The Tiberius J. Swann Education Facility

Who: Roger, Dante and Wesley
Where: BGH
When: Tuesday afternoon
What: Roger & Dante return home for a brief spell
Rating: NSFW!!!
Note: AIM scene

(  I can be happy but never like I am with you. So I won't wait. There's no.... point in waiting. You're it. )

Who: Dante and Dee
What: An Outing
Where: A Surprise Place in Danvers
When: Seven
Rating: R for coarse language


Dante didn't trust Dee. That didn't necessarily mean he didn't like her, but he didn't trust her. Therefore, he was unwilling to tell her much about himself. That didn't mean they couldn't hang out together, and he couldn't watch her get drunk and dance and writhe around in that sexy way she had. He had seen her dancing at the party in the tunnels, and he couldn't lie that she was deliciously appealing. All the right lady curves in all the right places. He imagined that she'd look even better all wet, which was the goal for the evening.

He didn't show up at seven like he said he would, because he wasn't one to satisfy anyone but himself. He didn't want her thinking that he was eager to appease to her. Heaven forbid. He was dressed as he usally was, a ripped pair of dusty jeans and some generic tee shirt that looked like it had been stolen from the goodwill store. (Truth be told, it had.) And his boots, worn in and dirty and fraying, that stomped through the hallways to Dee's room. He knew where it was because he'd read her file. He had also picked up a few more fun tidbits from there.

His large knuckles rapped on the door loudly, shaking it on its hinges. "Dezaray Liên," he shouted loudly, though in a very decent French accent. "Of Queens New York, get your friggin ass out here..."

Who: Dee and Dante
What: Sparring
Where: The gym
When: Late morning
Rating: R for language and mild violence

Erin was gone. Bam bam. She had packed up all her shit and had left. Her room was totally empty, like she had never existed. Bam bam. It only took her two days. Two days since they had talked, two days since she had told him she couldn't do this with him anymore, two days since she had said goodbye and acted like she wasn't crying as she shut the door on him. Bam bam. The punching bag he was pounding was shaking hard on its chain, the bolts keeping it tacked to the ceiling wriggling looser and looser with each punch. Hitting the bag was therapeutic, cathartic. And it was a lot less dangerous than hitting another person, though not as satisfying.

He had come to the gym at this hour because other people wouldn't be in here. Dante didn't want anyone else to be in here. He wanted to hit things hard and maybe shoot off a few sparks and not have someone else come in and try and make inane small talk with him. So when he caught a figure out of the corner of his eye, a lady figure, he growled deeply, punching the sandbag with a blue sparking fist, tearing a hole through it.

Who: Peyton, Lyle, Dante and Godric
What: The Rescue... CONTINUED!!
Where: Roswell, NM
When: super early Saturday morning (after 1ish)
Rating: PG 13

Lyle walked a few paces behind Dante, a hand covering his mouth, eyes fixed on Jack's limp, muscular body slung easily over the other man's shoulders. This was too surreal. Dante was just carrying him around like he was weightless, like the dead body was nothing at all. A sack of flour. Five minutes ago that man had been alive and angry and dangerous, and now he was just... dead. Lyle watched Jack's head bob with each step Dante took, the wooden stake in his eye jutting out menacingly. It would not have suprised the young vampire in the least if the madman suddenly jerked back to life and lunged for him, massive hands outstretched and ready to kill.

"Where the fuck're we going?" Dante asked back over his shoulder. He was supposed to be finding some kind of lab. This guy Jack Billings was a psychopath, both by story and firsthand testimony. Dante might've liked the guy if he hadn't been deadset on killing people that Dante wasn't quite willing to be dead. And although he had only known the guy a few minutes, and had only heard him talking in a businesslike, annoyed tone, Dante had gathered that the guy was like a mad scientist, or a villain from a comic book. And as such, his laboratory would be impossible to find.

"Uh... I-I dunno," Lyle admitted hesitantly. He had been in the house before, but only in the front rooms. Paige had been more than willing to allow him access, but she didn't think he needed to peek into the laboratory, and Jack had tossed him and Grid out before they'd made it past the bathroom. "But I think it's on the west side, cuz I didn't get to go to that end."

