[September 24th, 2008] fightordie who. buffy, angel, and a splash of a demon what. after her talk with sam, buffy goes to find the crossroads in an attempt to barter angel's soul back. when. just a few hours after the buffy/sam scene locked to. angel rating. pg-13 status. complete! It hadn't been easy to coerce Sam into giving her the details about the Crossroads, and even when she had, the concern and almost heartache his features had been so drawn with had nearly been enough to make her re-think her plans. Almost. Eventually, she'd been able to convince him to tell her the location. Incidentally enough, there happened to be three or four in Cleveland. On further examination, that wasn't terribly surprising. After all, there were people here in excess that Buffy figured wouldn't mind trading a soul or a life for something. Fortune, fame, sex -- anything and everything could be a driving force behind someone's decisions. How could they have any idea just how monumental a soul was? How important it could be? Buffy knew, and she'd already thought through the list of what she was willing to trade for Angel's. It had almost frightened her when she realized how small the list had been of things she wouldn't do to get it back. Sam must have known this to an extent, and that had been why it had been so terribly difficult to pull any information out of him. When he'd finally told her the location, he'd begged her to be careful, or to let him go with her. She'd turned him down, but had promised she'd come back in one piece. If anyone knew Buffy, they'd know that promise was as empty as promising that the sky was not blue, but it had been impossible to not say the words, especially with Sam's dark eyes imploring her own. ( even lucifer began as an angel ) 4 reply

[September 23rd, 2008] fightordie who. buffy and sam what. a continuation of the last thread status. complete ( done over aim ) ( pay no mind to the voices ) reply

[September 16th, 2008] 5_2_83 who. sam winchester what. sam rendezvous with buffy at the hotel. when. during the abel/wesley/lilah thread. locked. buffy status. incomplete One is the loneliest number, two is company, and three is a crowd. Sam felt biased, if you will, over the principles of life that the flavor became sticky stale and his fingers were frozen from raw mutilation. He smelled the air, quivered from the vehement stench of death, which seemed to leave a residue that was stained; incapable of being removed no matter how many times you scrubbed, until your fingers bleed and your lips quiver from the frustration. He was frustrated, but more importantly, he was tired - tired of the burdens life bestowed upon him, as if it were his responsibility to mend them together with his enchanted needle and thread, and if he hadn't disappointment would surely followed. Life was a bitch. His worries were a plague and despite his recollection of his diagnosis, he hadn't known it was curable - especially but a woman, who stole his heart and he would rip hers in to pieces. He was a tortured soul, doomed to annihilate those who were capable of giving themselves fully to him. He wanted to tell Buffy he was incapable of seeing her and neglect any proper excuse to bide him the acceptation, but he couldn't lie - even to a complete stranger - and he certainly couldn't tell her the truth, that even if boyish charms passed him as an ally, he was the farthest of a saint and capable of something much darker - but more remotely, he couldn't explain exactly what because the anonymous stain was still unknown to himself. He couldn't ignore his duties either, when a lady in distress called for his help, because if he did then everything he had done was worthless - even if he helped so many, he couldn't stop now and take a rain check, because that wasn't how it worked. ( i'll be there ) 2 reply

[September 13th, 2008] sixfeetabove who. abel davis what. abel roams around the city with a mission to located lilah's apartment, but obviously she came at an inappropriate time. when. sundown. where. lilah's apartment locked to. lilah and wesley status. complete! Colour milked the sky a dusky violet, stitching the sky in concentrated violet, momentarily hypnotizing it's audience. When you witnessed nocturnal phases, it mentally impossible to appreciate the sunrise; a disappointment of society, false and defective. Abel had spent ages depicting the flaws of reality, and carving out the core and inspecting it's compact shell, her conspiracies expanding, hypothesis and conclusions defying the laws of principles with a pale malice sharpening a well - more improved - abel davis. The bitter end of the bullet is a piece of metal that invokes fear most - while others would consider themselves troops, instead of civilians; cause they seen the worst mankind could inflict on others and aren't afraid of the consequences. Abel considered herself a real trooper; she wore the complacent smile to prove it, bladed finely for your pleasure. She wasn't about to surrender authority when this world called for dominance and stalwart honesty in order to survive the chaotic thresholds, and be able to break through any barriers that fall on the other side. She sniffed the cool air in search of that threshold, but all she smelled was unworthiness. Nothing was worth her time. Except, maybe, Lilah Morgan. ( who are you? ) 7 reply

