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And things just get worse [15 Dec 2004|12:53am] [ mood | determined ] Darla walked up the street to the bar her son was working at, a little out of breath. She'd rushed here, though now that she was coming up on the place, she was none to happy to be here. She'd told Joyce to stay at the house...just in case Dawn came back. She had the distinct impression that what she was going to tell the somewhat over-serious boy was going to make him fly off the handle. Joyce had one thing correct in her assessment of Connor. 'Protective'...that was an understatement. She may not have her memory, but her senses were still sharp, and Connor more or less had that going on 24-7 when it came to his girlfriend. It was like he was always on alert, always waiting to protect her, even when there was nothing to protect her from. Only I guess there really is now, isn't there? she thought to herself. She didn't know what was going on, she wasn't sure what the hell Dawn had seen, but she knew it was bad, whatever it was. She came up on the bar and saw Connor inside, cleaning up at the end of his shift, the bar technically closed. She watched him for a long moment. She didn't want to do this. She didn't want to walk in there and tell him there was more to worry about, more to disrupt his life, more to scowl over, just...more. He looked ok right now, just concentrating on what he was doing, no doubt looking forward to getting home and seeing Dawn and his mother. And I'm going to dissapear. she thought to herself, and that thought, for the first time, gave her a physical pain in her chest. She didn't remember him, but he felt like hers. Felt right. She liked him. He was sweet in strange little ways, had sarcasm that she could definitely relate to, and he was just a good person in general. She didn't have to remember him to want to be his mother. And she wasn't going to get to stay. She wasn't going to get to see how things worked out with him and Dawn, maybe do silly little things like plan weddings or rile grandkids before handing them back over to the parents. It's not fair! she thought bitterly, kicking at the building as she bit back her emotions. Who would do this? Put me back here just for this ammount of time, no memory, this just hurts! Now I'm going to go away again, and not get to do any of that, and Connor'll have to deal with it too, and none of this is fucking fair!! She stood there for a few long minutes, getting herself under control. Dawn was out there somewhere, and something was happening to her, and she had to do this. This wasn't about her. It wasn't ever going to be about her, and she needed to focus here. She shut her eyes and took a deep breath, and finally let herself into the bar. The pain in her chest flared again when her boy looked up at her and smiled, happy to see her. "Hey, mom, what, house get too crazy for you?" he asked, smiling at the blonde. Darla forced herself to keep her own pain away from her features, and managed it. "No...Connor, honey, I don't really want to tell you this but--" Immediately, all traces of humor or cheer slid off of his features and they set into a cold mask. "What's wrong?" he asked, tone deceptively light, but Darla could see that his grip on the bartop was so tight his knuckles had gone white. "...is everyone alright?" he asked. "Dawn's run off...she did that spell to see what was with Joycey and I, and she looked into the mirror...then she just ran off, we can't find her... I'm not sure--" she cut herself off as what she imagined would happen did, and Connor was already moving towards the door. "Connor..." He stopped, but didn't look back at her. Just stopped, hands balled into fists and he was shaking. "...she was still ok when she left...she just looked...frightened or something. I'm not sure...just...go find her. I'll look after Joyce. We'll be home if you...if you need us." she said. Connor nodded, and was out the door before she could say another word. Darla sighed, and looked around for keys to lock the place up with. She found a set behind the bar, and shut off the lights, locking up. She looked around, no trace of him anywhere. "...I love you." she said to the empty streets, and headed back to the house, fully drown in her own sorrows involving everyone...she'd just have to make sure to put her happy face back on before she saw Joyce... reply

Tristan! [15 Dec 2004|03:44am] [ mood | bitchy ] Jo paced the room with Tristan's note crumpled in her hand. This was war now, and that vampire would be just so much dust in a jar on her desk before it was over. She knew now where Nyx had been, he'd come back recently. She made a mental note to thank the FBI agent who'd worked so tirelessly for her friend and room mate. For now though, she got dressed for the hunt and settled her weaponry into place as she stepped out the door. The lousy coward was of course, nowhere to be found this evening, so she left him a note speared on the graveyard fence. Tristan, you cowardly bastard, come face me like the man you wish you could be again. No surprises, no distractions. You and me.. and I will win. reply

Get Out Of Jail Free [15 Dec 2004|03:51am] [ mood | distressed ] Jordan has been such a Godsend for me, who knew federal agents would work for the common man, rather than against him? Jo's having fits about something, I could hear her pacing up until just a moment ago, and then she stormed out of the apartment. Random! Jail was the single worst experience of my life, I swear. The other men kept giving me dirty looks and occasionally attempting to beat me into submission. So'd the guards. They're sitting there thinking I'm a girlfriend killer, bloody fucking hell! This.. Tristan... the one the beat Jo down, seems to be the culprit here as well. If I ever catch him, I know enough to kill him myself. But I won't. I'll leave it to Jo. For now, i think it's time I threw myself into my work. There's much to be done. reply

