|
Post by Bianca Pagliaro on May 5, 2009 11:18:13 GMT -4
Bianca tried to pick up words as they streamed from Chuck's mouth.
Write. End of the world.
Ok then.
"Let's back track bit, k?" Bianca put her hand on Chuck's arm. "So you're a writer? Did I interpret that right? And you're writing about the end of the world?"
Not the happiest subject, but not exactly an original one either. Bianca had skimmed the "Left Behind" series and she was unimpressed. Hopefully this guy was a little better than that.
"Who are you trying to reach? Try telling me that." She squeezed his arm gently. "If it translates into German, I'll get out my computer and type it into Babblefish and translate. Just try. Nothing ventured, nothing gained right?"
Bianca listened to Chuck's request. That was a firm no if she'd ever heard one.
"No. Not no, I don't have anything sharp or any weapons, but no, I'm not giving you any. You're not hurting yourself. Seriously, let's try and work something out."
Bianca had a sudden thought. Getting up from the floor, she crossed the room and unzipped her bag. Pulling out a half full bottle of tequilla, she poured two fingers worth into one of the plastic motel cups.
"Here, drink this." She put it down on the floor next to Chuck. "It'll calm you down."
|
|
|
Post by Chuck Shurley on May 6, 2009 1:24:42 GMT -4
Chuck forced his eyes to meet with Bianca’s as he felt her hand upon his arm. He would give her credit most people would have tossed him out for being utterly insane by now.
“I’m a writer…was a writer…or well still am but. I wrote a series of books but they turned out to be…”
Chuck paused for a moment not being able to say the “real” himself because the concept was still so foreign to him even after everything he had seen and written since then. It definetly did not get any easier…ever.
“I don’t write because I want to any more…it’s because I have to,” Chuck muttered finding the words to explain the situation. He could remember a certain point in time when his entire life revolved around his writing and how it was his escape and comfort and now it had turned into his very own hell on earth.
Chuck stared at Bianca for a moment as she asked him to tell her who it was he was trying to reach. He wanted to tell her and hope that she would understand it but even if she could hear the name “Dean Winchester” she wouldn’t know what the hell to do with it.
Chuck couldn’t help the crestfallen look that crossed his face when she shot down his request of her having any sort of weapon handy. He knew it had been an insane request but he knew that if he put himself in enough danger it would catch someone’s attention.
“I wasn’t going to…you were,” Chuck muttered his head resting upon his knees.
His eyes met the glass of alcohol she held out to him and he didn’t think twice before taking it and downing it with a slight grimace; setting the cup down on the floor beside him Chuck opted for burring his head once more.
“…Dean…Winchester,” Chuck finally muttered giving her the name of who had was trying to get in contact with. The name had sounded like English to him but that meant nothing in regards to what Bianca would hear if she would hear him say anything at all.
|
|
|
Post by Bianca Pagliaro on May 6, 2009 10:42:22 GMT -4
"A series of books is cool." Bianca sat down on the edge of the bed, watching the incredibly strange young man who was sitting on the floor in front of her. "But you write because you have to....?"
That didn't make sense, but it did succeed in forcing Bianca's memory back to the deal she'd been a pawn to. For a moment, she was lost in the memory of her own personal hell. As she thought she could shake it off, Chuck's next words threw her right back into it. He'd unknowingly hit a nerve. Bianca felt her face harden. The idea that she would hurt someone innocent for no reason, that she was no better than-.
"I am NOT a killer." She growled, keeping her eyes on the man's form. "Demons, bad guys, yes, but innocent people down on their luck? Not hardly."
Bianca got up from the bed and paced off to where she'd left the tequilla bottle. She poured her own shot and downed it. The burn in her throat eased away a portion of the memories she felt resurfacing.
"I don't know anybody named Dean Winchester." Bianca turned back to Chuck who was still huddled on the floor. "And the name doesn't mean anything. Who is he? Friend of yours?"
