Dean wrestled with the power attempting to migrate into his flesh. Sheer dogged stubbornness and an oily personality were all that kept him sliding past the Shadow’s efforts. Had Dean not managed to pour the creature’s energies out, into the world, it would have been over long ago – a good thirty seconds. But then he heard Donovan’s voice, felt his proximity.<br/><br/>How close the two were had always been a factor in their abilities and this was no exception. Dean muttered and growled, twisting where he stood on the bow of the ship – his body firmly lodged before a cruel (and vaguely dildo-shaped) ship’s wheel. His hands were up, pale as the moon, his muscular body corded with evident effort – eyes narrowed into slits – as shadows cavorted wildly around him, some manifesting as real, tangible things, others becoming ethereal nightmares (or dreams, depending on how one looked at them). All in all, Dean did not seem to be having a very good time, despite the fact that he was apparently “in command” of the renovated vessel.<br/><br/>Jerking one hand down and out, he extended his hand toward Donovan and managed, “Little help. Could use a little help.” Now, if only he could remember where he’d last seen those damn gemstones. It was getting so very hard to think….<br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide</div><div class="spoiler_body">Woot for short posts! :P</div></div>