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If Tomorrow Never Comes

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Reaching Out [23 Dec 2004|01:54pm]

[ mood | determined ]

I finally left the confines of the room that had entrapped Wesley and myself with the sorcery of Fred's entity, finally able to breathe, as I made my way slowly through the hotel. Everyone seemed occupied, concerned with their own insignificant troubles. I stopped and closed my eyes, seeking out Wesley's energy that spoke to me somehow although it was as broken as I had been once.

My eyes snapping open as the song whirled towards me, I followed it, seeking the man who had died in that room once he had watched his beloved leave him again. Yes, he still longed for her, aching, crying, all the pathetic human emotions that had destroyed him. Made him a piece of the earth to be trampled upon and forgotten soon after.

I found him speaking to the air when there was nothing dancing on the winds to speak back to him.


Crouching before him once more, my hands rested upon my thighs as my eyes watched, fascinated. "You feel as though you have no purpose." Strange, for this was the first time that I, myself, had felt a belonging somewhat to these mortals. "You pull your emotions away and hold them within, prisoner," I accused.

How our roles had reversed was incomprehensible to me. I should not be the one to pull a mortal back from the brink of insanity when my own human emotions still troubled me.

"Speak. Now. For I shall not stand by and watch you destroy yourself."

Ah what fools these mortals be...

((Open to Wesley))

1 demon slain | kill your demons

The Other Shoe [09 Dec 2004|06:13pm]

[ mood | grumpy ]

As talks go, I guess the one I had with Faith hadn't gone all that badly. Sure, we were in just about complete disagreement when it came to Spike, but like I'd told her, that wasn't the point of talking to her. Unfortunately, the real point had been to find out anything she remembered about her fight with The First that would give us any kind of help.

That part, well, it didn't go so well. Faith hadn't been able to share anything that we didn't already know. And we knew just about nothing.

And out of everything, that was the worst part. With almost everything we'd gone up against, there was something that we could find out about it. Most things, except maybe Illyria, weren't so old or so rarely seen that there was next-to-nothing written about it in the kind of books we had. And we had been able to find Illyria in one of the more ancient volumes we had.

But The First came before everything and was almost always acting through intermediaries. There was so little recorded about the goddamn thing that every move we made was just flailing in the dark.

Speaking of flailing, though, I start to wonder just when The First was going to take another swing at us. I couldn't reember ever being this willing to see the big bad on our doorsetp, but it had been way too long since any of us had scene the thing. Time was not our ally.

Right now, we were huddling together, circling the wagons and waiting for the rain of fire-- scared, timid and confused. As I walked back up into the lobby, all I could think about was wondering when it would finally all come down around us.

((Open to anyone.))

1 demon slain | kill your demons

[05 Dec 2004|11:29pm]

I hate guilt. It's nagging and constant, and no wonder it makes Angel so broody. I feel like I threw in the towel a little too soon on the research. I do not apologize in any way for the fake yawns and loud sighs of frustration, because if I'd have had to stare down at those dusty pages for five more minutes, I probably would have ended up with some kind of impaired sense of vision. The physical kind--not the mental pictures. Now I'm starting to think that we should have kept going for a while longer. Illyria's not the best source of information; but that has to do with her being creepy and mentally unstable. The point is, she thought that those books were useful, and who knows, maybe she has a sense about these things.

Her "sense" was my logic when I went downstairs to pick up another book to read over. It has nothing to do with me trying to help pick up the slack now that Fred's gone; even though I do make an effort not to mention science related things around Wesley. I don't want to do more damage, especially with our Fred version of Violet Beauregarde running around. She's a perfect reminder of everything that Fred wasn't. Cold, empty, confused--Illyria is nothing like the warm, intelligent little sister who was determined to keep fighting.

I wish I could find a way to hate her for it.

I'd never tell Wesley my opinion on this, but I think Illyria is just as much a victim as the rest of us are. She's trapped, and probably scared. On top of being scared, I doubt that she understands anything about fear.

I think I pity her, and I hope to God that Fred wouldn't mind.
2 demons slain | kill your demons

Lost [02 Dec 2004|09:13pm]

[ mood | determined ]

I canted my head as I watched Wesley's movements carefully. They were uncontrolled, so unlike the mortal I had grown to know. I wondered at the experience we had shared with The Shell thanks to the witch's sorcery, yet laughter filled my ears.


