"I...don't think I've heard of that, actually." He has to rack his brain, but it was a few years ago that he'd been. It sounds pretty cool, though something in him is cringing at the word 'totes'.
"We mostly just did a tour of one of the studios. My brother was bored, but I thought it was fun." And a case had actually been there, of course, but honestly that just made the whole experience that much better. Working onset? Meeting Tara? Hell yeah.
She loved sets. The fantasy and sci-fi ones were great, but it was the modern stuff that really got her. It was like a small opportunity to play make-believe, to live the life she should have known instead of the shitshow that was Cainite existence.
Diana could be Lucy Ricardo.
Or Abigail Adams.
Or anyone else who had a true love waiting for her.
"I've worked on a couple of movies," she said coyly. "Back in the day. I was the on-set musician for a hot second."
"Me too. Hellhazers II, the Reckoning. I wasn't in it, but I did a lot of PA work. It was kinda fun. They told me I was the best PA ever." Moooostly because he saved a bunch of collective asses, but. You know. Semantics.
"Hellhazers?" She wrinkled her nose, hoping to look more adorable than judgy. Although she was maybe a little bit judgy. "Sounds like one of those series? Horney teenagers who are punished for having sex? Except for one, cute, blond virgin who makes it all the way to the end?"
Yeah, she was familiar with slasher movies.
Mostly because her sister watched them to get a big laugh.
"Eh, yes and no. Lead is Tara, a brunette, and I actually ended up giving a lot of input to the director as to the final cuts. I think it ended up being rated the best in the series, actually."
Despite the director being privy to finally knowing what's out there and instead of doing anything helpful, he made bank on it, Dean was kinda proud their innovation ended up in the film.
Diana knew a lot of directors. And most of them had a little bit too much of an ego to take input from a PA. So either this was a unicorn, or Dean was trying to impress her.
Kind of a cute flex. Not one that Diana saw a lot.
"Well," she said, "brunettes are sexier." As she flipped her own brunette hair back, over her shoulder.
Unicorn, definitely. Dean's lost too many spoons being on this damn bota to
worry about impressing people. Then again, if it gets him cute points, who
is he to complain?
"I gotta agree with you," he says with a grin, chuckling a little when she
flips her hair. He does tend to have a weakness for people with
darker hair.
"Good." Glad they could agree on that, because they certainly didn't share similar taste in movies. Call her basic, she still thought Moulin Rouge was sexy. Sexy leads. Sexy songs. Sexy kissing.
*Moulin Rouge was definitely sexy, that they can agree on.
"Well...it's kind of a weird story. My brother went through something
pretty traumatic, so I dragged him to Hollywood for a vacation. We were on
a tour, and we just kinda...got off the cart and wandered on set."
There's more to it, stuff Dean doesn't necessarily want to get into.
Madison had smarted for them both, and when he tells people he's a hunter
and they were working on a ghost case, they tend not to believe him. And,
here, there's a whole lotta things he would've hunte back home, so it
doesn't particularly serve him or do him any favors to say 'oh yeah, we
hunted wolves and vamps and monsters!'.
Still, ghosts may be safe, so he adds;
"The set was actually haunted, legitimately. And we ended up taking care
of it."
She started to laugh at the idea of two bumpkins wandering off of the studio tour and ended up PAs. But just as she was starting to smile, he had to go and say the word 'haunted.'
Diana took ghosts extremely seriously. After what happened in Phoenix, she couldn't...not.
"Haunted," she murmured. "Poltergeist or vengeful spirit? I mean, those movie sets are safer now, but they were absolutely death traps back in the day."
"Neither, actually. The guy who wrote the script was pissed about the changes the producer and director made, so he worked some hoodoo black magic, and ended up imprisoning a bunch of spirits who weren't even hanging around, and made them kill people. Once we figured that out, he tried to kill us but, uh."
He cringes a little.
"He broke the talisman, freed the spirits, and they were just pissed enough to kill him, then dissipate."
Oh merde. That sounded like some Giovanni bullshit. But why hadn't she heard about it? When shenanigans like that went down in Hollywood, Liam usually found out about it pretty quickly. He usually sent someone to deal with it.
Diana was pretty sure that Dean Winchester and his traumatized brother weren't on Liam's speed dial.
And yeah, yeah, she was working to wrap her brain around the notion of different universes and all that. But it didn't take away what was suddenly a very, very important question: How did this guy know about the supernatural?
