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A Little Persuasion... [06 Oct 2005|12:33am] There was a funny thing about Rhiannon Lee. Slayer though she was -- and most often on the right side of things -- if she wanted something bad enough, she’d do anything to get it. Her feet would tread all over the line between right and wrong, acceptable use of force and abuse of power. It was all one and the same to her. Especially when it came to Joseph Tropiano. She’d turned the city upside down searching for word of him. Bars, casinos, hotels, restaurants, clubs, human haunts, demon haunts, both the ritzy establishments and the bottom of a very deep Las Vegas barrel. No one knew where he’d gone, and she’d shot past desperate to end up outraged. It was the terrorist attack mucking things up. No way to tell if something happened in the riots, if things had gone sour on a business deal of his, or if the supernatural had stolen him from her. The only reason it mattered was because it was so goddamn hard to find him without knowing. Rhiannon didn’t care whether his disappearance was the work of a human or demon. Both could bleed in ways that had never before been seen, and she was starting to get some very creative ideas. If Soran were smart, he wouldn’t give her reason to use them. The demon was a long shot. The chances that he’d heard specifics about Joseph were slim to none. Yet if there were a bigger picture – a situation she hadn’t known existed – he would know about it. The Cruor demons spent too much time in the underbelly of the city to miss out on action, even a minor blip on the radar. There was a time when the Slayer could waltz through the front door of their headquarters. But everyone inside understood that Rhiannon and Soran were on the outs. If she wanted to get to him, she’d have to proceed a little differently. Rhiannon was glad she knew a Watcher who happened to attack things a little differently. She was crouched on a fire escape a block away, in a fully black ensemble that included a ski mask. Her clothes and body were wet from head to toe. Her right eye narrowed on the sight of a tranquilizer gun, loaded with of enough ammo to take out a few circus elephants. A gloved finger eased over the trigger, its leather creaking under the barest strain over knuckles. She waited until both guarding demons had rotated in her direction and lined up the crosshair with the nearest neck. ’X marks the spot.’ Rhiannon squeezed the trigger twice in rapid succession, downing both in a handful of seconds. The Slayer leaned back from the gun and set it beside her bag of tricks. Her eyes searched the roof of the building for the demon she’d paid off to help. Deya was a member of a rival clan of demons; one that had lost more members to Soran than memory could recall. For the right price, she’d been more than willing to help Rhiannon hit her mark. In this case, the price had been a location on the Cruor, so it was an easy deal to strike. ( ...Goes a Long Way (Mild Violence) ) reply

Delivering News [06 Oct 2005|02:36am] [ mood | predatory ] This day was definitely turning into the longest ever, and it was probably about to get a lot longer. Quinn parked her truck in the lot of Heaven's Peak, then just sat behind the wheel and stared at the club's facade. I hope I got here first, she thought. Jill would just botch it. She climbed out of the truck, looked down at her clothes. She'd thought about changing shirts at Purity's, the Fuck Me, I'm Irish slogan probably not exactly what the clientele inside would be used to seeing. But it was still kind of early, so maybe there wouldn't be a huge crowd yet. Besides, she didn't really care. All she wanted to do was have a brief conversation with the Slayer and then be on her way. Inside, she took a seat at the bar, considered ordering a beer, and then asked for water instead. If she didn't see Bethany in the first fifteen minutes or so, she could always ask one of the bartenders. "Here's to hoping she's around," she muttered, raising the cup of water in a weary toast. Bethany had spoken briefly with Ralphael who was still on Victoria's trail and she had now turned her attention back to making sure her club ran smoothly. Business always came first as it always had done. She had spent the better part of evening in her office as she had paperwork to go through. The Slayer was looking casual for her. That's if a pair of dark silk slacks and a dark polo neck with a silk jacket over the top could constitute as casual. One stiletto heel moved back and forth as Bethany wiggled one foot as she worked at filling out her paperwork. However a yawn escaped her as she finally finished with the folder for the night. Her eyes chanced a glance at the clock and she lifted her eyebrows. She had been working at paperwork for the better part of four hours. "I think it's time for a break." Bethany murmured to herself as she rose to her feet and tidied her desk. She really could do with a Martini. ( Twenty Minutes ) Two slender fingers reached out to catch the receipt between the slight gap from one finger to the next before the slip of paper was lifted to her line of sight. She noted the numbers and gave a nod of her head before slipping the receipt away into a pocket. "The same applies to you. You hear anything, you call me." "I can't guarantee I will hear anything, but I'll give you a heads-up if I do," Quinn said with a nod. It was the least she could do, after all, especially if Bethany was going to let her ride shotgun...so to speak. "And yeah, you'll be getting a visit from Jill, I'm sure. She's been doing a pit-bull act at me ever since we met. I can't decide if it's the blood or if she's just a rude bitch. It might be both. I'd like to knock her teeth out but I've got more important things to do right now." The admission gave her pause, and she looked down at the floor for a minute. More important things. Victoria. Wake up and smell the irony... "I'll be in touch. Thanks for your time." She turned towards the door, ready to push onto the next thing she needed to take care of. reply

