Even if his trip to the museum had made him significantly less adventurous, nothing has happened to him yet from looking at the fronts and backs of photos.
"No. But it might all be connected. The film, the photographs, the mark." Doc grasps the sheet of cloth covering the mirror, tempted to rip it away, but with mild trepidation about what he might find underneath. He doesn't feel like he can act worried or afraid with Dean hovering close by but he's not sure what's under the white sheet, either. It's fine if he perishes but he would feel guilty if it was something that would jump out and attack Dean, even though it looks like it might be keeping dust off of a mere portrait or something.
Taking just a small step backwards, he glances over at Dean, jerking his head to indicate to him to maybe step aside a little bit before slowly lifting the cover, tilting his head to take a peek. He sees a sliver of mirror, judging from the reflection of some flooring, and keeps pulling the sheet away until he sees the writing and the figure.
"Christ--" He turns to look over his shoulder, but their new friend is not standing behind them. Maybe it is stupid but Doc touches the mirror, just to be sure it's a flat glass surface and not something he can put his hand through or feel some... demonic phantomy wispy thing, and then he reads the writing overhead. This we offer in humility and fear. This... these photographs? The plastic fruit? Or the idiots stranded in the house?
Well. Shit.
"I think I'd better. Put this back on." He clears his throat and purses his lips, nodding a few times before draping the cloth back over the mirror. At least it seems to have its back turned and might not be interested in Doc or Dean.
no subject
"No. But it might all be connected. The film, the photographs, the mark." Doc grasps the sheet of cloth covering the mirror, tempted to rip it away, but with mild trepidation about what he might find underneath. He doesn't feel like he can act worried or afraid with Dean hovering close by but he's not sure what's under the white sheet, either. It's fine if he perishes but he would feel guilty if it was something that would jump out and attack Dean, even though it looks like it might be keeping dust off of a mere portrait or something.
Taking just a small step backwards, he glances over at Dean, jerking his head to indicate to him to maybe step aside a little bit before slowly lifting the cover, tilting his head to take a peek. He sees a sliver of mirror, judging from the reflection of some flooring, and keeps pulling the sheet away until he sees the writing and the figure.
"Christ--" He turns to look over his shoulder, but their new friend is not standing behind them. Maybe it is stupid but Doc touches the mirror, just to be sure it's a flat glass surface and not something he can put his hand through or feel some... demonic phantomy wispy thing, and then he reads the writing overhead. This we offer in humility and fear. This... these photographs? The plastic fruit? Or the idiots stranded in the house?
Well. Shit.
"I think I'd better. Put this back on." He clears his throat and purses his lips, nodding a few times before draping the cloth back over the mirror. At least it seems to have its back turned and might not be interested in Doc or Dean.