sixwordstories | (no subject)

These two... issues. [He points to a newspaper on the table- did you know it was talking about a rash of matricides? Because even if it wasn't, it is now.]

They will occur again tomorrow night, and not all will survive such. Four... five or so.

Just babes they are. The choices their mothers make...

[Now you've got his attention. Dean turns the paper around so he can read it himself, forehead creasing into a frown] How're the mothers dyin'?

Do you not know your English M'sieur?

They are murdered, killed and destroyed. [He knows what the article says, he was there when it was written. (And when the cause for it to be written happened as well).] Can you imagine what... anger? Hate? Fear must have occurred for these deaths?

[A finger passes over one of the names listed- Amy Calbot, age 25] Her child was put up for adoption 11 years ago... she never even saw him til he held a revolver.

[Dean pulls a face at that] Yeah buddy, I get that. M'just wondering if there's any link. If they're all dying the same way or not. Are they all adopted? Do they all come after their mothers with guns? That kind of detail is important.

[and if it's starting again he's going to be really fucking pissed with someone]

Oh but M'sieur, who am I to know such details? Hmm? [He grins a bit and assumes the role of a bus-boy. (Though really, who buses a table wearing a fedora? Papa Ge is not perfect, sadly.]

Perhaps you should go ask the police...

An' why bring this to my attention?

So you are not interested? Fair enough. [He moves to take up the newspaper.]

It is your choice after all M'sieur. Not mine.

Hey, no. [Dean reaches out for the newspaper, fixing him with a look] Never said I wasn't interested. I'm just askin' why me? I don't know you from Jack an' you're tellin' me about freak murders.

[No one ever said that Papa Ge had to tell the truth, and he really has no intention of starting now.]

M'sieur, my people clam The Antilles, Haiti as their home and we.... know things. Oui? I know you'd notice, and care.

[He pulls a cigar out of his coat pocket, ignoring both the 'no smoking' signs and the fact that by all laws of nature, it should not already be lit. Somehow, no one else beyond Dean even notices he is there. Uncanny, huh?]

[Dean notices all of this, ducking his head to peer cautiously at the whole area around him. He knows he should be a little freaked that none of the other patrons see anything so he narrows his eyes at Papa Ge]

So what, you're jus' some helpful spirit pointin' me down the right road?

Non M'sieur, I never point I simply... indicate. The choice is yours, which road to take, which sun to follow. Why would it matter to me?

[Papa Ge grins, and tips his hat slightly]

I hope to see you again M'sieur Winchester, very soon.

[Dean looks like he's about to argue some more before he nods. He might as well check it out, it come be something serious and he's not about to have that on his conscious] All right.