| Nothing Of Importance, Yet |
[06 Oct 2006|05:40am] |
Jo had been keeping a very low profile recently, no particular reason for it. She'd just been keeping to herself, doing the Slayer thing at night and catching only a very occasional shift behind the bar. Otherwise, she'd stayed hidden mostly in the office or upstairs.
Today was different, though if you'd asked her, she wouldn't have been able to tell you just exactly why. It had started out with the discovery that the Advil bottle was empty. She'd been pretty sure there was some in there, but who knew with a number of people living in one space.
That actually worked surprisingly well most of the time. In any case, she'd gotten dressed and gone looking for her keys, which she knew for a fact had been hung on a hook just inside her bedroom door.
They weren't there.
She searched through all her jacket pockets, looked on top of her dresser, sifted through the stuff on the kitchen table and finally given up for a few minutes.
She'd sat in Nyx's favored chair with a grunt, only to jump right back up with a stifled yelp of pain and surprise.
That was where her keys were. Hmm.
Weird, but not completely unexplainable. She grabbed everything else and headed out to the grocery store in the next town over. She didn't feel like possibly running into anyone right at the moment, answering any questions as to her absence.
In the truck, she noticed one of her keys, the blue plastic topped one, was now green. She shook her head and sighed, figured Nyx or Julie or someone was playing games with her and forgot about it.
She pulled in, parked and headed into the store, grabbed a cart absently and rolled it around the store, put random things into it without any thought at all until she came to the OTC medication aisle. Then she looked specifically for the easy open top Advil. Not that she had a problem with the other bottles, she just liked the ease of it.
Once she'd paid for, packed and driven all her purchases home, unpacked, put it all away and taken the painkiller, she went downstairs to open the bar and start the business day.
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| Potential Disaster |
[06 Oct 2006|12:51pm] |
The walk home was fast. Feet barely touched the ground as she swerved in and out of crowds, ducking into the hotel and running straight up the stairs. Clothes were changed, instead of black trousers it was a short black skirt. One actually above her knees. Leather boots that went to her knee instead. The black shirt was swapped for a black sleeveless top. Her hair was pulled free and brushed straight. It looked darker, her features looked paler, and she added a touch of makeup to her eyes and lips.
Reverie didn't look like the sweet innocent girl people often viewed her as. That was a good thing, the blood churning in her stomach and tainting her meant she no longer felt like herself. No longer cared what people thought of her and quite literally wanted to let her hair down. Perhaps in the worst ways.
Or was that the best ways? When she was good was very good but when she was bad...
Minutes later, booted feet carried her up countless flights of stairs until she was outside a very familiar door. Prowling, almost, as she paced back and forth. Green eyes staring at the door before finally she stopped and knocked on it.
( Surprise! )
( She Didn't Like It That Way )
( We Met )
( Suit Yourself )
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| Catching up. |
[06 Oct 2006|05:42pm] |
The ceiling of the Kay Motel suite 106 was a dingy beige and laced with wispy gray strings of cobwebs. Meredith lay on her back ontop of the bed in the centre of the room, staring with tired eyes up at the ceiling fan which spun and hummed quietly above her.
She hadn't really moved from that position since she came, save for the occasional bathroom break. Her mind, which had once been clouded, was now empty, and once the adrenaline had seeped out of her system, the brunette was left nothing but a feeling of utter and hopeless emptiness.
There were no regrets for her actions. She killed a man in cold blood, but as one who wields the power to give retribution to others for their own actions, Meredith knew that even though she didn't use her special gift, Randy Broughton had gotten what he deserved.
She had called GW earlier on, in hopes that he would stop by and see her. Meredith knew his great-aunt was in town, and she figured with the weight of her current circumstances on her shoulders, it would more or less be a good idea to keep it away from GW's family. Even at this point, Meredith felt maybe she should have kept it away from GW. But he had the right to know what was going on, she owed him that much. She didn't want to start off something potentially good in her life by hiding something bad.