"Wesley." I was confused. What was humorous?

"Yes, I learned quite a bit from that experience..."

Then he was gone in a movement of blur and I was left alone again in this world which no longer had a need for me save to fight, to kill...to stand besides the supposed heroes in a battle that would drench my hands with blood and...

And would make me...valuable.

I realized, then, that Wesley did not value me, would never value me. His mutterings and incoherent ramblings as he fumbled for kisses from a dead woman were proof enough. But now? Now he appeared lost in his thoughts of her, as I had once been.

Where I had been broken and repaired, he was my mirror.

I could bide my time - God-Kings had all the time in the world! It slipped through my fingers as dust once! - and I waited for him to return.

For this time, it would be I who guided, not he.

kill your demons

[15 Nov 2004|12:42pm]

I ran down the hall maybe a dozen steps or so before I realized I didn't know where I was going. While a 'dozen' steps might not be the most accurate obsevation I had ever made, after all I hadn't been counting during my flight, it was still somehow the thing I was surest of at this exact moment.

When I looked behind me, I could see it. Twelve feet or so from what was now my bedroom stretched between the door - and me. A dozen steps, or very close to it. There was truth there.

It was a clear picture, and when I looked back I could see it all. The floor, the walls, and all the rooms spaced just so. It was as painless as the motion could ever be.

Looking back was never easy anymore, if only because it felt like most of what I was lay behind me. My absolute best friend, my absolute best love, my absolutle best moments. Did I have any of my bests left to give? Or was I just best at remembering now?

I looked at the door to my room again and my cheeks colored with guilt. Illyria and Wesley were trapped in there with a different kind of memeory, and it was all my doing. I had connected to Illyria downstairs, and because of that spark I might have done something rash. She was trapped in the memories too, caught in looking back. Only she didn't know what she was holding on to, or have enough of the peices to find comfort in what she was seeing. The best of Illyria would be found in the present and future tense. I was sure of it.

I didn't know how really. It was just there.

Just like I was still standing in a hallway by myself, looking back. Doing what I was best at again. I realized I wasn't sure where to go. This wasn't my home, so my body wouldn't mindlessly move itself to a place it could find comfort in. I didn't have a favorite chair, or a kitchen stool near some afternoon light, or a pet to curl up with. I was going to have to make a decision of where to go.

My room was out of the question, and the idea of just sitting in another empty one somehwhere depressed me. I took measured steps down to the lobby where I stood more a moment staring at the couches that were scattered about the room. Finally I looked through the side door to the garden that sat just outside them.

Yes. I could handle that.

I slipped through the doors quietly, and sat down on the low stone wall of the fountain. I looked back at where I had just come from for a long moment, then stopped and glanced at the water that danced in front of me.

Then I concentrated on not looking anywhere at all.

((open to Wesley))
6 demons slain | kill your demons

Just Me [05 Nov 2004|05:56pm]

[ mood | contemplative ]

I stayed in the smaller kitchen after Angel left for a couple of reasons.

One, I really liked my coffee.

Two? I didn't want to have to go out there and face everyone, telling them that after all this talking, Angel and I had come up with...nothing. No big plans, except for the whatever-spell he'd mentioned we could put on the hotel. Nothing. Sure, Xander was supposed to be talking to Cordelia to see if she'd had visions, but I hadn'r talked to Xander so...no clue there. Willow was supposed to be talking to the blue girl to see what she knew since Angel said she was all old or something. Dawn was supposed to be with Connor - which I actually hoped was going well, seeing as how Angel was right. They were the only kids in the hotel and sometimes, I'd bet, we left them out of things. Not on purpose, but y'know how it goes.

Wesley was our research guy and I hadn't seen him around...Gunn? No clue...Lorne was maybe in his room? Or possibly dead, for all I knew since I wasn't moving.

Which, of course, brought me to my two least favorite people at the moment.

Ok, so here I am TRYING to wrap my mind around the weirdness that is Spike and Faith. After all of my time with Faith recently, I'd thought we'd come to some sorta agreement. Or truce, or whatever. But, no. She comes in with Spike - who, HELLO! Last time I'd seen him he was dead! - and they are now a psuedo-couple.