[August 21st, 2008] fightordie who. buffy and faith what. the two slayers get into a heated argument. when. i have no idea. i'm sick. leave me alone. locked to. closed status. complete ( done over aim ) ( we crash and burn like trains derailed ) reply

Spikey wants to play.. [August 11th, 2008] fool_for_love who: Spike what: Spike is mad at what Angelus and Justice did to Buffy so tries to find Angelus at his apartment but only finds Justice there. when: Night locked to: Justice status: complete It didn’t matter to him if she didn’t want him anymore. It didn’t even matter if she wanted to toss him to the curb, he’d still care about Buffy Summer, nothing would ever change that. Buffy was the one that changed him into a better man, made him get a soul so he could be better and fight the good fight. That was why he was going to do what he was doing, nothing was going to hold him back anymore. ( ... ) 11 reply

[August 10th, 2008] ex_thatvisio935 who. cordelia chase what. the powers that be decide that the good guys could use some more help, per cordelia's request. when. early morning locked to. one-shot status. complete "Come on, guys." There was a pause as the Seer's chocolate colored eyes traveled across the tall, robed figures that stood a few yards in front of her in the large, white room. "Or whatever the heck you are." The middle one shifted, obviously annoyed. "Look, for the past three years, I have sat up here with you, and let's face it -- you're not a real happenin' bunch, you know? I've done what you wanted. For three years, I've watched my friends. I've watched them die, I've watched them go into battles I knew they couldn't win, and I haven't said anything." Oh, she had wanted to. Cordelia had begged The Powers to reverse Fred's death when it had first happened. That had only managed to piss them off, and they had made it clear that she wasn't allowed to interfere again. They had, after all, given her a second chance already. She'd thought she had managed to get Angel back on track. Maybe she had, but then Fred had died. The fight against Wolfram and Hart had come soon after, and Cordelia could do nothing but sit up here with The Powers That Sit On Their Ass, ( Not that she'd ever tell them that to their faces ) and watch. She was done watching. It probably wasn't the brightest idea Cordelia had ever had, raising her voice to the robed figures. "You've seen what it's like down there! It's a bloodbath! You always say that you're here to keep balance, but where is the balance in that chaos? People are dying left and right. Angel's been turned, and there's no telling how long it takes before he kills one of -" The large, booming voice that iterrupted seemed to come from everywhere, hitting her at all sides. She knew, however, that it belonged to the middle figure. "My patience with you grows thin, Cordelia Chase. We asked you to help us, not question our decisions, and not to interfere with the lives of mere mortals." Whatever fear - no, fear wasn't the right word. Reverence, maybe - she had felt for them before fell around her feet as she stepped forward, chin held high and eyes narrowing. "Those mere mortals are people that I love! And what about the others? Angel, Buffy -- they're Champions. You call them your champions, the champions for "The Powers," but when it comes down to it, you're going to let them all get slaughtered." Now, her voice dropped into more of a plea. "You have to let me go back. It will just be as long as I'm needed, and then I'll come back, and -" Again, she was interrupted by the large voice. "If we let you go, you will not be coming back. We took your life for a reason, Cordelia. You can do more good here than you will ever do down there in that madhouse. If you go down there, how do you know that you won't get slaughtered with the rest of them?" All very good points. Cordelia just didn't care. Not anymore. "I don't know, and I don't care. But I want to go back." For what seemed like hours, there was a stillness in the room. No one spoke, no one moved. She was almost sure they were going to say no, just before the middle figure nodded. "Very well." A withered, bony hand lifted just before two fingers snapped together, and the room was suddenly filled with a blinding white light. It was so bright that Cordelia had to lift her arms in front of her face. And then it was over. ( it was not death, for i stood up. and all the dead lie down ) reply

