We watch.

summaries through jan. 25

Sat, 26 Jan 2008 01:04:47 GMT

Edward kisses the lead singer of Concrete Blonde, Dawn catches his eye, and virginity is a memory for them both. (NC-17)

Carr phones home.
Edward traumatizes the shit out of Bella.

Alice returns to Sunnydale to kick her brother in the jaw. On her way, she forgets to wear her seatbelt and flies into Chris. Whoops.

Lindsey and Phaedra test the post-apocalyptic canoodling waters.

For once, Tara's the one acting normal. Bad Willow. Bad Buffy.

Spike gets over his fear of reciting poetry in public, and with Bella's help, realizes he's acting waaaaaaaaaay funny.

Chris meets a cute lil' hunter... that could kill him in under five seconds. Provided there's a shotgun somewhere around here.

Xander says no more mister nice zeppo and makes Anya angry. Rawr.

Pryce. Wesley Wyndham Pryce. O_o

Eric has gotten ...cute? Oh, God, help... Kate's taking advantage.

Dietre and Marius meet and talk about David.

Faith Lehane. Feinting. I never thought I'd see the day. Dean has no idea what's going on.

as the day grows dim (gj posting date: 09.18.07)

Thu, 10 Jan 2008 19:50:35 GMT

It was more than a little disconcerting that while in Bella's company Edward's eyes had bled back to onyx. If he didn't work on his self-control, and fast, Sunnydale and the Cullen family were going to be at serious odds.

He'd excused himself from Tunes, hopped into the Volvo, and driven out of town, the opposite direction from what was now home. There was a smattering of forest--small, here, Alice was right as usual and anything worth hunting would be a longer drive-- and he'd found a few deer. One was all he really needed, though.

Like shooting fish.

Eyes back to topaz, or at least much closer to it than they had been when he'd left the music shop, Edward drove back. He smiled to himself-- he hadn't even told Bella most of the idea he had. Only the part where he got out of there for an hour and let her not get fired. Only the part where he bailed himself out of what could amount to serious trouble.

How was it possible, he wondered, for two people in the same town to have their minds closed off to him? He understood about Dawn's blood; it was different, and that was why he was drawn to it. That and the raw hunger he'd felt. But Bella...

... Bella could make him fall off the wagon. Over and over. And get crushed by the wheels as the wagon ran him over.

He pulled into the same parking space he'd been in before, noting with amusement that night was falling. It would be dark, very soon.

Edward opened the door to the shop, listened to the bell ring, and smiled at Bella, who stood behind the counter. Immediately, he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, and his smile widened, no teeth showing.

"Time's up," he said.

They say when you preoccupy yourself, times goes faster.

That was bull.

The last half hour had been at an unnatural crawl.

Since Edward had left to her to die (not literally, of course) of curiosity, her mind was on nothing but Edward. Excitement sheathed her. Another vampire walking into her life. That was one thing she hadn't been expecting. Or not - well, walking. Attacking, maybe. Wasn't that the vampire way?

She hadn't been as nearly helpful as she could've been with the customers who had disrupted she and Edward. Even when that same guy with the inappropriate thoughts that had been overboard with the staring and the compliments, she didn't even seem to take much notice to it.

Bella would've been flustered with frustration had she not been miles away in thought. She really couldn't stand being 'hit on'.

Even listening to the Fire Arcade hadn't been much of a distraction.

So she'd blared the headphones, to drown out any thought circulation, focusing on the rhythm and still, he was there, dwelling, both welcomed and unwelcomed, in her mind. Bronze haired and onyx eyed. Or topaz. They were the most hypnotizing aspects about the vampire, she'd told herself. When she'd first stared into them, time had seemed petty and insignificant. She could, to be honest, drown in those two jem-like irises. Irresistible? Maybe just.. completely.

He was a dazzler and she was his victim to dazzle.

Somehow, between rewinding Wake Up some five times, it had rubbed off on her. Unfortunately, she'd had to set it aside, in return for shutting down the shop. Leaving few lights on, switching 'open' to 'closed', and leaving food for the cat to survive, ect ect.

Chocolate eyes cast a glance toward the awaiting door, still silent, and the doe brown brightened. The bell that could get quite annoying, she'd heard, echoed through the open, dimmed area, paving entrance for Edward.

"Sorry, I forgot a timer." She waving the album teasingly, replying with a smile herself, "You just came back for this, didn't you?"

He'd kind of hoped there'd be someone else there.

Edward wanted to know what she'd been doing without asking her. Skimming the surface of other people's minds would've been a big help. No such luck.

It was darker in here, now, but that didn't matter much to someone with senses that were off the human charts. He arched an eyebrow at Bella.

"You opened it," he said, clearly pleased. Edward came all the way into the store, now, glad to have a reason to do it, even if he had designs on getting them both out of here. He smiled again. "What did you think?"

He wasn't rude enough to snatch the disc out of Bella's hand, especially if she'd enjoyed it.

Eyes that were lighter now danced happily over the young girl's face, waiting for an answer. Then he caught himself, and composed himself a little bit, hands digging into the pockets of dark jeans.

"Not just for that, Bella," Edward said. "We had a deal. And I still have an idea."

Exactly the moment he stepped into the lighting, she noticed his lighter eyes. The gold had returned, like it had never been tarnished. And the bags that had previously been under his eyes - were still there, but not nearly as striking.

He seemed.. flushed with a tint of color.

"It's.. nice." Mostly because it reminded her of him and, therefore, it already had been opted for a plus in her book.

Nothing could protect her from the obsession she was forming for Edward. Especially not he himself and the sequence of events unfolding.

A shoulder jutted into a shrug, shifting around the counter and outstretching the album toward the vampire in a gesture to bestow it. "I bought it for you." Should he not take it the way she intended - she herself, well, gifts didn't settle well with her - she hurried in, "It's a thanks, I suppose. For being a behaving lion."

The smile that stretched her lips vanished as soon as it began to draw her teeth into the picture. Shock wrote itself broad across the police chief's daughter.

"I thought we were over ideas."

Edward smiled and nodded. Nervousness was creeping off of Bella in waves; he wasn't going to push conversation about music right now, even if it was something he loved.

The smile turned into something like awe, or surprise. "You..." Were Edward capable, he'd be blushing. "Thank you very much. You certainly didn't have to do that."

Although it did kind of even the score, he thought to himself, repressing a grin. He had something to give her, too.

He took the disc, smiling, and managed not to laugh.

"It's okay, Bella," he said. "Just a change of location, if you don't mind. You're closed now, correct? And we both wanted to talk more, I think."

He gave her a smile, one that could have warmed the darkest heart. "I'm on my best behavior, as a lion."

but the key is a question of control (gj posting date: 09.16.07)

Thu, 10 Jan 2008 18:38:03 GMT

Bella Swan was trying her damnest to fit into Sunnydale, California. The middle of nowhere, where when they said sunny, they meant sunny. She'd happily accepted that.

She'd made friends. Few of them, who were mostly what you call acquaintances that mooched off whatever attention was still tacked onto her. Had she been the new girl in Phoenix, the attention would've been insignificant and too small to be bothered with (though she would've blushed the whole way through it, anyway).

Sunnydale didn't work that way.

In fact, it didn't work many ways that were normal.

Forks had been her own personal hell, but Sunnydale was really the mouth of hell.

Joy.

No matter how many superficial things she tried to preoccupy herself with - necessities such as homework and what she should prepare for dinner - Bella's mind was always drawn to that. She'd been right to word in her thoughts that she wouldn't be able to sleep the very night she'd met Spike and the incident that led her to believing what she hadn't thought possible. Even popping a Tylenol wouldn't have deter her mind. It hadn't, for that matter.

They say your daily life has an impact on your dreams. Or, to be more specific, this would be a nightmare. Only she wasn't afraid of what lurked in the black blanket the shadows cast. Not nearly as much as she should've been. She dreamt of the things that shouldn't be real but were, waking up drenched in a cold sweat.

Her confidence in witches, vampires, and whatever else were solid. Things that go bump in the night were real. And she, well.. she was just bait. She didn't belong to that world. She was just Bella. Normal Bella whose proneness to tripping was triple more than the average human being's.

And so Bella did what a normal teenager would do - got a job. There were things she refused Charlie to allow to pay for. Things that included her truck. And so, here she was in, caught in the vast displays of a music store. It was her third day on the job and there wasn't another word to dub this day except slow. Slow. Slow. Slow. The customers had been sparing the hours she'd been on and it was only an hour until she was off.

Propping her chin onto the counter, she grumbled her disrelish, brown eyes only popping open when the door's bell ringed an arrival.

Alice would be the first to tell you... Edward's music collection was impressive.

It lined the walls of the house in Forks, and in Sunnydale, it was the same. He could play the piano, quite well, and was known to compose at hours humans would find ungodly.

