Working Class Heroes [SIGN UP]

[Deleted]

The Roadhouse was stiflingly hot. At least, Ellen thought so. Of course it was possible she was just sweating her ass off running around the place trying to prepare for quite possibly the biggest meeting the place had ever seen.

Ellen set a case of beer on top of the bar and started unloading bottles into the fridge. Two more cases sat on the floor behind the bar, ready to be loaded into the fridge as soon as there was room. She'd closed the saloon early tonight, hurrying people out at 9 pm. Any employees that weren't fellow hunters had been sent home early. There had been a lot of bitching and complaining from the civilian patrons, but that was the least of Ellen's concerns. The end of the world was hard on their heels, and she needed to get all the fighting men and women she knew together and formulate some kind of a strategy.

She'd arranged several tables with the help of a few lingering patrons, creating one large table in the middle of the room surrounded by chairs. A few other tables that were round or taller than the main tables stood in various places around the makeshift larger table, still in hearing distance. And or course there were seats at the bar.

A beer bottle slipped out of Ellen's hand as she went to take it out of the case. It crashed to the floor and broke, spilling beer all over.

"Son of a bitch," Ellen muttered.

She grabbed a few rags off the counter and crouched down to pick up the bulk of the glass and wipe up most of the spill. Someone turned on the jukebox, blasting "Who Will Save Your Soul" by Jewel. She didn't mind it, but she could think of at least ten hunters present who'd be scowling at the song choice right about now. She shook her head and tossed a handful of glass into a trash bin. She draped the rag over the smaller shards of glass and scooped them up, tossing the rag and all into the bin. There was still a little bit of beer on the floor, but she'd worry about that later. She needed to finish what she was doing and get everything situated. She was still waiting on a few arrivals before she rounded everyone up, but she wasn't going to wait much longer.

She felt some moisture on her hand and wiped it on her jeans, thinking it was some stray beer until a jolt of pain went through her palm.

"Ah!"

She sucked air through her teeth and examined her hand, realizing she'd sliced her palm. It must've been the glass.

"Great," she muttered.

Ellen looked around at the crowd she had to work with and waved her uninjured hand to catch the attention of one of the guests.

"Hey, could you come over here a minute?" she called.

She needed someone to finish putting the beer in the fridge while she patched up her hand.

((OOC: This is an opening thread for a boardwide seal plot. If you've signed up for it already feel free to reply!))

[Deleted]

Ryanne Benedict

She zipped up her duffel bag and gave one last sweep of the room before she swung it onto her shoulder and left the room. Once she reached the main office, she handed her key back and paid in cash. One night in a semi-decent motel before she hit the road usually gave Ryanne a feeling of a fresh start, new beginnings. This time it was just a sense of foreboding.

"Enjoy your stay?"

The huntress looked up and gave the spotty teenager a small smile, "Yes sweetheart, I did." She threw him a wink over her shoulder and made her way out into the morning sun, helmet under one arm, her duffel on another. Ry pushed through the door and stood just outside of the door and stared at her bike, her baby. She'd had it for so long, that it was like a second limb and because times had changed, she didn't know how long she would be riding it for.

With no recollection of moving or even stopping, she found herself standing beside it. Ry shoved her helmet on her head and made quick work of fastening her bag to the back of her bike. She quickly mounted it and peeled out of the motel car park, navigating her way to Harvelle's roadhouse. Without a doubt she knew it was going to be a long day ahead of her.

***

The journey was fairly smooth and quite pleasant considering the circumstances she was about to enter. Her plan was to ride straight through but her stomach and thought processes had other ideas and so she stopped once for food and once again to purchase a couple of bottles of Jack.

It wasn't long after that last stop that Ryanne saw the turning for the roadhouse and took the corner quite sharply. Her bike rumbled loudly as she slowed to a stop in front of the building. She sat for a while with the engine running as she took off her helmet and wiped the small amount of sweat that had gathered on her forehead. They could possibly be one of the last moments she would have with her Harley and she wanted to cherish them.

It must have only been a couple of minutes but the huntress cut the engine, took her keys and shoved them in her jacket pocket and grabbed her bag and made her way to the door. She stood outside just looking at it and let out a sigh. "Well, here it goes." With one last glance back to her bike, she strolled through the door and entered the roadhouse.

With stealth that would make a ninja jealous, she made her way to a stool at the bar and looked at the many crates of beer and then around at the grumpy looking, scarred hunters.

"Hey, could you come over here a minute?"

Ry looked up at the voice and then around the bar to see if anyone was going to answer. When she saw that they weren't going to move, she left her bag on the stool next to hers and made her way over, "You alright, love? Do you need a hand with something?" She quickly realised she hadn't given her name and wasn't very respectful and quickly stuck her hand out. "I'm Ryanne." Hopefully, the lady would forget about being called 'love'.

[Deleted]

Dust swirled up around Blue as Sully pulled into the parking lot of the Roadhouse. The old truck coughed and mewled in protest from the long journey. Cutting the engine Sully grabbed her bag, got out of the truck, and wandered towards the door.

