Under a blood red sky

She still hadn't found out much information for Thomas, and she felt like she was failing. She knew that these things took time. She just had to keep trying, but there were moments when Justine wondered if she was helping him at all. She didn't voice these doubts to him. She knew he didn't see her as a failure at all. He would say that she did a lot for him just by being here, and she had to admit that she kept him on an even keel when he potentially could lose his patience. She just had to keep trying.

Tonight she thought to try one of the local dance clubs. The scene in York wasn't anywhere near what it was in Chicago, but she could still blend. She had been paying close attention to exactly where the pulse of fashion lay in this quaint little town and dressed just slightly better than that. She wanted the attention after all, and at the very least she could find someone to entertain then be able to snuggle up next to Thomas without fear.

It was just after 11PM when she entered the club. It was substantially warmer inside than out even with the mild weather they'd been having lately. This suited her, and her little slip of a dress that left a lot of leg, and a lot of back showing once she had rid herself of her coat. Being back in an element she knew she could control and was familiar with, a sensual and confident smile curled the corners of her lips as she sauntered her way towards the bar. Drink first. Then dance. And prowl.

Jo never had quite figured out the reason she was back. If she had, she probably would have been horrified. As it was, she'd easily fallen back into the seemingly simple act of living. She'd taken the mysterious 'gift' of resurrection and run with it. She worked, she hunted, she spent evenings with Dean. She ate, she drank, she enjoyed the way the breeze ran through her hair on the slightly brisk Fall nights in York.

She hadn't forgotten about what might have brought her back, or the nagging questions as to the why of it all. But she hadn't gotten closer to any answers and so she'd just gone on with her life. She'd even started to get used to the idea that maybe she was just back. Maybe that was the end of it.

So she wasn't thinking about her resurrection or the demons that were most likely involved in it on her way home from work. And it crept up on her so suddenly, so silently that she never had the chance to feel that trepidation over something that wasn't right. It was just as though a switch had been flipped and Jo was no longer in the driver's seat. In fact, Jo's consciousness was suddenly buried deep in the recesses of her mind. If she ever regained control, she would remember none of this.

A slow, eerie smile spread across Jo's face as her eyes turned down to her hands. She stopped in the middle of her walk and turned, heading not for the Phoenix but for Trout Run Road.

There was much that had to be done.

Saerian wandered the fair grounds on the fair's fourth night of operation. He had no interest in rides, only in the people here, and what they were up to.

It was no secret that this place was under the effects of the Hellmouth, and the Gates. He'd seen some of the side effects already. It was great, some of it; he wished he'd thought of some of these things. Everyone who'd attended, who'd played a game or gone on a ride, all of them walked away changed. Even if they didn't know it.

Tonight he stood near the ring toss. This was a game he hadn't figured out yet. The idea itself was simple--drop the ring into the bowl, win a fish. But something about it hummed with energy. Something about it was wrong.

He needed to see how.

So this was York. Quaint. It smelled clean with a crisp edge of Autumn in the air. The people she'd seen so far looked perhaps a tad nervous, but not paranoid or overly scared. But something about the place put her fur backwards. Made her want to back herself into a corner and growl. The rumors hadn't exaggerated then.

Since she would be staying on once the fair left Ana was the shill tonight, the wanderer through the fair grounds keeping an eye out for trouble and playing the occasional game where she'd win to make it look easy and draw in more marks. She moved through the early crowd with her eyes scanning around but instead of looking interested, carefree and having a good time she looked suspicious.

It wasn't entirely inconspicuous but that was hard to pull off in a small town where everyone probably knew everyone else so she didn't worry about it. What she was looking for were people as edgy as she was, possibly standing out. She'd like some information on this place before she set up stakes with her trailer.

Whether it had been two years, or two hundred, in that oubliette--that place of oblivion affectionately known as Purgatory--it had been too long. She'd almost forgotten what french fries tasted like--almost, but not quite, because it wouldn't have been much of a punishment if she'd been able to forget life's little pleasures.

She let out an inappropriate moan of pleasure that belonged on late night cable, enjoying the sound of her new voice almost as much as she enjoyed the taste of her favorite junk food. It could go from deceptively sweet and innocent, to incredibly provocative all in the space of a breath, and the body--damn! She was pretty sure she'd turned a few heads already.

No one would ever suspect her in such an eye-catching new vessel, would they?