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Mar. 3rd, 2010


Puppy Toys! (open)

Late at night, under the light of the full moon, he was out on the prowl. A new place meant the possibility of new prey. He liked new prey. It kept his hunting skills sharp. Tonight wasn’t about feeding; he just wanted to get to know his new home.

He liked the park. It had a nice open area for running and trees for him to use for cover while stalking his prey. His human half actually liked it when he went running. He could actually feel Larry’s joy as he ran full speed across the park. Places like this made it good to be a wolf.

Or at least a wolf man. )

Sep. 17th, 2009


Don't Fear the Reaper [open]

Her afternoon at the museum with Jeannie left Betty feeling a little out of place. Something was definitely not right about all those post-its she had received and since Jeannie hadn't died that afternoon, or anytime thereafter since there were no news reports, Betty was discounting the rest of them as some sort of prank. Some sick, twisted prank.

Which meant that she was left with nothing to do. A state of being that sat quite well with the Reaper. No reaping meant there was time for shopping and maybe even looking for a new apartment. Her current one wasn't appealing to her any longer. Betty wanted something newer, something chic, something upper scale.

She didn't do with squatting in substandard residences. Didn't suit.

Walking along the sidewalk with a bag in hand of her finds for the day, she smiled and enjoyed both the weather and the break from work. It wasn't like she was getting paid to reap souls or anything. No, shopping was a far better way to spend the time.

May. 28th, 2009


training, continued (wes)

Mel ducked.

"This is like that time with Urkonn," she said, crouching lower. "And the girders."

She made a face at her Watcher. "Why do you all have to throw things at me?!"

She swept her leg out and kicked away her attacker--a newly-risen vampire--while something else whizzed by her left ear. She kicked again, harder, and the vampire fell back, shaking its head to clear it.

"Seriously." Kick. "Wes." Kick. "Thought you'd be..." Twirl of scythe. "I don't know." Vampire charge. "More..." Slice, slash, stake.

"Creative. Or something."

She smiled. And ducked again.

Feb. 27th, 2009


slow night (open)

Mel was leaning on a gravestone, the scythe in her hand, one boot touching the stone.

Supposedly there was going to be some lurk action here tonight, but it wasn't doing yet. And Mel was bored. She sort of missed the zombies. Because that? NOT boring.

The hair on the back of her neck stood up, and the slayer turned her head toward the feeling. She didn't say 'hello' or 'who's there?' or any of that. She just got ready to swing if she had to.

Who hung out at a graveyard after dark, anyway?
Tags: , ,

Dec. 21st, 2008


Holiday Shenanigans GROUP SEVEN

The actual meaning of life is in one of 10,000 books you're locked in a room with. You have time enough to check every single one, but you can't. You can only open 10 books total.

Note: All the books have normal titles. None gives a clue as to if it holds the secret

Nov. 28th, 2008


Last ditch effort (open to anyone and everyone)

Open to zombies and non-zombies alike.

The City Courts.

It was the last stand for a lot of people. They'd come here unorganized, managed to get themselves put together, and survive. They'd lost some who had come in with bites, but had managed to get them back outside without too much bloodshed. Some had been lost entirely due to the inability to excise them from the building once they'd turned. It had taken them some time to arrange themselves and make sure all of the entries into the massive building were covered.

Now they had one of the court rooms set up as their refuge. One of the court rooms set up as a medical bay. And a variety of people who were changed out every so often keeping watch on the hallways. You couldn't be too certain about these things.

Just outside was a group of those things. They could be heard moaning and scratching at the massive wooden doors. Those doors were the only thing between the living and the semi-living. They were thick and heavy, locked and held tightly closed with chains and chairs and stacked desks. Nobody would be getting in that way, living or dead.

The only way out was through a high window on one side. They had a ladder they'd found in the janitor's closet. It expanded just enough to reach the second story, where the window was. The small jut out of roof there held that ladder when it wasn't in use. They'd devised a bucket and rope system to help pull up supplies.

It was fairly sound.

But they were once again running low. With this many people, it was difficult to keep enough food and water for everybody. Not to mention blankets and medical supplies. It seemed like every few hours they had another addition to their group. Sometimes they brought things with them, most of the time they did not.

All they had to do was survive. It was proving to be easier said then done.

Aug. 11th, 2008


Dream a little dream (Fray, Buffy)

Jesse lay in his bed, eyes closed, wrapped up in his sheets from sleeping fitfully. His pillow was somewhere on the floor next to him, and he'd gone and knocked his water glass over through his flailing.

He hadn't been able to rest properly since having the thought that maybe all of those who had been killed could remember being dead. Something about that really didn't sit right with him, and he hadn't been able to find anybody who had died in order to ask them if it was true. He would have stepped in and prevented that little bit had he had the idea before hand. Before everybody had been resurrected.

Of course, in his defense, he hadn't really thought any of those people would be coming back. Where he came from, the murdered stayed down.

Actually, that wasn't particularly true, was it? He'd seen plenty of people brought back from the dead some way or another.

