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Jesse Turner

"I'm not scared of what I can do. I'm scared that I enjoy it."

0 · 1,191 views · located in Supernatural America

a character in “Team Free Will; The 2nd Generation”, as played by GreenPegg

Description

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Name:
Jesse Turner

Nicknames:
Gavin Wright, The Antichrist, The Lawless One, The Beast from Earth, The False Prophet

Age:
24

Sexuality:
Heterosexual

Hunter or Creature:
Cambion(half-human, half-demon)/Sometimes Hunter

Abilities:
  • Possession Immunity: Because he is part demon, Jesse cannot be possessed by other demons. This ability has given him the upper hand in encounters more times then he'd like to admit.
  • Teleportation: Jesse can teleport both short and long distances. For him, the longer the distance, the more strain it puts on his body.
  • Supernatural Concealment: Jesse can hide himself completely from most angelic, demonic, and human locating techniques.
  • Exorcism/Demon Control: Jesse has the ability to exorcise a demon from it's host. This ability is one he has used often and while lower level demons are incredibly easy, more powerful demons are much harder to exorcise, taking all of his concentration and draining him of his energy.
  • Telekinesis: Like all demons, Jesse has the ability to move objects with his mind. His form of this ability is stronger then your average demon, being able to pin people to walls with some effort, but is not nearly as strong as some of the demonic higher ups.






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Likes:
Soup, Swimming, Surfing, Peace and Quiet, Pie, The Ocean, The Winchesters, Killing (He hates how much he enjoys it)
Dislikes:
Demons, Angels, Being called a freak, Pranks, "Magic", Lies, Lucifer
Fears:
Giving in to his demonic half, His parents dying because of him, the Apocalypse,
Spiders, Hell

Skills:
  • Jesse is skilled with a pistol, being his choice weapon and really the only one he's used in his life.
  • Jesse learned as soon as he left his life that he would need a new name. With his powers, this was easy enough, but when they decreased after Lucifer returned to his cage, he learned how to forge documents as well as ID's and the like.
  • Although he sometimes hates it, Jesse is a fantastic liar. He often uses this skill when assuming a fake identity as well as seeming more naive then he actually is.
  • With the time he spends as a "Bible salesman", Jesse actually knows a good amount about the holy book, both it's statements and it's inaccuracies.
  • Jesse is also very knowledgeable of demon and angel lore and nature, choosing those two specifically due to his encounters with them.

Deficits:
  • As a demon (even partially), Jesse can be trapped in a Devil's Trap. He has an easier time getting out, but still this has gotten attention drawn to him by more then one hunter.
  • Because of his human half, Jesse is as vulnerable as any normal human would be when it comes to physical damage. When his body dies, that's it for him.
  • Isn't too book smart due to his lack of schooling.
  • Doesn't feel he belongs anywhere, which causes him to feel lonely I lot of the time and constantly doubts his place in life.


Distinguishing Marks:
Although he doesn't need it, Jesse has an anti-possession tattoo on his lower abdomen. This is mostly to throw off hunters and demons alike.






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Personality:

Jesse is a man who was stripped of his life at a young age. This caused him to have to grow up quick, which stunted his personality a lot. He is naturally distrustful and usually tries to stay out of things, but his natural sense of right and wrong most times steers him in the right direction. There are however times when he steers in the wrong direction and for these times he feels guilty. He feels guilty for not only doing or not doing something, but sometimes enjoying the suffering of others. As partially a demon, this is natural, but he has humanity which causes him a great deal of strife. His dual nature is something he struggles with and has struggled with since Sam Winchester told him what he was.

Jesse is naturally kind and cares about the people around him, but this just causes him to want to distance himself more from people. The closer a person is to Jesse, the more he wants to push them away. This doesn't mean Jesse isn't sociable at times. The few occasions he allows himself to talk to others seriously, he shows himself to be a respectful and charming person. He does however have a tendency to lie to people, mostly regarding his history for obvious reasons. He hates how naive he used to be and doesn't actually believe in much anymore, people included. He feels that everyone is faulty somehow, but deep down does think that everyone has some good in them.

History:

Jesse Turner always had a feeling he was different then everybody else. For most people, the culmination of this feeling is something astronomical to them. In Jesse's cast, it was astronomical period. Jesse was visited by the Winchesters in regards to a string of deaths and injuries caused by things only children believed to be fact. It turned out, Jesse was causing these events to happen as he was a Cambion, an extremely powerful human/demon hybrid. If this wasn't enough, he also learned that he was adopted and that he was being searched after by both Heaven and Hell, the forces of the latter finding him by possessing his birth mother. Confused and angry at the situation, Jesse sent the demon back to hell and told the brothers he was going to say goodbye to his parents before he left with them. He instead teleported to Australia, only leaving a note beyond for the people who had raised him saying why he had to leave to protect them.

After a few months of getting used to the country and his powers which he used to make a new life for himself, Jesse one day felt himself get extremely weak all of a sudden. Unknown to him was the fact that his power was tied to the fallen angel Lucifer, who at that time had been forced back into his cage by the Winchesters. Scared the demons or angels would find him and without most of his powers, Jesse took the money he had left and teleported to Canada and began to travel around. This was first difficult because of his age, but he became better at blending in as he grew older, eventually taking on the guise of a Bible salesman named Gavin Wright. On his journeys however, he ran into hunter and demon alike who found out what he was. Most demons offered him a welcome and when he always refused, they tried to kill him, which never worked. The Hunters on the other hand wanted him dead, only one ever protecting him and he traveled with this one for a short time, learning a few tricks of the trade. He eventually returned to the United States where he discovered the fact that small towns were essentially being wiped off the map. Out of worry and curiosity, he decided to investigate it.





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Theme Song:

Blues Saraceno|| Save My Soul
(Lyrics)
When I got to Memphis
To put my ol' baby down
Despair was all around me
Confusion is what I found
So I called me the sheriff
I said bring my wife the gun
But please don't let her hurt me now
That girl just havin' fun
He said:

I can't take you to heaven
I can't save your soul
I can't promise forever
Hey, yeah save my soul
Hey now, whoooaa save my soul
Got my heart in your hands
I can't feel, feel my soul

Well I found me a doctor
To get me what I need
Paranoia had surround me
Smoke and fire is what I see
So he hands me a bible
To take my last stand
But the devil he done ignore me
While the doctor does all he can, yeah

I can't take you to heaven
I can't save your soul
I can't promise forever
Hey, yeah save my soul
Hmmm, whoooaa save my soul
Got my heart in your hands
I can't feel, feel my soul

Got my heart in your hands
I can't, feel...
Got my heart in your hands
I can't feel, feel my soul
[/font]

So begins...

Jesse Turner's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Michael Bryant Character Portrait: Jesse Turner Character Portrait: Booker Thompson Character Portrait: Aislin Winchester Character Portrait: Arlen Elrik
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Michael had grown accustomed to the sights and smells of the eatery scene over the past few years; speckled formica, linoleum, stainless steel, moldy wood, and eau de grease. Diners could always be roughly divided into two types: The Suburban, and the Highway. The former was usually a restaurant which was open late (if not 24 hours), which catered to the old folks, or the high school kids, and, late at night, to the worst elements(Junkies, presumably). The latter, however, was what the purists idealized when they spoke of diners. They sprung up to serve the needs of travelers and truckers; two groups which may need sustenance (especially coffee) at any hour of day or night, and who could only survive the consumption of fast food for so long. This place seemed to be a cooperative mingling of the two, which was perfect for someone living the life of a vagrant like hunters did.

Sliding into the nearest availble booth that had the least amount of alizarin faux leather peeling away, Michael scooped up a menu and pretended to mull it over before a waitress came around and he predictably ordered the same breakfast he always did, an egg and bacon cheeseburger with a side of fries. Had Asher been there, he'd of lectured Michael about cholestorol.