Rest In Pieces, Dear Key [15 Dec 2004|09:07am] [ mood | devious ] Rest in pieces, dear Key... Does it feel rotten, as I germinate my seed within and split you to unravel, like my pretty decaying cracks in our Earth's own dying skin? Do you feel yourself coming apart at the seams, as I hook you like a butcher with lamb and relish in your beautifully splintering self? Why, of course it does, my dear, darling girl. Of course it does... And you're going to be such a splendid thing when you finally melt back to what you truly were. You're the Key to all our dreams, you know, pretty thing. Perhaps we can give them all nightmares together instead. All in good time... All in good time. reply

Not a Journal Item [15 Dec 2004|11:16am] [ mood | crushed ] ( Help him make this right... ) reply

Drag the Waters [15 Dec 2004|01:11pm] With arms crossed over her chest, Rhiannon made her way towards her front door. Unlike her typical aversion to ending a hunt, her steps were hurried tonight. She needed to get inside and wash Tristan's blood off her hands. To try and forget what he had told her and deal with the presence of her father. She cursed the vampire for the dozenth time as she rounded the corner by her door. What is it that bothers you, Rhiannon? Oh, your father died? That's nice... Guess what I did? Rhiannon reached for the knob and practically threw it open in her rage. Head down, she entered her apartment, kicking the door shut behind her. Her father's presence in the living room brought her up short. Rhiannon froze in the entryway, a stake still in her hand and a startled look on her face. An acute sensation of deja vu washed through her, and her father's voice replayed in her mind. 'Where have you been?! I've been waiting up for hours.' Rhiannon's eyes went to the weapon in her hand as she remembered her response. 'I guess what goes around comes around, Dad.' He didn't seem to notice her hands, however. His eyes were focused on the canvas before him. He'd lifted the sheet away, revealing a portrait of Rhiannon's mother. He kept his arms across his chest as he studied it, and what Rhiannon couldn't know was how long he'd been that way. ( Over What Was ) Mitchell stared at his daughter for a second, then nodded. "Fair enough." He clasped his hands over his knees and looked around. "Got any cigarettes?" Rhiannon's shoulders lifted in a small laugh. She pulled the pack from her hip pocket and tossed it his way. "You know it." reply

Letting Go [15 Dec 2004|03:08pm] [ mood | sad ] ( Telling Her The Truth And Saying Goodbye ) I need to do what must be done, there's no way around it. I wish there was but there isn't. I've found what I need to do this. I can't count on everyone, this I know. There are some that will not let go of their own free will but I know others will help. And if they don't, I'll do this by myself. The spell will take a lot out of me. Playing with life and death is no easy task. ( Voicemail for William ) ( Voicemail for Rhiannon ) ( Voicemail for Dominick ) Now that's done, I need to prepare myself. This spell will not be easy. It's best I put protections in the way and I need to cleanse the space where I will be performing the spell. It's time to be strong....yet again. reply

Up In Smoke [15 Dec 2004|05:53pm] [ mood | bitchy ] Tristan put the empty gas can in the back of his truck and took one last long look at his home. He sneered at the note Jo had left, yet he wasn't stupid enough to not know when he was in trouble. It wasn't safe for him here. They knew where he lived. A change was in order. He pulled up his sleeves and then pushed the truck so that the tail gate was touching the old shed that had served as his lair for these past months. He was used to moving on. This time, he wasn't going far, but he had a need to lay his head down elsewhere. He sighed heavily and then took out the book of matches from his back pocket. He struck the match, and the flame flared up. He watched the match burn down until it was just about at his fingertips, and then he dropped it in the trail of gas he had made which led up to the shed, and then the truck. He stepped back to watch the display. The small explosion lit up the night. Perhaps they'd think he was dust, inside and caught unawares as some slayer exacted revenge for the death of Claire Rivers. Perhaps they'd believe him no longer a threat. If that was the conclusion, they'd be proven wrong in time. Tristan watched his lair burn for many moments. When the truck was also engulfed in flames, he reached down and picked up his bag and jacket. He was travelling light. A vampire didn't need much. With a final glance back over his shoulder, he turned and headed towards the mines. It was time to find a new place to lay his head. reply

