taxonomites | 015: [holo] [location: Sunnydale Cemetary] Yellow Fever

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015: [holo] [location: Sunnydale Cemetary] Yellow Fever

Accidental posts seem to be all the rage for Dean these days.

This time, he's sitting outside, lounging on the back section of his Impala. His expression is a bit tense, like he's uneasy about something, and every once in a while he scratches at his arm, which are turning a bright red color. Maybe there's something on his mind?

Or maybe he's got this weird suspicion that any second now, something nasty things are going to pop out of gravestones in that cemetery he's parked in front of.

[[ooc: Glitch start! ♥]]

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How can Dean be grinning at a time like this? Buffy's jaw drops just a little at that rather alarming statement-- she could almost hit him for dropping it in there so casually, but she won't.

"What? What do you mean 'not for long'?"

Because he's manly and has no need for fear. Yes.

"I figured out what this is," he replies, showing her his arm. It's getting to the point where it's got the start of gashes, just a bit, but he can't stop scratching it. "It's called Ghost Sickness, and I got it."

"Ghost Sickness-- what? How did this happen? What is it?" She frowns at his arm, getting extremely anxious by this point.

"...and stop scratching." She adds, as firmly as possible.

"It's a sickness." Dean explains helpfully. "Someone gets killed in a nasty way, and they infect people around them who have the same personality traits as the murderer. I have no idea how it happened."

Scratch scratch. He jumps when she tells him to stop, and he gives her a disgruntled look before dropping his arms to his sides.

Okay, Dean jumping at that tiny thing is... is sort of hilarious, but unfortunately she's a little too concerned to really appreciate it.

"I smell a glitch." She sighs, lifting a hand to her temple as if that'll help her think. "So, I mean... other than the scratching, what are the symptoms? How does it kill you? Is there like an... antidote or something for it?"

Definitely hilarious. Wait until he starts jumping and screaming at small fuzzy creatures.

"You get anxious, then scared, then really scared, then you die. Of heart failure," Dean replies, staring at his feet. Maybe if he doesn't look at anything he won't be scared by it. "No antidote. Unless we can find the body I got it from, but since there aren't exactly any freakin' dead bodies laying around, I think we're out of luck."

"Scared. Which would be why you... fell off the car when you saw me." Buffy will totally look back on that and laugh. For now she's trying to think of a solution for this big old problem.

"Okay, so there aren't any dead bodies, but-- Oh! What if we freeze you? Like, you know, the way they always do in movies-- being cold slows down the heart, right?"

Dean looks like he wants to protest that first bit, but seeing as it's true, he just grumbles a bit.

Also, have a serious 'wtf' look from Dean at that last suggestion.

Well the 'wtf' look is fairly justified, but that doesn't stop her from being mildly indignant in Dean's general direction.

"...or, okay, maybe not, but I don't see you overflowing with better ideas, Mister Cowardly Lion."

"Really, Buffy? Freezing me? That's the best you can come up with?" Dean would be amused if he wasn't so... y'know. Terrified.

"Fine, I'm way off my game..." Buffy concedes, with a weary sigh, before plunging into thought again.

"Is there a way that we could unscare you? Like, by distracting you with some kind of... fun activity? Or something non-threatening like bunnies?"

Dean rolls his eyes and then looks down at his feet. It then occurs to him that something could possibly grab him from under there, so he hurriedly pulls his legs up off the ground, glaring suspiciously at the ground.

"Bunnies bite. And have diseases." Is Dean's answer. Gonna go with a 'no' on that one.

"And what do they need such good eyesight for, anyway?" She asks, laughing partly at Dean (sorry, she can't help it) and partly at the fact that Anya (Xander's ex) hated bunnies and would've said exactly the same thing.

"Okay." She says, in a purposeful manner, putting a hand on his arm. "I think we should get you out of here, somewhere a little less... spooky. Like my house-- or your brother's, if you'd prefer? Staying here isn't going to help your fear factor any."

Dean is not amused, so he'll just make a disgruntled noise and sort of pout a little. Bunnies are terrifying. Really. Those big floppy ears are just a cover up. Everybody knows things that are really cute are actually really evil.

Right, Dean's stopping that train of thought right there.

Come on, though, Buffy, he's still looking at the ground, don't scare him like that. When she touches his arm he squeaks and jerks away, then stops, and sighs.

"... Yeah, alright. You mind if it's your house? It's... got more windows." Dean says, scratching at his arm absently. Meaning, it's not as dark and dusty as Bobby's house.

Pouting? Squeaking? Good lord, Buffy's going to have enough ammunition on Dean to last for months. That said, she withdraws her hand pretty quickly, wearing a rueful expression. "Sorry..."

At least he's not arguing or trying to resist, however. She nods, sliding off the hood of the car in preparation to leave. "Okay-- and of course I don't mind. Windows are... good." She pauses, rather awkwardly, as a thought occurs to her, gesturing vaguely at the Impala. "Umm... do you-- I mean do you feel like you can drive? I wouldn't ask, except-- we had the conversation about how I drive really badly, right?"

Oh, man, she's going to have to tease him forever. Not sure how much can beat 'Bendy', though.

"You're not driving my car," Dean says pointedly, because yes, he does remember that conversation. He nods, though, because he does think that he can drive. He'll drive really slow, but he can drive.

"I got it. It's not that bad." Yet. And so he slips off the car, kind of darts a little way away from it so that nothing can potentially grab at him from under the car, then nearly runs to the driver's seat.

The minute he's in it he turns on the music, and yes, that is Eye of the Tiger.

'Scaredy' and all variations thereof could work pretty well, though?

"It's probably for the best." Buffy looks extremely relieved as she makes her way (a lot more sedately) to the passenger door, and hops in next to Dean. She raises a solitary eyebrow at the music, giving him a pointed sidelong look.

"If this turns into an 80s movie montage I refuse to participate."

'Scaredy Dean' does have a nice ring to it.

When she mentions the 80s montage thing, Dean gives her a flat look. Come on, Buffy, don't you know the rules? They're simple: driver picks the music, shotgun shuts her cakehole.

"You should've seen what Sam had in here when he took my car for a while," Dean replies, starting the car carefully.

Oh, she will be using that one.

Buffy never shuts her cakehole, that's also a simple rule that Dean should probably learn.

"Experimental jazz?" She suggests, familiarizing herself with the car a little-- this is the first time she's been inside, after all.

Fantastic. Dean's looking forward to it.

Good point. He's starting to get that.

"No, even though you can't get much worse than that," Dean says, starting his car. "Celine Dion. Little bitch put Celine Dion in my car."

And he's driving! Really, really slowly.

"No way-- Celine Dion?" She laughs, reclining a little into her seat as it looks like this is going to be a rather long journey, at the rate Dean is driving.

"When I was at college I had a soul-sucking demon for a roommate and all she ever played was Celine Dion. Over and over. It's the music of evil! Bad hair and evil."

Hopefully that particular anecdote isn't too terrifying? Oops.

Not too terrifying, but deeply disturbing. Dean's grinning slightly at the end of that, though he's entirely focused on the road at the moment, watching out for anything that can cause problems.

"You got the bad hair part down," Dean replies, giving a small snort.

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015: [holo] [location: Sunnydale Cemetary] Yellow Fever

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