Into The Abyss

There was only one sun in the sky above her. It was low, ready to dip behind the highest buildings, but it was still a long way from the binary star system that had made up her sky for the last five years.

That wasn’t right, because the only place that had a singular sun was the other place, and Fred had spent so long in her cave that she couldn’t be sure if that other place had ever been real. (Although, if it wasn’t real, why did she remember that its sun was a main sequence star, generating energy from nuclear fission of hydrogen into helium at a core density of about 150 g/cm³?)

( The floor felt strange beneath her bare feet. )

WHO: Cordelia, Spike and later Doyle
WHAT: It's been a long time coming. ;D
WHEN: Evening, after this
WHERE: Around the corner from the restaurant
STATUS: Incomplete

Although Doyle had been quick to make excuses for her spazzing out, Cordelia was still thoroughly humiliated. Hair disheveled, dress wrinkled and stained with red wine: what a sight! Much to her chagrin, the vision thing didn't seem to get any easier with time. She had held onto Doyle tightly as they exited the restaurant, avoiding eye contact with any of the other patrons. Regardless of the pain, there was comfort in his presence. Not that she looked forward to any future visions 'The Powers That Be' decided to send her way, but she hoped that he'd be there when she did get blindsided again.

She knew that they had to help the girl from her vision, but that selfish side of her couldn't help feeling annoyed. Couldn't the universe let them enjoy their first date? She tried to reassure herself that there would be plenty of other dates, hopefully uninterrupted ones!

Outside, she took a few deep breaths, hoping it would help the throbbing headache that lingered as a result of the vision. Doyle had taken the lead in contacting Wesley, which Cordy was grateful for. While he filled Wes in, she decided to head back to the car... intent on closing her eyes for a few minutes if possible. Leaning against the car's hood, she rustled around in her bag while trying to find the keys and possibly, some aspirin. This proved to be a frustrating task, due to her wooziness and the sudden dimness of the street light overhead. She let out an exasperated sigh and glared up at the malfunctioning light. "Oh, give me a freakin' break already!"

WHO: Alex Krycek and Samantha (Mulder) Spender
WHAT: Testing the waters
WHEN: Evening - continued from here
WHERE: Exiting Wolfram & Hart/to be determined
STATUS: Incomplete

A few hours earlier, Krycek had been sipping lukewarm coffee on a stakeout. Agents Mulder and Scully in the forefront of his mind. Someone had known about his little trip to LA; apparently a very powerful somebody -- in the form of Holland Manners. The older man, on behalf of an unusual law firm, wanted to recruit him for reasons he still did not completely understand. And then another blindside... Samantha. A former co-worker of sorts. Fox Mulder's sister. They had a complicated history and he hadn't expected to ever see her again. Spender had insisted that it be that way; with little explanation of course.

But here they were, face to face in an elevator at Wolfram & Hart. She'd been hired as well: sent by that cigarette smoking bastard Spender, shockingly. Paranoia and suspicion had him on edge as he contemplated a possible double cross by Manners. Eyes were fixed on the surveillance camera, until she spoke. Gaze dropped to meet hers as she tried to sway his opinion. That smile always got to him, and she knew it. "I don't know what to think, Sam..." He wouldn't say much more about the situation while they remained in the building. Posture continued to relax, slowly. A certain cool and collected facade slipping back into place.

When she set the elevator back in motion, his jaw clenched momentarily. They couldn't stay locked in much longer without intervention from someone at the firm. Brow furrowed as she revealed an obviously exclusive credit card. Shoulders were shrugged and a grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Guess I'm not part of that VIP club yet." Her intuition was spot on, as it often had been back when they were working together. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had an actual meal. Aside from the pretzels on the flight over, he'd stuck to caffeinated beverages. "Yeah, I could eat..." Her playfulness lightening the mood. She had that way about her --- lowering his defenses way too easily and sometimes dangerously so.

Doors opened and he took a step forward, with a hand lifted to keep Samantha in place. Standing in between the metal doors, eyes quickly studied the lobby. A moment later, when he deemed it safe, Krycek glanced back at her and nodded as he motioned her forward. He stepped into the room and turned back to wait for her. Eyes meeting, a full on grin surfaced at the prospect of the company paying their way. "Not like they can't afford it." Once she was at his side, they approached the exit and left the building. Instinctively, he surveyed the area for any signs of danger. He stopped at what he considered a safe distance from the law firm and gaze dropped as he looked her over. "So, where to? You want me to drive?" He still had that rental car, although he'd let her take the lead... for now.

