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Post by Jilak on Nov 13, 2010 19:58:43 GMT -5
Well, this was a first. Someone had offered to assist John... and he honestly felt it to be a good idea. He was used to working solo, true, but this... this was something he couldn't handle on his own. No matter how much it pained him to say it, these demons, this... force... this was too much for even him to handle. And Patrick, Patrick seemed to know what he was doing. He was absolutely the best backup for John at the moment, he felt. Because he felt he understood Patrick. From their conversations so far, he'd sounded very John-like. If anything, at least he didn't have to worry about him suddenly becoming psychic or something. Yup. Perfectly normal Patrick. Yep.
"Yeah, okay, sounds like a plan to me. Thanks. Going to need all the help I can get, I think." John responded, checking the rounds left in his gun. Not many. And he'd all but drained all the store's salt reserves on those demons... and Patrick. Great.
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Post by mugenginga on Nov 13, 2010 20:14:50 GMT -5
Patrick finished tying the bandage off and took a deep breath before getting to his feet. He actually did it rather well, showing a respectable pain tolerance about the whole situation. The sun was showing its first signs of raising by this point. Given the time of year, it put it at well into the morning by the hour of the clock. Patrick stepped back and grabbed a somewhat gaudy souvenir shirt to pull over his head before addressing John again.
"I've got some contacts sprinkled through the Island. The situation seems fitting enough to get in touch," Patrick noted John checking the gun and walked over, grabbing something off a shelf. He tossed the swiss army knife to John, still in package, "It's better than nothing for when you run out of ammo."
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Post by Jilak on Nov 14, 2010 2:15:34 GMT -5
Well, that was good, Patrick had contacts. It was really lucky, because all of John's were back in his dimension. Wait, that wasn't true. All of his contacts were dead. Pastor Jim, Caleb, all of them. Killed by a demon. Because of John. A lesser man would've stopped and felt quite sorrowful for it, but John Winchester was different. He understood what it meant to be a hunter. It meant not dwelling on such matters. John knew a hunter that had lost his mind, and he attributed that solely to caring too much, letting the little things get to him. Wasn't the type of man John was, honestly.
That being said, it also didn't seem to be the type of man Patrick was. They'd come across a woman who had been burned alive, and he hadn't so much as batted an eye... sans the eye batting that was done when John shot him, of course. Not to mention, he'd taken John's mention of the Colt rather well, and judging by an earlier statement actually believed him. Which was good, John didn't like it when he was laughed at by people that were for all intents and purposes as sane, and well-informed, as he was. They'd seen the same things he'd seen, why was a kill-anything/kill-most gun so hard to believe?
John looked down at the swiss army knife Patrick had thrown him. It was better than his plan of making more holy water, that was for certain. Stuff didn't stay holy-fied forever, and there was the rare occasion where he'd have to go through the trouble of finding a priest to do it for him. Probably what his boys should have done, honestly. The really strong demons always seemed to require it.
"Used to have one of these. My dad gave it to me when I was a kid. Lost it when our house burned down." John stated, stuffing it in his pocket.
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