She forced herself to remember that she wanted to help him. He hadn't meant to hit a nerve, and didn't realize he'd done it. Bianca tried to calm herself down by focusing on the matter at hand. It was easier than curling into her own fetal position on the bed with the tequilla bottle and a straw.
|
|
|
Post by Chuck Shurley on May 6, 2009 10:58:11 GMT -4
“I write now…because I have to…long story,” Chuck explained with an exasperated sigh and a shake of his head as he stared absently across the motel room.
Chuck shrunk back slightly in response to the anger that suddenly filled the woman’s tone. He had apparently said the wrong thing in bringing up the fact that he planned to have Bianca kill him and not the other way around.
“I’m sorry,” Chuck apologized as he looked away from her and back down at his feet.
“…But if it makes it any better you wouldn’t be able to kill me,” Chuck muttered as he couldn’t help feel defeated as yet another plan of action crashed and burned in epic fashion. He was beginning to think that going against any of this was pointless since the angels had the rest of his life already mapped out for him.
“Didn’t think you would…and even if you did you wouldn’t remember…they wouldn’t let you. And no he isn’t a friend he’s…” Chuck had no idea what to classify the Winchester’s as. For the longest time they had just been characters of his own making but now that they were living and real it was something else entirely.
“He’s one of my characters.”
|
|
|
Post by Bianca Pagliaro on May 6, 2009 11:16:13 GMT -4
Bianca poured another quick shot and finished it in under two seconds flat. She was going to have to pick up another bottle soon. She was running low.
"Yeah, don't worry about it." She responded to Chuck's apology. She was certainly not allowing this situation to turn around into a discussion of her past. Chuck clearly had some issues going on here, and now her curiosity was getting the better of her and she wanted to sort it out.
"Who wouldn't let me?" She asked suspiciously. Bianca crossed the room back to the bed, this time liquor bottle and cup in hand. She couldn't have it sitting so far on the other side of the room. That wouldn't solve anything.
One of his characters?
What the fck?
He was having her dial people he had made up? Curiously, Bianca grabbed her cell phone from it's charger, retrieved the piece of paper and punched the number in once more.
"Thank you for calling Tiffany and Company's customer service. To check the current status of your order, press one...."
Ok, this was just weird. Now the phone number was switching parties it was dialing?
"Seriously, dude, just come clean with me." Bianca hung up the phone. "Just tell me what's up. Cause I called this number a few minutes ago and reached Verizon, and now I'm reaching Tiffany and Company? What's going on here?"
|
|
|
Post by Chuck Shurley on May 7, 2009 2:34:19 GMT -4
"The ang...never mind," Chuck already knew Bianca's view point on angels and he figured one last thing he had to attempt to explain right now the better.
"The things...people that are hell bent on making my life a living hell. But it's fine...thanks for trying just the same," Chuck nudged the toe of his sneaker into the motel carpet beneath his feet.
Chuck watched as Bianca grabbed her cell phone and dialed the number on the piece of paper he had given to her. He watched her fate attempting not to allow his hopes to climb but he found himself holding his breath just the same.
As confusion crossed her face disappointment crossed Chuck's and then moments later there was the million dollar question.
"Nothing you would believe," Chuck explained with a shrug as his eyes fell back upon the carpet below him.
|
|
|
Post by Bianca Pagliaro on May 7, 2009 20:47:53 GMT -4
Bianca tossed her cell phone idly onto the bed. She reached down to the floor and retrieved Chuck's cup. Pouring him another shot, she placed it down on the floor beside him.
"Ok, you don't have to tell me. It's cool. I'm sure there's a lot of things we wouldn't believe about each other."
Bianca put the tequilla bottle down on the floor and laid down on her stomach. If he wasn't going to tell her what was up with him, she'd try some reversed psychology.
"I'm a hunter." She told him. "I'm a hunter, and I can see spirits. Not like Sixth Sense, seeing dead people deal, but I can see like real spirits who have problems. I try to help them-when I'm not going after demons or other weird creatures."
Bianca poured herself another shot, even though it was incredibly awkward in her current position. She held the glass in front of her and stared at the liquid.
