Welcome to SU: Legacy, a next-gen Supernatural RP that takes place in the year 2040. The Men of Letters has expanded to include three base locations across the continental US. Angels and demons have gone mostly dormant but there are still supernatural evils lurking in the shadows. The legacies could use your help. Are you in?
Giving credit where credit is due. A big thank you to all the coders at PBS and various resource sites for any codes, plug-ins and templates.
Thanks to Nick @ Fidelius for the fabulous mini-profile. Everything else was created by our own staff. If we missed someone please let us know.
We don't own Supernatural, we just enjoy it's awesomeness. Thanks Eric Kripke for creating it, all the writers/producers for putting out a great show and the CW for keeping it on the air for almost 10 years now!
Lucas turned his head towards Dean on instinct and found the man waving at him, making some weird signs mid-air. For a split second he even thought that Dean had given him the bird before he recalled that the gun-wielding-lunatic was probably trying to warn him of danger. Once again feeling annoyed at the man Lucas did the only thing he could do. He hid in the closet. Now as he sat or rather was squatting under the smelly jackets and coats that no gang-banger would wear dead, and considering that they were vamps he had a point, two things occurred to him. Ray and company had been doing this for a while; this place was virtually perfect for kidnapping and killing their victims. That was truly horrible. His second realization while slightly trivial was no less important – God hated him, there was no other explanation for this. Here he was in a vampire infested building and he was hiding in a closet. In other words if the vamps didn’t kill him then the irony certainly would.
He remained there for what seemed half an eternity, clutching Winchesters gun, before he heard two pairs of footsteps climb the stairs. Since he had halfway closed the door he couldn’t see what was happening. Then he heard somebody walking again. He leaned slightly forward as he looked through the miniscule crack that remained. A leather jacket coupled with a pair of jeans came into view that looked vaguely familiar. Wait wasn’t Dean wearing something like that? With the gun firmly in his grip he pushed the door a tad more ajar and was looking at Dean’s back, recognizing the vampire hunter wasn’t that hard considering that he had spent back-to-back with him for the last half an hour. That and Dean had just uttered his name. He gave a silent sigh as he pushed the door open completely this time around. “You mind helping me out?” he said silently as possible as he climbed out the piece of furniture.
A moment later and he was once again on his feet. “The good news…” he whispered as he tried to work out a kink in his back “…is I found something to fight with” he explained as he handed Dean his gun back. “Also there’s a lot of stuff in there” he gestured at the various knives, guns and other projectile weapons he had pushed aside to make room for himself. Quite frankly the image reminded him slightly of Winchesters car. “You know these guys have more weapons then you and I’m counting your trunk too” he added as an afterthought. For a moment he glanced back at the stairs, thinking if it were possible to block them from coming back. Not coming up with anything he turned back at Dean “Now what?” he asked in hushed tones. “Should we go to viewing room or the locked storage?” he asked inquiring about their next course of action.
“The viewing room is down the hall through the double doors” he explained as he started to walk in the direction Dean had just arrived moments ago. “The storage is behind the counter with the…” he stared at the bloody garments and accessories that lay littered around the place “…with the bloody stuff” he said still surprised to be taken aback. How long was this going on? He knew from the street that Ray and his crew weren’t to be messed with, but this was…beyond words. Who knew how long the bastard was doing this, a decade a century, perhaps two? He felt his stomach form a tight knot.
Post by ZZZ - Dean - RETIRED on Nov 16, 2010 13:14:03 GMT -8
“You mind helping me out?”
“Are you seriously asking me to help you come out of the closet?” Dean replied, his stony faced expression hiding the sarcasm that seemed to cling to his words. He stared blankly at the squashed up kid for a second, half debating to lock him in the damn thing so he couldn’t get into any more trouble, until he realised what he was holding. Dean’s Colt was like an ivory handled beacon of hope in sweaty hands, how could he not help the guy out when he’d found it for him? Quite easily was the answer, but he did so anyway, finding a treasure trove of his and a few other weapons in the hidey hole in the process.
