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Divergence. [04 Nov 2006|01:12am] [ mood | determined ] [ music | Our Lady Peace - Superman's Dead ] Dreams rarely, if ever, came true. In a world where the sky drew blood and the oceans boiled over, a breath of fresh air was a luxury that no man with any amount of money could begin to imagine buying. Life was a curse which plagued those who were not fortunate enough to have died, and those whose hearts still beat, and even those whose never beat to begin with, existed with a single hope that one day their own dream of a better life would be realized. The shelter beaneathe the lawfirm had held only for a matter of time, and when it's walls withered with the dissipation of the apocalypse, Lorne had been cast into the hellish murkiness of the regurgitated world, the bleak and desolate road to a never ending eternity stretched out far ahead of him. For seven years the Pylean clawed his way through life by the skin of his horns, his diligent optimism the only thing keeping him alive. He had refused to give up, even when those around him and chosen to give in. He would never once allow himself to believe that the dimension which spat him out at the age of twenty-one could suddenly look far more appealing than the one he was in now. Wearing the tattered remains of his once most expensive suit, the demon escaped death on a near daily basis. Lucky as he was, he'd made a literal pilgrimage to Las Vegas in hopes to elude the torment of the city he left behind. But Clark County yielded no divergence, and as years had passed, Lorne had spent his days trying to survive in the dead and decaying City of Sin. Until one day, he had a dream that may have come true. He felt the world shift. He felt a pull. And then he felt the sunshine. ( The fabric of reality isn't woven like Italian silk. If such a luxury still exists. ) Lorne bit his lower lip and shrugged helplessly, "Sweetie, I wish I had the answers for you, but I don't. After you left Caritas, I never saw you again. I moved on to bigger, though regrettably, not so much better things, after my club exploded. Like I said, you and I just never meshed." "Look, i'll take you back to my place and get you some clothes," Elian offered, speaking quickly as he set his net down on the ground. "Maybe it'll help jog your memory. You seem to know more than I do." He turned around to grab his teeshirt off the back of the chair that he had tossed it over. He wriggled himself back into it. "I'll get you cleaned up, i'll feed you, and we can talk," Elian went on he pulled his shirt over his head. "Then you can tell me anything else you might remember about me. I'm desperate here, Lorne." He turned around to face the demon. But he was gone. "..Lorne?" reply

Hardest Thing [04 Nov 2006|03:20am] [ mood | rushed ] ( Handwritten letter to Darian ) ( Handwritten letter to Victoria ) reply

Reunited? [04 Nov 2006|06:42pm] [ mood | crazy ] Ryan ambled up the street, the lights and glitz of the Las Vegas strip seeming much faded and tarnished in the strong sunlight of an autumn afternoon. He wasn't intent on doing anything, just people watching. He found a cafe that had a sidewalk patio and took a table for himself, ordered an iced tea and a turkey and roast beef sandwich. The drink came immediately and he took an appreciative sip from the glass. Work went fairly well, he was still recovering from the Halloween bash Lorne had thrown though. He ran a hand through his hair and laughed at nothing in particular, which caused people passing by to glance at him a little strangely. That he didn't die from the fall was short of amazing. The beast has him by the heels, held him over the roof of the three-storey building. The low grunt could be described as laughter, but the bowelish-sound was undecipherable by human standards so he'd just imagined the thing was chuckling at his upcoming death. And a better death than the three he'd eviscerated and eaten prior to catching him, crouched and scrabbling for safety behind the remains of the broken air vent. But even more surprising was where he landed. A shrubbery. Plant life. James hadn't seen that in... well it felt like forever. Branches punctured skin, opened various old scars and created new ones. This was a pain he could live with. The question, he asked himself as he looked around at the passersby. Dressed nattily and... clean And walking. Not running. Not scrambling for their lives, looking for escape. ( What Is This Help Thing? ) ( Cut Me Deep, Heal Me Completely ) ( Take You Away Again ) (Thank You To Paul For NPC James) reply