"I was almost murdered about a year ago. Really sick guy. Twisted and such. I don't want to know how many people he killed Anyway...."
Bianca downed the shot before pushing herself back into a sitting position.
"That's me in a nutshell. You don't have to believe me. No one does-at least not on the first part. The second part-well, you'd be the first to hear that."
|
|
|
Post by Chuck Shurley on May 8, 2009 2:55:21 GMT -4
Chuck’s eyes shifted from the worn carpet to the cup refilled with alcohol that Bianca sat down next to him. Without a moment hesitation Chuck took the cup and downed it the liquid burning down his throat as he scrunched his eyes for a moment feeling the slight effects of the alcohol on his system. He had as of late become a professional when it came to drinking himself into oblivion and he couldn’t help but wondering if giving himself alcohol poisoning would work for the whole putting himself in “danger” game the angels were playing.
"I'm a hunter."
Chuck’s attention immediately snapped up to Bianca as she began to share about herself. Chuck sat silently as she continued on and merely stared back at her for several moments after she went silent not exactly knowing what it was he was supposed to say to that.
Sooo he put his own cards on that table.
“…I’m a prophet of the Lord and it’s the end of the world and I can’t tell or warn anyone who can stop it so instead I am just suppose to sit and right the new Gospel so people will know about it all…fun times. Oh and let’s not forget Sam and Dean…the characters I wrote in my books; they’re real people who are the hunters fighting against the end of the world.”
………………..Awesome he sounded like a friggin lunatic even to himself.
Chuck reached for the bottle which sat next to Bianca and poured some more liquid into his cup before downing it back moments after.
|
|
|
Post by Bianca Pagliaro on May 8, 2009 6:43:21 GMT -4
Bianca pulled a lock of her hair over her eyes and twirled it. She'd been opposed to growing it out long again. It was too easy to get suck into things "accidentally"-like blenders. That was such a problem when lunatics came into the picture.
Bianca looked down at Chuck as he began to speak. Immediately, her eyebrows shot up in disbelief. She believed the whole deal about a drunken tongue spoke a sober mind but in this case she couldn't determine if he was mocking her or serious. Something in the back of her head told her he wasn't in much of a joking mood-but seriously, a prophet? Yeah......
"Ok then." Bianca nodded, skimming her brain for what she knew of prophets from the church services she'd been dragged to as a kid. "So prophets write the gospel and sh!t don't they? So are they going to have to do like an amendment to the Bible? Cause I was under the impression that was like a done deal or something. But dude, you want to be a prophet? Have at it."
The whole concept was foreign and Bianca wasn't buying it as far as she could have thrown him, but hey, if drunken people wanted to babble up bizarre stories, she was cool with it.
"The Apocalypse huh? I didn't see any rivers turning to blood or anything. And yeah, sucks when fictional characters come to life." Bianca poured two more shots, coming close to emptying the bottle. She was going to have to make a run to her car and see if she had more.
"Cheers." She hit her cup lightly on Chuck's before tossing the shot back.
|
|
|
Post by Chuck Shurley on May 8, 2009 15:18:37 GMT -4
Chuck stared back at Bianca silently for several minutes. She didn’t believe him…obviously; and he couldn’t even fault her for it because if he was anyone but him he wouldn’t believe his fucked up tale either. He sat silently as she clanked her cup against his and downed her shot and followed right behind her seeking comfort in the alcohol even though he knew what it would lead the way to…the same thing it always did no matter how hard he tried to ignore it. Every time he closed his damn eyes they were there, the images, the blood the fire…everything it was all there and he had no place to hide from it.
“They haven’t…not yet…all the seals aren’t broken,” Chuck muttered in reply to her statement about the rivers turning to blood. There would be plenty of blood…plenty of it soon enough.
“You could think of it as a new…New Testament,” Chuck explained stealing Dean’s words to explain the “Winchester Gospels” he was supposed to be writing.
“I don’t wa…you know you’re right…I’m crazy…sorry,” Chuck muttered his eyes falling on the almost polished off bottle of liquor that sat beside the woman.
