5.7.2013 NI is officially 2 YEARS OLD! Thanks guys for making those years amazing!
FOLLOW YOUR INSTINCTS
Welcome! Have you ever wondered what your favorite supernatural TV fandoms would look like if they were all literally interconnected? If Damon from Vampire Diaries heard about Sunnydale becoming a crater? What if 'fighting for vampire rights' in True Blood mattered in the world of Supernatural? Want to find out how your favorite characters will react in a world like this? Join in and don't forget to follow your instincts!
Canons: True Blood, Being Human (BBC), Vampire Diaries, Buffy & Angel, & Supernatural.
If Zahir found out she was here, her older brother was not going to be happy. But he had been part of the group to save her. How Zahir had managed to gather so many - none of whom she knew, nor any that knew her - Ayda really was not sure. Knowing her older brother, he probably had some sort of leverage over the vast majority of them.
Most had been other witches. Another had been some sort of psychic. But this one had been different. He had been human, but clearly dangerous, familiar with demons and how to fight them. A hunter. Ayda had no interest in becoming a hunter. The world was, and always had been, shades of grey, never any true 'good' or true 'evil' in it. Hunters, at least the ones she had met before everything, tended to like things in black and white. No, she didn't have the personality that hunting demanded.
What she did want from the hunter was to learn, though. She knew she needed to learn to defend herself. The past two (had it really only been two?) years had showed her that much. She had to learn to defend herself, even without magic. Especially without magic. She had learned how dependent she was on her spells - without them she had no idea how to defend herself. With luck, he'd be able to train her. Willingness never even entered Ayda's mind. Clearly her brother had some sort of leverage over this Dean Winchester. Which meant that she did too. And if all else failed, she had a bargaining chip, though Zahir wouldn't like it in the least.
Seemed like there was a lot of things about this roughly cobbled together plan that her brother wouldn't like. Like the fact that she was in a bar full of hunters, most of them likely armed to the teeth. She was out of place here, that much was clear. Her bruises and cuts were still there, still visible, but she didn't have that rugged, dangerous look that most of the people, men and women, here seemed to have. But they wouldn't hurt her. She was at least seventy-five percent sure of that fact. Ayda hid her discomfort, walking to the bar and ordering a beer before turning around and looking around the bar.
She found him easily, and walked over the table. She managed a smile, the gesture sincere. After all, this man had saved her life. "Mind if I join you?"
WHAT DAY IS IT? AND IN WHAT MONTH? THIS CLOCK NEVER SEEMED SO ALIVE. i can't keep up and i can't back down, i've been losing so much time. ALL OF THE THINGS THAT I WANT TO SAY JUST AREN'T COMING OUT RIGHT. I'M TRIPPING ON WORDS. you've got my head spinning. i don't know where to go from here. • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
Despite how he crashed back alone at his table, Dean wasn’t the anti-social type. It would have been easy to strike up casual conversation, although this wasn’t necessarily the bar for that. Usually what was talked about here was in regard to hunting. Whether it was an assortment of takes that you questioned the exaggerated nature of or information on the newest bad lurking around New York, it was a web of information, rather than a place to hook up and socialize with anyone and everyone. There were some hunters that he’d met up with her before, people that he saw more often than not, but also familiar faces that he’d never once said anything to for a variety of reasons. Dean didn’t communicate with every hunter in the bar. A lot of hunters, even in a place like this had secrets and kept a lot under wraps. And frankly, Dean wasn’t the kind of hunter that trusted just about anyone. Hell, most hunters weren’t. But, he had those he was most comfortable with and connections that he relied on. It wasn’t to say that he didn’t have the occasional hand from someone new or that he didn’t have a web of connections left behind by his dad. He had all of that. But, for the most part, he was with his family; with Sam, Bobby or Jo and with little else to do working close-knit with others. He could and had. But, what he could and did do wasn’t always what he did all of the time. Tonight he wasn’t specifically looking for information, but instead a place to relax where he wouldn’t have to deal with anyone that might just happen to sympathize with vampires. He couldn’t put up with that point of view tonight. It was dangerous, terrifying and he never quite understood how people could put so much faith in the grey area.