Sins [15 Dec 2004|06:05pm] Matthew had cleared most of his living room for the right amount of space he would need to cast the spell. The couch was pushed up against one wall. The TV had been deposited in the kitchen. His books had been cleared to one side along with the bookcases. It didn't look much like a living room anymore. His bedroom door was shut and his mother was asleep so now was as good a time as any to prepare for what was to come. He exhaled a ragged breath as he looked at his door. Could he really do this? He already knew the answer to that question. He had to. That was the bottom line. Matthew dropped down to sit crosslegged on the wooden floor of the living room. He scooped up the nearby book and he scribbled notes into the small notebook he had. He had already put his protections up and it was all about cleansing the space now. The salt along with the other herbs would aid in that. He just had to find the right sort of spell. Magic had been one of his strongest subjects but he had never used it all that much unless he had to. Rhiannon stepped onto Matthew's front porch with her hands crammed in her back pockets. A dog barked in a nearby yard, but she glanced over her shoulder only sparingly before turning back to the door. Get it over with. All of it. What do you have to lose? Rhiannon pulled one hand free and rapped on the door. That hand immediately returned to her pocket, and she cast her eyes to her boots against the porch floor. Her lower lip was sore from a nervous biting habit. To cover the tired look in her eyes, she'd practically caked dark make-up around their edges. The funny thing about it was that she almost convinced herself that she was hiding something. Matthew turned his head to the knock. He got to his feet and looked back at his door to make sure his mother hadn't been woken. He moved to the front door and undid the lock along with the chain before he pulled open the door. As he opened it, he saw Rhiannon standing there. Her posture seemed different and her aura was darker. But it didn't take a look at her aura to tell him something was wrong. He noted the redness of her bottom lip and the way her eyes were cast down towards the ground. "Hey Rhiannon." Rhiannon looked up as Matthew opened the door. "Hey." Now that he was standing in front of her, the sheer amount of things she needed to say made beginning seem impossible. The nagging lump that had been in her throat since the day before reared its ugly head. She narrowed her eyes a bit. "Can I talk to you?" "Sure, come on in." Matthew commented before he stepped out of the way and gestured for her to come in. "It's a little messy but I promise it looks better on most any other day. Did you want a drink or anything?" He paused for a moment and turned around to face Rhiannon. Rhiannon stepped inside and looked around, adjusting to her new surroundings. Messy? There's barely anything in here. A large space had been cleared in the middle of the floor. Either Matthew was preparing for a workout or a spell. The book he'd left there lent credence to the latter possibility. She turned towards Matthew and shook her head. "No, I'm fine." Matthew nodded his head and he rubbed at his hair slowly. "You needed to talk to me about something?" He dropped his hands to rest in his back pockets of his very old and very faded pair of blue jeans. ( You Already Knew ) ( What I Know About Claire ) Rhiannon simply nodded to both his question and remarks. "It's fine, Matthew." A hand went to her stomach, and she felt the disturbing beginnings of a need to throw up. It was too much to take at once. This is how evil wears you down. Little punches. "I'm gonna go." She moved towards the door with no sense of where she'd go when she reached the other side. "Thanks." Matthew didn't want to let her go because he knew she wasn't herself but he could sense she needed to be alone. "You're welcome." He muttered simply before he took a seat on the floor again and scooped up the notebook and pen. reply

[15 Dec 2004|06:31pm] [ mood | alive ] ( Curious George ) Hmmm...this place is a treasure. The council must really be stretching things if they are sending in second or third stringers. I believe I have someone to meet. Mercy, what a beautiful name. I believe this is going to be one learning experience to savor. I'm going to go rest. Tomorrow night, I have service. reply

[15 Dec 2004|07:37pm] [ mood | giddy ] Wendy stepped out of the house, clutching the bag she had bought with Destiny. In it was a large cross. William had told her not to go out after dark, but she felt like she needed some air, and so she had brought protection with her. She looked down the street towards the center of town, and decided to go and get something to eat that she didn't need to cook. Dyan had been sitting in the diner since sundown, nursing a cup of the sludge they called coffee. Occasionally, she'd nibble one of the fries she'd ordered to go along with, but they held no real interest for her, she was waiting for something else. Someone worth her time. Might be that she'd end up out in Vegas, but for now, it was warm and human scented here which was fine with her. Wendy looked at the town. It was so different from England. No rolling hills, no lovely vistas. Just flat and brown. And she knew the food would be like nothing she had eaten before. But maybe that was a good thing. She saw the diner and walked in. She was directed to a small booth , where she sat. She straightened the long skirt she was wearing, and laid a napkin in her lap. Her hair was pulled back in a tight bun. She smiled at the waitress and ordered a grilled chicken sandwich, as it seemed the closest to real food she saw on the menu. ( First Contact ) ( Slightly Dangerous? ) ( A Walk And A Change ) Wendy rested. She knew soon she would wake, and soon she would be hungry. It was strange, but now that she had turned, the memories of her brief life as a vampire were returning. This time she would not turn to dust so easily. Oh, no. Dyan watched quietly for a moment and then smiled, depositing a kiss with cool lips to the very corner of Wendy's mouth. A slow brush of fingertips smoothed the mussed hair away from the fledge's face and then Dyan was gone into the night without a sound. reply

