sunnydalealum | (no subject)

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(no subject)

A door to elsewhere has opened in the heart of Wolfram & Hart's stronghold, and it's letting in one hell of a draft.

The security guards are discovering, right about now, that their internal alarm system isn't working. And neither are their walkie-talkies. Or anybody's cellphone.

It's really kind of impressive how well they're rallying in the absence of any contact with each other or their own command.

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Uncertain silence from the two zhirelin.

"Maybe," Juliet says tentatively after a moment, "maybe she meant there's only one that the Council was using."

"Bet that's it," Mel agrees easily. "Council're a bunch of pyromanic lunatics don't know the first thing about us. If that's where she's getting all her information..."

Shrug.

Exchange of glances.

Silence.

Blink.

"What'd I say?"

"Sounded reasonable t'me," says Harth, with an air of considering her words.

It's totally true... in their time, at least.

"She can't be getting all her information from the Council," says Amy doubtfully, "because she says most of what they say is superstition and propaganda."

Mel opens her mouth, and shuts it again, shrugging.

"As long as none of that's going on here," she allows.

"Probably a breakdown in communication, or something," Harth puts in. "Seems t'be a breakdown in just about everything else."

Scythe, Scythes, easily misheard.

"So, um ... where did you get yours?"

Amy's looking at the Scythe with poorly concealed longing, right now.

"Some demon in New York."

Mel rocks at telling the truth. She should get some sort of prize.

"Didn't do him much good, though. I used it to kill him."

Yes, Mel, very good.

"That's m'sister. Always grateful for what she recieves."

Harth will get her flowers when they get back. Oh, wait. That's creepy.

"What'd you kill him for?" The note in Amy's voice isn't shock exactly, but it's definitely got overtones of distaste.

Mel's smile fades, and she looks directly at Amy, not at Harth at all.

"He killed a friend of mine."

Hey, Harth had nothing to do with that.

Astoundingly.

He studiously says nothing, just makes sure he looks suitably serious. Mel would destroy him right here if he mocked the dead kid, even if it blew their cover.

"Good reason," Juliet mutters.

And a touch louder, "That's it for this floor. Think we should go back up?"

Mel shrugs.

"Guess so," she admits, but this time she glances sideways at Harth.

She doesn't want these two in the fight.

"Might want t'step careful," Harth says, although he nods. "Whatever's goin' on, it's not pretty in places." He tugs on the neck of his shirt where the stake had torn over the skin of his shoulder.

"There was some crazy girl with guns and a sword."

It's rocketship. Also? An attempted heads-up to Mel that he's fairly sure River and Spike are not too far up there.

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