The Roadhouse wasn't a secret to most hunters, but Sully had never found herself at it's doorstep before. She had always been more of a lone hunter, only relying on herself. Congregating with other hunters in a bar had never been something that even crossed Sully's mind. She had always been better on her own.

Recent events had changed her mind about that though. Besides, this wasn't some random hunt about vampires or demons. They were all meeting up to find a way to keep the seals from breaking. Sully wasn't at the top of her game, but even if she was, this was something she wouldn't be able to do on her own. This was going to take every able body they had.

Sully pulled a long sleeve shirt out of the bag and put it on over her tanktop. On one shoulder the scars were faded, on the other they were still dark and mishapen. She wasn't in the mood for questions. Besides, the extra shirt made it harder to tell that she was slightly under weight. She wasn't about to get stuck with a desk job so to speak, because people thought she wasn't up to par.

With a grunt she rolled her shoulder and picked up her bag, wandering inside. She took a seat at the bar, placing the bag on the old wood. There was a gun in the small of her back in case, but from what she understood about the Roadhouse, that wouldn't be a problem here.

She raised a brow when the woman behind the bar dropped the beer and sliced her hand open. It looked like a nasty gash, but Sully kept her mouth shut as the other woman spoke with her. Somehow she didn't think using her mojo in a bar full of hunters would gage a good reaction from them.

Running her hand through her newly shortened hair, Sully looked at Ellen. "You all right?" She nodded to her hand. "That looks a might nasty." She didn't offer to help patch it up. Just making a statement as she put some cash on the bar and reached over to grab a beer since Ellen was indisposed at the moment.

[Deleted]

A white Ford truck pulled up outside the roadhouse. The driver put it into park and killed the engine, but stayed inside for a few moments. Kit looked through the windshield at the building, watching the people inside. They seemed, if though a lot rough around the edges, to be a good bunch. Hunters, mostly, who spent their lives tracking down monsters and demons and sending their asses straight to hell, literally. In her mind, that was a great thing, minus one small detail. Everyone inside would most likely want to kill her if they learned of what she was.

Kit was a werewolf, and had been since she was six years old. Over the years, and with her father's help, she had learned to control her animal urges and instincts. She no longer phased with the full moon and blood didn't bother her. She spent the majority of her life trying to help others. She was as evil as a giant teddy bear, and no, not That giant teddy bear. She was a nurse at a hospital in Los Angeles, California. Even though she was what she was, didn't mean she would do anything less to put the true evils of the world six feet under.

With a sigh, she exited the truck. She was dressed in a pair of cut off blue jeans and a simple red tee. Her hair was long and dark, hanging freely around her shoulders. She wore a pair of flip flops, red to match her shirt, and a white gold chain around her neck. She carried a bag over her shoulder containing a change of clothing, an extra pair of shoes, some bottles of water and snacks, and a large first aid kit.

She heard a bottle breaking inside and raised her eyebrow, making her way to the entrance. Pushing the door open, she stepped inside, the smell of blood and beer filling her nose. She snorted the smell away and glanced around, noting the woman behind the bar waving a bloodied hand. She gave the room a nervous once over before heading for the bar. With a smile, she leaned against the edge of the bar and said, "Hiya, I'm Kit. Looks like a pretty good cut you got there. I can take a look at that for you, I'm a nurse."

[Wil Marsh]

Greg was no stranger to The Roadhouse. He'd stumbled across it in his early days as a hunter and dropped in once in a while for information. The last time he'd been to The Roadhouse he'd gotten a file from Ellen on a case in Louisiana. In pursuing that case he'd run into Ellen's daughter, Jo, and they'd ended up hunting down and killing some crazy witch. Figuring any case Ellen had to offer was out of his league, Greg hadn't been back to The Roadhouse since.

There were already several vehicles in the parking lot when Greg parked his Jeep. Christ, I hope I'm not late, he thought. He didn't know Ellen very well, but he knew she was a no-nonsense kind of lady. He sure as hell didn't want to piss her off. He wondered if she knew he'd been hanging around with her daughter a lot. Jo had said she and Ellen were kind of estranged or something, but that didn't necessarily mean they didn't talk at all, right?

It wasn't like anything had happened with Jo. They were just friends... except they did play strip poker once. But friends did things like that, didn't they? He could claim that was innocent and be justified, if Ellen even knew about it.

Greg rolled his eyes at his own nervousness and got out of the Jeep, slamming the door shut and heading inside. He didn't come in with any supplies. He had some stuff in bags in his car, but he figured they wouldn't be doing any actual hunting in the tavern. He was wearing worn jeans that were ripped at the knees, a plain black t-shirt and a black hooded sweatshirt over it. He was wearing a black beanie hat on his head and a bowie knife in a case hooked onto the front waistband of his jeans.

He walked in and looked around at everyone who was already there. Ellen was behind the bar and there were a few women gathered around her. Two of them seemed concerned and the other one was just hanging out drinking a beer. There was a long makeshift table set up. Greg took a seat at one of the stray tables, figuring he'd just hang back for a while.

