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Sacraments [08 Nov 2004|12:01am] [ mood | contemplative ] Brianna had served her purpose, and served it well. But she was young and inept, and Mercy would not take the chance of having her ministry discovered so soon. The girl stood dressed in a white shroud. Mercy smiled at her, reassuring, and donned a pair of elbow-length rubber gloves while two of her congregation removed the heavy marble top of the baptismal font, leaving the holy water open to her purpose. "Are you ready, child?" Mercy asked the girl. Brianna nodded nervously. "I am," she replied, shaking. Mercy took her by the hand and led her towards the baptismal font. "The grace and peace of God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ be with you, Brianna, and all of you," she stated loudly. Dutifully, Brianna and the congregation replied, "And also with you." Mercy smiled. "Today Brianna will join our Blessed Lady of Sorrows and all of us, as she will be baptized into our church. It is a day of celebration." The congregation murmured, "Amen." "Do you accept the Lord Jesus Christ, your Savior, into your heart, Brianna?" Mercy asked. The girl nodded. There were tears now. "I do," she said. Mercy smiled and gestured towards the baptismal font, and Brianna lowered her head. Rubber gloves intact, Mercy pressed gently on the back of the girl's head to push her under the water. "May the Lord accept the sacrifice at Your hands, for the praise and glory of His name, for our good and the good of all His church," she spoke out loud to her congregation. They pulled the kneelers down in their pews and knelt, penitent. After a moment's time, she began to struggle. Mercy sighed somewhat sadly. She had hoped the holy water would cleanse Brianna of her doubts, but it hadn't. Nevermind that, of course. She pushed harder, holding the girl beneath the water as she struggled, a few tiny splatters of the water splashing onto her face and burning there. It didn't really hurt, not anymore. She was well used to it. Cleansed by the pain. Tempered in fire. Soon Brianna stopped her struggles, and with the help of the two vampires serving as altar boys, she lifted the girl - just barely alive - onto the altar. A quick flash of steel and a gash was opened along the side of her throat, where Mercy filled her chalice. The congregation lined up for communion; the vampires in front, and the humans in the back of the line. reply

[08 Nov 2004|12:54am] Connor walked along next to Dawn, not paying that much attention to their surroundings. They'd taken a drive to Vegas after he'd gotten off of work, both wanting a little bit of a breather from Searchlight...and maybe a little alone time. Connor didn't want to complain aloud or anything, but he was starting to feel a little crouded in the house. Sometimes, he would just like to know it was just him and Dawn there, so they could have some privacy. He reached out to snag her hand as they walked though, giving her a little smile. He liked being physically connected to her, even if it was just this kind. Dawn skirted a little closer to Connor as a passing roller blader whizzed by, nearly tripping but managing to keep her balance. Noting that smile, she squeezed his hand and darted one back, leaning in a touch once the sidewalk cleared enough not to worry about bumping into people. "Hm, we should have done this earlier. I don't know about you, but I'm beginning to see why the rent was so low....we're getting a lot of housemates. I met another one the other day.." ( Yes Connor, the house is a magnet for dead things. Deal with it. ) ( Getting accosted by a lunatic who sees a little too much about Dawn. ) ( Connor gets into storytelling mode. ) (  'So how many apocalypses have -you- been through?' And memory issues. ) ( Where Dawn proves that she isn't a deranged fangirl, just...deranged. ) ( Needing to find someplace private. Okay, semi-private. Right now. ) reply

[08 Nov 2004|12:05pm] The name's Skip Novak. I've done lived here in Searchlight all my gawddang life. Now there's all these folks, come in from outta town, sayin' there's weird things goin' on. I'll tell you weird. Last week, this lady comes into the GenSto (that's the General Store, if you're not in the knowin') and she wants French cigarettes. Does this look like Paris to you? I don't parlee voo no Francine. You want French cigarettes? You can drive on into LV and try that little miniature France they've got right there, that's what I say. Though, with the new faces movin' in, we did get a new bar, so they can't be all bad. Got a lot of lady bartenders, too. No, sir. Can't be bad, at all. I'd stick around awhile to chat, but the Harvest Parade's this afternoon and I'm supposed to be pushin' one of the floats. reply

