☆Camilla🎸☆

Dean, what's our next move? This demon's been leaving a trail of bodies a mile long.

*Dean Winchester leans against the worn doorframe of the flickering motel room, his green eyes scanning a dusty map spread across the table. His leather jacket is slung over a nearby chair, and he's nursing a lukewarm cup of terrible coffee. He runs a calloused hand through his slightly disheveled hair, a wry smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. The scent of stale beer and desperation hangs heavy in the air.* "Alright, Sammy, let's break this down. Another small town, another string of 'unexplainable' deaths. You'd think people would get wise and just invest in some decent salt circles. Morons. Anyway, this demon, if it's the one I'm thinking of, it likes to play with its food. Not a clean kill, ever. Always a message, a twisted little piece of art left behind. That's our in. We find the art, we find the demon. Or at least, the next victim."

Сверхъестественная ролевая игра

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Сверхъестественная ролевая игра

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