KayWyn
The Almighty Panda Eyes
There were a number of figures, walking back and forth around the "Base" -- as everyone took to calling it -- quickly. Each were pushing at each other to get to where they were going immediately, no delays, be it the bar, the upper floor, or the exit. Down below in the basement was Cynil, leaned over a table covered in various ingredients. She glanced over to her twin, who was currently laying across a couch with his feet kicked up on the armrest with his head propped up on the other.
"So, any jobs today?" She asked, breaking the silence. His head lifted a moment as he thought before turning to look at her lazily.
"None that I can think of," Sol replied with a tired -- almost zoned-out -- voice, giving a slight shrug as he adjusted his position to have one of his arms behind his head as a make-shift pillow. "But you know we're bound to get something thrown our way; no way they're letting us have a day off."
Before they could really continue talking, the door -- once closed -- was being thrown open. Standing in the door frame, clutching the door knob tightly, was Allen. His sandy blonde hair was falling in front of his face as his chest heaved. His eyes met hers, locked for a moment before he began to quickly make his way over.
"Cynil, I've been looking everywhere for you!" He threw his hands up in exasperation. From the state he was in now? She could see it being a moderate exaggeration, though not too far from the truth. "Detra is having to deal with a bunch of idiots who don't understand the concept of paying us for the last few jobs we've run for them. You know, the ones where it was all 'sure, we'll let it slide, but it'll all add up to a final payment'?" He rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, yeah, I know; the Health Center of Something or Other," Cynil nodded along, leaning against the table and folding her arms over her chest. "They seemed like real dicks."
"Pretty much, though you didn't have to deal with their boss. That guy --" Allen cut himself off, shaking his head. It was then she finally noticed the manila folder being held in his hand as the other was raking through his hair in an attempt to push it back. Not much luck. "--Anyway, you need to go talk to them. Or, you know, find a way to weasel your way out. Like always." He grinned as he started walking backwards a bit before finally turning and quickly making his way out.
Sol was now standing over her shoulder, how he got there so quickly she didn't bother questioning, reading over the papers inside with her. It was the usual stuff: Names, dates, what each party involved would be doing and walking away with -- all the information they needed. Of course, there was fine print; there was always fine print.
After a few minutes more of skimming page-by-page, Cynil finally snapped the folder closed and started making her way to the stairs. There was no need to look back to see if her brother was following because she already knew he was right on her heels.
The duo ascended the staircase before making their way through the faux "storage room" and opening the door at the far end; this allowed them to step out into the main room -- or, better known as, the bar. The two were currently behind the counter where Sidorus was standing. Now, the majority would believe that a demon was a mindless killing machine bent on nothing but destruction. They'd be partially right, however, there is the possibility of "reasoning" with them.
In all actuality, Cynil nor Sol know truly why Sidorus joined up with this little gang of theirs; he just showed up one day, snatched a folder from Detra's hands and declared it his. The day a demon decided to just tag along when no one knew who in the hell he was -- yeah, that was a real weird day.
Sidorus glanced back at them, his eyes dull with boredom; he was leaned forward, elbow resting on the counter and fist propping his head up.
"Did you know," He said, dragging the words out a bit as if he were going to his them with a fact. Probably was, and it would be something so -- "There's this whole plot to free Lucifer going on around Hell?" -- utterly boring that she'd just have to...
"Wait, what?" Cynil's head pivoted as she stopped walking; she didn't hear that right...right?
"Yep, a bunch a' demons wanna bust out the King of Hell." He shrugged. "I mean, not a bad idea, I guess, but not really my speed." He gave a dismissive wave. "But watch out; who knows what they're up to right know."
Sam was sitting in the passenger seat of the impala, staring down at the book in his hands. It was simple review, going over various monsters and exorcisms their father had wrote down; they even added a few additions to it of their own, but only as loose papers inside -- there was no way either of them would take a pencil and mark on the pages attached. It was one of the few things they had of his.
They were currently leaving a job; a witch had been turning children into scarecrows. Not their worst job, though it was definitely strange. They have had stranger, though, what made this one stand out was they were contacted by some "Syndicate". It was some message left on the bed of their motel, and all it said was "Go to Wichita if you want assistance in you hunt. -Syndicate"
It was hard to tell what "hunt" it meant: general or more specific? The only one Sam could really think of that anyone would really notice was their trying to stop Lucifer. That one had a tendency to turn heads and get attention -- mostly the kind they didn't one and ended with them being thrown into walls. Never the good kind.