The titles of the CD collected ranged from Debussy and Gershwin to Nine Inch Nails and Linkin Park. If there was ever a creature who loved--breathed-- music, it was Edward Cullen.

Today was Saturday, and cloudy enough, late enough in the afternoon, that the vampire could safely go out without attracting too much attention to himself (by that, read: any attention beyond that garnered on looks alone).

He'd been looking for something, all day, and realized with a pang of irriatation that he'd left a favorite album at home, in Forks. Alice was already on her way, and he wasn't sure exactly when the rest of the Cullens would be getting to town.

So he got in the volvo, drove to Sunnydale, and sought the disc. There was a store on South Main that he'd overheard thoughts about, owned by a local guy and his wife, both of them young. They let their cat have free reign in the store.

This Edward had to see.

He parked the car and opened the door to Tunes, eyebrows raising as the bell rang and the famous cat put her head up. Edward smiled.

Unlike the majority of teenagers her age who would die without music, Bella couldn't give one way or another. She hadn't grown up on it. Plus, she couldn't dance to save her life. Which could possibly be needed someday.

Only time could tell.

It'd been this or stocking the grocery store. As was apparent, she took the former. And it paid suitably.

The bad thing about working Tunes that were so many racks to fall over.

So. Many.

She'd been scrambling to amble around the counter, without breaking anything or any of herself, when her eyes reattracted to the hopefully buying customer she could persuade into a purchase. The moment they did, all coherence was beyond reach. She could say her goodbyes to thought process in that one moment. There was nothing that could explain the power he had over her. Handsome didn't do him justice, from his mussed hair to his boyish appeal. She'd even go as far as to say he was transcendental.

And completely unfair.

As quickly as she could manage to compose herself, her brown eyes widened. Disheveled, a blush stained her cheeks. "W-" Instead of stumbling over something, she stumbled over her words. Clearing her throat, her cheeks their darkest, she halted a distance in front of him.

"Welcome to Tunes. May I be of assistance?"

Edward's eyes followed the cat before anything else. It was exceptionally fluffy, and sat itself down on top of the discs in the country music section without so much as a second glance at him.

Edward blinked as he walked in, almost as if to clear his senses.

This could not be happening AGAIN.

He could feel it, everywhere. All over. But mostly, he could smell it.

The scent was so sweet it was intoxicating. He shut his eyes momentarily, savoring it and just trying to get a grip on himself. He could not--would not-- have a repeat of what happened with Dawn. Biting people was not an option, and he felt a fresh pang a of guilt just at the memory.

He opened his eyes and focused them on the girl who was addressing him, the dark-haired girl with the flush in her cheeks that was driving him right over the line.

This wasn't possible, what were the odds of this happening twice?! But this seemed... stronger. There was no undercurrent here. This was one hundred percent human.

He smiled gently at the girl, that half-smile like a smirk, and quickly let his eyes dance over her.

She had... buttons... pinned to her, on a lanyard around her neck. Buttons with logos of different bands and artists. Nine Inch Nails, A Perfect Circle, Nirvana... a few other bands he didn't recognize or know well enough to notice the logos.

Edward bit his lower lip. "Sure," he said, voice even despite the tumult inside his head. "I'm looking for something..." He sighed and ran a hand through his already touseled hair. "There's a band called The Arcade Fire," he began, looking at the girl hopefully.

Bella was blissfully unaware that he was at all attracted to her, blood-wise. It would come as a shock.

But him not being human wouldn't surprise her. Not with those God-like features that knocked the breath out of her.

Speaking of God-like qualities and not being able to breathe..

Head tilted downward, fanning brown hair in front of her. It was out of habit and she had no idea it would make temptation even worse if she moved, freshening her scent. His crooked somewhat-smirk made it even harder to keep from glowing rose-like. Her eyes found the crevices of the ground much more promising than she had previously, glancing up once or twice in the meantime.

Really fascinating how the carpet was a color of light blue.

Was she not convincing enough?

She scolded herself for her embarrassment. This was her job and she wasn't doing much good at being helpful.

Her chin finally lifted at his recommendation, the pair of chocolate eyes still round, like she was somewhat shocked. "I can try to find them," she nodded an unneeded two times, before pivoting on her foot, her hair whipping with the movement.

She was lucky that the bands were in an alphabetic order, grouped with their genre.

She was also lucky if Edward didn't drain her dry on the spot.

She was blushing more.

How in the name of GOD was that possible? Edward's right hand became a fist, and he hoped she didn't notice. It was taking a huge effort on his part not to reach out and touch the girl's cheek.

He watched her face carefully as she studied her feet, and wondered why he was getting none of her thoughts.

Oh, not again with this, too!!!

He grinned at her, without realizing, and followed her as she moved.

As if he had a choice.
As if someone who smelled the way she did and had thoughts secreted away would not be followed.

Sunnydale was maddening. How did anyone stand it here?!

"I can help you," he said, the grin fading back to that crooked smile. "See, it's one of my favorites, and I just got here. I left it somewhere and I don't know where, and it's honestly making me crazy."

He laughed once, aware that he was babbling to hide the overt fascination he had with this girl.

"Alternative," he said. "We should start there."

She did notice the hand balled into a clenched fist. How could she not? It was hard not to notice every aspect about him.

Instead of assuming it was to control himself - because, face it, her blood humming to him wasn't the first thing that came to mind - Bella played it down that her struggling not to stare was difficult to watch, like watching an actor forgetting their lines on stage.

He was probably embarrassed for her. He wouldn't be the first.

"You just got here?" she exhaled the words wispy, rolling her tongue across her chapped lips to dampen them before pressing them together. "As in Sunnydale?"

As she shifted into the Alternative section, she sent him several glimpses as she shuffled through albums. Concentrating on band names was nowhere as easy it had been before he'd walked into the store.

This mystery boy, looking somewhere around seventeen, whose name had not reached his tongue must have known how attractive he was.

Her mind flew to the fact she had forgotten to say her own name somewhere along the way when she'd been trying to avoid eye contact.

"I'm Bella," she stated lamely, ducking her head yet again, trying to look like she was focusing on bands when she was anything but.

Edward nodded, watching her, fighting the urge to shut his eyes tightly or just run out of the store. He would not repeat what had happened to Dawn.

Though, granted, this time he wasn't absolutely starving. He hadn't been stupid enough to replicate that set of circumstances.

He squinted, eyes following the girls hands as they leafed through rows of cds. Her hands were small and pale, and he could see the veins in the backs. That meant he could follow the blood through them...

He bit his lower lip again.

"As in Sunnydale," he said.

"Bella," he repeated, liking the sound. Edward smiled. "I'm Edward."

Bella didn't wish to smell that good. Really, she didn't ask for it.

Nor did she wish to be transparently pale. She was on the out when it came to inheriting pigment. He was one of the few she'd met that was whiter than she, ghostly even.

Aside from Spike.

Her eyes sharply lifted, quirking a frown on her lips. Okay, no. Her mind was running wild. She was going to accuse anyone she saw who didn't tan to be a vampire.

"You're in for some surprises then," she muttered to herself, rather than him.

How was she to know he was exactly what made it so surprising?

She tried to stable a casualness, tried and failed to remove the red that was slowly decreasing to a pink. How were you supposed to make conversation with him without gawking?

A question unanswered.

She'd just have to be brave - when did that add to her make up? - and see.

"I moved here a week ago," it came out a bit of a rush, "From Phoenix to live with my father. He's police chief -- and I came, I saw, I.. am too busy with highschool to conquer?"

She merely flushed again when he addressed her and then replied with his alias.

Edward. It was fitting.

His eyebrow twitched upward. "Surprises? Really."

Huh. You mean other than the biting humans, finding out they weren't totally human, etc? Other than that?

He grinned. "Sunnydale High. Me too. What year are you, Bella?"

The police chief's daughter? Why was that familiar?

Edward's eyes darted through the A's on the rack, and he wandered a bit past Bella, brushing past her a bit too absently to see if 'The' counted in the title, or if instead of alternative he should be looking under 'rock.'

The brush brought a heavy jolt with it. Edward stopped breathing.

wake me up when september ends (gj posting date- 09.08.07)

Thu, 10 Jan 2008 18:07:31 GMT

High school wasn't fun the eighth time around.

Edward was scowling, and he wasn't even through the day yet.

But this was a favor, a favor for Carlisle. Go to Sunnydale. Feel it out. Jasper is in no condition for it, Alice won't leave without him, Carlisle can't leave his job, and so on. Edward didn't care where his senior year (the eighth one) was, just that he had to endure it.

He felt it as soon as he got out of the car, as soon as he pulled it up to the big house Dr. Cullen had gotten for the family who would, he assured his son, be joining him. This whole place was a ripple of otherworldly power. He felt it in his chest.