Still Looking [06 Oct 2005|02:52am] [ mood | worried ] ------ Non Journal Entry ------ Devon was not a happy man. He was in fact a very unhappy man. Apparently on the night that Vegas had one of the worst blackouts in a while, Hannah had visited the club looking for him. If she had managed to get out safely then surely she'd be at home but she wasn't. She still hadn't shown up for work and Devon's stomach was doing the worst possible dance it had ever done. It felt as if his guts were twisting in on themselves and sometimes he couldn't breathe. Devon hunched over himself and forced himself to breathe. Something had to have happened to Hannah and his imagination was having a grand old time of telling him what. He had seen the news reports and he had seen the horror that had claimed the city that night. He pushed his hands through his dark hair and forced himself to calm down. Green eyes kept flickering to gold and back again, panic and fear always had a way of stirring the beast within Devon. "Where are you, Hannah?" He whispered to the air around himself before he rose to his feet. She had to be somewhere, a person could not just disappear, he didn't care how big Las Vegas was. But the part of Devon that had seen over a decade of life told him that a person could just disappear but he shook his head. There was no way he was just accepting that this was the way it was, he was going to find Hannah and he was going to bring her home. Devon set off from the sidewalk and began back into the depths of Las Vegas' shadows because if you wanted answers, those were some of the best places to look. reply

See You Later [06 Oct 2005|04:10am] [ mood | shocked ] ------ Non Journal Entry ------ Kael was locking up his shop for the night. He needed to go home and he needed to rest because he hadn’t done enough in the last couple of days. His father used to say that his obsession would eat him alive and he wasn’t that far off from the truth. The thought of his father brought a familiar pang to Kael’s chest, one he fought past to set off at a slow walk through Searchlight. However as he crossed a road, a bright light seemed to light up his figure and Kael turned to lift a hand to shade his eyes. His hazel eyes squinted into the sudden glare of headlights and he now realised how close the vehicle happened to be given that he nearly walked right into it. “What the hell?” He muttered to himself before he said something under his breath about bad drivers and he began walking away from the vehicle itself. He barely spared a thought for the fact that the doors were opening. Kael continued walking through Searchlight but paused as the heavy sound of wheels turning and rolling across sand pulled his attention over his shoulder. It was the exact same car and its lights once again threatened to blind him. A sudden influx of worry overcame him and he pushed on in the hopes of escaping the disturbing feeling in the pit of his stomach. Surely he had to be overreacting, surely nothing would be happening but then as he rounded a corner and he came face to face with a dark figure that grabbed him by his collar and seemed to thrust him headfirst into a wall. He knew that he wasn’t overreacting at all. If anything, he wasn’t reacting enough but he vowed to change that the moment his head stopped spinning. Kael gave his head a vigorous shake and launched himself at the figure that had attacked him. Given his height, build, and weight – Kael managed to knock the figure to the ground. He didn’t bother looking at who or what he happened to be attacking as he thrust a fist across the hard jaw beneath him before he reached down and yanked the figure to his feet. Once they were both on their feet, Kael literally swung the person around and forced him into the wall which seemed to shake under the impact. Kael was not a man to be taken lightly, he may not have had superhuman strength but he made weapons from scratch which took a strength that was all his own. He didn’t bother to watch if his would-be attacker went down or not, he was already moving. Though that car …wait no, that truck was still there and Kael’s eyes were not betraying him in showing quite a few more bodies. “Ah fuck.” He muttered with a roll of his eyes before he literally set off at a sprint. What else could he do? He knew this town like the back of his hand; he at least stood a chance of losing them as he stood no chance at fighting them. However these things or these people whatever the fuck they were happened to be everywhere and it was almost as if the shadows reached out and grabbed him. Kael made a choked sound in the back of his throat as strong hands clamped down around his neck and a pained gasp escaped him as fists met with already tender skin. It wasn’t long until they had beaten him to a near unconscious state. Hands wrapped his arms and literally dragged him across the sand to where the truck was waiting. As they dragged him, the keys to his shop slipped out of his pocket and went unnoticed in the sand. Kael’s body was now loaded up into the truck and the doors slammed shut. One more body for the meat grinder. reply

