Character Development
Loyalty - Dean
"Man, Cas, you are a fucking godsend," Dean laughed, patting his new friend heartily on the back.
Casper Collins had arrived in the Hangar mere days ago, unfortunately accompanied by Dean's father. How a guy like Cas could have ever been friends with Landon Cassidy was beyond Dean's level of comprehension, but he wasn't going to ask. He wasn't going to ruin this blossoming friendship with one of the only straight men in his inner-circle. Cas was American, equipped with all the cool qualities Americans seemed to have: laid-back demeanors and a gung-ho need to gun people down to "protect freedom."
"Nah," Cas laughed. "Thanks, dude, but I think that's a bit of an exaggeration." Cas enjoyed Dean's company. He found that Dean was probably the coolest and friendliest person in the entire Brotherhood. Granted, Casper also thought that Dean wasn't exactly a person he wanted to get mad, especially since Dean stood at 6'5" and was built like a brick shithouse. Cas wasn't exactly prepared to take a hit from Dean Cassidy and probably wouldn't ever be, but he was feeling a little more open around him, and he was feeling like perhaps he didn't have to be so careful around his new friend.
From over his shoulder, Cas could see a girl approaching them. She was tall, very thin. Her head was shaved, but her eyes were big, blue, and distracting. Small, tiny white splotches decorated her forearms in the form of small scars, probably from burns. Casper had read about her, and he knew well enough what the League did to rebels. Enough of his own men had been sent over to the interrogation center, though none of his made it out.
"Muscles," she squeaked, tapping Dean gently on the shoulder, looking up at him with those eyes, pleading for attention. "Do you have a moment, I just..." Her voice shook and trembled. She was scared. Meek. By what, neither of them knew. Neither of them seemed too concerned.
Dean turned his head a bit to look down at her. "Can it wait, Blondie?" he asked. "Kind of in the middle of something here." He turned to look at Cas with a cheeky grin. "Anyway, Cas, like I was saying, you're one of the only people worth talking to in this entire place." He laughed. Cas laughed. The girl stood and stared up at Dean with slight shock as her hand fell back to her side. One step at a time, she backed up until she finally turned and headed back to the room she appeared from, shoulders hunched over and head toward the floor. "So, Blondie--" Dean went to ask, went to turn, only to find that she had walked away. "Damn, where'd she go?"
"Who cares?" Cas scoffed. "Don't worry about her." He shrugged his shoulders. "Girls are fuckin' ridiculous. They're so clingy sometimes, like how the fuck do you get away from them? I would take this opportunity and run, man."
"Nah, Blondie's not like that," Dean argued calmly, looking around to see where the girl had gone.
"Really? She seems it," Casper commented. "Comin' up here, interruptin' conversation--"
There was no hesitation when Dean's fist crashed into Casper's nose.
Casper Collins had arrived in the Hangar mere days ago, unfortunately accompanied by Dean's father. How a guy like Cas could have ever been friends with Landon Cassidy was beyond Dean's level of comprehension, but he wasn't going to ask. He wasn't going to ruin this blossoming friendship with one of the only straight men in his inner-circle. Cas was American, equipped with all the cool qualities Americans seemed to have: laid-back demeanors and a gung-ho need to gun people down to "protect freedom."
"Nah," Cas laughed. "Thanks, dude, but I think that's a bit of an exaggeration." Cas enjoyed Dean's company. He found that Dean was probably the coolest and friendliest person in the entire Brotherhood. Granted, Casper also thought that Dean wasn't exactly a person he wanted to get mad, especially since Dean stood at 6'5" and was built like a brick shithouse. Cas wasn't exactly prepared to take a hit from Dean Cassidy and probably wouldn't ever be, but he was feeling a little more open around him, and he was feeling like perhaps he didn't have to be so careful around his new friend.
From over his shoulder, Cas could see a girl approaching them. She was tall, very thin. Her head was shaved, but her eyes were big, blue, and distracting. Small, tiny white splotches decorated her forearms in the form of small scars, probably from burns. Casper had read about her, and he knew well enough what the League did to rebels. Enough of his own men had been sent over to the interrogation center, though none of his made it out.
"Muscles," she squeaked, tapping Dean gently on the shoulder, looking up at him with those eyes, pleading for attention. "Do you have a moment, I just..." Her voice shook and trembled. She was scared. Meek. By what, neither of them knew. Neither of them seemed too concerned.
Dean turned his head a bit to look down at her. "Can it wait, Blondie?" he asked. "Kind of in the middle of something here." He turned to look at Cas with a cheeky grin. "Anyway, Cas, like I was saying, you're one of the only people worth talking to in this entire place." He laughed. Cas laughed. The girl stood and stared up at Dean with slight shock as her hand fell back to her side. One step at a time, she backed up until she finally turned and headed back to the room she appeared from, shoulders hunched over and head toward the floor. "So, Blondie--" Dean went to ask, went to turn, only to find that she had walked away. "Damn, where'd she go?"
"Who cares?" Cas scoffed. "Don't worry about her." He shrugged his shoulders. "Girls are fuckin' ridiculous. They're so clingy sometimes, like how the fuck do you get away from them? I would take this opportunity and run, man."
"Nah, Blondie's not like that," Dean argued calmly, looking around to see where the girl had gone.
"Really? She seems it," Casper commented. "Comin' up here, interruptin' conversation--"
There was no hesitation when Dean's fist crashed into Casper's nose.