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The Mother From Hell...Literally [24 Oct 2005|06:25pm] [ mood | annoyed ] [ music | Crosstown Traffic - Jimi Hendrix ] Quinn didn't stay at Heaven's Peak long after picking up her shotgun and watching the surveillance tape. Jill had been right, those demons were the ugliest things she'd ever seen, and she cringed to think of what her friends were going through. Wherever they were. She concealed the gun as best she could, wrapping it in an old coat, then left the club to tuck it into the back of her truck. It occurred to her vaguely that she could be arrested for carrying an illegal weapon; then it occurred to her that she didn't give a shit. She was on the right side of this, doing what needed to be done. "For Victoria, because hardly anyone else is gonna care," she muttered, unlocking the vehicle to stash the weapon out of sight. The more Deanna thought about it, the more she was convinced the fight at Heaven's Peak wasn't just a run-of-the-mill hey, you knocked over my bloody mai-tai, bitch fight. The uglies were coordinated in dress and attention. And they had focus -- dark-haired, female vampires. Coincidence? Yeah, probably. But Deanna wasn't about to discount anything. And given that she saw Bethany make the leap from the top floor suggested she either had serious connections to the bar or held some clout. Which meant she could at least leave word for the slayer to contact her there. A few shards of glass from the newly replaced front window hinted at the earlier tussle and how bad it had been. Most foot traffic made a wide swath around the entrance as well. People were skittish. And Deanna knew they had reason to be. The redhead took a minute to brush the last of the glass out of the truck, making a note to get with her insurance company about paying for a new back windshield. She sure as hell paid them enough money, they could afford to cough up a few bucks to fix the thing. She knew she should probably go straight home and catch some sleep, but she also wondered if she shouldn't check in on Purity. She regretted leaving things the way she had, and if she could fix it then maybe she should try. But she'd just be lousy company for her and not much comfort, so skipping it sounded better. So she started the engine and pointed the vehicle towards the highway exit. Home, then sleep. ( Roadblock ) Quinn drew back a pace, unwilling to let the unpredictable vampire get too close to her. The feeling of cool fingers on her arm made her jump a little, but she didn't allow herself to react too much. "Hell with you, lady," she muttered, climbing back into the truck. She wasn't going anywhere, no matter how many times they tried to shoo her away. Sidekick or not, superpowers be damned, if Victoria needed her, she was going to be there. She was going to need some more boxes of shells, that and a secluded area to practice with that shotgun. Maybe the pistol too, since she hadn't even used it for target practice in months. But she'd been a decent shot before, which meant picking it up again should be easy. "Hell with you," she repeated, casting a baleful gaze at the facade of Heaven's Peak. "I'm not goin' anywhere. At all. So screw you." She started the engine again, pointed the vehicle in the direction of home. She had work to do. reply

Picking Up Clues [24 Oct 2005|09:15pm] [ mood | predatory ] ------ Non Journal Entry ------- If you take the right back road in Vegas, you’ll liable to find every answer to every question you’ve ever asked or you’ll run right into a world of trouble that nothing in this world could ever prepare you for. A sharp blow given to Devon’s jaw definitely leaned towards the latter rather than the former. The werewolf’s back met with brick and mortar and a snarl was pulled from the depths of his chest. A lunge was given and a grapple began as demon fought with werewolf until it was the demon laid flat out on his back with a well formed fist knocking the teeth from its jaw. However the demon had friends and two of these friends grabbed Devon’s arms and yanked him off the now very dazed demon. By now, Devon’s blood was pumping and he could barely see anything beyond the red that was rapidly blurring his vision. It had been the uniforms that had set Devon off and then it had been the sneers thrown his way by the six disfigured demons that had pushed the final button. He knew that the demons knew where Hannah was and he knew that fighting them wasn’t the way to get an answer but rational logic and thought had been thrown out of the window when the demon’s had spat at him. Green eyes shifted to gold and his mouth parted to release a hot rather heavy breath just before he was slugged and his entire frame seemed to cripple over on itself. However a flash of anger coupled with pain gave Devon the strength he needed to thrust his elbow straight into the demon’s stomach. That action winded the demon long enough so Devon was able to get in another punch which clipped the demon across its jaw and a snap was heard as the punch broke the jaw of that particular demon. Muscles rippled across back and both arms as Devon was set upon by another two demons and he grappled with them for dominance. Cuts, bruises and scratches littered both his skin and theirs but eventually both demon and werewolf met the hard tarmac ground. By now, four demons were down and Devon was struggling to gather air into his lungs. He was doing his best to think, trying not to let blind instinct lead him as that had always worked out so well in the past. He knew that he had two aggressors left and if he could, he needed to take something back with him to Searchlight so just maybe he would have a chance at finding Hannah. Devon felt hands grabbing his shirt so he reacted quickly and thrust his forehead into that of the demon’s, the blow stunned the demon and gave Devon the upper hand. He curled his leg back and then thrust his boot into the stomach of the demon and as it staggered back, Devon rolled over into his front to swipe one leg out in a wide arc. The demon hit the ground on its back and Devon set upon it. His right hand curled around the symbol attached to the arm of its uniform. With a sharp yank, he ripped the patch from its arm and then rolled off the demon to rise to his feet. Once up, he ducked beneath another swing and wrapped the demon’s neck with his arm to lift it up off the ground and to force it back down to the ground. He didn’t even bother with looking to make sure the demons were still down as he set off into the shadows. The patch was clasped tightly in one bloodied hand and Devon’s gold eyes stood out against the pitch black of the Las Vegas night. reply