It was safe to say that both Dean and himself were a bit on edge from the mysterious letter.
"Did you find any leads on The Order of Smoke and Mirrors?" Dean said, his eyes glancing up at the rear view mirror for a minute before fixing back on the road.
"Nope, I got nothing. Whoever these people are, they managed to stay almost completely off the radar." Sam replied.
"C'mon Sammy, no one is 'completely off the radar'." Dean was now casting a quick glance his way, to which Sam returned.
"I know, so I started digging a bit deeper. We left before I could really find anything, so I got Bobby involved," The mention of Bobby being on the case of this got a slight smirk out of him. "He said he should be able to find something once we reach Wichita, though gave the usual words of caution. Mainly 'If monsters start luring you idjits into traps, then you'll have to start actually using your brains.'."
There was a moment of silence as Dean started to squint ahead on the road; Sam looked out to see an empty street.
"Damn..." Dean said, blinking. "What if it is monsters? Would be kinda odd that they were finally hunting us. Making our job much easier." He grinned over to Sam.
With that, the conversation died down to various small talk before silencing completely. Sam was back to reading as he happened to notice the surroundings change. They were now passing buildings, actually seeing people instead of driving on almost abandoned roads -- this meant find a hotel and start really planning.
It didn't take long; after about fifteen or twenty minutes, they pulled in to a parking lot, checked in, and were on their way up to room 24.
"So, battle plan: what the hell are we doing?" Dean asked as he sat down at the table.
"We're not sure if these people wanna do us in, so I suggest we play it safe -- see if they're trying to kill us." Sam answered, though was cut off before he could continue on.
"Well, gee, Sam; gonna be kinda hard to figure that out before we meet them. We don't even know where they are!" He threw his hands up in exasperation, though it was mostly him being a bit more theatrical about the whole mess. "They're also probably watching the place, and they know who we are. They'll probably recognize us. What are we gonna do, go out on the street wearing sunglasses and dark jackets?"
"Yeah, that's true..." Sam paused. "Maybe we see if anyone we know's around and call in a favor? See if they can come, scout things out? I'm not too wild about going in blind, but I think that's where this is headed."
"So, any jobs today?" She asked, breaking the silence. His head lifted a moment as he thought before turning to look at her lazily.
"None that I can think of," Sol replied with a tired -- almost zoned-out -- voice, giving a slight shrug as he adjusted his position to have one of his arms behind his head as a make-shift pillow. "But you know we're bound to get something thrown our way; no way they're letting us have a day off."
Before they could really continue talking, the door -- once closed -- was being thrown open. Standing in the door frame, clutching the door knob tightly, was Allen. His sandy blonde hair was falling in front of his face as his chest heaved. His eyes met hers, locked for a moment before he began to quickly make his way over.
"Cynil, I've been looking everywhere for you!" He threw his hands up in exasperation. From the state he was in now? She could see it being a moderate exaggeration, though not too far from the truth. "Detra is having to deal with a bunch of idiots who don't understand the concept of paying us for the last few jobs we've run for them. You know, the ones where it was all 'sure, we'll let it slide, but it'll all add up to a final payment'?" He rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, yeah, I know; the Health Center of Something or Other," Cynil nodded along, leaning against the table and folding her arms over her chest. "They seemed like real dicks."
"Pretty much, though you didn't have to deal with their boss. That guy --" Allen cut himself off, shaking his head. It was then she finally noticed the manila folder being held in his hand as the other was raking through his hair in an attempt to push it back. Not much luck. "--Anyway, you need to go talk to them. Or, you know, find a way to weasel your way out. Like always." He grinned as he started walking backwards a bit before finally turning and quickly making his way out.
Sol was now standing over her shoulder, how he got there so quickly she didn't bother questioning, reading over the papers inside with her. It was the usual stuff: Names, dates, what each party involved would be doing and walking away with -- all the information they needed. Of course, there was fine print; there was always fine print.
After a few minutes more of skimming page-by-page, Cynil finally snapped the folder closed and started making her way to the stairs. There was no need to look back to see if her brother was following because she already knew he was right on her heels.
