Birthright: A Fantasy RPG -- Day
Birthright: A Fantasy RPG -- Day [entries|friends|calendar]
Birthright

[ website | My Website ]
[ userinfo | greatestjournal userinfo ]
[ calendar | greatestjournal calendar ]

Bedside Chat [26 Nov 2005|12:43am]
"You two might want to take this little spat outside," she managed in a croak as it hurt to talk. Kris was pale, her eyes were a little dark and there was a persistent tremble in her body that she couldn't seem to be rid of. Kris eyed Corbett and then the nurse. "Recovering patient here.." She shifted beneath the sheets and scowled faintly as the more she moved, the tighter the sheets seemed to get. It was almost as if the nurse had known she was the type to bolt as soon as she could.

Corbett's head whipped around and his glasses found their way back on his wrinkled face the moment he heard his Slayer's voice. Ignoring the nurse now, the Watcher walked over to the bed, kneeling beside it, resting his hand lightly on Kris'. "You're awake," he said with a light grin before smirking, adding, "Then again, you probably know that already." Giving her hand a light squeeze, Corbett continued, "I called Hayden for you; he should be here soon."

Kris made a slight face and refrained from making a sarcastic comment though her voice seemed to drop as she murmured a sincere, "Thank you." She swallowed back a lump that had formed and lifted her other hand to touch the bandage that wrapped her neck. An eyebrow lifted very slowly. "Guess I dropped the ball, huh?" She tried to keep the comment light but doubt seemed to linger in her voice.

The Watcher's face turned grim as he squeezed Kris' hand again, in reassurance this time, as he shook his head in disagreement. "No," he said firmly, but calmly.

The only thing Corbett hated more than his own guilt and self-loathing at the moment was his Slayer's sudden self-doubt. The Watcher looked at his Slayer through tired, bloodshot eyes, having not slept since coming to the hospital. He hadn't eaten, either, unable to decide whether he was hungry or nauseous. But for now, Corbett was relieved. "This wasn't your fault," he whispered, completely unaware of the surroundings. "Ours is a dangerous work; sometimes things happen."

Kris merely nodded her head; she wasn't one for words, especially when she really had nothing to say. Her lips quirked into a slight smirk. "You look like you could do with some rest and you could definitely do with a shave." She was trying to interject some humor as everything felt far too serious. She didn't know how much more serious she could take before her head exploded. Her neck took that moment to twinge and she rolled her eyes. "Vampire bites, hurt like a bitch." Her brow furrowed briefly before she fixed Corbett with a dark gaze. "Thank you for dusting it before it... decided to make me a neat addition to the undead."

The sound of heavy boots and the friction of denim came closer to the door. From outside, Hayden's voice echoed off tiles and bare walls. "Nah, I found it, thanks." He lifted his knuckles to the partially open door and tapped lightly. "Hey... mind if I come in?" he asked, with eyes hurriedly finding Kris in the bed and staying locked there.

Brief Introductions )

The Low-Down on Demons )

Contacting Quinn and Matthew )
reply

Sunnydale Vampires [26 Nov 2005|03:37am]
Not A Journal Item )
reply

Watching the Defectives [26 Nov 2005|02:25pm]
Matthew's stomach seemed to grumble as his bike cut a path across the stretch of road that seperated Searchlight from Vegas. He had ignored his hunger for the most part but it had become impossible to ignore so Matthew had resigned himself to getting something to eat. His hands tightened around the handlebars and the needle on his speedometer jumped as the bike's speed seemed to increase and the bike covered the remaining distance relatively easily.

The Watcher's bike could be heard a few minutes before the bike rolled into sight and then the sound was abruptly cut off as his hands eased off the handlebars and the key was turned in the ignition. Booted feet rested against the ground and held the bike in place before Matthew stepped off and kicked the stand out so the bike could rest on its own weight.

He bowed his head briefly to light another cigarette before his fingers slid his lighter away into the pocket of his leather jacket. A long drag seemed to be taken from the cigarette before Matthew smoothed his hair back into place and then his head tilted so blue eyes could glance towards the diner. He seemed to watch the diner for the longest amount of time before he simply set off towards it.

The empty pizza box lay on the passenger seat of his stolen Ford Focus, contents long since devoured. Whistler wasn't surprised at his constant hunger; being denied the basics for weeks on end was bound to have a detrimental effect on anyone. He was silently glad Rhiannon had turned down the offer of a free slice, as it helped last him that much longer.