“You know these guys have more weapons then you and I’m counting your trunk too”
“You looked in my trunk?” Suddenly stopping mid task of checking whether or not his gun was still loaded, Dean’s patented ‘you did what?!’ glare slipped effortlessly into place. Having someone rummaging around in his most private sanctum felt like a violation. There weren’t many things he held dear in his life, but what little he had tended to get stashed in the false bottom of the Impala’s trunk. Kind of like having a four wheeled safe with you at all times.
“If there’s anything missing when I get it back…” He left the threat unfinished, mostly because they didn’t have time and his priorities had shifted from his car to people’s lives, but he figured Lucas was smart enough to fill in the blanks without the need for vivid detail about which limbs he was going to pull off first should there be a single thing out of place.
“Now what? Should we go to viewing room or the locked storage?”
Decisions, decisions. And only a split second to make them in. Dean tooled himself up with whatever weapons he could carry, handing over a decent sized knife to Lucas so he could protect himself if need be. Dean kept his gun handy, but it was pretty much useless against vampires, unless…
“The viewing room is down the hall through the double doors. The storage is behind the counter with the…with the bloody stuff”
Dean followed the kid’s eyes to the pile of blood stained clothes, an ingenious idea formulating in his brain. All those years of watching MacGuyver as a kid may well be about to pay off.
“Storage room.” He declared, heading back around the counter he’d been hiding behind earlier, this time stopping to examine some of the items left to fester on the counter top. After a short moment of searching, he pulled out a shirt from nearer the top of the pile, one that was almost completely covered in dark red stains, but that also hadn't been there so long it was stiff as a board. It was perfect for what Dean needed it for.
With no particular regard for how gross it was to be handling a gore covered item of clothing that had probably been torn from a corpse, Dean tucked it under his arm and carried on towards the locked storage room, his stomach filling with dread over what he might find inside.
Sure enough, the door was secured good and proper with a rather large padlock on the outside. The easiest and quickest way to open it would have been to take aim and shoot, but that would have also been the easiest and quickest way to attract the attention of a nest full of vampires and since Lucas had been nosey enough to find his lock pick for him again, it was the old fashioned way he chose.
Twenty seconds later and the lock was off, abandoned on the floor as Dean cautiously opened the door a crack. The stench from inside hit him like a freight train and he was glad to have the wet cloth over his face to smother the smell. He knew it instantly and the likelihood of finding anything good to go with it rapidly fell to zero.
Stifling the urge to gag, Dean toed open the door further, his gun aimed at the ready should anyone, or anything come flying out at them. The room was in darkness but after a quick fumble along the wall, he was able to find the lightswitch. As soon as he flicked it on though, he really wished things could have stayed hidden by darkness.
“Jesus…” He whispered to himself upon seeing stacks of pale, lifeless bodies piled high in one corner of the room where once bags of popcorn might have been stored. Every single one of them appeared to have been drained completely of all blood, the bodies taking on an eerie pallor like ghosts.
If he was shocked by the sight, he hated to think what Lucas’s reaction was. A quick glance to his side answered that question and that feeling of pity for the guy sprang up in his chest again. But, there was no time for sympathy or emotion and Dean channelled his father when he spoke to the kid again.
“You need to see if any of those is Mouse.” He said, keeping himself detached from the possibility that the guy they were trying to save might already be a yesterday’s leftovers.
While Lucas took on the grim task of looking for his buddy, Dean took the bloody shirt he’d procured and spread it out on the floor as he crouched by the door. Removing the wet cloth from around his face, he twisted it up and wrung as much water out of it as possible, letting the drops fall onto the darkest patches of red on the material where the old blood was still tacky. As that soaked in and moistened the blood, Dean unclipped the magazine from his gun again and began popping out the bullets one by one, dipping the tips of each in the sticky blood until he was satisfied it was coated in the stuff.
They may not have had machete’s, but a little dead man’s blood on a bullet would buy them time enough to hack off a vampire’s head with a smaller hunting knife.
With an exasperated look on his face, Lucas handed Dean back the fake ID’s and half empty condom box. Knowing the ass he could be, he thought it would be better to get it out of the way now rather than later. Especially considering the quickly forming frown on the man’s face and the half baked threat that was thrown his way, some people simply had no priorities. Not that he would be bothered with this line of thought as he waited for Dean to pick the lock to the storage “You do know that I could do that? You know faster than you” he commented in hushed voices as he kept a look out on the stairs and other possible access points. Actually Lucas had no idea how fast Dean could pick locks but he was doing it since he was twelve and that made him something of an expert. He turned automatically as the stench reached him. It smelled as if something had died and something probably had.