The duo ascended the staircase before making their way through the faux "storage room" and opening the door at the far end; this allowed them to step out into the main room -- or, better known as, the bar. The two were currently behind the counter where Sidorus was standing. Now, the majority would believe that a demon was a mindless killing machine bent on nothing but destruction. They'd be partially right, however, there is the possibility of "reasoning" with them.
In all actuality, Cynil nor Sol know truly why Sidorus joined up with this little gang of theirs; he just showed up one day, snatched a folder from Detra's hands and declared it his. The day a demon decided to just tag along when no one knew who in the hell he was -- yeah, that was a real weird day.
Sidorus glanced back at them, his eyes dull with boredom; he was leaned forward, elbow resting on the counter and fist propping his head up.
"Did you know," He said, dragging the words out a bit as if he were going to his them with a fact. Probably was, and it would be something so -- "There's this whole plot to free Lucifer going on around Hell?" -- utterly boring that she'd just have to...
"Wait, what?" Cynil's head pivoted as she stopped walking; she didn't hear that right...right?
"Yep, a bunch a' demons wanna bust out the King of Hell." He shrugged. "I mean, not a bad idea, I guess, but not really my speed." He gave a dismissive wave. "But watch out; who knows what they're up to right know."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sam was sitting in the passenger seat of the impala, staring down at the book in his hands. It was simple review, going over various monsters and exorcisms their father had wrote down; they even added a few additions to it of their own, but only as loose papers inside -- there was no way either of them would take a pencil and mark on the pages attached. It was one of the few things they had of his.
They were currently leaving a job; a witch had been turning children into scarecrows. Not their worst job, though it was definitely strange. They have had stranger, though, what made this one stand out was they were contacted by some "Syndicate". It was some message left on the bed of their motel, and all it said was "Go to Wichita if you want assistance in you hunt. -Syndicate"
It was hard to tell what "hunt" it meant: general or more specific? The only one Sam could really think of that anyone would really notice was their trying to stop Lucifer. That one had a tendency to turn heads and get attention -- mostly the kind they didn't one and ended with them being thrown into walls. Never the good kind.
It was safe to say that both Dean and himself were a bit on edge from the mysterious letter.
"Did you find any leads on The Order of Smoke and Mirrors?" Dean said, his eyes glancing up at the rear view mirror for a minute before fixing back on the road.
"Nope, I got nothing. Whoever these people are, they managed to stay almost completely off the radar." Sam replied.
"C'mon Sammy, no one is 'completely off the radar'." Dean was now casting a quick glance his way, to which Sam returned.
"I know, so I started digging a bit deeper. We left before I could really find anything, so I got Bobby involved," The mention of Bobby being on the case of this got a slight smirk out of him. "He said he should be able to find something once we reach Wichita, though gave the usual words of caution. Mainly 'If monsters start luring you idjits into traps, then you'll have to start actually using your brains.'."
There was a moment of silence as Dean started to squint ahead on the road; Sam looked out to see an empty street.
"Damn..." Dean said, blinking. "What if it is monsters? Would be kinda odd that they were finally hunting us. Making our job much easier." He grinned over to Sam.
With that, the conversation died down to various small talk before silencing completely. Sam was back to reading as he happened to notice the surroundings change. They were now passing buildings, actually seeing people instead of driving on almost abandoned roads -- this meant find a hotel and start really planning.
It didn't take long; after about fifteen or twenty minutes, they pulled in to a parking lot, checked in, and were on their way up to room 24.
"So, battle plan: what the hell are we doing?" Dean asked as he sat down at the table.
"We're not sure if these people wanna do us in, so I suggest we play it safe -- see if they're trying to kill us." Sam answered, though was cut off before he could continue on.
"Well, gee, Sam; gonna be kinda hard to figure that out before we meet them. We don't even know where they are!" He threw his hands up in exasperation, though it was mostly him being a bit more theatrical about the whole mess. "They're also probably watching the place, and they know who we are. They'll probably recognize us. What are we gonna do, go out on the street wearing sunglasses and dark jackets?"
"Yeah, that's true..." Sam paused. "Maybe we see if anyone we know's around and call in a favor? See if they can come, scout things out? I'm not too wild about going in blind, but I think that's where this is headed."