Being idle in your own grief was probably not the greatest thing to go, but Meredith found she didn't want to leave her room. She felt content to lie there and think, to let her thoughts collect and her mind settle. Elian had been a good friend, and she loved him like her dorky older brother; the last place she wanted to be was The Green Room, because she couldn't bear being there without Elian.
She thought about Lorne, and how he must've been suffering. She wanted to be there for him but she couldn't. It was too hard. So instead, Meredith lay in the middle of a dusty old hotel room, waiting to hear from the only man who could possibly bring her out of her slump.
( The only person I want to see right now is you. )
He patted her hand "I'm a Marine, Mere. One who is a blackbelt in unarmed combat an holds a high expert badge on de rifle and pistol. Bowman hafta get real lucky to catch me unawares when I'm keepin' an eye out, you bet. Be even luckier t' take me down one on one."
He still did PT on occasion with the local Marine active duty and reserves that were in the Vegas area, and was drinking buddies with a few of them. There was no doubt that if he needed some backup he could put a fire team or two together if the situation was FUBAR'd enough to call for it.
After all, every Marine was a rifleman first.
Of course, the ideal thing would be to keep violence out of the equation until the police took care of Bowman themselves. "If de Vegas cops won' deal wi' it den we'll go to de feds."
Meredith admired GW's conviction in wanting to help her out, but she knew deep down that no matter what federal agency or police department got Bowman into custody, she knew, given his reputation, that that slimy bastard would worm his way out of it.
Even if her potential boyfriend happened to practically be an ass-kicking super hero without the tights, Meredith had the supernatural ability to do things that even GW's rifle could not. Perhaps together they would make a great team - not just in the bedroom, of course - but with his skills and her powers, who knew how far they would get.
"Either way," Meredith said quietly, then leaned over to rest her head on his shoulder, "We'll get him, GW. We'll get him."
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| Getting reacquainted with the city I call home. |
[06 Oct 2006|11:06pm] |
Elian had literally been playing a game of Russian Roulette with his credit card.
Every transaction was like a pull of the trigger, and every pull of the trigger was met with the relief of the 'Approved' message.
Because he couldn't be wandering around all day with only one sandal, (though half wondered to himself what in the hell he may have been thinking wearing Birkenstocks anyway), he'd taken the liberty of purchasing a much more comfortable pair of Vans, as well as various other garments and a baseball cap.
As Elian wandered in and around Vegas over the course of the last couple of days, his initial assumption that he was a visitor to the City of Sin slowly changed when he realized that things like street names, the best place in town to get sushi, the nightclubs to avoid, and all the little piddly things like where the post office was, came easily to him, which had changed his suspicion in the beginning that he was only a tourist.
However, finding where he lived wasn't an easy task. Realizing he had no keys on his person, he did the next best thing and checked the phonebook. Only one DeMattéo was listed, which happened to be an older woman who "ain't never heard of no Elly-en, ain't that a girl's name?" then silently cursed himself for having an unlisted phone number.
But finding a place to stay hadn't been much of a problem. As Elian had soon discovered, "Hey, do I know you from somewhere?" just so happened to be one of the greatest pick-up lines of all time, and with a face like his, he found he could coast from hotel room to hotel room every single night without so much as a hitch. He'd managed to stay at the Bellagio twice now, once at the Wynn, and a couple of other popular locations on the strip. Seemed what happened in Vegas truly stayed there, and as Elian discovered, women travellers who came to the Las Vegas seemed to be incredibly ... giving.
However, Elian realized he could only ride the gravy train for so long. He couldn't survive solely on his charm forever, nor was his Mastercard a never ending fountain of wealth. Sooner or later he'd pull the trigger and end up 'Declined'. It was more than likely a good idea that he find himself a job and a more permanent place to live.
First thing in the morning, he'd pick up a paper and hit the grind. It was time to get this life on the go.
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