Jason was a bit out of sorts when he arrived on scene. He wasn't exactly the most sober.  To most 3 AM was a Witching Hour, to Jason, despite being a witch himself, saw it as his bitchin' hour. The horrific things he saw on the job drove him to drink, and being the kind of person who makes friends with everyone at a bar sort of exacerbates that. He had been for sure he was going to have the following day off, but the supernatural hated being ignored it seemed. Some of those on the scene gave him side eyes as they smelled the alcohol on him. Used to such reactions by "professionals" he largely ignored it and just focused on being as sober as possible when he arrived.

The wreck itself was a sobering sight itself, whether that was a good or bad thing for him. The way it seemed ripped apart gave him some reservations, but he HAD seen worse. Bloodied dens of cultist with entrails stapled to walls, flesh literally melting off some shapeshifters, and roaming spirits from the underworld; often appearing how they died; that often carried messages from Hades when the god cared to pay attention to Jason. Whatever gore was at the end of this road wasn't going to be that terrible to him. Jason had gotten sidetracked with this thought, but it did lead to a decent avenue of investigation, one he was sure Sam was going to pursue in her own way.

Psychopomps of all kinds will be hanging around or leaving traces behind at scenes like these if someone died, and Jason wanted to be aware of their presence if they were here. Jason walked from the road to the wreckage, waving a hand and a smile at Clint on his way and taking inventory of how the other Sentinels were behaving. He walked up to the driver's side just after Sam had left it, nodding at her in case she noticed him. The driver's side was the best place to start if they had died, so Jason made sure nobody was paying too much attention and started his work.

Jason reached his left hand into a messenger bag that he had slung over his shoulder, a large brown-leather piece that every Sentinel knew to be curious about. He pulled out a small vial of some greyish paste made with a blend of mushrooms and laurel (bay) leaves and uncorked the archaicly-bottled concoction. He brought it to his lips and closed his eyes, blowing ever so quietly over the bottle before dumping part of the salve in his left palm before returning the salve to his bag. Jason then rubbed the salve into his fingers and then underneath is eyes, nose, and behind his ears. While the magic wouldn't give him the same specialty Sam had when it came to the dead and dying, it would allow him to become aware of the astral plane without having to necessarily enter it, which also meant he couldn't directly interact with it unless he used more magic. The purpose to this, of course, was that psychopomps travelled in the astral. Once the salve was applied correctly Jason let his chi reach out into the world around him, aided by his salve.

[i]Meanwhile, overhead in the sky, dark as the knight sky and flying by the light of the moon, was Astra. Along with cats and dogs, crows were well known natural psychopomps. Since she noticed what Jason was doing, and be known she was very aware of what exactly he was doing, she had every intention on helping.[/i]