BOBBY SINGER
Hunter
Posts: 108
Played by:
ANGE
Last seen Mar 7, 2024 20:16:43 GMT
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Post by BOBBY SINGER on Mar 29, 2023 15:54:28 GMT
Bumping over the hard cut ruts in the trail, Bobby grunted. His back, like everything and everyone in his life these days, nagging at him. That trip up to Heaven hadn’t done a damn thing to cure those little niggles. He’d rushed through that portal, not expecting much other than to fall flat on his face, right back there in that tired old house, with Karen’s voice calling out to him like that made the place home. Instead it’d been like he’d never been gone. The same old aches and pains, the same lines staring back at him in the spotted mirror of a gas station bathroom as he’d tried to pull himself together to go and look for those boys. Not so much reborn as spat right back out.
Into this.
He knocked the brim of his hat back as he craned forward in his seat, trying to catch sight of the abandoned farmstead up ahead. Without the track he mighta missed it, the trees out here thick enough to create a near solid screen of budding spring green. Someone had kept it semi-clear though, the tire ruts cutting along it not just the fossilised remains of its former glory as a working farm. Teenagers probably, heading out here from the college to do what teenagers did best – drink, fornicate and find trouble. If he hadn’t been wrong about the son of a bitch who’d driven through the gate at Whitmore with the girl who’d turned up dead a day later, then that trouble was gonna come with a pair of black peepers and the stench of sulphur.
That rat bastard Crowley hadn’t bothered answering the summons that morning to snivel his way out of the accusation that the demon had been one of his. The surface of the bowl of blood had stayed flat as the pond out back of the farmhouse, his phone – far more convenient and easier to ignore – equally dead. There hadn’t been any point in trying to coax any sorta conversation out of the other side, even if they had the balls to come knocking on his door the same way they had Dean’s and Sammy’s. Packing his stuff into the back of the car, Bobby figured his only way of knowing for sure was to come and pay a little visit. Avon calling – with holy water, a demon blade and a list of questions as long as his arm.
Bobby slowed the truck as he reached the end of the trail. The land was opening up ahead of him, opening up into a scrubby clearing around what remained of the house. Through the thinned out edge of the trees he could see the flash of rusty red of that son of a bitch’s car. The cameras at the gas station hadn’t sent him on a goose chase then. He’d pulled off the road after he’d gassed up, hadn’t turned himself around or turned off of the trail anywhere – not that there’d been many places to do it.
Not wanting to risk Hell’s welcome wagon, Bobby pulled off the track before he reached its end, gliding as far into the trees as he could. The place was silent as he slipped out and headed round to the bed to retrieve his duffel. He dragged the straps up over his shoulder, held the shotgun in his hands as he picked his way towards the house.
Still no movement. His gaze skittering between the shattered windows like the demon would pop up in one of them. Hell’s version of one of those shooting games at a carnival, only it’d be some poor sap’s head that’d turn to chum if this went bad fast. Maybe the guy who’d once occupied that sack of flesh was still in there somewhere, stripped bare as a live wire by what had happened while he hadn’t been in control, more than likely not.
Creeping around to the rear of the house, quiet as a mouse. The front porch had looked like it would collapse under his weight, the back wasn’t much better, but the dry, cracked boards held with barely a creak. The kitchen beyond looked like it’d been torn apart by a tornado, what furniture remained tossed over, the shattered remnants of the glass that had once been framed by pretty chintzy drapes – the sort Karen had tried to use to take the rough edges off of their home – revealed the hallway beyond, a wedge of the living room. The demon standing there on the tattered rug, the thick red lines of a painted demon’s trap emerging from under it.
He turned the knob slowly, finding that the door opened silently. Bobby’s gaze remained fixed on the brunet, eyes shooting wide as he saw the smirk start to twist what would be a handsome face for only a few minutes longer. The words of the spell he was speaking spilled out, dust seeming to rise from the rug as the hair rose on his arms. ”Hey, asshole!” He didn’t wait to see who’d spill from the portion of the room he couldn’t see, the exorcism that had already started to falter cut off mid speech. Bobby raised the shotgun to his shoulder and fired a load of rock salt at the son of a bitch before he finished his spell and broke his way out of there to maybe put another body on a slab in the morgue.