Fallen From Grace [04 Nov 2006|08:07pm] [ mood | devious ] This was what Las Vegas was all about. Darkening as the sun was drowned in the sky only for that pale moon to rise. Casting everything in a silvery light of hope… When there was none. Not a single glimmer of it. Everyone had their own demons. Their own crosses to bear and their own twisted little secrets they hid from everyone. No one was pure. No one was saved. Everyone was doomed. It was all just a matter of time before they realised. His feet scraped the gravel on the roof, like rats scurrying across the side walk. Mocking laughter, cold and heartless sounded out like a knife clattering against a sink. Crisp, clinical and clear. Deep wounds leaked thick crimson on his neck. His hand shook as he held it to his throat. Eyes wild and wide. “What the fuck are you?” It was gargled. Sticky red haze being sputtered out in a thick spray. Like a red fog. Landing on clothes and skin and being inhaled deeply. “Shh…” One slender finger found its way against lips. Tip of tongue coming out to lick along the digit slowly. The tip being suckled lightly. Brought from mouth only to slice through the air at lightening speed. The squelch as it was imbedded into an eyeball was only drowned out when the scream erupted from his chest. Finger being taken back and licked at once more. As if, perhaps, it had scooped up cream instead. “No one likes a cry baby…” Sniffing quietly, a look of disgust creased features. He tried to push himself further away. Feet digging into the roof as he shoved his body backwards. Palm up at his eye, no longer at his neck. Leaving behind a pale, watery trail, of urine. “You realise you just pissed yourself?” It was sneered. Moving closer at such a slow pace. Deliberately. He wasn’t going anywhere. Not for the moment, anyway. Plans were made. Soon he’d realise this. “What the fuck are you!” It was almost spat out. Though that could be due to him almost choking on his own blood at the time. “Oh, you don’t know?” Another step closer. Voice being lowered as hand gripped the front of his shirt. Lifting him up again until his feet almost dangled on the ledge of the casino roof. “I’m the last person you’ll ever see.” He tried to thrash out of the grip that only further tightened. “Let’s see if you can fly” It was whispered low. Seductively. Just as the grip loosened and gravity took its course on him. He fell with a scream that no one could really hear below. His body crashed to the side walk with a shattering crunch. Then blew away as it turned to ash. No one noticed. Spitting over the edge, back of hand was wiped across mouth. A cold smirk twisting features into something almost grotesque. “Fucking vampires.” Reverie turned, and with a full stomach, made her way back down into the casino. reply

Obligations. [04 Nov 2006|08:23pm] When Chloe finally made it back to her car, she stood there for a moment with a blank expression on her face. That's when she realized she didn't have her car keys. They were in her black leather jacket hanging in the coat room of the Palms. Looking over her shoulder the entire time, Chloe quickly ran back into the casino and bar to get her coat. Everyone she passed she wondered if they drank blood. If they'd attack her at any moment. Or if they'd simply smile with their fangs, lick their lips, and bid her a good night. Yet sometimes, the scariest things that roamed in the night didn't always have fangs. "I'm not going to tell you again, Jonas, because once was already one time too many." A stained black teeshirt was twisted in Levi's right fist, the smaller man inside the garment pushed with his back high against the wall, his feet dangling a foot off the floor. The barrell of a black pistol shoved hard into his eye socket, and Jonas writhed in the grasp of the cop whose dark eyes bore into him like hard black onyx. Pistol gripped harder, and the menacing Bowman held his square face inches from the smaller man's. In the hotel room where Jonas had been hiding, Levi had kicked the door down in search of the man who made his living as a rat. Territory had been crossed, and anyone who dared cross Levi's would be bound to end up with a pistol shoved into their eyesocket. That's the way Levi rolled. "You tell whoever the fuck you're working for that the Palms is off limits," the off-duty cop snarled, forcing the man harder into the wall. Jonas had begun to think twice about dealing his own brand of meth where he shouldn't have been. Especially with Dirty-Vegas Bowman breathing down his neck. "I'd fucking kill you right now, but I don't think the owner of this place wouldn't be too happy if I left your brains on the walls of this room." He released his grasp on Jonas, and the man fell to the ground with a thump. A swift kick to the side of his head with a sneakered foot, and Levi exited the room by way of stepping over the door he kicked in. The pistol was shoved into the back of his jeans and his longsleeved shirt was pulled overtop to hide it. With his ballcap pulled low over his brow, Levi made his way down the hallways and into the main lobby, where a cigarette was lit before he stepped outside. ( Uncharacteristic regard. ) The cabdriver honked his horn and Levi's face flickered with annoyance. He was half tempted to pull the gun out of his jeans and fire a couple rounds at him to shut him up. It was obvious Levi knew he was there, for fuck's sake. Christ almighty. "Have a good night, Chloe." Another curt perk of the corner of his mouth and he stepped off the front stoop of her house and walked three feet before he stopped. "Oh, and one more thing," he added as he turned around and walked back up to Chloe. He grabbed her hand and stuffed the twenty back into it. "You don't owe me anything." He stepped off before she could protest, and with a smirk on his face that Chloe couldn't see, ducked into the cab before it took off down the street into the night. reply

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