He just hadn't expected it here, and not all the victims of a serial killer. There had been a dozen or more deaths that he'd heard of, and it was absurd that all of them should return to life.

Jesse just didn't know what to do.
Again, he felt powerless despite all of his power.

So it would be no surprise to him when he woke up and once again wrecked his bedroom.

His unsettled thinking while sleeping brought him around to both Buffy and Fray. The blond slayer whom he'd gone and done very ungentlemanly things to in the alley had caused him no amounts of worry due to her almost immediate disappearance from The City after said rendezvous. And Fray, well, Mel was just all kinds of a new thing for him. He felt protective over her. Didn't want to see her get hurt. She worshiped him in kind of a weird way, sure. But it was flattering.

And of course, thoughts of them brought along thoughts of them together. Nothing new for him. He'd been having these little fantasies for a few weeks now. Mel and Buffy and some pudding. The dream blossomed quickly and there they were. Buffy was in a little pink bikini, and Mel was wearing a black one. They stood facing each other over a blow up kiddie pool filled with chocolate pudding. Jesse looked down and noticed he was wearing a black and white stripped referee shirt, and even had a whistle.

He blew on the shiny silver sound maker, the dream got entirely too real, and then the girls were wrestling. Jesse sat on the edge of the bed, watching. Lucidity washed over the entire scene and all at once Jesse discovered that he could control what the girls did, and had the thought that if either of them found out, he'd be all kinds of bruised in no time flat.

Jul. 25th, 2008


MM 11 [Fray]

One little
two little
three little

Three little
two little
one little

I know why it is that I shouldn't get close to this one.

She looked pissed off as I followed her through The City, waiting for the perfect time. The perfect chance. Like she might have just come away from some kind of argument.

I do miss the intimacy, however.

The gun is put into position like the other times. The shot lined up.

The shot taken.

Jun. 27th, 2008


Aftermath (Fray/Wes)

Jesse sat before Fray and the man named Wes.

He had a lot of questions that he wanted to ask, but wasn't sure if now was the right time. They might be things he should talk to just her about, later. Like why was it that this guy who was supposed to be protecting her had put her in a situation with three vampires when she seemingly had no access to her powers.

And what was with that, too?

He'd been fairly silent since they'd left the scene, and was silent now, still. They were sitting at a table in front of a small coffee shop. He hadn't ordered anything, and didn't really feel like it. There was much on his mind.

Like what might have happened to Mel if he hadn't shown up when he did. Would this guy have even helped her? Was he even capable of helping her? He didn't really seem like it. Not when they were so outnumbered.

Maybe he was being too overprotective. Maybe this was something that Slayers went through all the time.

Carefully, Jesse edged his cigarette pack out of his pocket. Played with it a minute, and then finally slid one of the smokes out and between his lips.

May. 22nd, 2008


Somebody call a vampire?

Wes completed his spell over the talisman and stood up, wiping his hands together. He checked to make sure the bleeding from his hand had stopped before walking over to Fray.

"Just one last training exercise, and then you can go home."

If she passed it. Of course she would. She was a Slayer. Right?

He checked his watch, frowning. From all he'd read, the spell should have attracted a vampire within seconds. Although, that was in his original dimension, where vampires roamed free like the buffalo. Ok, bad example, since nowadays buffalo were kept on farms...which was not a bad idea for vampires...but why would you need to farm them? Or milk them, so to speak? Thought tangent...Anyways, maybe because there were fewer vampires here and not all from 'home', the spell might take longer to work

A rustling in the bushes alerted him to an approaching...something. He checked his watch again. 2 minutes. He'd have to make a note of it in his notebook when he had a chance.

Apr. 14th, 2008


Training time [Fray - Challenge #1]

Wes checked his watch and sighed. It still wasn't working correctly. By his calculations (granted, based on what things looked like when he woke up, which might not be accurate considering his hotel was in black and white TV-land), it should be mid-afternoon. But his watch was saying 12:31 pm.

Only one thing to do then.


After walking out of the closest-thing-to-Panera-the-City-could-come-up-with, he walked over to the park and sat on the bench. The backpack he dropped on the ground besides him clunked hollowly, as if it was bigger inside than it looked and contained far more items in the interior than seemed possible. Of course, those things were true. Small magics made life easier. Large magics, however.....they usually tended to screw things up.

That was one of the things his new Slayer would have to learn. If she would ever show up.

Apr. 4th, 2008


Illumination (tag: Spike, Fray)

Jeannie was still not all that certain that this was the best course of action. No matter what Spike had said, she could not shake her apprehensions about taking him to see someone who liked to call themselves a “slayer.” In her experience, those sorts of people were never to be trusted. Which was why instead of blinking Spike to this person by himself, she had chosen to join him. So that she could keep him safe. She refused to believe that her new master would tell her to help him only to see him harmed. That made no sense. No, this was the best way. Definitely.

From the well-lit street corner where she had met him… or was that re-met him? He did seem to think they had met before. Or at least he had met her twin sister. So that meant that they had some further connection perhaps. Which made it doubly important for her to keep him out of trouble.