Blacking out the friction. [August 9th, 2008] king_of_cretins who: Xander. what: Xander waking up, chillin out. when: Early morning. where: Hotel lobby; Cleveland. locked to: Open. status: Incomplete. I think that it's brainless to assume that making changes to your window's view will give a new perspective. And the hardest part is yet to come When Xander awoke, it was the twilight hours of the morning where neither night nor day were dominant and a dull blue awashed everything. The delicate space of time where dawn raged towards them but no trace of ginger burn was evident in the sky, not yet. His eyelids lifted gradually, taking a second to adjust to the in pour of muted light and color through two russet hues. Things held in a state of ambiguity before finally coming into focus. The room was essentially barren, stocked with only the barest essentials (even the bathroom seemed bare, no fancy soap or towel hanging from a rack.) The only item of comfort was a queen sized mattress covering a decent portion of the wooden panels and a dresser pushed up against the wall near the window. It was a quiet testament to how he lived his life nowadays, taking nothing for granted or in excess. Movements based in sluggish approach, he rose to a sitting position, tossing the comforter off and letting his legs hang from the side of the bed. Clad in only a pair of blue-black boxers and a white t-shirt, a drowsy yawn expelled past his chapped lips and into the silence of the room, effectively breaking it. A glance to the alarm clock faithfully resting on the dresser top told him that it was seven in the morning. It was somewhat early for him to be getting up on a day he didn’t work but his brain had already been turned on, he might as well get up than spend the next thirty minutes laying prone in bed, hoping that if he can still his body enough, it might still his thoughts and sleep would find him again. ( It's just an escape (it's overrated anyways) ) 11 reply

[August 6th, 2008] fightordie who. buffy and dawn when. right after the buffy/angelus thread what. buffy comes back home from the fight, and realizes she doesn't want to be alone. locked to. dawn status. complete! Cleveland, Ohio. It wasn't a pretty place, wasn't even marginally welcoming. Sure, the tourists got to the see the bright, fake parts of the city. The places where everyone put on their best smiles, showed off their big homes, and acted as if just on the other side of town lied a much darker place. A place that no one wanted to see. Buffy did her best to keep her eyes on the ground, trying to avoid the eyes of the people that resided in the maze of brick alleys that Buffy wove through, taking the quickest route to the hotel. The homeless, the prostitutes .. those were the ones that kept back here. Cleveland's best kept secrets. Fingers tightened around the strap of her large, black bag she had slung over one of her shoulders, until her knuckles turned a bloodless white. A sidelong glance was given to a haggard looking woman. She might have been in her early twenties, maybe even younger than Buffy. At one point in time, she might even have been pretty. Years of drug abuse, and even more of the physical kind, had aged her beyond her years. Bleached blonde hair fried from the extended use of chemicals, one of her front teeth were missing, and everything about her clothes screamed 'prostitute.' How did people live like that? She'd often times found herself wondering the same about Justice. How the woman had let men pay her for the chance to use her body, abuse her then leave her like trash -- it was beyond Buffy, and she found herself wondering the same about the woman she'd managed to spy out of the corner of her eye. In all honesty, Buffy probably looked like she fit right in about now, with her torn halter top, scuffed leather pants, messy hair, and a bloodied face. Absently, she raised her hand, trying to rub at some of the blood that stained her chin and neck like a crimson curtain. It was dry for the most part, and only came off in flakes. With a defeated sigh, she let her hand drop back to her side, and continued moving through the alleys, making sure to keep her eyes down on the way, not wanting to witness any other life gone tragically awry. ( god love your soul, and your aching bones. take a breath, take a step. meet me down below. we just can't get it right, but we're on a roll ) 6 reply