His journey back to the relative comfort of the Hyperion's cellar was, for Angel, one occupied less with his immediate surroundings and more with the gnaw of hunger growing in in stomach.

The fight, or rather fights, with the both the now slain demon and the near doubly slain watcher were little more then rapidly fading memories in the burgeoning shadow of his rising famine. Blood. A few pints of O negative, maybe a splash of B positive for flavour and then sleep.

Angel's eyes dropped down to the latch of the door that separated L.A.'s true underground from the lower sanctum of his home as half dried gore played the part of super-natural glue, treacly bonding hand and handle enough to trigger a fleeting shift in focus from thoughts of dinner as the Vampire reconsidered his plans for the evening.

A shower. Yes, he'd have to squeeze in a shower somewhere along the line but it could wait for now. Everything could wait. Everything would have to wait until he'd fed.

"So hungry" he grumbled under his lack of breath as he climbed the stairs towards the Hotel's first floor and more importantly, the kitchen.
( Read more... )

((OOC I'm not entirely sure if this was the plan but reading through the other thread I had the vague memory that we had talked about moving to a new thread. If this is in error, please forgive me. If not, YAY me and my tenuous retention of knowledge. Either way, I'm Back Baby :D ))

Who: Faith & Holland
Where: Wolfram & Hart
What: Meetings!
When: After Sam drops her off and after Krychek leaves.
Status: Incomplete


Faith refused the chairs in the lobby. Instead, she leaned against a wall near one of the windows, idly watching this Manners guy's secretary, who was trying very hard not to look at Faith. The guards stood nearby, though not so close as to crowd her-which was good, because she was not in the mood to be crowded right now. She glanced after Sam as she headed into an elevator, followed by some guy who came out of Manners' office a few minutes later.

The felon's attention shifted back to the secretary who picked up her phone. After talking to someone that Faith couldn't hear, she looked up and smiled nervously at the Slayer. "You can go in Miss Lehane." Faith smirked at the woman, then headed for the door-followed by the guards.

Once inside Holland's office, she glanced around absently, then centered her gaze on the older guy standing behind his desk. Without waiting for an offer, she walked over and sat in one of his guest chairs, stretching out her legs in front of her. "So tell me about this deal."

Samantha had left the uneasy slayer in the lobby to Holland’s office with one of her new favorite needy peons and placed two very large Grappler demons outside the doors, as much for containment as protection. She had a whole set of misgivings about involving the slayer in anything at the firm and she sure as hell didn’t feature her having wild adventures in her office or the office of anyone else for that matter.

She made a mental note to mention as much to Mr. Manners just as soon as she felt it was prudent. She wanted to be on record as finding the slayer’s involvement a very, very, bad idea, no matter how things turned out. While she respected the young woman’s confusion, this particular line of work, for which Samantha was especially suited, required more conviction than Faith had found just yet. Personally, she would have been all the more comfortable if Wolfram and Hart dumped the girl back in jail for another couple of months to think about her situation. There was nothing like prolonged discomfort and confinement to sharpen a girl’s resolve. She should know.

She kept herself behind the sort of wall of indifference that only being an outside contract could provide. She knew for a fact that there was some chagrin on behalf of a few of the higher ups about the uneasy alliance she represented and the protected ground it set her on. What little she really knew she knew that Wolfram and Hart and her father's business were not a marriage made in heaven, assuming either party truly gave a shit about such an archaic concept as heaven. If she didn't regard Jack as the passionate, business driven individual she'd come to occasionally loathe, she might have guessed that her appointment there was little more than a ridiculously powerful guardian's version of boarding school.

Either way, she’d done as much as she could in the interest of learning the woman’s intentions and securing her uneasy confidence, and managed not to need her jaw wired shut in the process, so she gave herself permission to change her outfit and check in on a much more promising client. Her designer bag hung loosely from her fingertips as she boarded the elevator, smoothing the fine material of her black and white damask dress over her thigh with her free hand before reaching for the button for her level.

Who: Mulder and Scully
What: Making plans
When: Evening
Where: The traffic congested streets of L.A.

Mulder shifted in the hounds-tooth patterned cloth seat of the rental car and uncurled the fingers of his left hand from their temporary role of chin support before using them to push the thick brown locks of his bangs off his forehead and made a mental note to get a haircut soon. He was overdue but given everything that had happened lately...

