he makes it here because there’s NO MOTEL in the area that’ll take him in, and he’d be DAMNED if Sammy was going to find him. more or less, this place seems abandoned–or run down enough that no one would bother trying to squat here. he’s WRONG about that, wrong about a lot of things–but that doesn’t really occur to him until he’s standing in front of a laptop with so many numbers it feels like he’s back in algebra class.
he’s not concerned about getting hurt–even less concerned about dying ( he can’t die; it’s his curse ), but he’d hate for there to be casualties when there obviously doesn’t need to be any. dropping his bag, Dean just puts his hands up, eyes slowly looks around for where the SHOTS came from.
he almost laughs at the ACCENT, but he doesn’t–he laughs anyways, though, because what else can he do in this situation? someone’s pointing a gun at someone who can’t die. he steps away as asked.
❛ alright, you caught me. what now, you dick? gonna SHOOT me? ❜
an irritated click of tongue as his head dipped back against the wall. lids closing to give himself time to think. he was out of bullets, any other weaponry was usually fighting by hand. HE DIDN’T WANT TO HURT ANYONE. and yet it seemed like the world was giving him little choice. with the clock of fate clicking down he leaned in catching sight of this work. it needed to be turned in within the next hour, little time was left. take a life or risk the chance of losing his own. damn it with movement he felt cold metal hit skin as his jaw tightened bringing the weapon up in a tighter grip. a kick of chair and a lunge forward, appearing next to the other so quickly almost inhuman. and yet he was nothing but.
a knee came to greet abdomen and the hilt of gun meeting head, not entirely temple, with a great force of impact. THUD. down like a tree, apparently without much around they still made sound. he stepped over the body then eyes narrowing coldly. this was his job , and if it had been anyone else from the agency the man may have very well have ended up dead. but religion and self morals kept him from doing that, if he wasn’t given a choice he would sure as hell make another. DOWNLOAD COMPLETE , MASTER LUCIEL. a heavy sigh of breath and hands came down to shut the device collecting his bags before turning to the door.
he was only a few steps out glancing back over at the body. ❛ baegchi ! ❜ muscle rolling against the roof of his mouth to make another irritated and sharp click. then out the door he was shutting it behind him as he dragged a piece of wood to rest against. fixing the strap of his bag that dug into his shoulder. it didn’t take long to sling it into the vehicle however. mclaren , shining of crimson. closing the door and buckling himself in palms were run down his face. a moment or two of silence, collecting himself. boiling down the anger and irritation of the entire situation MASTER LUCIEL Aliez bringing him out of his guilt for harm allowing his hands to rest on wheel before he started up engine.