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Rachel has yet to find what useful purpose Dean serves to this world or any other. So far his driving skills, propensity for violence, and taste in music has been far outweighed by the pure annoying of his personality.

The number of punches she's dealt his shoulder has multiplied ever since she hit her head, too. Maybe Jo was attracted to men that tried to baby her but Rachel would take a monster over a concerned individual any day of the week.

Which is why she had no problem with stealing one of Dean's guns after they'd made camp and he'd gone off to-- do whatever it was he was going to do. Se has her own, of course, but it doesn't serve her purpose.

It isn't shiny.

"Mort?" Rachel frowns and glances over her shoulder to make sure no one's around to see her acting like a crazy woman, talking to a gun. "C'mon, I need to talk to you."

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"The hawk to the north, is a she."

Rachel stares at the gun, at the reflected, mutated face formed by the ridges in the barrel.

"But... but the one going south, that one's male? And he talks in people's heads?"

"Male, talks in peoples heads. Calls itself a Daemon."

"...a what?"

This is, perhaps, not information that Rachel had thought of before running off to California.

"Daemon?" Mort shrugs. "Something to do with the soul, it seems."

Rachel stares at him, face crumpled and broken.

Before her jaw sets and her eyes flash furiously.

"Was there... I don't know..." she shrugs, head tilting to the side.

"ANY OTHER TIME YOU MIGHT HAVE MENTIONED THIS?!"

"When you asked?" His eyes return to their normal brown. "I'm not a mindreader, you know."

Rachel is never worshipping this guy. ~~Because he's right and she should have been more specific and of course Tobias isn't here, he doesn't belong here with people like-~~

"Fuck," Rachel breathes, dropping the gun down to her side and rubbing her eyes with a hand. Even without a plan, even with traveling with Dean and not knowing where Jo is, when she'd had a goal, it had been kind of... bearable.

Edited 2008-09-08 18:50 (UTC)

"However..."

Morts voice trails off.

"No you wouldn't care to know."

The gun is lifted immediately, Rachel's lost expression replaced with a steely glare.

"I am so not in the mood for manipulative crap - However what?"

There is a seventyfive percent change of a mind speaking Hawk that answers to the name of Tobias and can change his shape arriving in the area of Kansas within the next two years. But I'm sure you don't care about that."

Rachel stares and gapes at him for a moment, gaze slowly dropping - and lifting a hand to shove her hair back when that makes it fall in her face. "So... there's a good chance he could show up in Kansas within the next two years but you can't narrow it down anymore than twenty-four months? Or-- how is he going to get here?"

"Same way you did." Mort smirks.

And that just makes her scowl.

"Ellimist," she growls, glaring at the gun - not so much Mort, just that the gun is right in front of her and a great object for glaring. "He can't, Tobias doesn't... can I stop it?"

"No one can stop it. Well..." His eyes do that silvery thing again. "Not yet anyways."

"When? And how?"

"The right people have to show up. The right situations have to come to pass.It is not something which can be forced."

He pauses, thinking it over. "But you might help it along if you happened to be at the Cooper farm on October 31st."

Rachel frowns, gaze drifting. "...Okay. Two questions. Will I be 'helping' him come here, or 'helping' to keep it from happening?

"And how am I supposed to know what the date is?"

"Today is the seventh of September." A straightforward answer, there you go.

"You would be helping to ensure others do not arrive here."

The frown stays - but it's a little different. More worried, less angry.

"Okay."

"Thanks."

Like pulling teeth, that was.

Mort nods his head, and is gone. He's actually been a lot more straight forward with her then any of his actual worshippers. Probably because she's a PC, no N.

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