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(no subject)
Nov. 1st, 2009 04:05 pmThere's no question of guilt. In either case. Only of ( sentence... )
(no subject)
Jul. 5th, 2009 10:39 amIt's a plain room, more like a hostel room than a cell, except the only furniture is a bed – the chest of drawers and the night table have been moved out. No window. There's a tiny bathroom with a toilet and a sink but no shower; the bathroom door's been taken off its hinges and out of the room.
There are two Slayers on guard outside.
(There's also, though nobody in or near the room has any reason to know it, a mystic surveillance system set up. This conversation will not be private.)
There are two Slayers on guard outside.
(There's also, though nobody in or near the room has any reason to know it, a mystic surveillance system set up. This conversation will not be private.)
(no subject)
Jun. 20th, 2009 08:41 pmHer duffelbag is heavier than it should be, as she moves out through the AirTrain lobby and onto the street. She feels slower than before. Weaker.
She feels light enough to spread her arms and soar up into the sky.
The number's still in her cellphone's immediate memory; it's the last number she called.
"Hello?"
She feels light enough to spread her arms and soar up into the sky.
The number's still in her cellphone's immediate memory; it's the last number she called.
"Hello?"
(no subject)
Jun. 14th, 2009 11:33 amIt's not a ( trial. )
He's left to cool his heels outside afterwards, for about fifteen minutes. No sound at all emerges from the room -- and no psychic aura either, if he's listening for one.
The door opens, and closes again very quickly behind the person who's slipped through.
It's Andrew.
He's left to cool his heels outside afterwards, for about fifteen minutes. No sound at all emerges from the room -- and no psychic aura either, if he's listening for one.
The door opens, and closes again very quickly behind the person who's slipped through.
It's Andrew.
(no subject)
May. 6th, 2009 01:54 pmIn the apartment, Beth sits huddled in an armchair that feels far too big for her, clasps her hands tightly in her lap and tries to stop shivering.
"I know them," she says, her voice hollow.
"I know them," she says, her voice hollow.
(no subject)
Mar. 15th, 2009 06:26 pmFebruary 14th, 2007
Manhattan
Nobody on the street (not even the beat cop on the corner) seems to notice anything odd about the fact that very well-dressed people, singly or in pairs or larger groups, have been walking into the closed-for-repairs underground parking garage and not walking out. Nor do they notice anything odd about the people in question, even those whose faces don't appear remotely human.
As with one particular group, centered around a tall figure with a lionlike face.
Angel has drawn the line at wearing the House Varadeem livery, but each of them sports a badge of sorts with Vayan's sigil -- the same intricate pattern on the ring Angel's already wearing. It doesn't make them blend in with the Rrhayaowr, even the human-looking ones, but it makes certain matters clear to the others waiting in line. There's already delighted gossip making its way through the crowd, glances and whispers.
They've learned the club's name by this time, and it's making the oldest members of the team very uneasy. There's a muttered explanation while they wait, kept vague against the sharp ears of the rest of their party. Aequitas: the Latin word for justice. It's just a little too close for comfort to another place they knew once, with a name meaning mercy.
Probably just a coincidence.
The heavy doors at the far end of the lot are just opening, and two big burly demons taking up positions to either side. A ripple goes through the assembled beings, and the line starts to slide forward like (Andrew tries not to think it) like a snake.
Manhattan
Nobody on the street (not even the beat cop on the corner) seems to notice anything odd about the fact that very well-dressed people, singly or in pairs or larger groups, have been walking into the closed-for-repairs underground parking garage and not walking out. Nor do they notice anything odd about the people in question, even those whose faces don't appear remotely human.
As with one particular group, centered around a tall figure with a lionlike face.
Angel has drawn the line at wearing the House Varadeem livery, but each of them sports a badge of sorts with Vayan's sigil -- the same intricate pattern on the ring Angel's already wearing. It doesn't make them blend in with the Rrhayaowr, even the human-looking ones, but it makes certain matters clear to the others waiting in line. There's already delighted gossip making its way through the crowd, glances and whispers.