It was something that he couldn’t do and shouldn’t, because he was a hunter. Black and white was important to his survival and to the job, in general. Now, he wasn’t as black and white as all hunters. There were some that were far over the line as far as he was concerned. Hell, he’d been on the receiving end of hunter anger before, after all. And not because of him, because Dean was completely human. But, because of his brother, who while human had something special about him that hunters didn’t like. Not to mention, the apocalypse had been his fault. Though Dean was two years past blaming him for that and he didn’t deserve to die, because he was a person and a good hunter. Hell, his younger brother probably had a bigger heart than he did. He sure as hell had more compassion and understanding that Dean didn’t always have. As he was approached by a familiar figure, Dean looked up from the beer bottle that he had been casually sipping at. He remembered her easily as the woman that they had saved—Zahir’s sister. When it came to what he owed Zahir, Dean wasn’t happy about it. He didn’t feel like being indebted to anyone. But, helping save his sister hadn’t been something that he really felt as pushed into. Although he figured if he had refused vehemently, there probably wouldn’t have been a lot of getting out of it to begin with. But, the truth was, he had no qualms about saving the girl. No one deserved to be trapped in some hell dimension. Saving her wasn’t something questionable at all. As she approached, he smiled at her. “Sure, spot’s open.” He nodded to the open seat across from him. He was surprised to see her here, of course. But, didn’t address that right away. “How’s it going? Good to be back, I imagine.” He commented and while he hadn’t been to some kind of hell dimension like hers, the hunter had been to Hell and back and he understood how it felt to have Earthly freedom again. “Can’t say I expected to see you around here.” He admitted, but it wasn’t a bad surprise. It was good to see she was all right, just interesting that she was here.
Ayda gave him a smile. "Good to be free. And alive. I don't think I gave you a proper thank you, before." Granted, she'd been pretty messed up. It had taken her a few days to recuperate from the physical injuries she had sustained - there were still ghosts of the nasty bruises on her darker skin, still cuts that were healing, slowly but surely. It was in part thanks to him and the others. And her brother - though it was hard to work her way past the grudge she had built over the course of the years, the anger she had nursed over being left behind, forgotten.
She sat down across from him, sipping her beer. Her parents would've found it distasteful, her drinking like this. But then, she'd done lots that they had disapproved of before, too. Had they known why she was really in that hell dimension, they would have lost it. "It's going as well as you'd expect. Trying to piece things back together." Ayda shrugged, as if it were nothing.
She crossed her legs, the movement having none of the pain it had before, when every movement had caused her pain, every flinch causing another. Most of the injuries that remained were surface, little things that didn't cause much pain.
"Can't say that a couple years ago I ever expected to be around here. But things change." She explained softly. "You know your way with a weapon. I was lucky that you came with them. I was actually sort of hoping that you'd do me another favor. Nothing so big or dangerous this time, though."
WHAT DAY IS IT? AND IN WHAT MONTH? THIS CLOCK NEVER SEEMED SO ALIVE. i can't keep up and i can't back down, i've been losing so much time. ALL OF THE THINGS THAT I WANT TO SAY JUST AREN'T COMING OUT RIGHT. I'M TRIPPING ON WORDS. you've got my head spinning. i don't know where to go from here. • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
Dean expected that it would be better to be out again. Who wouldn’t want to be free after being trapped in a hell dimension? By nature, it was better and of course, he expected her to be glad she was free. And while Dean didn’t really know her well, he was glad that the attempt had been successful. He really didn’t have anything against her. He had qualms with her brother, because he didn’t like owing anyone anything, especially not for killing a monster, but he hadn’t had a problem with helping rescue Ayda. Sure, he might have copped an attitude about it at first, but Zahir was among the many that seemed to bring that out without even trying in Dean. His attitude was practically waiting for people like him to ask him something, just so it could strike. Not that his attitude ever really slept. It was always there, prepared to hide anything that was going on beneath the surface. As smug and stubborn as Dean was, it wasn’t always completely genuine and there were times when it was disguising more than he liked to admit. But, that was the point. Dean didn’t admit to how he felt when it came down to it. He didn’t acknowledge that he wasn’t always brave, that he had his share of fears and the insecurities that lined him were numerous. He didn’t just have a couple. He had an entire list and he didn’t see himself as the same guy that he showed half of the time. “I think you can be exempt a thank you, you were pretty roughed up. Besides, it wasn’t a problem.” It was hard and dangerous and of course he appreciated the thanks. It was always nice to hear, but it wasn’t something that he needed or that he thought less of for not getting.
