Facets of Blood

we are, you know.

2010-07-23T20:56:38Z

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y6ljFaKRTrI

Coffee Break (open for the bored!)

2008-09-29T03:25:33Z

Crystal paused in her typing, stretching her back and lifting her arms above her head. She'd been bent over the keyboard for hours now, trying to figure out how the coding on her website had been corrupted. So far, she'd been able to save the contents of her geeky/gothy/cutesy webcomic and convention loving website, shoving images into files to be replaced at some other time. That this had even happened led her to believe that either a) someone had done this on purpose or b) her original files had somehow decided to reorganize themselves. Which sucked, because she had no proof of either one at this time. And that meant that she'd wasted the last three hours only to have nothing to show for it.

"Coffee time. Most def." Glancing down at her clothing choice of what had once been a Nightmare Before Christmas shirt and a pair of sleeping pants, she rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I guess I should shower first. Stupid impressions to make." Closing the lid of her laptop she pushed away from the make-shift desk she'd made for herself from the dinette table in her hotel room and a very uncomfortable chair. After rummaging through the drawers of the dresser for something to wear, she sighed at the fact that she really needed to go shopping and do laundry. All she had clean was an outfit she'd rather not drink coffee in, it having been shipped from Japan and costing her mucho dinero. Plus, it was completely lolita and to pull it off she'd have to do her hair and.. oh well. Why not? Not like she had anything else to do.

After a five minute shower and thirty minutes of primping, she was finally ready to go get some coffee. Staring at her reflection she barely recognized herself in the black and white frilly knee-length dress covered in a rose motif. Plus, the little top hat that she'd placed atop carefully styled sausage curls was a bit.. dramatic. But, she did have to admit that the look suited her colouring.

Grabbing up her wallet and phone, she tucked them into a discreet pocket and walked out into the hall of the hotel and made her way outside. She glanced up at the sky, enjoying the sight of the sunset colours that splashed across the horizon. It was so pretty when it was still daylight on one side of the city and dusk on the other. Putting one chunky black mary jane shoe in front of the other, she made her way down the familiar path towards the Espresso Pump. Maybe she'd even get tea to complete the picture she made. Tea and maybe little cakes?

[Sort-of-closed post, somewhere in hell]

2008-08-31T19:27:03Z

Lindsey stretched, slowly opening his eyes. He grinned, sliding his arms around the brunette in bed beside him.

"Evening," he purred, kissing her slowly.

"So far," Phaedra replied, kissing him back. Smiling softly, Lindsey kissed her forehead, pulling her close.

"So, what are we gonna do tonight, darlin'?"

****

He walked into the kitchen, seeing Phaedra glaring at the light.

"The bulb has gone out. Can you grab me one from the cellar?"

Lindsey looked away, nervous. "There should be some in the hall closet, darlin'."

"I checked, I think there are some downstairs." Hands on her hips, Phaedra continued to glare at the light.

"Well uh, ain't we goin' out now?" Lindsey looked around, wanting an excuse, anything to keep him away from the door.

Phaedra walked over to him, putting her hand on his shoulder.

"I need it now, vest'acha." She insisted.

"All right," he sighed, looking towards the basement door. "I'll be right back." He put his hand on the doorknob, hesitated, looking back at her. Phaedra nodded encouragingly, staring back at him as he opened the door and headed down into the cellar.

[ooc: Shamelessly adapted from S5 Angel. Sorry 'bout that.

Open to any mystic types that might 'see' this, but not rescue just yet. ;) But feel free to react or interact with Lindsey. ;) Boy done gone got hisself in trouble. *grin*]

i want to be free from desolation and despair

2008-08-31T00:46:20Z

Bathing suits, beach sand, and carefree smiles relishing the sunlight -- Those were the components Florida was supposed to be filled with. They were a drastic difference to the pensive expression she both arrived and left the state with. Sunnydale was a little less 'sunny' than Florida and, in her thoughtful opinion, somehow degrees less captivating in comparison to the Californian town that held far more mystery and enigma than the impression it gave you upon first look.

The high, luscious life that was brimming in the southeast hadn't ensnared her as it would have anyone else. Rather, it was calming, a dose of pacification to smooth over the predicaments she'd overcome in the last weeks and months. The constant sensation of paranoia, dreading something she couldn't put her finger on, had been something she was growing grossly familiar to. It had attached itself to her. And like anything that attached, it only increased. That wasn't living, nor was it right. The mass of tangles that were her thoughts had been worsening, and not one of those said tangles looked like it would unravel any time soon.

And thus started her escape. Her route away, steering clear of vampires and mythical creatures and everything that identified with certain people who crowded her mind, Renee entering the picture as she threw clothes and a toothbrush into a bag. She had qualms with leaving. Was she running away? Hypothetically, it was exactly that. In her mind, Bella preferred to label it as being able to breathe. To think. She needed time.

