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spike ♘ i hang my coat up in the first bar (railroads) wrote in dust_till_dawn,
@ 2009-06-21 21:00:00

who. spike.
what. an act of betrayal?
when. night time.
where. alley.
locked to. justice.
rating.status. complete.

What else was there out of this? Spike hadn't been motivated for anything as of late. A loss of motivation that had him wondering if there was anything that he could truly begin applying himself. What had become of the two groups that thwarted the end of days but a new focus on the 'sweeter' things in life. He didn't know where he was going to end up necessarily. He didn't know if he was going to have something good laying in wait at the end of the rainbow or if he was going to be where all good vampires were laid to rest. He'd heard horrible things about Hell this time of year. And despite the fact of following most of his peers. Spike knew that there were more forces at work than just Buffy's gang of White Hats and Wolfram & Hart's legion of bitches who had sold their souls for whatever they had sold them for. He didn't try to understand what others motivations were just ad he didn't understand his own motivations for the place he was now at. Some people just worked on instinct more than anything else. Spike would always be someone who followed his heart. As unbeating and probably dust by now...he'd follow it nevertheless.

Spike knew what he was in life. He knew his purpose when others were still trying to figure it out. He was someone who would be called on as "bait" or someone who could be the glorified babysitter. He'd yet to prove himself as a badass hero...or villain. He was more around the 'sidekick' type-cast but for once he was actually getting used to it in a 'I can deal with this bullshit' sort of way. He wasn't tired of being left behind anymore because he didn't even think he was all there to begin with. In some way, horribly so, he could never be one of the stand alones when it came to being some independent big bad or amazing good guy. No statues would be erected in his image. No people would congratulate him on a job well done and he would never be sought out as the first person that popped into anyone's mind. Spike should have known since he started out. The only ones who seemed to understand him were the slightly off people. Drusilla, Justice...Buffy ( at times ). There was one thing he would have to remind himself when it came to Buffy that he didn't even know until he'd thought long and hard about it.

He was truly fooling himself when he thought he could be it for Buffy Summers. He was truly fooling himself when he'd given up his vampire-freedoms as a soulless demon. He wasn't stopped by the chip anymore. He was only stopped by himself now and he was done with it. He was done with being the contingency plan or the person people needed to act as a physical shield when it all boiled down to it. He'd proven himself more than enough times and he was finished with the trials. Even getting his soul didn't require that much. He'd been hiding downwind and in the shadows from where he could see...Justice. It was usually something people would see as one of the good guys. He supposed that's where she began but she wasn't something that would be associated to the people fighting on the side of good and the like anytime soon. People learned not to judge others by their names. He'd met a a hooker named Sugar but she was nothing if not bitter. Still, he seemed to think it was poetic justice that...Justice was the way she was. Spike honestly never knew who he was fooling when it came to himself. When it came to discovering a side of himself...he knew everything already. He shouldn't be having identity issues. He wasn't some teenager. He was a vampire. He'd already had years to get in grips to who he was. It wasn't as if he was Peaches, he wouldn't angst about what he was missing out.

He would just go and get what he was missing out.

Spike wasn't going to wait for permission anymore or wait for someone to come and get him for help. He was going to do what he could, no matter which side he could work on. He supposed it was a very him thing to do. Switch sides. He didn't want to deal with the superficial bullshit of acts of betrayal when it came to him. All he knew was that he was the only one that people didn't see. The beach blond didn't wait for the body to hit the ground before he moved out of the shadows, arms hanging lazily to his sides as he inspected the scene before glancing up at Justice and kicked the corpse a little. "Less impressive than the one a couple nights ago, love. You should start watching exercising your creative juices." He smiled, bitingly, as he circled around the body before stopping right in front of her. It wasn't as if this were some social call. He didn't even know if it would end up in some way as most would see it. Business deal? Sounded to Wolfram & Hart. He wasn't into that, nevertheless, he was being egged on by the pure instinct of finding someone to team up with. He'd done it solo once and that ended up horribly. The only insurance he did have was the fact that Justice would never be like Harmony ( thank goodness for small miracles ).