[August 5th, 2008] drumyinsides who. drusilla what. drusilla is back in action and decides to go out and feed. when. late at night where. the central park; cleveland locked to. willow and dawn status. incomplete Echoes cluttered every direction, mockingly and triumphant - though at this point of insanity it was hard to depict which real and which were her imagination. The differences didn't matter to Drusilla, because she had faith in the moon and catered to it's words as if it were a real person. She didn't underestimate, nor contradict. These were gifts, however, and should be treated tenderly. It had been months, perhaps longer, since she involved in anything permanent that could cause speculation. There were tow brothers on the loose that she didn't to run against. It was risky as a solitary vampire and she was so use to having someone to rely on. Her family was broken apart, and Spike made it clear their last encounter that his allegiance was irreversible. There were tricks up her sleeve, but she was willing to risk loosing all the cards until she was certain a trump was plausible. She didn't mind. It gave her proper time to just be a vampire. She played, she feasted, she taunted. It was all in good favor. But the loneliness of it all had her taking up the company of dolls, again. She replaced Miss Edith with a dollie that had a worse temper then her ancestor, but adored her masochism that punishment was rarely an option. But tonight? Miss Edith Junior wouldn't comply, nor have the least bit of respect for her superiors. She mocked her ability to change the stars and Drusilla didn't like those odds - true as they were. She had Miss Edith tied up to the bed post and the fact the dollie wouldn't move otherwise, hadn't prevented Dru from conspiring stronger restraints. "See what happens when you play with those pigs? You'll think twice before you go in that pen again." She barked, but more ferocious then her usual playful style. "If I spot your hands red again, I'll bite them off." Or lick them clean, whichever. She curled her lips into a pout, then puckered them before relaxing. She knew the stars were changing, despite if Edith didn't think so. Angelus was back. The slayer was breaking. And Spike? He would come around soon. Hadn't he always insisted into temptation? She knew him more then that slayer had and she knew how to unfold him. She could play him like a fiddle, like any sire seemed to. He was chipless now, which would make the process much easier. But for now she was starving. The martyr against Edith wasn't satisfying her appetite either. It was weird feeding alone on a frequent basis. It wasn't as thrilling we didn't have a partner in crime. ( come play with me ) 5 reply

[August 4th, 2008] fightordie who. buffy and angelus what. buffy goes to a club, knowing angelus would follow. she only thought she was prepared to face him. when. a few nights after the wesley/angelus thread where. an unnamed club. status. complete. ( done over aim ) rating. R. ( you cut her hair ) reply

[July 28th, 2008] ex_immoralit3 who. justice harvelle what. a flashback from the past before justice realizes sanity is a privilege. when. a month after being a demon; nighttime. where. angel's apartment. status. one-shot complete you try your hardest to perfect your explanations Cruelty gave birth the moment earth was created; a enormity that nourishes on the fatalities of hope, exuberance, and love. It threads it's womb from the finest fabrics of delinquency, tailored down in every stand of hate. It convinces individuals - such as ourselves - that we subjected to nefarious sins and are completely capable of defying our principles. It waits hungrily, never satisfied and infinitely merciless. you lie until they've run out of questions Justice recalled herself caving into that ardor far too early in life, helpless, consumed by it's potentiality. She was taught cruelty without discretion, knowing it's presence every insult her mother would jive. Or that feeling of filthy and violation when she was tooken by a man, over and over again, reminded that she was worthless. She believed every word, every syllable, every fucking vowel. It was easier to accept inferiority, since the prize meant nothing would ever be expected of you. She could be lifeless. Even if that meant forfeiting her humanity. Sacrifices had to be made, right? ( the empty shape in you ) reply