They've learned the club's name by this time, and it's making the oldest members of the team very uneasy. There's a muttered explanation while they wait, kept vague against the sharp ears of the rest of their party. Aequitas: the Latin word for justice. It's just a little too close for comfort to another place they knew once, with a name meaning mercy.
Probably just a coincidence.
The heavy doors at the far end of the lot are just opening, and two big burly demons taking up positions to either side. A ripple goes through the assembled beings, and the line starts to slide forward like (Andrew tries not to think it) like a snake.
Tags:
- aequitas,
- andrew,
- angel,
- beth lehrer,
- doc,
- gunn,
- house varadeem,
- lorne,
- nyc,
- spike
(no subject)
Oct. 5th, 2008 04:52 pmJust keep an eye on that card every now and then, he said. You'll know where to go when the time's right.
Beth's entirely aware that probably means it's magic. Which means there's any number of other things it could be doing. Which means she seriously considers not taking it home with her, in case it could be used to track her -- but the only other place she could keep it is at the shelter, and she won't do that. It'd endanger everybody else there, the ones who come in for food, the ones who work there, Peter --
She won't, that's all.
So she sticks it to the fridge with the same magnet Spike left for her back in May, and that's where it is the Monday after Thanksgiving, when she sees that it's changed. There's an address there now, in that same elegant typeface, like it's been there all along.
Aequitas. She's looked it up. Latin for justice.
It's with a certain sense of fatalism that she steps off the bus a block from the address on the card, five days later, and walks toward the building.
(It's also with the same black wig she wore that night, as a sole concession to paranoia.)
Beth's entirely aware that probably means it's magic. Which means there's any number of other things it could be doing. Which means she seriously considers not taking it home with her, in case it could be used to track her -- but the only other place she could keep it is at the shelter, and she won't do that. It'd endanger everybody else there, the ones who come in for food, the ones who work there, Peter --
She won't, that's all.
So she sticks it to the fridge with the same magnet Spike left for her back in May, and that's where it is the Monday after Thanksgiving, when she sees that it's changed. There's an address there now, in that same elegant typeface, like it's been there all along.
Aequitas. She's looked it up. Latin for justice.
It's with a certain sense of fatalism that she steps off the bus a block from the address on the card, five days later, and walks toward the building.
(It's also with the same black wig she wore that night, as a sole concession to paranoia.)
Mid-April, 2006, Lower Manhattan
Apr. 23rd, 2008 07:49 pmHer name is Emma. She has to ( remember that. )
(no subject)
Jan. 11th, 2008 01:22 pmIt's a bigger room, this time. The better to fit two dozen zhirelin in addition to the sorcerers themselves.
The conference room setup this time is much hastier, at Emma's orders. The table's been upended against the wall instead of removed entirely; the blood in the spell diagram is still tacky. Everything's in place, including the two most vital components: the real Kshaartian mandrake, and the Scythe.
Emma's trying hard not to pace as the two red-robed apprentices bend to light the first candles, as the priests in their darker robes begin chanting.
We're in the homestretch. Go. Go. Go.
The conference room setup this time is much hastier, at Emma's orders. The table's been upended against the wall instead of removed entirely; the blood in the spell diagram is still tacky. Everything's in place, including the two most vital components: the real Kshaartian mandrake, and the Scythe.
Emma's trying hard not to pace as the two red-robed apprentices bend to light the first candles, as the priests in their darker robes begin chanting.
We're in the homestretch. Go. Go. Go.
(no subject)
Dec. 22nd, 2007 11:29 pmIt's five-thirty at the offices of Wolfram & Hart New York, and the regular workday is winding down.
Some people, of course, don't leave till much later, even under ordinary circumstances.
Which these are decidedly not.
