First Person: This thing on? [Dean's voice is accompanied by the sound of tapping as he taps a finger against the watch front repeatedly. It's totally weird talking to a watch and expecting something to happen, but he's been here long enough to know that it does. Or, that it is supposed to, at least. It doesn't always do what he wants. This would be so much easier if it was a communicator from The Original Series.
He clears his throat, puts on his game face, though it can't be seen.]
Look--whoever's listening out there? This is Dean Winchester. If you're livin' here then you know by now the boogie man is real. What's out there goin' bump in the night isn't good. Thing is, huntin' evil's what I do. Seen some of these things before, but now I'm lookin' for information on a monster.
[He pauses and almost audibly shifts his stance. It's strange to say this to the public and think the majority will get it.]
Hellhounds. They serve demons. Now, I've seen several uglyass dogs in town but they don't quite fit the bill for these pooches and I'm wondering if any are around.
[His voice is calm, level, displaying none of the anxiety he feels with the questioning. Only a few months separate him from the end of his deal. He isn't about to get his hopes up that being dropped off the map in "Ruby City" was going to stop the clock from ticking down. Simple matter is that his time will be up and hellhounds will come for him.]
Anything you, uh, know about it, I'd like to hear. Leave a message at the watch.
[There's a loud click as he snaps the pocket watch closed and ends his call.]
Third Person: The transition wasn’t exactly smooth. At least, it should not have been. Stabbing a demon in the heart didn't usually put you on a train... right? All Dean knew was he was killing the demon-witch one moment, blinking his mind out of a haze on a moving train the next, and that the shift was too coincidental to be unrelated.
Friggin' witches. Friggin' demons!
It would be his luck to be devil-mojo'd to Timbuktu before he ganked her, not that it made him curse any less about it. Arrival by train was apparently common entrance to the city, but Dean was certain the demon-witch had sent him here before she died. One last laugh from the hellbitch, and all that. Hilarious. He would remember to laugh later, after he found his way back to Sam and made sure the demon was good and dead.
Considering the life he lived, it was no surprise to Dean that he fit into this dysfunctional city so well. Ruby City was dangerous. Ironic, considering the name. He'd issued a bitter laugh after learning the name. Ruby was bad news as a demon chick; he figured there was no reason to expect a city to be any different. The worst part was that he was mojo'd off here solo. Samless. He wanted to keep hunting, yeah, but he wanted to do it with his brother at his side where he could keep an eye on Sam. Who knew what trouble the kid would get into without Dean around. He'd make a joke that this time there would be no soul for him to sell in order to save Sam from his stupidity, but no one would be there to listen to the poor crack and give him a bitchface so he kept it to himself. At the very start of all this, a very small part of Dean wondered if the demon had found a way to cash his ticket early and he was on a one-way train ride to the Pit. He would not admit aloud that in that brief moment he had been afraid, and had buried the thought deep inside himself soon after, marking it off as absurd to think that Ruby City, or the train for that matter, could be Hell. Hell it was not, though the supernatural were clearly active.
Monsters were a'plenty for him to hunt, a task Dean Winchester easily accepted as a side-duty, but his number one priority was finding a way back to Sam with the time he had left. He refused to be unsettled by the fact that the city wasn't on the map, but it was just freaking weird how he couldn't seem to leave. He tried, and how hard was it to leave a city? Pick a direction and walk; however, it didn't quite work here, and there were monsters and ghouls and... other things he hadn't had the chance to identify lurking everywhere. He had to be careful without his little brother at his six. It was reminiscent to the period of time after Dad went hunting by himself up until Dean went to selfishly drag Sam out of his perfect apple pie Stanford life. A stab of guilt often accompanied this line of thought hand-in-hand so Dean would take the hardass path and not think about it. Not now. Now, he had a job to do, and that was to get his ass the hell out of Dodge.
{ [CANON] DEAN WINCHESTER || Supernatural || RESERVED || 4 of 4 }
This thing on? [Dean's voice is accompanied by the sound of tapping as he taps a finger against the watch front repeatedly. It's totally weird talking to a watch and expecting something to happen, but he's been here long enough to know that it does. Or, that it is supposed to, at least. It doesn't always do what he wants. This would be so much easier if it was a communicator from The Original Series.
He clears his throat, puts on his game face, though it can't be seen.]
Look--whoever's listening out there? This is Dean Winchester. If you're livin' here then you know by now the boogie man is real. What's out there goin' bump in the night isn't good. Thing is, huntin' evil's what I do. Seen some of these things before, but now I'm lookin' for information on a monster.
[He pauses and almost audibly shifts his stance. It's strange to say this to the public and think the majority will get it.]
Hellhounds. They serve demons. Now, I've seen several uglyass dogs in town but they don't quite fit the bill for these pooches and I'm wondering if any are around.
[His voice is calm, level, displaying none of the anxiety he feels with the questioning. Only a few months separate him from the end of his deal. He isn't about to get his hopes up that being dropped off the map in "Ruby City" was going to stop the clock from ticking down. Simple matter is that his time will be up and hellhounds will come for him.]
Anything you, uh, know about it, I'd like to hear. Leave a message at the watch.
[There's a loud click as he snaps the pocket watch closed and ends his call.]
Third Person:
The transition wasn’t exactly smooth. At least, it should not have been. Stabbing a demon in the heart didn't usually put you on a train... right? All Dean knew was he was killing the demon-witch one moment, blinking his mind out of a haze on a moving train the next, and that the shift was too coincidental to be unrelated.
Friggin' witches. Friggin' demons!
It would be his luck to be devil-mojo'd to Timbuktu before he ganked her, not that it made him curse any less about it. Arrival by train was apparently common entrance to the city, but Dean was certain the demon-witch had sent him here before she died. One last laugh from the hellbitch, and all that. Hilarious. He would remember to laugh later, after he found his way back to Sam and made sure the demon was good and dead.
Considering the life he lived, it was no surprise to Dean that he fit into this dysfunctional city so well. Ruby City was dangerous. Ironic, considering the name. He'd issued a bitter laugh after learning the name. Ruby was bad news as a demon chick; he figured there was no reason to expect a city to be any different. The worst part was that he was mojo'd off here solo. Samless. He wanted to keep hunting, yeah, but he wanted to do it with his brother at his side where he could keep an eye on Sam. Who knew what trouble the kid would get into without Dean around. He'd make a joke that this time there would be no soul for him to sell in order to save Sam from his stupidity, but no one would be there to listen to the poor crack and give him a bitchface so he kept it to himself. At the very start of all this, a very small part of Dean wondered if the demon had found a way to cash his ticket early and he was on a one-way train ride to the Pit. He would not admit aloud that in that brief moment he had been afraid, and had buried the thought deep inside himself soon after, marking it off as absurd to think that Ruby City, or the train for that matter, could be Hell. Hell it was not, though the supernatural were clearly active.
Monsters were a'plenty for him to hunt, a task Dean Winchester easily accepted as a side-duty, but his number one priority was finding a way back to Sam with the time he had left. He refused to be unsettled by the fact that the city wasn't on the map, but it was just freaking weird how he couldn't seem to leave. He tried, and how hard was it to leave a city? Pick a direction and walk; however, it didn't quite work here, and there were monsters and ghouls and... other things he hadn't had the chance to identify lurking everywhere. He had to be careful without his little brother at his six. It was reminiscent to the period of time after Dad went hunting by himself up until Dean went to selfishly drag Sam out of his perfect apple pie Stanford life. A stab of guilt often accompanied this line of thought hand-in-hand so Dean would take the hardass path and not think about it. Not now. Now, he had a job to do, and that was to get his ass the hell out of Dodge.