Locked Away [06 Oct 2005|04:38am] [ mood | tired ] ------ Non Journal Entry ------ Joseph had almost lost track of all time since he had been thrown into this box. The box was small, too small for him to stretch out his limbs, and he had long forgotten about moving. He had managed to make himself as comfortable as he could in one corner. His body still ached and his sunburnt skin made sleeping difficult. Of course it didn’t help that whenever he closed his eyes, he would hear a sharp almost agonising scream which he knew belonged to Victoria. Sweat streamed over his skin during the day due to the sun and the box acting as a natural conduit for heat. The salt in his sweat didn’t help to soothe the pain of his skin and seemed to aggravate it more than anything else. Joseph hadn’t tasted water in days so he was dehydrating rapidly and his mouth was drying out which made swallowing difficult. The night was probably one of hardest times to get through because it felt as if he had been plunged into the artic and all he had to keep him warm was his torn and almost completely ruined shirt. It was also when Victoria made the most noise and his eyes were always drawn through the narrow slit to where the screams were coming from. It didn’t help that he could barely see anything and his eyes were beginning to ache with the strain of squinting in the weak attempt to see beyond the confines of the box. Joseph leaned his head against the side of the box and shivered faintly before he simply curled his legs up towards his chest and tried to conserve his body heat that way. Joseph marvelled at the fact that even as the days stretched into night and back into day, he still managed to open his eyes and still managed to think about escape. The box was suffocating and disgusting in the sense that he was forced to live in his own filth. Joseph was being treated no better than dog but he knew he shouldn’t have expected anything else. He practically craved the ability to stretch out his legs and his entire body protested the cramped conditions. Joseph had to wonder how long he would be kept in the box. He supposed it would be until he had set a good enough example. This is what outspoken people got in this hellhole. This is what you got for trying to stand up for someone else. Just as he was slipping off into a light doze, Victoria’s scream woke him and brown eyes snapped wide open. His head rolled on its resting place and his eyes stared out from within the slit itself. There was nothing worse than being unable to do anything about the situation you found yourself in and Joseph hated being helpless but that’s exactly what he was. He was powerless and he was trapped. reply

Old Habits Die Hard [06 Oct 2005|01:15pm] [ mood | crappy ] ------ Non Journal Entry ------ Work had helped to keep her mind off Victoria and she knew she had people working but as soon as she could, she’d hit the streets herself. For now, she had returned home which she thought to be a mistake as she found herself staring at the ornamental dagger that Victoria had given her a while ago. She shrugged off her dark jacket and stepped forward to lift the dagger. She could remember the exact day that Victoria had given it to her and she could remember the almost playful glint she had had in her eyes that day. The dagger wasn’t meant to be used for anything but opening papers but it still meant a lot to Bethany. Her eyes slid shut and a deep breath was taken as she felt emotions stirring within her and voices seemed to sound in her head. Victoria was one of her oldest friends, she had given Bethany a place to go when she had nothing and no-one, and now she was missing. It was frightening in a way to have something like that happen. Victoria may have had her fair share of admirers but none of them had been through the things that she and Bethany had been through. Her distaste, fear and apparent disgust ran much deeper and she had meant what she had said, there would be payment in blood. The Slayer surmised that there was only one other person in the world that could possibly know of the depths of her feelings and that was Deanna, Victoria’s sire. Her grip tightened around the hilt of the dagger until every knuckle turned white. She forced herself to let it go and forced herself to breathe. She hadn’t felt so disconnected in a very long time. Her emotions hadn’t gotten the better of her in many months, something she had been proud of. She hadn’t needed a release that differed from all the others in a while now but Victoria’s disappearance stirred a lot of old demons up and brought them right back into the present. Bethany remembered the discovery that she was not as alone as her parents liked her to believe and she remembered the freedom it had given to her. It had made her feel alive, like something more than a disappointment. She had friends, friends who understood her and the darkness within her. Her family had no longer mattered because they became secondary, family had been easier to deal with since meeting Victoria and the others like her because Bethany began switching herself off. Her father’s insulting words, her mother’s bitchy comments – none of that mattered because she had found her place in the world. With Victoria’s disappearance, it felt as if that place had been pulled out from under her and Bethany was having a hard time with keeping up with the rate of her fall. Her eyes glanced in the direction of her bathroom and with little to no thought she pulled her polo neck from her head and set off towards it. A flash of metal caught the light briefly as Bethany opened the bathroom door before closing it behind her. Two hours passed before the door opened and Bethany emerged. Her skin was notably pale and her hand was trembling faintly. There was no sign of anything in her hand or in the bathroom behind her but Bethany had always been very good at cleaning up after herself. The Slayer rested in the doorway for a few moments before she moved through her home and slipped into a change of clothes. Her body protested the movement especially the area of skin near her stomach and on her inner thighs so Bethany stopped for a few moments to gather her breath. She was now dressed in all black and in place of a Sai, she had Darian’s present to her. The knives shone in the darkness of her room and a thumb traced a blade before Bethany retrieved a Sai and attached this to her other thigh. Nimble fingers worked on tying her hair back before she headed out of her house. She had someone to meet and something to collect. reply

