| Crouching Tiger, Hidden Vampire |
[10 Dec 2007|12:30pm] |
Spike was thankful for underground parking garages.
Mostly because they kept the sun at bay, which meant the Champion was in virtually no danger of suddenly bursting into flames -- unless the cigarette lighter in Chloe's car suddenly broke or whatever, causing everything within a 300-foot radius to become engulfed in flames. But that wasn't likely, was it?
Spike hoped not.
Surveying his surroundings, the vampire seemed content in what he had to work with while training Chloe to not be helpless. He admired her desire to stick up for herself, her willingness to hold her ground and fight back, not scream bloody horror and run off into a dark alley in heels and a top that looked any minute as if it would fall off, leaving her chest bouncing along as she ran away from whatever it was that frightened her.
Because those damsels in distress? Those were the ones Spike wastempted to let get killed. Maybe if enough of them got whacked, other ditzy bimbos would eventually learn their lesson.
But Chloe wasn't one of those, and for that, the Champion was glad. He was also glad to be able to help someone like this; before, Spike was always helping those in dire peril, those on the brink of death or Armageddon. It was nice to be able to lend a helping hand just because for once, and if nothing else, it validated Spike's decision to take this little journey to Los Angeles.
Even if the city still sucked.
"Right," Spike said, partly to himself. "What first, then?"
(Thread open to Chloe.)
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| Still White |
[10 Dec 2007|11:50pm] |
The White Room was still white. Good to know.
But as Jill stood, arms folded across her chest, a frown grew on her pale features. Normally, when she sauntered her way into this vast expanse of white, she was immediately greeted by the Conduit – in whatever form it deemed appropriate that day. But this time, the attorney was being forced to wait, not unlike every time she would go to the doctor’s for a checkup.
Only difference? No out-of-date issues of People or Sports Illustrated.
“HEY!!” Jill bellowed, her voice echoing off invisible walls. She really didn’t have the patience for this; the brunette’s renewed sense of purpose within the firm was largely her reason for being here. If Jill wanted to grab Wolfram & Hart by the throat and force it into its own endgame, she would have to do it from a position with more power than what she currently held as a mere attorney.
Which meant Special Projects. Not just being a part of the division; running the division. Unless and until Jill got her hands on that executive position – and all the perks that came with it – she could never take over this company and one day have her way with the unseen forces that corrupted her throughout her life.
Jill sighed, glancing at her watch for the time. Only, when the lawyer’s eyes set on her wrist, Jill noticed … her watch was gone.
“What the fuck?” Jill wondered aloud, looking around her for any sight of the Conduit; there was none. A sigh turned into a low growl, Jill’s brows furrowing.
( Omnipotent or something )
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