"Hm," Dante grunted in reply, taking a turn down a boring looking hallway. There was a blinking light at the end of it, probably some kind of security something, which was promising. Sure enough, the door was just a plain looking door (locked of course) with a rectangular blue screen beside it the size of a small photo frame and a dark glossy dome above it. Palm and retinal scanner. Letting Jack's body drop to the floor, Dante growled a little, furrowing his brow. Thankfully he'd only stabbed out the one eye. "Grab his hand and put it on the scanner," he instructed gruffly, grabbing the sides of the corpse's head and lifting him up bu the neck. Jack's shoulders sagged, his thick neck stretched and straining from the weight.

Lyle stood still, just staring. "I... hafta..."

"Grab his fuckin' hand!" Dante snapped. "You wanna get short stack, we gotta get in the damn place first."

Swallowing, Lyle bent and grabbed Jack's wrist gingerly, his arm heavier than he'd expected. "I was... I was going to do it," he said softly, letting the dead man's hand drop on the scanner. A yellow line skimmed up the blue box, then down, while Lyle struggled to keep it flat on the panel. "Kill him, I mean. I was going to. I had it planned out, what I was gonna do, how I would... I knew I had to, and I thought I could talk myself into it. I thought I could do it. I knew I could do it because I had to." Once the scan completed, he let the hand drop, wiping his own hand on his jeans.

Arms shaking a little from the strain of keeping Jack's body upright, Dante rested the guy's jaw against his shoulder, one arm keeping him in a headlock while the other held the undamaged eye open. The retinal scan wasn't as obvious as the palm scan. No red lasers came out like in movies, it was just a bright light and them a small buzz as the door before them slid open. Both men walked inside, moving slowly, unsure as to what would be awaiting them. Dante felt he had been right- this guy was a comic book villain. There was impressive equipment all over, tubes and machines and tables and vials and books scattered everywhere. And laying on a steel table in the middle of the room, tubes coming out of every limb, was Peyton. Lyle rushed over to her side, speechless. She looked so pale, and so small, and her head was shaved. All he beautiful hair was gone. Electrodes were stuck all over her too, her temples and chest and shoulders. "Start peelin' those off," Dante instructed, looking over the various fluids being pumped into the girl. He knew what these were. He had seem them in Roger, right before the operation. A feeding tube, saline drip for hydration, some kind of drug to keep her knocked out. Swallowing, Dante took hold of a tube and pulled.

Lyle's eyes widened in fear. "What're you-"

"I know what I'm doing," Dante snapped tersely. He really hoped he did.

( Peyton had been stuck in one long ass dream. )

Who: Godric, Reese, Lyle, Dante, and Jack
What: The Rescue
Where: Roswell, NM
When: Friday evening
Rating: R for violence


Two weeks was long enough. Godric was not a man who acted on impulse, but Peyton had been gone long enough. Nox had been right- he couldn't just sit around and do nothing. He was her father for God's sake, he had to do something. Unfortunately, he didn't have a plan as to what he could do. There was nothing he could conceive of that Jack Billings might want, and even less that Godric could offer him. But he had to try. So with Lyle, Reese, and Dante in tow, Godric booked the earliest after dark flight out to the desert. Not much was said on the trip over. There was a shared anxiousness and animosity shared amongst the group. Everyone was worried about Peyton, what state she would be in when she was found, if she would even look the same. Jack was nothing like a normal man. He had deformed his own son for curiosities' sake, had been splicing his daughter's DNA since shortly after her birth. Any scenario their imaginations might concoct was reasonable to expect.

The only person seemingly at ease was Dante. He wasn't sure why he had agreed to coming, but he knew why the vampire queer had asked him along. Shortly put, they needed muscle backup. Dante had heard all the shit about this Jack Billings guy. He knew Peyton wasn't normal, something about aliens or whatever (he didn't care too much). He knew that Jack had fucked up his own son with some kind of experimentation. And he knew that, if push had to come to shove, he would be the only one who could actually kill the guy.

( Of course, nothing was going to work in their favor. )

Who: Nox and Dante
When: Friday night
Where: a bar in Danvers to start
What: drinking!