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somethingwicked
2009-06-26 11:29 pm UTC (link)

( i apologize for the lateness and crappiness of this post. food poisoning and writer's block is a bitch )

Hunting had become her calling, and in a sense, it always had been. Isn't that what a slayer was? A hunter; ultimate survivalist and elite huntress of the night. There was something different about tonight.

She felt strangely evolved, much quicker, much intuned with her surroundings. Maybe it was the perks of being a demon. Aging expierence lead to physical upgrades. She couldn't deny the exhilarition. Maybe that's what lead to the killing spree.

Two bodies thus far that would leave a nice trail to her. If detectives wanted to lead into it, track her down, she would kill them, too. It was becoming easier to be a monster, then a hero. Heroism asked for too much. It was a self-sacrificial job that she felt too much of a coward to uphold. Risking her life to save people who probably would of thought she was crazy if she told them the truth about the world they lived in - seemed a bit too much to ask for. She always had bad blood in her. It was the reason she couldn't believe her watcher told her she had a heroic destiny in front of her. And that word again - heroic - terrified her.

A whore for a mother and a bastard for a father didn't really scream a rising legacy.

Maybe she was doomed from the start.

Doomed way before she met Angel, or even tried to annihalte his girlfriend. She always had a devil on her shoulder blade whispering sinister thoughts to her. She imagined she was the epihany of Lex Luthor. The bad side always trumped the good side of herself. It was a endless battle that always ended up the same way. She thought she would be upset the moment she broke out of Hell. That she would have this rage to get even. Generally, she had been, but she never expected to enjoy the dishumanity in her so much.

Somewhere between club dancing, fucking and drinking, she ended up seducing a man into an alley. It all seemed very familiar. The days of prostituting on these streets, forfeiting her body for cash. Now it would play out much differently. The minute the man brushed her against the wall she was searching for her blade. She always had one tuck somewhere, this time it was inside her boot.

A twist of her hand and the knife was shoved into the man's ribcage, she moved him more towards the middle of the alley, and watched his lips widen matching the degrees of his eyes. Eventually, he became lifeless and hit the ground with a dull thud. "Thanks for the date." She licked her knife, tasting the sweet cocution of coppery tang in her mouth.

She paused feeling a prescence, but hadn't ackowledge the minute she pegged the cigarette fumes. Spike. A smile had formed across her lips. She wondered if their conversation lead to some good.

The details of that night were fuzzy. She had more then the reccomended dose of alcohol, and was probably mumbling about wolves and lions again. What she had remembered was feeling down on love and someone else who felt quite the same.

He lover her, and she loved him. It was all poetic.

She turned to face the bleached blonde vampire that was advancing on her. Her eyes barely moved an inch when he kicked the corpse sprawled out on the ground. "Less impressive than the one a couple nights ago, love. You should start watching exercising your creative juices."

She grinned grimly at him when he paused before her. "Well, I just want what any girl wants. A one night stand with some hot stud who smells like urine and whiskey, but knows his way around the table, to lead me up to some cheap motel and make me feel special without ever having to say the word 'I do'."

She wasn't going to beat around the bush this time. Justice had done with games and signals that lead to know where. If he wanted in or out, she wanted to know now before they interacted any further. "Thought about my offer, William?" She loved that name and the tale behind it. William The Bloody who slaughtered hundreds and had a taste for spikes. Maybe if they team up she could convince to pick up the name again.

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railroads
2009-06-29 05:27 pm UTC (link)

Honestly, there was no acknowledgment to allowing darkness back into his life. He was a creature that was always going to be bound to it. Not even cursed could someone actually escape it. Too much blood. Too much sweat. Even Angel who claimed to have escaped it never got too far before it dragged him back in. No one escaped. Certainly not him. Usually he'd try to fight back, tooth and nail. He'd watch everything hit the ground as he screamed not to go back. A battle that for most would last for days, lasted seconds for him. He knew no one would notice the fall. Not straight away.

After all, who was he?