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ROXANNE BRASCHI
Chimera
psychic-skinwalker
Posts: 176
Age:
30
Occupation:
Professor at Whitmore College
Status:
In a Relationship
Partner:
Chase Buckley
Played by:
Julia
Last seen May 2, 2024 18:30:46 GMT
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Post by ROXANNE BRASCHI on May 7, 2023 18:02:14 GMT
━ i don't know where i'm going, but i sure know where i've been ━ SHE DID MISS HUNTING. NOT ONLY DID IT CONNECT HER TO her dad, but it made Roxxi feel good. Like she was contributing to something. Maybe that’s why she was doing it, like she needed to even out the other choices in her life. She wouldn’t slip and become an Agnelli if she continued in the footsteps her father had set out for her. She wouldn’t be like them. She would be the only one of her sisters to stay on the right path, and her father would know that. Somewhere up in Heaven, he was looking down on her, watching his piccolo angelo try to live a life he would approve of. She’d been failing lately, but Roxxi would straighten up. On top of the regular Catholic guilt, she had that image of her dad, and it would keep her in line. Hopefully.
She’d caught a whiff of sulphur the moment she saw him traipsing through Whitmore━through her school like he owned the place. Roxxi read the girl’s name in the paper days later and kicked herself for not following her instincts. She would now.
Roxxi followed him and made note of his crummy little hideout. She snuck in later, after he was gone, and spray-painted the trap beneath the large carpet, scraping the bottom of the barrel of memories with her father. She hid in the back room later and waited, unwilling to waste a second that this pezzo di merda had free. He would return, and she would exorcise him, and that would be her first in… too many years. But not her last.
She hoped.
The truck’s squeaky body alerted her to his presence first, then the sound of tires desperately trudging through the mud, and something clicking underneath the hood. Roxxi bristled, her muscles tightening as she willed them to keep steady. She went from reciting the exorcism aloud to repeating it in her head, trying to ensure it was perfect. Her father used to make them do the same thing, and Roxxi hated it, but now she was grateful for him. She supposed that had been his plan all along, and it made her smile at a time when it probably wasn’t appropriate.
She heard him enter, and let him walk a few steps before she shifted out, armed with a gun and the Holy water in a vial in her pocket.
“What the hell are you doing in my house?”
“You call this a house?” Roxxi scoffed, dark eyes flicking over the interior. It was worse than the one she’d met Mal in, but the memory of that turned her stomach now. “I’m here for you. I know you killed that girl, and it’s time someone sent you back to where you came from.”
The demon trudged forward angrily, directly onto the carpet, but Roxxi didn’t move. After a moment, he bounced off the invisible forcefield caused by the painted trap, and Roxxi smirked, watching the realization cross the demon’s face. “You little bitch━”
She wasn’t up to talking or being the wall he hurled his insults against. Roxxi started the exorcism, watching him writhe and twitch through it. Suddenly he began to speak, though, reciting something through gritted teeth. Roxxi tried to push through the exorcism without getting distracted, though she faltered as a new heartbeat joined theirs. Dio, did he bring a fucking friend with him?
Roxxi’s head snapped in the stranger’s direction as he yelled, her words tapering out. Whatever he’d been shot with splattered into the demon in pieces and wounded him, and Roxxi stepped out, keeping her distance from the edge of the carpet and the newcomer.
It was an old man. She furrowed her brow, wondering how he got here━how he knew to get in━or if most of it was just a lucky coincidence. Roxxi nodded curtly at him, then directed her attention back to the demon. “I guess you pissed off enough people while you were here.” She muttered, and began the exorcism again, fishing the Holy water from her pocket to douse him with as soon as he got a little too lively.
As soon as she’d made her way through the entire thing, the demon exploded from the man’s mouth. Roxxi rocked onto her back foot and steadied herself, staring proudly as the smoke shot out and carried downwards. The shell that was left, however, crumpled to the floor.