Adjacent to his booth sat some slack jawed redneck, bits of his meal stuck in his greying beard. Michael's eyes darted down to the man's plate, covered in surup drenched bread, flakey with a thick coat of sugar. It made his stomach roll, How could anyone stand to eat that repugnant mess? he thought hypocritically, but still his apetite rumbled. That ache inside him remained steadfast everyday, gnawing at his guts, writhing experimentally. Just to remind him it was still there, just to make sure he never grew accustomed and immune to its presence. Hunger for Michael was somewhat different than it was for others in his profession...

When he and Asher were teengers, all on there own and figuring out things for the first time, it was Michael's job to make sure Asher never went hungry, his responsibility to see to it he never did without. But there were days when the young high school drop out couldn't find work on a contruction site or a pool hall to hustle in, and the food and money would slowly run out. He wasn't the credit card scam artist he is today(Which admittedly, he still kind of sucks at it, just not as badly.) so he resorted to shoplifting in order to get food, but what little he could scrounge up, he would always give to Asher, leaving the barest amount for himself. He knew what being hungry was like, hungry for days.

This was also why Michael later grew up and ate as much as he could manage in one setting because he didn’t know when his next meal might of been, and it was why he got so much pleasure in the food he ate. He was not just gluttonous, but he genuinely thought "This is the best meal ever." And meant it.

ImageHe was idly drum rolling his knuckles on the table top, swinging his feet like an over grown child as he waited for his food when his eyes caught a guy in a nearby booth with a book out, reading. Nerd. he instinctually thought but his dark hair and innocent expression reminded Michael of Asher. Plus, you know, the fact he was reading. He leaned over sideways to get a better look at the novel's title and scoffed. Figures he'd be reading some complete and utter crap. The artwork on the cover was like that of a romance novel, two men(one shirtless, both ripped and tan like body builders) toting guns, hair flowing in the wind. SUPERNATURAL. It practically exclaimed in bold. Michael lost interest, his life was supernatural enough without having to go into fantasy land to live it too.

Over to his left an arcade game flashed CONFIRMED KILL in all capital red lettering, the dark haired girl playing it firing off rounds with the plastic gun like it was second nature. He grinned lazily; to him, it was. He stood to stretch and found himself wandering over, leaning against the machine to face her like some 1950's greaser. "Nice shot, you reach the high score yet?" He asked almost sarcastically, intending to irritate and flirt with her simultaneously. It was always like that with girls, he was obnoxious yet they still found him charming...most of the time. "You know..you might do better if you put the butt of the rifle against your shoulder, rifles kick like a bitch. The butt is that end there not facing the screen." He laughed.


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Characters Present

Character Portrait: Michael Bryant Character Portrait: Jesse Turner Character Portrait: Booker Thompson Character Portrait: Aislin Winchester Character Portrait: Arlen Elrik
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"You know what, why don't you just go to hell!!!" the woman screamed as she slammed the door in Jesse's face. The only reaction she got from him was a grin as he walked away from her small home. 'People are too easy sometimes.' he thought to himself, pleased with his work of "blending in" as a bible salesman. It was the perfect cover. Most people thought he was a Jehovah's Witness and didn't even answer the door for him and the very few that did were greeted with a fake smile and several condescending remarks about their "unholy lifestyle". This assured that in any town he was in, he would be left alone which was just how he liked it. No one paid much mind to a salesman. No one noticed how he only ever had one bible, no one cared enough to notice he only ever had a backpack and a duffelbag, and no one had so much suspicion to check his bag and see the revolver and books on the supernatural inside and notice how he was there one minute and gone in the blink of an eye.

Jesse appeared behind a small diner he had passed entering into Carlton and decided to grab some coffee, still groggy as he hadn't been sleeping very well lately. As he turned the corner the the diner's entrance, he noticed a man standing next to a truck rubbing his arm in pain. Thinking maybe it was from a long drive, Jesse didn't give it much mind and entered the diner, finding an empty booth and placing his belongings next it as he sat down.

Immediately, he noticed the electronic buzzes and screams coming from an arcade machine nearby and made a note of the teenage girl playing it before a waitress came up to him, handing him a menu and asking for his drink order. "Just a coffee for right now, thanks." he said as the woman walked away to fetch his beverage. As he waited, he couldn't help but think of how normal the town seemed. He had been hearing rumors of something big going on around the country, but if he only had this diner's atmosphere to go on he'd say everything was normal. Well, not his normal. Normal people's normal. Jesse's normal was blinking around the country, trying to make sure everything was alright while evading what goes bump in the night and the people who hunt those things as most if not all of them wanted him dead or in some sort of cage because of what he was. Because of the power he had as a spawn of a human and demon. As he figured out overtime through research, Jesse was supposed to be used as a weapon against Heaven during the Apocalypse; the Antichrist. And, with the amount of power he used to have, it didn't surprise him that much.

"Here's your coffee, sir." the waitress returned, placing the pale mug filled with steaming coffee in front of him. "Can I get you anything else?" she asked, motioning towards the menu that Jesse hadn't even looked at. His eyes scanned it quickly, deciding on some chocolate chip pancakes to answer his now growling stomach as he had forgotten to eat breakfast again, a common problem for the young Cambion. After hearing his order, she took his menu and walked off, heading straight for the kitchen. After taking a sip of coffee, he rubbed his eyes to wake himself up some more, but the beeping and chiming of the arcade machine next to him was doing that for him. He decided to pass the time with some light reading and pulled one of the books from his bag. The book he pulled out was an old paperback he found called Supernatural. He was only halfway through, but it all seemed so familiar for some reason and this thought permeated as he picked up where he left off.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Michael Bryant Character Portrait: Jesse Turner Character Portrait: Booker Thompson Character Portrait: Aislin Winchester Character Portrait: Arlen Elrik
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"Nice shot, you reach the high score yet?"

Aislin jumped slightly, her chestnut eyes darting from the screen to find a tall, handsome stranger, shouldered against the arcade game watching her play. For a moment she was bewitched by his twinkling blue eyes and lopsided grin.. then like most guys Aislin found herself infatuated with, he ran straight into trouble once he opened his mouth, disenchanting her instantly. "You know..you might do better if you put the butt of the rifle against your shoulder, rifles kick like a bitch. The butt is that end there not facing the screen." He laughed at her. Aislin felt a twinge of annoyance. Was this guy serious? Did she look like an idiot? Well, maybe it wasn't that she looked stupid, she just didn't look like a gunslinger in her high school's girl volleyball jersey. Still. It was just like a man to assume a girl was lost around a rifle. She'd been shooting since she was in grade school and was a lot more adept at using a rifle than any of the boys back home.

Her character on the screen shrilled in pain, drawing her attention back to the game, the screen was blotting up with pixelated blood fast. "Shit." She exclaimed clicking the trigger of the plastic gun desperately at the swarming undead but there were too many and the shot panned out to show her character falling to its knees and being devoured by the cartoonish green zombies. GAME OVER, the screen blinked. She let out a frustrated huff and turned sharply, her long hair whipping behind her as she faced the guy still leaning against the machine with a slanted grin on his face. "You killed me!" she glowered at him.

ImageShe shifted her weight to one hip, dropping the gun down to her side,"FYI, just 'cause I'm a girl doesn't mean I don't know zilch about firearms. I can tell one end from the other on a gun. It's a little harder to tell which end I'm looking at with you."she quipped, cocking a sassy brow at him. The pretty boy probably wouldn't survive a real zombie apocalypse she thought to herself. The screen turned black and went to the scoreboard. Ash W., 201 kills. Her face split into a satisfied grin, dimpling her cheeks. It wasn't a bad score considering. "Since you know your way around a gun so well. Why don't you give it a try? See if you can beat that." She said smugly, tapping her score on the screen. She handed him the plastic rifle and stepped out of the way, standing to the side with her arms folded across her chest with a self-assured air.
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Characters Present

Character Portrait: Michael Bryant Character Portrait: Jesse Turner Character Portrait: Booker Thompson Character Portrait: Aislin Winchester Character Portrait: Arlen Elrik
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ImageMichael shrugged nonchalantly in response and accepted the rifle, clicking his tongue and winking at her before shooting the START GAME square. It wasn't really fair to take the challenge, and a better or wiser man would have intentionally missed a few hits so's not to make her feel to bad or let on he had more than some experience with firearms, (Hunting wasn't exactly a legal hobby, not his kind anyway.) but Michael didn't consider himself particularly wise or all that great so he played like his life depended on it, hoping to at least come across as impressive.