Whatever [15 Dec 2004|07:46pm] [ mood | rejected ] Ever wondered if you're too paranoid for your own good? I've been wondering that all day. I got to work and it was almost like everyone was watching me. Every time I turned around, someone was watching me. It wasn't just my work colleagues either. It was some of our regulars. Maybe I'm going insane? Maybe I'm overthinking everything but I can't help but feel something's going on. Something I don't know about. Theo and Ben kept disappearing during the day and reappearing a few hours later which left me to take care of a whole entire shift by myself. They wouldn't even tell me where they had gone. Theo just smirked and tapped the side of his nose, Ben at least had the decency to give me a sympathetic look. God, Theo is getting worse. He keeps moving in really close and he keeps whispering things in my ear. Things about the car and about not knowing things. I don't get what his problem is. He used to be a really nice guy, I don't know what changed. But if he keeps it up, I will slug him and put him on his back. I can only be pushed so far before I snap. I just wish I knew what was going on and why everyone took to watching me all day. That night in the alley keeps going through my mind but I cannot remember anything and my head starts to ache when I think about it. Was I dreaming? Was I sleepwalking? I had to be, right? I can't explain it in any other way but that day at work makes me really reluctant to go into work. Why should I go to a place that makes me feel so uncomfortable? Something is wrong, I can feel it in my gut. I just don't know what that something is. reply

Catharsis [15 Dec 2004|09:54pm] William stepped out into the night. Des was out, and so he decided that he wanted to go out on patrol again. And look for Wendy. She hadn’t been home when he returned from his errands, and he wanted to talk to her. He had received a voicemail from Matthew, and he knew that they were going to reverse the spell. It was the natural order of things, but he would have liked to see her one more time before… Wendy heard the door open, and her eyes opened. She felt the hunger, the lust for contact, but she wanted to savor her first kill. She had been robbed of it the last time, and it would not happen again. And, as fate would have it, it would be the same person all over again. “Hello, William.” ( Seduction ) ( Battle ) ( Dust to Dust ) Where Wendy had stood a moment ago, there was now just dust, and the desert wind picked it up and blew it into William. His heart was heavier for a moment, and then it was gone. He had done it. After all the years of doubt and reproach, he had done what he could not. The weight of doubt had gone from him. He was not happy that Wendy was gone, and he would mourn her passing as he had the last time. But for one shining moment, William Carruthers was filled with a sense of confidence and purpose that had been missing and that he had never realized was gone. reply

Remembrance [15 Dec 2004|11:12pm] [ mood | crushed ] Dominick flipped the page of his book in frustration. He had been focusing on sleep walking for Kris, but all he could really find was the same old thing...that it was hereditary. That it mostly occured in children. That it was important to not awaken the sleep walker for fear of injury. This book was getting him nowhere. "DOMI!" Emily's voice screamed from the other room. It all came back to Dominick in a rush. He was ten again, and his sister was screaming for help. He leapt up from his chair, tripping over the leg and sprawling onto the floor, just like that night so long ago. I must not fail! Not this time! Dominick came rushing out of his bedroom to see Emily standing in the middle of the living room. Her arms were up at her sides, and she wore a look of horror on her face. "Domi..." her voice a whisper, "I remember. I remember. I remember." She grabbed her head in her hands, shaking and nodding back and forth. "I don't want to remember, Domi. Please, make it go away. MAKE IT GO AWAY!" Dominick tried to pull her into a hug but she shoved him away. "I died. But I didn't...I was one of them." Her hair was almost standing on end in her memory. "And then, you killed me again." Again? Dominick felt the wind rush out of his lungs. He fell to his knees in front of her, tears streaking his face. "Emily, I didn't want to. God, you don't understand." Emily reached back and slapped him across the face. His head richocheted back before his eyes locked onto hers. "How could you?" Her eyes were hurt, and then angry. "You are not my brother." She stiffened and turned her back on him. She could feel his eyes burning into her back. Pain and grief was coming off of him in waves. She hesitated. She had no where else to go. He was her brother...he was. Slowly Emily turned back around. Dominick's head was in his hands as he knelt in the center of the floor lost in his grief. At that moment, Emily understood. He did what he had to do. It hadn't really been her. She didn't remember a lot. Darkness. A void. She had been lost. Then...she was in the mall in Vegas, alone and frightened. And he had come. He had come and rescued her. She remembered their bike rides. She remembered when he'd read to her when she couldn't sleep. He was always there for her, always. Tentatively she reached out with her hand and ran her small fingers over his cheek. "It's okay. I understand. I love you, Domi." Dominick looked up at her touch and saw her love for him there in her eyes. He opened his arms and she fell into them. "I remember," she said, crying against his chest. reply