He'd also spent the last three hours at Unseen Insight, refreshing the basics in his brain. Their library was extensive and for such a tiny little town and he'd decided almost immediately that this was going to become his second home until the repository of knowledge stolen from the Powers That Be was refilled. Whistler even had a byzantine conversation with one of its employees, tall bookish guy with pointed ears. So the place wasn't just a great Occult store, but demon friendly also. Well, except for the damned yappy dog that wanted to pee on his leg.

When he'd realized that Hayden wasn't returning anytime soon, and the continual growling (from his stomach, not the dog), Whistler asked about places to eat and was directed to the diner in which he now found himself in front of.

Matthew passed a man as he pushed open the door to the diner but he couldn't help but turn his head as the man's aura caught his eye. More or less grey but with a white that seemed to be infused through the grey and almost seemed to surround it. The look that Matthew would have given the other man whilst doing this would have been difficult to miss, it was extremely intense.

However, Matthew soon pulled his eyes away and stepped into the diner. Locals turned their heads and looked at Matthew but it was something he had gotten used to so he simply smirked and made his way to the counter. Once there, he slid onto a stool and caught hold of an ashtray to pull it towards himself. Greying ash was flicked out into it and then cigarette was rested so Matthew could shrug out of his jacket.

Was I just 'checked out'? Whistler asked himself as he caught the gaze of the man who'd pulled up on the motorcycle and passed him as he went into the diner. Not that he wasn't flattered, but Whistler didn't exactly swing that way.

Still, given his current appearance, he should accept the compliment, right? But that's all it was. Yessirree. No interest there.

And his main interest, aside from finding a face that belonged to the names on his list, was a decent plate of liver and onions. And maybe a bowl of pasta. And french fries. Oh god, french fries. He'd never take the French for granted again...

He pushed through the outer door and looked around. Plenty of places to sit, but Whistler didn't feel like taking up space in a booth. Not that he thought they'd need the space; the diner didn't seem the sort to get high traffic at any time of day, but it was... more considerate. So he chose a stool three apart from the patron who preceded him.

He nodded to the waitress and ordered a black coffee, and salivated when she brought him the worn menu.

"Anything you recommend?" he asked out loud to any who would hear him.

With odds like these, we should be playing the craps table at the Bellagio )
reply

Changes [26 Nov 2005|02:59pm]
[ mood | indifferent ]

------ Non Journal Entry ------

Matthew paused as he heard his cell phone ringing but by the time he reached for it, whoever it was had hung up. He rested the cigarette between his lips and dialed his voicemail before listening. It was Corbett and from the sounds of things he was back in the proverbial loop.

He pulled his attention away from wrapping a door handle with the necklace he had gotten for Rhiannon and set about returning the voicemail. "Corbett, it's Matthew. I'll be heading back into Searchlight in an hour tops. I can come to you or you can come to me, either way works."

Matthew now hung up the phone and pulled the cigarette away from his lips to exhale a long stream of smoke. His head turned and his blue eyes lingered on the door handle and the necklace. A note was attached to the necklace, a note that read : 'From a friend who thought this could help.' Nothing more and nothing less, his handwriting was recognisable.

He pushed away from the banister and walked the length of the floor before finding his way down the flight of stairs. His fingers dropped his cigarette and the heel of his boot crushed the remaining life from the cigarette itself. Matthew wandered out onto the street and glanced around himself, tingles prickled his spine and his hand strayed to the stake sheathed at his waist before fingers wrapped the width of it and he pulled it free.

The Watcher strolled, didn't run, he strolled into a nearby dark alleyway and then watched as a vampire seemed to set upon a young woman. An eyebrow lifted and Matthew tucked the stake behind his back as he continued through the shadows. "Anyone ever tell you that attacking people is a really bad idea?"

The vampire's attention was pulled away from the girl and her legs seemed to crumple beneath her and she soon curled into a ball and seemed to sob. "What business is it of yours?" The vampire snarled, face distorting as he did.

Matthew smirked lightly, a strange light seemed to catch his eyes and his head seemed to tip ever so slowly to the right, "You could call me a concerned citizen."

The vampire turned to face Matthew and began advancing, "Don't need no fucking concern."

The Watcher didn't move, just watched as a bloodsucker advanced on him, the whole time his hand was turning the stake until it was ready to use. His back was the first thing to hit the concrete wall and the familiar sensation of dread began to overwhelm him as the vampire leaned closer but for some reason Matthew just didn't care. He simply waited for the first touch of fang to skin and then brought the stake around and drove it down into the vampire's chest. The vampire cried out in pain but Matthew didn't stop, he just kept pushing until finally, the tip found its target and the creature exploded into a flurry of dust.