Nox's conversation with Dante the day before had been strange. There was so much left unsaid, and that was probably for the best considering the sensitivity of the subject matter Nox wished to discuss was not appropriate for an unsecured channel like instant messaging. They could really only discuss such matters in person, which was why Nox offered to foot the bill for a night of drinking. Maybe it would loosen the man's lips on what really happened in Tucson.

Kissing Belle, Nox told her he might be home late but that he'd try to avoid returning with injuries this time. While a second round of fighting was possible, Nox was hopeful the men could remain civil this time.

He grabbed his keys and headed off to meet Dante in the parking lot, expecting not only to arrive first, but to be the one driving this evening. Nox was wrong on both accounts. Dante was waiting for him, sitting on a car parked right beside Vivian. "Good evening, Dante."

Who: Dante and Wesley
What: Finally talking
Where: The living room at the BGH
When: Wednesday night
Rating: R for language



It was late at night. Dante was up nights because he didn't like sleeping anymore, because sleep made nightmares and nightmares kept him up anyway, so he might as well just not sleep and not have horrible images in his brain. But pacing around his room was boring. The laptop was in Roger and Wesley's room, and he didn't want to go in there just in case some kind of something was happening and... well, those would be even more horrible images burned into his brain.

Tromping downstairs, Dante went immediately into the kitchen, raiding the fridge and cupboards. He wasn't really hungry, just in the mood to eat. After ten minutes of indecision, Dante finally grabbed a beer and a raw hot dog and went out to the living room to watch bad movies. Or porn. Whichever was more interesting.

Wesley was sitting on the couch. Pausing just a moment, making a split-second decision to simply ignore the guy and not turn in the other direction like he wanted to, Dante flopped heavily onto the opposite end of the couch, taking a bite of his hot dog and planting his feet on the coffee table.

Who: Dante, Roger and Pam
What: Dante returns
When: Monday Morning
Where: BGH
Rating: R for fighting/language


Last night Dante had spent with Erin, laying with her and being with her and not worrying about what would come in the morning. Of course, when morning came, Dante was worrying. He left her while she was still asleep, kissed her forehead and headed back to his room, taking a shower and changing his clothes. Now that Erin was staying, he had something else that needed to be taken care of. Something possibly more important, equally scary.

( Standing in front of the huge house, Dante swallowed, the lump in his throat refusing to go away. )

Who: Erin and Dante
What: The benefit dinner and eventually killings
Where: The Tucson Embassy Suites ballroom
When: Friday Night
Rating: R

Erin was in the bathroom, had been for over an hour. Yeah she was shaving her girl shaving areas and cleaning herself and putting on makeup and getting into her dress and doing her hair all nice and all that shit, but honestly! How long did she require? If this was a date in Bristol, Dante would have left without her fifty minutes ago. Unfortunately he needed her tonight. He would tell her that he needed her because her name was on the reserved tickets for them, but the truth of the matter was he needed her to, essentially, hold his hand. In his own shower he'd sparked up at least a dozen times, his hand kept jerking while he was shaving, and his back was just a granite slab or stress. He looked good in his tux, but then all men looked good in tuxes. That was their purpose. Outward Dante looked calm and collected, like he was ready for this. Inside, he wanted to crawl into Roger's bed back home and cry.

( Does it say 'On the Run' or what. )

Who: Erin and Dante
What: Discussing battle tactics and fancy clothes shopping
Where: Tucson, AZ
When: Tuesday Afternoon
Rating: Dante PG (language)


This was so fucking lame. Dante was sitting cross legged on the bed, a laptop on his lap (no questions where it had come from) looking up information on this place that Sophie Martineau worked. TruQuest. Apparently it was some corporation that helped smaller companies develop and manage themselves better. Really, it was a big business that didn't actually do anything, and covered up their activities with a hundred different five dollar words on their homepage. He was browsing the main page with a furrowed brow, annoyed and confused. Having broken into the offices earlier in the week Dante knew that most of what TruQuest did was just cover up for other very illegal doing that were going on behind the walls. A lot of drug trafficking, money laundering. They pretty much used their lame ass business front to find small businesses to secretly exploit while they hid their Swiss bank accounts from the government.

