Melaka Fray (ex_melaka_fr396) wrote in btvsal, @ 2011-03-02 14:37:00 |
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Current mood: | curious |
Entry tags: | gabriel burgess, melaka fray |
Where Mel Still Tries to Understand Watchers
Who: Gabriel and Melaka
Where: The Hyperion
When: Monday, February 28th – Evening
While she'd been in town barely more than a week, Melaka was taking to her new situation well. She'd healed up quite nicely (that was to be expected) and had a room of her own to stay in in the hotel. It was... actually better than her own place back home, she realized. Running water was great like that, though. She'd been given a small allowance for food and clothes to get her going, but was never fond of charity and more than anything, she wanted to work and keeping moving. ...She was moving right now, actually. She'd heard noises coming from one of the other rooms and decided to investigate, dressed in brown boots, black short-shorts and a green tank-top (exposing MOST of her tattoos)--She wasn't one to color coordinate her clothes, was she?
While doing a little better than he had been before his talk with Mai, Gabriel was still doing what he did best these days, and that was beating the ever loving hell out of a punching bag. He was pretty sure that he'd be up to training with Kayla again soon. He just...needed a little more space for a little while. He was glad that she was fully happy, though. He had at least gotten that far. It was an improvement.
Melaka stopped at the open doorway to one of the rooms, having discovered the source of the sound. Well, this was certainly interesting, wasn't it? She'd never really seen a Watcher go at it before... then again, the most she'd seen so far was one Watcher set himself on fire, and the other vigorously cleaning his glasses, so clearly she hadn't seen ALL there was to see where Watcher's were concerned, hm? Anyway... "Does that help?"
He had actually heard her come up (being a little more aware of himself would help with the hearing), so he didn't jump this time when someone came upon him. It was a girl he didn't recognize, though. A new Slayer, maybe? "A bit," he said to her. "It's a cathartic thing for me." He looked her over. "Are you new?"
She entered the room slowly, quietly assessing him in her own way. "Cathartic..." She repeated, stopping a few feet away from him and crossing her arms under her breasts. She'd... mostly taken up with training with a few of the girls... but that only helped so much. Maybe she needed to beat the living hell out of something as well, hm? "Brand spankin'. A girl named Faith found me," she said, her accent clearly screaming New Yorker. Also? She actually liked Faith. She was a cool chick.
"Faith Lehane. Mr. Giles's Slayer," Gabriel said, as if reciting something off of a file in his head. "Runaway from Boston, one of the first Slayers found in LA once a base was set up here..." He shook his head. "Sorry, habit." His mind was much closer to a computer than people usually realized. If, on a scale of 1-10, and the peak of perfection for a human was 5, his intelligence was along the lines of an 8. He just usually focused on the physical side of training with Kayla because that seemed to be what she preferred. "How long have you been here?"
The rattling off of details didn't bother her in the slightest. People always assumed that she was simple... but then again, that was because she let them think that. "It doesn't bother me," she assured him, walking around the room slowly. She didn't really feel threatened by him... curious, maybe, but not threatened. "Ten days now. ...I'm not really from around here," she added.
"New York if your accent is correct," he said to her. He had no idea about the time travel, though. That certainly would have been interesting to hear. He watched her calmly as she walked around. He had seen Kayla and the others pace around. Slayers were full of energy. It was hard for them to sit still for any real amount of time.
Luckily she'd looked at a map recently, hm? She nodded at his guess. "Must be common. Apparently time traveling is too. Who wouldda thunk?" She smirked lopsidedly, although there was some bitterness to what she'd just said. While she wanted more than anything to go back home, logically she knew that she couldn't... that there was nothing LEFT. It broke her heart.
He arched an eyebrow at her. "Apparently," he countered. "May I ask *when* are you from, then?" Most of the others seemed to have come about twenty years in the future, but that didn't mean she did.
She actually took the punching bag between her hands, getting a feel for it, before knocking it around lightly. Well, light for her, anyway. Her was right... it WAS cathartic. "22...43. We had flying cars. They were useful." She actually pouted a little then. Even though she didn't DRIVE, they were handy to jump around on. Now... things seemed SLOWER to her. Less chaotic.
He stepped back and watched as she started to bat the punching bag around. "That's...much further than the others that we've been getting," he told her simply. "And no flying cars here. Just the ones that run around on wheels."
"I noticed that," she grumbled lightly. Still, she was adjusting. She was good at adjusting to situations. Maybe that's why people had trouble fighting her... or getting to know her at all? "How long've you been all Watcher guy? And more importantly... any urge to set yourself on fire?" She smirked lightly when she said that, clearly joking there as she put more force behind her punch against the bag.
His eyes widened slightly. "No urge to light myself on fire. Too painful." Maybe drink himself to death, but nothing nearly that extreme. "I started going to the Watcher's Academy when I was about ten."
Hm, clearly she still had a lot to learn about Watchers, huh? Then again, she had a lot to learn about demons and herself as well, but one step at a time. "You'll have to tell me some time." She hit the punching bag one more time, taking the damn thing off it's hinge and knocking it to the floor several feet away.
He watched calmly as the bag slid across the floor. It was something he had seen other slayers do in the past, so not so shocking. "Feel free to ask anytime," he said simply to her.
She pouted at the bag thoughtfully. She was still trying to gauge her strength, it seemed. She picked the bag up and reattached it. "Maybe later," she replied. "Seems like a good excuse to talk to you again."
"The last time we reinforced the bag, one of the other Slayers broke the pole off the floor." As good as she was, Catherine had massive anger issues, it seemed. "And I'm happy to talk whenever."
"That makes me feel better." It made her smile. Despite the fact that she desperately missed home... she also didn't have people like her there. "And good. You ever need someone to talk to, or let your anger issues out with, I'm up on the third floor."
He nodded. "In that case, we might be talking a lot then," he admitted to her. He was doing better, but he still wasn't exactly doing great.
"I could use a friend," she said simply. Hell, she had issues of her own that could probably use some talking through.
"You and me both," he admitted. "Feel free to come to me anytime. Honestly, I'm usually here." Although he avoided the rooms him and Kayla used to train in now.
"Same to you," she replied. He seemed nice enough, after all. She'd... likely leave the hotel at some point, though.