And there was a staggering lack of things to hunt.

He hadn't planned on going to his first day of classes on edge and hungry, it had just worked out that way. His eyes had almost completely bled to black when he took his seat in advanced placement English, fifth period.

Outside, it was overcast. Thank heaven for smog. And there was a big chance of rain, so there was no hiding it. Besides, Carlisle would call and check, and Edward hated lying to him.

"Alright," the teacher said, writing on the blackboard. Over 90 years and they still had blackboards. Edward smirked, an uneven smile, hair falling into his eyes, and slouched a little in his chair. The seat next to him was open.

"First, welcome to Sunnydale High, seniors," the teacher said. "We're not going to do anything big today..."

Edward lowered his eyes, fiddling with the pen in his hand, clicking it. His restraint was in check, for now. He flipped open a spiral notebook and feigned attention.

Of course, they couldn't have built the new high school any faster. They had to let the ruins of the old one sit on the Hellmouth for a few years, and then get it done just in time for - ta da! - Dawn's senior year. She already had trouble making it to class on time. Navigating a big, shiny, state of the art high school campus wasn't going to make things any easier.

She skidded to a stop outside of the classroom, double-checking the number on the door with the number of the slip of paper in her hand. The only thing more embarassing than walking in late was walking in late into the wrong room. Luckily, the numbers matched, so Dawn opened the door and slipped inside. She gave an embarassed little smile to her classmates and slunk to the only open chair that she noticed, near the back. Silently, she slid into the chair and pushed back her hair, only to realize that the teacher was already talking. She pulled out a notebook and was about to rummage in her bag for a pen when she noticed the big blue stain on the cover. And all over her fingers.

Great.

"Hey, do you have a pen I can-" she began in a whisper, turning to the person next to her. Who was definitely not one of her old classmates. "-er. Borrow?"

Edward was focused pretty much on doodling on the notebook paper, catching bits here and there on the projected reading list. Shakespeare, no surprise there. Whitman. Yeats. And how many term papers had he written in his life?

His eyes shone, and he caught the first of what he knew would be many stray thoughts.

Oh, great. I just *love* Dawn Summers. Did she have to be in this class?

It came from a girl seated near the door, who had been focusing her attention out the small paned glass window in the center of it. The door swung inward, and in came a prettier girl with bright eyes, looking more than a bit harried.

Edward sat up, crossing his arms on the desk, eyes following the new girl. Dawn.

Well, wasn't that ironic.

The teacher shook his head at her as she took the available seat--next to him. Then he kept on talking. Dawn fumbled for something, and Edward wrinkled his nose. Ink. He didn't even have to look right at her.

But there was something else. It was sweet, and it was thick, and he had to fight with himself not to reach over and grab the girl by the throat. Edward heard her question, and without nodding, he took a second pen out of his pocket and held it up to her, waiting for her to take it. He didn't speak.

This was going to be so, so bad. His left hand was in a fist under the desk.

The new guy - Dawn assumed he was the new guy, she'd never seen him before and if nothing else, at least she was observant - barely even looked at her, didn't even acknowledge her request except to hold out a spare pen. Well, fine. As long as she had something to take notes with.

"Thanks," she breathed, reaching out to take it from him. The teacher paused for a fraction of a second, his eyes resting on Dawn, and she flushed, her hand straying slightly off course and brushing against the new guy's. She hoped he wouldn't say anything. That's the last thing she needed, having more attention called to her. God, could this day get any worse?

Seconds stretched into minutes for him, but they were just seconds to everyone else.

Hannah, aka the girl near the door, was watching him closely. And her.

You're kidding me. The new hot guy is watching HER?!

Two things happened at exactly the same time for Edward. Dawn blushed, and he inhaled deeply. Mistake. The smell of her absolutely assaulted him. He blinked, and she reached out and took the pen.

Dawn's skin touched his, and Hannah's thoughts became jealous. But Edward ripped his hand back as if he'd been burned.

He should've tried harder, he thought to himself. He should've hunted. Should've gone out of the area to do it. And now...

... now gripped the desk with his left hand, pen back in his right, watching Dawn out of the corner of his eye. He couldn't do anything.

The teacher started actually taking roll call. Antiquated and stupid practice. And not enough kids for it to mean anything. It'd take him a few minutes to get to 'C,' happily. He had a few minutes to get himself under control before he had to speak.

A few seats to the right of Dawn, in her line of sight, sat Janice, smiling.

Oh my GOD. They just don't make them like that around here....

And they were at 'C.' Here it came....

"Edward Cullen?"

Edward swallowed. "Yes," he said, voice very rough.

The teacher kept calling names, and Janice whispered very loudly at Dawn...

"Edward Cullen," she said, "is staring at you."

Edward Cullen.

The name rang in Dawn's ears. Why? He was just some new kid who thought he was too cool to even look at her, much less talk to her or anything. It's like these people had a popularity radar. And the way he'd jerked back to avoid touching her. God, she didn't smell or anything, how rude. She rolled her eyes at Janice, who was sitting a few seats away, but Janice was looking past her, then to her, with a strange look on her face. She learned forward, her eyes glinting, looking excited.

"Edward Cullen is staring at you," she whispered loudly. Dawn's eyes went wide and she blushed hotly. God, didn't her friend have any tact? How freaking embarassing. Nope, Dawn didn't see herself moving up any notches in the popularity post this year.

"Shut up," she hissed back, fingers pressing against her cheeks to cover up the warm flush of her skin. But, like any normal high school girl, she was intrigued and couldn't resist risking a glance. Was he really? She had to know.

She glanced.

Edward's knuckles were turning white.

This class really, REALLY needed to end. And if it could rain, too, that'd be fantastic.

Dawn blushed again and Edward contemplated running out of the room, or jumping out the window. It was only the third floor. He'd be fine.

"Okay, fine," Janice muttered. Last time I fill you in on the lunchable new guy. Bite my head off why don't you.

Janice sighed loudly. Hannah was going ballistic. Edward wondered how he'd endured so many years filled with teenaged girls.

And now Dawn was looking at him. Big blue eyes met his, and Edward's nostrils flared. Very attractive, he thought to himself. Very not bull-like, you fucking idiot.

He bit his lip into his mouth and pressed down. Roll call was almost done. There was lunch after this. That meant the class might be shortened, since it was the first day....

... he hoped.

"Dawn Summers," the teacher said, looking right at her. It was her turn to speak, even if he already knew she was there.

Her hands were bluish, Edward saw, from the ink.

Their eyes met, and it was like Dawn couldn't look away. How cliche, she thought vaguely, another unrequited romance. Of course, she didn't actually like him, she didn't even know him and he was a jerk, anyway, he could barely let her borrow a pen, for crissakes. He was just... cute. And being a new student always gave a person a certain je ne sais quoi of intrigue. But it was all totally circumstantial.

Somewhere through the fog, she heard her name called. And again. "Yes," she said, not quite sure what she was agreeing to. It had only been a second, maybe two, but she felt like she'd been looking at Edward Cullen for hours. Maybe weeks. As she finally tore her gaze away, she realized that nobody was actually proposing anything - the teacher was calling the roll. "Yes, here," she said, raising her hand into the air, then remembering that it was blue. Silently cursing herself, she put her fingers in her mouth. If she was lucky, the ink would poison her.

Today sucked.

Edward didn't notice right now, but he wasn't getting anything from Dawn.

He was getting thoughts from every other girl in the room... but not Dawn.

He was, however, finding it incredibly difficult to tear his eyes from hers. And he wasn't blinking.

He wanted to smile at her 'yes,' at the way she wasn't blinking, either, at her stuffing her blue fingers in her mouth, but he couldn't do it. All he could do was grip the desk.

"Wonderful," the teacher said. There was a little bit of laughter, and he continued calling out names. At least, Edward thought, 'S' was near the end of the alphabet...

He got to Eric Zuckerman and Edward realized he was bouncing his leg.

"Okay, guys, I won't torture you," the teacher said. "I'll see you tomorrow. Please be on time," he said, looking pointedly at Dawn.

Yeah, puh-leeez. That was Hannah. She was oh so sweet.

"Enjoy lunch or wherever it is you people go when you're not here," the teacher said.

By the word 'go,' Edward was out of the desk, and by 'here,' he was in the hall, trying his best to forget the blue-eyed girl who'd been so focused on him and trying to plan a way out of Sunnydale and into some kind of forest. Did they have a forest??

He hoped. Or he was in some trouble.

His eyes bled to onyx.

Sinking a little lower in her seat, Dawn silently sucked at her fingertips, which, aside from tasting a little bitter, didn't seem to be poisoning her. Her lips were probably blue. She didn't think about that.

This class was going to be total torture, and she usually liked English. At least the teacher seemed sympathetic. Or at least easygoing.