“I get it. Time’ll probably help with that.” He figured that it would take a while to recuperate and to adjust back to her life. It was just how it worked, right? Dean looked around the place, chuckled under his breath and then turned his eyes back on her again. “They sure do.” Now, he expected that she looked like the type that wouldn’t be hanging out around here. And there were definitely aspects of Dean’s life that he would have never expected a few years before. Hell, he wouldn’t have even guessed that he would be in New York City most of the time a couple of years before. He wouldn’t have guessed that he would be static anywhere, much less NYC. Nor would he have thought that vampires would come out and become common knowledge. A lot changed, life was just like that. Just when he thought he had it all figured out, most of the time, he didn’t have anywhere close. It was when she started to ask him about a favour that he looked more curious about what she could possibly have to ask him. “Well, you’ve definitely got my attention now.” He admitted. “What is it?” Honestly, he wasn’t sure what she could ask of him, though he would hear her out.
Exempt a thank you? Perhaps in his mind, but not for Ayda. As time went by, she was determined to thank personally everyone who had helped. Dean was just one of the first - because she also had a favor to ask of him. She knew there was no real way to ever repay the favor they had all done her - they had all put their lives at risk for a girl they didn't know. "You risked your life for me, when you didn't even know who I was. Whatever my brother has over you, I still owe you a thank you. I owe you and the others my life." No, thank you didn't begin to cover it. But it was a start, at least.
Time. Time helped with everything. Matthias insisted that time would help with their relationships. But there were wounds that time didn't heal, that didn't ever get easier to bear. He was a hunter, one of the types that tended to live outside the law. He probably knew better than most. But now wasn't the time for seeking pity or understanding, and Ayda wasn't the type. Besides, from what she could tell, she and Dean seemed to be understanding each other just fine, and he did it without all the questions, without the pitying looks or concerned glances.
"Teach me." Her slender fingers were wrapped around the beer bottle, fingernails absently playing with the label. "To fight, that is. I don't need to learn how to do all that you do, but I need to learn how to defend myself. To learn to do something more than make rings of salt and chant exorcisms. After everything that happened, I figured you'd be the best person to ask, Dean." She couldn't be like her brother, not any more. She had seen - had experienced - first hand what they were capable of. Even when her brother's beloved right-hand man Charlie was around, Ayda was not without holy water.
Probably why the demon didn't come around the house much anymore.
WHAT DAY IS IT? AND IN WHAT MONTH? THIS CLOCK NEVER SEEMED SO ALIVE. i can't keep up and i can't back down, i've been losing so much time. ALL OF THE THINGS THAT I WANT TO SAY JUST AREN'T COMING OUT RIGHT. I'M TRIPPING ON WORDS. you've got my head spinning. i don't know where to go from here. • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
Dean was grateful for her thank you, really. He might not think that she had to thank him and Dean really never put himself in a position where he thought anyone owed him. He did his job and most people never knew he helped them to begin with, so he was used to the lack of thanks that the job gave. But, at the same time, he didn’t crave it either. He didn’t need gratitude, but he appreciated it when it came. He really did. And he gave a small smile and nodded. “Well, you’re welcome then. And trust me, even if he didn’t hold anything over me, I wouldn’t’ve passed that up.” Because, when it came down to it, she was an innocent stranger to him. Sure, he had been grumbly over having to do something for Zahir, because he didn’t like the debt that he had, but at the same time, Dean wasn’t going to let some girl suffer in a hell dimension. That wasn’t what he was about and he really didn’t mind risking his life for something like that. He risked his life day in and day out. He was a hunter; it was just the nature of the gig. And he thought it was worth it. All of the risk, danger and loss was worth it because at least someone was safe because of it. He couldn’t save everyone, obviously. But, if he could save his fair share, then that would be good enough. He knew he wasn’t some kind of superhero that could accomplish saving everyone. But, he also thought he was pretty damn good at what he did. While his confidence wasn’t always there and the self-worth Dean had was only half of what his smug personality presented, he still knew how to do his job.