Pulling the trigger didn't really remind him of firing an actual gun though, the hollow plastic far too light weight and the zombie targets too brightly colored and pixelated to intimidate--targets only wounding your pride if you missed unlike in real life.

He hadn't given an arcade game a go since he was a little kid, actually. Last he remembered, it was a game of Whack-a-Mole when he was eleven. His movements were jerky, his hits overly hard. He didn't really pay attention to the points that gathered on the display, just added more tokens. The game paused to scroll out his winning tickets and he glared at the few mother-father-children groups. - His mom was off working, dad disappeared years ago, left to get a packet of cigarettes and never came back. He was taking his frustration out on defenseless plastic animals. He hated that other people could be happy while he was not.

Asher had then come tottling up because he really wanted one of the prizes, some dumb stuffed moose, and claimed he almost had enough tickets to get it, but was in all actuality just shy of nearly two thirds of the asking price. Michael had just smiled and handed over his hard earned bundle, realizing at least one between the pair of them should be happy.

He snapped back to the present as a jawless zombie lunged for the kill. He wondered how the fictional monster intended to consume his computer generated flesh if he had no mouth to chew or bite with, but that was inconsequential and par for the course. Michael squeezed the trigger and splattered neon pink brain matter all over gritty mildewed wall before his avatar, bullet finding it's target like they were destined lovers. Love was an act of the brain after all, not some organ holed up in your chest pumping blood to your vitals, and it almost always left you in pieces. Poetic. His tallied total kills gained him acceptance on the high score roster. 425. He flashed her his elated grin, not expecting one in return before shooting out his username for the list, MachoMan22.

He refused to holster the gun though on the machines face and instead grabbed it's matching partner and offered it to her. "So, I'll go ahead and concede I may have thrown you off your game what with my devastatingly handsome face and chiseled jaw, I'm sure that was quite the distraction. Rematch? Let's throw down." He waggled his eyebrow suggestively. "If I win, you tell me your name, if you win...I'll buy your breakfast."

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Characters Present

Character Portrait: Heka Character Portrait: Claire Novak Character Portrait: Michael Bryant Character Portrait: Jesse Turner Character Portrait: Booker Thompson Character Portrait: Aislin Winchester Character Portrait: Arlen Elrik
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"This ought to be good." Jesse thought to himself about the man who decided to intrude on the girl's shooting game. He even put down his book to listen to the two's verbal sparring which ended in a literal draw as the pair decided to have a contest with the plastic rifles to see who was a better shot. It was close, but the woman won out in the end and the two decided to have breakfast together. As the new acquaintances walked away, Jesse couldn't help but feel that familiar cold feeling he got when around other people, especially when they were together and he was alone, like he always was. Jesse had carved out his own little solitary existence, but just because he did it willingly didn't mean he had to be certain about it or even like it.

"Here you go." the waitress exclaimed, the loud clang of the heavy plate snapped him out of his thoughts. "Uh, thanks." he flashed a smile to try and hide his last expression. "You alright, son? I don't mean to pry, but you seem a bit out of it."It wasn't exactly prying. It was more like just reading the 'I'm a damaged loner freak' sign all over Jesse's face. At least, that's what he thought anyway. "No, I'm fine. I just got reminded of some things I don't like to think about too often." Jesse stated, a little embarrassed he let his emotions get to him. "Well alright. You need me, just holler." and with that, the woman strutted over to another table. The Half-Demon then eyed his small stack of pancakes laid out in front of him and began to dig in, remembering his previously forgotten hunger. The sweetness from the fluffy discs and the chocolate inside definitely lifted his spirits a bit as well as the awkward sight of a large man shoveling food into his mouth like he was the Cookie Monster at an Oreo factory while a fiery haired woman sat with him and watched on.

After a few minutes, a half a cup of coffee, and a fantastic pair of chocolate chip pancakes, Jesse decided it was time to head out to a more out of the way place to do a little thinking. A place he knew was out of the way of most and not as close to town, a roadhouse he passed on the way into Carlton. With that in mind, he placed a fifty dollar bill on the table to cover his food and the kind waitress' tip and with his belongings walked to the back alley of the diner and teleported off to the roadhouse in the blink of an eye. After he made sure no one saw him, he walked into the building and sat down at an empty table. He noted instantly that there wasn't that many people there and the people who were were preoccupied with each other. Exactly what he wanted. He pulled out his chair and grabbed a leather bound book from his bag, rifling through the loose pages until he found the page he was looking for. The last demon he encountered was on his way to God knows where when he ran into Jesse. Unlucky for him, this demon wasn't aware of Jesse's ability to exorcise demons and was dealt with pretty quickly. He did however find a note on the demon's meat suit that only had two words written on it; "Pagan" and "Hecate". Jesse didn't know what it meant, but a Pagan would definitely be powerful enough to do the types of things he was hearing about, he just didn't know why. And even if he found out who they were, he knew he didn't stand a chance against a god. Not alone, at least.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Heka Character Portrait: Claire Novak Character Portrait: Zad O'Connor Character Portrait: Jesse Turner Character Portrait: Hecate
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He hadn’t realized what he had said until he had said it. He had named her. All this time, he hadn’t given the witch a name, leaving it a mystery, leaving it to be undiscovered, but now he named her, now he gave the amorphous presence a name, and it was Hecate. While it was true that Hecate and Heka had a steamy background, it was centuries ago, and their relationship ended in a very interesting way, depending on who you ask of course. He sat there realizing only too late that he had nearly divulged too much information and had to figure out a way to do damage control. He took notice of Zad’s whispering as he replied to his question on the identity of the one known as Claire Novak. She wasn’t famous as in celebrity, it was only the fact that most hunters knew one another and last he had heard she was indeed a hunter. He would find more of them here, as this was a hunter friendly “pit stop” so to speak. A place where hunters could come after a good hunt, eat, and hopefully relax until duty called once again. While it was true that Zad was an interesting character, Heka had never really had any “close” friends in the hunters. He tried here and there, but everyone he became “close” to end up dying, or worse turning into what they hunted.

Still, Heka couldn’t make it seem as if he were worried. In an attempt to cover himself, he simply smiled and listened to Zad as he began to discuss Heka’s reason for bothering him. Well, it wasn’t bothering, more like a friendly unauthorized visit from a fellow hunter. At least that’s how Heka looked at it. With a sigh, he shook his head as if he were contemplating on what to say next.

“It’s true, you aren’t much company, BUT,” he said near a yell as he held up a pointer finger, “I have just the thing to liven you up a bit pretty boy. It’s called fashion and swag.” Heka jumped to his feet like a happy school girl getting ready to perform a cheer and put one arm across his midsection and the other arm was held in place as his pointer finger tapped his chin.

“Let’s see, a definite change of wardrobe would do wonders for you Zad,” Heka stated with a smile, “aaaaand a good ol’ fashioned personality lift will make it an all-around complete look. By the way I could definitely do your hair and give you more appeal. What do you say?”