She'd spent the majority of her time being introspective, encompassed by the serenity of a house she didn't know too well and the easily excitable nature of her mother. Renee was full of distractions and opinions she didn't have time to explain. She remembered clearly the concern under Renee's abnormal observance. "You have something on your mind." The sentence hadn't held a question mark, ringing in her ears. "You can't escape things for long. Karma bites back." Haunting words. A message she had already known.

A tattered bag, partially unpacked while half of the contents scattered, lay carelessly across her bedroom carpet. Hair, damp from a recent shower, was being pulled through with her fingers. She hadn't come back with a sun burn or tan lines, but a lighter load almost, a soaring determination.

Here We Go Loup-Garou (Open to the Lunarly Challenged+Entourage)

2008-08-25T21:06:30Z

Crystal sighed and scratched at an arm as she waited for the bus, head tilted back against the orange bench covered in ink pen graffiti. If there was one thing she hated, it was waiting for the bus. And it seemed that she would continue to wait for the bus so long as she didn't have a car. But the money that would go into a car would drop her level of living further than it already was. She really needed to find an apartment instead of living out of a hotel room. While it was nice to not have to clean up after herself all the time, it was annoying to hear the carts being pushed down the hall outside of her door at five in the morning. Plus, whenever Connie wanted to come in a clean she'd always pitch her voice in such an annoying tone when she proclaimed "House keeping!" in that too-cheerful falsetto.

Yeah, it was time to find a place to live that just had upstairs neighbors that liked doing jumping jacks at two in the morning. And then maybe a car.. oh the glee. Hearing the bus turn the corner, she stood and grabbed up her "camping" stuff. Of course, the only thing in the bag was a sleeping bag and a change of clothes. Anything else would be of little purpose when you planned on lurking in a state park for a couple of days, hunting down deer and rabbits for your breakfast, lunch and dinner. Pulling out her ticket, she made sure her sunglasses were still on top of her head and then she stepped up to the bus and handed it over to the driver. Her nose wrinkled at the mixture of smells that assaulted her nose as she made her way down the aisle of the bus. Body odor, various food smells and unwashed clothes mixed in a very unpleasant way.

She took a seat at the back of the bus and tossed her bag under the seat, knowing that it wouldn't roll around too much, being stuffed to the point that it was. She propped her knees up and prepared to take a two hour nap, since it was going to take forever to get to the state park.

---Two Hours Later---

She hopped from the last step of the bus and slung her bag over a shoulder before heading in the direction of the park. Since the bus didn't have an actual stop for the place, she'd have to hike it the last leg of the journey. Yeah, getting a car was really high on her list of wants for the moment. Taking a deep breath, she held it for a minute before exhaling. There was nothing quite like the clean air that was in the middle of no where. It didn't matter if you were in the woods of Georgia or in California, the air still had that same clean quality. She glanced up at the sky, tracking down the white shadow of the moon. Come sunset, she was gonna get real acquainted with that moon.

Sometimes, usually right before her monthly shift into her leopard form, she would remember what life was like before she really paid attention to the lunar cycle. How she would always forget that the full moon came with such regularity. Now, she'd be lucky if she didn't have her skin split in half while she was surrounded by people on that day. Since the second time, she'd made sure to be away from people that week. She'd either get sick or would go out of town, it ididn't matter what plans she had to break. Not that she usually had plans.. well, not since Jack. But even he had gotten sick of her constant ditching of him once a month. He attributed it to her "monthly grossness" and she didn't disagree.

The gate and little guard house let her know that she had made her way faster than expected. Well, whenever you wanted to get somewhere, your body usually took over. Taking a deep breath, she made her way to the park ranger to get her camping permit.

"You planning on staying for a few days?" He asked as he got the required paper work out for her to sign. "Just so you know, we've marked off several trails to be off-limits. There've been a few mudslides and the like, so watch out." Making sure each paper was in order, he nodded to her and passed her a map of the site. "Have a good time, miss." Waving back at him, she consulted the map to see where most of the campers would be staying. "Yeah... gotta avoid that area," she said.

Now, to find a nice isolated cave or something to put her stuff...

An Anonymous Tip; Closed Narrative

2008-08-25T06:35:34Z

“Hey, Donnelly, get a hold of this.” A middle aged white man with a once athletic but now sagging build turned in his swivel chair to face his partner as he hung up the phone. Donnelly, a prematurely bald Navy retiree, looked up from the stack of paperwork on his desk.

“You know the Sutherland Park attack earlier tonight, with the blonde girl? Just got a call from some schmuck saying he witnessed the altercation while he was walking his dog. Older fellow, little bit of a Mexican accent. But get this, he says he seen two blonde women fighting, and that the older woman’s the one who knocked the other girl out.”

Donnelly perked up a bit as he reached for his coffee cup. “Didn’t the report say a blonde woman called in the ambulance for the victim? You thinking it’s the same female, or what?”

“Some kinda domestic dispute maybe. They could be in a relationship of some sort,” he added with raised eyebrows. “They get into it, she gets mad and almost kills the victim. Feels bad about it and calls 911. Definitely plausible.”

