[hr] [center][img]https://txt.1001fonts.net/img/txt/b3RmLjEwNi5kYWE1MjAuVTNWc2JIa2dUV05RYUdWeWMyOXUuMA,,/roughsketch.regular.webp[/img][img]https://i.imgur.com/xHVRvPV.png[/img]
[h1]Dean[color=2e2c2c].[/color]Walker[/h1]
in collaboration w/ [@silvermist1116]
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[right]
[code]A Quiet Place To Chat. The Halloween Festival.[/code][/right][hr]

As Emily committed the heist of the century it begged the question: where was Sully? 

Sully was in trouble.

His eyes darted to and fro in near panic, searching for a solution that was not there. His teeth clenched, his knees trembled, and his muscles tightened. He felt like he was about to explode. It was funny how something as simple as an overfilled tank could immediately make him abandon his duties as head of the toga line. How the hell was every porta-john in the world either occupied or nuked to total oblivion? He moved with the energy of a nervous dancer as he threaded through the crowd, further and further away from his friends and the toga party. Alternatives began to play out in his mind. Trash can? No, too public. The last thing he needed was to get slapped with an indecent exposure charge. He was pretty sure that kind of thing could get you labeled as a sex offender, and try convincing somebody that it was only for taking a leak in public when his mugshot had a mustache. Subtly wade out into the ocean? No, he didn’t want to either piss on or piss off Poseidon. 

Head further and further away from everyone else until he found a grouping of trees thick enough to cover himself from any prying eyes? 

Now that couldn’t possibly go wrong. 

Sully did just that. He vanished into the treeline near the haunted house and hiked a couple hundred feet further into the woods, just in case someone spotted his shadow and thought Bigfoot was hanging around the Halloween Festival. He found a decent enough spot, bunched his toga up, leaned towards the tree to steady himself with his hand, and released a massive sigh of relief. Crisis averted. Sully absentmindedly motioned to dump a Chalice full of soapy water on his hands, only to realize he was Dionysus without his cup. He slapped his forehead, remembering that he’d left it with Drake in case he dropped it down the porta-john because no amount of self-cleaning would convince him that it would be safe to drink from the Chalice ever again if that happened. Okay, he just wouldn’t give out anymore high fives until he found some hand sanitizer. 

Sully turned to head back to the festival, and then turned again, and then turned back to the tree whose night he had ruined. His eyes narrowed. Right. The festival was over that way, wasn’t it? He began stomping through the forest in a drunken stupor, snapping twigs and crunching leaves.

Dean didn’t care for the festival. He’s aged out of all the bullshit kids got up to, but he’d gotten word from one of his dealers about seeing Sully here. After he found a picture of him on his social media, he spread that around to his people and told them to keep an eye out. He shadow stepped onto the dock. He remembered everything about the place. Island hasn’t changed in thirty years. He kept to quiet places, looking for Sully and found him in a conga line yelling “Toga!” with a bunch of other kids. He waited for him to separate. He was a patient guy. Meant nothing to him if it took hours or minutes. Sully finally branched off to go to the bathroom, he followed behind him into the forest and bided his time. He didn’t want his piss all over him, so he waited for him to finish peeing, before coming up behind him in the shadows.

He grabbed him and threw him into a tree. “Hey, Sully. Good to see you again. You ready to answer my questions this time?”

Sully’s first thought when he hit the tree was that he’d tripped over a particularly aggressive branch. The booze dampened enough of the blow that he wasn’t immediately stunned when he heard the sound of bark breaking behind him as his shoulder cracked into the tree. His second thought was why was it that everytime a strong and handsome biker pinned him to something it was never in the way he’d imagined it happening. His third thought when he realized the man was the same guy who’d shoved a gun in his mouth and kicked him in his teeth was oh shit. 

[color=goldenrod]“Oh hey buddy, yeah man, funny running into you here of all places. Questions?”[/color] said Sully, his words slurring together. [color=goldenrod]“Oh man, I'd love to answer some questions. Oh but I forgot!”[/color]

Sully pushed himself off of the tree and made a poor effort to try and stumble past Dean. He was almost cartoonishly drunk. He moved and spoke in such a way that he seemed less like an actual drunk person and more like a bad actor portraying a drunk in a made for TV movie. All that was missing was some hiccups and he’d be a total caricature. 

 [color=goldenrod]“I gotta lead a toga line. Hey man, you like to party? Only one rule. You gotta wear a toga, but it’s cool. I got one right here,”[/color] said Sully, patting his belly as if to suggest he was offering Dean the toga he was wearing. [color=goldenrod]“Hey what’s your name, man? You still got my jacket?”[/color]

Dean chuckled. Oh man, it’s been awhile since he’s had to deal with a drunk. Loved those times quite a bit. A bit of entertainment.

He pushed Sully back into the tree, this time he kept his hand on his shoulder and looked him right in his blurry eyes. Not every day he meets a man that’s as tall and as big as him. Given their first meeting and now, he gets the feeling Sully’s all fluff. Not much of a threat if he’s not gonna throw his weight around to protect himself.

He gave Sully a heavy handed slap to the face. Wouldn’t leave a mark, but it would sting. “Listen, Sully, focus. Now you seem like a nice and reasonable guy. Fucking drunk as hell, but still got your wits about you. How about you tell me where I can find Tayla Choi. About yeh high.” He lowered his hand to below his chin. “Asian, skinny as hell, but pretty cute. I’m sure you’ve seen her. You Coven yahoos had to have a meeting for you all to show up at the club that night. I bet she was there. Tell me what I wanna know and you’re free to go.”