Heka tried hard not to laugh. He was holding his lips closed as he waited for Zad to answer. All the while he was wondering if Claire had noticed his little show. He was aware of others in the roadhouse, others would watch them. He was always privy to information, thanks to his status in the hierarchy or rather the pantheon of deities, but if they found out he was a deity, if they ever found out, what would they do to him? Or at least try to do to him because he’d be damned if he let anyone just walk up and kill him. Maybe times were changing and they’d welcome him among their ranks. After all, he had been a part of the hunters for some time now and had fully settled himself in, but there were always those who would remain trapped in the ages, unaware of how blissfully ignorant they were. One of the many reasons Heka turned his back on his so called brethren. A story for another time perhaps. His eyes drifted over to Jesse, but only for a quick second before settling back on Zad.


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Characters Present

Character Portrait: Heka Character Portrait: Claire Novak Character Portrait: Zad O'Connor Character Portrait: Jesse Turner
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Zad huffed, realizing Anthony was not likely to divulge his true motives in meeting him there today, and contented himself with finishing the last of his breakfast off and contemplating the weirdness that certain foods, like the eggs he had just consumed for example, were exclusive to the morning only. Why were breakfast foods breakfast foods, like why didn't they eat Curry for breakfast? How did eggs get stuck with breakfast exclusivity? He tried to derail that train of thought by thinking that the breakfastization gave eggs a certain sacrality, you couldn't get them at any hour in most eateries. They had a time and a place, like church but that was bull and he knew it. Poor eggs. Never free, unrestraint like the rest of the edibles. Zad had to have ADHD or something, who else concocted such off the wall ideas in the span of a few seconds and sympathized with insensate chicken's period. Which only led him to further contemplate the weirdness that was the widely accepted behavior of scrambling discarded chicken oospore and consuming it.

Before he spiraled too out of control in his thought process, he allowed himself to be distracted by the quiet entrance of a young, enigmatic looking man who immediately sought refuge at a nearby table and then proceeded not to order anything, but rather just opened an old looking tome and began reading. Odd...probably a rookie hotshot out on his first hunt and in way over his head. He was certainly young enough but then again, hunters never really made it to the golden years.

Anthony suddenly jumped to his feet, perky as a high school cheerleader. “It’s true, you aren’t much company, BUT I have just the thing to liven you up a bit pretty boy. It’s called fashion and swag. Let’s see, a definite change of wardrobe would do wonders for you Zad, aaaaand a good ol’ fashioned personality lift will make it an all-around complete look. By the way I could definitely do your hair and give you more appeal. What do you say?”

ImageZad was startled by Anthony's sudden jerk upward into a standing position, so much so that he immediately dropped his fork-the silverware landing on the hardwood floor with a loud unceremonious clatter. "Bollocks!" He exclaimed in denial, outright refusing the offer with little grace. "My personality is just fine, thanks! And you'll not be touching a hair on my head! I like me the way I am, dirt and all." He threw his arms protectively over his filthy blond mop like a fleshen shield as if to ward off an unwarranted/unwanted advances by Anthony. Was he completely off his rocker? They were hunters, it wasn't likely any invite to braid each others hair and gossip like girls at a sleep over was going to be accepted. They were gruff, hardened men with gory stories to swap over a few beers, and if they were fortunate, some well deserved and won over women...at least in his opinion. Zad was known for being more than biased where he himself was concerned. He thought most everyone was supposed to be like him, not that there was anything wrong with being different.

The damn gobshite.

Anthony was being really odd lately, he couldn't help but wonder if the man really had lost all his marbles and was playing the game shy of a few pieces. Perhaps he was just gay, like really really gay? Zad wasn't really completely heterosexual, he swung for the other teams at times, but the hell if he wasn't masculine at any rate. It was just a perk of being raised by tough as they come fishermen from New York. Makeovers were NOT his idea of a good time.

Had everyone just gotten super weird while Zad was off vacationing in the woods, almost being eaten alive by Wendigos?

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Character Portrait: Heka Character Portrait: Claire Novak Character Portrait: Zad O'Connor Character Portrait: Jesse Turner
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Claire Novak
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When Claire went to peek over her shoulder once again, she noticed the two men looking at her this time. Her eyes widened and she faced straight ahead faster than any speeding bullet. She looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Why were they looking at her? Did she have something on her back? Millions of questions flitted through Novak’s mind, though a chuckle from the bartender brought her from said thoughts. ”You look as pale as a ghost, Claire. Not used to being looked at?” Tim teased, leading her to believe he saw the two look at her as well. The hunter forced her own laugh, poking at the half-eaten waffles sitting in front of her. It wasn’t the point of being looked at. With her line of work, it immediately made her think the worse when someone gave a glimpse of recognition in her direction. What if they were a supernatural?

“Oh it’s not that,” Claire had mused, answering Tim’s joking as she nonchalantly reached back, feeling along the waist of her jeans, using the back of her hand as if she had an itch she couldn’t scratch. The tips of her fingers barely grazed the hard metal of her gun tucked neatly there, concealed by her flannel, and the slight touch made her breathe easy, a cheeky smile dancing across her lips. “I just never get a warm, fuzzy feeling when I see two men twice my size eyin’ me, y’know?” she added, acting as if she was that poor, defenseless girl fearing getting taken advantage of. Tim snorted in response.

”You got a ride coming for you, right?” the tender asked, yet before Claire could answer a commotion piqued her interest and drug her attention away from him. Risking another glance over her shoulder, an amused expression crossed her face at the sight she saw. The man with the longer bit of hair had jumped up; Claire couldn’t help but him having remind her of a giddy puppy.

“Let’s see, a definite change of wardrobe would do wonders for you Zad, aaaaand a good ol’ fashioned personality lift will make it an all-around complete look. By the way I could definitely do your hair and give you more appeal. What do you say?” It wasn’t difficult to overhear the twos’ conversation, and the topic of it had a laugh tumbling past Claire Novak’s lips. She placed a hand over her mouth to mumble the noise, but it was quite hard to do so. Her laugh was so loud. Fashion and hairdos was one of the very last things she expected the two guys to talk about. Really? she thought, looking back at the bartender, a wide, dimpled smile on her face, giving a look as if to say ”Can you believe this?”

”I don’t think you have to worry about those two pansies touching you. They might be too preoccupied with doing each other’s nails.” The statement from Tim had the hunter rolling. She buckled over on the stool, clutching at her sides as a giggle escaped her mouth; she didn’t even worry about quieting the laugh, it unabashed.

"My personality is just fine, thanks! And you'll not be touching a hair on my head! I like me the way I am, dirt and all." Claire listened to the other man rant, a grin on her face. She caught onto his accent and curiosity immediately burned in her gaze. ”They’re very strange, aren’t they?” she whispered to the tender, lips twitching as she fought another laugh. However, the previous mention of attire had the hunter glancing down at her own clothes. Her faded jeans were smudged with dried dirt here and there from her previous hunt, and the large flannel she had on was thrown on last minute due to it being the only unbloodied article of clothing she had at her disposal. Her hair was a tousled mess and she looked quite worn, the dark circles under her eyes an indicator. At the realization Claire Novak’s cheeks burned with embarrassment. She was in no position to laugh at another persons’ disheveled appearance.

”Why don’t you go over and talk to ‘em, huh? I bet they won’t bite.” Tim opted, a toothy grin making its way onto his gruff face. Claire crinkled her nose, Yeah, the thing is. . What if they do? she thought, smirking at the bartender as she hopped off the stool. It wobbled as she done so, causing the hunter to wonder how she didn’t manage to break the old thing beneath her weight. “You got my back if they try to get handsy, right?” she teased, turning to look at the two men, shaking her head. Though she’d rather find her way to a motel to catch up on much needed rest, the thought of messing with these two idgits sounded like good entertainment after a long week.

Taking a deep breath, Claire Novak sauntered over to the two, in no way trying to keep the amused look off her face. “I’m no expert, but a good shower can do a person wonders when it comes to appearance.” Novak joked, aiming it at the man who had his arms up, protecting his locks. Though she was no position to do so, or comment on a shower; she needed one herself. However, like other times, it didn’t stop the hunter from teasing someone at their own expense.