It was her request that quieted him for a few seconds. He was considering it, surprised that she came to him with that. He couldn’t say that he blamed her. In her position, if he didn’t know how to defend himself, he felt like he would have wanted the same thing. It wasn’t as if she was asking him to teach her how to hunt, because that would have required a very different answer. Dean wasn’t in the business of bringing out new hunters. But, there was no harm in helping her defend herself. If anything, it was better that she knew how. And Dean did have the means to teach her. He knew his way around an arsenal and could defend himself against the supernatural easily enough. Well, sometimes. It wasn’t always easy and it couldn’t be. “I don’t blame you for wanting it,” he admitted. “And if it’s to defend yourself, I don’t see why not. Hell, I’d rather you could.” He admitted. The last thing that Dean wanted was for people to be helpless. He might not have approved of some people going and seeking out danger, but he absolutely wanted people to be able to fight and handle themselves. They were better protected that way.
Ayda smiled. A true hunter, hm? It seemed so, considering his only concern had been to save her. Either that or he was a true hunter in the sense of wanting vengeance. Either way, though, he had saved her life. That was all that mattered. It did, however, make her feel self-conscious. Would he have felt the same if he had known what she was doing there? How she had ended up in a hell dimension in the first place? Ayda was far from an angel. She had always avoided out-right kidnapping the demons (had even walked away from some that refused) but in those days she had been a smooth talker. Convincing and cunning.
That guilt was part of why she wouldn't go back. Well, the guilt and the fear. It was a bit like karma, her ending up at the mercy of a demon, after all the ones she had lured to Earth, only to have them hurt. Or killed.
Embarrassment made her cheeks turn a darker shade, and she met his eyes after a long drink of her beer. "I have a bit of a knife and sword collection, but it's just a collection - most of them are sharp, but I don't really know how to use them, outside of ritual purposes." She admitted.
WHAT DAY IS IT? AND IN WHAT MONTH? THIS CLOCK NEVER SEEMED SO ALIVE. i can't keep up and i can't back down, i've been losing so much time. ALL OF THE THINGS THAT I WANT TO SAY JUST AREN'T COMING OUT RIGHT. I'M TRIPPING ON WORDS. you've got my head spinning. i don't know where to go from here. • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
When it came to the rescue, Dean wasn’t going to question why she was stuck in the first place. As far as he was concerned it wasn’t his business to begin with. Whatever the reason, it didn’t mean that she didn’t deserve to be saved. She was still human and they were still demons. Dean might not have approved of the capture of monsters for fighting purposes, but that didn’t mean that he valued them either. He was more on board with killing them, not using them. Although he was never going to travel to different dimensions to kill off any monster he could. He was interested in killing the ones on Earth. To him, the world was a little black and white. While he knew the grey area existed and he could apply it where it mattered, it wasn’t his biggest concern. And at the end of the day, Ayda was a human caught in a hell dimension and that was what mattered to him. He wasn’t going to just tell Zahir where to shove it where that was concerned. He wasn’t going to leave her in there if he could help in some way. Dean was a hunter; it was his job to help people. Even if he didn’t know why she was there and if he knew, probably wouldn’t have agreed. It wasn’t about that. He wasn’t going to sit around and judge her, really. Unless she was hurting other people, in which case, he would. But, monsters? He wasn’t out to help the supernatural. That was pretty much the opposite of what he was out to do, so when it came down to it, he valued her life over theirs. He was a hunter, so why wouldn’t he? No one deserved to be at the mercy of a creature.