It seemed like ages, although it was minutes, before they were released. And-woah. Dawn could've sworn that she got vertigo from the way Edward Cullen zipped past her on his way out. She whistled softly through her teeth, then felt someone grab her arm. Jumping, she turned, finding herself staring into Janice's dark, excited eyes.

"What about that new guy, huh?" she trilled, grinning. Dawn found herself smiling in return, although for a slightly different reason. Then she realized she was still holding something. A pen. His pen.

"Yeah. Look, I'll meet you in the cafeteria in a minute, okay? I just gotta, um, go to the bathroom." Janice only had time to nod, looking like she would burst if she didn't discuss every detail of the new boy's appearance and actions right this second. Smiling apologetically, Dawn darted out of the classroom and into the hallway. She could see Edward Cullen's dark head bobbing, at the end of the hallway. Why was he in such a hurry?

She ran after him, because even if he wasn't very nice and kind of odd, she was honest. Most of the time. Well, she didn't steal people's pens. "Hey," she called out when she was a few feet behind him, "you forgot your pen."

Mr. Healy seemed like he'd at least have an interesting class, but Edward was past of the point of politesse. Completely.

He'd have to apologize, at least to the teacher, he knew.

The hallway was horrible.

Everywhere, there were kids. So many. And he was hungry.

And the thoughts... he really began to think that the female population of Sunnydale needed to get their collective hormones in check. He wasn't so great that they should be thinking all these things.

...forgot your pen.

Edward stopped in his tracks. It was Dawn.

He didn't turn right away. He thought about his options for about ten seconds.

9. 8. 7. 6. 5. 4. 3....

Edward turned, practically glaring, and bit at his lower lip, black eyes dancing. Carlisle was going to kill him. The aftermath...

"Keep it," he said, voice like gravel.

He still couldn't quite bring himself to do what he knew he was going to have to. He arched an eyebrow, lowered it, and turned back around, pushing open the door to the stairwell.

She was going to follow. He knew it. And he started to realize he wasn't getting any of her thoughts...

...how exceptionally odd.

As he turned around, Dawn gasped softly, recoiling slightly. He looked... sick. Not like gross sick, but like... sick sick. Not like he'd looked in class. No, his eyes hadn't looked so dark, and the circles under them so pronounced. And he was so pale.

"No, seriously, take it back," she called after him, raising the hand with the pen in midair uncertainly. She knew the first day of school was stressful - and she could stress out like nobody's business, Buffy and her friends could attest to that - but it shouldn't have made anyone sick. Maybe he had, like, cancer. Then she'd feel really guilty about taking his pen, even though he told her to keep it. "You can loan it to me next time."

He wasn't listening to her, disappearing into the stairwell, but even though he was totally rude, he didn't look so good. Maybe he didn't know where the school nurse was. Well, neither did she, but she could help him find her office. He totally needed her help. Dawn Summers, good samaritan to the jerks of Sunnydale High. Right. She snorted, but followed him, skipping nimbly down the stairs to catch up with him. She reached out to grab his arm. It was probably pushy, but so what? What was one more high school enemy?

"Hey, are you okay?"

Dawn could not possibly understand what she was doing. Edward comforted himself with that, still puzzled as to why he couldn't hear inside her head.

Crazy could be his middle name. Whatever.

But there was serious concern now. She thought he was sick. She wasn't wrong.

And this building... what was it, a magnet for thirst? He scowled.

And he felt her hand close on his arm. The electric shock came back. It wasn't just that he was hungry, it was... there was something different, something he knew was different about Dawn, about her blood...

He could smell it.

He couldn't shrug her off.

Sorry, Carlisle. I'm just... I'm not this strong...

Edward turned, and they were both at the bottom of the stairs now. The bell rang for the start of the next class period, and he knew the halls were emptying.

Black eyes locked on Dawn's face. He already felt regret, but that wasn't going to stop him.

There was no response he could give her, so he just grabbed her arm and pulled her out into the hallway by the hand, trying not to think about how warm she was compared to him, and yanked her into a nearby classroom that had no lights on.

"I'm sorry," he managed.

The bell rang somewhere through the fog, and Dawn knew vaguely that the rest of the student body would be either in class, or in the cafeteria for those who had lunch sixth. The seniors. The stairway was empty. But she was surrounded by fog, which seemed to happen for some reason when Edward Cullen looked at her. Was he a-

Oh, stop it, she snapped at herself. He wasn't a demon, for crissakes, this was high school. There were demons here, but they were a whole different kind. Less 'Dracula,' more 'Carrie.' And this boy, he wasn't well, she should help him find the nurse.

She opened her mouth to suggest that very thing when his fingers wrapped around her wrist and yanked. Gasping in surprise, she flew after him, only fleetingly marveling at the strength of his grip and the chill of his skin. Chill. Well, yeah, he was sick, he was probably all clammy. Only sick people usually didn't pull her into dark, unused classrooms. Dawn's heart skipped a beat. The whole thing had a feel of 'Seven Minutes In Heaven' gone wrong. She didn't know what to think.

"F-for what?" she whispered.

"I don't like being rude," Edward said, voice barely there now.

He was scaring her. Her fear made her smell better, if that was even possible. Edward didn't have a chance. He gave Dawn a very sad smile. "But I don't have a choice."

He closed the distance between the two of them, cursing under his breath as he went, and he grabbed Dawn, hands settling on her waist and holding her steady. She couldn't move if she wanted to; he was acting as a vice.

He inhaled deeply for a moment, then brought his head back like a snake about to strike and bit down into her neck.

God, her neck? He hated himself already.

One mouthful of blood, though, one swallow, and Edward stood straight, eyes wide, and let go of her.

This was a horrible mistake. She... she was... He narrowed his eyes, not even thinking about what he was going to have to do now, how he was going to have to explain it, the possible physical pain of it... but he hadn't taken anything, really, just a taste...

"You're not what," Edward gulped. "What I thought you were."

And how to even begin to apologize. Wonderful show of restraint, Edward.

"Give me five minutes and I'll get out of your life," he said, managing to reign in the fact that he wanted more out of her, that he could feel her heartbeat now from 10 paces.

School was the last place she had expected this to happen. Walking home from the Bronze in the middle of the night, yeah, or looking for Spike in the graveyard. Not at school. School was a haven of boredom and learning and being that weird girl whose mother died and then she had a very public breakdown in front of her entire art class. Normal, mundane, everyday things.

Not this. Not vampires.

As his hands closed on her waist and his face drew closer, she thought, crazily, that he was going to kiss her. Her last thought before his mouth descended was, Janice is going to be so pissed at me. She was making less than no sense. But this just wasn't right.

And what wasn't right was the way he jumped back from her, like the way he'd jerked his hand away from hers, eyes wide, pushing her away. Her knees buckled, more from fear and shock than blood loss, and she groped for the nearest desk behind her, leaning against the edge. She clamped her hand down over the wound - scratch, really, just two tiny marks on the side of her neck, barely bleeding - and stared at him, mouth slightly open. Her brain was moving like a sloth, not comprehending. It took a few moments before she regained her sentence-forming abilities.

"Yeah," she said weakly. "Neither are you." She shifted her hand on her neck, feeling the slickness against her palm. Was he going to kill her? Wasn't he? They continued to stare at each other, Dawn's brain trying to understand. There were two most pressing questions. One - how could he be a vampire and be out in daylight? And two - why had he pushed her away? She didn't generally know vampires to have a conscience, and it hadn't been that, anyway, she was sure of it. She'd glimpsed a flash of it in his eyes.

"I know vampires," she murmured. "They're not like you." Yet another situation where she should be running away without a backwards glance, yet she was staying behind to have a conversation. She really must have a death wish.

Edward paused. He would NOT focus on her neck. He wouldn't do it.

"You're..." There was a smirk, despite himself. "You're not going to run out of here screaming?" Then there was the realization, slow, cold...

I know vampires. Plural. He wasn't the only one. And they were here. And they... what? Talked to her?

"Dawn, I..." What did one say in this situation. "I'm so sorry." His voice was velvet, smooth, truly pained. "My restraint leaves more than a little to be desired. I really thought things would be different here."

Edward straightened, and he took a single step toward Dawn. "Five minutes, please. I'll get on my knees and beg for them."

He let his eyes dart to the wound on her neck. Did three days even matter? What was she? Edward hated himself for thinking of the taste of her.

"We need to talk."

"Yeah, well, I have this bad habit of going against my instincts." However, as he moved towards her, Dawn wanted to put out her hand, to stop him, but one hand was busy covering her neck and the other was holding her attached to the desk, and she was afraid she'd just topple over sideways if she let go, so she just shook her head shortly. No. "It's probably going to get me killed one of these days." Her tone was slightly accusing, but if he was a vampire, then - what? She should be mad at him for going against his nature? No, she should be mad at herself for being an idiot. She should never attempt to make any new friends. You just end up getting bitten. Literally.