[ZZZ - Dean - RETIRED]

As hunts went, the one Sam and Dean had just come from fell less into the category of ‘not going so well’ and more in the ‘total clusterfuck‘ pile. It had started out like any other hunt, mysterious deaths in the local papers snagging their interest but it was only after a little digging around that they realised perhaps it wasn’t just any other hunt. In fact, it was looking more and more likely that they’d stumbled upon demons trying to break a seal using first born sons, virgins and gallons of goat‘s blood in a ritual Dean didn‘t want to think about ever again.

Vital information came too little, too late and despite their best efforts, the seal broke anyway. Every one of the people that they’d tried to save ended up dead and Dean nearly joined them. It was only because of Castiel that they’d gotten out alive, or at least that was the story Sam was telling him.

During the melee, he’d gotten separated from his brother, cornered by a tag team of demons that decided he would make a good human sacrifice, especially since he was a first born son too, so they’d ganged up on him and had beaten him into submission on the floor before grabbing him by the throat and mercilessly holding him up against a wall by his neck until he’d passed out. When he came to, the demons were all gone and Sam was dragging him out of the building. In Sam’s words, Castiel had intervened, just not in time to actually be of use. Dean was too dazed to question why the angel had disappeared without saying a word afterwards. It wasn’t that unusual for Cas to split without warning, he was an angel after all and they had poor social skills. No doubt he was pissed that Dean had failed yet again to save a seal. He had to wonder why Cas thought he was the guy for the job anyway, all he'd done was keep messing things up. If it hadn't been for him, then the first seal wouldn't have even been broken in the first place.

One useful thing that had come out of the whole mess was they knew now how many seals were left before Lucifer would be broken free of his prison in Hell. Disturbingly, it wasn’t even double figures. Six. Just six left. Sixty had fallen and it was only a matter of time before these last few would go too. It was too much for them to deal with on their own, they needed help and Dean knew the best person to ask.

Ellen had once offered them both a safe place to stay should they ever be in need of a roof over their heads and right now, Dean was grateful that she had. The hunt had taken its toll on the pair of them and he didn’t have the energy to drive out to a nameless motel when the Roadhouse was within easy reach. Considering that he and Sam both had too much blood on their clothes and too many bruises on their faces to really find a room elsewhere without any awkward questions, it was a no brainer.

He’d left it to Sam to explain the details of why they were showing up at four in the morning looking like death warmed over, mostly because his throat was so swollen and bruised from the abuse of a very grabby demon that it hurt to talk. All he wanted was something cold and soothing to drink and to sleep off the depression that had hit him like a slab of concrete. Losing was one thing, losing innocent people was just unacceptable. He’d told Sam once before that you couldn’t save everyone, but now, more than ever, he’d set his heart on trying to do just that. It was impossible he knew, there was no deluding himself that he could be Superman up against greater numbers and superior strength, but he’d never stop trying.

It wasn’t hard for him to sleep when he finally collapsed into bed, but getting rest, well that was another matter. He and Sam had taken the room that would have been Ash’s once over, tucked away in the back of the Roadhouse, away from the noise of the bar. This room didn’t have a sign on the door though, no information on whether Dr. Badass was in or not. Shame really, Dean had liked the mullet haired genius, he hadn’t deserved to die the way he had.

More than once Dean woke up at the tail end of a nightmare, wincing at the flare of pain in his neck when he jerked roughly awake. All the other bruises and scrapes on his body he could ignore, even the two broken fingers on his left hand that were taped up to the middle one were easy to forget about, but his throat felt like someone had rubbed it down, inside and out, with sandpaper. Every time he swallowed it made him grimace and talking was a lesson in torture he might have given down in Hell.

On closer inspection in the guest bathroom, Dean could see the distinct shape of a handprint the colour of dark purple bruises, wrapped around his neck. Two more prominent black spots adorned either side of his Adam’s apple where a thumb and a forefinger had been jabbed deeply into his flesh, holding him up in the air like some kind of rag doll. No wonder his throat hurt. At least now he had an excuse to eat ice cream.

The sound of breaking glass snared Dean from his inspection and he quickly finished getting dressed after showering away the grime from the night before so he could go find out what the cause was. On his way out, he stopped by Sam’s bed to nudge him awake rather than calling his name, pulling on a clean shirt as he went. When Sam looked his way, he silently nodded towards the front of house, wordlessly communicating with his brother that he was going to check out what was going on out front. Ellen has said she was going to make a few calls, but Dean wasn’t prepared for the number of familiar and not so familiar faces he found in the Roadhouse when he stepped through the door to the bar.

The first person he saw was Ellen, but it was the guy taking a seat at one of the tables that really caught his attention. He hadn’t seen Greg Marsh for months and to be honest, they hadn’t really got on that well then. Call it too very similar guys butting heads over a woman. A woman who was once Greg's and was sort of Dean’s girlfriend now, though Dean was working so hard of late he barely got chance to see her.

While Sam had been filling Ellen in on the seals the night before, Dean had taken a moment to find his phone and send Li a message to let her know he was thinking about her, that he was okay and how he and Sam were stopping at Ellen’s for the night. Initially he wanted to call her, to hear her voice on the other end of the line, but it would have been unlikely she would make out what he was saying with his paper thin voice and that would have only caused her to worry more, so he stuck with texting.