Cursing under her breath in Italian, Roxxi dropped to her knees beside the body and turned him over, frowning as she checked his pulse (mostly for show). She heard and felt nothing. He was gone. “He’s dead.” She sighed, then stood and faced the older guy again. “Thank you for the backup. Did you track him here from the school, too?” She asked, “Or did he go after someone else in another part of town?”
BOBBY SINGER | no notes.
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BOBBY SINGER
Hunter
Posts: 108
Played by:
ANGE
Last seen Mar 7, 2024 20:16:43 GMT
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Post by BOBBY SINGER on May 18, 2023 18:51:45 GMT
Either Lucifer’s or Crowley’s people were truly beginning to slum it. Demons usually didn’t bother with hovels when a little slide sideways into some rich son of a bitch guaranteed to be living in up in some plush pad. Hell might’ve burned plenty out of them, but those sins still bubbled away inside those sooty smoke tendrils. The place this demon had picked out had never been plush, like his own place, it’d been a working farm once. Outbuildings were crumbling hulks in the distance, roofs sagging where they were left at all, walls tilting, just waiting for the next big storm to go with them. Things hadn’t got much better once he'd picked his way inside, over the sagging porch, down a hallway that was shredding its wallpaper like dandruff. The carpet that stretched raggedly over the living room floor would probably turn to dust if you looked at it too hard, but it had obviously been enough to conceal the devil’s trap beneath from this idiot.
The certainty that this was a dumb son of a bitch who’d merely got lucky with the girl he’d taken from Whitmore and killed dried up faster. Dumb sons of bitches didn’t murmur spells under their breath – oh it took some learning for that, the sort that normally came from a human life spent playing at being Lord Voldemort, or at least some sorta warlock, the evil could’ve come later after all. The woman’s voice had still been carrying over the demon’s, maybe drowning him out to the point where she hadn’t realised that she was caught in a race to see which of them could finish first. One crack through an old floor board would shatter all that was holding him there. Not waiting to see if she managed it, Bobby squeezed the trigger on the shotgun.
Blood splattered through the dust in the air, pink mist meeting that muddy grey. It wasn’t enough to stop the thing for long though, rock salt a tickle to something that could heal just about any damage to the poor bastard he was wearing, if it wanted to. His ears rang – too many shots taken without ear protection when there’d seemed no point in being precious about a little tinnitus – the woman’s voice seeming to tail off in the wake of the shot, although Bobby wasn’t entirely sure until she stepped out into the open (away from the edge of the carpet, and him, at least).
Bobby let the shotgun sag, but still had its stock resting against his chest in case he needed to bring it up against at a moment’s notice. His lips curved in a sour smile, his fingers tugging at the brim of his cap in a ‘you’re welcome’ gesture for the thanks he hadn’t got from her. ”I’m bettin’ there’s more who didn’t know which rock he’d gone hidin’ under,” he muttered. The girl’s family for one. Any hunter worth their salt woulda been suspicious about the newspaper article enough to come sniffing around. Obviously the brunette had some smarts about her – along with the naivety, or lack of experience, whichever had left her deaf to what the demon was up to.
His lip curled as the exorcism started again, his nose wrinkling at the scent of searing flesh as the Holy water went to work weakening the demon’s hold on the body. This time she wasn’t taking it slow. The words they all learned by heart eventually spilled out of her lips, the final one sending the demon pouring out of the man’s mouth. It vanished into the flooring, going a hell of a lot deeper than the place’s root cellar. He might’ve bent as the woman did, to put his fingers to the poor bastard’s neck, but he would’ve laid money on the demon burning the life out of the body quickly enough after it took up residence, if the meat suit hadn’t been dead already.
Making a low sound of agreement in his throat, Bobby finally let the shotgun drop the rest of the way. It dangled loose along the line of his thigh, his finger far enough off the trigger to tap lightly against the barrel. ”Bettin’ that part wasn’t recent. Somethin’ like that’ll ride ‘em hard and put ‘em away worse than wet.” His other hand came up again, giving the brim of his cap a slight adjustment. ”You’re welcome.” She was more than that. Maybe it’d been providence that’d had him turning up at the right moment, maybe just pure luck.