"Don't bother with the begging," she said wearily. He didn't sound like he was going to try eating her again. She wondered why. But it all suddenly made sense. Why he was so curt in class, why he ran out of there without even looking at her. He couldn't even control himself... god, this was stupid. Dangerous and stupid. But...

"Talk. Please explain to me how you can go around in broad daylight. And why you go to school when you're obviously so hungry you're sick with it if, like you say, you wanted things to be different. And different from what, exactly?"

She was probably being demanding in hopes of distracting him from trying to have another taste, she reasoned. But the truth was, it was that damned curiosity again.

Edward blinked at her.

This was absolutely unprecedented. He half wanted to pull out a phone right now and...

... and he'd left it in the car, but he was betting right now, it was ringing. He would've bet everything he had and some things he didn't that Alice was calling. NOW.

"You're far too calm about this," he observed, voice talking a bit of a playful edge. Her blood had some kick; he shouldn't be able to DO that. And actually, if she was looking, she might notice that the dark circles were a shade less dark, and Edward's eyes were no longer black.

They were warming. They were brown. Red-brown.

"I don't know why you know so much about..." Edward stopped. "But that'll have to wait. Look, I'm not from here, which I'm sure you know, but I don't believe you are, either. My family and I aren't the vampires you're used to."

He'd said it. No turning back now.

"We don't drink from humans. We hunt. But there hasn't been anything to hunt around here... and I should've planned better, or missed the first day of classes. This is all my fault."

Anger flickered behind his eyes. He was angry with himself. VERY angry. Edward's temper was infamous.

He sighed. "I can't explain everything in five minutes, Dawn. But I need information from you because my lapse in... judgement... could cost you your life. That comes first. Alright?"

He paced a little, watching her behind that desk. "You either need to tell me exactly..." The lack of decorum was going to be staggering.... "what you are, why you're so strong, or you need to let me take another look at your neck. I'm guessing the vampires you know," he gave the word it's own italics, using his voice, "don't kill with venom. But I can. And I don't want that for you."

Edward waited. "So talk to me."

Talk.

At the moment, Dawn couldn't.

It had been just another normal school day. Get lost in the halls, show up late to class, discover that a pen's exploded all over the bag, try and help out a new student... Damn Buffy and her savior complex. Either it ran in the family or it was rubbing off.

Dawn vaguely realized that she was missing lunch, but somehow she wasn't hungry anymore. Getting bitten (at school!) by a whole new breed of vampire would do that to you.

At least Edward was looking better, she noted wryly. Glad I could help. And she doubted, new breed or not, that they could fill up on just one sip. No, this had something to do with her. With the Key.

She sighed.

"I don't know what I am. As far as I knew, I was just normal, human, until some psychic and crazy people started telling me otherwise. I mean, I don't have any abilities or anything. That's my sister." She paused for a moment, considering, then shook her head. "That's a long story. But I can't tell you anything more than that." It felt kind of comforting, like a relief, being able to say that to someone. I don't know if I am human. Never mind that the someone in question had just tried to make a meal out of her. He did seem genuinely sorry. And the secret was lighter when it was shared.

She paused, watching him, bright blue eyes narrowing in consideration. Then a word struck her. "Wait. What do you mean, venom?"

Her sister? Who was she?

Edward chuckled, just once, just for a second.

"Oh, venom's scary?" He arched an eyebrow. "That's a problem, but you know vampires and crazy people and just told me you don't know what you are."

That's right, Edward. Taunt the poor girl.

His chest rose and fell with one small breath.

"The venom works in three days, but I don't know the specifics of it. I've never..." This was a lot of sharing for him. Quite a lot. "I've never bitten with the intent to turn."

He took a few more tentative steps, looking at Dawn, seriously, considering her. "Does it hurt? Does it feel... cold?"

He knew that, at least. It would hurt. If it didn't hurt...

"I don't blame you if you want nothing to do with me, but you may need the venom drawn out."

It went without saying that he was offering. And her thoughts remained closed. His eyebrows furrowed.

Excuse me?

"You know, I didn't choose to live like this," she said testily. "Normal vampires and crazy people are old news on the Hellmouth. And can we not talk about me and what I am and what I'm not? Because you just tried to eat me for lunch and if I was totally human, you probably would have, so I think I have the moral high ground here, okay?"

She sat on the desk, eyes narrowed at him, breathing heavily after the outburst. Which, quite honestly, was not uncalled for, considering she'd just tried to help him and he bit her. And did she mention they were at school?

Her eyes widened as he stepped closer, her heart speeding up again, even though her gut said to trust him, her voice of reason said hello, vampire? "Three days?" she repeated, her voice quiet now, uncertain. "That's not how it works. They have to drain you and then you have to drink their blood and then you die and you come back..." she trailed off, fingertips brushing across the marks on her neck.

But that's not how it works with you, is it?

"It's... kind of numb, actually," she admitted. But having 'venom drawn out' did not sound very appealing. Couldn't they just wait three days and see if she died? She might like that option better.

Okay. He officially liked her. This was a big problem.

"Hellmouth?" Both eyebrows raised. He didn't think Carlisle or Esme had mentioned that... but it didn't sound very promising.

He nodded, smirking, and tucked his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "I know what I did, Dawn, and I'm quite sorry. I am not at all under the impression that I am morally superior. Believe me."

He shook his head at her next words, watching her blue eyes carefully. "It's not the same," Edward said softly.

Numb? He didn't know what to do with that.

"If we let it go," he said, looking her in the eye, levelly, "and the venom reaches your heart, and you're not... immune, or stronger, for whatever reason, it's going to be incredibly painful. Slow. And it will kill you."

He didn't know what to do. At all. He supposed it was her choice, but making another vampire was the last thing Edward had wanted to do, here.

"Yes, Hellmouth. Convergence of mystical energy, draws the supernatural, blah blah, we're sitting on it." Dawn took her hand off of the desk long enough to point to the floor. Literally sitting on it. Another disadvantage she had over her classmates - knowing exactly what went on under those tile-and-linoleum floors.

Hell.

Somehow, she didn't think she was ready to join the Hellmouth Undead Brigade. Not that she wouldn't have lots of friends on the welcoming committee, but this wasn't a conversation she wanted to have with Buffy just yet. Or ever.

She looked at him. Really looked at him. And for some bizarre reason, being in the same room with him didn't want to make her run out screaming and come back with an assortment of stakes and a flamethrower. He seemed sincere and she trusted him. Gods, it was stupid and senseless but she trusted him. She was an idiot, but she couldn't force distrust. Caution, yes, but she was tired of being suspicious of everyone around her.

"I don't want to die," she said softly.

Edward's eyebrows raised and lowered.

"Oh." He scratched his forehead. "I didn't see that one coming."

He was watching her face, so carefully. Dawn was just starting to worry. It was hitting home.

He wanted to know why he hadn't known this, why he couldn't read her thoughts... there were a lot of whys. Where was Alice when you needed her?

He didn't move. There was no way he was initiating physical contact again, especially when he'd been so stupid as to go right for her neck. "I don't want that, either," Edward said. "And I give you my word I'll talk to you about this after..."

He stopped himself. Would he really? Really? They'd see about that.

"I should be able to tell right away. I can stop it. I can taste it and smell it." His eyes were down as he said those things, looking at the floor.

"Come here," he said, gently, doing his best to make everything about himself non-threatening. He raised warm brown eyes to Dawn's and waited.

If her inner weird-o-meter had red lights, they were flashing right now. And something was probably spinning, and there was a whistle in there somewhere. But what choice did she have? She'd already made her mistake. Not that she could really blame herself, because hello, school, broad daylight. There were no familiar warning signs. How could she have known?

Her heart sped up, regardless of who was right and who was in the wrong, and she felt short of breath. Maybe she could just pass out right now and make things less awkward. But that wouldn't make the problem of her possible and impending death go away.

"Yes," she said firmly, "we are going to have a nice long talk. Possibly over coffee, and other substances that replenish red blood cells, which you will be buying." She looked at him, one eyebrow raised, to make sure that he realized that she was being completely serious, and his eyes locked onto hers. Then she realized that there was no way she could get off of the desk without falling over.

"Um, I don't think I can," she admitted, her voice small. "Can you...?"

Edward heard her heart beat faster. He was scaring her.

Great job. He was so angry with himself he had to work to repress a scowl. "I'm so far beyond sorry," he whispered.

Edward nodded at her, her coffee comments. He could fake it through coffee, right? And he certainly owed her at least a cup of something. Were she legal, he'd probably get her a stiff drink.

Oh, no.

"Are you okay?"