[July 23rd, 2008] faceofanangel Who: Angelus. What: For weeks Angelus has been playing cat and mouse with Wesley - neither one gaining the upper-hand. Angelus decides it might be time to finally step up his overall act. When: About a month after losing his soul. Where: Cleveland's nightclub scene. Locked: Wesley. Progress: Complete. What most people failed to understand was that murder was an art form. A type of legerdemain with its own set of rules and expectations - it took genuine talent to commit a perfect murder. One that stood the test of time, as did a beautiful painting or an inspired passage of music. It was a damn shame the three were not quite viewed by the same societal standards, but whatever, whatever. What did it matter. He enjoyed selecting and stalking, the symmetry of it all - simple, garden variety sleight of hand, a mix and match wardrobe of masks and personae, the sanctuary of out-and-out lies - enjoyed the physical challenge of tracking and overpowering his chosen quarry. What trust tasted like - the tang of betrayal. The spice of lust and sweet, heady ripeness of fear, terror. An oral history shared between mouthfuls of blood truer than any found in a dusty tome bound in dead skin. He was hardly content to only go after attractive young women, or scavenge from the homeless and destitute who had been found in abundance on the streets. No, Angelus wanted individuals that had a chance to fight back and escape. Not that they ever succeeded. But that was because no matter how good they were, he was better, not because he hadn't selected the strongest, smartest and fastest. He remembered the way their eyes would flare open, like guttering candles, then dim to nothing at all. He remembered the warm, yeasty, coppery smell of living flesh, and how the scent shifted as bodies cooled. He remembered the way they felt, the feel of their bones snapping like autumnal twigs, the yield of skin, the texture of hair wrapped around his fist braceleted in ruby, cheloid traceries, suffering as an art form in a century of wanton bloodletting. And all his notions of continuance, all his thoughts of time and place, all his memories of past and present, remained bound together by that one constant, the ancient and immutable ribbon of warm, red blood. The club was thumping several decibels higher than his patience stood for when he left the cruel chill of the street for the steaming redolent interior, stroboscopic and flickering with white light. Beams cut through darkness and illegal smoke and plucked puzzle pieces from the chaos of dancing bodies on the floor. Theatre elegance, over-elaborate, restored and polished to perfection, himself the only preternatural blemish here. It reached for him and he responded, so loud it had overrun the boundaries of sound to become almost a physical presence, something he could touch, something that could touch him in return; a blood-deep itch of percussion that spoke in crude and limbic terms of sensual pleasure. This was the place. ( We all want something, Wes. It's the way of the world. Everybody's got an agenda. ) 14 reply

[June 25th, 2008] fightordie who. buffy what. buffy wakes up in her hotel bed after the scene with justice/angel. when. the morning after the torture scene where. the hotel locked to. willow rating. pg-13 status. complete! silent in my sanity, i live safe inside my cell - in the darkness that surrounds me. It was the sensation of warmth pooling across her face that finally spurred Buffy from her deep slumber. When puffy, emerald eyes fluttered open, Buffy groaned when the golden, brilliant sunlight burned her eyes. It wasn't until one hand lifted to cover them, did she realize that one of them was swollen nearly to the point of being closed. Both eyes throbbed, but the black eye was the worst. Slowly at first, then too quickly, the pain registered with her, and it was enough to cause her entire body to quake once. Instantly, Buffy tried to will herself back to sleep. Back to the place where the pain wasn't quite as real. Unfortunately, that same pain kept her from doing so. ( true love is a fairy-tale. i'm damaged, so how would i know? ) 15 reply

[June 22nd, 2008] niblet Who: Dawn and Justice Where: On the way to Sam's hotel When: Slightly backdated-just after Possessed!Buffy leaves Dawn Locked: Justice Progress: Incomplete ( this pain is just too real ) 6 reply

Some things never change. [June 20th, 2008] fool_for_love Who: Spike and Faith When: Night time What: Spike runs into Faith while looking for Buffy. Where: On a street in town. Progress: incomplete ( We could all use a little Faith sometime ) 6 reply

[May 18th, 2008] ex_something386 - who. Justice and Demon!Buffy // - what. Buffy summons Justice after hearing rumors about her new "body". After a few insults, they come to an agreement that could very well be bad news for Angel. // - when. Late at night; After the Angel/Demon!Buffy thread. // - where. A local cemetery. // - progress. Complete ( done over aim ) ( dirty little angels ) reply

Three Small Words [May 16th, 2008] niblet Who: Dawn When: Morning after the Buffy/Angel thread, a couple days (I think) after the Buffy/Dawn thread. Where: Buffy & Dawn's hotel room Locked: Buffy Progress: Complete ( Three Small Words ) 7 reply

[May 15th, 2008] fightordie who. demon!buffy and angel what. the demon goes to visit angel. i know, i know. super descriptive. when. tree nights after justice's death. rating. pg-13 status. complete ( done over aim ) ( and not to pull your halo down ) reply

[May 12th, 2008] willow_magic [ mood | excited ] Who: Willow and Justice. What: Willow goes looking for magic stuff. Where: At a magical store Willow found. Status: Complete. ( Magic makes the world go 'round. ) 4 reply

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