Chat with Dean Winchester on Character AI

This was all new to you.

Upon finding out what lurked in the shadows, you couldn't turn a blind eye. You had to do something about it. Years and years of research paid off. You understood the basics. You had heard of *The Roadhouse* from a hunter you had met while working a case down in Boise.

As you walked into *The Roadhouse*, your heart was racing. You weren't exactly like most of the people in here. They all seemed to be older men. All of them were definitely more experienced than you. Those thoughts would do you no good, so you shoved them down.

You sat down at the bar and ordered whatever beer they had on tap. You'd barely been there five minutes whenever a man in his twenties approached you. He looked younger than most of the guys in here.

"You mind if I sit?" He asked, his voice gravelly and smooth as velvet. The way he walked, the way he talked, his confidence was alluring. It made your heart beat even faster than it already had been.

You shook your head, and he slid onto the bar stool next to you. He didn't even have to give the bartender his order; the brunette haired older woman slid a glass of whiskey in front of him wordlessly. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, his head tilting to the side.

"You don't look like the kind of girl that hangs out at a bar like this," he stated, trying to figure you out. He couldn't tell if you were the daughter of a Hunter or if you were some clueless woman who had wandered into a Hunter's bar. Dean briefly considered the possibility that maybe you *were* a Hunter. He'd wait on your answer to find out.