Dumbest. Question. EVER.

"I mean, can you move? Do you feel worse, Dawn?"

Edward crossed the rest of the distance to where she was, bracing himself for the worst and for the fact that she would likely recoil when he touched her.

He really had to be more careful. This was inexcusable. He picked her up, gathered her toward him, looser than before but firmly enough that she wouldn't crumple to the floor in a heap. Edward looked her full in the face, making a note to take a minute to appreciate the color of her eyes once her life wasn't hanging in the balance.

"It stops now," he said, voice soothing. Edward's eyes lowered, and he closed them for a second, fighting off the scent of Dawn's fear and her blood in general.

Intoxicating. How could he have known that she....

He looked at her, making sure she understood. "It's not even a bite, okay? Nod for me. Tell me you understand. It's not like that, Dawn."

He waited for the nod, and when it came, he dipped his head and placed his mouth on the wound he'd been careless enough to create in the first place.

And he could taste the venom.

A jolt of energy went through Dawn's body when he touched her, like electricity, like lightning through water. Even though logically she knew she should leave, run away, talk to Willow and try to figure out a spell to fix whatever was wrong, her instinct told her to stay. That Edward really was sorry, that he'd made a mistake. That he could help her.

If Spike had hurt her, he'd try to fix it.

She folded easily against him as he picked her up, her head spinning, her whole body thrumming. It was all too much. She just wanted to be not dying anymore and then she could sleep for twelve hours until it all went away. But before that could happen, this would have to.

"I can hear you," she said, mildly irritably, although her voice was faint. The mark on her neck was growing more numb, the lack of feeling spreading to her shoulder. She let her hand fall from her neck to her lap, bloody fingers curling into a loose fist. "I'm fine," she added, knowing that she wasn't, not really, but she wasn't going to die right there and then or pass out or anything stupid like that. She was just weak from the shock and the fear. But it was all going to stop. Now.

She nodded, her eyes drifting closed. Her muscles were about to relax when she felt his mouth over the wound, and she tensed up again, her breath escaping in a hiss through her clenched teeth. Her hand grabbed at his shirt, leaving red smears on the fabric, needing something to hold on to. It didn't hurt. It just felt strange and awkwardly intimate. Yeah, she'd definitely need a nap after this.

She closed her eyes and waited to stop dying.

Remorse was a horrible emotion. Edward remembered why he'd stopped feeding on humans to begin with.

Even if they were usually the evil ones.

The jolt wasn't lost on Edward, either, but he had to concentrate. If she really did feel numb, and why would she lie, he had to work now.

He felt her whole body tense in his arms and immediately wanted nothing more than to fall before her, apologetic.

He held the back of Dawn's neck, to keep her still, and was incredibly careful. There was just a slow pull of blood and venom from her neck, back to him, and the constant listening to the sound of Dawn's heartbeat.

Edward went back to hating himself. She tasted so, so good.

The venom went back to its source, slow, a few gulps needed, and Edward's lips left her neck. He held Dawn up, being so careful, and swallowed hard.

He wanted the taste of her out of his mouth before he spoke.

Edward's eyes were softer now, a warm amber, and the circles faded still more. He looked at Dawn carefully, watching her eyes, making sure she was alright.

"I'm afraid if I let you go, you might fall down," he said. Edward smiled at her, one side of his mouth twitching up in a lopsided smirk, then falling. It didn't reach his eyes. "Can I take you home, Dawn? Or... to the nurse?"

"Yeah, I probably would," Dawn said weakly, and laughed. The laughter wasn't very joyful, but it did present a funny image to her, if she were to just keel over sideways if he put her down. She wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and sleep for two days and then get up and do the first day of school over again. With no vampires this time.

Her hand was still clutching his shirt, and her knuckles had turned white. But he was right, it was different, it hadn't hurt, not really. Just a slow, steady pull, and she could feel the echoes of her heartbeat ringing in her ears.

"I think I want to go home," she said quietly. Of course, she'd have to walk there. And she wasn't sure that she wanted him to walk her home. She had so many questions... but should she really be around him? He did save her life, but he'd put it in danger first. She should be smart. She should walk away and never see him again. Being friends with vampires was like playing with fire. She'd already gotten burned and all she'd done was borrow a writing utensil.

"Yeah, can you, um, put me down? I need to re-learn how to walk. Unless you're planning on carrying me the whole way, which would look kind of weird and would probably not go over well with my sister."

Edward nodded.

Without a further sound, he took Dawn's hand and unclenched it, placing it at her side. He still felt the need to apologize, and found himself unable to stop himself from actually doing it again.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. His face was betraying his pain.

Wonderful, Edward. Wonderful day.

He let go of Dawn and stepped back, close enough that he could grab her if she fell but far enough that he was no longer insinuating himself into her space.

"I can drive you, if you want," he offered. "But I don't think I'd blame you if you don't want to get in a car with me. Walking's fine, too."

Good thing it was overcast today, or walking wouldn't have been fine.

"I promise not to carry you unless you ask me to."

He gave her a crooked half-smile, and went back to wondering why he couldn't read her, why all of this had been so painful for both of them.

"Are you... relatively alright?"

Either he was really sincere or he was a damn good actor. Dawn had absolutely no idea why, but she didn't want to go for the stake in her bag. Even though he'd tried to kill her, had actually bitten her - and Dawn thought she had a good record of avoiding that - she somehow believed that he was sorry. She had no idea why, but she did.

"Yeah, okay, just... bring your lunch next time," she muttered as he set her down carefully. He could've just eaten her. Or left her to die, without making sure that the poison was gone, that she'd be alright later. He didn't have to offer to walk her home, for crissakes. Wiping her bloody palm on her jeans, she steadied herself against the desk, the shock giving way to profound relief and, as always, morbid curiosity. If he'd really wanted to kill her, he had his chance, she reasoned.

"Alright," she said, straightening slowly to make sure that her legs would hold her. More or less steady. "Relatively. I think we'll walk, though. I don't live too far away, and I've got a few more questions for you." She shot him a steady glance, determination and curiosity in her eyes now that the fear's bled away.

Now it was maddening that he couldn't read her. Absolutely maddening.

Edward felt the fear go, and Dawn's smell changed. Good. He really didn't want to be scaring her, after all.

He grinned at her comment, and this time it did reach his eyes. "They allow mountain lions in the halls?"

He winked. Couldn't help it.

His eyes followed Dawn's hand as she wiped the blood on her jeans, and Edward made a conscious decision to stop breathing for now. He nodded at her.

"Alright," he said. "Lead the way, then. Just... please do one thing first, if you don't mind."

Edward's eyes were soft, pleading, and his voice was close to that, too.

"Wash your hands."

"I'll wait right here. I think there's a bathroom right nextdoor, anyway, and then we'll go."

Glancing down at the reddish streak her hand left on her jeans, Dawn swallowed and nodded. It's true, there were nice vampires - Spike was proof of that - but a vampire was still a vampire.

"I'll meet you in the hall," she said quietly. For some reason, she couldn't quite meet his eyes. Picking up her bag from the floor, where it had fallen when Edward had basically attacked her, she slipped past him and through the door.

In the bathroom, she washed her hands and dabbed at her neck with a damp paper towel. It didn't look terrible, but still, she was sure Buffy could recognize a vampire hickey from three miles away. And she wasn't sure that Edward deserved to get staked quite yet. If stakes even killed his kind. She resolved to wear scarves for the next week.

Looking into her own eyes in the mirror, she steadied herself, took a deep breath. She was about to walk back into the company of a vampire. A vampire who'd clearly proven himself to be dangerous. Part of her wanted to hide in the bathroom and never come out. Part of her wanted to call Buffy and scream hysterically for a while. But part of her wanted to walk back out there and figure out Edward's secrets. She wondered if holy water would keep him away.

"Don't do anything stupid," she told her reflection, then laughed. Too late, wasn't it? Turning on her heel, she walked outside, seeing Edward lounging against the wall, waiting for her. Like he promised.

Never trust a vampire.

"There's a door outside down those stairs, I think," she said quietly. "We just have to avoid classroom doors with windows." Waiting for a nod from him, she darted across the hall and into the stairwell, skipping down the stairs quickly and bursting outside into the cool California autumn air. The fresh air felt good. It helped put things into perspective a little bit.

Making sure he was with her, she began to walk towards Revello Drive. "There's a butcher around here," she said matter-of-factly. "Sells pig's blood by the pint. I know vampires who get by."

When Dawn went out to the bathroom, Edward straightened, and followed out to the hallway.

He leaned on a bank of lockers, ducking back into the empty classroom momentarily when a wayward teacher was on her way down the hall, high heels clicking and thoughts like a mega phone.

He came back out and leaned again, and followed her down the stairs and outside.

Happily, it was still cloudy.