"I'll need as many of you on guard as I can get." Emma's walking fast as she speaks, coming down the hall from her office, her heels clicking on the hallway floor. Brianna, soft-footed in sneakers and carrying an incongruous guitar case, keeps pace on her right; a handful of others trail in her wake. "All of you, ideally. Start calling now, and let's see if we can get everyone in by eight, start things rolling by nine -- Ajani?"
Some people, of course, don't leave till much later, even under ordinary circumstances.
Which these are decidedly not.
"I'll need as many of you on guard as I can get." Emma's walking fast as she speaks, coming down the hall from her office, her heels clicking on the hallway floor. Brianna, soft-footed in sneakers and carrying an incongruous guitar case, keeps pace on her right; a handful of others trail in her wake. "All of you, ideally. Start calling now, and let's see if we can get everyone in by eight, start things rolling by nine -- Ajani?"
(no subject)
Dec. 22nd, 2007 12:25 pmBeth's fingers twist together between her knees. ( This isn't working for me. )
(no subject)
Dec. 21st, 2007 02:30 amThe Slayers' Academy, formerly the Watchers' Academy, has always had magical protection of various kinds, spells of ward and guard, some passively preventative, some dangerous or even lethal if triggered. It's only in relatively recent years that these have been supplemented with an additional level of protection, in the form of a state-of-the-art electronic security system.
The sorcerous and the technological protection share one profound flaw: they are both designed primarily to prevent intrusion from ( outside. )
( ----- )
The sorcerous and the technological protection share one profound flaw: they are both designed primarily to prevent intrusion from ( outside. )
( ----- )
(no subject)
Dec. 13th, 2007 01:12 amA 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.
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.
Tags:
(no subject)
Jun. 4th, 2007 11:48 pmThe Warehouse (Angel's HQ)
June 9, 2005, 8:30pm
When your boss is nocturnal and so is most of your clientele, the working day tends to start shortly after sunset.
It's not quite dark yet. This is a slow time of day, the gradual easing into work mode: finishing breakfast/dinner, sharpening weapons, talking out plans for the rest of the night.
There's a knock at the door.
June 9, 2005, 8:30pm
When your boss is nocturnal and so is most of your clientele, the working day tends to start shortly after sunset.
It's not quite dark yet. This is a slow time of day, the gradual easing into work mode: finishing breakfast/dinner, sharpening weapons, talking out plans for the rest of the night.
There's a knock at the door.
A Morning Meeting
Apr. 29th, 2007 08:06 pmMidtown
Offices of Wolfram & Hart
May 26, 2005, 10:30am
Beth looks around the elegant office lobby uneasily, sidestepping a trio in business suits (two men, one woman) hurrying past her toward the elevator at the rear, as Brianna leads her toward the security desk. "Hey, Alan," she says cheerfully.
"Morning, Ms. Walden," says the uniformed young man behind the desk with a pleasant smile. "Signing in a guest?"
"Yeah. It's on B Clearance. Emma wants to meet her." Brianna says it casually enough, but Alan's eyebrows go up and he looks at Beth with a shade more respect.
"Very good. Could you please sign your name here?" He hands Beth a pen, and adds "And just fill in by invitation under Purpose of Visit."
Offices of Wolfram & Hart
May 26, 2005, 10:30am
Beth looks around the elegant office lobby uneasily, sidestepping a trio in business suits (two men, one woman) hurrying past her toward the elevator at the rear, as Brianna leads her toward the security desk. "Hey, Alan," she says cheerfully.
"Morning, Ms. Walden," says the uniformed young man behind the desk with a pleasant smile. "Signing in a guest?"
"Yeah. It's on B Clearance. Emma wants to meet her." Brianna says it casually enough, but Alan's eyebrows go up and he looks at Beth with a shade more respect.
"Very good. Could you please sign your name here?" He hands Beth a pen, and adds "And just fill in by invitation under Purpose of Visit."