Matthew returned the stake to its place on his belt and stepped away from the wall to start brushing the dust from him. He now wandered over towards the quivering mass of young woman and extended a hand to her, "You should think about getting home."

The girl took the hand and used the firm grip to pull herself to her feet, "Thank you," she managed to choke out before she took off for the light at the end of the alleyway.

"Don't mention it," Matthew drawled as he lit another cigarette and began out of the alleyway.

reply

Meeting new faces. [26 Nov 2005|04:27pm]
Despite the general hustle and bustle of Las Vegas, it was possible to find a quiet spot and be left alone in it. Oliver had found himself just such a spot, parking himself at a table near the back of a restaurant to make phone calls. He was feeling a little out of sorts because he hadn't had a drink all day, but he also hadn't wanted to lose the memory of Jill's wrist against his lips, her blood in his mouth. So it was a trade-off of sorts.

"No, I want you to sell the rest of the stock," he said, tucking the phone between his chin and shoulder in order to light a cigarette. "The market's going to hell in a handcart and I've lost too much money from bad investments this year. I'd be better off pissing it away at the craps table."

He scribbled some information into the notebook that was open on the table, then shook his head and said, "Martin, just listen to me, okay? Sell the stock. Sell it, put the money in real estate or something. Real estate, precious metals, I don't care. Do what I'm paying you to do, keep me from taking a financial bath. 'Kay?"

Meredith was bored.

How it was possible to be bored in a city such as this was unfathomable to most people who came here. But she was a different sort. Generally, she tired easily of amusements that would keep ordinary people entertained for long periods of time. It's just the way she was.

Hoping to find something new to occupy her time, she wandered in and out of various bars and restaurants for the duration of the day, deciding to stop at one in particular to grab something to drink. Upon entering the establishment, she was met with the quiet din of very few patrons. A small yawn escaped her lips as she sat herself down at a table.

She examined the people around her as she pulled a cigarette from the pack in her pocket and slid it between her lips. Patting herself in search of a lighter, she realized to her own disdain that she must have left it in the casino. "Damnit," she muttered, pulling it away from her mouth and standing. She swiftly and rather confidently approached a man sitting at the back of the restaurant. "You gotta light?" she asked him.

The phone still cradled in the crook of his shoulder, Oliver held up the index finger of his other hand in a 'wait a minute' gesture. "I'll be in touch in a couple of days. I gotta get off this phone and have some lunch, my stomach feels like my throat's been cut. Make sure that gets done, hmm?"

Shaking his head, he slipped the phone into his jacket pocket. "Moron." Then he eyed the sudden arrival, his expression slightly wary. Picking up his lighter, he passed it across the short distance between them.

"Help yourself. You can't imagine how grateful I was to find a place where I could smoke inside. What's this city coming to, anyway?"

Meredith took the lighter from the man and helped herself to the flame. Taking a long drag, she darted her eyes around the room. "A veritable shithole, that's what," came her deadpan reply. "I think my travel agent neglected to mention the charm and glamor of busted out windows and bulletholes."

She smirked slightly, and passed him back the ligher after flicking the top closed. "Oh well, makes me feel at home," she mused to herself.

"Riots will do that," Oliver responded blandly, accepting the lighter back. Puffing on his own cigarette, he asked, "Want to see a real shithole? Try Seattle sometime."

Maybe it was time for that drink after all. Yawning slightly, he raised his hand for the waiter. "Are you going to hover or are you going to sit down?" he asked the woman. "You're giving me a crick in my neck."

Talkin' to strangers. )
"Well I hate to love you and leave ya, Ollie," she said with a smile, "But I have to be on my way."

He blinked at her, both puzzled and amused. No one had ever called him 'Ollie' in his life. "Please, let me," he said, removing his wallet from his jacket pocket. "I've taken up enough of your time, I can at least cover your bill."

He wondered if he shouldn't call Jill later that evening. She was probably wondering why she hadn't heard from him about that spell yet. Opening his billfold, Oliver said, "I should probably be off anyway.Things to do, chaos to spread. You know how it is."

"I definately do," she responded, standing. She held out her hand for a shake. "It really was nice to meet you. Maybe I'll run into you again sometime soon."

Picking up her purse from the floor, she slung it over her shoulder and smiled. "Thanks again for lunch," she said with a smile. "Good luck with the chaos."