Edward fell into step beside Dawn, hands in his pockets, head angled down.

"A butcher shop," he mused, smirking. "Really." The line of his jaw hardened. He'd been about to make a crack about his preference of animal, but in front of Dawn, after what had happened, that would be cruel.

Edward wasn't cruel.

And he filed the questions he had about these other vampires in the back of his head. Right now, he had to do the answering. Mea culpa, he thought.

"I'm your captive audience, Dawn," Edward said. "You have questions, ask them."

He'd never be giving about this again. He knew it.

"Yes, really," Dawn said testily, rolling her eyes. "You want to repeat this fiasco another time? Somebody else might not be so understanding." She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. He looked so dejected. Well, should've kept his emotions in check, then. She wasn't particularly sympathetic, but she wasn't going to rub it in.

"So let me tell you something," she said as they walked. "Here in Sunnydale we have your standard breed of horror movie vampire. Sunlight, stakes and crosses, holy water, the whole nine yards. And now you tell me - what makes you different?"

Edward flinched.

"I deserve that, you're right," he said. He sighed, able, now that they were outside, to breathe again. And now he was actually trying to read Dawn's mind, and nothing was coming.

This was going to be addressed. Had to be.

But he stayed quiet, for now. He blinked a few times, watching his feet move over the sidewalk, listening carefully.

His head raised at the question, and he regarded Dawn thoughtfully before speaking.

"'Horror movie vampire,'" he repeated, mouth twitching into a smirk. "That would be the type of vampire you know, then. The type that visits the butcher?"

It wasn't really a question, and he wondered why such a vampire would go to a butcher instead of feeding on people. But that wasn't the issue right now.

"Everything," he said, responding. "Everything makes me different. None of that hurts me, though sunlight is definitely an issue, but that's for different reasons."

Reasons we won't be getting into today.

"I'm not going to tell you how to kill me, but those things won't do it. I'm not a horror movie vampire. I hunt animals instead of humans, as I mentioned, because my family prefers to be in the world instead of on the outskirts."

Edward swallowed. Before Dawn, he hadn't bitten a human... was she even human...?... in decades. He had things he wanted to know, too. Important things.

Amber-colored eyes focused on the side of Dawn's face. "What specificially is it you want to know, Dawn?"

"Not all of them," she shrugged, in reply to his vampire question. "Most of them stalk unsuspecting teenagers in cemeteries. This one's just... a friend." She supposed she could call Spike that. He protected her, after all, and helped her when she needed it, even though he liked to maintain that Big Bad facade. She saw right through it, though. He cared about her. A human. She just wished he knew she didn't think any less of him for it.

"Someone's going to have to make a vampire catalogue," she muttered under her breath as Edward explained what he was, how he was different. Then she smirked. Vampires, assorted. This was really getting ridiculous.

At his question, she half-shrugged, wrapping her arms around herself. The day was chilly, for a Californian autumn afternoon. "I don't know," she said slowly, then shook her head. "Everything, I suppose. How you're different from every other vampire I know. I mean, most of the others are content to live in crypts and stalk the streets for prey at night. They have their own world, and it's separate from ours. They don't go to school. They don't hunt animals, if that's what you really do. I just want to know why you're so different." She glanced up at him, blue eyes narrowed slightly, as if she could read the answers across his skin. The chronicler in her, the junior Watcher, wanted to study him, figure out why and how. But she kind of wanted to know him, too, Edward, why he wanted to be a part of the human world. Most vampires saw humans as weak, inferior, food. Edward had actually apologized to a stranger for losing control.

Not your average garden variety vampire.

That explained a lot.

Edward couldn't read her, and that was beyond troubling... but she'd just told him a big part of what he'd been wondering. Why not be shocked by his behavior? Why not run when you realized what was in the room with you? All of these things had crossed his mind. He made a note to ask about this special vampire.

Later.

He laughed at the catalogue comment, and it was a musical laugh. "Not a bad idea," he murmured.

He considered her question before answering it.

"I don't know every other vampire you know," Edward began, "so I'm not sure how to explain what they do or do not want. I'm just not wired like that. When I was younger..."

He kind of didn't want to be telling her this. But he felt so guilty.

"... I hunted people. I'd search out the bad ones. But even that got to be too much. And what I've seen of the world that the rest of my kind live in... I'll take my choice every day of the week, and three times on Sunday. We tend to be... solitary." Edward shrugged. "I love my family, so that's not an option."

He smiled gently. "I do hunt animals. I wasn't kidding. My brother likes grizzly bears the best."

Her eyes were scanning him, but it was a different type of scanning than the rest of those high school girls. Edward decided he liked Dawn.

"What else?"

in dreams- untitled- gj posting date 05.07.07

Wed, 09 Jan 2008 05:24:41 GMT

LINDSEY:
[this happens concurrently with the thread at Buffy's house]

Lindsey sighed, sitting down on the couch in Buffy’s house, listening to everyone argue and talk and discuss things. Arguing worse than the partners at Wolfram and Hart. Just like old times, he guessed.

Tuning it out, he closed his eyes, wondering if he could get back to Caritas, to Phaedra’s dreams.

+/+/+/+/+

He walked into the club, footsteps echoing in the still space. Chairs were upside down, resting on top of the tables, the stage dark. He walked between the tables, turning as a shape moved out of the shadows.

“You’re a little early, sweetcheeks.” Lorne sipped at the glass in his hand, eyes a little more serious than his usual sunny disposition. “No audience for you tonight.”

Lindsey nodded, hands in his pockets as he looked around.

“I know, I jus’-”

“Wanted to see if Li’l Miss Gypsy was here?” At Lindsey’s nod, Lorne smiled sadly, gesturing towards the stage with his glass. There was a stool there, lit up by a spotlight that hadn’t been on moments before. A sleek black semi-acoustic guitar rested against the stool, mike stand set out in front.

“Go ahead, sugarcake. Can’t guarantee anybody out there’ll be listening but me.” He melted back into the shadows as Lindsey climbed up the stage. He took a few moments to tune the guitar, though in truth he hadn’t needed to.

Clearing his throat softly, he licked his lips, taking a deep breath as fingers settled into familiar shapes, forming chords as he began to strum softly.

"I guess I oughta tell you what's been going on
Well I've been chasing dreams for everyone but me.
When your heart is filled with misery
It's hard to find the energy
To remember just how much she means to me.

Well I keep everything inside so long till it burns
Everybody stokes the fire and the walls get a little higher.
I light the candle at both ends
And I hit the gas, the wheels start to spin
But she's always there to catch me when I fall..."

PHAEDRA:
She was still there.

Time moved differently here, like her brother said. That'd always be the case. That's why some dreams felt like forever, when you'd only been asleep 20 minutes.

Phaedra was unconscious, in reality, still. She would be for a long while. She wasn hanging by her wrists, Angelus having his field day with her.

Phaedra turned around, still sitting on the stool where she'd been before, next to Angel. But this time, the whole place was empty.

Except for Lorne. And Lindsey.

She stood up, walking toward the stage, stopping next to the demon. Without taking her eyes off of the stage, she asked him a question. "Who's dream is this?"

Lorne shrugged, taking a seat next to her. Phaedra's eyes followed him. "Your guess is as good as mine, dumplin'. Though I have a feeling it's got something to do with the mojo between you two."

Phaedra took a few more steps, realizing her feet were still bare, and stopped, looking up at Lindsey as he sang.

LINDSEY:
Lindsey smiled as he spotted her, letting the final notes of his song fade away before setting his guitar down, standing up and stepping off the edge of the stage.

"Hey." He murmured, walking over to her, still smiling sweetly. "I was hopin' you'd show up." He slid an arm around her waist, the other cupping her face as he tilted her head back a little, kissing her slowly, deeply, sighing. Almost as good as the real thing, but not quite.

"How're you doin', darlin'?"

PHAEDRA:
Phaedra sighed, too.

"Been much better," she said. She didn't go into the rest; what good was it going to do either of them? Why wouldn't I show up?

"I know why I'm here," she continued. "Why're you? What are you escaping from?"

She arched an eyebrow, watching his face.

LINDSEY:
Lindsey grimaced.

"They're discussing plans of attack. Or arguin', more accurately. I'll let 'em shout for a bit, then see what people actually want to do." He smiled a little, lifting a chair off one of the tables and sitting down. He looped an arm around Phaedra's waist, tugging her into his lap, grinning at the soft cotton dress that floated about her calves, thin barrier between his hand and her thigh.

"Good news is, you got a lotta people gettin' together to come find ya." He murmured, one hand resting on the small of her back, the other on the outside of her thigh, holding her close and holding her up.

"Slayers, vampires, Watchers, werewolves, an Animator an' me." He grinned. "Even got Angel's merry band lookin'."

