Owner	Pose
Sam Winchester	Sam Winchester is fresh from his weekly WAND check-in this morning, which means he's dressed in a suit with no tie. He's also distracted, sitting at the kitchen table with a yellow highlighter and a black marker, as well as a bunch of newspaper articles printed out from his tablet. He goes through each one carefully, making marks on the map, noting a time and a date next to that mark, and then highlighting between marks. On the table, untouched, what looks like a peach smoothie. It smells like a peach smoothie too, probably because it is, in fact, a peach smoothie.
Dean Winchester	Dean is terrible at weekly check-in. There's no question Dean is terrible at weekly check-in. But this probably isn't a surprise to anyone. He treads in from the hall (and presumably outside?) in a mechanic-jumpsuit--just green enough to make his eyes seem that much greener. An oil stain across the front probably suggests that he's been busy taking care of work. He shoots his brother a lopsided grin. "Decided to become a funeral director?" He whistles sharply as he slips towards the refrigerator and nabs a bottle of beer. It's not yet noon.
Sam Winchester	Sam ignores the barb, as Sam so often does. Instead of engaging, he just looks up rather seriously. He's even got the SHIELD badge pinned to his chest, still. "I think we have a case, something I picked up from WAND this morning." is his greeting instead. "I can't figure out what's doing it though. I've scoured every lore book I have, I've been all over the Internet. I think I know where it's going and where it will be next though."
Dean Winchester	Dean's features tighten slightly. "Reeeeally." He's intrigued now. He pops the top off his beer and treads to where his brother is sitting. "So, what makes you think it's a case? I mean, without any of the usual features, it seems difficult confirm." He manages a flicker of a smile at that and then shrugs his shoulders.
Sam Winchester	"A series of drownings," Sam explains. "They always happen on foggy nights, always children, and there have been hoof prints at every crime scene. They started in Briarcliff Manor and they've followed the Hudson River. Every three days it seems to hit a new town. Croton-on-Hudson, Peekskill, West Point. I think it's going to hit Beacon next. Because of the Croton connection I thought it was the little-h hydra, but there were no giant snake sightings on any of the kooksites, and nobody had any acid burns. The hydra's patterns aren't so specific, either, it seems like it will pretty much eat anything that moves, so this one has to be different. It can't be another rusalka, those don't move. Can't be a kappa, because when the corpses are recovered they're in perfect shape, instead of mangled and eaten." A pause, and then a grimace. "Man, I don't know what it is with us and water cases lately."
Dean Winchester	Dean had taken a long swig of his beer when Sam begins to describe the case. It's unfortunate, because in an instant his face pales and he struggles to catch his breath around the fluid that's already in his mouth. In a strange chain reaction, the beer is spat back towards the sink. Dean coughs hard. He raises his hands, the universal symbol that everything is okay. "Tried to drink too much at once," he virtually wheezes. His eyebrows draw together and he finally shakes his head. "Sounds like a Bäckahästen." His lips purse and his nostrils flare. And then with a tick of his head, he sees fit to explain further. "A brook horse. They're white, beautiful creatures that try to entice kids to ride them to their doom. They drown kids." His lips purse and he rubs the back of his neck as the bottle of beer is left to the counter and he clears his throat. As far as why they have so many water cases, "It's crazy. And weirdly coincidental."
Sam Winchester	"A Backa-whatsen?" Sam asks.<br><br>And then he shakes his head. Weird. Deja vu. Only not quite right. He ignores said deja vu in favor of saying, "How did you know that, anyway?" After all, Sam has gotten used to being the encyclopedia, but he couldn't find a single thing in any of his memorized knowledge to suggest what a Backahasten was. And here's Dean, talking on it like he's some sort of expert. He frowns. "I don't think I ever saw that one in Dad's journal, either."<br><br>Still, he finally sweeps up his smoothie, saying, "It's probably going to be in Beacon around midnight tonight."