“Well why wouldn’t the girl say anything then? I mean, she just got beat down and you think she’s not going to say anything about it to all those white coats asking questions?”

“Classic marker of an abusive relationship old boy. Victim is abused but still protects her partner because she thinks they’ll change, or that they deserve the abuse.” He shuffled around some papers until he found the report from the incident. “Says they left together, what do you make of that?” Donnelly shrugged as he reached out for the papers.

“Well, call up the victim, see what’s good. Use some finesse though for fuck’s sake Thompson, we can’t make an arrest until we have some evidence. Your witness leave a name, contact info? He might be our only lead.”

“Nah, he was real shaken up. Had a guilty conscience about not stepping in. He wants to remain anonymous. We can’t force him to give up the information.” Donnelly nodded, knowing this was true. “Well, I’ll contact the victim, you want to try and track down this...Kate Lockley?”

Closed Log; somewhere in Hell...

2008-08-11T08:58:53Z

Time to feast [open]

2008-08-06T23:43:15Z

Eric had left Dietre at home with a promise that he would take Sancho with him if he went anywhere. He was hoping the responsibility would make D more cautious with himself and his strength, but realistically he was just hoping Sancho would come get him in the idiot kid got into trouble.

The plan was to catch a quick, decent dinner and then do some food shopping. Between Sancho and D, the fridge just never stayed fully stocked. Eric felt like he was single-handedly supporting the local beef industry, not to mention the dairy industry, the poultry industry and the diet soda industry. He managed not to buy too much alcohol for the house and kept what he did buy for himself separate - the kid had no taste or respect for fine liquor, just for occasionally getting plastered, so he could buy his own crap alcohol.

A vague memory of a jazz bar and restaurant poked around the edges of Eric's mind as he walked. He breathed in the California night air, glad to be here instead of the jungle. Yes, even with all the crazy antics that Sunnydale was so famous for. He had lived here before, he could do it again. Besides, it was the job.

Eric had spent a long time speaking to his supervisors about the recent events, up to and including a vague description of his meeting with Riley Finn. He had gotten the go-ahead to fill him in on the mission and task him with night ops if needed. It was good to have trustworthy back-up. The kid was trustworthy but untrained, Riley he knew would respond to orders in a certain way. D - unpredictable.

Turning down River Road, he heard the unmistakable sounds of saxophone and bass. He had found the place. Eric was glad that in the harsh world of restaurants, this place had survived his years away.

He pushed open the doors and walked into the smoky bar, looking for a table.

A Much Needed Conversation [ David & Dietre ]

2008-08-05T01:32:59Z

[Yeah so I'm in 3 threads. I CANT BE CONTAINED.]

Life only continued to get more complicated. A mix of poor choices, bad luck, and pessimistic thinking. Street fights, attempted murder and gunshots. How did everything get more dangerous after he gave up being a hitman? And who would have thought that life as a paid killer would feel easier than this? And the pack...Now that was a mess. A constant sensation of being ripped in two whenever he was with them. The wolf within longing for connections, the human desperate to protect himself from future pain. All around him there was nothing that felt secure, nothing permanent, nothing he could cling to without the fear that it could, and would, crumble and leave him to fall.

These heavy, dreary thoughts made him restless, peace continued to be elusive, and the mounting frustration was bound to lead him to even more trouble, he was absolutely certain of it. He walked briskly, hoping to escape the feeling of being trapped that followed him everywhere, and eventually the streets became familiar, though the houses and signs of humanity grew sparse. He could lie to himself the whole way, but he knew perfectly well where he was going. As much as he ran away from close attachments, he was desperate for understanding, an ear for his troubles, something sincere.

There was a hope in him that David could be these things, that he was. He felt, somehow, that David was safe territory, completely separate from the rest of his life. He had told no one about the vampire. He was sure that none of his acquaintances knew anything about David, let alone was aware of their tentative friendship. David was something all his own. Met and accepted on Dietre's own terms, based on common ground, where there was no suspicions of being pitied or kept around out of morals and duty.

His wandering brought him before the grand house that he had had a hand in choosing for the vampire. Its size would have been imposing if the boy hadn't found it so beautiful. He lingered about the street for some time, and then, almost in a rush lest he lose his courage, he sprang up the steps and banged the door knocker (something told him that David would prefer the sound over the electric chime of a doorbell).

Friends. How many of us have them? Ones you can depend on. (Buffy/Will/Xander)

2008-07-27T01:45:53Z

It was the night after her near-fatal vamp attack, and Bufy was dressing again for the patrol. Simple black jeans and a blue and white striped tank top, a light zip-up jacket with comfy sneakers. The bites on her neck were hardly noticeable now, and she decided against trying to awkwardly cover them with a scarf.

Still though, she felt a little nervous about going out solo again, foolishly, maybe. Getting hurt was in her job description, she shouldn't be making such a big deal.