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Character Portrait: Heka Character Portrait: Claire Novak Character Portrait: Michael Bryant Character Portrait: Zad O'Connor Character Portrait: Jesse Turner Character Portrait: Booker Thompson Character Portrait: Aislin Winchester Character Portrait: Arlen Elrik
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As soon as he heard the word 'Wendigo', Jesse took it as his cue to leave. While he could take on a hunter or two every so often, he definitely couldn't take on three, especially on what seemed like their own turf on how casually the man brought it up. He nervously grabbed his book and placed back in his bag, unknowingly leaving the papers he was examining behind as he tried to walk casually out the door, teleporting back to the outside of the diner. After a single step however, he heard a loud ringing coming from his carry on. He picked through the items to find a dusty looking cellphone much to his own surprise as he never remembered buying a cell phone. "Hello?" he answered not knowing who was on the other end.

"Yeah, Olly. It's Sam. Sam Winchester. We hunted the Djinn together a few years back. I need a favor..."

'Just my god damn luck.' Jesse thought to himself, now remembering where he'd gotten the phone. It was from the only hunter who ever showed him any kindness and the only hunter who had died protecting him; Oliver Gent. He remembered Oliver mentioning hunting with the Winchester's once. The two brothers were practically the Mannings of monster hunting at this point and meeting them was either an honor or a swift pain in the ass. Sometimes both.

"What's the hunt?" Jesse replied, trying to mimic his deceased friend's voice as to not raise suspicion. While he respected Oliver's memory, he was more interested in helping Sam as a long time ago, Sam saved Jesse's life and he wanted to return the favor.

"Funny you should say that. It's my daughter, Ash." the youngest Winchester said with a huff. Jesse was a little surprised Sam had settled down. He always figured from what he'd been told about him that he'd die on the job. He then decided to head back into the diner as he talked with Sam, but before he could, he heard a bit of a raucous coming from inside. He peaked into one of the windows.

'WINCHESTER!? AS IN THE WINCHESTERS, SAM AND DEAN!?' It was the unmistakable yell and movement coming from the sleazy guy from earlier who was still talking to the dark haired girl next to him.

"Jesus, really? You really gotta do this crap to me?" he said to himself in a hushed town as he watched a red head walk over and join them in conversation. "Hey, Sam. Does Ash have dark hair, brown eyes, and a cute face?"

"That's inappropriate, but I guess."

"She's literally ten feet away from me. I'll -" and with that, Oliver's phone powered down, finally out of juice after such a long time without a charge. Jesse smacked it a few times with his hand until he realized there was nothing he could do not without a charger at least. Now what was he supposed to do? He could try and grab the girl and teleport her back home, but the last time he blinked somewhere without knowing where it was, he ended up in the middle of Loch Ness. Needless to say, it wasn't a fun time. He didn't have too long to think however as Ash barreled through the front doors, seemingly intent on getting out of the area. It was then Jesse realized he had a golden opportunity right in front of him and he wasn't going to watch it walk away. Luckily for him, the man she was eating with stepped in front of her and began to ramble a bit about how the Winchesters had saved him when he was a kid. Jesse assumed this wasn't an uncommon tale as from what he'd learned, the Winchester's had been all over the country and maybe even beyond doing their work. Jesse could relate to his story, but probably not in the same way as he thought himself the monster in his situation. He however let the man finish his story before putting in his own two cents, which took some time, but he was eventually able to get his words in.

"Not to sound like an unsympathetic dick, because, trust me, I can relate, but I'm pretty sure she doesn't want to talk about the brothers right now." Jesse called out to the pair as the man wrapped up what he was saying. "Speaking of which, I think we can help each other out, Ash. Mind if we talk for a minute in private?"

(OOC: May need to edit some more as Mistress and I were so close with our post times. Apologies all around.)

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Character Portrait: Michael Bryant Character Portrait: Jesse Turner Character Portrait: Booker Thompson Character Portrait: Aislin Winchester Character Portrait: Arlen Elrik
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Before Aislin had gotten too far, Michael had cleared the distance, fumbling over booths like an obstacle course to land right in front of her. "Hey, whoah. Slow down a sec, not trying to keep you but just give me half a minute to explain." He stretched his arms out to either side as if he were throwing himself in front of a moving train which is what Aislin might as well have been. She was ready to punch the dude's lights out to get him to move except there was a diner full of people behind them. So she instead folded her arms tightly across her chest, glaring at Michael and listened to what he had to say. He appeared almost in pain as he tried to reason with her, trying to express his sincerity with all his might. She didn't imagine he had groveled too much in his life and by the end of his spiel it seemed Michael had scratched the wall that she had put up, her arms loosening and eyes softening with less skepticism. She hardly had time to process what she had been told and ask further questions though before another stranger appeared seemingly out of nowhere.Image

"Not to sound like an unsympathetic dick, because, trust me, I can relate, but I'm pretty sure she doesn't want to talk about the brothers right now." He called out to the both of them, casually striding forward. "Speaking of which, I think we can help each other out, Ash. Mind if we talk for a minute in private?" The dark-haired young man gestured cordially for her to follow him but Aislin remained rooted to the spot. Her body tensed up again. "I'm not inclined to talk to people in private I don't know." Aislin looked skeptically at the stranger, who had the wherewithal to use her nickname when she was almost certain she had never even met the guy before. She edged towards Michael, feeling the need to have someone by her side, someone to trust no matter if that trust was built flimsily on an arcade game and a confession made two seconds ago. Besides, if what he said was true and her dad and uncle had saved him as a child, he might have felt some obligation to help her. "Maybe you might care to introduce yourself first.. Anything that you have to say can be said in front of Michael here."

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Character Portrait: Heka Character Portrait: Claire Novak Character Portrait: Zad O'Connor Character Portrait: Jesse Turner
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Anthony, or Heka depending on how you knew him, stood there for a moment with his arms crossed as he watched Zad cover his unruly hair with his free arm, as if his arms would protect his hair from Anthony. Still, Anthony could only laugh at Zad’s reaction. It was as if he had asked him out on a date, and while Anthony was bisexual in the views of many, he still had his reservations about dating mortals. The last mortal he dated died, resulting in him becoming a hunter, and the thought of not being able to see him ever again plagued his mind for quite a while before he was finally able to get on with life. He had since stayed away from any sort of relationship that would lead to more heartache. He realized that he was just standing there peering out in the distance when Claire Novak spoke breaking his trance as he looked at her.

“Oh, well hey there;” he said with a smile, “actually Zad really does need a shower, and a haircut. He won’t listen to me, so perhaps you can convince him.”

Anthony simply sighed as he sat back down in his chair admitting his defeat when it came to jazzing up Zad’s appearance. It was one battle he was sure he wouldn’t win anytime soon. Claire seemed like a very trustworthy person, but he didn’t know a lot about her, other than the fact about her parents and how she was a hunter. Most humans were like an open book to him. He was able to read them with little effort, and so far he had yet to meet someone he couldn’t read. As Zad spoke to Claire, inviting her to sit with them, he could only sit there with his hands crossed childishly, as if he were upset at being denied the right to help Zad with his look. Zad introduced him as Tony which is the name nearly everyone aside from other deities addressed him as.

“My name is Anthony, but everyone does call me Tony for reasons I’m not aware of,” Anthony stated with a smile as he took Claire’s extended hand and kissed it softly, “and Zad isn’t man enough for me, I prefer them a little more roughly around the edges,” Anthony added with a wink. While it was true that he was open about his sexuality and inspired many to come out of their shells, he did enjoy toying with those who didn’t know his sexuality to the point that it confused them. “Besides, Zad reminds me of my ex, and I think the last I saw him he was cleaning sewage so yea we’re more like teammates rather than playmates if you understand that. What about you? What’s your story?”