Beneath the brim of his cap, Bobby narrowed his eyes at the woman. He wouldn’t have said he knew every hunter in town, but he knew enough to recognise most, his spider’s web of connections beginning to spread again after his years out of the game. ”Gas station down the road. Tracked the car there, then up to here. He picked a girl up there a couple of days ago, left her lookin’ like that when he dumped her.” Lifting his chin towards the body, he sighed. ”You coulda done a neater job of it … you screwed up your tenses. Didn’t hear him start gabblin’ his way out of there either. You ain’t ever met one of them who still had a touch of magic before?” His tongue clucked, disapproval starting to settle into the lines around his mouth. He’d taught the boys better than that, made sure neither one of them was gonna get played.
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ROXANNE BRASCHI
Chimera
psychic-skinwalker
Posts: 176
Age:
30
Occupation:
Professor at Whitmore College
Status:
In a Relationship
Partner:
Chase Buckley
Played by:
Julia
Last seen May 2, 2024 18:30:46 GMT
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Post by ROXANNE BRASCHI on Jun 9, 2023 18:41:31 GMT
━ i don't know where i'm going, but i sure know where i've been ━ HE SEEMED LIKE A GRUMBLY OLD MAN, THE SORT THAT COMPLAINED when he got off his rocking chair to go crack a few skulls. A badass, grumbly old hunter. If she was right, then she could definitely respect that. Good for him for staying in the game. Roxxi, clearly, had no excuse. It was almost inspirational… if he didn’t end up being kind of an asshole.
Just after mentioning how the demon likely killed him a long time ago, he let out some other shit he thought Roxxi could improve on. Was he taking notes or something? She almost appreciated how much of a hardass he was to some woman he didn’t know━he didn’t go easy on her just because she was a girl━but it wouldn’t stop her from scoffing. Her dad always did say she was too much mouth for her own good, but he’d always been amused by it. She was loud and snippy, but never disrespectful to anyone who hadn’t earned it, and she loved putting in the work to learn more.
Sure, she was out of practice, but her Latin? Fuck him.
Roxxi had gotten to her feet as he spoke about the girl━another victim or the same?━but all thoughts of that were quickly gone, and she was left narrowing her eyes at him. “I miei tempi verbali? La mia grammatica è perfetta, vecchio.”
She didn’t want to admit her mistakes. No, she hadn’t recognized what he was doing as magic━her father wasn’t in the business of killing witches. It was demons, as often as he could manage. He had probably come across ones with magic, but she couldn’t remember getting to that part of her lessons with him.
“I wanted to focus on the exorcism without getting distracted. You tickled him, and I burned him with Holy water. It got done in the end.” Roxxi could hear her dad’s voice in the back of her head━ Stop being so stubborn, stellina; some people can help if you let them. You do not know everything. It didn’t seem like this guy wanted to help so much as tell, but whatever. She huffed out a breath and relented, crossing her arms and frowning at him. “I have been out of practice for a long time, but I think this is quite the accomplishment for my first hunt after my break. What would you have done instead? And, please, try to refrain from being an asshole about it. If you can manage.” She doubted it, but it was worth letting him know how he was being perceived. Something about the man told Roxxi he didn’t really care, though.
BOBBY SINGER | Translation: My tenses? My grammar is perfect, old man. Little star.
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BOBBY SINGER
Hunter
Posts: 108
Played by:
ANGE
Last seen Mar 7, 2024 20:16:43 GMT
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Post by BOBBY SINGER on Jun 25, 2023 18:15:13 GMT
Maybe someone actually in law enforcement would eventually track this poor son of a bitch back to the farmhouse, but by the time they got there even the ashes of the meat suit’s pyre would’ve blown away on the wind. There was no tracking back to find out who they’d been, what sorta life they might’ve had before the smoke poured down their throat. Dozens of lives would’ve been changed in that instant, but there was no changing them back. Thinking you could was the sort of fool’s errand that Bobby had realised he needed to set aside decades ago. The shells that were left after this sorta thing had stopped being people the minute those things had taken over.