He was someone who would frequently get tied to chairs. Spike had been someone who had given it all in the name of glory and received nothing but being forced to carry the burden of watching people be exalted as 'heroes'. The sickening repetitiveness of 'hero' - 'villain' made it so that it was even hard to keep up with himself. He hadn't realized that what he was doing was just giving into what he really was until he was standing in the alley and the smell of blood rushed at him. Assaulting every sense in his body. Spike knew the only sense he was betraying was the one that was telling him to get something for himself.

Ever the observer, he was on the outside of this murderous scene. It wasn't exactly what he imagined. She was no Buffy, she would never be so he stopped any thoughts that would begin to compare the two. She was no swan amidst a crimson river. The only beauty Justice had was in her imperfections. The twisted, non-existent soul that had been blackened by the life she led even before she was a demon. When she was some lithe little slayer. He remembered her briefly in that light than compared the two. The evolution of something that was far greater than the evolution of Buffy Summers.

Justice learned her place faster than he had. She learned easily what she was good at. What she was meant to do and Spike was still dilly-dallying around the subject of manning up and propelling himself forward. He'd made his decision. He didn't need that much convincing to make his decision. He just had to think of what was happening right now. How easy it was for him to overlook the corpse when he tilted his head to the side and smirked from where he was standing. "Well, I just want what any girl wants. A one night stand with some hot stud who smells like urine and whiskey, but knows his way around the table, to lead me up to some cheap motel and make me feel special without ever having to say the word 'I do'." A quick roll of his eyes, folding his arms in front of his chest. "Oh...didn't know you were into vermin. I guess I have to try the next alley now."

He clicked his tongue, sighing a bit before moving to head out the mouth of the alley before she spoke up again. "Thought about my offer, William?" Spike smiled more to himself than to Justice before turning back towards her, folding his arms in front of his chest. "I did. I gotta say, I've been up both creeks before love." He shrugged a bit before moving over to her, not caring much for the corpse and smiling down at the petite woman. "I'm sick of being her little pet. I'm sick of--pretending. And--" He paused for a moment, forcing a smile to his lips. "Don't call me that."

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somethingwicked
2009-06-30 08:31 am UTC (link)

Substitutions were unsuitable in relationships. She would never be Buffy. And Spike would never be Angel. She wasn't going to try and shovel some substance into a hole that had been left bottomless pit for years. All she wanted was a right-hand man. She never thought she would be first to participate in a partnership relationship, but she could see the potential.

What perfect candidate for the job then a natural-born slayer killer. Even Angelus never knocked down a slayer in the two centuries he had lived. She had done her history on William The Bloody; a bloody awful poet turned vampire and became notorious. She thought he would be a tough cookie to crack. The last person she expected to see in this alley coming for an audition of 'I'm a cold blooded killer'. Still, it seemed to simple. And it was. Anyone could come marching in here claiming to be a bad ass. What she wanted to know is if he still had the stones to take an innocent life. This could all be a trick. Maybe he told Buffy that he met her and this was their plan on bringing her down. She knew all about games, and at this point the slayer could be that desperate to let a man do the work for her. From what she heard - she didn't have much time these days. She had hellhounds on her ass and the bounty would be paid up in due time.

A year and a half could go by more quickly then you'd think.

On top of it all, she found this to be epic vengeance.

Now both of the people she loathed the most would have to spend their time in Hell. Now that was rich. Just the thought of it brought a malicious curve to her lips.

She twirled the dagger between her fingers, clicking her tongue against her teeth. "You got it, Willy," she smirked. Of course, Justice was stubborn when it came to obeying. "Now, now. Don't get you knickers in a twist," she mocked his accent. "You want back in with the big boys, you got prove it first." She walked around him, sizing him up. "It ain't easy getting back in the game. The blood. The screaming. I'm still not convinced you have the balls to pull it off anymore." She pressed the knife flat against his chest.

He could choose to use fangs, but she wanted to see what creative age he could pull off. A man who used railroad spikes to torture his victims had to have something still up his sleeve. "Let's go catch yourself a cat," she grinned up at him. Justice made her way silently out of the alley and onto the streets. There were a group of girls giggling around the corner, but it would be better to start out easy. Someone who was alone, and meek.