The question was, how did he infiltrate without belonging to a small business? Sure, he could get to the reception area with just himself and a suit, possibly get a business card and a phone number for one of the "coaches". That wouldn't get him to Sophie, though. He couldn't pose as someone looking for a job, either, because he didn't know fuck all about this place or its so called practices. However, there was a fundraiser benefit going on Friday evening. It was a very big social event, invitation only, millions of dollars being shelled out and traded there. Dante had a feeling that this was a lot more than some charity event. This was probably the kind of organization that covered up illegal billion dollar business deals. If he'd been an undercover cop, getting into this function would've made his career. But Dante didn't give a fuck about taking down the conglomerate. He cared about taking out one woman.

As Erin came back, still damp and smelling of chlorine, Dante barely raised his gaze to grunt at her. He needed to think. How the fuck did you get into the social event of the year when you had absolutely no social finesse?

Finally looking up, the look on Dante's face was none to dissimilar to the look Galileo surely must have worn upon discovering where the center of the immediate universe truly lay. A slow, cunning smile spread over his lips, piercing blue eyes locked deviously on Erin.


( I think, miss priss, that your skills will come in handy. Finally. )

Who: Dante
What: Calling Wesley
When: Afternoon
Where: Payphone about a mile from the hotel
Rating: R for swearing

He didn't want Erin to know what he was doing, so he'd told her he was going for a run and just left. She hadn't had a chance to say anything before he was gone. It probably did not confuse her that he was randomly taking off, not even when he climbed onto Jessica and sped off. Nothing about him seemed to confuse Erin anymore. As frustrating as it was to be so readable, he liked not having to explain himself to someone anymore.

Pumping about four bucks of quarters into the phone, Dante dialed the number he was reading from his cell phone. Chances were, if he'd called on his phone it would go unanswered.

( He'll be a lot more pissed if I'M DEAD! )

Who: Erin and Dante
What: Tucson!
Where: Tucson, AZ
When: Early Sunday Morning (1am-ish)
Rating: R for language


In reality, hiding all of the available towels and his clothes in a neat pile behind her on the bed was probably a childish plan. Though in plain sight, any approach to take them would be met with a bout of force that could knock a small horse two steps sideways. Erin couldn't create a force bubble around her, but she could send out a punch in any direction she pleased, and even count on Newton's third law to accompany her.

So when Dante walked out of the shower, presumably naked unless he had cleverly found a new use for the shower curtain, Erin lounged out in her expensive capris, pretty sandles, and white tank top across the bed.

"Explain. We're here now. Explain."

( She needed explaination? How much more did she require? He had to kill someone. Case closed. )

Who: Erin and Dante
What: To Tucson!
Where: Current Location: Alamogordo, NM
When: Friday Afternoon
Rating: R for language

The highways of the southwest were dull, dry and dusty. Luckily Dante had sunglasses and Erin had a helmet that kept the dirt off her face, although anytime they stoped she made these faces that clearly indicated she wasn't happy about being so dirty all the time. But her stoicism was surprising Dante every day. Actually, everything about her was surprising him lately. She didn't prod, or push for more information, or glower at him for almost breaking her nose. She just let things be as they were. It was kind of awesome.

Along interstate 10W, amidst the glorious scenery of rocks and dirt and red clay, there was a sign. He didn't quite read everything it said, bunch of towns he didn't give a crap about, but one thing stuck out in his mind: Tuscon, 379 miles. That's when Jessica started shaking, when the engine revved without him giving it gas, when the headlight flickered and the bike started jerking about. That was when Dante pulled off to the side of the road and killed the engine, dismounting before Erin even had her arms off him yet. He paced a few feet off, hands balled into fists.

His internal currents were jumbled and messy and sparking like mad. Something was not right. Was it because they were getting close, because the possibilities of what lay ahead were nearer? He didn't know. But they needed a break, apparently.

( Erin let out a soft yelp of surprise as Dante abruptly shot off the bike. )

Who: Erin and Dante
What: To Tucson!
Where: Current Location: Memphis, TN
When: Damn Early Tuesday
Rating: R for language

Much to Erin's pleasure, the two of them managed to stay a second night in a hotel -- the kind that had clean showers and provided a soft fuzzy robe -- and not a motel. She had no issue with spending her money if it meant she would be comfortable. Secure in the knowledge a man with a meat hook for a hand was not traipsing outside their door, she slept easier.