If he had the drive or hell even the strength to egg her own close enough to kill him or try to he might have just so she could see he wasn’t out of his mind and then he would also have an angel to bitch at, but he was far too defeated and beginning to be far too drunk to do much more then think about it.
“…Can’t sleep…can’t warn anyone…and I can’t die…but I can write…that apparently makes up for it all…”
Chuck wasn’t even sure who it was he was talking to any longer as his head thumped lightly backwards against the motel wall and his eyes searched the plaster cracked ceiling above him.
|
|
|
Post by Bianca Pagliaro on May 8, 2009 15:52:01 GMT -4
"So like, the Four Horsement and the Seven Angels with Trumpets and such Those kinds of seals?" Bianca had been forced to attend a children's Bible study on the book of Revelations once. It had scared her for weeks. And for a child who already saw spirits, that hadn't helped a thing.
"Great, I'm sure my parents will be thrilled. They'll be first in line to read it. If they still spoke to me, they'd be super thrilled I'd met a prophet. Fuck, what am I saying? They'd think we were both nuts."
Bianca dropped down onto the floor next to Chuck. She could feel the warmth that the tequilla brought with it and it was comforting in a bad way. She knew she needed some other escape, but this worked.
"Hold on a second." Bianca got up, slipped on a pair of flip flops, collected her car keys and left the room. Her balance wasn't great, but she didn't have any intention of driving so it was all good.
Popping open the Mustang's truck, Bianca found two full bottles of tequilla. There was nothing saying they needed to drink both of them now, but if the mood so took them........
Returning to the room, Bianca dumped the rest of the tequilla from the current bottle into Chuck's cup. She was drunk enough now that she didn't rightly care what he said he was. Hell, he could have been Paolo in a Prophet Suit and she would have kept drinking with him.
"This is not a way to solve problems." She opened one of the new bottles of tequilla and filled both of their glasses to the top. "But sometimes, when your life sucks, you don't have much choice."
Bianca took a sip from the glass. That much tequilla burned-and probably would have killed a small animal. But Bianca's liver had survived enough and a few more glasses of tequilla wouldn't hurt.
|
|
|
Post by Chuck Shurley on May 8, 2009 16:14:41 GMT -4
“Sort of,” Chuck agreed as Bianca brought up the 4 horsemen. He hadn’t seen those guys…yet.
“You don’t seem so nuts…well no ok maybe a little bit cause you have yet to throw me out…but not entirely,” Chuck stammered over his words his head tilting slightly to the side as he attempted to keep Bianca in focus which was becoming more and more of a chore as time went on.
Chuck sat in silence after Bianca had stumbled out of the room. He let his eyes slip shut for the moment the alcohol he had downed easing his headache slightly but the pull of passing out was what was becoming the problem now. He could feel the pull of the prophecies licking against him wanting to drag him hurdling down into them again…
“At least he’ll die human…”
“Liltih was his first…”
“You should not have come…”
“She can break the final seal…nobody else can…”
“You’re a monster.”
Chuck jerked awake startled as Bianca reappeared in the motel room his eyes wide and an ever slight tremor coursing through him as he pushed himself slightly more against the wall. He watched as Bianca made her way back over with 2 new bottles of tequila.
Cheers to alcohol poisoning.
Chuck’s eyes grew slightly wide as he watched Bianca fill up their glasses to the rim with tequila. A small smirk crossed his face as he ran a hand over his face for a moment attempting to clear the fuzzyness of it all.
“See…I knew I could get you to try and kill me yet,” Chuck muttered as he reached for the glass sloshing a bit on his hands as he uncoordinatedly managed to pull it to his own lips. He grimaced slightly as the alcohol seared its way down his throat but it would work just the same. His clouded mind couldn’t help but attempt to figure out exactly how much alcohol one needed to die of alcohol poisoning but he figured today was a good a time as any to find out.
|
|
|
Post by Bianca Pagliaro on May 8, 2009 16:46:54 GMT -4
Bianca tossed her head back and ran her fingers through her hair. She liked the fact that she was sitting because had she been standing, she would have been flat on the floor.