Bobby eyed the shell on the floor almost dispassionately, certainly more so than the woman who’d almost bobbled the exorcism. Maybe she’d be kicking herself later, she was certainly more likely to once he’d said his piece about watching what she was doing. It was better that she saw how close she’d been to ending up the same way – or like the girl whose death had led them here in the first place – than blindly believing she’d been on the right path the whole time. She could shoot him sour looks for it all she liked.
His lip curled at the scoff that rolled out of her before she was up on her feet, narrowing those dark eyes at him. He stared back at her blankly, ignoring the heat that spilled out in Italian that was smoother than her Latin had been. ”L'uomo che è abbastanza grande per saperne di più. You coulda just said thanks for savin’ my ass.” Not that she would. Sam and Dean had been no different when he was patching up what education John was giving the two of ‘em. They’d bristle at the correction before pride eventually snapped. This one didn’t look like she’d snap the same way, pride still had her in its rigid grip and it was hard shrugging that off when some old codger had just shambled into your hunt to save your ass from the thing you’d been so sure you’d had. Tickled him? The cackle rolled out of him, tailing off fast. She had used the Holy water in the end, that added distraction preventing that sulphurous bastard from being able to complete his own spell. ”I guess that’s all that matters when your ass is safe,” Bobby drawled sweetly. She’d been lucky that he’d stepped in to make that happen. If he’d spent an extra ten minutes getting here then it already woulda been too late. Ooop, was that a crack appearing in the turtle shell of her pride? Bobby’s smile began to re-emerge, pride tugging at the corners of his mouth as gave a low grunt. That much had been obvious. ”Your first, huh?” He pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth to shove the sarcasm back down his throat. Too much of it and he’d push her right into doing something ridiculous to prove a point when she went out on her second. ”It ain’t a bad try,” Bobby adjusted. How long had the break been? Dean coulda told her that time outs rarely lasted for hunters. Eventually something’d draw ya back in and that re-immersion didn’t always work out when you were rusty.
Lips peeling back as she bitched at him, Bobby sneered. He nudged the brim of his cap up and then offered a hand, the other still dangled the shotgun down the side of his leg. ”I don’t know if that’s possible. Bobby Singer – legendary asshole, paranoid bastard, occasional genius.” The minute he let go of her hand he was gesturing up at his face, index and middle fingers pointing at his eyes before he swivelled them towards the body on the ground. ”I woulda used my eyes. It’s one thing concentratin’ on what you’re doin’ to get it right, but if you’re missin’ what they’re doin’ they’re gonna knock you on your ass every time. You’ve never gone up against one of these things who knew enough magic to get themselves free of a devil’s trap?” Alright, they were rare, but they weren’t unheard of and even if it hadn’t been obvious, the look on the thing’s face would’ve spelt trouble anyhow.
Tagged: ROXANNE BRASCHI * Word Count: 722 Translate: Man who's old enough to know better
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ROXANNE BRASCHI
Chimera
psychic-skinwalker
Posts: 176
Age:
30
Occupation:
Professor at Whitmore College
Status:
In a Relationship
Partner:
Chase Buckley
Played by:
Julia
Last seen May 2, 2024 18:30:46 GMT
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Post by ROXANNE BRASCHI on Jul 11, 2023 18:43:21 GMT
━ i don't know where i'm going, but i sure know where i've been ━ DIO, THE SMUGNESS KNEW NO END WITH THIS MAN, DID IT? He surely thought he knew everything, and, yes, he was old, but that didn’t mean he was the be-all, end-all of hunting knowledge. “Devi rispolverare il tuo italiano.” Still, not bad for a medigan.
“Exactly.” Roxxi said, her lips tense in front of clenched teeth. “Better alive than not, no?” Would he argue otherwise? Because she’d have some things to say about her dead fucking father. Sure, it hadn’t ended up being a perfect exorcism, but they were both alive. She got to go home to Chase, and he… could return to whatever Old Man Hovel he belonged to. Everyone was happy (except they weren’t).