Back To Work [06 Oct 2005|01:49pm] [ mood | awake ] ------ Non Journal Entry ------ Jordan was woken by the sharp shrill sound of her phone ringing. She groaned faintly and rolled over to pick it up. A hand pulled it apart and it was then placed to her ear. “Jordan Briggs here.” “Hello Agent. Briggs.” A familiar voice spoke down the line. Jordan sat upright in her bed and cleared her throat. “Hello Assistant Director.” She knew that whatever this call was about, it had to be something important. There was a pause on the other end of the line before he spoke again. “We’ve received some worrying news from the Las Vegas PD. It would seem that there’s been a record high amount of disappearances within the city itself, were you aware of this?” Jordan got to her feet and shook her head. “No sir, I was not.” Another pause, “I see.” She practically winced as she heard the pause and then the clear message in the two words he said afterwards. He was basically saying she wasn’t doing her job properly. She really hated when she got a call like this because it made her feel about two inches tall. “I’ve mostly been focusing my attention on helping the Las Vegas PD to the best of my ability especially during the black out and the rioting, sir.” Jordan commented as she paced her bedroom. She could hear him breathing on the other end until he remarked. “I’ve no doubts you’ve been doing the best job that you can but right now, your top priority are the disappearances. All other cases are to be ignored, is that understood?” Jordan thought to the dead cop whose file still sat on top of her big pile of paperwork. Her father would be very disappointed in her if she didn’t try to work out what had happened to the cop but she knew that there was something bigger at work and she was being given a direct order. “Understood, sir.” “Good, Agent. Briggs.” He responded, “I’ll leave you be, make sure you report any and all findings back to us at the bureau. Take care.” With that said, he hung up the phone and left Jordan listening to nothing but static. Jordan grimaced as she pulled her phone away from her ear and she started to dress. Black slacks were pulled on over her legs before her white shirt was tugged into place and fastened. The holster for her guns was pulled on over her shoulders and now socks along with boots were tugged on. She didn’t bother with tying her hair back as she snatched up her case and made for her car. However on the way there, she paused at Nyx’s bedroom and slipped her share of the rent under his door with a note that read : ‘You and me, beers one night - Jordan’ before she hurried out of the building and slipped into her car. reply

Conversation and Evasion [06 Oct 2005|06:16pm] Jo paced her office at the bar, daylight hours were very slow just at the moment and she had someone in covering both the bar and the kitchen so really, she was just there in a managerial capacity. Which was pointless. All the orders had been made and filled, the deposits made at the bank, everything stocked and in their proper places. She shook her head and packed up what little she took with when she left work and headed upstairs. ( Phone Calls and Plans Made ) reply

Serendipity? [06 Oct 2005|06:35pm] ( Meant To Be (A Meeting) ) reply

The Calm Ends [06 Oct 2005|09:14pm] [ mood | pissed off ] Connor walked home. It would be light in less than an hour. He had spent the night patrolling, but things were quiet. Oddly quiet. The demons and vamps in the area were acting weird...skittish. That was never good. He had the feeling that this was the calm before the storm. Connor stopped walking as he heard footsteps behind him. He turned swiftly, but saw nothing behind him. But he knew what he heard. *I'm not in the mood to play,* he thought to himself. Keeping his ears open, he started walking again. He knew he was being followed, he just wanted to trip up whoever was doing this. He got about ten feet further and then heard the footsteps again. Connor spun around and grabbed at whoever was following him, slamming the person against the wall. Connor then saw who it was or rather what it was...demon. "You messed with the wrong person." The demon started throwing punches, some landing, some not so much. Connor did some hitting of his own, only his punches were a lot more accurate. He heard the squealing of wheels as a vehicle pulled up behind him. He glanced to the side, but stayed focused on the demon in front of him. That was, until he saw other demons of the same species start to pile out of the van that had pulled up. "Shit." Connor backed off of the demon against the wall and put distance between him and the demons, making sure none were behind him. They all attacked at once and he couldn't say he was surprised. He grabbed the first two and slammed their heads together. Two more came at him. He ran the wall of the building and landed behind them. He did a roundhouse, putting one more on the ground. Unfortunately, these guys didn't stay down long. They were strong and were back on their feet before he could set another few down. He fought for maybe ten minutes when he realized, he was getting nowhere. One of the demons landed a lucky punch from behind him, hitting him right in the back. He flew forward and fell on the ground. That's when they all gathered around him. Connor took punch after punch, kick after kick. He stayed conscious for as long as possible. But a sharp blow to his face slammed his head into the ground and he was out. Connor was loaded into the van with all the rest. He lay in his own blood, his head wound bleeding as hard as most head wounds did. reply

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