I didn't know who I was more angry at. Spike, Faith, or myself.

Maybe The First was really a good guy, and that was the reason it had chosen to beat them up. Like, a special Buffy-gift or something.

Angel talking to Faith would be good, since I just could NOT bring myself to talk to her yet. And Spike? Ok, so sooner or later I'd have to talk to him and everything, but...it hurt. I wasn't sure why, but it did.

At least I wasn't this messed up when I talked to Angel, but I think he was. Y'know, with having a son and whatever it was he had or didn't with Cordelia. Yeah, I'd given my stupid little speech to him, yeah, he'd come to Sunnydale, like, VERY recently to help me out and kissed me and...yeah. Tall, dark stranger waltzing in to help save the day when you least expect it. Must be part of his job description in his whole "I will redeem myself" thing.

Ok, back to The First. Cuz I so needed to stop thinking about Angel. And I would. Right now.

I took another sip of coffee and stayed right where I was.

kill your demons

I don't know what's worth fighting for. [02 Nov 2004|06:05pm]

[ mood | annoyed ]

The long white fistwrap tightened around my clenched hand and I glared at the heavy bag hanging from its iron post as though it were challenging me. The silent words it used to taunt me, though, came from voices in my own pretty lil' head. Spike's, Soulboy's, even fuckin' B.. it was like they were all swirlin' into one big circle jerk. "Fuck!" I hissed when I slammed a fist against the hard cushion which turned out to be the same hand I punched the wall with. It fuckin' hurt let me tell you, but it made the whole workout more intense. Pretty fuckin' wicked. The music I had blarin' from the radio sure didn't help the scene.

I began kickin' and punchin' away like there was goin' be no tomorrow for me and that THIS was gonna be the only method I had to get the fustrations out of me. As the workout stretched my mind lingered more, wonderin' exactly where the hell I was going. The look Soulboy gave me when I arrived in the hotel was pasted in my head like a pretty little polaroid and I pushed myself harder.. the moistoned sweat already buildin' all over my form.

Good thing I made a small retreat. Had to have a little time to myself to get my thoughts back together. I was one confused bitch with issues and that's somethin' that won't help everyone kick The First's ass. In fact, I think that's what made 'im get me. Yeah, that was fuckin' it. I gave the bastard that opportunity the moment I saw him wear Woody's face and let the emotions take control over me. I really needed to learn some self control.

I had to get ahold of myself so I stopped to regain my breath, my eyes waverin' over the radio which was now playin' "Easier To Run" by Linkin Park. Hilarious. Half the songs I was able to hear from them basically described my life, the entire mess I'm in. It'd be easier to ditch this joint and head my merry own way.. didn't understand what was stoppin' me. What WAS stopping me?

That's when I saw the amulet. Same one good ol' Willy popped out of.

A sigh left my lips and I shook my head, returnin' back to my workout when I felt the emotions pump through me again. Don't know what the hell was goin' on with that. I guess Spike was right in a way, I didn't know what the hell I wanted. It was nice for once to just be accepted by someone who didn't know much about the messy trails I had behind me... fuck, right now, it was just nice to be with someone period. Yet again, I still feel like I'm livin' within B's shadow. How'm I supposed to know who he was thinkin' of while we were doin' the horizontal mambo?

Did I care if he did or not? I don't know. I still don't like the idea though I'm always second place when it comes to her.. maybe that's what gettin' to me. Yeah, that's it. A breath was takin' in as I realized I was only confusin' myself more. Great.. fuckin'.. dandy. I was one hell of a piece of work.

The wounds upon my fist were beginning to open again but I really didn't give a shit.. I think the pain upon it was the only reminder to me that I was still real.

(( Open to anyone. Whoo angst! ))

10 demons slain | kill your demons

A Decision [31 Oct 2004|01:58pm]

"Do it."

Illyria's words stayed with me several hours I had finally freed myself of her grasp and made my way up to the room I had been given. No, not several hours - all the hours. From the moment I made that offer, to the next moment as I was walking back down the stairs, she was with me.

Funny how many people lived in that one word. She. And maybe not as funny, how between the moment that I left and the moment I returned? That was just another single moment. Hours, stretching and living together as I came to fully understand just what I was about to do. No, that wasn't funny at all.