At least until Dante punched her in the face. The solid crack delivered to her nose in the middle of sleep was a shock she had never actually experienced before. There was something to be said for being scared awake, but being punched awake was an experience not too many people had. She let out a loud scream of agony as her world exploded in whites and shadows around her, and her hand immediately flew up to her face. Even brushing her nose made it hurt, and she sucked in a staggering breath before bolting upright.

The movement made the blood pour. Bleeding. She was bleeding. Her vision returned much too slowly. After her initial bellow she let out a smaller cry, mostly in response to the scary amount of blood staining the sheets. Dizzily, she scrambled out of the bed to head toward the bathroom. At least she didn't have to worry about staining pajamas; she was wearing his shirt. She'd slipped into it after they'd had sex.

( She would take the beating stoically, like a man. )

Who: Erin and Dante
What: To Tussan!
Where: Current Location: Roanoake, VA
When: Sunday
Rating: R for language

Fourteen hours on a fucking bike was holy hell. Especially when you had a prissy ice demon riding bitch who couldn't sit still and seemed to like feeling you up periodically. Well, okay, that part hadn't been hell, but the rest sure as fuck was. The girl looked like she was readying herself for a cross-country road trip with the girls. It annoyed Dante how fucking adorable Erin was, despite her total impracticality. She had a purple damn backpack for God's sake. Purple! Still, she was a trooper, he had to give her that. He had anticipated a lot more whining and grumbling, and she was keeping it to a minimum even though it was obvious that this lifestyle was totally not for her. It made him wonder what the hell she was doing here if she hated it so bad. The answer, of course, was him. She wanted to be with him. And reluctantly, he wanted her around too.

It was like a beacon from heaven when Dante spotted the Motel 6 sign lighting up the night. Ten o'clock at night and his ass was starting to feel numb. He pulled into the parking lot, highway hypnosis making him jet through the rows of cars a lot faster than was safe. He came to a startling halt right in front of the door, the two of them jostling. He was tired, but it would still be awhile before he went to bed. His phone had been vibrating all damn day. Shaking the tension from his shoulders, Dante twisted his torso to look back at Erin, eager to see the look on her face when she realized she'd have to sleep in this place.

( Her expression was pretty much what he thought it would be. )

Who: Dante
What: A downtown surprise
Where: Danvers
When: Friday afternoon
Rating: H for Huh??

When Roger had been little, Pam had bought him small gifts on the weekends if he'd behaved himself all week. Dante knew this because he held some of Roger's memories, had looked through them over the years. This one sprung to mind because of Erin. He and her had been getting along fairly well, because she had been less annoying this week than usual. So to reward the good behaviour, and to encourage more, he decided to get her something. Boyfriends did that kind of thing, right?

It had taken him awhile, but finally he had found something acceptable- a girl helmet for when she rode on Jessica with him. Simple, dark colors, nothing too feminine but girl enough that Erin would like it. That way she could feel special and also shut up about her brains being splattered on the sidewalk.

( He knew that it meant something... just didn't know what. )

Who: Nox, Dante, Belle (and probably Wes later)
When: Tuesday, probably close to midnight
Where: Nox's apartment
What: the boys got in a brawl and need healing

Both bleeding, both hobbling, both actually... smiling... Nox and Dante were an odd sight to behold. Thankfully, the campus was quiet this time of night, and if Nox had his way, no one would see them. He needed to get a healer to patch him up fast. It wasn't that he minded the pain, because that was strangely therapeutic. Nox just didn't want to deal with a bunch of questions in the morning, and become a distraction to his students.

Unlocking the door, Nox let Dante walk in first, but not before putting a finger to his lips to remind Dante to keep it down. A baby was sleeping inside, and if they were lucky, Belle was too. It was unlikely though. The elemental didn't require sleep. Still, Nox was light on his feet as he crossed through the living room and into the kitchen.

"I don't have any steak on hand. Ice will have to do," he whispered, nodding toward Dante's swollen eye. Immediately, Nox went to work preparing a plastic bag filled with frozen cubes and handed it over. He grabbed a towel a second later and gave that to Dante as well. "Now what do you want to drink.. beer or liquor?"