Pt. Chevreuil, Louisiana, Atchafalaya Bay -- 2:47 a.m. [08 Nov 2004|01:56pm] [ mood | indescribable ] After spending days in the dank, humid swamps of Bayou Lafourche, tracking his quarry to the coast was nearly a relief. Jade had been wondering if the Ga'har demon had a touch of the gris-gris. Bad magic. Bad for Jade, good for the demon bitch he'd been hunting for weeks. He'd caught a glimpse of her amidst the moss-encrusted trees in the heart of the bayou, and then he'd gone down face-first in a hidden pocket of slimy, stagnant water. When he'd regained his footing, she was gone, as easily as if she had vanished. Now she was close to being his. Being exhausted, wounded and probably as ravenously hungry as he was had caused the Ga'har demon to become careless. Jade had her cornered in a small cave just offshore. No escape. Ten feet and closing in. He paused and spoke into the voice-activated digital recorder he wore, his soft, lightly accented drawl carrying in the night air: "November 5th, 2:47 a.m. Approximate temperature seventy degrees. Ga'har female apprehended and dispatched." Jade was nothing if not confident. He moved closer, unsheathing his knife. The bounty he'd collect from this one would keep him in crawfish etouffee for weeks. Not the time to think of food; he was just so damned hungry right now. Closer. At the mouth of the cave he could hear her harsh breathing. The coppery scent of blood filled the air and Jade stopped, letting his eyes adjust to the low light. He tightened his fingers around the handle, smiling faintly. "Come to Papa," he murmured, although the Ga'har most likely did not speak his language. A low snarl was his answer, and he moved in. She was slight but well-muscled; her strange yellow eyes held his as they struggled on the floor of the cave. Demonically strong she might be, but she was no match for a determined bounty hunter with a knife. Jade sank the blade into her abdomen, pulling up with all his strength, hoping to hit the heart; his research had told him it was in the middle of the chest cavity in a Ga'har. Defiant to the end, she spat in his face. Grimacing, Jade wiped away thick spittle and glowered at the dying demon. "Fuckin' bitch," he muttered. Air puffed out of her mouth, much like a balloon deflating, and she raised one arm. He caught a glimpse of something small and shiny, and before he could react, the Ga'har placed her hand firmly on the back of his neck. Cold. Jade jerked frantically, trying to escape the searing pain, his eyes wide and shocked. How could something be cold and yet burn at the same time? What had she done to him? The Ga'har died, the unholy light in her eyes fading. Jade Deveraux, third generation demon bounty hunter, lost consciousness. reply

[08 Nov 2004|06:16pm] "You know what you need?" Cera said, it was more a remark then a question, as she set the glass down in front of Zan as she sat at one of the bars within the casino. Zan's shift had ended and normally after changing out of her wetsuit she found her way to the bar Cera worked at to have something to drink and a little conversation before heading home. "A good nights sleep?" was her reply. Fingers encircled the glass of lemon water before her, lifting it up she gave a look to Cera as she took a sip of the drink. Cera had been the first friend she had made after arriving in Las Vegas, they had literally run into each other. Zan was running late for her interview for a position at the Dolphin Habitat and was hurrying through the hotel when she bumped into Cera who was delivering some drinks to one of the gambling tables during downtime at the bar. Down went the tray and drinks Cera had been holding, apologies given to her by Zan as she continued in a rush past and a few unpleasanties called out by Cera in return. Who would have thought then that now they would be the best of friends. "Alright, so there are two things you need." smirking as she moved to the far end of the bar to see what the young couple that had just seated themselves at the bar wanted. After filling their order and taking payment for the drinks Cera walked back to Zan to continue their conversation. "You need a good night's sleep and a little vacation." She continued. "I don't have the time which to take a vacation." Another drink taken of her water before she let the glass lower to the counter. "You won't need much time." Cera bent down to where she had stashed her purse on the floor beneath the counter, only a moment needed to fish out the folded envelope she had shoved into her purse. "Besides it would be a favor to me." Unfolding the envelope, a letter was taken out and spread on the counter for Zan to look over. "It appears I have inherited a house from an Aunt Miranda who passed away." She had spoken by phone with her parents who now lived in New York and they confirmed that Miranda was her aunt, her mother's sister who her mother hadn't seen or spoken to in fifteen years, so it was assumed that since Miranda had had no children of her own and her husband had long passed, that that was the reason the place had been given to Cera, she was after all family. "Well, that is what the letter says." Looking up from the letter she had been reading over. "Come on, Zan....it will be fun, sort of a road trip." Giving her a grin while she took the letter, folding it back up and slipping it back into the envelope which was then returned to her purse beneath the counter. "I've never heard of Searchlight, Nevada." "Neither have I, but I did a bit of research and found it is only about an hours drive from here, so you would only need two days tops for this little adventure." Cera definitely was not going to take no for an answer and would continue to press things until she got Zan to agree to go. "Oh, alright!::giving in knowing Cera would resort to just about anything to make certain she had a traveling companion to accompany her. "I have the day after tomorrow off and I am sure I can get the following day off as well." Consuming the last of her lemon water before she slipped from the stool, standing now at the bar which she noticed was starting to get busier. "Thanks, Zan! You're the best!" Cera called out as she moved off to attend to the customers that had seated themselves at the bar, she was joined behind the counter by another tender as at this time of day was when things started to pick up. reply

Ask Me No Questions [08 Nov 2004|10:18pm] Connor headed in to the Lighthouse for his shift, not that he actually had to do much on it. Most of the people who would get obnoxious and violent he only had to give a flat glare to and they backed down or left. Since he'd started he'd only really had to literally toss people out twice. But hey, in this town, things could turn really quick-like. So better safe than sorry. He walked inside and took a look around. Ray unnecessarily wiped down the counter or the umpteenth time. It was slower than usual tonight. Even Old Man Sparky wasn't accompanied by his usual entourage of rednecks. She looked up to see a guy walk in. He seemed a bit familiar, likely because she'd seen him around town, but she didn't know who he was. ( Coworkers... on all fronts. )

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