“Greg?” Dean grated out on a whisper, cringing at the sound as he moved closer to the tables, too stunned about seeing one old acquaintance that he didn’t notice the other sat with her back to him at the bar.

[ZZZ - R.I.P. - Ren Mercer]

She pulled up outside the Roadhouse, killing the engine in Shelby and giving it a good look over. Honestly, since the day she met Bobby, she thought that she might be a little bit insane. She was now, officially, living a Carver Edlund book, and it was really weird. Making a mental note to keep her mouth shut, no matter who was behind those doors, she hopped out of the jeep, holding the door open for Hunter to follow. She didn’t bother attaching his nice search and rescue vest on, or even a leash, she was going to meet other hunters and the dog should be welcomed into the fold like one of them.

As she walked up to the Roadhouse she paused a moment, scanning the parking lot for Bobby or his car. He had called her and told her to meet him here. She hoped he wouldn’t mind if she waited inside for him, wanting to see if the inside from the book were like she pictured them, not to mention who else might be behind those doors. She moved to the doorway, hesitating a moment, before pushing the door open and stepping inside, Hunter following along beside her.

After stepping inside she lingered in the doorway, slowly looking around the place, it was just how the book described it as, maybe she was finally loosing her mind? She probably lost it somewhere between werewolf attack and cutting a vampire’s head off. Did normal people even think this stuff, she wasn’t sure anymore.

Then the music hit her, she smiled brightly, loving Jewel honestly. She hummed along with the song, maybe skipping a little as she made her way up to the bar, beer on her mind. At the bar, before ordering, she looked out at those gathered, looking for any familiar faces. Her eyes rested on Greg, a smile brightening her face when she saw him, giving him a wave. At least she knew one person here and Bobby would be along as well, that was two. Finally, she’d get to really meet other hunters and maybe exchange numbers like she always wanted to do, you know, people to call on when you were in an abandoned warehouse, surrounded by death, needing back up. Maybe they could use a slightly awkward, somewhat new hunter with a poochie partner too? Wait, did we just move Edlund into Scooby Doo?

[Deleted]

The roar of Pope’s engines settled to a rumbling growl as he coasted up to a stop just outside the Roadhouse. “Es este el lugar?” (Is this the place?) The Spaniard thought to himself as he allowed his dark eyes to take in the building then the cars parked. Almost instantly he picked out a familiar white truck and gave his chopper’s throttle a quick twist sending his bike forward just enough for him to stop behind the Ford F-150. He sniffed in its direction and caught only the faintest trace of her scent.

“Su camión está aquí, tiene que ser.”
(Her truck is here, it has to be.)

He muttered to himself lowly before letting his eyes glance back at the door before turning to look for an open spot to park. Noticing another motorcycle in the parking lot he cruised over to it and turned off his engine. Flicking open his kickstand with his boot he stood up from the seat and stretched his legs. Nikita had told him to meet her here, it had been about six weeks since he seen her. After their first meeting he’d spent some time in LA with her. Nothing had happened between them, but there was a definite chemistry present between the pair. In the end Pope left the city at the approach of the full moon, preferring the wilderness to being locked in a safe room for the night. He’d gotten a prepaid mobile phone so they could keep in contact and they did almost daily. That’s how he knew to meet her here. It appeared she had arrived already.

Pope removed his helmet and crouched down to unlock his saddle bags. He pulled out his matte black .45 1911, ejected the magazine to make sure it was full before sliding it back into the grip and chambering a round. Then flicking the safety on he slid the gun into the right-thigh pocket of his olive cargo pants and placed his helmet and his riding jacket in the bag before locking it and stuffing the his keys into his left pocket. Pope didn’t know what to expect, he was a werewolf walking into a room full of hunters. People who spent their entire lives hunting down creatures and exterminating them, sure Pope had Special Forces training but he was willing to wager there were a number of ex-military men in there. He wanted to on the side for good, but one never knew what to expect, he wasn’t taking any chances.

Walking up to the door, Pope opened it and stepped in. A mix of smells came at him, it was kind of like seeing with your nose. Pope found her by her scent before his eyes did, Nakita. He smiled and stepped into the Roadhouse letting the door close behind him, his eyes wandered over those gathered, marked the exits, picked out who was likely packing and where. He did his best to deduce the situation as inconspicuously as possible while he walked over to Nakita all the while letting his eyes roam around the room.

[The Preceptor]

Annali and Dean didn't exactly have what one would call a normal relationship. They hardly saw one another and she knew going into it that there would be more time apart than there would be together... but Dean had always been pretty good with checking in with her, usually with phone calls or voice mail and very rarely with text messages. She liked to think that even short and sweet calls to say good night helped him at least a little with whatever unimaginable horrors he was going through, so when several days went by without a word, sh her worries were starting to get the best of her. Something was wrong. She couldn't get any information out of Bobby and calling both Dean and his brother only resulted in hearing recorded versions of their voices. She knew everyone was trying to keep her safe but she was starting to go into full panic mode... she needed to know what exactly was going on and she wanted to hear it from a live person... not a text message.

