[ green team, soldier types; this place sure had a way of making dean feel all warm and homey but hell, since when did they think bringing in kids was a good idea?
not that he isn't one to know that age doesn't imply a lack of experience; he's been taught how to use a gun long before he was taught bullshit algebra, and by her age (or her apparent age, anyway), he'd already seen and killed his fair share of nightmares. no, see, he could reason putting an asshole like himself into the meat shield team, but people like her? it wasn't right.
he didn't know much about her, save for her name and the fact that she was a lot stronger and faster than she looked and her smile had one of those infectious qualities; anyone who could bust even a single smile in a place like this shouldn't be underestimated. and she was handling a weird situation extremely well, which probably just meant she's seen enough Weird already. he sure as hell didn't know, and if he learned anything in his own life, it's that it's simpler not to ask.
instead, he's toying with the gun this spaceship CCD or DCC or CDC or whatever they called themselves had provided him, before tossing a look at the girl, two relative newbies in a new realm of Messed Up.
just another tuesday. ] Hey - you ah - you doin' alright?
[ dean was pretty shit at this whole team concept; his only team had been sammy for a very long time; sometimes sammy and cas and neither of them were here (good riddance, too). he was still...adjusting and this was him making an effort. ]
[ If you asked Caroline, she didn't think any of this was fair on any of them. Some people may have agreed to be here but most of the others? They'd been tricked, just like she had. And what she had yes to hadn't been anything close to anything like this. It hadn't even been an agreeing yes of any sort, just a confirming yes.
Yet she was here, with others just like her. Prisoners, in her mind.
Not that she showed it, really. It wasn't just about appearing strong for others, it was about not losing control of herself. Even before her vampiric tendencies, Caroline was a practice in control. Everything down to the last second perfectly planned and executed. Even her personality was custom-tailored to make people happy. Despite all of that, Caroline found comfort in control over herself and her surroundings to the degree that she could control them. Which meant not losing it over this, even if it was a disaster in every shape of the word.
Caroline had been lost in her own thoughts, sitting with a gun across her lap that she had only just started to be trained on, when the boy- man near her caught her attention. She snapped out of her reverie and offered up a reassuring smile at him. ]
Yeah. [ She perked up. Then squeezed her eyes and her lips in a tight smile and shook her head. ] Sorry, guess I just... got lost in my own head there for a second.
I didn't even hear you come in. [ Well, she'd heard but she'd not paid attention. Then her smile got wry. ] But you are the quiet, skulking type, aren't you? Dean, right? [ She'd seen him around a few times, enough to know he was better with that gun than she could ever hope to be. ]
GUESS WHO DID NOT GET THIS TAG BECAUSE I DIDN"T HAVE THE RIGHT EMAIL HERE i am so sorry !!!!
[ Yeah, these guys were tricking sons of bitches, if you asked him. Hell, even if you didn't, he must've belted it out enough times for it to be heard, when he first arrived. That whole yes thing was just flat out insulting, and they used the best excuse in the book to make him agree; they needed help, please, there's a demon nearby, will you come? Annoyingly simple, really.
There's that smile again, and his answer is nothing but a brief and lopsided press to his mouth. ] I don't blame you; this place shoves a lot down your throat all at once, doesn't it.
[ Quiet, skulking type was more accurate than he would like to admit, but that might as well be written in his file. He watches her with a careful sort of eye, measured, lingering on the weapon on her lap.
God, no. How old was she? Eighteen, nineteen at most? This wasn't right, regardless of what she may have faced in her world to be put into this team. But she was playing this game of control, and so would he. At least this wasn't purgatory, and so far, nothing was trying to eat him. Small bonus points, for now. ] Hey now, I'm a ray of sunshine when i want to be, but yeah. That's me.
[ A sigh, slowly pushed out before he's nodding at that gun. ] How's that thing treating you?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
IDK OK
not that he isn't one to know that age doesn't imply a lack of experience; he's been taught how to use a gun long before he was taught bullshit algebra, and by her age (or her apparent age, anyway), he'd already seen and killed his fair share of nightmares. no, see, he could reason putting an asshole like himself into the meat shield team, but people like her? it wasn't right.
he didn't know much about her, save for her name and the fact that she was a lot stronger and faster than she looked and her smile had one of those infectious qualities; anyone who could bust even a single smile in a place like this shouldn't be underestimated. and she was handling a weird situation extremely well, which probably just meant she's seen enough Weird already. he sure as hell didn't know, and if he learned anything in his own life, it's that it's simpler not to ask.
instead, he's toying with the gun this spaceship CCD or DCC or CDC or whatever they called themselves had provided him, before tossing a look at the girl, two relative newbies in a new realm of Messed Up.
just another tuesday. ] Hey - you ah - you doin' alright?
[ dean was pretty shit at this whole team concept; his only team had been sammy for a very long time; sometimes sammy and cas and neither of them were here (good riddance, too). he was still...adjusting and this was him making an effort. ]
NO YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL <33333
Yet she was here, with others just like her. Prisoners, in her mind.
Not that she showed it, really. It wasn't just about appearing strong for others, it was about not losing control of herself. Even before her vampiric tendencies, Caroline was a practice in control. Everything down to the last second perfectly planned and executed. Even her personality was custom-tailored to make people happy. Despite all of that, Caroline found comfort in control over herself and her surroundings to the degree that she could control them. Which meant not losing it over this, even if it was a disaster in every shape of the word.
Caroline had been lost in her own thoughts, sitting with a gun across her lap that she had only just started to be trained on, when the boy- man near her caught her attention. She snapped out of her reverie and offered up a reassuring smile at him. ]
Yeah. [ She perked up. Then squeezed her eyes and her lips in a tight smile and shook her head. ] Sorry, guess I just... got lost in my own head there for a second.
I didn't even hear you come in. [ Well, she'd heard but she'd not paid attention. Then her smile got wry. ] But you are the quiet, skulking type, aren't you? Dean, right? [ She'd seen him around a few times, enough to know he was better with that gun than she could ever hope to be. ]
GUESS WHO DID NOT GET THIS TAG BECAUSE I DIDN"T HAVE THE RIGHT EMAIL HERE i am so sorry !!!!
There's that smile again, and his answer is nothing but a brief and lopsided press to his mouth. ] I don't blame you; this place shoves a lot down your throat all at once, doesn't it.
[ Quiet, skulking type was more accurate than he would like to admit, but that might as well be written in his file. He watches her with a careful sort of eye, measured, lingering on the weapon on her lap.
God, no. How old was she? Eighteen, nineteen at most? This wasn't right, regardless of what she may have faced in her world to be put into this team. But she was playing this game of control, and so would he. At least this wasn't purgatory, and so far, nothing was trying to eat him. Small bonus points, for now. ] Hey now, I'm a ray of sunshine when i want to be, but yeah. That's me.
[ A sigh, slowly pushed out before he's nodding at that gun. ] How's that thing treating you?