"I don't exactly see you pouring it out." She told him with a slight smile. "And it's not killing, it's self medicating. I've been doing it consistently for awhile now. Trust me, it's a good hobby."
Bianca took another sip from her cup and for the first instance, felt like she might throw up. Ok, maybe it was time to slow down just a little.
"So prophet, you say.... Cool. So do you go by "The Prophet Chuck?" Or something cool like that?" Bianca traced a scare on her arm. It had turned white with the eventual healing that had come, but she could still see it had been made by barbed wire.
She was drunk-there was no denying that now. Bianca was convinced in about an hour, she wouldn't remember this conversation or necessarily who Chuck was, but it kept her from thinking anything serious. And if she passed out, she'd be too drunk to remember any dreams that wanted to be pesky.
In her drunken haze, Bianca realized she was calling attention to the mark. Dropping her hands away, she looked back at Chuck.
"So how's the world going to end?" She wrapped one curl idly around her wrist. "Fire this time, right?"
|
|
|
Post by Chuck Shurley on May 10, 2009 10:02:31 GMT -4
Chuck allowed a small smile to cross his face as Bianca pointed out that she didn't see him pouring it out. She would have been spot on with her observation; Chuck had learned long ago about this form of self medication though for the longest time it had actualy been a form of self medication. The headaches he got were more then enough to want him to drink himself into a daily coma and not stop until he passed out; that was ofcourse until he had been enlightened into what exactly his headaches brought about.
"Trust me I know," Chuck explained taking another swallow from his cup. The tequilla was strong...fricking lethal was more like it but that was what he was counting on though he was pretty sure he would pass out long before he could muster up any alcohol posioning but that wouldn't stop him from trying.
"No not cool...veryv ery VERY not cool," Chuck corrected her his voice growing cold with the statement. There was nothing about the whole "prophet" thing that he liked. He knew things, could see things and there wasn't a soul he could tell so that he could help stop the end of the world. Because no that wasn't his jpb he was just supposed to be the form of an angelic rubber encker and siply "watch and report."
Chuck watched as Bianca seemed to entrance herself with a scar on her skin and Chuck wondered what had caused it.
"It's not cool...remember the whole bit about me losing my mind...yeah not an understatement," Chuck muttered as he downed almost the entire cup of tequilla coughing violently a few seconds afterwards as it seared down his throat.
"W-What happened?" Chuck asked as he slumped back against the wall his body feeling like a sack of briks thanks to the alcohol...yeah he was long past drunk he could feel it but yet his body had begun to do what he had grown good at as of late and that was fight tooth and nail to stay awake. Afterall if he didn;t sleep he couldn't see anything...anther crap plan but he was running out of good ones any how.
|
|
|
Post by Bianca Pagliaro on May 10, 2009 18:09:48 GMT -4
Bianca was fairly amused that being a "prophet" was not cool. If it was so uncool, why was he declaring himself one? He could have made up a cooler title then "prophet". Actually, Bianca thought that if she was going to give herself a title, it wouldn't be "prophet." Maybe goddess? That could be fun.
"Your mind seems fine to me-well, as fine as a man with this much tequilla in his system can be." Bianca told him as she brought her own cup to her lips again. She took a long swallow and waited for the burning to subside. This time, tears came to her eyes. She blinked and shook her head.
"Damn." She cleared her throat, before realizing that Chuck was choking worse than she was.
"Easy." She cautioned. "Not too fast. This stuff will kill something." She patted his back for emphasis to try and ease the cough. It probably wouldn't help anything, but it was what her grandmother would have done in this case. Not that she would have been getting smashed on tequilla in front of her grandmother, but regardless-.
"What happened?" Bianca laughed. "You choked on a full glass of tequilla, that's what." Chances were that might not have been what he was asking, but Bianca wasn't in the mind set to sort it out.
Leaning back on the wall next to Chuck, she took another long drink from her cup.
"Hell, this is not the way to start a day." She let her head fall onto Chuck's shoulder as she stared blankly off across the room.
|
|