So when she received the brief message from Dean last night she didn't hesitate to start packing her overnight bag. If Dean wouldn't answer his phone she was going to make him tell her face to face. She had heard the roadhouse mentioned several times over the last several months and had swiped a matchbook with its address on the back from Bobby's desk some time ago. She was a bit tired from working all day but she climbed in her little blue Aveo and dumped her bag into the passenger seat, started the engine and started driving, planning to stop soon for gas and energy drinks. It was going to be a long night.

By the time she arrived in town she was exhausted. She pulled into a packed Wal-Mart parking lot and found a parking space that was a good distance from the store but still among other vehicles so that she wouldn't seem out of place. It was late in the afternoon and she was eager to find Dean but she wouldn't be of any use to anyone unless she got a few hours of sleep at least. Annali set an alarm on her cell phone and shut off the engine, reclining her seat as far back as it could go and closing her eyes, yawning and dozing off easily.

A few hours of sleep seemed to go by quicker than normal. Annali was startled awake by the annoying sound of her phone alarm. She sat up, blinking away the tiredness from her eyes as she shut off the alarm, readjusting her seat and looking around. It was about 9 P.M. now and many of the cars around her were gone. Annali pulled down the car's sun visor and flipped open the mirror, checking her reflection. She pulled her purse into her lap and after running a comb through her hair, popping a couple of peppermints into her mouth and touching up her subtle make up just a bit, she fastened her seatbelt again, checked the address on the matchbook and started the car, entering the address into her GPS and taking off toward her destination.

The Roadhouse was about like she imagined it. It looked like something straight out of a movie, the sort of place where people much more earthy and rugged than her would hang out. Annali knew from her time spent with hunters such as Sam and Greg how to dress, so she didn't feel too out of place in her worn, dark faded jeans, brown hiking boots and a denim jacket worn over a dark red long-sleeved tee. She left her bag in the car and grabbed her purse, stuffing her phone into it as she got out of the car and made her way to the door.

Through the glass she could see a few people inside and her stomach turned because she didn't know if this was the place she should be. But then her scan of the room through the glass lead her to a very worn out looking Dean who looked to be heading over to one of the tables, focused on the person sitting there... Greg? This was too much... she wondered if they met like this a lot and didn't bother telling her. Either way, it didn't matter. Just seeing Dean right then made her heart jump and she took a deep breath, pulling open the door and heading inside. She tried to ignore any curious faces that turned her way as she entered and made her way right over to him. "Dean?..."

[Deleted]

After the ringing stopped Adam looked down past the smoke of his gun to see the blank emotionless stare from a man he couldn't say he really knew, his boot pressed against his throat was now just as ineffectual as it probably was killing him in the first place. But Adam didn't know that. It immediately dawned on him though that perhaps he needed a ride, and the idle vehicle he pulled the man from seemed more then fitting to Adam's needs. He was starting to get used to this, as immoral as it seemed to take the life of a human some people just deserved it. Problem was, he wasn't really sure this man did. However the concern for it was neither here nor there, the call went out and the reason why Adam was back in the thick of it was to help out. Current issues aside, he was useful.

After dragging the body to the side of the road, and rolling it into the ditch with a swift push with his heel he crawled into the driver seat of a 1995 red pontiac sunfire. His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly as his gaze hovered over, he white knuckled and peeled back onto the road without hesitance and began speeding towards the Road House. His heart pounding with anticipation, he shared in silence with the vehicle the road ahead. No music, just his breathing and the purr of this vehicle he just met and would have a very short term relationship with.

All of the relationships he has had at this point seemed just that. Ryanne a hunter around his age whom he has hunted with several times. Trusted friend, someone he could relate to. Would it still be there? Or would it be gone, in Adam's eyes or hers?Friendships were hard to keep, just as lovers were. What of Dean and Sam? He hadn't been the most responsive bastard of a little brother, else he'd be riding in the back seat of the Impala with them but he's not. Funny how you seek out the only family you seem to have left, only to be disappointed, or were they? The details become fuzzy, and the lines become criss crossed. Seems like even Adam's own mind was fading away.

Just how many people did he expect to see here? Somehow he felt as if he were driving right into a family reunion, he'd meet some people he has only heard of by name. What would they think? How would they react. Adam's eyes darkened as the road itself faded into dirt that kicked up and dusted the rims with a dull beige like over-tone. The fact of the matter was, what did Adam care?

As he pulled up along side the assortment of other cars and bikes, he stepped out slamming the door with a huff. He reached over through the open window and pulled out his duffel bag slinging it over his shoulders, his foot falls kicked up dirt that caked around the hem of his jean pant-legs that disguised whatever traces of non-descript fluids that would have been left behind during his extra curricular activities.

Shoving past the door casually as one would enter a bar his eyes darted around the room. He assumed this was the regular gang but he could never be entirely sure about that. He spotted Dean right away, but made no attempt in going over. His feet brought him to the bar, where he sat upon an unoccupied school to gather his barrings. The only other two people he currently recognized were Ryanne and Sully, though everyone else here seemed mighty interesting. Stories behind each set of eyes, that all sought the same thing.