Face To Face [15 Dec 2004|11:34pm] [ mood | pensive ] ------ Non Journal Entry ------- Devon paused in front of a small house. His eyes were a bright shade of yellow as they ran over the wooden building in front of him. The lights flickered in the windows and danced across the lace curtains that shrouded the inside of the house from view. Devon's nose twitched and a deep growl emanated from his chest as the door opened and a very familiar face met his gaze. The man was older, mid forties and he appeared to be scarred quite badly. One eye was missing, the other was barely able to open and in his hand he held the very same gun that had shot Devon all that time ago. " Found you." He muttered. A smirk quirked the corners of his lips upwards before the tip of his tongue ran over the sharpened teeth as they continued to push and grow. The sudden urge to rip the man from limb to limb was overpowering but Devon did all that he could to control himself. He flexed his hand and the bone across his knuckles cracked and popped as he did. He curled his fingers inwards towards his palm and the bone appeared to be strengthening in that one hand. A vein rose to stand out against his skin, it danced a trail from Devon's hand all the way to his neck. Devon's head rolled in the opposite direction but as it did, the vein ran up the side of Devon's face and finally settled against his temple. The man attempted to load a pure silver shotgun shell into the chamber. His hands were shaking and his remaining eye appeared to be filled with fear. Obviously he didn't think that one of the werewolves he had shot that night would ever live to find him." Stay back." He tried to speak with authority but his hunched posture and inability to load the gun destroyed any authority he had managed to muster. Devon lifted one eyebrow slowly before he advanced on the man by one step." You killed one of my kind." He snarled. His face distorting into the horrible visage of the wolf inside. Anger was a powerful emotion and it would seem, anger was more than enough to rip through Devon's tight self control. Deep down inside, Devon knew that the other wolf had been out to get him but still, a wolf was a wolf. " And I would do it again in a heartbeat." The man shouted defiantly. He then began to laugh." Who do you think fed you those dreams?" The gun raised and that one shot was fired off. The silver flashed as it raced through the air towards Devon. But this time, Devon was ready for it. His body sprung to the side and twisted through the air to land firmly on both feet." Why do you hate our kind so much?" He demanded as calmly as he could but the volume of his voice had risen to a startling level. Anyone who knew Devon knew that he didn't shout, he rarely even talked so the likelihood of him shouting was very slim. The man jumped and quickly fumbled with the gun again." Your kind took away the only things I ever cared about!" Another shot was fired. Another shot dodged and another step was taken towards the other man." And this is my problem how exactly?" He quickly covered the distance that seperated him from the other man. His hand wrapped around the gun and he snatched it away. As he did, the gun was snapped in half and its pieces were discarded to the side." Your ignorance sickens me. You know nothing of me and yet you judge me. What gives you that right?" His hand wrapped around the man's collar and the other rather large man was lifted off the ground effortlessly. Devon forced the man back against the wall. " I did what I had to. You killed those people. I saw the pendants, I knew you were together." The man argued as he desperately tried to free himself from Devon's grip. Devon's eyes dimmed as the memory of that night came back to him." You fool.." He murmured with a sad lilt to his voice." I never killed anyone." He released his tight grip on the other man and dropped him to the ground." But I guess one werewolf's word is no good to a man like you. A man so blinded by his need for vengeance. To think, I could have become like you." He never thought finding the one who had shot him and had killed Joel would give him a new outlook on his reason for being in Searchlight. The man glared up at Devon." If you leave me alive. You know I'll never stop." To that, Devon nodded his head." That's something I'm going to have to live with. This town isn't that big and sooner or later, our paths will cross again and I only hope that by then. You will have learnt something." Devon simply turned on his heel and walked away from the other. He never looked back not once, even as the other shouted words after him. He had someone he needed to see. reply

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