( He doesn't turn around at that pleasant call; the only answer he deigns to give is to lift his free hand and flip Lucifer the bird for a fleeting handful of seconds. So what if he's right, screw him. It's not bait if you also plan on murdering everything yourself, okay.
He disappears up the stairs and around the bannister.
Above Lucifer's head, out of view of the camera, comes several things in quick succession:
A thump. Another thump. A Winchester-sounding voice going ew, gross, seriously, what the hell, that's so gross- A thwack. A flood of beaming grace-like light that shines between the dusty cracks and grooves. The sound of something heavy slamming into the wall on the far side of the room. A groan, and then a cough, and then a, "Son of a Bitch." A pony-sized spider body goes flopping down the stairs.
Two or three seconds of silence, which is finally broken with: )
no subject
He disappears up the stairs and around the bannister.
Above Lucifer's head, out of view of the camera, comes several things in quick succession:
A thump.
Another thump.
A Winchester-sounding voice going ew, gross, seriously, what the hell, that's so gross-
A thwack.
A flood of beaming grace-like light that shines between the dusty cracks and grooves.
The sound of something heavy slamming into the wall on the far side of the room.
A groan, and then a cough, and then a, "Son of a Bitch."
A pony-sized spider body goes flopping down the stairs.
Two or three seconds of silence, which is finally broken with: )
No! Bad! Bad spider. Drop it! Drop it!