Prevent the world from ending. If not, die trying.

[Jade Stone]

Jo

Jo pulled her Ford Ranger pickup into the vary familiar parking lot. This was the place she had called home for so many years. Truthfully, she did miss the place. She missed her mother too, but she was too stubborn to admit that to anyone. Well, maybe she might have mentioned it to Greg. They were probably drunk at the time so it didn't really count, did it?

She just sat in the truck for awhile and stared at the lighted sign on top of the building. "Harvelle's Roadhouse." This was even harder than she thought it was going to be. So many memories in this place. Her childhood, her father. She still missed him so much even after all these years.

Instinctively she patted the right side cargo pocket in her pants and felt the outline of the sheathed knife that was always carried with her in some way shape or form. Her father's knife, not so much for protection as it was small. It was however made of pure iron and had come in handy on a few occasions. Odd how a knife, a weapon of destruction in their business could bring you comfort.

Blinking her eyes she had to swallow hard as she pushed down more memories that surfaced. The day she was told her dad had been killed, she was only ten. The time the Winchester's walked into their lives. Ash... Her mother's ultimatium... Sam possessed by the demon Meg and attacking her. Holding her hostage to lure Dean into a trap. Dean, being... Well, Dean.

With a heavy sigh she dropped her eyes from the sign to the front door. She knew that she was stalling. Just prolonging putting off the inevitable. Then a slight smile flicker on her face. At least Greg would be here. The thought had her glancing around the parking lot to see if his jeep was there. Yeah, it was. That was a bright spot. Not that seeing her mother again wasn't a good thing... But, it was complicated.

Finally, she pushed open the truck door and climbed out of the cab. She adjusted the more functional knife that was strapped to her belt on her right hip. Pulling her olive green field jacket down to make sure it was covered. She made her way to the entrance. Her feet crunching the gravel as she walked. She hesitated a moment at the door. Her handing resting on the door handle, she took a deep breath and opened it.

The place looked the same. Smelled the same, sounded the same.

Jo let her eyes travel around the interior. Taking in everything. Looking over all the people there... Who was familiar who was not. Her eyes widened a bit at an odd site. At least it was odd to her. Two familiar faces she would never expect to be together. At one of the tables off to the side sat Greg Marsh and Dean Winchester. There was another woman making her way over to their table, she didn't know who she was... But it seemed like she knew both Dean and Greg. Well, wasn't that interesting.

Glancing up she also saw her mother at the bar with several people there as well. She didn't know any of them. She walked slowly, shuffling her booted feet a little while she walked. Not exactly sure how to handle everything. Her autopilot took her to the table first. She didn't sit down but she looked at Greg first and smiled.

"Hey Greg, good to see you. I'm glad to see a friendly face."

Her eyes flicked back to the bar again. Not sure of the reception she was going to get from her mother. She might really need his "friendly face" later on. Then she turned to look at Dean. She couldn't help but smirk. He looked like he had just gone a few rounds with Mike Tyson.

"Dean... What can I say. You look like shit."

She wasn't sure what else to say. The last time she had seen him... Well, it was a little bit hurtful to think about it. Though, she was long over it. It was still odd to see him sitting there.

Looking between Dean and Greg she raised and eyebrow.

"I didn't know you two knew each other."

Clearing her throat and trying to fight back those mixed emotions again she did her best to smile at the girl with them.

"Hi, I'm Jo... Jo Harvelle."

She hung around the table for a few minutes and made a bit of small talk with them. Finding out how they all knew each other. At least the basics. She was sure there was probably a much longer story to go along with that. She'd have to ask Greg about it sometime.

With another little sigh, Jo let her head roll around her shoulders. Stretching the muscles and feeling the joints in her spine pop. It was an indication of her anxiety. Her shoulders were tight.

"Well, I better... Uh. Go over to the bar. Get it over with. I need to talk to my mom. I'll see you all later."

Jo smiled at Greg again and gave a little wave as she restarted her journey to the bar. She had no idea what she was going to say to her mother. Most likely she probably wouldn't get to say much at first. Suspecting that her mother's wrath would be what she would be feeling for a good five minutes or so... maybe longer. Her mother could scold like no one else on the planet earth.

When she got to the bar, she didn't say anything at first. Chewing on her lip she ducked behind the bar and found an apron and tied it around her waist. It was such a familiar task, it almost felt as if she hadn't been gone all this time. Running a hand through her blond hair she faced her mother for the first time in a very long while.

"Hi mom."

That was all she could get out. Her voice faltered a bit. She tried to steel herself a bit. There were to many people around. People she didn't know. She was not about to break down and cry to her mother in front of them all. Though, at the moment... That's what she felt like doing.

(hope this is ok for everyone at the table. you guys can do or say whatever with Jo before she goes off to the bar.


HOLY CRAP!! I think my post is almost as long as Dean's!!)