She padded downstairs and into the kitchen where she grabbed a string cheese out of the fridge. She was delaying her departure for slayage a little longer than usual, but she had a good reason. Buffy was hoping Willow would get home soon, and that they could talk. Maybe she could even get her friend to come along with. She'd already called Xander earlier in a bout of anxiety to tell him about the attack. After the expected concern and worry, he'd promised to stop by later.

She now waited for her other friend, to see if the redhead would appear to save the day. Willow had been gone all day and Buffy desperately wanted to see her. She was sure Xander was caught up with something, maybe an Anya-type thing, and would be over soon. But where was Willow. She peeled the cheese slowly, glancing up at the clock.

Edinburgh - New York - LA - Sunnydale (no, really. Travelling sucks.)

2008-07-14T22:06:30Z

"I wish you'd stay a while, son," Carr's dad sat down heavily on Carr's bed, resting a hand on the quilt beside Carr's half-filled duffel bag. Carr ignored him, carefully folding his clean clothes, resisting the urge to just throw them all in the bag and run out the house.

"I can't, you know that, Dad," Carr explained for the God-only-knew-which time. He scrubbed his face with both hands, trying to ignore the expression on his father's face, the crumpling of his features. He could still smell, though, could taste the loneliness coming off him in waves.

But he couldn't stay. Couldn't be stuck here, with his pack in Sunnydale. Carr still didn't know when he'd started thinking of Anita, Jason, and D as his pack (dysfunctional though they may be), but he knew it felt wrong to be here without them. To change without them.

"No, I don't. There's nothing for you over there, you must see that. You've family here; family and a home, and a room all ready for you."

Carr resisted the urge to snarkily reply, 'whoop de fucking doo, Dad.' but only just.

"A room. Well, that's kind of you, sure enough. But I've got people I need to look after in the States, Dad, business to attend to."

"Business? And your family means nothing now, is that it?"

Carr turned away from his father, unwilling to watch the proud man he'd known beg his son to stay. Unable to watch him cry, again. He'd done far too much of that in the last couple of months.

"Da, it's not that, and you know fine well I'd stay if I thought it'd help, and I thought I could make something of myself over here. But I can't." Carr leant against the windowframe, looking out over muddy fields, tyre tracks testament to the block of flats the once-green space would soon become.

"You'll be fine, you know that. Mum-" he paused, wetting dry lips, looking down at the windowsill, the stupid bloody Beatrix Potter animals she'd thought made the spare room look 'awfy braw, son'*. "Mum's family'll look after you, right enough." Auntie Sheila had already taken over her sister's kitchen, determined to keep Carr's father fed, and sure that Carr would have a healthy appetite. He'd done his best not to disappoint her, despite food tasting like dust in his mouth.

"Aye, lad," his father sighed, coming to stand at his shoulder. "I just..." His voice wavered, Carr sliding a hand up to his shoulder, squeezing gently. "I miss her, I keep waking up and she's no' there." He covered his face with his hands, broad shoulders slumped as he wept.

Carr hugged his father, closing his eyes as he felt tears soak his shoulder. Bad enough that he lose his wife; he was young, young enough to move on, though it had taken long enough. For his father...this was it. He was alone, now. And whilst so much of Carr wanted Anita and his pack, and Jesse, there was a part of him that wanted to stay. That wanted his mum back in the kitchen, making endless pots of tea and rounds of jam sandwiches (treacle on special occasions).

And so he held his father, and wept for a mother lost and a father who would never get his wife back.

****

Carr stepped off the plane, ashen-faced and unshaven. He made it to the long-stay car park where he'd left Angelina, a weight lifted off his shoulders as soon as he sat astride her, his duffel strapped to the back of the bike. He flirted with the speed limit all the way to Sunnydale, roaring in past the sign and heading straight for the centre of town. Two days from full moon, D and Jason should be easy to find.

* Awfy braw: 'very nice'. Awfy = awful. Braw = "Unintelligible, yet somehow mysteriously compelling, Scots word for grand, fine, super, etc"

Gingerbread damsels and Marmalade Heroes [Faith]

2008-07-12T22:07:49Z

The day at school had gone well enough she supposed. She'd met quite a few people, showed them around, and even maybe got a few of them excited about collegiate life. Willow loved sharing the wonder and awe that was education, and the fact that geek was becoming chic might have helped out. Maybe. She didn't know. She knew she missed Tara, and Buffy, and Xander. She knew that she was going to have to work hard to make it up to everyone. Even Dawn - what had happened to the littlest Summers anyway? It'd been too long since they'd had a talk about anything. Yes, cookies were definitely in order. A big pile of them, of all kinds.

So, that was Willow's focus as she came out of the market. She had eggs, sugars, flour, choco bits, nuts, sprinkles, so many things that a bakery of elves might be jealous. Her mind centered around all the recipes she would tackle, all the shapes she'd make, all the dishes she'd wash. The place was going to smell wonderfully delicious. Such focus could be a good thing when one's trying to put a soul back into a very wayward vampire, but it wasn't the best when one was being tailed by a few vampires. In fact, such focus was very very dangerous.

