Waiting out the storm [CLOSED]

Tue, 26 Jul 2011 11:22:56 GMT

CHARACTERS: Castiel (buryindecadence) and Dean Winchester (fearlessleader)
DATE/CANON POINT: Sometime earlier in 2014, before The End.
WHERE: Motor City Pharmacy somewhere in the ruins of Detroit, Michigan.
SUMMARY: Armed forces decide that shelling the hot zone is a good idea. It is... but not when Dean and Cas are currently looting said pharmacy on a supply run.
WARNING(S): Violence, language, mention/use of drugs. Will update.

The mission was a simple one. Drive out to Detroit to one of several 'treasure troves' they kept on lockdown -- relatively safe, as long as you avoided the Croats -- grab as much as they could carry, then return to base. The hard part was getting in there and out again alive. The place was a hot zone... swarming with the mindless zombies of those infected with the demonic Croatoan virus. One of these troves was the Motor City Pharmacy... and it ran right up there on Cas' favorite places, along with Chuck's... but both for very different reasons. The store front had been looted long ago, with even some well-intentioned fools yanking the cashier registers from their counters and busting them open for money that was useless. Other, more enterprising looters had just gone for the toilet paper.

Thanks to Dean's skill in cracking locks, they'd scored a jackpot -- the caged and locked basement that housed all the supplies. Including enormous bottles of medication that was extremely difficult to come by. It meant another few years of life for some, and maybe a few months of fun too. But it wasn't all just for Chuck and Cas. Castiel had brought one fact to Dean's attention that he was sure was completely relevant to his recreational interests.

Lubricant. Specifically the kind the other survivors of the female persuasion preferred. See? Everyone wins.

With a smirk that crinkled the corners of his eyes, he tossed a package of several bottles toward his fearless leader with a wink before diving down to unzip his duffel bag. So far, so good. The mission was going pretty well this time. He'd be back in time to dump off the goods with Chuck, wash up and maybe indulge in a little recreational drinking to celebrate.

Oh, note to self to stop by that old liquor store down--

That strange whump of displaced air causing his ears to pop, with a distant rumble that shook the room and dusted the floor with crumbling plaster... that shook free a few items from their shelves. Castiel's head rose up from where he was stuffing large white plastic jars of medication into his duffel bag among packages of gauze, bottles of antiseptic -- anything he could get his hands on in short order. The plan was to get in, get whatever they could in the scant few minutes they could spare in the hot zone, then get out... lock up this treasure trove before hoofing it back to camp.

Blue eyes turn to the flickering florescent lights on the ceiling -- an oddity that told him there was a power generator somewhere down here in the storage basement beneath the store -- and he passes a hand over his overgrown stubble, swinging a concerned glance back toward Dean. Lifting his hand as if preparing to ask a question in a classroom setting, not in a pharmacy in post-apocalyptic Detroit, he sought to get his attention.

"So, uh. At the risk of sounding like I'm tripping my balls off? Please tell me that wasn't an explosion I just heard."

Camp Chitaqua

Waiting out the storm [CLOSED]