Now maybe there were some people out there that might deserve it. But, he wasn’t going to unleash it or stop himself from saving someone from the supernatural, even if he thought they might deserve it. It wasn’t his place to play God that way. Now, there had been times where the victim of an attack didn’t have his sympathy, but that was different from letting someone get torn apart. He wasn’t there to choose what people lived and which ones died. And if Dean had a choice and could do some good, then he would. It was as simple as that. And if Ayda needed his help, then he saw no reason why he should say no. She wasn’t asking to become a hunter and so already she had his attention and if she just needed to learn how to defend herself, then Dean could be right there to help. “I know my way around knives, a little less with swords,” he admitted, because swords weren’t something that he needed to use often enough to be great with them. Though he knew how to use a variety of knives and tended to take on vampires wielding a machete, so it wasn’t like it was foreign ground to him. And the idea of that collection caused a smirk to appear on his face. “And you’ve gotta show me this collection.” Dean couldn’t help that with being a hunter, a love of weapons also developed. And while his interests were usually in guns, he also had a thing for anything sharp. He figured even without being a hunter, he probably would have liked things that were sharp or loud. He probably wouldn’t have had much use for them, but weapons could be pretty awesome. And so, while he did want to help her, he was also curious about the weapons.
He was interested in her collection? Ayda probably shouldn't have been surprised by that. He was a hunter, he had experience with weapons. Liking weapons was sort of part of Dean's job description, after all. Momentarily Ayda wondered, couldn't help but wonder actually, what sort of shape her collection was in. She hadn't been to her old apartment since returning to this plane. Matthias was no longer living in their old loft, but Ayda hadn't decided yet whether or not she was going to get rid of the loft or move back in. Her entire family didn't seem keen on the idea of her being on her own at the moment, which (despite her occasional irritation over it) she understood.
On the bright side, it would mean the place was empty. "Well, I'm not really sure what sort of state they are in after all these years, but you're welcome to come over to my old loft. Fair warning, I haven't been in there for over two years, so it's probably an impressive sort of mess." It didn't matter, though, as long as her weapons were still in good condition. Still, Ayda smiled. She had been collecting since she was a child, so the collection had grown large. Not huge, of course, but still a bit impressive. Some of the pieces weren't exactly common, either.
It would be interesting to see her old home again. "I'll even bring some beer for us if you want to head over now." Because no night of sharp pointy objects was complete without alcohol.
WHAT DAY IS IT? AND IN WHAT MONTH? THIS CLOCK NEVER SEEMED SO ALIVE. i can't keep up and i can't back down, i've been losing so much time. ALL OF THE THINGS THAT I WANT TO SAY JUST AREN'T COMING OUT RIGHT. I'M TRIPPING ON WORDS. you've got my head spinning. i don't know where to go from here. • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
Weapons went hand in hand with hunting. If he didn’t like to weapons then hunting would have been a difficult task. Though, he supposed some just saw them as tools of the trade and didn’t give any more thought than that. But, if that was the case, he didn’t think that they were in the majority. Dean always had a certain love of weapons—since he had been a kid, really. He had been barely seven when he fired off his first gun and that was where it started really. He learned to shoot, then how to modify and maintain guns. He could take care of his knives too, although generally speaking, he had a vast interest in firearms above and beyond knives. Still, what kind of hunter didn’t like a sharp blade? It wasn’t every day that someone told him about their knife and sword collection. Even without that allure, he would have been willing to help her, but it helped his interest become even more piqued. So, he would hope that she’d show it off to him, regardless of what state they might be in. Dean couldn’t help that he had an interest and he didn’t even attempt to hide it. There was nothing wrong with a little love of things metal and sharp and often used for killing. Killing was also in his job description; though there was a huge difference between the death of a monster and the death of a person. And just because he was adept with just about any weapon that made its way into his hand didn’t mean that everyone else had that. Not everyone had been trained the way that he had. And his training had started early, but it was important that it had. He wouldn’t be the hunter he was now, if he hadn’t and he probably would have died even sooner than he had the first time. He knew how to defend and protect himself, not to mention innocent people that needed it even more.