As Roxxi crossed her arms and exhaled, thinking of what advice her dad would’ve given, and finally made some admissions and opened the conversation. As soon as she saw that smile on his face, however, she immediately regretted it. “First in a while.” She reiterated. Not first ever. Sure, it was about twenty years ago, but why did it matter? That was the majority of her special bonding time with her father, of course she would remember it. “Thank you. I know.” Roxxi grumbled, though he seemed to be saying that just to say it, and so she didn’t take the compliment at face value. Fuck him, she would’ve figured it out even if he hadn’t intervened.
Roxxi stepped in and shook his hand, staring him right in the eye━y’know, like a man would. “Roxana Braschi. Do you always introduce yourself so strangely, as though it were scripted?” She raised her brows, and wondered if he would know her name, too. Dean had perked up right away, mentioning that his father had worked with her dad in Italy at some point━and if he didn’t, then she’d know this hunter was full of shit. They were a small bunch, and, yes, she definitely put her dad on a pedestal.
Dio, there he went again with his self-righteous bullshit. He hadn’t managed to not be an asshole for more than a second, but at least he was self-aware. “No, not that I can remember,” She puffed, deciding to ignore his other shit. Roxxi turned and slowly walked back to the body, making a small circle around him, her gaze studying his limp shell. “Do they have to be old━or high on the food chain━to know magic?” Roxxi didn’t think they could━they had their own set of rules and powers entirely━but she wasn’t about to admit that outright. “They shouldn’t be able to use magic from within the Devil’s Trap; that’s just cazzata.” She shook her head, looking up at Bobby as she completed her circle.
“How many have you come across that have that extra ability?” Roxxi asked, her brow furrowed as she considered it. How much of her “education” was still missing?
BOBBY SINGER | Translation: You need to brush up on your Italian. 2. Bullshit.
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BOBBY SINGER
Hunter
Posts: 108
Played by:
ANGE
Last seen Mar 7, 2024 20:16:43 GMT
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Post by BOBBY SINGER on Jul 25, 2023 17:45:13 GMT
Let ‘em see how her Italian was after a handful of years spent bouncing between here, heaven and hell. You got rusty in a lot of damn things – and it gave you an excuse for not being one hundred percent on a hunt, even months after you’d started trying to stretch those muscles again. He’d have asked what her excuse was, but Bobby imagined it would go down about as well as his corrections had. The ‘you’re welcome’ would’ve been too simple, too civil. A faintly sour smile curled at his lips as he brushed off the appraisal of his Italian.
Knowing you needed help in something as simple as an exorcism was gonna burn, just like the holy water had the demon. It wouldn’t kill you though. Bobby grunted, the acceptance rolling both ways. His eyes flicked up to her though. ”Amen,” he muttered dryly in agreement. Unlike her, he knew what it was like when you’d screwed up and you were staring down the barrel of the choice between heaven and hell. It hadn’t been cowardice that’d stopped him from going with the reaper, more that sense that his boys needed him. He’d clung on long before he should’ve done, feeling the anger that would’ve eventually burned away everything he was creeping in. Then hell had got its hands on him.
This wasn’t pay back, but it felt better than it should’ve done to send another one of these sons of bitches right back to where he’d been. It probably wouldn’t inconvenience Lucifer any, but it was one more off the chess board. The smug stayed tugging at his lips – it was too hard to force it away entirely. ”It’s like riding a bike,” Bobby assured her, the verbal version of patting her on the head. ”You don’t forget how – you just wobbled a little.” And had narrowly avoided falling off and scraping her knee. Hell didn’t give you the chance to regain your balance. It took the opportunities it saw and so had he. He wasn’t about to apologise for that.
She hadn’t been sore enough to ignore the hand he’d offered her at least. The woman stared him down as she shook, introducing herself before she tried to take a jab at him. ”Always, ‘specially when I’m … well, fuck…” Braschi? Maybe there was a reason for her acting like she had the balls and the knowledge to take that black eyed son of a bitch down after all.
