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[The few days it's taken to adjust have been, well - Sam is not going to use the word 'Hell' because he's actually been, and this is crappy but it doesn't come close. Still, anyone who hasn't seen him yet might be a little alarmed at what's being broadcast: six feet and four inches of sickly sasquatch, valiantly trying to address the network, appallingly pale, sallow-faced and bloodshot-sunken-eyed.]

Hey. Uh - Sam. I'm new. I guess this is a, uh, a thing that, that people do. Is introduce themselves. And I get that - we're all looking for a way out.

[Auspicious beginnings. Who knows if anyone's even getting this? Nevertheless, he continues.]

Okay. So. No promises, but there's something I can try. Kinda like a ward, or a spell. [Magic exists, surprise. The few people he's already talked to have expressed a kind of varied interest in this sort of thing, so caution be damned.] Anyone wants to help, I'll need a couple things.

First is - salt. Table salt, any kind will do. Second? Matches, a lighter, anything that can make sparks, even for a few seconds. And then I'll need something to write with, marker, pen, spray paint - I don't care. Anything along those lines.

[He looks at something off-screen, mouth briefly twisting in what might best be categorized as 'disgust'.]

I have food to trade for it. Heard that's kind of a limited resource these days. Food and, uh. [He squints at something.] Neosporin. If anyone, y'know, needs that.

[Yeah, he doesn't get it either. He jerks off frame for a moment, face buried in his elbow. It's not enough to fully stifle the ragged, fierce coughs that leave his shoulders shuddering. Finally, signs of life trickle back through the feed, albeit muffled and with their subject mostly lurched off camera as he mutters in his more characteristic deadpan, wearily sardonic, 'so-done-with-this-shit' tone.]

Also. If anyone happens to have some aspirin on them, that'd be great.

[There's the rattling of trembling, uncoordinated fingertips trying to navigate the tablet, and the feed snaps off.]

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[His eyebrows glide up with a remarkable precision, given that his head's pounding and he feels like he's dying. It sure got people's attention, and the quicker he gets responses, the more likely he is to get his hands on what he needs.]

It's like all-purpose supernatural protection, basically. Precautionary measure.

[Hey, she's just stating a fact. Sure, it might get people's attention. It also might start a panic because they're all locked in a hotel with someone who looks like he's about to die.

Pretty sure no one wants whatever he has.]

The Doctor never mentioned that. [Of course, he also didn't talk about the supernatural so much as the alien. But small details.] How does that work, then?

[Yes, she does expect him to actually answer that. Why salt? What does the salt do? The important questions.]

Keeps stuff like ghosts out. Demons, vengeful spirits, the works. S'a good failsafe.

[You know, normal everyday stuff.

He squints. His brain's still catching up with his ears.]

Uh. What doctor?

['Doctor' sounds like a good word right about now. So does 'painkiller' and 'aspirin' and anything following that general theme.]

[That's interesting and all but...doesn't actually answer her question.]

Ghosts don't like salt?

[Frowning. Isn't he supposed to be the one who's confused here? But the Doctor, the Doctor's something she can talk about. Even if she is trying not to think too hard about the fact she hasn't seen him in a few weeks now.]

Just The Doctor. I traveled with him.

[And that probably explained nothing.].

Sorta? [He's trying for accompanying hand gestures with limited success. Proprioception is hard with Hellgates Fever.] It - it repels them. They literally can't touch it, like, it burns them. Demons too.

[He blinks, head going to one side, marginally amused.]

Gee, can you vague that up some? 'Doctor' isn't all that descriptive a term, you realize that, right?

[Much better. Now was that so hard?]

Good to know.

[And her feelings about salt may be forever altered.]

Oh, but it is. [Completely failing at the whole mysterious thing.] That's his name, The Doctor.

[He's starting to actually get a kick out of this. Ambiguity is practically his second language (or fourth, right after profanity and sarcasm) and, really, 'doctor' just isn't all that descriptive. That's like calling Sam 'the Hunter' or Cas 'the Angel'.]

So what happens when he ends up in a doctor's office or something? Does everyone get on his case or what?

Edited 2015-05-21 20:05 (UTC)

Don't think he actually goes to doctor's offices. Wouldn't know what to do if he did.

[And how does she make that sound so serious and thoughtful.]

Doctor is the only name he needs. [She senses there's still some confusion here.] That's what he does. Helps people.

Rrrrrrright, okay. [So it's like a codename? Maybe? Is that a thing?] 'Help' like - in what sense?

['Help' as in 'slaughtering demons aplenty', or is it more of the 'let me handily cure this epidemic' variety, essentially.]

[He could probably do both, to be honest.]

He does a bit of everything, really. With aliens, mostly.

[It's okay to say that here, right? People knew about aliens. Some of them, anyway.]

[Aliens, huh. Well, thanks to Gamora, 'by the way, aliens' is not an alarming prospect anymore. Not as alarming, anyway. Sam kind of wants to know if this 'doctor' is also noticeably virescent.]

Uh-huh. [Furrowed brow. Okay. Juuuust give him a minute.] Aliens are a bit outta my purview. I'll stick to Earth. [His expression shifts, unsettled.] ...Assuming we're on Earth. [Because, really, who knows.]

The Doctor wasn't sure. [She obviously trusts the Doctor. Maybe more than anyone else in the whole universe. But then she frowns a bit, the tiniest hint of worry in her expression.] Haven't seen him in a while though.

What, he was here too? [It's the tiniest hope that he'll get some answers, damnit, that dies almost immediately.] Don't people just - disappear sometimes?

[Not entirely reassuring, he knows, but it's what he's been hearing through the proverbial grapevine.]

Sometimes. [She gives a little shrug, but she's clearly still upset about the fact he's missing.] Was hoping he wouldn't be one of them.

[Sure, Jack had made a point once that he had a better chance of saving them from the outside. But in her experience, they all have a better chance of surviving when the Doctor's around.

In any case,]

He wasn't here long.

I'm sorry. [He doesn't know the guy, but Sam still sounds like he means it. It helps to have someone you know around, he knows. Hell, even Gabriel makes it feel a little less isolated here, insufferable dick that he is.] You and him from the same world, then?

[Another small shrug, trying oh so hard to pretend she isn't as bothered by it as she is. And failing miserably. When he asks if they're from the same world though, she can't help but smile, with just a hint of amusement.]

I did mention aliens? [She knows that isn't exactly what he means, but it's the answer he gets.] We traveled around together, the Doctor and me, all of time and space. He's my best friend in the whole universe.

I just mean like - same whole universe, you know. [But she gets his drift, clearly. Traveling space and time, it sounds nice. Nicer than traveling backroads and highways in search of creepy shit.]

Maybe he'll turn up? [It's not really a hopeful hope, but it's something. He doesn't know how the mechanics of this place work, not really.]

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