Sully rubbed his cheek. Dean’s instincts were right in regards to Sully not being much of a fighter. Unless they were on a gridiron and a football was in Dean’s hands Sully was about as threatening as an overstuffed teddy bear. Outside of any kind of business involving a certain snake, Sully could count the number of fights he had been in as an adult on one finger and that had been with Dean last week. However, that didn’t mean he was a pacifist, and his hair wasn’t long enough for him to pretend he was dressed as Jesus. There would be no turning of the other cheek.

[color=goldenrod]“There was no meeting,”[/color] said Sully. Well, what he actually said sounded like “snow meeting”, but anyone not drunk would be able to get the point.  [color=goldenrod]“Is that how bikers do it? Have to have a meeting before heading to the titty bar? Y’all got someone who keeps minutes?”[/color] 

Sully saw the look in Dean’s eye and changed the subject before another slap came his way. 

[color=goldenrod]“Oh wait, you said Tayla [i]CHOI[/i]! Iheard you wrong the last time, must’ve been all the sand in my ears. Yeah, hold on, lemme think…”[/color]

Sully hadn’t been around when Tayla was at her lowest. He had heard this and that from Ashley and a few of the others he’d stayed in touch with, but his memory of Tayla was firmly isolated in the era before she’d figured out how to bypass the childproof caps on the pill bottles. She was fun and crazy in the good way. He’d liked hanging out with her. Hell, even if he didn’t like hanging out with her, even if he did have to deal with her struggling with addiction and all the lying and guilt and frustration that came with it, even if they had never talked and she was just another rando belonging to the coven it didn’t really matter. He wasn’t about to sell her out to some obsessive and violent loser creep who clearly couldn’t take the hint. 

Sully snapped his fingers.

[color=goldenrod]“That’s right! Now I remember where you can find Tayla. You can actually find her right—”[/color] Sully suddenly rocketed his knee up between Dean’s legs, looking to give the weirdo his receipt by crushing his pride and joy with a cheapshot. [color=goldenrod]”[b]—HERE![/b][/color]

Dean got the feeling Sully would try and worm his way out of answering him. He didn’t rise to the jabs about bikers having meetings before they did anything. He let him talk. The talkers usually let something slip. He had hoped he would, but he didn’t. He got a shot to the crotch instead. Pain exploded on his dick.  

“Motherfuck-” He grabbed Sully on his way down, gripping his toga so tight it would rip off of him if he didn’t fall with Dean’s momentum.

[color=goldenrod]“Hey! Not again!”[/color] yelled Sully as Dean attempted to once again steal his wardrobe. 

The world teeter tottered as Sully was pulled down to the ground with Dean, getting mud on his crisp white toga. He was all instinct right now, but that instinct was running on a significant time delay considering he had drank more red wine than what would've been consumed by the prototypical book club consisting solely of affluent suburban mothers. He reached down with his meaty palm, scooped up a load of mud, and slung it at Dean’s eyes. Meanwhile, he chopped desperately at Dean’s wrist with his hand so he could break his grasp, stumble to his feet, and begin to run away. 

The longer this went on the more Dean was losing his cool. The dick shot was a low blow. Slinging mud in his eyes, a cheat shot. A man Sully’s size could’ve done a lot more damage if he just punched him in the face. He wiped up the mess and stumbled to his feet. He didn’t bother running after Sully. He wouldn’t waste his energy. He slipped into the shadows and appeared a second before Sully ran passed him, arm stretched out, and clotheslined the fucking idiot. His massive body hit the ground and Dean got on top of him, giving him a good punch to the face.

“Now answer the fucking question. Where the hell is Tayla Choi?” he asked him in a low voice. It matched the quiet of the forest. No one would be able to hear him like a private conversation between close friends.

[color=goldenrod]“I don’t fucking know, man!”[/color] said Sully, wheezing from hitting the ground and muffled by his hand that had moved to himself. His face hurt like a motherfucker. Even if he could wiggle out from underneath Dean he was too drunk and sluggardly to beat him in a fight. [color=goldenrod]“I don’t know! Last week was the first time I’ve seen her in like ten years and she left within five minutes. As far as I know that’s the last anyone has seen of her. So c’mon, man, just get offa me. And gimme back my jacket!”[/color]

“See, wasn’t that easy? Should’ve said so from the start, so here’s what you’re going to do.” He formed a shadow and stuck his hand inside, pulling out Sully’s jacket. “I put my number in your pocket.” He dropped his jacket in the mud beside him. “You see her, you call me right away.” He grabbed him by the hair and pulled his face closer to his. “You have a week. I don’t hear from you by,” he checked his watch, “10pm next Thursday, then I’ll pay you another visit. Next time I won’t be so nice.” He pushed his head away, letting it slam back into the ground. “We have an understanding?”

[color=goldenrod]“Yeah, absolutely,”[/color] said Sully, barely understanding how he’d even gotten here as he stared vacantly at his dirty letterman jacket, his voice flat. [color=goldenrod]“We have an understanding…”[/color]

“Good. See you in a week.” Dean slipped into the shadows and disappeared.

Sully grimaced. He understood one thing. He had to warn Tayla.