| These are the days... |
[07 Nov 2004|01:26am] |
| [ |
mood |
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 drained |
] |
It's been fairly quiet recently, with all the new help we hired. I haven't needed to be working a lot, though Claire and Jo have been incredibly busy lately. I've been pretty alone.. I should hunt up Connor and check in with him and Dawn, see how they are.
I wonder if everyone else feels a deep sense of foreboding.. it's been too quiet. I know Jo's attacker has been around the bar again, the look on Claire's face when Isaw her briefly told me all about it. I do not know if Jo knows or not. I suppose one of us should tell her.
( Info Trading )
Well damn.. that wasn't exactly productive.. however.. I guess I can't really say anything about it. Well.. I guess we'll see what Andi has in store.
Adieu for now.
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| Like Father, Not Like Daughter (Russia Flashback) |
[07 Nov 2004|05:57am] |
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( Not A Journal Item )
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| Sleepless Nights |
[07 Nov 2004|08:20am] |
| [ |
mood |
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 restless |
] |
Zandora chatted with Bree as they slipped into their wetsuits, which were required for working with the dolphins in the Habitat.
"You look like hell, you do realize that. Didn't you get any sleep last night?" Bree remarked seeing the tiredness in her eyes and the faint dark circles beneath.
"Yeah....a little." Gathering her hair, drawing it over her left shoulder before she reached behind taking hold of the pull strap attached to the zipper, the wetsuit then zipped up.
"Missing Griffin?"
"Yeah, we better get going, you know how temperamental they can sometimes get when they are not fed on schedule." A smile put on before she started for the door leading from the small locker type room they used for changing. She was glad for the change in subject, it was true she missed Grif when he was away on one of his business trips, she had slowly gotten used to it over the past six months since they had moved in together. But that was not what had had her tossing and turning the last couple of nights, waking up in the morning feeling as if she had gotten little to no sleep.
It was the dreams.
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| Journal |
[07 Nov 2004|05:14pm] |
I got a job as a waitress at a local bar. Cadence would be horrified. It'd be even worse if she saw how good I am at it. Sparky, this really rowdy old guy, has nothing on me. I never drop any plates or get an order wrong. And my co-workers are really cool! This place isn't really turning out so bad. I almost feel kind of at home here.
[Blocked]
This actually makes me a little concerned though. Slayers aren't supposed to feel at home anywhere right? And if by the off chance they do, it's usually because it's a center of demonic activity. Does that mean this place has the wonky mojo going on? It would explain a lot I guess. Like why Cadence says I'll be bound to find somebody who knows something about my condition. Or why my boss is toting around a stake. Or why I got attacked on my cab ride out here. Or why there's a ton of new people showing up lately.
[/Blocked]
I really ought to be doing research or picking up extra shifts or training or something right now. But really, I feel like going out for some fun.
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| Hospitals |
[07 Nov 2004|09:14pm] |
( Personal Journal Entry )
There was a smell about all hospitals, that lye and heavy industrial cleaner scent that made Milly feel like all her life giving capabilites were being shrivelled away, making her as dead as the building itself. There was a constant movement in a hospital as doctors, nurses and patients wheeled, ran, walked, sprinted by, and the spiritual air flucuated constantly with the abscence of one life and the birth of another.
Always moving, never ceasing. Milly tried getting coffee at the vending machine for $1.50 but it ate her money and produced nothing into her empty cup. She pressed the button again.
"Come on... come on..."
She kicked it but it only vibrated with laughter. Milly threw her hands up in frustration and stormed away, yelling, "FINE! I DIDN'T WANT COFFEE ANYWAYS!"
She went outside for a breath of fresh air and bummed a cigarette off of a haggard-looking man she found standing by the sliding doors ("Wife's having a baby. You?"). Milly thanked him and went back inside. She passed the gift shop and spotted a hideous orange bear-dog sitting in the window and a garden of lively flowers by the counter.
Milly checked her purse and came out carrying the bear-dog and a fistful of daisies. The flowers were placed next to Devon's bed, the stuffed animal on a chair. She sat back down and watched him sleep, hoped he healed.
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| Thelma & Louise |
[07 Nov 2004|10:05pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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 drunk |
] |
Aidan frowned at Emmy.
"What's with you, Em?" he asked, sitting across from her at the kitchen table.