Who: Dawn
Where: Her dad's apartment. Downtown.
When: nighttime
Closed; one-shot (unless Spike really wants to peep ;-) )

Dawn sighed as she sat on the bed in her “room”. You could barely even call it a room, really. It was tiny, about half the size of her bedroom back in Sunnydale. The only furniture was a bed and a dresser; at least she had a closet! Even that was tiny, though. She glanced at her shut door and thought about her dad, out in the living room. Seeing him again had made her really confused. Sure, she was glad to see him. She did love him, after all. But neither of them had expected this – her mom had just sent her to LA with barely any warning to stay with him.

Dawn frowned as she remembered Buffy’s reaction. She hadn’t even cared, it seemed. She had actually been excited about the idea, leaving Dawn to almost want to say “Why don’t you go instead?” Dawn knew her mom had started having headaches and not feeling well, and she’d tried not to tire her out too much, but she wish she hadn’t just been sent away.

The fourteen year old sighed again, opening her suitcase to pull out some clothes to put in the dresser. She wondered why her dad was living in this tiny place – the last time she and Buffy had visited, he’d been in a condo on the beach, not a two bedroom apartment downtown. After a moment she walked over to the window and looked out. The fire escape ran right along the window, and the window was large enough for her to get out if she needed. At least she had that much! She wondered what the kids would be like at the local high school. She’d gotten so used to Sunnydale – she’d been there the past five years, after all – that she was fairly sure she’d be behind the times at least for fashion. That meant that she’d have to work hard to get in with the right crowds. She really hoped she’d be able to make some friends quickly.Since it was almost eleven, she decided not to use the present her father had given her – a cell phone (yay!) – and instead she changed for bed and climbed in. Hopefully she wouldn’t have any of the weird dreams she’d had the evening before.

The empty glass gave a dull *thunk* as it dropped the last inch from Angel's hand onto the wood of his desk. The dark, worn grain starting to show its lack of weekly polish in the light from the bankers lamp, itself hinting at signs of neglect with a faint powdering of fine, grey dust over green glass and brass.

( There was still... )

Who: Doyle and Cordelia
What: Out to dinner
When: Dinner time ...
Where: Wouldn't you like to know?

Boy, he was nervous, not to mention way out of his league. He kept rationalizing that he and Cordelia had spent lots of alone time together. Tonight they just happened to be going out to dinner. No big deal, right? Wrong. This was a date, and he'd known from the start that he wouldn't be able to afford the kind of place Cordy deserved to be taken to. Not on his salary ( which by the way right now was nothing ). He didn't feel she should have to settle either, but there was no way he'd be able to swing that kind of money, and his old acquaintences in town weren't exactly in to the whole fine wining and dining scene. He owed most of them anyway. And Angel ... well, it really didn't seem like a good time to ask for a handout. Doyle was just grateful he had a rent-free place to stay for the time being.

Oh man, Angel. Truth is he didn't think his being here had helped the boss at all. It was heartbreaking, really, to see the one he looked up to struggling with his own humanity ( or lack thereof ). Even more heartbreaking still to know that he might not be around to see Angel regain control of his life and come to the realization that he was a team player after all ( and he truly believed that would happen ... someday ).

But enough of the doom and gloom! He was taking the night off - at least a couple of hours, anyway. Surely nothin' would happen to the big guy until he got back. Keeping Angel on too tight a leash wasn't doing him any favors, although giving him too much space could end in disaster. Doyle just wished he knew how to fix this - how to make it better. It was killin' the two people he cared about most in this world, and he was beginning to think there was nothin' he could do about it. This bouncin' back and forth, sneaking progress reports to the estranged party, it wasn't right. They weren't ever gonna accomplish anything if he kept volunteering to be the middle man.

Nothin' like a nice, positive note to kick things off with, yeah? Unfortunately, he didn't have the luxury of being quite as carefree as he once was. Didn't mean he couldn't still try to be that guy.

He'd dipped into a flower shop on the way over intending to pick out the most beautiful batch of roses he could find and purchase them proudly, but ended up walkin' out of there with a mixed bouquet instead that was a little smaller than he would've liked. Maybe if he played his cards right, she'd agree to a second date. Next time he'd know to save up a little extra cash first so he could really impress her. For now, she'd have to make do with a mediocre halfbreed in a tacky tie with a gift that didn't exactly scream 'you're everything to me.' He was kinda embarrassed, actually. Compared to the other guys Cordelia had been with in the past, what could he offer her that she didn't already have? He'd risk his life for her any ole' day of the week, and that wasn't gonna change whether she humored him by pretending to be interested or not. But what if she was really serious about this, and he blew her off? He'd be a complete idiot to pass up what could very well be a once in a lifetime opportunity. He'd only been wishin' and hopin' for this moment ever since they'd first met.

