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Angel (broodysoul) wrote in somerealityrpg,

New York. Angel hadn't exactly had the greatest New York experience the last time he'd been in the city. He was already back to shrinking in alleyways, though, so maybe he was feeling more at home than he thought. As long as he didn't see any rats.

"It called this place Goodland," he said, acknowledging he'd read the letter. Something about a room waiting for him in a villa, ostriches, and rent. Nothing about why he was there, how, or a way to get back to Sunnydale.

"I'm Angel." He didn't know why he gave his name right away; he didn't have any reason to trust her, but what else was he supposed to do? "I need to get back," he said, taking a step or two forward without thinking. "To Sunnydale. I need to--"

A small breeze flowed into the alley which caused Bonnie's scent to hit him like a ton of bricks. His features shifted, but he turned around quickly, unsure if she'd seen him. "I'm sorry. You shouldn't be here."