“Believe me, messes don’t bother me.” Dean didn’t know what to expect of her loft, but if it was a mess, that wasn’t going to bother him. Not when the state of his own motel wasn’t impressive and he was actually staying there. At least, half of it was in a state of disarray, because his brother was far more neat and orderly than he was. Dean simply threw his things wherever and didn’t think much of it. He didn’t need to keep a completely organized area. As long as he could find things and walk around, it wasn’t a big deal. Interested in what she had to offer, Dean nodded. He didn’t have any plans for the night, so to go back to her place to check out the collection and to help her however he could wouldn’t be so bad. After all, with what she had been through, he didn’t blame her for wanting to learn how to protect herself. Actually, it was a pretty natural reaction. The same reaction he had when he got his ass kicked by something that he didn’t know how to fight. At that point, he learned how to defend himself and possibly kill it. For her, she had every reason to want to be able to defend herself and really, she should be able to. “Sure, why not? My night’s free, and if you’re offering beer and knives, I’m there.” The chance to look at weapons and drink alcohol? Oh, Dean was all over that. There was barely a question in the offer.
Ayda smiled. "All right, then, follow me. I'm in the grey acura." Since coming back her parents had decided that, despite it being New York City, she needed a car - the last one she had was sold in her prolonged absence, and her parents had traded in one of their old ones and bought a new one for her. Luckily she never went into the parts of the city that got really bad traffic if she could help it. If she did, she usually parked somewhere and just walked to where ever she was going.
But that was neither here nor there. It didn't take long for them to get to her loft, and Ayda had to appreciate the roar of Dean's Impala's engine. She wasn't much of a car person, but she could still appreciate the appeal in the car. She had stopped at a liquor store, and as promised, picked up a couple cases of beer, a bit of scotch, and a bottle of wine - though that last was for her, later.
Stepping into the building, Ayda led Dean to one of the upper floors, unlocking the door (after fumbling a bit to remember which key opened up the damned place) and stepping inside with the sort of unfamiliarity that showed exactly how long it had been since she had stepped foot inside. It was a learning process - she didn't remember where things were anymore, and it took her a moment or so to find a light switch. "There we are. Home sweet home." There was a bit of dust through the apartment, though not much. Matthias had moved out after a time, but her family owned the actual loft, so it was still hers, and they had made an effort to clean it every now and then apparently.
"Sorry. It's been a bit, still trying to remember where everything is." A few pieces of her collection were immediately obvious - bookshelves that were filled had at least a shelf dedicated just to knife and sword displays, and Ayda knew that somewhere she had more that weren't on display - ones that were actually sharp. "Most of the ones out aren't really for use - my brother has a kid that I used to watch, didn't want to risk him getting ahold of something he could kill something with."
WHAT DAY IS IT? AND IN WHAT MONTH? THIS CLOCK NEVER SEEMED SO ALIVE. i can't keep up and i can't back down, i've been losing so much time. ALL OF THE THINGS THAT I WANT TO SAY JUST AREN'T COMING OUT RIGHT. I'M TRIPPING ON WORDS. you've got my head spinning. i don't know where to go from here. • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
When it came to New York City traffic, Dean couldn’t stand it, but he would rather grit his teeth and bear it than have to bother walking or taking public transportation. To put faith in a taxi, he had to trust the driver and from what he saw, there was no reason at all to do that. Plus, why not have his own car to get around in? It was easier that way and Dean needed to be able to get himself from point A to B whenever he had to go. There was no way in hell he was going to park his baby for any long duration unless he absolutely had to. If given no choice, he would suck it up and of what he had to. But, there was nothing that kept him from taking his own car, except for the frustration of never getting anywhere fast when he was in congested areas. And there were times when he decided that it was close enough to take a walk or when his brother had taken the car so he was left without a choice, but tonight wasn’t one of those nights. Rarely was there a night that he didn’t have his car with him. From the bar and to her place, Dean kept behind her car. He didn’t want to lose her in the midst of the city. Eventually he trailed her to her building and parked the Impala, insuring that the doors were locked before he got out to follow her up. With a look up at the building, he assessed it before he walked with her up to one of the top floors. He didn’t say much and simply waited for her to unlock the door and followed her inside.