"The screenwriter summoned ghosts. That's...disturbing."
But in her experience, it was usually a Cainite. She was working on accepting the fact that Cainites weren't all the same in all universes. Her angry Care Bear of a room mate was proof of that. Still. Cainites sucked.
No pun intended.
She exhaled slowly. "Yeah. Well. The usual methods for dealing with ghosts don't seem to work here on this ship."
"Yeah, I wouldn't recommend trying to burn things on a boat. I know it's not all made of wood, but still..."
They had limited options for escape.
Okay, time to get to business. She sat up straight, planting her hands on her knees. "You know a lot about the supernatural," she said. "More the average bear. What's up with that?"
In a way, Diana's father had also brought her up on a steady diet of ghost stories, myths, and legends. The difference, perhaps being that he'd told them all, not believing for a second that any of it could be true.
The joke had been on all of them.
"You sound a little more hands-on than a scholar," she said. "I don't know a lot of students who actually consider salting and burning bodies." Maybe students of the Order. But they were a particularly special group of young people.
"Definitely not a scholar, God no," he laughs, shaking his head.
"Nah..my brother's the smart one. Wanted to be a lawyer. But, no. We didn't just study it. We took care of problems like that for a living. Saved a lotta people doing it."
She thought about making the easy joke, about how smart people rarely wanted to be lawyers. But there was too much going through her mind. It was churning. And it was churning out some kind of scary possibilities.
One particular possibility she was probably in denial about...
"You're better off without the tropes," she replied. Anyway, the Ghostbusters were kind of skeezy. Especially the one played by Bill Murray. She'd only seen the movie once, but that whole electroshock just to get laid was all kinds of bad touch.
She hadn't even bothered with the sequel.
"And I think the van was a hearse so...hard pass. There are only so many vehicles cool enough for a gig like that, and a hearse ain't one."
In spite of herself, Diana's eyes lit up. She had a lot of vices. Most of them were well-known: Sex, honesty, attention, showtunes, and occasionally reverting to a ten-year-old version of herself.
Less known, however?
"A muscle car! I love the '67! Do you have the 250ci six-cylinder unit or the 283ci V8?"
Yes, that was what she asked. Not the color, not the value, not the condition. Diana Amelia Abel knew a thing or two about engines. Couldn't do any actual repair work to save her unlife. But you couldn't spend as much time in a trucking union as she had without picking up...everything.
The invention of the automobile had been so liberating for her, back in the day. A way to travel fast. A way to move. It made her feel alive in a way that she hadn't expected.
He grins, because he does love talking about his car. Sam likes it well enough, drove it around for four months while Dean was dead, but Dean loves his car.
"She's got a 327 Engine and a Four Barrel Carburetor, and a 502-cubic-inch big-block V8. She got smashed up a few years ago, so I rebuilt her."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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"We mostly just did a tour of one of the studios. My brother was bored, but I thought it was fun." And a case had actually been there, of course, but honestly that just made the whole experience that much better. Working onset? Meeting Tara? Hell yeah.
no subject
She loved sets. The fantasy and sci-fi ones were great, but it was the modern stuff that really got her. It was like a small opportunity to play make-believe, to live the life she should have known instead of the shitshow that was Cainite existence.
Diana could be Lucy Ricardo.
Or Abigail Adams.
Or anyone else who had a true love waiting for her.
"I've worked on a couple of movies," she said coyly. "Back in the day. I was the on-set musician for a hot second."
no subject
He grins, perking a bit.
"Me too. Hellhazers II, the Reckoning. I wasn't in it, but I did a lot of PA work. It was kinda fun. They told me I was the best PA ever." Moooostly because he saved a bunch of collective asses, but. You know. Semantics.
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Yeah, she was familiar with slasher movies.
Mostly because her sister watched them to get a big laugh.
no subject
Despite the director being privy to finally knowing what's out there and instead of doing anything helpful, he made bank on it, Dean was kinda proud their innovation ended up in the film.
no subject
Kind of a cute flex. Not one that Diana saw a lot.
"Well," she said, "brunettes are sexier." As she flipped her own brunette hair back, over her shoulder.
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Unicorn, definitely. Dean's lost too many spoons being on this damn bota to worry about impressing people. Then again, if it gets him cute points, who is he to complain?