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Booker Thompson
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Booker watched Arlen slid from the booth with very little interest, exhaling a breath when she was far enough away. He could only deal with putting up a façade for so long. Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out a worn, leather wallet, fishing out a couple twenties; he figured it’d be plenty enough to pay for simple diner food (both his and the red head’s), and enough to tip on. He tossed in an extra ten just in case. Book then slid from the booth, eyes on the two who were previously discussing the Winchesters and Arlen who had rudely barged her way in between said two. She’s good at that interrupting thing. he thought to himself, stuffing his wallet back into his back pocket, then shoving his hands into the leather pockets of his jacket casually.

It would have been the perfect time to leave. Really, he could have slipped out easily enough without being noticed and snuck himself back into his motel room until the coast was clear. The wolf side of him urged him to just that, to find shelter, to hide, but that wasn’t really Booker’s thing. Plus, it’d just make him look guilty of something, and he really wasn’t in the mood to be hunted down like game. Why not join in on the “fun?” He could act the role of a hunter for at least a few minutes, at the most. Get him off the radar so he could then excuse himself, making some claim of having a case he was working on.

An amused expression crossed Book’s face when he noticed the brunette start going on a tangent, Red having must pushed her over the edge. He watched her make a dash for the door and chuckled, eyeing the guy she was sitting with fumble across a booth to reach her, as if his life depended on it. Humans, he thought, leisurely making his way in their direction.

His gaze flickered to Arlen, brown eyes burning with amusement. “Way to go, Red.” He joked once making his way over to her, deciding to stay more in her general area, since he didn’t particularly know the other two; besides their love for shouting and making a scene, that is. Due to his hearing, he had picked up that little miss brunette was a Winchester herself. The thought alone made his skin crawl. Booker nodded towards the two, watching as the guy explained himself in an almost desperate manner. Then another man appeared, like he was called upon, and began speaking to the girl.
“So, I do know the Winchesters. My grandfather ran into them on a hunt one night and he told me of it. It ended pretty badly, so I guess I’m not a huge fan of them. Definitely not on the Winchester bandwagon.” Book explained to Arlen, trying to redeem his previous show at the booth when their name was mentioned. It was a quickly whipped up lie, but believable enough, at least.

Now make up an excuse to leave and get out of this joint. Book thought, however, he stayed rooted in place. For some reason, he didn’t feel the urge to make a hasty escape anymore. Everyone seemed preoccupied, and it was enough entertainment to get a good laugh. He felt as if he should say something to the guy and girl, but nothing came to mind. Plus, they were a little busy. He figured when the time was right, he’d introduce himself with some smooth remark. He was Booker Thompson, solo hunter just passing through. Yeah. Right.





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Jesse didn't know why he thought it would be that easy. Ash was a Winchester after all and they were known for being stubborn as well as inquisitive. It was admittedly a tad annoying, but things complicating themselves always was. "Well, I have a lot of names, but the one you might know me as is Jesse Turner." Jesse said. As his own name passed his lips, the two words couldn't help but feel extremely awkward on his tongue. It had been a long time since he had used his real name. These days, it was more Gavin this or Mr.Wright that. It definitely isn't a good feeling when your own name fits a stranger more then you.

"I just got a call from your dad. He's understandably worried. As you might have guessed, Sam Winchester is a man I owe my very life to, but there may be something that takes priority over old debts nowadays." Jesse spoke as he took a few steps toward the girl, but she seemed to retreat toward Michael. Jesse couldn't help but chuckle a bit. While he had killed hunters before, it was never in cold blood. They always shot first. Always. "I know I'm painted as a devil in some circles, but I promise I don't bite. I'm not that kind of...person." Jesse hesitated on the last word of his sentence. This happened more then he'd like to think about. Human or demon? Always caught in the middle. The Beast of the Earth is what some people called him and sometimes, that how he felt.

"You mind hearing me out? Your friends can come along too, if that makes you feel better. We just can't talk about it in a place this open."

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Just as he began regaining her trust, they were interrupted once more. He clenched his jaw and snorted, turning to face the guy who thought that joining the gathering crowd of tense hunters was a good idea. Turner immediately attempted to whisk Aislin away so they could speak in private and for no real discernible reason, Michael was suddenly feeling aggressively protective over the her. He reasoned it was because he felt indebted to her father and uncle and that he could not, in good conscious, let anything bad happen to her; but at the same time she was a hunter. And not just any hunter, but a Winchester. However, she didn't seem to know the guy so he made a move to step forward, blocking Jesse from coming any closer to Aislin. "I'm not inclined to talk to people in private I don't know. Maybe you might care to introduce yourself first.. Anything that you have to say can be said in front of Michael here." She stated, taking a step toward his side. His chest swoll with pride as he spared her a glance. He was more than pleased that of the people there, she chose to trust him.


The guy introduced himself as Jesse Turner, and whatever air of confidence her vote of merit had given him was knocked right out of him like a swift punch to the gut. The Cambion. Quite a few people knew of the ex-antichrist, part demon/part human. Michael couldn't imagine Sam or Dean contacting a guy like him to find Aislin even if they had saw fit to spare his life when he was a child, and what was worse was the glaring statement that he had made by explaining that he had no intention of handing her over to her family as per request. ImageHe might have usually, in any other scenario, felt sorry for someone who had had to live their life with the kind of stigma Jesse must have. Hell, Sam Winchester had once had demon blood in his system and was meant to lead a demon army, but insert Aislin--out on her own all alone and at risk--and his sympathy leeched away. "So you just want to lure us all out of a safe neutral public place so we can "talk" but you won't say what it's about? Sorry dude if we seem a little less than eager to follow the Cambion. We don't know you and that's Hella sketchy."

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"Well apparently you know me by reputation. I even get a the in the front of my name. I'm flattered." Jesse could hear the disdain in Michael's voice when he said the word Cambion. The very mention of the word coming out of a hunter's mouth made Jesse's blood boil. Jesse had pretty thick skin overall and he tried to not let his anger show, but after all this time of bottling it up over and over again and every hunter he met giving him that same look and using that same tone, it was growing increasingly difficult to smother his more violent tendencies and honestly, he never liked taking anyone's crap.

"And yes, you caught me. The big, bad Anti-Christ wants to kill you...in public...outnumbered...and without a weapon. Oh, how did you figure out my diabolical plan?" Jesse said with as much sarcasm as he could muster through his frustration as he inched a step closer to Michael. "If I wanted to kill any of you, which I don't, I wouldn't be so stupid about it. Honestly, man, give me some credit. Nope, this is about some rumors I've been hearing. Whole towns going dark, people just seemingly vanishing off the face of the planet." Jesse stated matter of factly to the pair in front of him. "I need some help. Luckily for me, I happen to run into the daughter of one of the best hunters I've ever met." Jesse stated as he gestured back to Aislin. He stepped away from Michael and moved toward the nearby curb, taking a seat on the small edge.

"So, either we can continue the hunter/demon samba your kind seems to love so much and you could try and kill me or we could not waste time and I can help Ash and we can get to work. Your choice."

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Image “The cambion?” Aislin interjected after Michael, her voice an octave higher in confusion. Then Jesse responded to Michael's skepticism defensively and she was forced to suppress another boatload of questions as she was unable to get a word in edge wise. Her dad never mentioned to her he met a cambion. Then again, she was getting the feeling her dad had not told her a lot of things. "If I wanted to kill any of you, which I don't, I wouldn't be so stupid about it. Honestly, man, give me some credit. Nope, this is about some rumors I've been hearing. Whole towns going dark, people just seemingly vanishing off the face of the planet." Jesse stated matter of factly to the pair in front of him. "I need some help. Luckily for me, I happen to run into the daughter of one of the best hunters I've ever met." Aislin smirked at this statement, past the point of frustration and devolving into amusement. Who were these hunters talking about? She couldn’t believe her dork dad, the one that embarrassed her with hugs in front of her friends and attended PTA meetings religiously, was some kind of celebrity hunter; nor her Uncle Dean who seemed more content to kick back with a beer and watch football rather than gank monsters. They were the most reluctant hunters on planet Earth. Hunting was a life they had not chosen they repeatedly told her. It had been the family business for many years, but that family business ended with her.