I was going to do this, help Illyria. But that didn't sound right. Now that I am away from that conversation, and all the things that were said, who am I to know what would help her? And that isn't because she was some kind of God, after all...I had weilded that kind of power once. I knew what Illyria saw when she looked at me. I knew, and a part of me hated...

It wasn't because I couldn't relate to her that I had second, and third, and thirtieth thoughts about what I was about to do. It was because I could relate. I read the grief in her features, and that is where my heart wavered. Who am I to presume that I can teach her how to deal with grief?

It isn't something I had done very well on my own.

Read more...Collapse )
25 demons slain | kill your demons

Getting to Work... Sure [25 Oct 2004|11:00pm]

[ mood | contemplative ]

Buffy and I broke up our little micro-strategizing session with every intention of getting back to business. She had some of her people to talk to and make sure they knew the full extent of what The First might be springing on all of us, particularly them. I was determined to find out just how much information Wes and the others had been able to glean about our new/old enemy.

Of course, once we got downstairs, the few people we did manage to find were all in pretty intense or closed-off conversations. There was a weird, kind of disconnected feeling to being a leader and not really seeming to have anything to do at the moment.

When it became apparent that there really was nobody around who was free or inclined to do any talking. Buffy and I just sort of shrugged at each other, and went looking for someplace else to have a seat other than the floor in a hallway. We found ourselves in the small kitchen, the one we used instead of the massive industrial-sized kitchen that served the hotel's old banquet rooms.

It wasn't exactly a gourmet's dream, but all of the mortal members of Angel Investigations had insured that the place had the very finest-- and very strongest-- coffee we could manage, even on our paltry budget. So, I fixed two mugs of the stuff, wrapping my hands around my mug just to feel the warmth and smell the aroma, and sliding the other to Buffy.

"Well," I said, smirking, "I'm feeling pretty superfluous at the moment, how 'bout you? Seems like we're just gonna have to wait to hear back from our people, huh?"

((Open to Buffy.))

6 demons slain | kill your demons

Taking stock. [18 Oct 2004|12:37pm]

[ mood | complacent ]

Gunn held true to his word after parting ways with Angel. With all of the new houseguests, there was a lot of work to be done. Someone else would have to be put on laundry duty... there weren't many household chores Gunn wouldn't do, but he absolutely refused to handle other people's dirty sheets or scrub toilets. Everything else was easy. His first stop was the kitchen, hoping to find it empty so that he might take a quick inventory of their food supply. Food, he thought, was their number one priority. Once he knew what they had and what they needed, he'd round up a few others to accompany him on a food run.

Luckily, the kitchen had been abandoned by the time he got there. Having grabbed a small notepad and a pen from the front desk on his way in, he quickly began to appraise their food supply, stooping down and starting with a low cupboard that served as a dry pantry for cereal and a wide variety of canned foods. Unfortunately, he found that the cabinent was almost empty upon inspection. "Cereal... check," he said with a sigh, scribbling on his pad.

He reached back and began to rummage through what little was left in the cupboard, freezing when his fingers touched on a box of empty taco shells. Those had been bought especially for Fred, he remembered. He grimaced, getting back to his feet and moving on to the next cabinent.

He felt pathetic, unable to take a simple inventory without thinking about Fred. It was a fresh wound, and it still stung. He'd never thought Fred would be the first of them to go... he'd always thought she would be around long after the rest of them. She was too smart to get herself killed, too cautious... at least, that's what he'd believed. But now she was gone, leaving a gaping hole in her stead. That demonic shell did nothing to fill it. She only made the pain worse.

Sighing again, he leaned back against the counter and rubbed at the back of his neck, fixing his gaze on his feet. Fred had been so much more than their resident brain... she had been a source of strength, courage. Gunn wanted to go on fighting, he knew he had to, but without Fred to cheer him on... it was going to be hard.

((Open to anyone who feels like talking to a melancholy Gunn.))

13 demons slain | kill your demons

Someplace to go [11 Oct 2004|04:14pm]

[ mood | discontent ]

Unfortunately, my brief conversation with Giles had confirmed my worst apprehensions-- that there was so precious little in any written history known to humans regarding The First that there might as well be none. Not a single whit of information regarding weakness or the source of its power, and certainly nothing about the possiblity of it gaining tangibility. My research had quite literally reached a dead end, and I had no idea what next to do.