Willow didn't like to think of herself as a damsel in distress. Damsels in distress couldn't call down forces that would rip cities to pieces, not that Willow would ever do something like that, but she knew she could if she put her mind to it, maybe. Unfortunately, she sometimes had a hard time multitasking - say like, remembering whether or not there were two kinds of sugars in a certain sugar cookie recipe or a sugar and a syrup while looking out for any nasties that might want to have her for dinner. Yes, Willow was about to get a reminder on just how dangerous Sunnydale could be.

Walking home [Wes & a bad guy?]

2008-07-12T21:57:06Z

Niks wasn't sure how to act at the moment. Hold his hand? Lean against him? Walk like two good buds..walking? She'd read diaries in which Watchers became involved; circumstances tended to ignite those little sparks of lust confused with feelings. Everyone knew that relationships started in such fashions rarely lasted long. Not that Niks and Wes had been in any major danger, well, not too much anyway. Niks was a fringe player; Wes had more of a part in it all. Her mind was working overtime perhaps; she was over analyzing something so very simple, right?

"So, is this what's going to happen? I get chocked by a demon, and you help me find out what it is so that we can send it on its not so merry way?" She gave a quick side glance, a teasing smile on her lips. "Or will there be occasions in which you get hurt and I must needs play nurse? I don't think I'd look good in a nurse's uniform. The hat would be a little bothersome."

She reached over, any books and such settled on her other side, and slid her arm about his. She didn't lean against him, not yet anyway. She liked him. Then again, she had a little crush on him way back when; she always wondered what it would be like to nudge him to the slightly-darker grittier side. She supposed the Council had done that though, yet he always seemed very by the book even now. He was a good man.

"The demon could shift form. Fluid. He can be anything perhaps, but the face he wears isn't his own. What his true form is, I don't know, but it's not humanoid." Shift from slightly naughty to business. Yes, business was always a safe ground, unless someone decided to get brilliant. Nothing like having a weak spot when it came to the brainy types.

Brother to Brother [Sam]

2008-07-07T02:30:45Z

It'd been a while since the Winchester boys had talked, actually talked. The fact that they were slipping into a rut that had allowed Sam to have an actual life, in school, everything, didn't bother Dean as much. Funny, some small part of him wished he could give Sam back that life. Hell, if the Gjin hadn't shown him the life he wished for...The oldest Winchester sighed as he looked down at the cell in his hands. They weren't bunking up, so he'd have to call Sam to find out where he was.

Speed dial.

He waited, staring into the shadows in the corner. He'd left the lights off once he got out of the shower, and he was considering hanging up. This wasn't the way it should be, but he didn't want Sam to miss him that much. He didn't want Sam to suffer. The distance might help rather than hurt. Hell, he didn't know. He didn't want to think about it. He just wanted things to go back ....

"To what, Dean? Before you gave your soul up? Before Dad did the same thing? Before he died?" The answer to the question of when would always be before Mom died. Whether Sam caught all that one-sided conversation really depended on when he'd pick up the damn phone.

Why looking up military secrets on the Internet at a public library is "Bad"

2008-06-21T04:31:48Z

Who: Chris and Crystal and whoever else has a fetish for knowledge to a freakish degree
What: Research. Yea, research...
Where: Sunnydale University's library
When: Day time, I guess. There seems to be a huge bright ball in the sky that I've never seen before.

It's a little known fact, but one out of every three library users are of demonic origin. Even more shocking is that one out of ten of those demons uses the library to steal information! Not really, but it does sound like something that could be possible. In any event...well, that's not too far off from what Chris is doing at the college's library...in the sense that random searches from less than reputable sources could be considered could be considered information gathering...and frankly, he knows it.

"Bloody ridiculous. Would be simpler to fly out there and -ask- the sucker."

This "hacking" stuff intrigues him, but sadly he has little time to learn it..nor a real aptitude. Funny how it's easier for him to sneak into a heavily secured building, disable or sneak past a multitude of guards, and entice a well-placed individual to..."part", shall we say, with their secrets than getting it out of a computer network. On the upside, not everything is entrusted to such networks!

"Hm...eh, fuck it. I'll find out some other way." And with that judgment...he starts looking up a guilty pleasure of his since he's come to this world: Science Fiction!

Digging Deeper {Marius / Tara}

2008-06-01T06:39:01Z

Marius had found probably the furthest, darkest corner of the library and was engrossed in his pile of books he requisitioned from the shelves. The assistant had been most helpful in getting him what he needed. He was immediately surprised about the number of supernatural, dark science and lots of other less savoury things. Marius was looking for history of the town, strange occurences; anything that would give him an idea of what was happening as of late.

The only thing he could find so far was that more than often, things that were less normal and weird was the kind of stuff bound to happen. Numerous unexplained things, or things where the explained was just not possible according to those keeping those records. All in all, it made Marius want to keep digging, dig deeper and figure everything out.