[Deleted]

Castiel was actually not on the hunt that Dean and Sam had been on. Of course, he hadn't known that Sam had told Dean that. The truth was, Castiel was on his own mission to stop the seals. He had been away in Heaven for some time and now that he was back he was starting to see just how bad things were actually getting. He knew he needed to speak to Dean and Sam alone at somepoint, although Castiel was skeptical about trusting Sam these days. Castiel was starting to have his own doubts about everything.

He remembered when he was in Heaven. The whiteroom, they call it. The room where Angels go when they are being questioned. The room where NO one should go for punishment, but yet, somehow….Zachariah started putting it in use once more. Castiel had been rather quiet with Dean and Sam since he had been back from Heaven. He was trying not to let himself get too close to the brothers as Zachariah had mentioned, and now…it appeared he had no choice. The seals were breaking, and fast, and Castiel knew, he knew that he should have told Dean what was going on, but he also knew he couldn’t. If he did…Zachariah would surely destory him.

Dean and Sam knew OF Zachariah but did not really get the opportunity to really see what kind of angel he was yet. Castiel was reluctant to tell them. Zachariah was Castiel’s superior and Castiel was hoping that none of the brothers would meet him anytime soon. It was bad enough the angel frightened Castiel. For him to meet Dean and Sam in full force….would be devistating. Zachariah always said he had plans for them, and this worried Castiel more then anything. He hadn’t been sure what those plans were. All he knew was, Dean was meant to fight Lucifer should something happen. Castiel still didn’t know much more. Now though, he was starting to hear whispers, whispers of seals being broken, and whispers of angels going astray. It worried him to see his brothers and sisters falling, and it worried him more so that he could be one of them.

What they did to him in Heaven was unacceptable. Most of the angels there had been going through it, he was not the only one. When he arrived in the ‘white’ room as they had called it, Zachariah strapped him to a table to question him, with an angel blade to his chest. What he did after that was…Castiel had needed some time. Balthazar, his brother, another one who Sam and Dean hadn’t meant yet, was there as well. He remembered Balthazar was standing up for him. He was the only angel that had. “Of course he has to get close to Sam and Dean, Dean is his charge, you have no bloody right to take that from him!” Balthazar had said. “Castiel has done EVERYTHING you have asked and more and I will not watch you use Heaven’s persuasion on him as I’ve seen it done on others!

Zachariah had looked at Balthazar and only smlied “Then you do not have to watch,” he said and placed two fingers on Balthazar’s forehead and poofed him out somewhere. “Now that I have you alone Castiel…” he said with a grin, “Perhaps I could change your thoughts…” he said and shut the door….and everything anyone heard for the moment was screams.

So why was Castiel here? At Ellen’s Roadhouse? Was it because he WANTED his wings torn from him? No. It was because he knew from that moment on that he had to follow his heart. That their Father…would not want torture on others, that Heaven was so messed up now, that he didn’t’ know WHO’s orders he was following. Anna had also proven that point to him as well.

Castiel was running scared, though he didn’t wish to admit it. One thing he knew was as he entered the Roadhouse and saw all the hunters there, he knew that he would have to make a decision somehow. That some how, someway he would have to come to terms with things. On his own. He just didn’t know how he would do that exactly. Anna…she had disobeyed and had fallen. Castiel was not like that, was he? He was showing fear just by thinking of it.

He ‘poofed’ inside the roadhouse and saw everyone. Some he knew, some he didn’t. He knew Ellen and Jo. Dean spoke highly of them, but Ellen had helped him when he was Jimmy, not that Castiel remembered any of that but he had found out after and had thanked her for that. Still…he felt some regret taking in Jimmy’s vessel once again after seeing his torn daughter and wife.

Castiel nodded at Dean, and the others in the room. “I have some news…” he said to them. He looked at Dean and noticed that he was a bit beaten. He frowned wondering what could have happened, although he knew that Dean was a hunter and often got hurt, but still. Castiel had wanted to heal him, but hesitated. His superiors had often told him not to heal unless given the order to do so, and Castiel was by far, under orders at this point. . Castiel wasn’t so sure he should even BE in the room, but yet, here he was, with his human friends hoping to get some sort of grip on things. He didn’t know what was right anymore. He had been questioning orders FAR to long now and he knew SOMETHING had to be done, and fast.

[bobbysinger1]

Bobby was usually a stay at home kinda guy, although for the most part, he enjoyed helping hunters over the phones, and doing that sort of thing. Occassionally when things got real bad, Bobby stepped in to help in the field. Still though, he was getting a bit too old for some of this crap, but not old enough to retire. No one ever really retired from hunting. That was it really. The ghosts, or whatever else always followed you around. No matter where you went. Bobby was at his house answering the phones as usual when he heard about the hunters meeting. Usually when a group of hunters got together it was something big, and ALL hunters eventually found out about it. It came to Bobby pretty quickly, so Bobby packed up his things and got in his truck and took off. He of course, felt they shoulda met at his place with the panic room rather then the Roadhouse, but he wasn’t going to call a bunch of people and tell them that. Still, the Roadhouse was pretty safe.

