Connor (prophecy_boy) wrote in iftomorrow,

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Safe here in my room.

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.))
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I came around the corner and went into the kitchen. Okay, so I wasn't exactly all that truthful about wanting to get something to drink, but I could tell that they needed a chance to talk. I mean, I may be young and not know a whole lot about the big bad world outside, but I can tell when three friends have stuff to say.

I popped open the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water. I'd just drink it in here before grabbing a few more and heading back. Or maybe I wouldn't head back at all! Then they'd have to get their own water and I'd be totally sneaky! Nah, Buffy would probably yell at me for wandering off. Or maybe not, she seemed to be getting more cool since we moved here. Maybe she's finally realizing that I'm not the baby sister anymore. Wouldn't that be totally awesome!?

I closed the door and took a step back. I was about to unscrew the lid, when I realized I wasn't alone, and I almost would have screamed, except that he didn't have any weapons or fangs (at least I don't think he did). He actually looked my age. Hey! Maybe this was Connor! Wouldn't that be all weird since Buffy was just talking about him? Or maybe this really was a set up...Nah, he was just here looking for food like me probably.

"Uh hey, I'm Dawn, Buffy's sister..." I smiled softly and tried not to look too nervous since he really didn't look like he wanted to talk. "Are you Connor?"
He'd been caught even before he'd taken two steps into the kitchen. There was a girl there. He'd seen her face before, but he couldn't put a name to it. She had laid eyes on him; he knew it was too late to slip out unnoticed. He would have to at least acknowledge her presences... talk a little. That didn't mean he had to tell her his life story. Not that he wanted to tell anyone his life story. His head hurt just thinking about it.

"Uh hey, I'm Dawn, Buffy's sister... Are you Connor?"

She already knew his name? Huh. She must have spoken to Angel. Noone else that he could think of would care enough to tell a complete stranger who "that boy upstairs" was. Telling himself to be civil, he gave her the tiniest of smiles before heading over to the fridge.

"Yeah," he told her unceremoniously, reaching inside the fridge and pulling out a can of Coke. Aside from drinks, the fridge was pitifully empty. So much for eating well tonight. Popping the metal tab, he looked up at her. She probably wanted more than a one-word response. "... nice to meet you. Are you a Slayer, too?" he asked. He was still fuzzy on how that whole Slayer thing worked. He'd heard a very little about it from Faith and Angel. Neither one them seemed to want to talk about other Slayers much.

"Yeah....nice to meet you. Are you a Slayer, too?"

Wow, I thought being Angel's son he'd be a little more personable. Boy was I wrong. But then again, the world was probably going to end and that never helps anyone's mood. Especially Buffy's. She always gets super cranky when right before she has to save the world.

"Nope, I'm just a key to another dimension," I said half jokingly. "Buffy and Faith are the only slayers, and that was an accident. I'm not even a potential." I twisted the lid off my water and took a small sip. It seemed like I was doing all the talking. Not that it wasn't the first time or anything.

"We totally need to do a food run. I mean you guys don't even have hot pockets! And let me tell you, Andrew and no hot pockets means a really unhappy Andrew." I sent another smile his way as I set the bottle of water back on the counter. Maybe he just really didn't want to talk to you Dawn. "Well, see you around I guess..."
"Nope, I'm just a key to another dimension. Buffy and Faith are the only slayers, and that was an accident. I'm not even a potential."

"That's cool," Connor told her with some amount of interest. A key to another dimension? That had to come in handy sometimes. Maybe Dawn's dimension was better than this one. She said she was Buffy's sister, but he was Angel's son and he was from a different dimension, more or less. "What's your dimension like?" he asked her, dinner forgotten for the moment. Someone else who was in his situation? Possibly. "I'm from Quor'toth, it's..." he paused. "Not nice there."

He frowned again when she mentioned the food run. "What's a hot pocket?"
I came around the corner and also went into the kitchen. Okay, okay so I had a black eye from that fight but I had also heard the activity in here and felt like I needed to see some human faces before I tucked in for the night. So tired. Hard to see straight.

"Hey living breathing human types."

I nodded to the people that were in there already and blearily opened the fridge and pulled out a stake from the freezer and put it over my eye while hoping the swelling would go down so nobody would notice.

"Hey living breathing human types."

I was about to interrupt Connor and explain the whole "key" thing, but then Xander came in, and I could tell Connor was starting to get uncomfortable. I don't really think he liked being around people, which is weird because I love it! Okay, well maybe not the stuck-up ones, but still.

I cringed a little when Xander placed the steak on his face. You know, someone might have wanted to eat that. Note to self: no steak for a while. Or ever, I could be okay either way.

"Hey Connor, wanna help me move my stuff upstairs?" Wow, that sounded like I was trying to get out of carrying stuff, but maybe he'd appreciate the out.
Connor was distracted from the conversation when Xander -- was that his name? -- walked in and put a slab of steak over his eye. He frowned a little, rubbing at the back of his neck. Was that normal? He'd never seen Angel or Wesley or Gunn do anything like that. Dawn's voice pulled him from his thoughts.

"Hey Connor, wanna help me move my stuff upstairs?"

He had really wanted nothing more than to get himself some dinner, but the kitchen was starting to feel crowded, and he had the feeling that with all the people that now inhabited the hotel, they weren't going to be the only ones looking for food. He gave a short nod. Something in Dawn's tone told him that she wanted to get out of that kitchen just as badly as she did.

"Sure," he told her. "Where is it?"