"Me? What? I'm fine," Emmy replied, looking rather shocked.
Aidan rolled his eyes. "I'll figure it out, you know. Whatever you got yourself into now. You can't put me off forever." The spare chair at the table edged back and forth a little on its own. Emmy didn't seem to notice.
Emmy smiled at him, standing up and walking towards the phone, pausing to playfully ruffle his hair as she went past.
"Oh, you always think there's something wrong with me, Aidan. Maybe it's just you. I've got to call Des, ask her over for a bit. Might want to run and hide now."
She gave him a playful little wink.
Aidan glared back, but slunk away into the living room.
Emmy sat at the kitchen table, drumming her fingers on the pristine wooden surface and waiting to hear a knock at the back door. She rested her chin in the palm of her free hand and rested the elbow on the table top, sighing in boredom. She had called Destiny a good half hour ago to ask her to pick up a few things for William to translate - though she could have dropped them off herself, she rather felt like having a little company in the house for a change.
Aidan was in the front parlor, watching the television in a moody silence that had driven Emmy herself from the room. She had asked Destiny to come to the kitchen door, as not to disturb him. For a brief source of amusement, she began willing the magnets on the refrigerator to change position.
Destiny knocked on the kitchen door and shifted her weight. Not so good memories were attached to this house and the sooner she was in and out, the better. She really didn't feel like dealing with Aidan the Asshole, especially because of the crappy mood he had been in for weeks. You'd think he'd gotten an atomic wedgie by the way he'd been treating Will. The dislike between the two was palpable and Des was perceptive enough to catch on to it.
( Come In! )
( Busy Tonight? )
( Blowing Kisses )
( The Club )
( Individual Perspective )
( Coming and Going )
( Rendezvous )
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| An Unwanted Gift |
[07 Nov 2004|11:16pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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 moody |
] |
It took a lot to bring it out of him. He didn't like it. Never used it, not intentionally, not anymore. But it was strong and it had taken permanent hold. He had asked many for help, and they all told him the same thing.
It was strong.
It was permanent.
It could not be removed.
It was his gift.
Use it wisely.
But he didn't want to use it. He wanted it to be gone. It was just a reminder. One little dreg of his past, forced to forever remain with him, and remind him what he had done.
The anger made it worse, he knew that, but he was having a hard time keeping his temper in check. A vague, hazy memory of the aggression management therapy his parents had forced him into as a child surfaced, but he mentally pushed it away.
In doing so, a vase of dried flowers Emmy had placed on the coffee table tipped itself over.
Aidan sighed. He really had to get it in check, and soon.
He drifted off, the returned onset of telekinesis weighing heavily on his mind as the filtered voices of some stupid teen movie on the television sung him to sleep.
In his dreams, the memory of the cause began to replay itself.
( Memory )
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| Avoidant |
[07 Nov 2004|11:29pm] |
Within the smoke-filled interior of Rack 'Em Up, Star stood with one hand on her hip and the other wrapped around a pool stick. She leaned her slight weight against the wood and watched the game with vague disinterest. She was terrible at pool, a fact that bothered her little, yet intrigued the man who'd partnered with her for the game. In fact, the only thing that seemed to intrigue him more was looking at her ass when he thought she was distracted.
Her eyes flickered from the table to the rest of the room, not pausing on one face any longer than the others. The people were unimportant. What mattered to Star was her boredom. Goddess, the boredom. Not even the last few nights in Las Vegas had assauged her need for adrenaline. For excitement. The tourists turned her stomach, all of them too starry-eyed at the neon lights to know a damn thing about the city, or care that they'd cashed in their life savings for cheap gambling halls and showgirls with runs in their pantyhose.
The call from San Francisco hadn't helped. Nothing like a good guilt-tripping from her sisters to remind her just how off her game she was. She'd done nothing she'd been asked to do since she arrived. Collected none of the items, performed none of the rituals. Even Star, who'd been prone to irresponsibility since birth, had never skipped a beat when it came to her religion. Star let the coven believe she was too busy painting the town red to deal with her obligations. Subtly suggested they send someone else to do the dirty work. But deep down, she knew the reason why she waited. Star was afraid of looking the darkness in the eye and never being able to turn her back again.