Moping About (Xander/Jasper)

2008-05-30T22:47:13Z

Xander had found that Willy's Place had been condemned which was a surprise to him. But he didn't question it, though he wondered what had happened to Willy himself. Why was he even looking for a bar to tend to? Well, there were two major things - er, women. Women, wasn't it always women that drove a man to drink? He shook his head as he found the one lone bar just outside Sunnydale. Turning Big Bertha into the small parking lot, he stared at the shack of a place and sighed. This wasn't where he wanted to find himself anytime soon and yet...

Women. Yep. Always to bring the strongest man to his knees. Not that he was strong by any means... and one probably could barely call him a 'man.' But then that just meant he could be brought to his knees faster and not in a sexy way. One would think that being all broody over more than one woman was a sign of Mr. Macho - alas, that wasn't how Xander saw it. No, he saw Anya, his girlfriend, being all weird and that just brought on the guilt he had because of WILLOW. And that was still all reeling in his mind. How did that all happen? He didn't even have a moment to talk about it with her, figure out what had happened, do the usual Scooby thing, before Willow wanted the moment to end - QUICKLY.

He found a seat at the bar and ordered a manly drink. A rum and Coke. He sat there, sighing and running his fingers through his hair as he waited for the drink to be set in front of him. Once it was, he took a good gulp of it, making a face. When the bartender looked at him, Xander just smiled. "Um, it's been awhile, you know," he said, looking away and taking another sip. "Awhile meaning never," he muttered.

For ever on the brink of being born; (David/Crystal)

2008-05-27T22:09:01Z

It had taken David all last evening to find this little hole-in-the-wall book shop. He'd been slowly adding personal touches to his new home, picking up knick-knacks and end tables and linens to add to his already furnished home. Now, he wanted to begin his library. He had thousands of volumes in his possession already, but they were either in his Cotswolds manor, the safety deposit box in his banks vaults, or Lestat's Rue Royale flat in New Orleans. One could never have enough books, however, he rationalized. That was why he had begun the search for some classic staples for his new Sunnydale library.

However, the bookshops on the main drag were only flashy imitations of the real thing. Places where novice book collectors and tourists found dog-eared copies of The Great Gatsby and gilded volumes of the Brontes 'complete works' and thought they had a real catch. David knew better; he wanted originals in his new collection, literary rarities that one had to really search for, not just purchase under the suggestion of the greedy owner.

So, he'd traveled deeper into the little alleys and bends downtown, always with a keen eye. Finally he'd come upon this little shop, humbly called 'Johnson & Gregoire,' sitting in between a family-run bakery and an insurance agency in Belmont Alley. A preliminary perusal of the fare heightened David's excitement, for a quick glance told him Johnson and Gregoire, whoever they were, had a keen eye for first editions and expensive curiosities.

The graying man behind the counter nodded thoughtfully as he passed through the doors, bell jingling above his head. David nodded back and disappeared into the stacks, running his finger along the spines of books long passed remembering, in many cases. He pulled out a frayed but original copy of Tolstoy, thumbed through the pages, and slid it carefully back on the shelf. The next volume that caught David's eye drew a little breath of appreciation immediately and found itself gingerly removed from the pile of books balancing on an ornately carved end table.

The green cloth cover protested in a small whisper when David opened it, a sound only his preternatural ears could catch. He reveled in the smell of wood pulp and dust, a scent so particular to old copies like this. It was the first edition of Edward Young's Night Thoughts, with illustrations by William Blake. A true find, and expensive, David could tell from the fact the copperplate engravings were slightly larger than the paper on which the poem was printed, signaling this edition was one of the few uncut editions preserving Blake's illustrations in their entirety.

David was something of a collector, he would admit to you, but only after you’d visited one of extensive and impressive libraries.

He opened the book, running the pads of his middle and index fingers over the engravings, skimming over the words of the blank verse poem with what some may call affection. He had to have it, but would the man even let it go? Sometimes these rare finds were but a tantalizing dream, the owner soon finding the copy too precious to release once faced with the prospect of actual loss.

He glanced up slightly, eyes passing over the room and the man behind the desk. He shut the book and placed it back on the stool delicately. He had time to make his offer, after he had looked around a bit, no need to look too eager, he knew. But what a find! And so early in the night. What other novelties did this place hold?

Mistakes Are Made [ Dietre and Jo]

2008-05-20T13:42:05Z

It took a lot of sighing, moping around, and playing depressing piano pieces while gazing forlornly out the window to guilt trip Eric enough to allow him outside tonight. It was early, very early in the night compared to the time of his usual ramblings, and he was expected back in an hour. An hour. And Sancho had to be with him, of course.

Dietre wandered down the sidewalk dejectedly. An hour wasn't near enough time to prowl around David's in the hopes of being noticed and invited in. Same with Marius. By the time he reached any of their houses, he'd only be able to say hello before having to start right back. He growled softly in disappointment. At least being able to walk around was nice.