I walked through the lobby, stepping into the office. The office, which I supposed now might be more properly termed 'Angel's office', as I was persona non grata for some time and Angel would have obviously resumed the mantle of leadership. Still, as it was currently unoccupied, and as I was looking for a place where I might be able to gather my thoughts... and, perhaps, hide out from faces I didn't particularly feel like seeing at the moment.

I left the door ajar enough to listen for anything resembling trouble, and settled behind the desk with one of the books that was safe-kept here in the office.

((Open to anyone in the lobby.))

7 demons slain | kill your demons

A Face I Used to Know [04 Oct 2004|11:21pm]

"Will, if it's a no-go on the mojo, could you check up with that blue chick? She sorta freaks me out. Plus, Angel says you knew Fred so maybe you could talk to her and it would, I dunno, actually make sense?"

I thought about Buffy's words as I headed to Illyria. Yes, Fred and I had understood each other frighteningly well, and I don't think I would ever hear her name again without being sad that I would never get to know her even better, possibly taking our 'yammering' to new heights. But I would also to have been blind to think that any realationship with Fred would have helped me better communicate with the creature before me.

That was not Fred.

Illyria's back was towards me, arms extended as she waved then in a strange motion over books spread out before her. Quietly I walked about to the other side of the desk so that I could meet her eyes.

They were ice blue.

I hadn't noticed that before.

I held her gaze.


((open to Illyria))
13 demons slain | kill your demons

Training. [02 Oct 2004|07:51pm]

There was a loud clatter as Connor set his armful of weapons down on the basement's cold cement floor. He'd grabbed everything he thought they might need, including some extra guards and padding from the weapons locker. Dawn had said that she was interested in swordplay, but it was important to teach her the basics first. Blocking, specifically. She would be going nowhere fast if she didn't know how to block. Connor had brought down his own broadsword for himself, but he had brought a wider variety of weapons for Dawn: longswords, shortswords, a rusty-looking broadsword, and two rapiers -- one for each of them. Judging by her size and skill level, that last one would be the best place to start.

Sitting himself down on a dusty old cardboard box, he clasped his hands together and rested his elbows on his knees, looking towards the stairs as he waited for Dawn to appear. This, at the very least, was going to be very interesting. He silently hoped that she could at least keep her balance... he didn't think they would get very far if she spent the whole lesson crashing into things.

((Tag to Dawn!))
18 demons slain | kill your demons

[02 Oct 2004|02:09am]

It took enough fake yawns for him to get the hint, but Wesley finally called it a night on research. And him actually telling me to get some sleep? That just meant my performance was particularly Oscar worthy. It wasn't that I didn't want to help, I just didn't have anything else to give at the moment. Besides, this whole thing with my newfound sympathy for Illyria? It caught me off guard, and I know it was the shocker of the year for Wes. I think that I'm starting to understand how confusing this world is for someone who doesn't know how it works. It's probably similar to the way that I felt in Pylea. The feeling of complete cluelessness sucks, especially when you're used to being in the know about stuff like that. She needs less criticism and more constructive suggestions with positive reinforcement. Like a puppy.

If no one else wants to do the dirty work, it's not going to kill me to help Wes get her housebroken. It might take me to levels of insanity, but if I end up with a room at the loony bin, I'll have my best friend there to keep me company.

God, I need to talk to him about that...preferably not when we have such a huge problem to deal with, but sometime soon. We need some one-on-one time to talk about Fred, and about Illyria. I won't let him deal with this on his own, Wesley deserves better than that; I think we both do.

Time for bed, or maybe just for a little downtime, I haven't had much of that lately...especially if you define 'lately' as the past four years.

I let my hair down and threw the ponytail clip on the bureau, then took out my pajamas and started to unfasten the buttons on my shirt when Xander walked in.

That's what I get for leaving the door open.

"Hey. Is it obvious that I really wasn't expecting that anybody would be looking for me tonight?"

It's not like he's getting a new view, the stuff I used to wear when I violated the dress code in Sunnydale was probably worse than this. I smiled and started buttoning up my shirt again.

