six_word_stories | (no subject)

[ Doesn't flinch until his surname, gaze dropping, considering, evidently lacking in knowledge and admittedly pressured by how poorly this plan's developing. In this world, magic is exclusive, hoarded by few and feared, occasionally admired by the majority, and that's... simply not familiar. It's possible his understanding of the supernatural is polar opposite of this reality, and that is intimidating on the spot, but he cements that unnerve, taking a moment to wet his lips. ]

Information. About alternate worlds. I've been to several. I --wouldn't be able to offer much within this universe.

If that's not enough, I could run errands. Busywork. If you're as powerful as you claim, this isn't a strain on you. I'll find... ingredients. Run messages. You know me, somehow, so you know I'm solid on my word. Powerful or not, there are things I could do as someone beneath the radar.

[She listens as he rambles, as it can't be called anything else. A hand resting against her cheek. She decides to let him sweat it out, as well he should.

But she merely lets her hand fall. She has something a bit crueler in mind.]

Tell me, Winchester, what are you really willing to do to go home? A few errands? Run messages? Busywork? Is that the price of your freedom from this world? Well then, if that is all you can think of, I am not impressed. And I am not moved.

But... I bear no ill will. I will even give you a chance to show how much going home actually means to you.

[ The waiting game.

Classic dick move.

Under simpler conditions, patience wouldn't be first instinct, but he holds his tongue through her silence, then the aloof picking-apart and total dismissal of his offerings. Upside: She's humoring him. It's not a lost cause... which is a relief since killing the most powerful creature in this world strikes him a touch suicidal-- nonetheless, historically Winchester Plan B.

A muscle in his jaw ticks, unsure, fleetingly hopeful. Sam reigns it back as quickly as it flares. ]

That's pretty generous. [ Brows drawn in open question. ] I appreciate the opportunity, but I'd wonder how its even possible to 'show'. Say I made a case for why it's so important, not only to me but close friends, family, the world, I don't know whether it would mean anything to you. With all due respect.

[She watches him and smiles with ease.]

Now now, no need to be so forlorn, Winchester.

Errands and messages are easy, sending you home, even with all my power will not be. So show me what going home means to you.

Kill someone for me. Three someones. With all your knowledge, the death of three fairies should be trivial, and you will bring me their wands as proof.

[ In a single exhale his lungs deflate, shoulders dipping and forcefully averting his gaze to disguise the sour quirk to his expression. ]

Of course that's where this was going. [ Voice soft and low. ] --Sorry. Like I said, I know a bit about this tale. The fairies you want me to kill, they're not hurting anyone, or am is there something the left out?

[ Doubtful, probably rhetorical. Sam meets her gaze anew and spreads his hands in mockery of a helpless gesture. ]

I'm not a mercenary. I'm a hunter. --You're saying that's the only way?

Edited 2017-09-28 00:19 (UTC)

Did you expect anything less from me? If you did, you did not know this tale well enough.

No, they're not hurting anyone, but they have stood in my way too often.

The only way to prove you have any care about going home. What is a faerie to you, Winhester? You've decimated monsters, fae, witches, spirits, and everything in between. Tell me, how often did you pause to question their motives?