Who: Dante and Nox
When: Tuesday night
Where: starting in the staff parking lot
What: drinking... LOTS of drinking er.. FIGHTING!

Nox had a bad feeling about this. Going out for drinks with a student was bad enough, but this was Dante, and that made matters worse. Alcohol caused lines to blur. Though, they'd been blurred enough already, and not just with Dante. Nox was still thinking about the day before and Fisher's visit. He sighed. Why had he agreed to this?

It didn't matter now. He said he'd meet Dante, and Nox wouldn't go back on his word. So after finishing up at his office, he returned to the apartment to shower and change into more appropriate clothing for a bar atmosphere. Nox never really looked 'casual', because he carried himself with far too much professionalism, but at least he was wearing jeans.

Heading into the staff parking lot, Nox spotted his car, covered and protected from the elements. Footsteps could be heard approaching as Nox peeled the fabric from the Vivian's exterior, revealing the black beauty beneath. "I didn't expect you to be on time," he mentioned casually, not turning around to actually see Dante, but Nox sensed that it was him.

Who: Roger and Dante
What: Finding someone a man
Where: A gay bar
When: Monday Night
Rating: R

Like with most everything else Roger ever did with Dante, he did not have a choice in the evening's events. Dante had come back from dinner, informed Roger they were going out that night and then proceeded to rummage through his clothing. Of course Roger had planned on spending the evening with Wes, either hanging out at his place or talking to him online or some such thing. But going out seemed nice, especially since Dante had been the one proposing it. Roger was curious as to what it was the golem did in his spare time. Roger wondered if he simply walked around cursing at people and shoving them aside. He had been positively bowled over when his roommate stated flatly that they were going to a gay bar.

"We're not going to beat up trannies, are we?" Roger asked skeptically.

"No."

"Alright..." He paused, thinking some more as he pulled on one of Dante's sweaters. It was very comfortable, though a little big on Roger. This must have been something Erin picked out because this was certainly not Dante's style. And it smelled very clean, something Roger hadn't done. Was Dante doing laundry now? Strange. "We're not going to protest, are we? Because you remember I'm gay?"

"No," Dante said irritably. "We're not going to cause trouble, get in a fight or otherwise raise some kind of sutuation. Ok?"

"Alright..." Still, Roger was skeptical, and rightfully so. Dante had a girlfriend, Roger was with Wesley. If Dante wanted to go dancing they would have gone to a regular club, and he didn't seem the type to be a fan of Brittany Spears and Cher. So what the hell was he up to? But Roger knew better then to push Dante for an answer. Instead he just enjoyed the ride on the back of the bike (despite how weird it was to cling to Dante) and decided that he would enjoy the night.

( You are walking a daaangerous line, Bates. )

Who: Erin and Dante
When: Tuesday evening
Where: Dante's Room
What: Erin does the unthinkable -- she apologies and admits she was wrong.
Rating: NSFW
Status: Not quite finished...
[OOC Note: Criss, thought we could continue in Gdoc then just add in comments as needed]

The air in the hallway outside Dante's room was chilly. Erin was nervous. If Nox was right, it meant she was wrong, and Erin hated being wrong about anything. The only thing she hated more than looking stupid was having to apologize for being stupid, and she was preparing herself just for that.

Dante's wild mouse had been a gift. Not an insult, but a gift. The way he had avoided her and didn't even bother to rub the joke in proved it. He had been trying to apologize, perhaps, for his flippant behavior last Friday. Right? It had to be that.. He was too immature to not ride a joke into the ground. For fuck's sake, he was still calling her kissyface, and that had been months ago! The image of his delicious abdomen with a hastily scrawled 'sup kissyface' brought a smirk to her features.

She swayed outside of his door on her heels and then knocked twice, sharply, before sliding her hands back into the pockets of her tightly fastened ankle length sweater coat. From beneath her legs were bare in silk slippers, and her chest and collarbone were exposed. She wore her hair in a loose tail at the nape of her neck, and her makeup was smudged, having been applied almost twelve hours before.

( You named it Kissyface? )