Low Tide

Up and down the streets of Key West, people hosted house parties for New Year's Eve or got glamorous and headed to one of the professionally-planned celebrations. Since most holidays, the latter only ended up in trouble, Rhiannon and Connor turned over a new leaf and stayed home, inviting new and old friends (and friends of friends) to join them. If the world ended, they could always grab weapons, drive a few blocks, and show up in time to save the night, right?

The house they rented was a small, one-story cottage with a screened front porch, a small back stoop, and a modest yard inside a picket fence. A fire pit had been dug out and could be used, if the temperature dipped low enough -- meaning the 60s. A charcoal grill was lit for burgers and hot dogs. The kitchen counters were full of snacks and drinks. One of their computers supplied music, and a variety of cards and a few board games had been set out, just in case anybody wanted to get into that. On the back porch, a few packages of fireworks and sparklers awaited midnight.

Mostly, they just hoped for company. New Year's was a great way of starting out fresh in Key West.

[Thread: Open to Rhiannon, Connor, Purity, Izzy, Whistler, Hannah, Destiny, and anybody else who's brought along or, hell, even wanders by on the street and decides to drop in or gets dragged in. :) ]

Rationally Kris knew that getting drunk or as close to drunk as she could first thing in the morning was a really bad idea, but she was kind of feeling another bad idea, especially as last night had been completely unreal and she still wasn’t sure what to make of it.

She’d even called in sick - the first time in God only knew how many years. Kris didn’t think she could face Leon or the people at the station, not after what she’d done last night. All in the name of good - she knew that - didn’t make it any easier to live with.

Whistler’s card was sat on the counter beside the bottle that was rapidly dwindling with every gulp she took from it, Kris hadn’t even bothered with a glass.

Simon had noticed and hadn’t even tried to say anything as Kris had her ‘say anything and I’ll kill you with my bare hands’ look on and he knew better than to try anything right now.

He did knock on Jenny’s bedroom door, figuring he should at the very least give her a heads up before she awoke to find the foul beast in the kitchen.

( Monster In The Kitchen )

( Hearing Voices )

( Voicemail Left For Whistler )

OOC: NPC!Simon was played by Mands.

GW waved goodbye as the taillights of Henri's van sped off down the street after dropping him off at the Marina. They'd had a couple gigs up in Miami and the upper keys over the weekend and it had been easier for all the band to go up together, and it certainly saved on the gas!

It had been a profitable trip, both in exposure and money, but traffic had been terrible. GW had spent the last eight hours in a van crammed full of musicians and gear during the ride back to Key West, and the Cajun was definitely ready to stretch his legs. He really needed to decide what he was going to concentrate on professionally, trying to juggle fitness/martial art instruction and music was getting to be a hassle.

That thought in mind, GW hefted his guitar case and duffel bag and started down the dock toward his boat.

"No, would'ja listen, I--" Whistler paced to and fro in front of his houseboat, glowering at the static voice in his ear. He hated phone calls with the Council. They always knew best. Forget that their ranks were decimated almost a decade ago, their headquarters destroyed by a bomb. An enemy they didn't see coming. They were blind to the obvious.
( Meeting again for the first time )

At first it felt like a dream. A horrible, terrible nightmare. Only he was brushing his teeth. Images flashed behind his eyes: blood, a long, jagged spear going through flesh. And he could hear her voice. Not calling out for him though.

When Whistler'd become conscious in this new world, things weren't right and he knew it. It wasn't readily apparent but soon the memories became clear. The first thought of his best friend had unlocked them. As in the dimension he'd come from, where part of him still was, the Agent had met up with the teenager who'd become his best friend. Their bond cemented, just as before. But something had gone terribly wrong, and it was his fault.

Hugh Everett posited a Multiple Worlds Interpretation, which suggested that a multiverse existed where all things that didn't occur in one reality took place in others, and then spun out in different branches. In this world, Whistler had killed a Slayer and, racked with guilt, irrevocably broke his friendship with Rhiannon in order to go into seclusion.

What hadn't changed was his connection to her. When she'd been injured, he immediately knew and nothing would keep him from the hospital.

( No Ping )

( A Decent Young Man )

Kris had just gotten off shift an hour or so ago, but after that close encounter with mister likes to bite a lot she had decided that maybe just maybe she deserved and could do with a drink. She'd promised Leon that she would at the very least speak to Jenny about the bite, but honestly Kris didn't know what else Jenny would be able to do given that she had already had all the relevant shots anyways.

She stripped off her jacket as she slid onto a stool, ordering herself a shot of whatever was strongest in this bar. Her hair had been tied up but was shortly let loose and free, curls settling around her shoulders and resting there for a moment until pushed out of the way by a hand that steadily worked at some of the tension.

"God," Kris murmured quietly. "What a night." The white bandage on her neck and the bruises on her face were the telltale signs that this off duty police officer had had a rough night.

She straightened the curve of her back and thanked the bartender for the shot, dropping the hand from her shoulder to clasp the glass, lifting it to her mouth where she swallowed it in one.

( Rough Day? )

( Practical Learner )

( So Getting Fired )

( The Vampire Slayer )

July 2007 (in the Low Tide 'verse)
Detroit, Michigan

( Mercy )

( Opening a Rift )

( November 17, 2009 )