Dean Winchester	Dean's head cants to the side while he mulls the question over. How does he know that? "Uh..." that's a good question. "Maybe you don't know Dad's journal as well as you think you do." He puts the whole thing back on Sam, and not on the fact that he destroyed that tome just under nine years ago. As for where the brook horse will be, "Yeaaaah. They like fog. A lot of it. And the only way to kill them is to pierce their heart with steel. We could try to trap it, but again, steel cage." He sucks on the inside of his cheek. "It'll aim for one of the weird kids at school too. Like the odd ones."
Sam Winchester	@emit Sam ticks an eyebrow upward, but he doesn't argue. He got a photocopied partial during his year-long hunt, but he was able to tell right away things were missing from it. Either way, it doesn't seem worth arguing about. <br><br> Instead, he taps into his tablet. "There's an old steel mill right on the route," he says. "We might be able to find some useful stuff to work with there. We've got plenty of time to go see before the thing is expected to appear. 'Weird kids' might help us pinpoint the right spot on the river, too...if one of those kids has a house that's pretty close to the water, for example."
Dean Winchester	Dean's hands clap together and his lips twist to the side. He's quite obviously considering something as he stares at Sam a few beats longer than is probably comfortable. "Right. Well we should go then." And then his eyes light up, as he offers, "I mean, unless you need to talk to your lady friend before you go. I can totally handle this if you're too relationship-y. Just saying." His lips hitch up on one side into a boyish grin. But there's no way that Sam is taking that bait and so Dean is already shedding the mechanic jumpsuit. "I'll drive." Clearly.
Sam Winchester	Sam gives Dean a milder version of his irritated face. "All Fred asks is that I take back-up," he says. It's almost prim, the way he says it. But of course Dean will drive. He grabs up a few of his things and follows after his brother.<br><br> And then he decides to give Dean a little shit. With the grin of mischief he only really adopts when he's giving Dean crap he adds, "Though maybe I should call her, just to find out if you count..."
Dean Winchester	There's another quirk of Dean's lips at the remark. He does up his seatbelt and hums in turn. "Nah bro, you're the back up. You didn't even know what this thing was." His grin grows as he puts the car into drive and tugs on a pair of sunglasses. In no time the impala is cruising down a stretch of highway towards the steel mill listening to Iron Maiden. It's then that Dean turns the music down and turns his head towards Sam. "So... I've been thinking maybe you should learn how to take care of the Impala. I was working on the carburetor this morning so it would start faster." He purses his lips. "I mean, Mercy could probably teach you. Dad taught me. Kind of." His lips curve up at that.
Sam Winchester	And that is the moment that Sam Winchester starts having some real suspicions.<br><br>Point of fact, he does have some minor car repair skills of his own. He's nothing like Dean, of course...he gets stumped and usually needs Dean's help. But he took care of his currently-missing Dodge Charger for all that time he was on the road. He got kidnapped, in fact, in part because he stopped to help a woman on the road. He knows basics. Spark plugs, that sort of thing.<br><br>The fact that Dean floats //Mercy// to teach him even before himself sets off some alarm bells in the head of one Winchester the Younger.<br><br>Something is going on. Now how can he find out what it is?<br><br>"I'm surprised you'd let Mercy touch the Impala," he says evenly. "I mean you barely met her. Have you guys even exchanged a conversation? Even one about cars?"
Dean Winchester	"Uh-uh-uh," there's clear admonishment in Dean's voice. "I said Mercy could teach //you//. I didn't say //she// could touch the Impala," Dean objects evenly. "Just thinking aloud." He swallows the growing lump in his throat but manages an incredibly convincing all-too-smug smile when he turns to face Sam with a one shouldered shrug. "But you don't want to learn? Dude, that's entirely your thing. Just don't want you turning your life into one endless chick flick now that you're all joint at the hip and stuff." And just for good measure the Impala speeds up. "How far the steel mill?" because the case is easy in comparison. "I'm thinking if we can find something long and sharp. Hunter's knives are pretty ineffective. I mean, it should work," his cheeks puff out with recollection, "but getting close enough to pierce it's heart? It's still a horse. There's a lot of flesh there. And touching it?" he whistles sharply. "That's when it gets you. A person can escape from that. They're stuck until..." he doesn't finish the thought, instead opting to focus on the road.