Succubae...Among Other Things [24 Oct 2005|10:04pm] Bookstores. A Watcher's best friend. Unseen Insight was just such a friend on this night, which found Corbett camped out at one of the tables near the back of the store, a stack of books probably about two feet high in front of him as he thumbed through and old, decidedly dusty volume. In front of him was his little notepad, open to the page that housed the phrase Lorne had left him: Memento Mori. He wasn't necessarily interested in how the demon had come about the phrase -- and certainly not keen on reliving how he sang for the green-skinned man to get the info -- but Corbett wanted to know what the phrase meant. Aside from the literal translation, "Remember that you are mortal." That one seemed pretty obvious. But what was so important about the phrase -- or maybe its placement -- that it appeared in the dreams of a Potential Slayer? And was the phrase key in finding out why Searchlight -- and indeed, all of Clark County, was such a hotbed for all things supernatural? All questions in need of answers, answers a Watcher -- with the help of his books -- could find. But so far, the books, as usual, were of no help. ( Questionable reading material ) ( Vengeance, and other fun-filled activites ) ( Pointing out a Watcher's mistake ) ( Ties that bind ) ( Badmouthing, but in a condescending way ) ( Loving the dead ) ( Loaded question ) ( All in the Family ) ( Finally, an introduction ) The redhead left the shop with the book tucked under her arm, leaving the Watcher to his phone call. Lots of stuff to think about now, even if she couldn't do anything about one of the things she'd asked him about. She refused to stake Victoria. Refused. Wasn't even going to consider it. Vicky wasn't the problem. "Evil," she muttered, heading in the direction of the shop. "Just plain evil..." 1 comment | reply

Day In, Day Out [24 Oct 2005|11:11pm] [ mood | apathetic ] ------ Non Journal Entry ------ The lines had blurred, Kael could no longer tell day from night and he was moving from one action to the next, no conscious thought given to anything. His mind was swirling, his body was aching and he only stayed on his feet through sheer stubbornness and determination. Life had become routine, wake up, work, go to sleep, and wake up again. He sometimes wondered if there was a way out, he’d sometimes dream of breaching the fence, removing the shackle and being free to be but then he’d be hit in the face with a fresh dose of reality. Joseph had continued to watch out for him and he had done the same or as much of it as he could do. They had worked out a system to warn one another of an approaching demon. It consisted of whistles and coughs and none of the demons were any the wiser. Sometimes simplicity was really the answer to everything. Kael barely slept; he’d spend all his time staring into the darkness and trying to shut out the memories of what being stuck in that box had been like. He’d try to ignore the pain that racked his body and he’d try to think of better times to give him the strength to keep going from day to day. He had seen what was done to the weak - he didn’t want to be one of those people. The only thing he could do was get on with what needed to be done and hope that one of these days there was an opportunity that he and the others could monopolise on. At this rate, he’d be happy to play interference to ensue people or even one person got out of the camp and got word out on their location. Just anything to get word out there, he didn’t like the thought of vanishing without a trace. Didn’t like it at all. reply

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