The smile lost some of its smug edge, the blue eyes narrowing down as the chuckle rolled out of him. ”Do you always wait for someone to recognise the name instead of just sayin’ one of Angelo Braschi’s kids? At least I take it ya are.” And that had all the arrogance draining from him. He could huff and puff about how much of a difference his help had made, but there was more to it than that. ”I was sorry to hear about your pa,” Bobby said gruffly. That had to have made this all the more personal, the near failure all the more of a sting.
Angelo probably would’ve explained what’d gone wrong to her in a far softer tone. He couldn’t entirely help himself though – he had needed to stop the son of a bitch from completing his little spell after all. Bobby took a slow step towards the devil’s trap, bending down beside the body on one creaky knee – even though he knew there’d be no signs left of what the thing in there had been capable of. ”They’ve gotta be skilled when they were alive,” Bobby muttered, looking back up at her. ”If you’ve got that ability and its strong enough, you can carry it with ya after. He was tryin’ to break the trap, one little crack through this and any hold you’ve got on them is gone.”
Bobby reached down, tracing a finger over one of the cracks in the flooring that the demon had managed to open up before he’d put a stop to it. ”Bullshit or not, it’s possible. These things ain’t always playin’ by the same rules.” That was why you had to keep your eyes on what was going on, making sure one of those things wasn’t gonna get the jump on you at the last minute, like the demon had that had killed Angelo. ”Not many,” he admitted, grunting as he pushed to his feet again. ”Usually it takes some real juice. You hear anythin’ ‘bout who’s been in town the last couple of years?” No matter what most hunters thought, Lucifer’s presence made a difference here. The big hitters had been arriving in his wake and that meant you couldn’t take anything about them for granted.
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ROXANNE BRASCHI
Chimera
psychic-skinwalker
Posts: 176
Age:
30
Occupation:
Professor at Whitmore College
Status:
In a Relationship
Partner:
Chase Buckley
Played by:
Julia
Last seen May 2, 2024 18:30:46 GMT
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Post by ROXANNE BRASCHI on Aug 21, 2023 16:52:54 GMT
━ i don't know where i'm going, but i sure know where i've been ━ WOBBLED, HER ASS. SHE WOULD’VE BEEN FINE. ROXXI FROWNED at the old man, but took his hand and introduced herself anyway. Her father had never taught her to be impolite, especially not with other hunters━everyone was a potential ally, though not to be trusted right away. And nobody could know their secret━most hunters didn’t like the idea of working with a werewolf.
It seemed he knew the name. She grinned a little, watching the factoid land in his brain and slowly permeate. His utterance of her dad’s name made her stomach flutter in a way that forced Roxxi to suck in a breath, tears gathering in her eyes momentarily; it was pride. Even in death, he hadn’t been forgotten; the most prominent leader of Aronne’s line in Italy, leading the charge against the demons on behalf of the Pope. She had second and third cousins in Italy who carried on the legacy, but the main group had been somewhat disbanded after Angelo could only produce girls, his brother went to America, and he died. Roxxi would continue with it, though, for him. “Yes,” She nodded, and the smile died at his condolences. Roxxi nodded again, twice, mumbling, “He died protecting us; doing his job━that’s what matters.” But what mattered was he’d left behind eleven little girls who were uprooted and dragged away to join the evil in New Orleans. He’d died in front of her, torn to shreds by a demon who would’ve killed her, too, if her father hadn’t fought so hard to protect her.
“Why come out and say it when, instead, I can test how long you’ve been in the business?” Roxxi’s expression took on another little smirk, one to rival his earlier smug grins.
She went to assess the body anyways━knowing now that this hunter did know what he was talking about━and circled it, standing beside Bobby once she’d gone all the way around. “And that’s only with witches?” Roxxi asked, glancing at Bobby, then back at the shell, now emptied of both its inhabitants. “Will we have alpha werewolf demons running around as well?” The thought of exorcising her uncle was almost too good to ever become a reality.
“They never are.” Roxxi grumbled. Demons━and other creatures━got to do whatever the fuck they wanted, stronger than most hunters (who were usually just humans) and only outmatched when they weren’t thinking fast enough. They had abilities far beyond the ones humans could access, and ripped through everything to do what they wanted, whereas hunters weren’t supposed to wreck anything. Sometimes, they weren’t even supposed to kill the body the demon was in.