“Jesus…” he heard Dean utter as he followed him inside, taking in the sight of the slaughter. Several dozens of corpses were stacked on the far side of the room, in the corner, like some sick twisted game of pyramid. For a moment he recalled the images of Concentration Camps in Germany, the pictures and images that were often shown in documentaries, the sight being eerily same. He felt his stomach drop hitting his knees, feeling sick all of the sudden. Lucas blinked away a pair of tears that sprung up as the realization what the stench was got to him. Luckily Dean’s back was turned to him otherwise the guy would never let him live it down. “You need to see if any of those guys is Mouse” he heard Dean, as his knees refused to move in any direction that wasn’t back. Not that it would matter he could see Mouse right there where he was standing.
Pale and scrawny just as in life, Mouse’s body was discarded on the floor next to the pile of flesh that once had been people. He wasn’t quite sure what had happened but he felt something break inside of him. Mouse was dead. Was that something new? Not really, everybody around him died it was only a matter of how. Heck his whole home town was reduced to rubble and ash. Lucas didn’t notice it but he had actually walked right up to Mouse, a stramge numbness having taken hold of him, Mouse's head was crooked in a weird angle, his hair all messy and tangled up. He crouched down, and gently moved some of the hair out of Mouse’s face, his friends eyes were staring at him. Something was wrong with his eyes; they had always been a deep shade of blue, vivid, alive now they looked pale.
“Hey you” he whispered his voice oddly monotone, as if he were reading a line from a text book or something. He closed Mouse’s eyes, now he looked as if he had just fallen asleep. For a moment Lucas expected him to jump and say that he got him. For a whole moment Mouse had been alive in his mind once more. Then he stood up and turned his back to the corpses and to Mouse. “How do you kill vampires?” he asked serenely.
Post by ZZZ - Dean - RETIRED on Nov 27, 2010 9:21:22 GMT -8
Clipping the bullets now smeared with dead man’s blood back into the magazine of his gun, Dean spared a glance across at his unwilling sidekick, feeling a pang of empathy when it appeared that Mouse was indeed one of the victims piled up like rag dolls. He couldn’t see Luke’s face, but from the slumped shoulders of his back and the almost tender way he reached forward to close the unseeing eyes on the body he was crouched in front of, Dean could see the grief plain as day.
Somehow Dean felt responsible, as though it was his fault for not figuring out there was a nest of vampires in town sooner. He’d tracked their cousin’s down but had sloppily allowed one to escape and get back to this gang. Their murderous rampage might have been a reaction to Dean killing their kind, though he knew deep down they were just monsters anyway and killing people was what they did. He had no responsibility for Mouse being an innocent victim any more than Luke did, yet that didn’t stop him from wanting to make sure these bastards didn’t hurt anyone else.
“That him?” He asked respectfully when the kid finally stood up again. A verbal answer wasn’t necessary, Dean could see it in his eyes. He knew what it was like to lose a friend.
“How do you kill vampires?”
Luke wanted revenge, that much was evident and who was Dean to stop him from getting it.
“By cutting off their head.” Bending down to pick up the damp, bloody shirt he’d been using to coat his bullets, he handed it over and nodded towards the kid’s knife.
“Dead man’s blood. It’s like poison to them. Rub some on your blade and if you can get it in their system it’ll weaken ‘em enough for you to do what you gotta do.”
Revenge was one thing, but survival was another. He held out a hand and barred Luke from rushing into doing anything stupid. That was something else he had experience in.
“You can’t avenge him if you’re dead though. We play this smart or not at all, you got me?”