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railroads
2009-07-03 09:01 pm UTC (link)

Spike was no substitution anymore. He'd dealt with being the scapegoat in his and Buffy's relationship; allowing her to do whatever she needed. Take whatever she needed because it was Buffy. Some sort of force the reckoned with and Spike could do nothing but want to touch the flame that seemed to burn so loud within the woman. It had ruined him. There was no typical 'he'd been burnt' by the woman. He was brought down to ruins by the slayer. She'd given him exactly what he didn't know he wanted. A purpose in life. The ability to extend outside of the normal boundaries that vampires were condemned to and than...she brought him down. It took him a while to recognize that she was never going to see him. All she saw was Angel. All she ever saw was the vampire.

Spike just didn't know if her new bloke would realize that before he was too invested in their relationship. Buffy...the woman that should have had a warning label. Or just having someone there just to tell him that she would ruin his good name with whatever she did when it came to everything. Buffy ruined lives. She ruined his needless to say. He used to be someone. Something. He used to be feared ( in some way ). His name didn't used to be Spike but William the Bloody. A name that was feared by many, a name that became just as legendary as Angelus and even more so because he was the only successful to take the lives of two slayers rather than Peaches number of zero at the moment. He had some success in what came when it came to what he was good at. It just usually took him a while to get to the point where he knew what that was.

If Justice had only known. His intentions went far beyond just getting revenge but just to have his own feet on the ground. His own independence where he was not expected to sit when he was told or heel when he had too. Spike was no longer some vampire on a leash but he was something much more than that. It just took time for people to realize that. It took him a while and he knew it would be the subject of mockery by Buffy and her friends. It had been in the past. 'Spike the bad guy' never really rang true with the attempts he made when it came down to everything but he knew it was only a matter of time. He was still the person who could bring Hell down on everything. The one that could kill a slayer and join the others to rejoice in his success. He wouldn't be reduced to being patted on the head by Buffy for doing something "good" in her eyes.

His brow arched a bit when she openly mocked him but he figured it was to be expected. If he was in her shoes he'd be suspicious of one of Buffy's self-proclaimed lap dogs had bounded down the alley to greet her. But he had yet to begin a fight nor had he met to do anything when it came to that. He wanted to find the pleasure he once did on watching the light in someone's eyes die down as they passed. Listening to their heart beat slow down before fading into infinity because they didn't know what they were getting themselves into. His victims in the past had always had such a look of confusion when he'd wrapped his arms around them and they were greeted not with a warm, protective grip but something that promised something more malicious.

"It ain't easy getting back in the game. The blood. The screaming. I'm still not convinced you have the balls to pull it off anymore." He remained emotionless for a moment, blank expression on his face before glancing at the knife that was offered to him before handing it back to her. "You think I haven't done this before, pet." He wasn't someone who just forgot everything. Angel? Angel was some sort of watered down version of the person he once was because he'd been living in regret for so long but it was just a new occurrence for Spike. He still remembered. What was the saying? Like riding a bike. Only a more violent, biting sort of bike that ultimately meant he was breaking away from everything he came to know.

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railroads
2009-07-03 09:02 pm UTC (link)

He remained silent for a moment as he watched Justice move past him, eyes tracking after her before following after her. He took his cues from the woman who seemed to be more in his element than he did when he heard the beautiful sound of giggling girls around the corner. He could be advantageous and start reaching for the big leagues now. The way one stumbled just clued him in on their current state of mind that they would never realize what was happening until it was too late as he sidled up right next to the group. He'd picked out the most...gratuitous looking. Blond girl who looked like she belonged more on the beach than Cleveland, giving her a little smile as she glanced at him.