It took Bobby a bit longer then he’d like to get there. He had flat tires here and there and some bad luck along the way. Course weather had to do with it too, he ran into some weather along the way and Bobby wondered if that had anything to do with a seal breaking or not. He knew that’s what this meeting was about. The seals were getting closer and closer to breaking. ALL of them. Bobby knew they were in for some shit if Lucifer should happen to come on Earth now. Bobby arrived at the Roadhouse after a long drive. He didn’t mind the driving so much cept his back was bothering the Hell outa him and he had to stretch after he arrived. He looked around the room as he entered and saw just about all his friends there. He was surprised, well not really, that even Rufus wasn’t there. Rufus was more of a stay at home kind of hunter though. He and Rufus drove each other crazy everytime they were around each other, so it was probably best that he wasn’t there.

Bobby walked inside and looked around the room. He stretched a bit still getting his walking legs back. Bobby saw his friends around the Roadhouse and couldn’t help but smile a bit. First, he saw Ry. Someone who he maybe met once or twice in his lifetime, but heard about her from others. Then he saw Sully and Nakita. Then he saw Dean, and Greg. He frowned when he noticed that Sam wasn’t around for now. Where was Sam? Bobby wondered what Sam was up to lately, and ever since Dean came back from Hell Bobby had a hard time trusting Sam’s intentions. Still…he was like a son to him and Bobby respected that. He loved both of the boys as though they were his own. Bobby was also a bit surprised to see Jo there. He hadn’t expected to see her around because he knew that she had gotten in some kinda argument with her mother about hunting. Still though Bobby was relieved to see so many people coming to help. Still, that also made him worry a bit. He hoped that they would all make it out okay, but he knew in the end that didn’t always happen. He also knew Dean and Sam knew that as well.

Bobby sat down and nodded at Dean, “Dean,” he said with a smile. Then he got a good look at him. He frowned. What the hell happened to him? Bobby glanced him over, “You look like shit boy,” he said. “What happened?”
That’s when he looked over at Cas who said “I have some news,” Bobby laughed a bit at the angel. That boy always knew how to break up a crowd. “Alright, wingboy here says he has some news…” Bobby said to them, “What do you have Castiel?” Bobby asked him.

[blairwinters]

Of course the first time in her life she was running late...the normally punctual hunter was really behind schedule. Her car decided to no cooperate and have a dying moment on her. Once she figured out the issue she temporarily fixed it. It will get her to her destination and that's all that mattered.

Blair gunned it to the placed she was supposed to be meeting other hunters, personally she had never been there but her father had. Her Father called and let her know about the meeting that was going to take place. He was too old to hunt so he figured his young and able Daughter would be able to help.

As she pulled into the parking lot and parked her car. Blair shrugged on her leather jacket and placed her hat in it's rightful place. It was such a cliche' but she dressed and acted like she was from the Lone Star state.

When she came through the doors Blair tipped her hat in respect and sat at an empty seat. She knew no one in this room because the medium tended to hunt alone. They say never to but she tried hunting with someone else and that did not end up good.

Blair observed everyone in the room and took mental notes on them. She liked to know what kind of people she would work with. It would be useful in order to get along with them. from what she observed they all seemed like amazing hunters, you could tell by how they carried themselves. Hopefully they could find a use for her, she was useful in many areas. Plus maybe her "gift" would come in handy, you never know.

[Sam Winchester (NPC)]

Sam

Sam woke up when Dean nudged him as he passed. It had been a long night. He had spent a couple hours up after they got here briefing Ellen on what had been going on. At least he didn't look as crappy as Dean did.

The hunt they had just come from had Dean looking pretty ragged. Sam didn't know why, but it seemed to work out that way a lot. It must have been Dean's sparkling personality that the demons and what not loved. Sam couldn't help but chuckle and he for sure wasn't going to complain.

After Dean had left the room he got up. Stretched a bit and then headed himself to the bathroom. A quick shower and then he got dressed. He felt loads better. It's pretty amazing how a shower can transform you from feeling like you have been awake all night to feeling downright human again.

Ellen had told him a bit about what was going on during their talk the night before. He ran what she had said through his mind. This was going to be a fight he thought. One last major push to keep the seals from breaking and averting the apocalypse. Would they be up to the task? Well, a lot of it depended on who answered the call and showed up to help. And for that, it was time to find out the answer.

Sam headed out of the guest room he and Dean had shared and out into the main area of the Roadhouse. He was surprised by the people he saw. Some of them familiar faces some of them he hadn't met before. That was alright with him. The more the merrier he thought.

Jo was there, not surprising that she was there but it had been so long since he had seen her. She was over at the bar helping her mom it looked like. Their brother Adam was even there. Greg Marsh and lo and behold, Annali. Those were all a little surprising. Bobby and Castiel, it went without saying they were there.

Sam let out a sigh as he scanned the room. He found the table where his brother sat and made his way over. Sam looked around at the three people sitting there. Nodding at Dean in greeting. He put his hand out to shake hands with Greg.

"Good to see you here Greg. It's been awhile."

Then he turned and smiled at Annali.

"I'm a little surprised to see you here. But, I'm glad that you are. We can use all the help we can get on this one."

With the greetings out of the way. Sam pulled out a chair and sat down. Wondering when Ellen was going to get things rolling.