“Yeah, I got you” Lucas replied, his feeling of grief being laced with silliness since he felt as if he was talking in some eighties police drama. As for weapons, he decided that the closest thing to that was his belt-knife. With his back firmly turned to the heap of bodies that were once human, he took his rag and whipped the floor with it. The crusty, brown smear didn’t change color nor did it seem to change in any particular way. He squeezed the cloth, causing the remnants of water to drip down. Soon his belt-knifes silvery surface was covered in a rusty hue. Lucas didn’t bother brandishing it around quite the opposite actually, he pocketed the mini-blade. With a small knife that size, one couldn’t risk brandishing it about, chances were somebody would knock it out of your hand. No, he would keep the knife aside for the right moment. That however still left the psychic only with the knife that Dean handed him, which while too was now looking rusty, from the blood, was a weapon he wasn't exactly used to.
“Great so what’s the plan?” He asked, Lucas wasn’t the professional vampire hunter. And when you had an expert in the room, the smartest you could do, was listen to him. Even if the said expert grated Lucas’s nerves. Quite frankly he had been expecting a sly comment or a jest at his or Mousses expense. The fact that he didn’t receive one did take him slightly by surprise. Perhaps the gun-wielding idiot wasn’t such an idiot after all?
Well he would have to wonder about later as a set of footsteps hurried down the hall, followed by a loud shriek. Luke couldn’t help himself, nor did he have time to do anything else, but when he looked up he saw a large human male form running into the main theater hall. Also the guy was completely set aflame, burning, like something out of a circus. Another set of footprints followed the fire guy. Lucas took a step back. This time around the guy stopped mid-sprint, probably seeing the doors to the storage open. Luke took a quick glance at Winchester, hoping for a quick tip or some sign what to do. The footsteps took the form of a tall and burly build guy, who managed to easily eclipse the exit out of the storage with his size.
Post by ZZZ - Dean - RETIRED on Dec 5, 2010 8:08:23 GMT -8
“The plan is…”
Suddenly seeing a man on fire, running past you screaming like a banshee wasn’t something you saw everyday. Even when you dealt with as much weird as Dean did. So it was understandable that he completely lost track of what it was he had been about to say as he blinked several times in the direction of the doorway. A doorway that was then suddenly filled with a very large vampire. Dean thought he looked like a less well groomed version of The Rock. With fangs.
“Ah, shit.” Dean cursed to himself, backing up as the two of them were now trapped in a small room without any exit save for the one behind the pissed off bloodsucker coming towards them. There were two options available. One, die horribly at the hands of said suck head, which was a plan Dean didn’t have a lot of love for. Or two, he could shoot the bastard with the dead man’s bullets, which would then weaken the beast enough for them to over power it’s supernatural strength giving them time to hack off it’s head.
There was a tiny drawback to that though, in that a gun shot would definitely attract the attention of the rest of the pack. All except for the one guy who was currently on fire. He probably had other things to worry about right now.
“There you are.” The vampire growled at them both, evidently annoyed that they had managed to escape, but quietly pleased that he now had an excuse to just kill them both and be done with it.
“Gonna enjoy sinking my teeth into you, Hunter.”
“In your dreams, Twilight.” Without hesitation, Dean took aim and fired one shot directly into the vampires heart, wincing at the loud sound of gunfire in the confined quarters of the storage room. The Rock just laughed at him, barely even acknowledging the wound.
“Didn’t get the memo? Guns don’t work on vampires, moron.” Without warning, he lunged straight for Dean, sharp fangs bared and temper high, ignoring a second shot fired into his chest at point blank range. As Dean was unceremoniously tossed roughly into the pile of rotten corpses at the back of the room, the gun clattered from his grip and a sudden panic that there hadn’t been enough dead man’s blood on the bullets gripped him. That wasn’t the only thing to grip him either as one huge, meaty hand took up residence around his throat while a second, brick like fist pounded into his face several times.
Despite the dancing stars in his vision, and the unforgiving smell of death right behind him, Dean swung back with as much strength as he possessed, struggling weakly to free the hand cutting off his oxygen supply. Miraculously the dead man’s blood must have been having some effect because the grip gradually loosened enough to breathe and a confused expression spread over The Rock’s face.
“Dead man’s blood, bitch.” Dean managed to wheeze out, his smugness quickly returning to panic again when vampire teeth hungrily headed for his jugular. Still unable to get away from the weight holding him in place, all Dean could do was squeeze his eyes shut and brace for the pain of being bitten.