Jesse took a few steps over to the curb in front of the diner and took a seat, nonchalantly looking up at the pair of them. "So, either we can continue the hunter/demon samba your kind seems to love so much and you could try and kill me or we could not waste time and I can help Ash and we can get to work. Your choice." There was a drawn out silence as each of them contemplated their two options. Her family had always advised her not to trust anything that was anything other than human. But Jesse was half human. “Whole towns disappearing.. that sounds pretty serious. What do you think could make whole towns vanish?” Aislin asked with a quiet yet interested tone, knowing very well she probably should have kept her nose out of this. Not just because this guy was a cambion, but she only had about two weeks before her first term of college started. Her dad would kill her for even thinking about hunting now... if her curiosity didn’t kill her first.

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"I have a theory, but I really hope I'm wrong. A virus." Jesse answered Ash's question. It was then he realized something; she didn't know what he was. She was just treating him like a normal person. It was a welcome change to Michael's automatic skepticism and Jesse was thankful for it. It still didn't feel good entertaining the theory in Jesse's mind. When he first heard about the Croatoan Virus, he thought it was too insane to be true. A virus that turned people into bloodthirsty psychopaths. But, in the world he had come to know over his years of running from hunters and demons, the ridiculous and the impossible were becoming more and more possible with each passing day.

"Ash, if this thing really is Croatoan, then this isn't just a few towns. It'll spread. First a state, then ten, then the whole country, and eventually, this thing could encompass the entire planet. It's bad and if I'm right, I can't afford to take the risk and do this by myself. I NEED help." Jesse said with a dire intensity as he spoke to the woman in front of him. He had forgotten in his excitement that Ash probably wasn't much younger than himself. For all he knew, she had never even hunted before. But Jesse couldn't shake the feeling that she was the one he needed help from and his instincts hadn't steered him wrong so far. Maybe it was because he had so much respect for her father and he saw a bit of Sam when he looked at her. Maybe it was the serendipity of the whole situation that was too unlikely to be anything normal. No matter what the case was, the situation at hand was still occurring. "So what do you think?"

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"I have a theory, but I really hope I'm wrong. A virus..." Jesse started as Michael scoffed, shoving his fists deep in his jean pockets, eyes falling downward as he scuffed the ground with the toe of his boot. If a common cold was out on a murderous rampage, then perhaps it was best to consult a doctor, not a Winchester. "Ash, if this thing really is Croatoan, then this isn't just a few towns. It'll spread. First a state, then ten, then the whole country, and eventually, this thing could encompass the entire planet. It's bad and if I'm right, I can't afford to take the risk and do this by myself. I NEED help." His head snapped up, blue eyes widened and alert.

Image"What?! That's a Hell of a leap. Croatoan? That thing hasn't been seen for years, where did you get an idea like that? I'd like to see some proof if I were you Aislin before I, well just personally speaking, would agree to go gallivanting off with the antichrist. Where's your evidence?" He scowled at the man across from him, the human/demon hybrid that set his teeth on edge. The boy that was everything he had been taught was to be killed.

Sure, he was probably being more than unfair to Jesse Turner. Many a hunter had gone on less than the word of a fellow gunslinger, Hell, everything they knew as a community was passed by word of mouth, most books nothing more than fantasy as opposed to concrete facts. Still, something in this guys air and manner of being screamed a warning and left Michael with this gnawing hole in the pit of his stomach. If Aislin was going to agree to go with this guy, Michael would be tagging along, that much was to be sure.

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Aislin’s eyes darted between Michael and Jesse, feeling caught in between the two sides now. Jesse seemed dead serious about it being end times and Michael's reaction to his claim that the apocalyptic virus was "Croatoan" confirmed what he was talking about was at least real. She winced at Michael’s use of the term antichrist, thinking it a bit blunt to say. It was bad enough having the androgynous nickname “Ash” and associated with some guy with a mullet her dad knew a long time ago, but being nicknamed the antichrist must have been a lot harder to grow up with. Even if Jesse was really the antichrist, she learned it never hurt to craft her answers so they did not trample on another person’s feelings. On the other hand, she agreed with Michael about wanting a little bit more proof or even a definition of Croatan so she knew what the heck they were dealing with.

ImageAlso, despite all Aislin's pride and bravado, she felt reasonably cowed by the idea of having the world on her shoulders when she barely had one hunt under her belt. “Look, Jesse, what you’re talking about sounds like something bigger than I’m cut out to handle. Despite what either of you have said about my family.. we can hardly avert a crisis when someone eats the last piece of pie before my Uncle Dean can have any. That’s practically apocalyptic in my household.” Aislin half-laughed trying to keep the conversation light, “Besides I need to be in Stanford in two weeks, that doesn’t leave much time for saving the world.”

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Character Portrait: Michael Bryant Character Portrait: Jesse Turner Character Portrait: Booker Thompson Character Portrait: Aislin Winchester Character Portrait: Arlen Elrik
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It was easy for Jesse to laugh when Aislin talked about needing to be on time for school. "Sorry, I just haven't worried about being late to anything for a long time." Jesse said as he let his laugh reside so he could speak normally. "I can promise you'll be there on time. Just help me with research and if this lead goes no where, then I'll help you with your dad." if there was one thing Jesse knew how to do, it was hide, especially from hunters. He had been doing all his life and while his Cambion nature kept him mostly cloaked from detection. That didn't work with word of mouth and being seen, but in those cases, Jesse could usually handle himself just fine.

"I have a name and a word and..." Jesse stopped talking as soon as the idea hit him like a tone of brick. He was mentally kicking fir himself for being so stupid and not noticing it sooner. "I can't believe I was so stupid. You probably passed it on the way here. A club called Pagan." he spat out with his palm on his forehead in frustration. The importance of grammar, he thought. Happens more often when you stopped going to regular school at twelve. "There's someone there named Hecate. I don't know a damn thing about them, but if they own a club with such an obvious tell for a name, they have to be neutral at least." Jesse said with a simple puff of breath. "A little bit of research and a trip to a club possibly owned by a god. That's all I'm asking. You do this, I'll make sure you get to Stanford in two weeks on time and in one piece. Deal?" Jesse said extending his hand for Ash to hopefully shake as he then turned his gaze towards Michael. "And if I really am as demonic as you say, then I can't break a deal, even if I wanted to."

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Character Portrait: Michael Bryant Character Portrait: Jesse Turner Character Portrait: Booker Thompson Character Portrait: Aislin Winchester Character Portrait: Arlen Elrik
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Arlen blinked. She'd been completely zoning out for god knows how long, just pondering over that one word and completely missing everything in between.

Croatoan.

She'd heard of that before. Somewhere, from some runaway demon who was trying to summon Lucifer and revealed itself to Arlen and spilled all the beans of basically everything about anything. This was mentioned somewhere in that case. Croatoan, a virus, an unexplainable, seemingly temporary virus that seemed like the most dangerous thing out there. Anyone could get it, by contact with infected blood, and it spreads faster than wild fire, and from what Arlen could hear from the muffled voices she'd been subconsciously blocking out.... It was back.

Arlen snapped her head up and looked over to Booker, locking eyes with him for a split second. And even though it was a split second, it was all it took for her to register that he was lying about whatever he had said to her... Something about hunting, not going well, the Winchester bandwagon...

The Winchesters.

Arlen flicked her gaze over to the only other female in the group she was standing in, and pointed subtly at her. Muttering, 'I pissed you off...' She then brought her eyes over to the butch guy next to her, standing sort of protectively. 'You got really proud really fast...' She then landed her look on the man laying a hand out to the Winchester. 'And you're trying to make a deal... with Croatoan... Two Weeks.. Research...' She snapped her fingers and nodded her head.