Since he couldn't go anywhere he actually wanted to, he settled for the park. No one in their right mind went there at night in Sunnydale, but since being a werewolf categorized him as one of the things that went bump in the night, D wasn't worried. And Sancho was never scared of anything.

Maybe a game of fetch, or chase, or something...

A scream split the night, a woman's cry of terror straight out of a horror movie. And far too much like the one that sounded endlessly in his nightmares. The very memory tore all thought, reason, and humanity from him, and he was charging across the park in a blink of an eye.

It was a typical scene in Sunnydale. Some male vampire tricked a foolish girl into going on a date, only to go for her blood as soon as they were alone. Dietre barreled into him like a 5'7" freight train, using the element of surprise to his advantage. Being weaponless, and not very sound of mind, he went with instinct, which was 'go for the neck', and so dug his fingers into the vampire's throat, ripping and tearing chunks of flesh away with his inhuman strength. He was hoping to decapitate him before the vamp could throw him off.

The girl had been screaming the whole while, but as soon as she saw the growing hole in the vampire's neck, she fainted dead away.

This scene really did not look good to passerby's.

Dietre and Riley Continued ~

2008-05-17T23:12:17Z

[Now with Added Eric for a complete breakfast!!]

If Dietre had been human, he surely would have gotten alcohol poisoning, but thanks to an out of control metabolism, he had merely gotten trashed. Awkward conversation can only last so long, and by the time the vodka bottle he held in his hand had but a splash left, Dietre had gotten himself in another mental panic. All he could think about was Eric, and how angry the man was going to be. Every moment he stayed out was seen as adding to the trouble he was in. And soon enough Dietre was begging to go home.

He was silent on the way, only speaking to give directions, the rest of his time devoted to worrying. He had only thought to lessen his punishment by finally going home, but once the roof of the house was in view, he had a change of heart. Suddenly it seemed he was crazy to have asked to be brought home, he could see Eric now, frowning with his arms crossed over his chest. Guilt washed over him and he squirmed unhappily in his seat. It was too late to tell Riley to let him out somewhere else.

Eric's home grew larger as they approached, and now they were close enough to see something that made Dietre groan out loud.

The lights were on.

The lost art of Haggling with one's fists. (Chris and Niks)

2008-05-17T06:25:36Z

"..I'm sorry, I'm not quite sure I heard you right. You did -what- now?"

"I..I...S-sold it to someone else! This woman, s-she made me a better offer at the last minute! It's just busine-OW!"

Evidently that wasn't the answer Chris wanted to hear, seeing as how he just slammed the weaselly lil dealer of magical artifacts back against the wall he's been holding said dealer up against. The sheer "irritation" this greedy lil bastard is causing him right now is enough to slam him against the wall a second time.

"We had a deal. It was a perfectly -fine- deal for the both of us. I know we're both kind of new to each other but if this is how you treat all your new clients, I'm amazed something hasn't gutted you by now." His voice is still quiet, not that it really lessens the menace implied.

The dealer, a short, pale, and all together unimpressive specimen of the human race, struggles against the demon's grip on him. Most ineffectually, truth be told. "I-i'm sorry! Please! Let me down, you can have it for the agreed on price, I swear!"

Chris simply shakes his head. "Nah. Half off. That or I just take it and break yer legs. Discount ok with you?" The dealer slowly nods, eyes wide. "Good boy. Oh, one last thing. Who was that higher bid you were so tempted with?"

From behind them both, a feminine English voice sounds off. "Oh, that would be me."

Hunting up a new thrill (Merrick and Co)

2008-05-16T22:15:58Z

Sure, he'd have loved to take Sammy along on this field trip, especially since Sammy boy was around to actually go on a field trip, but Dean didn't want him to come along if the woman in question had been in 180 mode. No, Dean wanted the vampire all to himself for the moment anyway. Really, what was the worst she could do? Kill him? Send him to hell? Make him a vampire, which, if Sam was a good boy, would mean Sam would send him to hell rather than some hot piece of vamp ass? Then again...Vampires did live for a mighty long time, even if they were acts against Nature and soulless bastards. But what a way to go, right?

Dean's mind wasn't keeping to one path lately, but then wanting to live for his brother put a crimp in the do or die hunter mentality. Not that Dean wanted to die, but it made going out after bumps in the night a little easier.

"Com'on, Dean, get it together. Find the bitch and take her head." Okay, so Dean was jumping to conclusions, but it seemed to be a good plan. One less vampire in the world meant one less chance that there'd be more to hunt. He liked that; vampires were nasty business. Now werewolves, on the other hand. That rambling mind of Dean Winchester was broadcasting to almost anyone who was listening. Not that he was shouting his thoughts, but he certainly wasn't thinking of blocking his mind. Only person he knew of who could make with the Mysterio biz was Sam, and Sammy hadn't been doing much with that lately. Right, so where oh where was that Merrick broad anyway?