At least━according to Bobby━not many of them could do things like that. Roxxi supposed that was a relief, though it was annoying that her first time back had to be one of those. “No,” Roxxi admitted, furrowing her brows at Bobby as he rose up to eye level again. She didn’t want to show her hand too soon━admit that she wasn’t in the loop━but he knew her dad, and he’d already helped her once. “I know there’s another hunter family in town.” A famous one, like hers━though she hadn’t been able to place Dean’s last name as quickly as he had her own. “What━who is it?” Because it sounded important, and she likely wouldn’t hear it from anybody else.
BOBBY SINGER | wrrrrap soon?
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BOBBY SINGER
Hunter
Posts: 108
Played by:
ANGE
Last seen Mar 7, 2024 20:16:43 GMT
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Post by BOBBY SINGER on Oct 8, 2023 19:16:42 GMT
Anyone was capable of having an off day, even the great and wise Bobby Singer. He wouldn’t have admitted it, of course, he was meant to be practically infallible. A daughter of Angelo Braschi probably would’ve been just the same. There were reputations to keep up, especially after generations of hunting. You took pride in it at that point and you sulked a little when that pride got dinged by something you never saw coming. He’d have told her to be glad she was still alive, but he knew that wasn’t gonna go down real well, especially when she’d huffed and puffed at the idea that she hadn’t quite got back square in the saddle again. Telling her to strap on training wheels for a bit woulda just been worse.
Yeah, there was the pride. Bobby saw her start to smile as recognition had dawned on him. Then it cracked and he had to bite down on the apology that came for upsetting her. She still grieved her father and that was proof as to the sort of man Angelo had been. The bad ones weren’t mourned, especially not years after they’d passed. Bobby offered up his condolences – they were different to saying sorry for making someone tear up or pissing them off, and good men deserved those too. ”Couldn’t ask for a better way to go out in our line of work,” he admitted, voice still gruff. He lifted a hand, scrubbing fingers over the rough fabric of his cap. He’d gone out doing the same, saving the boys he called his sons.
”Too long,” Bobby admitted dryly, returning the smirk on her face with a quirk of the corners of his mouth. It could’ve been all over and done with, but he’d come back, hadn’t he? If that didn’t scream sucker for punishment, he didn't know what did. Left to finish what it had been doing, the demon might have managed to put either him or Angelo’s daughter back upstairs (or down, he wasn’t gonna claim he knew what direction the woman would head in). It had gotten too close to cracking straight through the demon trap. ”Far as I know,” Bobby muttered, keeping watch on her more than the body now. Something approaching amusement huffed out of him. ”That happens and we’re gonna have gone beyond the damn apocalypse. Most things like that end up on the other side, out of reach of things like this. Sometimes you get hitchhikers though and there’s sometimes enough juice left in those witch and warlock bodies to wring a little more magic out of ‘’em.” If there was a way to mash demons and anything else powerful together then the Dread Doctors had probably looked to test it out at one time or another. Their failures woulda been a big relief, they had enough other trouble on their hands after all. Anything that twisted their already fucked up world further was another problem for them to deal with. This town already had plenty, but other things kept arriving, stacking up behind the bigger problems like black clouds on the horizon. Bobby grunted low in his throat as he straightened with his knees creaking. One corner of his mouth lifted in a short lived, wry smile. ”I didn’t mean them,” he muttered. ”Although they Winchesters have tangled with ‘em plenty. Lucifer himself, and his little yellow-eyed lapdog got free. So, next time you go tryin’ to deal with a demon problem, make sure you know who you’re goin’ up against.”
Digging into his pocket, Bobby pulled out a worn business card with nothing but his name and number on it. He held it out to her between two fingers, that same tired smirk back on his face. ”You want a hand in rememberin’ how to ride that bike … or you find yourself in over your head with somethin’, just call.” It’d save one hell of an ‘I told you so’ if he had to stumble on her putting a foot wrong again. ”I’ll let you handle the clean up … bad knees and all.” He stooped to pick up his shotgun again though, already moving back towards the door.
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