'A Case! There's a case, on Croatoan, and... and there's a bar, with a...' She paused for a bit, '...God?' She pointed again to the man with his hand extended, 'And YOU need help with it,' she pointed to the butch guy, 'YOU are being too proud over something and will do whatever...' She finally pointed to The Winchester, 'YOU do or say... and you're also really pissed at me... Ooh, yeah, sorry about that...'

And it was right about then Arlen realised, she was talking aloud. And quite loud.

She needed something to make it up to them... Do something productive for once, take a break from catching rides with old smelly pedophiles with moldy beds in the back of their vans... She finally snapped up and stepped forward a bit.

'I'll take the case with you,' Arlen cleared her throat, 'if the Winchester -- What's your name? I didn't catch it -- refuses.'


((SO MONUMENTALLY SORRY I HAVEN'T POSTED -- IT WILL NEVER HAPPEN AGAIN))

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Character Portrait: Michael Bryant Character Portrait: Jesse Turner Character Portrait: Booker Thompson Character Portrait: Aislin Winchester Character Portrait: Arlen Elrik
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Aislin's fiery competitive pride reared its ugly head at Arlen's offer to help Jesse should she refuse. Honestly, it wasn’t because she was a chicken that she didn’t want to take the mission, she just didn't want to nix all her responsibility and go on a hunt that was way over her head. But now, all of a sudden, it seemed completely reasonable and doable that she could save the world with only two weeks before the start of college. “It's Aislin and I am taking the case.” She declared suddenly, “But ONLY for a week. I have to be at college ahead of time to get my dorm set up and for my first volleyball practice. My dad will kill me if I lose my volleyball scholarship.” She emphasized raising her pointer finger at Jesse, “And if you want to help me with my dad, you'll call him back and say you haven't found me. I do not want him to know where I am.”

ImageShe then clasped her hands and rubbed them together schemingly, the wheels in her mind spinning as she plotted their next steps. As team captain for her volleyball team and president of the mathletes, she fell naturally into a leadership role and did not hesitate to take control, even if she was the least qualified of the bunch. She had to make sure her new hodge-podge team thrown together at a diner with introductions barely out of the way and no trust between them were ready. She sure had her work cut out for her, but there was no time for apprehension with such a monumental task ahead of them. "Now. For such a risky task as going to question a goddess in her own nightclub about the end of the world.. We might need a few more people on our side. You think you might get your friend there to come help us?" Aislin asked Arlen nodding to Booker who was standing passively by. Then she spun around back to Michael, "And I hope you'll help? I know it's a lot to ask and you're skeptical about all this.. But please?" Her dark eyes softened into imploring glossy orbs.

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Character Portrait: Michael Bryant Character Portrait: Jesse Turner Character Portrait: Booker Thompson Character Portrait: Aislin Winchester Character Portrait: Arlen Elrik
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Arlen smirked faintly at Aislin's sudden pride and competitiveness at her offer to join the hunt. Well, a Winchester's gotta stay on top I guess, she thought. She never really had a problem with competitiveness and willing to be on top, everyone wanted to be there anyway. But if someone started getting cocky, she was out. Luckily though, she hadn't really come across that quite yet -- this looked like it was going to be an alright hunt.

She nodded curtly at Aislin's question. 'Well, nice to meet you, Aislin. And yeah, lemme see if I can talk him 'round.' She turned to Booker and looked at him. He hadn't said anything since she had woken up from her zone-outage, and she was wondering if he could tell if she knew he was lying about what he had said. He didn't come from a family of hunters, that was all she had gotten out of it, and she didn't really care about the rest of his statement. It was obvious that he had made up that lie on the spot, and it was a pretty convincing one for the circumstances, but still not entirely convincing enough for Arlen. She raised her eyebrow at him.

'So, you up to tag along for the ride, Turtle, or are you too busy keeping off the 'Winchester Bandwagon' with your grandpap?' She nodded vaguely over to Aislin and raised her eyebrow again.

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Character Portrait: Michael Bryant Character Portrait: Jesse Turner Character Portrait: Booker Thompson Character Portrait: Aislin Winchester Character Portrait: Arlen Elrik Character Portrait: Asher Bryant
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Of course Aislin immediately accepted the danger fraught offer as soon as the redhead had opened her mouth, she smelled a challenge. Michael internally groaned. Of course, typical Winchester. It was awfully difficult protecting someone who was genetically predispositioned to throw themselves into death's patient and outstretched claws.

Aislin, despite not seeming to actually know much about her history or hunting in general, immediately took the leadership role al la Sam. She seemed like the girl, regardless of all the knowledge she lacked, who could come up with a plan on spot; the type that was always prepared. She turned to him last, big brown doey eyes pleading. "And I hope you'll help? I know it's a lot to ask and you're skeptical about all this.. But please?" It was so unfair...downright criminal even. She had most certainly inherited her father's lost puppy dog expression.

"Ugh, fine but this is stupid and I think you know it." He voiced, tone dragging like his proverbial feet. "And I don't trust him, you shouldn't either." Michael hissed quietly, head swinging in Jesse's direction, fingers twitching at his side for the blade stuffed in his boot. With one final huff, he turned and eyed Arlen up and down while she spoke with the ever distant Booker. "I'm so not even proud or whatever." He complained to Aislin, his ego wounded. "The club isn't too far or anything, but it's far enough that I can't leave my brother here...The nerd might get himself into trouble if I'm not around. I'll have to go pick him up, you riding with us?" He arched a dark quizzical brow. She had trusted him enough to stand by his side when Jesse approached, hopefully she'd be comfortable enough to get into his truck.

ImageIt might have seemed a bit crazy to follow this girl into a battle he wasn't even sure was being waged all for the sake that she bore the surname Winchester, but a Winchester that shared the same sort of dedication to his own brother that Michael did, had saved them both. Those brothers were the reason Asher was still alive, and Michael would be eternally grateful for that...he just hoped this notion of debt on honor didn't come at the expense of his or Asher's lives.

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Character Portrait: Michael Bryant Character Portrait: Jesse Turner Character Portrait: Booker Thompson Character Portrait: Aislin Winchester Character Portrait: Arlen Elrik Character Portrait: Asher Bryant
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"Ugh, fine but this is stupid and I think you know it." He voiced, tone dragging like his proverbial feet. "And I don't trust him, you shouldn't either." Aislin’s face broke into a full giddy smile, pleased with his agreement to come along even if he was reluctant. “C’mon, give ‘im a break. If my dad saved him, he can’t be completely bad.” Aislin dismissed Michael’s concern, waving her hand as if to shoo away the bad thoughts. “Besides, going into a hunt with that sort of attitude towards your team mates isn’t going to help us.” Michael didn’t seem to pay attention to her last comment, too busy giving the evil eye to the redhead now talking with the aloof Booker ”I’m so not even proud or whatever.” he grumbled. She snorted, having not known him for very long but convinced of the inaccuracy of his statement. “Well, at least we won’t be stuck guessing what she thinks. She’s not afraid to speak her mind for sure.”

”The club isn't too far or anything, but it's far enough that I can't leave my brother here...The nerd might get himself into trouble if I'm not around. I'll have to go pick him up, you riding with us?" Aislin gave a positive nod of her brunette head. Perhaps her dad had been right in keeping a tight leash on her, day one out of his sight and she was already on a hunt with complete strangers. But she felt like she was in good hands. Even if Michael’s worry was a little unfair to Jesse, she could tell it came from a place of genuine concern. Probably due to the fact he was indebted to her dad and uncle, but all the same, she was grateful he was sticking by her. She tilted her head to the side with a thoughtful look on her face “Somehow I’m not surprised you’re a big brother.” she said. There was no time to inquire for an explanation of this statement before one of the waitresses in the diner stuck her head out the door and yelled at all of them, “Hey!! All you kids need to pay for your meals!”

Aislin nudged Michael with her elbow chuckling, having not forgotten their little wager, “I guess I’ll meet you by your car. Which one is it?”