(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.
Mid-April, 2006, Lower Manhattan
Apr. 23rd, 2008 07:49 pmHer name is Emma. She has to ( remember that. )
(no subject)
Feb. 8th, 2008 12:31 amIt's not worth the effort, at this point, to make herself firmly visible.
Instead, Meg concentrates on making her voice as loud and solid and present as possible as she zips through the building, ignoring such petty obstacles as walls and floors and extremely surprised lawyers and mentally checking off sites of battle: "All out! Everybody out!" she shouts to Wells and Spoon, and "They're coming down, get ready!" to Buffy and the others in the lobby, and "We're all done, it's time to go!" to River and Spike, and "Find the others, get out now!" to Harth and Mel, and then back to the first group again, as fast as she can.
Everyone has to hear.
Instead, Meg concentrates on making her voice as loud and solid and present as possible as she zips through the building, ignoring such petty obstacles as walls and floors and extremely surprised lawyers and mentally checking off sites of battle: "All out! Everybody out!" she shouts to Wells and Spoon, and "They're coming down, get ready!" to Buffy and the others in the lobby, and "We're all done, it's time to go!" to River and Spike, and "Find the others, get out now!" to Harth and Mel, and then back to the first group again, as fast as she can.
Everyone has to hear.
(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.
(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 Late-Night Liaison
May. 20th, 2007 11:16 pmThe Warehouse (Angel's HQ)
May 27, 2005, 11:30pm
The van pulls up into its regular spot (the one protected by a low-level Do Not Notice Me spell, courtesy of Jonathan). Doors open and slam shut again, and five figures collect on the curb and start up the sidewalk for home, with the easy relaxed walk of a good night's work done.
It's Spike who first notices, and points to alert the others: there are lights on inside the building.
"Just because you don't pay the power bill," Gunn mutters.
"Wasn't me, mate," Spike returns, a little louder.
Angel raises a hand for silence, staring intently at the dim light in the window. There's a shadow moving inside.
May 27, 2005, 11:30pm
The van pulls up into its regular spot (the one protected by a low-level Do Not Notice Me spell, courtesy of Jonathan). Doors open and slam shut again, and five figures collect on the curb and start up the sidewalk for home, with the easy relaxed walk of a good night's work done.
It's Spike who first notices, and points to alert the others: there are lights on inside the building.
"Just because you don't pay the power bill," Gunn mutters.
"Wasn't me, mate," Spike returns, a little louder.
Angel raises a hand for silence, staring intently at the dim light in the window. There's a shadow moving inside.