"What's going on?"

(open to Xander)
18 demons slain | kill your demons

Different direction [21 Sep 2004|04:42pm]

Quite a bit of time passed-- hours, perhaps, I didn't even bother checking my watch, as I'd found that had a tendency to slow research time down to a crawl. Illyria had pointed out a few more books for Cordy and myself to crack, but had been largely not that helpful in narrowing down the field to useful information. And so, with my own eyes starting to blur and a rather melodramatically loud yawn from Cordy, I adjounrned the session. A much smaller pile of books, most with slips of paper marking possibly important pages now faced the next round of scrutiny. At least we'd managed to pare things down.

I left Cordy no doubt on her way back to her room for some rest. Illyria seemed content to remain behind the desk and commune with the potted plant.

Leaning against the front desk, I stood rubbing my chin in thought as I tried to suss out anything that I might have inadvertently missed in research. Unable to think of anything useful, I turned back towards the stairs to search out someone with both experience with The First and the expertise to help me analyze it.

Rupert Giles.

((Open to Giles.))
2 demons slain | kill your demons

I just hope he doesn't ask me to sing [19 Sep 2004|04:43pm]

[ mood | contemplative ]

Talking with Gunn had done a pretty good job of keeping my spirits up. Okay, so maybe it was a little bit of false optimism, as we really had absolutely no idea what in the hell to do about The First and its new bag of tricks. But Gunn's confidence in the team's ability to beat the odds reminded me of the fact that we had done so a whole lot of that in the last few years.

I crossed through the lobby, heading for the stairs. Buffy, Willow and Xander were standing together in a small knot over to one side, and the sight made me smile. There was something just as encouraging about seeing those three being those three. Like anything in the world could happen, and as long as those three were friends, it'd be okay.

There had been a time when it had been like that for me, Cordy and Wes.

I wasn't jealous. No. Maybe a little.

Speaking of Wes and Cordy, they were gathered behind the front desk, in full-on research mode. Of that, I was definitely not jealous. Illyria creeped me out as much as anyone else, and how Wes could stand to be around it as much as he was, I couldn't quite get. Why he did it, though, I think we had all known.

I walked upstairs, and found myself outside Lorne's door. I knocked softly.

"Lorne? It's Angel."

Waiting, I just hoped that a reading wasn't in order tonight.

((Open to Lorne.))

18 demons slain | kill your demons

Just the Scoobies [14 Sep 2004|11:46pm]

[ mood | hopeful ]

I smiled at Xander and Willow, one arm around each of them. This was right. This felt right. "I wonder where Dawnie went, I mean...ok, I sorta lied to her when I said Connor wanted to see her, I was really just suggesting since Angel was suggesting and...I mean...eww, they're like cousins or something!"

Bad bad bad thoughts. Go away.

I looked across the lobby to where Faith and Spike were still standing and sighed. What was up with them? Ok, besides the obvious.

"Anyone here besides me think the whole Spike and Faith thing is just...ick?"

Not that I was jealous. Cuz I sooo wasn't. It was...it...it was FAITH! And SPIKE! I shook my head as if that would actually help work.

"Um, so...when I talked with Angel, it actually really didn't help much." I nodded over to where Wesley, Cordelia, and the Blue Girl (couldn't remember her name) were looking up stuff in books. "But we have our crack team researching The First since it's all corporeal."

I frowned at Willow. "And, what's wrong with using magic to help? Don't you guys think we need as much help as possible to stop it?"

((Open for Willow and Xander))

8 demons slain | kill your demons

I've got a friend in you... [14 Sep 2004|07:35pm]

I gave Xander a smile and pulled Connor out of the kitchen and stopped just before entering the lobby. Buffy and Willow were still there, and I knew Buffy would totally say something about me taking a boy to my room. "Okay," I whispered. "My bags are right over there," I said pointing towards the door. "So let's get them real quick before Buffy tries to stop us." I could almost hear her now. "Dawnie, what do you think you're doing?" But if we got in and out quick enough, it wouldn't be a problem.

I grabbed Connor by the arm and quickly moved us towards the bags. After we had both grabbed what was there, I headed for the elevator. I could tell Buffy and Willow were watching us, so I figured I should say something. "Going to get all settled, see you later for dinner!" And before either of them could say anything we were both in the elevator and the doors were already closing.