He shook her hand warmly, sat back against the cushion and lit a cigarette. "Believe me, I need all the luck I can get," he said. "And the city's not that big. I'm sure we'll see each other again. Have a nice afternoon."
reply

Call To Arms [26 Nov 2005|07:53pm]
[ mood | busy ]

Voicemail For Corbett )

Voicemail For Hayden )

Voicemail For Kris )

Voicemail For Devon )

reply

Zeroing In [26 Nov 2005|09:34pm]
Hospital coffee was really disgusting.

Quinn hadn't wanted to leave Kael alone, so she waited until he seemed to be asleep, then darted out of the room to fish a map out of her glove compartment. Unfolding it in the waiting room, she tried to pinpoint the location of Battle Mountain, simultaneously taking sips of the worst cup of coffee she'd ever drunk. But it was strong enough to keep her awake and alert, and that was what she needed.

She checked her voicemail from the payphone, noted the calls from Bethany and Hayden, decided to chance catching the Watcher in person before dialing the Vegas number. Punching in the number, she bounced nervously on the balls of her feet, waiting for him to pick up.

"Yeah," came a muffled answer, not out of rudeness, but because the greeting followed a near-loss of the cell phone precariously caught between his ear and shoulder. Hayden stopped to hoist Kris' bag higher on his shoulder, and clasped two Styrofoam cups and a paper bag under his arm. "Quinn?"

“Yeah, it's me," the redhead affirmed, past the point of looking for conversational niceties. "I got your message, figured I'd give you the news first. I'm at the hospital with Kael Saunders, who hauled himself back to Searchlight last night looking considerably worse for wear. How much do you know about how to get to Battle Mountain?"

The name Kael didn't ring any bells, but with Quinn mentioning it, he put two and two together and came up with 'Scourge-related'. "That's up north, right?" Hayden took quick stock of where he stood in the hospital, at the juncture of two corridors. "Hold on, I'm at the hospital, too. Where are you?" Better to do this face to face.

"I'm at the pay phone near the vending machines. I got a map out of the truck trying to find a location, but I'm bad with maps." Quinn grimaced around another mouthful of coffee, drummed her fingers on top of the phone. "If I had known you were actually here, I'd have saved my change," she said with a rueful chuckle.

Hayden couldn't resist a chuckle of his own. "Yeah well," said looking for a sign pointing to the lobby, "I'll pay you back in map-reading. One thing I can handle." He closed the phone, tucked it in the breast pocket of his denim jacket, and strode in the direction of the lobby.

Map Reading in the Waiting Room )

Hayden lifted his brows at the idea of a vampire helping, but all he said was, "Long as the score she's settling is on them, I'm game.  Tomorrow night, say ten o'clock?  Should give her time to get there without combusting."  He crossed his ankles and dialed the first in a series of phone numbers.  After that, he'd head back to Kris' room, force a cup of coffee and a sandwich on the Watcher, and fill them in on the rest.

Quinn nodded. "Yeah, she, um, she seems mindful about watching out for herself. I'll give her the heads-up, though." She gave Hayden a tight smile, relieved at not really having to explain, then shuffled off in the direction of the pay phones again. The Slayer first, then the vampire. Hell of a combination.

Voicemail for Matthew )

Voicemail for Devon )
reply

Gettin' On The Horn [26 Nov 2005|09:47pm]
[ mood | busy ]

Voicemail for Bethany )

Voicemail for Katherine )

1 comment | reply

Interrogation Frustration [26 Nov 2005|09:57pm]
[ mood | working ]

Well, no matter their other qualities, I can at least admire their... Stamina.

The thing still won't talk.

Not that it matters too much - I can keep this up indefinitely.

reply

Regrouping. [26 Nov 2005|11:32pm]
There's a lot to be said for insurance policies.

Most people would rue the day an insurance salesman showed up on their doorstep, but I was about ready to kiss the next one I saw.

"Demonic Terrorism" wasn't normally a category inwhich the insurance companies would see as a viable excuse to fork over the cash. Infact, I am pretty sure if anyone claimed that on their forms, they would be laughed out of the city. But given the current state of things, the phrase, i'm sure, has been used more times that I could count on my fingers, toes, and horns.

Having said that, things were looking up for me this morning when I received a phonecall from my insurance brokers telling me that I was completely covered. A relief, no less. At any rate, I'll be having guys come down tomorrow morning to start work on the damage. Should be able to open my doors again in a few days, fingers crossed.

Decided it was the best thing to do. I spent a couple days thinking about it over a bottle or two of tequila, and figured Meredith was right. Closing my doors forever would let them know they've won.

Well, whoever they were, I wasn't going to give up without a fight.
reply

navigation
[ viewing | November 26th, 2005 ]
[ go | previous day|next day ]