"I gotta agree with you," he says with a grin, chuckling a little when she flips her hair. He does tend to have a weakness for people with darker hair.
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...slightly less-than-sexy consumption.
But era appropriate.
"How'd you end up PA on a horror movie?"
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*Moulin Rouge was definitely sexy, that they can agree on.
"Well...it's kind of a weird story. My brother went through something pretty traumatic, so I dragged him to Hollywood for a vacation. We were on a tour, and we just kinda...got off the cart and wandered on set."
There's more to it, stuff Dean doesn't necessarily want to get into. Madison had smarted for them both, and when he tells people he's a hunter and they were working on a ghost case, they tend not to believe him. And, here, there's a whole lotta things he would've hunte back home, so it doesn't particularly serve him or do him any favors to say 'oh yeah, we hunted wolves and vamps and monsters!'.
Still, ghosts may be safe, so he adds;
"The set was actually haunted, legitimately. And we ended up taking care of it."
no subject
Diana took ghosts extremely seriously. After what happened in Phoenix, she couldn't...not.
"Haunted," she murmured. "Poltergeist or vengeful spirit? I mean, those movie sets are safer now, but they were absolutely death traps back in the day."
Which was to say...she took him seriously.
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"Neither, actually. The guy who wrote the script was pissed about the changes the producer and director made, so he worked some hoodoo black magic, and ended up imprisoning a bunch of spirits who weren't even hanging around, and made them kill people. Once we figured that out, he tried to kill us but, uh."
He cringes a little.
"He broke the talisman, freed the spirits, and they were just pissed enough to kill him, then dissipate."
no subject
Diana was pretty sure that Dean Winchester and his traumatized brother weren't on Liam's speed dial.
And yeah, yeah, she was working to wrap her brain around the notion of different universes and all that. But it didn't take away what was suddenly a very, very important question: How did this guy know about the supernatural?
"The screenwriter summoned ghosts. That's...disturbing."
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He grunts a little, and nods.
"Yeah, tell me about it. Sometimes normal people stumble on shit they shouldn't, and then they make huge messes they don't know how to clean up."
no subject
But in her experience, it was usually a Cainite. She was working on accepting the fact that Cainites weren't all the same in all universes. Her angry Care Bear of a room mate was proof of that. Still. Cainites sucked.
No pun intended.
She exhaled slowly. "Yeah. Well. The usual methods for dealing with ghosts don't seem to work here on this ship."
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Plus, he kinda thinks they're the ghosts of old passengers, which makes it all kinds of weird.
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They had limited options for escape.
Okay, time to get to business. She sat up straight, planting her hands on her knees. "You know a lot about the supernatural," she said. "More the average bear. What's up with that?"
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"That's also a concern of mine, yeah."
He hesitates a little, then just gives up and shrugs.
"I was raised learning about it. My dad taught me everything I know about ghosts, spirits, monsters."
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The joke had been on all of them.
"You sound a little more hands-on than a scholar," she said. "I don't know a lot of students who actually consider salting and burning bodies." Maybe students of the Order. But they were a particularly special group of young people.
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"Nah..my brother's the smart one. Wanted to be a lawyer. But, no. We didn't just study it. We took care of problems like that for a living. Saved a lotta people doing it."
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One particular possibility she was probably in denial about...
"So you're like...Ghostbusters?"
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"Uh, yeah. Kinda, I guess. Without the van and all the tropes."
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She hadn't even bothered with the sequel.
"And I think the van was a hearse so...hard pass. There are only so many vehicles cool enough for a gig like that, and a hearse ain't one."
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"Yeah, it was a little...I dunno. Too on the nose? Nah. We use my car, instead. It's a '67 Impala. My dad gave it to me on my eighteenth birthday."
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Less known, however?
"A muscle car! I love the '67! Do you have the 250ci six-cylinder unit or the 283ci V8?"
Yes, that was what she asked. Not the color, not the value, not the condition. Diana Amelia Abel knew a thing or two about engines. Couldn't do any actual repair work to save her unlife. But you couldn't spend as much time in a trucking union as she had without picking up...everything.
The invention of the automobile had been so liberating for her, back in the day. A way to travel fast. A way to move. It made her feel alive in a way that she hadn't expected.
She friggin' loved cars.
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"She's got a 327 Engine and a Four Barrel Carburetor, and a 502-cubic-inch big-block V8. She got smashed up a few years ago, so I rebuilt her."
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