I tried to kill the pain, but only brought more...

2008-05-15T20:00:16Z

Buffy was cold.

Body heavy.

Her mind drifted.

You've got to get up.

Buffy get up.

Get up sweetheart.

"Mommy..."

Eyelids futter, muscles twitch, but she cannot lift herself out of the fog.

Just a little longer. Don't wanna get up yet. Not yet...

Not a lamb in wolf's clothing...Never been a lamb at all...[Dietre and Riley]

2008-05-04T15:39:09Z

When everything seemed to be getting better, they some how were getting worse at the same time. He had a life now, people who he could one day, if luck smiled on him, call friends. Yet...A worm of anxiousness had begun eating away at him since the very beginning, growing bigger, and bigger...and at times it seemed truly monstrous.

For all the names and faces that had become familiar, how many of these people did he actually know? How many knew him? There was not one person he could be around without wrestling with anxiety, without questioning where he stood, he had no safe haven. He had a home, but no peace. A constant cloud hung over him, unrelenting. After those first few weeks, he was again no longer able to sleep. His appearance slowly returning to how it was when Eric met him, albeit clean, well dressed, and with meat on his bones.

His thoughts continued. Of the people he did know, how long would he have them? His pack was currently scattered. Anita and Jason, they were from St. Louis. That was their home, and so, there would come a day when they would return to it, no? And what of Carr? Would he follow? Would he even want a terrible excuse for a werewolf like him making up his only pack if he stayed? Dietre doubted it. And he knew that if they left, he could not follow them. Leave Eric and Sancho? Leave Bella? He barely knew her more than a handful of hours, yet she had some how been elevated to one of the most important people to him. The number one spot belonging to...Well...

And his new vampire companions. Who would have ever thought he could find any scrap of comradery amongst the species that took his mother from him? But David and Marius were different...Marius, so wise and welcoming. David. David who was so very good, who anguished over the killing of innocents. A vampire with a purer soul than his own, how could he expect to ever mean anything to some one like that? He was a murderer without guilt!

A sudden swelling of rage and frustration took hold of him, and a moment later his fist was slammed into a mail deposit box that had the bad luck to show up next to him on the corner of the street. The sound was deafening, the blue metal sunken inward, the white eagle logo imprinted with the shape of his knuckles.

It was late, the street was deserted, Dietre a lone figure in black, staring blankly at the damage he'd done. BANG! Again. Metal screeched as it tore from bolts, the whole box now tilted to the side.

And then the air was filled with the echoing of his fists upon the metal, brutal and frenzied, mindless destruction as it escalated to Dietre ripping the thing apart, letters spilling like guts. Yet there was no relief! It was all useless, even as he yanked his inanimate victim from the very cement it sat on.

It was all the same, it would always be the same.

Too many Questions, not enough Answers [Wes + anyone up for coffee and semiwitty banter]

2008-05-01T19:28:48Z

Niks stared down at her notes, lips thinning as nothing seemed to be working. It didn't make any sense. Not that she was getting much help from the more human powers that be, namely the Council. Her few Talamasca ties came untied the moment she mentioned Mayfair, or more importantly Merrick Mayfair. The witches were known, and the fact that no one wanted to give her a straight answer didn't sit well with the Watcher; actually, they didn't want to give her any answers other than a "You're not one of us anymore." A lot of good help they weren't. Niks had considered casting out for David again, but she was rather sure he wouldn't want to answer her - then again, she wasn't sure who she'd get if she tried that. She wasn't a telepath, so her call would probably brush more receptive minds than she'd like.

The main question wasn't so much who Merrick was, why she felt...wrong, but why had Niks felt wrong. Why had she been caught in her head watching everything like a bad pov movie? Why had Wes been...not so Wes? Something had gone wrong the night they'd ousted Saerian from Tara, but Niks didn't think it had anything to do with the whole demon removal. No, that had felt just about as right as those sorts of things went. There had been something else going on, and damn, if she didn't feel like throttling someone to know what it was. What kind of Watcher was she?

"Not a very good one." She stood, gathering up her things. The local library had been her hide out for the waking hours; Wes had been kind enough to let her sleep on the couch, seeing as Gunn wasn't around anymore. Funny, she hadn't heard from Giles either, but he didn't seem overly communicative in the first place. Who could blame him? Female Watchers did seem to go a little odd in the head at times. With a soft huff, she yanked on her jacket o' pockets, happy to have it back, and then the rucksack full of info. She walked out into the night....yes, she really was smart, walking at night, and all that.

Ignoring her internal mental scolding, she headed for the Espresso Pump to grab a stiffening shot of something. Caffeinine was just a hint safer than the alcohol. Mental walls in place after the last bit of whacky vampire mind-reading fun, she probably looked as closed off as she felt. Right, so, coffee, bagel, a lil Philly, then back to Wes' to ask him if he's got anything. Good plan as long as you don't run into something along the way, brainiac.