... So here he was, standing outside Cordy's apartment fidgetin' around like he had ants in his pants, too afraid to knock on the door. How was it possible that Cordelia, the woman of his dreams, could reduce him to such a fumbling, bumbling, unrecognizable mess? She wanted this just as much as he did - and even if nothin' else came out of it, he knew she could use a sympathetic shoulder to cry on ( or a lass willin' to let her yack his ears off about her current troubles ).

More anxious to get this show on the road than ever ( and wantin' to get this evening started before he chickened out ), he balled his hand into a loose fist and finally knocked.

Here goes nothin.'

WHO: Alex Krycek and Holland Manners
WHAT: An unexpected opportunity
WHEN: Evening
WHERE: Just outside of LAX
STATUS: Complete

Los Angeles, California. Not exactly where Krycek imagined he'd find himself. His own world had been upended; nearly blown apart by a car bomb. Mess up one little job and find yourself on the Smoking Bastard's hit list. It hadn't been the first time he'd made mistakes while on assignment, but those were the type of admissions you didn't make. Lie, manipulate, cover your tracks and yet the truth always came out - eventually. This hadn't been the sort of mistake one in his position would normally walk away from...

And now he had no one to answer to, although he knew that he was living on borrowed time. Constantly looking over his shoulder. It was doubtful that he'd survive another attempt on his life. Spender wouldn't allow it. But Krycek would not go quietly. The secrets he could spill. The lives he could tear apart... if he so desired. Maybe that was part of the reason why he'd fled to LA.

Motives unclear to even himself, Krycek waited on two more new arrivals - one of which had been his target not long ago and the reason why he'd had to run. Did Agent Scully know that he'd been partly responsible for her sister's death? (The wrong sister gunned down.) He didn't plan on getting close enough to find out the answer to that question, not yet anyway. The woman's partner, Fox Mulder, would be in tow and Krycek did not want to push his luck. He doubted that particular gamble would be worth the risk.

His rental car sat parked, not far from the airport. A nondescript vehicle in a lot full of many others. He had no details on whatever case the agents were currently assigned; more out of the loop than usual. Krycek would find a way to profit at their expense, or at least stick it to the Smoking Man. A sigh escaped his lips, before gaze left the road as he reached for the cup of lukewarm coffee purchased while staking out the location.

Who: Faith
Where: LA Federal Penitentiary
When: Mid-day
Open to: Samantha
Completed


Most people didn't know this, but jail was kinda like high school. You had your bullies, your cool inmates, your smart ones that were in mostly for computer crimes. You even had jocks and the musically inclined. Then you had the outcasts, the ones that everyone avoided after the first week. The ones who you knew weren't actually imprisoned; they were just there. These people didn't play well with others. Faith was one of them.

Just ask Buffy sometime, she'd tell  you.

After more than a year of being in jail, Faith was getting pretty restless. She had never been a joiner, and so ignored most of the activities. All she mainly did was keep to herself and workout in the pitiful excuse for a rec area they had. She didn't talk; talking meant she might mouth off, which meant she'd make someone want to hit her, thus causing her to defend herself and hit - or even kill - the person she'd offended. But after more than a year of this, Faith was beginning to long for the outside again.

As she pulled herself up at the pull-up bars, her dark gaze caught sight of a guard heading in her direction. Shit. Now what am I getting blamed for? The other inmates weren't above fingering her for the bruises and broken bones they often received for their own mistakes. She had time enough for two more lifts, before the guard finally reached her.

"Lehane." He barked, and she reluctantly let go of the bars, dropping down to the dusty ground. His eyes dared her to give him a reason to hit her with his baton, but she refused to give him the satisfaction. "Yer lawyer's here. Come on." He prodded her a little too roughly in the ribs with one meaty finger, leaving Faith to resist snapping it off. Instead she merely sidestepped the jabs and headed off towards the building. In her mind, she was confused. She didn't have a lawyer. What the hell was going on?

[Points of reference; events leading up to the start of _intotheabyss_. There may be references to characters that have not carried on over to the new game or are now being played by someone else. Please disregard these mentions. There may be other story-lines/scenes from the old game touched upon in future posts here. If you have questions, please direct them to the ooc community or one of the mods via email.]

Spike/Cordy - the ice cream debacle

Cordy/Wesley - Run in with the former Boss Man/Broody Vamp Extraordinaire; Now we need a drink... or ten

Doyle - The Return

Doyle/Angel - First Contact

Doyle/Cordelia reunion; Angel is Mr. Cranky Pants