From the Midnight Sun || Closed

Sam sighed from the passenger seat of the Impala, closing his laptop from the latest omen he was researching on and shoved it into his backpack. The rain was coming down in buckets and he was sure that was why they had to find a backup hotel. The road to the other hotel had been washed out by this near Biblical storm. The dreary weather put a damper on their already sour moods. Lucifer was walking freely, bringing death and havoc everywhere he went, and he felt helpless to do anything about it. It was his fault he let "the big bad" out and he was bound to try and find a way to send him back where he belonged. Brushing a hand through his hair, he stared out the windshield, setting his jaw for a moment before glancing over at Dean. Before he could get a word out, someone on a motorcycle zoomed around them as they passed quickly, speeding off around a sharp curve. His brows lifted slightly in surprise, wondering who in their right mind would be on a motorcycle in this sort of rain and drive well above the speed limit.

As they turned the corner, a well lit building came into view and Sam read the sign out loud to Dean. "Elysium Fields," he murmured, brow furrowing slightly at the condition of the building. It looked far more well kept than their normal hotels and something in Sam's mind was wanting them to just keep driving on and find another one. "I guess this is better than any other motel," he said softly, glancing over at Dean for a moment. He didn't really feel much like resting for the night. The other horsemen were out there and the more they sat on their thumbs, the more innocent people were going to die because of him.

---

This weather was for the dogs, Eris had decided, as she pulled her motorcycle into a parking spot far from the front of the hotel. She would have preferred a spot closer and definitely one underneath some sort of awning, but that was an issue she'd bring up at some other time. She leaned her antique Bonneville on it's kickstand, thankful she had worn her waterproof riding clothes. She kept her helmet on as she slung a messenger bag over her shoulder, marching up to the front door of the building and into the lobby. Her eyes roamed the room for a moment, noting just how spruced up the place was before stepping over to the front counter. With great disdain, she eyed the majordomo behind the counter, taking note of his name and knowing exactly who he was. He looked up from the computer with a grin to the woman before the smile slid from his face like water down glass. It was clear he recognized exactly who she was.

"Good evening, Chet," she spoke in a crisp, British accent, eyes alight with the prospect of turning this whole operation on it's side. She glanced around the room, noticing she had garnered quite a bit of attention. Eris was fairly tall and a full leather, oxblood colored catsuit wasn't exactly inconspicuous. She looked like a female villain out of a James Bond or Kill Bill movie and she was hiding her face, so that was bound to raise a couple of eyebrows.

"You're not supposed to be here," the man behind the counter hissed through clenched teeth. Eris let out a soft laugh, leaning over the counter as she watched him from behind the visor of her motorcycle helmet.

"You know how I get when I'm not invited, Chet," she purred, watching the man look her over. He opened his mouth to speak as she pulled off her gloves and set them on the counter, but she quickly cut him off. "I want a room for the night; the nicest one you have left. Deny me and I make a scene." The man looked stymied at her words, knowing the woman before him well enough that she needed to get what she wanted or face extreme consequences. He glanced around the lobby for a moment before looking at her once more.

"Ditch the helmet and we'll talk, you're making the guests uncomfortable," he pleaded quietly, eyes locked on her. Eris mused on his words for a moment, wondering what good could come from showing her face.