Most didn't seem to be into the "Billy Idol-wannabe" look, but the girl looked appealed by it as he leaned in with quiet greeting. She smelled exactly like the liquor she'd been tossing back the entire night through. Eyes glossy before he just stepped back and started walking past Justice again, remaining as silent as ever before the girl slipped out her farewells to her friends before moving faster to catch up with the stranger who'd slipped her his "phone number". Spike had already begun contemplating how he would end her life the moment he'd stepped away from her, knowing as well as anyone that he should have already had the cat in the bag by the look she gave him. It was just a matter of timing as she tracked after him into the alley that he'd disappeared into.

It would never be just the heavy feeling of the blade in his hands that made him feel as though his independence had returned to him but the heavy feeling he felt when someone got that look on their face. The one that beckoned that she trusted him for the time being. A complete stranger that could have proven to be the "love of her life" but she was wrong in that assumption. The only thing he wanted to know was whether or not this should be fast or slow. He could take it either way when he was stopped by the girl who added a drunken giggle when she asked for his name. "William..." He noted plainly, tilting his head to the side. He never had any 'style' when he killed. It lacked finesse but grew in the brutality of it all.

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somethingwicked
2009-07-04 07:15 pm UTC (link)

Something obsessive smoldered a tantalizing cruelty, a brush of that mixture tangled between her vindictive smiles and flat snickers. It was a growing want, maybe even a egotism, that stabbed and stabbed, relentlessly, and now she was hooked. Justice observed intently, hungrily. She learned through his moves that William the Bloody never left the building. An unexpected hiatus, yes, but not displaced. The hunter in his eyes confirmed that one-sided hypothesis.

It that intoxicating darkness that made her an addictive psychopath. She promised herself she would go down this road again. Obsessive relationships were unhealthy. She couldn't count the number of emotional wounds that scarred her mentally - physically.

She was a terrible apathetic.

There's no refuge enslavement. Keyword being: slave. She learnt that well through love. It hurt much like salt in the wounds, burning and branding, marring scars that no laser treatment could skin away. Love had a nasty habit of making people it's bitch. It also was the ingredient to becoming a cold heartless bitch. The reason why accepting fate, dranking up demonism, was so incredibly easy for her. There was no collateral. She had nothing to forfeit.

The whole experience, watching and waiting, was enthralling. She a new burst of enthusiasm in this. Fatal attraction, much? She was basking in it. Every minute in that alley was a blessing for that girl. She had a bounty on her head that needed to be collected. A death wish. Word to the wise: never stumble into an alley drunk off your ass with a stranger on your tail. She may thought she had been safe traveling in a back, but her friends had bid her farewell not to long ago and were riding off in their cherry red volkswagen.

"Do it, Daddy," she hissed under her breath. A pair of vampire ears could pick up the sound down the alley where she leaned, owning the wall she elbowed against, gliding her fingers down her throat; a molestation against herself for being a sick masochistic. Insanity would be the death of her. She was a bomb about to explode - an impending doom to wreak of an apocalypse. He had awoken the creep in her.

She clung to this kind of partnership. Even with Angelus - it hadn't been much of adventure. He was the scourge of Europe he enjoyed playing his own cards; solo. William the Bloody had been another story. Another hopeless schmuck who dealt his fare deal of hell along the side of his beloved Drusilla. Her thoughts were scrambled, each one having a mind of it's own and she couldn't pick which one to give her undivided attention to. Eventually, she was tired of being on the sidelines. This was meant to be a gang intitation, but sometimes you needed a little inspiration. She didn't want to spoil the fun, just ignite the fire. That wasn't wrong was it?

Vinyl heels danced deeper into the alley, stalking, lips sneering. The girl seemed completely unaware of the situation. How much of in the shitter she really was in. She pressed her chest against Spike's back, standing on her tippy toes so she could wind her arm around across his chest, slipping her fingers around the weapon he held, massaging the hilt. "Come on, Willy. It doesn't have to be fancy. It's just an audition." She pressed the tip of the knife against his chest, grinning up at him, her chin, resting on his shoulder blade.

The girl had furrowed her eyebrows at this point, but broke the uncomfortable silence with a laugh. "Oh, my God. Is this a joke? Okay, Cadence. You got me...You can come out now."

It almost seemed pathetic this girl would die in a minute. She was so...hopeless.

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