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hunting 101

Hunting 101 - Wednesday

"Okay, kids," Dean said, taking a seat on the teacher's desk. Look at him being all teacherly. And nary a dodgeball in sight! "Today we're gonna talk about shape-shifters. The kind that can turn into anyone they want, not the ones that grow fur and fangs. Those'll be covered next week."

"I apologize to anyone who ate right before class, because this might get kind of gross," Sam said with his best puppyface. "Like Dean said, shape-shifters can take on the appearance of anyone they want, and the ones we're familiar with do it by, well, shedding their skin with each new appearance. Literally."

That got a smile out of Dean. Because he was a twisted individual. "If they see you, they can look like you. And if they look like you, they start being able to think like you. And we mean literally. They have some weird ability to get your memories and and mannerisms. Which makes them harder than hell to catch when they start killing people."

"Not all of them are automatically killers," Sam said. He was still determined to be the diplomatic one here. "But it's pretty easy to get away with crimes when you can change how you look whenever authorities get too close."

"Or impersonate the cop investigating the crime..." Dean shook his head. "Easy way to check. Cameras. They can look normal everywhere but on film. Their eyes glow like they're on fire or something."

"And, probably obviously, finding a pile of gross skin sitting around is a bad sign too." This was the anti-eating class, seriously.

"Oh, and teeth. Hair too." DAMN IT, BOYS. Dean clapped his hands together. "Alright, how to stop these suckers is simple. Silver works on them. If you're fresh out of silver... decapitation. Which works for a lot of things, really. When it doubt, remove the head and burn the remains."

"We're not going to have you practice that sort of thing yet." Suck it up, Dean. "For now, we're going to give you guys some cameras and have you practice your photography skills. Taking pictures when something strange is going on is always a good idea in general. Snapping good shots of suspicious people takes a little practice, so try to get your shots without stopping and focusing for too long. You might not get the chance to take your time."

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Dean frowned, looking away. Mmmm. Anger issues and PTSD.

"I'm an angry guy," he replied sarcastically. "But I don't go after anything that is living peacefully."

"Sometimes it's really easy to blame the 'thing' for not living peacefully."

"Yeah, actually it is. Some thing killed my mom. And my dad. And my brother." He flashed her a quick, joyless smile. "So, yeah."

"Some people killed my parents." She had no idea if that was true. But it stood to reason. "That doesn't make all of them evil. How are you making sure the 'thing' you're going after is the 'thing' that actually did it?"

"We investigate it. Make sure it's not some pyscho human." Which, you know, happened occasionally.

"When are you going to teach us how to do that part, then?"

"If one of you thinks they can go on a hunt, they're an idiot." True story. "Sam and I have been doing this crap since we were kids. All we're doin' is giving you a clue of what is out there and how not to get ganked by it. Because amateurs? End up dead in a hurry. Or they get good people killed. And yeah, maybe even innocent things."

This was... possibly as nice as he got about monster rights. Sorry, Raven.

"Then maybe," Raven said. "You should make sure you remind the class of that, sometimes."

Because, yeah, she'd been accused of everything from shoplifting to murder to communism (because blue was the new red?). She didn't need this class teaching people how to be better at witch-hunting.

"And . . . shapeshifters in your world don't really explode when they get hit with silver, do they? Because ew."

Dean rolled his eyes. "No. They don't. And I'm guessing you don't either."

"Not that I know of. No one's ever actually tried to stab me with a silver knife."

That she knew of, anyway.

"Can you wear it?"

"Well, my foster mom mostly just has gold around -- she thinks silver's tacky -- but yeah. I don't get a rash or anything."

"Then I really doubt you're anything like the ones back home." Plus, you know, skin peeling.

"Good," Raven said, a little primly. "Because ew."

"Yeah, trying coming across a pile of skin," Dean replied dryly. "Pretty sure Sam puked the first time."

This might be a lie, but. You know. Older brother privileges.

"It sounds like it probably hurts." Shapechanging shouldn't hurt. It should just feel kinda neat.

Dean just shrugged. "So, am I gonna get some explanation about the blue scales?"

Well. He hadn't tried to kill her yet. Raven glanced back to make sure no one was watching, then held up one hand, letting it shift back to its natural shape and color. "I have them. They can change shape. I was born like this. The end."

"That's actually kind of awesome." SUPERPOWERS WITHOUT HOMICIDAL TENDENCIES? WHAT?

Raven shrugged. "Sure, when no one's trying to kill me for it." SHE CAME BY HER POTENTIAL FUTURE HOMICIDAL TENDENCIES HONESTLY.

Edited 2013-06-05 21:32 (UTC)

SIGH. RAVEN, NO.

"Yeah, story of life," Dean muttered. "Everyone wants to kill everyone else."

"Really." That earned you an epic teenage eyeroll of doom. Yep, they totally had that in the fifties, too. "And how often did you have to run for your life when you were four?"

WELL, WASN'T THAT A SPECIFIC AGE?

"Pretty often," Dean said after a moment's thought. "Carrying my little brother all the way."

YOU KNOW, AS A "FOR EXAMPLE".

"Least you had a brother," Raven said. Because this was totally now the "my life sucks" olympics. "I didn't find mine until I was at least nine."

Whoa, whoa, whoa there, Raven. Let's not start fights we can't win here.

"You got family. That's the important thing. Most important thing in the world."

Let the world burn to save family kind of thing. SERIOUSLY, DEAN. THIS WASN'T NORMAL OR OKAY.

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