She sighed and reached for her Long Island, downing the remainder in one swallow.
Her pool partner (Bruce? Brett?) with the wandering eye spoke up from her side. "Hey, gorgeous, wanna take your shot?"
Star set her glass on the side of the table and moved into position. As she bent over the green felt, one strap of her brilliant orange top slid over her shoulder. She settled the cue stick on her bridged fingers and made her shot. The solid bounced off the side and missed her target completely. Star straightened, her fingers finding the pentagram hanging over her breastbone.
Bruce/Brett sidled up to her, his voice low in her ear and his breath smelling of beer on tap. "I could teach you how to handle the stick, if you wanted. I bet you're a natural. You just need a little practice." His fingers wrapped around her hip, his thumb stroking lightly.
Star turned to face him, leaning her lower back against the table. The condescending expression she wore leveled him on the spot. She pressed her cue stick against his chest. "This is the only stick I'll be touching tonight. Take your hand off me, or it's going up your ass."
Amidst a chorus of men voicing both disapproval and raucous amusement, Star headed for the door, lifting a middle finger over her shoulder in disdain. As if she'd ever let any of them touch her.
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| Latent Abilities |
[07 Nov 2004|11:33pm] |
Midnight in the Searchlight Cemetery, and all was quiet other than the muted sounds of a scuffle from the rear of the lot. That near-silence was shattered as a vampire flew through the air towards an iron cross that marked an old grave. The metal punctured the vampire's lower back as he landed, howling in pain. From behind a solitary crypt, Rhiannon emerged, a stake in one hand. She crouched down beside the vampire and cringed. The very tip of the sharp cross was peeking through his shirt. "That's got to burn," she mused, resting her forearms on her knees. "I'll lift you off if you tell me what I want to know." She waited in that position, rolling her stake back and forth between her palms.
Shannan had been wandering aimlessly for a few hours now, reckless sort of girl that she was, she found herself drawn to the cemetary. She tried not to worry. She had plenty of stakes in various pockets, but remembering her humiliating incident with the boy-vamp on the road, Shannan kept her mind and senses on high alert. She made note of every step she made, every breath she took, and every... threat in the distance? Shannan could just barely make out the sound of a woman's voice, angry and threatening. Deciding to investigate, Shannan headed in that direction.
The vampire writhed in agony and continued to growl in pain and frustration. Rhiannon plunged her stake into the hard ground and reached into her hip pocket for a pack of cigarettes and her lighter. The red tip flared as she took her first drag and waited patiently. This one didn't have the mark, so she hadn't called Connor in for the questioning. However, she knew there was the possibility it knew something. Smoke slipped out of her lips as she said, "If you've got information on why they're being branded, you should consider leaking it to me. I've got all night." She flicked her ashes on its exposed wound and looked up at the sound of footsteps.
Shannan took a step back in surprise. She thought she was being very quiet and subtle sneaking up on the voices like she did, but the woman had immediately looked up from her business to see Shannan before her. The young girl assessed the situation quickly. Vampire. Strong woman torturing said vampire... "Ah. You must be a Slayer," Shannan spoke up timidly. "Don't mind me. I won't interupt."
Rhiannon lifted an eyebrow at the girl and stood beside the pinned the vampire. "It's alright. I don't think this one knows anything, or he would've spilled it by now. They're not known for their strength of conviction." She reached down and pulled her stake from the ground, twirling it loosely between her fingers as she eyed the demon. A ring of smoke rose from its wound, and the flesh around it burned black in an ever-widening circle. She bent over and staked him, retracting her weapon and stepping over his body before he'd disintegrated around the cross. Rhiannon continued towards the girl. "What's your name?"
( Girl on a Mission )
Filled with the hope that maybe a time when she could slay really would come, Shannan nodded in agreement. "Alright. Just until I can kick ass on my own, though." She couldn't stop her big grin. "It was nice meeting you, Rhiannon. I hope to see you again sometime." She offered her hand once more.
"Absolutely," Rhiannon replied, taking the proffered hand and shaking it firmly. She gave Shannan a wink. "And don't worry. You will." She released Shannan's hand and turned on her heel, moving off towards the rear of the cemetery. When she reached the low chainlink fence, Rhiannon leapt upwards to plant a boot on the railing and dropped to the other side before heading up the slope.
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