The question he was thinking over was what was she, if not human. His first bet was demon, seeing as how Yellow-Eyes was on the prowl and he usually had some of his black-eyed friends with him. If she was a demon, she was surprisingly self-controlled though - all the ones he'd met were hell-bent on death and destruction and not sitting around just talking. He knew they were lying bastards too, smart, but if she was tryin' to get under his skin, she was going through a roundabout way to get to the damn point. Even that Crossroads Bitch didn't take this long; she'd come at him with her claws out from the get-go and started talking about Sammy's body like it was just a slab of meat - he'd been two seconds away from exorcising that smug smile off her skanky face, but then he'd thought about what it would be like to keep living without his brother. He'd folded a lot faster there than here.
Still, if Kisugi was a demon, he'd have to make sure. It wasn't like he had holy water on him, which meant he had to improvise. Dean reached out and helped himself to a notepad from the desk, leaning back to use his knee to prop it up as he scrawled something out on the paper.
"I just don't see how this truth is supposed to help things," Dean didn't look up, writing on the notepad with one of the stolen pencils. "So I stabbed myself in the chest. How do you know that's not givin' me ideas now?"
Apparently unhappy with what he wrote, Dean tore off the first sheet, crumpled it, and carelessly tossed it over his shoulder. It missed the wastebasket entirely. He went through a few more pages before he'd written it exactly to his satisfaction. Looking it over, he clicked his tongue against his teeth, and suddenly held out the notepad to Doctor Kisugi. There was only one word on the paper, despite all his writing. Dean flashed his most charming smile at Kisugi, the kind he usually reserved for the chicks he knew were more than willing to put out and not to ice queens who might be a hunt in herself.
"Hey, do me a favor, will you? I think I just remembered the name of my mom's old dog, but my memory's fuzzy on how the name's pronounced. He used to mean a lot to my brother and I. We practically grew up with him."
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Still, if Kisugi was a demon, he'd have to make sure. It wasn't like he had holy water on him, which meant he had to improvise. Dean reached out and helped himself to a notepad from the desk, leaning back to use his knee to prop it up as he scrawled something out on the paper.
"I just don't see how this truth is supposed to help things," Dean didn't look up, writing on the notepad with one of the stolen pencils. "So I stabbed myself in the chest. How do you know that's not givin' me ideas now?"
Apparently unhappy with what he wrote, Dean tore off the first sheet, crumpled it, and carelessly tossed it over his shoulder. It missed the wastebasket entirely. He went through a few more pages before he'd written it exactly to his satisfaction. Looking it over, he clicked his tongue against his teeth, and suddenly held out the notepad to Doctor Kisugi. There was only one word on the paper, despite all his writing. Dean flashed his most charming smile at Kisugi, the kind he usually reserved for the chicks he knew were more than willing to put out and not to ice queens who might be a hunt in herself.
"Hey, do me a favor, will you? I think I just remembered the name of my mom's old dog, but my memory's fuzzy on how the name's pronounced. He used to mean a lot to my brother and I. We practically grew up with him."