
( It was purple and gold and looked like the Church puked Mardi Gras all over it. )
( It was purple and gold and looked like the Church puked Mardi Gras all over it. )