From the well-lit street corner where she and Spike had been recently standing, they blinked into existence in a very dark place. It took Jeannie a moment to recognize it as an alleyway. A very dim and dirty alleyway. It smelled. Was this the sort of place that a slayer person was to be found? It was most unpleasant. A half second later, she squeaked and jumped closer to Spike, grabbing on to his arm as something greasy and furry scrabbled across her pink slipper.

“Oh!” she fumed, stamping her foot to make sure it was clear of the rat. “That is… this is… oh!”

Stepping slightly away from Spike, without releasing his arm, she commented, “I cannot see a thing, can you? This is not at all acceptable.”

With a quick nod and blink, a set of streetlights appeared, three on either side of the alleyway, completely filling the formerly darkened space with bright, warm light. Pleased with her accomplishment, she beamed at Spike, looking for his approval. “That is much better, is it not?”

Mar. 16th, 2008


More random meetings (Fray)

Things were not the way that they had been when he'd set out on this misadventure. He'd originally gone searching for a source of evil that Tia Dalma wasn't happy about. She'd said that it was his sort of evil so he had to deal with it. Then, when he'd finally found it, he'd discovered that it was two small children.

Now the evil was gone, and Jesse could only assume that the children were gone as well. He hadn't done anything about it, and he was sure that Tia hadn't gone near them due to how very upset and weirded out about them that she'd been. Of course, she was also gone. Her swamp was still there, but her home and herself were missing.

He'd gotten sort of side tracked anyway. This whole thing with Spike had been at first just a way to distract himself from having to destroy two kids. Something that he wasn't comfortable with, and wouldn't have ultimately done - he didn't think. He liked to believe he was a pretty good guy with pretty good morals and a fairly secure code. Part of that code was not harming children.

Spike had brought him together with Buffy. Which had been... honestly... much needed. After losing Max, he'd felt incapable of certain things anymore. And it was nice to know that he was quite capable. The fact that it had been in a dirty alley kind of helped as well. That sort of filthy, dirty act had really awakened the part of him that had gone missing.

Now he just had to figure out what he was going to do about the soul-filled vampire. He'd promised to help, and that's what he'd intended to do. And still did intend to do. But Buffy hadn't sounded particularly confident in his abilities. He'd tried to think of some way to prove it, but if dusting a vampire without touching it and stopping time didn't spell proof to her, then he had no idea what would.

He wasn't in the bar for once. He was sitting outside at a small cafe. Looking at what they'd called coffee. It wasn't coffee like he knew it. It was light brown and covered in whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles. Coffee was supposed to be black. And not sweet.

Jesse was trying to work up the courage to drink it. He was a little afraid of what it might taste like, and that drinking it might make him a pansy.

Feb. 22nd, 2008


suck it up, kid, assume battle poise (open)

Mel's big blue eyes were narrowed and very, very determined. Forget the giant leprechaun guy. Forget it. Let's, she thought, deal with the complete craziness that was the city paper.

She'd picked up a copy on her way home, backpack slung over both shoulders, a soft pretzel in her hand and intermittently in her mouth, in large gobs. She was reading it when she got back to her apartment. It said 'soldier on.'

Mel had laughed out loud. But it got even ruttin' better: It has been recommended that if you discover a friend or family member missing that you report it. The City Police would like a clear record of all those who can't be found.

Well, shit. Really. The article said that Snow White was gone, and Bigby Wolf, too. Mel was pretty sure that was Rose's Bigby. And she was damn sure that was Rose's Snow.

She threw down the backpack, shoved the rest of the pretzel in her mouth in a very unladylike chunk that she could not close her mouth around, and she went back out.

Took no time to get to the police station, and when she got there, Mel leaned on the counter assertively, little elbows resting on the surface.

"Help you?"

Melaka Fray stood up straight. The green braid in her hair fell over her shoulder. And with the same sense of loss she'd felt when she lost Loo, when she knew that Harth was..... well, what he was... she nodded.

"I need to report someone missing," she said.

Jan. 21st, 2008


Got a Light? [open]

By all the gold in his hoard, this place was strange. He woke up, under the same damned bridge he had originally come to the City under, feeling just as awful. What exactly had happened over the course of time until he woke, he didn't know. What Sweeney did know, was that there was not nearly enough alcohol in his blood, nor smoke in his lungs to have an Irishman of the blood chipper about his cards in life.

What in the name of Bran was goin' on with this god-forsaken place? The last thing he remembered, the very last thing, was a lovely bit of a drink with that Pirate fellow. Jack, not Coke? Captain, not Coke? Jack and Coke? Captain and Coke? Hell, no matter which way it was mixed, the man was alright by Sweeney's standards. Quite alright. Except the the Irishman was distinctly not alright, as he felt like death himself had come and tossed him back under the damnable bridge like a sack of potatoes.

He stepped back out into the City and patted the pockets of his old denim jacket in search of the pack of cigarettes he couldn't recall if he put back in his jacket. They were there, of course, but no lighter.

Well, wasn't that just dandy.

"Hey!" He shouted out to the first person he saw, "got a light?"