Once the lights were on, Dean glanced around, taking it in. It looked like a nice enough place; not that he was one to judge someone’s living space anyway. The hunter lived in cheap motels for crying out loud. He didn’t look around in hopes to judge, but to just get a sense of the place and maybe even more of a sense of her. Though, since she hadn’t been there in so long, he supposed that it could be hard to really gage her from what was in the apartment. “Nice place.” He complimented. At least it looked like someone else had been caring for it, because after that long, he imagined the dust would have been a lot worse. Casually, he walked over to the display and looked over the knives that he saw there. “Impressive.” With a comment, he looked back at her. “Where do you keep the sharp ones?” Of course he was still as enthusiastic and eager to see the sharpened ones. The display was nice, but he wanted to see what could actually cause some real damage. And given that she knew what and who he was, he didn’t think it was too strange to be that eager to see her collection.
He wanted to know where she kept her actually sharp knives. Ayda opted not to mention that she wanted to know the same thing. Some things had been moved around, which wasn't terribly surprising considering the fact that the place was obviously being kept clean somehow. Still inconvenient, and part of her wished her mother (for she doubted it had been anyone else) had just lifted her stuff long enough to clean, and not rearranged the entire damned apartment.
Still, it felt like her apartment at least. Artwork in middle eastern themes, book cases lining the walls - filled with books, and knives, pictures and statues. Another that was dedicated purely with her movies and CD collections.
She finally found it, a large case at the bottom of her closet, locked securely. Not even her brothers or Matthias had the key to this. "Right here, apparently." Ayda commented, pulling it out of the closet. Hauling it into the living room, she set it beside the bag with the beer on the coffee table. For a moment, Ayda was forced to sort through her keys, finally finding the right one.
Before she unlocked it, she handed a beer to Dean and took one herself, using a key to pop it open. That done, her attention turned back to the case. Unlocking it at last, she opened it up. "These are all my sharp knives - I have a couple of sharp swords in my bedroom if I remember right. I can grab those later if you want to see them." There was a small kopesh knife in there - small for what it was, but still carefully made, as well as some basic curved middle eastern knives, and a few double bladed daggers.
WHAT DAY IS IT? AND IN WHAT MONTH? THIS CLOCK NEVER SEEMED SO ALIVE. i can't keep up and i can't back down, i've been losing so much time. ALL OF THE THINGS THAT I WANT TO SAY JUST AREN'T COMING OUT RIGHT. I'M TRIPPING ON WORDS. you've got my head spinning. i don't know where to go from here. • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
While she looked for her knives, Dean let himself take in the apartment. It was nice, although he wasn’t exactly the type of person that went around judging apartments. Naturally, he found himself interested in her weapons collection, but as a hunter, he thought it came obviously. He figured even if he wasn’t a hunter, he probably would have had a strong interest in them anyway. It was just something that really did go with the job description. He’d been raised around weapons and trained with them for most of his life. So, it wasn’t as if there was any sort of discomfort around them. He loved weaponry. And it wasn’t as if he was bad at the usage either. There were some weapons that he probably wouldn’t know his way around, because there was a hell of a lot out there and Dean predominately used guns. They were effective and helpful in nearly every hunt that he’d been on. Even some vampires reacted to wooden bullets, which he had to say was an awesome discovery. When it came to firearms, it was where Dean was most comfortable. He’d been shooting since he was a kid and had a bit of a natural aim when it came to guns. But, it didn’t take him out of the game for other weapons either. He was good with knives too and while he didn’t tend to wield swords, he did know how to take the heads off of vampires with a machete. He had that working in his favor, right? And he didn’t need to be an expert every weapon out there to be able to teach someone how to defend themselves. That was basic and Dean absolutely knew the basics. Dean wouldn’t have thought to say no to Ayda’s request.
When she found the knives, he chuckled. “Things get moved around on you?” He asked. He took the beer as she handed it to him and twisted the cap off before he took a drink as he waited for her to open up the box. When she did, he looked over the knives there and gave a small smile. It was a little bit like a kid in a candy store, but he was a hunter, and so hopefully that made it a little less strange. It was a part of the job, frankly. And if he didn’t like weapons, then he would have a difficult time doing what he had to. It didn’t mean that he had to really enjoy them, but he did and he didn’t think that was so weird. “They’re impressive.” He said and he reached down and grabbed one of the curved knives to study it. “I’d like to.” He said, referring to the swords for later. “So you ever learn anything about how to use these?” He asked, not sure what her knowledge was when it came to wielding knives around. He put the knife down, only to look over one of the daggers instead.
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