I pushed the button for the third floor and stepped out once the doors reopened. What room was I going to stay in again? Geez Dawn you really need to pay more attention. Well I didn't want Connor to think I was completely clueless, so I headed down the hall and picked a random room. I just hoped I could remember which one it was when I left later. Fortunately, it was empty, and pretty big, so I dropped the bags on the floor and flopped down on the bed with my backpack.

"Just drop them right there," I said with a smile as I unzipped my bag and began rooting through it. In a couple of seconds, I had found what I was looking for. "Score!!" I exclaimed happily, pulling out my secret stash of candy bars. "So what will it be? Butterfinger, Snickers, Twix or Reese sticks?"
13 demons slain | kill your demons

Review the Troops [10 Sep 2004|08:44am]

[ mood | frustrated ]

With not a lot accomplished by our little meeting apart from warming our friendliness back up, Buffy and I left the office and split up. Both of us were concerned with "our people"-- although, now that I think about it, everyone in the hotel now counted as "our" people.

That was a situation that could get very interesting. I wondered if everyone, Buffy and myself included, was ready for us both to be in charge. Hmm.

Wes, Cordy and Illyria were a knot behind the front desk. Good, they were doing what I'd hoped they would. I didn't count on Illyria sharing, or even having any information on The First that would really give us an edge, but we had to try everything. All we had to do was miss one possibility, and we'd all be dead and the world with us.

Spike and Faith were over on the other side of the room, and I think that was best. I didn't want to think about them at the moment, beyond hoping that Faith knew what she was doing.

Turning, I headed off into the hotel to find the others.

((Open to Gunn and/or Lorne.))

7 demons slain | kill your demons

Safe here in my room. [09 Sep 2004|10:17pm]

[ mood | blank ]

One night. Connor had told Angel that he would stay at the hotel for one night. That had been nearly twenty-four hours ago. He had made himself scarce for most of the day, staying shut up in his room to avoid the newcomers as well as the Angel Investigations crew. The lobby had been cleaned up, the injured had been cared for... he knew he wouldn't be missed much if he decided not to show his face for awhile.

Now he was simply sprawled out on his bed, staring up at the ceiling with his hands resting on his stomach. He frowned, letting out a brief sigh and reaching to run his thin fingers through his hair. His pride told him to leave now, to go back to that little loft he called home and to leave Angel behind, prove that he could make it on his own, take care of himself. His stomach was telling him not to listen to his pride, that his pride was a moron and that he would be much better off staying at the Hyperion, where there was plenty to eat and a real bed to sleep in, not to mention several bathrooms with working toilets and hot water.

His stomach, so far, was winning the fight, though he knew there would be drawbacks to staying. The tension between his father and himself seemed to have lessened some, but not enough to talk about -- and Connor was fairly sure that after recent events, their progress didn't much matter anymore. Staying at the hotel would only remind him of all that had happened, of all that he had unknowingly brought upon all those who lived there as well as the LA populace. Jasmine had come and gone and left utter chaos in her wake, and already a new enemy was upon them.

While he didn't know much about their new foe, he knew that the others had to blame him for the former. He certainly blamed himself. He didn't know how he could have forseen the consequences of his actions, but it didn't matter. Hindsight was not necessarily always 20/20. He wanted to stay... but knowing how the others must feel about him now didn't do much in the way of convincing him to do so. Aside from that... the whole hotel reeked of Jasmine. Everything there now reminded him of her, of the peace he had felt when she had walked among them. He had known it was a lie right from the start... but it was a nice lie. A lie he really wanted to believe in, unlike so many of the others he had been told.

He sighed again and rolled over onto his left side, glancing at the digital alarm clock on the nightstand. It was past dinnertime... he suddenly realized how hungry he was. He grunted softly, shutting his eyes tight for a moment before resolving to get up. He hit the floor with nothing but socks on his feet, leaving his sneakers behind as he made his way out into the corridor and towards the stairs. The prospect of a real dinner was enough to make him brave the wave of newcomers, though he still hoped he wouldn't have to talk to any of them. Maybe if he just avoided eye contact...

((Open to anyone.))

7 demons slain | kill your demons

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