PHAEDRA:
Phaedra laughed slightly when he pulled her to sit on him. She listened, though, considering.

"Sounds like a party," she said. The 'Angel's Merry Band' crack made her grin. "It also sounds like everyone is probably yelling at each other and over each other."

There were reasons she worked alone. Good reasons. "You didn't have anything to say?"

LINDSEY:
"No point jus' yet." He murmured. "They're too busy yellin' at each other to listen. Plus, ain't like Wesley and Gunn wanna give me any kinda help. Better let Anita handle things." He grinned.

"So, me an' Spike sorta killed Saerian's lighter." He smirked a little. "Bleach-boy jumped up an' down on it. Funniest thing I seen all day."

PHAEDRA:
She started to ask why they didn't want to help him, then realized. She'd seen it in his blood, whether he knew it or not. She'd seen how they'd all treated each other.

She smirked, picturing this. Then she raised an eyebrow, turning her face toward him. "Spike's there? And... helping? Why would he do that?"

Still, the mental image was priceless.

LINDSEY:
Lindsey nodded.

"Guess he hates Angelus jus' like the rest of us. An'," he bit his lip, not knowing if he should tell her, "he ran into Saerian. From the looks'f things, Saerian can't mess with Spike's mind. Somethin' to do with a chip?"

PHAEDRA:
Phaedra damn near fell off Lindsey's lap, laughing.

"Ohhh, that's too good," she said, grinning. "Perfect."

She sighed out the last word, eyes raising to the cieling--a very cute, very Little Bird gesture.

Recovering, she paused to explain. "He... was captured. By the government. They experimented on him. There's a chip in his head that controls his impulses. He can't hurt people anymore, or it sends him a pretty big shock."

LINDSEY:
indsey arched an eyebrow.

"Which explains the scream when he punched me." He chuckled. "We sorta...had a disagreement." He smirked a little.

"Mind you, he seems to find the fact I'm besotted with the big bad Phaedra amusin'..." He leant close, nuzzling softly at her neck, sighing.

"Gotten used to havin' you in my bed." He mumbled, breathing her in. "Ain't right bein' alone." And he shouldn't feel that...needy, that unsettled without her. Not after only a few days.

PHAEDRA:
"He punched you?" Her eyebrow raised. She wasn't concerned. Who hasn't? she thought, playfully.

She wasn't in her body, not right now. Why couldn't she joke?

"I'm sure he does," she said, shutting her eyes as he nuzzled her. "Spike's a little afraid of me, I think. When Anita and I got here, I worked him over pretty well."

Phaedra felt like she'd cry if this kept up. She knew she wasn't really here. She could feel it. But the delusion was so much better than her reality...

She looked at Lindsey. "I'd have to agree with you on that, ves'tacha," she said.

LINDSEY:

Lindsey sighed, tilting his chin up, kissing her lightly.

"Dance with me." He murmured, urging her to her feet. He grinned as music began to play, slow and sweet, taking her hand and leading her to a clear area of the club, no chairs to get in their way. He pulled Phaedra into his arms, one hand on the small of her back, the other holding her hand in his.

PHAEDRA:
Phaedra shut her eyes, even if it was a relatively small kiss.

She smiled at him slightly, something in her eyes giving away her pain. "Dance with you?"

He was pulling her to her feet, and she let him, skirt swishing around her legs. Much easier to let him than to try to talk him out of it. And it was just a dance, right?

One hand rested on her back and the other took hers. Phaedra found herself looking up slightly at Lindsey, looking him in the eye.

So blue. She missed blue like that, that vibrant sky color.

"You're going to laugh at me," she said, eyebrows both raising, voice slightly shakey. "I, uh... I've never done this before."

LINDSEY:
Lindsey's mouth twitched upwards in a smile, but he managed not to laugh.

"Pretty girl like you an' you've never danced before?" He teased, holding her close. "S'easy. Just follow me, 'kay? And don't trod on my feet, kinda attached to them."

PHAEDRA:
Something like a glare was her response.

"Slowdancing didn't exist when I was mortal," she said.

It was true. People would've thought it was too close for comfort--even gypsies. They danced, yeah, but everything was more of a folk dance.

And once I wasn't mortal... who was I going to dance with, ves'tacha?

Damnit, the smile was cute. She found herself smiling herself.

"You're attached to your feet?" She laughed. "You have shoes. I don't."

She was doing okay, though. Wasn't so tough. She could get used to this--the being held and swayed aspect was great.

LINDSEY:
Lindsey laughed.

"Good point." He smiled, pulling her closer, looking down at her.

You got me, darlin'. He moved them slowly around the floor, holding her close with the arm around her waist, humming quietly as he smiled down at her. For now, they had this. Something no one else could touch.

PHAEDRA:
She knew part of this was only because of memory. There was no way there was this much detail in this kind of limbo; no way she could physically feel his arms around her, or hear his heart beating.

Right?

She wasn't so sure anymore.

Phaedra swallowed, gulping down a wave of feeling, sighing, not speaking. Speech could ruin this. She was managing not to step on him or get stepped on... managing to actually enjoy what was going on.

How am I doing?

LINDSEY:
You're doin' just fine. His eyes let on that she was doing more than fine. But he was too scared to say more, even in a dream. Or was it? Sure felt too damn real to be a dream.

He let them come to a halt, cupping Phaedra's face in gentle hands, kissing her softly, sweetly. He was trembling, just a little, the only sign that he was at all worried for Phaedra. For them.

PHAEDRA:
Good.

She managed a smile before he started kissing her, holding her face in warm hands.

Phaedra felt him shake. Still silent, she returned the kiss, gently, then pulled back, looking at him with large, clear green eyes.

"You're shaking," she said, whispering, mouth still very close to his.

LINDSEY:
"Pretty girls make me nervous." He whispered back, blue eyes bright and guileless. His hands slid down from her face, barely brushing the curve of her breasts as they made their way down to her waist, resting there, warm and reassuring as they kissed.

For a moment, he wondered how Phaedra was really holding up, what Angelus would do-no. He wouldn't let himself think about that. Not now. He couldn't help but worry, though. Couldn't help but think of Phaedra there, alone and helpless and bleeding. Needing her strength to fight.

He wondered if he could feed her, here. If the blood would stay, would somehow strengthen her.

PHAEDRA:
The movement of his hands got a shiver.

Interesting, Phaedra thought. I can still shiver here.

Then Lindsey was kissing her again, and her eyes closed, chin tilting up to meet his lips.

Phaedra could almost feel his thoughts wandering, but she didn't follow them. Not here. Besides, she had a feeling she knew where they were going.

I'm tougher than I look, she told him silently. She wanted to tell him not to worry, but she found she couldn't do it.

LINDSEY:
"Ain't gon' stop me worrying." He murmured, lips trailing downwards, pressing against her neck, the hollow under her jaw.

You need feed, darlin'? he nuzzled softly at her neck, breathing deep, smiling at the familiar scent he'd grown far too attached to. Don't know that it'll help, here, but if you need to...

PHAEDRA:
"Good," she said aloud, almost laughing.

She closed her eyes for a second, hands around his neck and shoulders, almost clinging. When she opened them again, she could see Lorne over Lindsey's shoulder, standing far back, in the recess's of wherever it was they were. The demon looked heartbroken.

He probably was, Phaedra figured. He was an empath. And she and Lindsey were...

... open wounds?

She shut her eyes again, listening to his voice in her head, then shaking it lightly. Tempting, but I don't think it works like that, ves'tacha. You're emotional sustinence. I need that more.

One hand moved to the back of his head, idly playing with strands of hair.

LINDSEY:
Lindsey practically purred as she wound her fingers in his hair, nuzzling at her neck still, burying his face in dark hair as his hands tightened on her waist, just a little.

God, this was pathetic. If this had been anyone else, Lindsey would've been laughing at them for being such a sap. But it was different when it was him. Different with Phaedra. He couldn't think of any way of saying it that didn't sound cliched, even in his own mind.

"I love you." He murmured, refusing to move away from her even an inch.

PHAEDRA:
Emotional sustience? Way to be literal.

Something like a bitter laugh came out of Phaedra's throat. This was funny.

"Don't do that," she said, words barely audible. "Don't say that when I'm not there to hear it."

She wasn't mad, in the least. She was incredibly touched. So much so that if Lindsey were to pull back and look at her, he'd see the tears on her face. Phaedra didn't break for torture, or full-on physical pain of any sort. She'd even been through more than her share of emotional wreckage.

But this? Feeling this, and having it be out of reach? That got tears. She held on tighter.

Don't listen to me. Say it again.

LINDSEY:
Lindsey felt the dampness against his own cheek, pulling back far enough to kiss away her tears, salt against his lips.

"I love you." He murmured with each soft touch of his lips to her skin, again and again as if he could make it sink in with repetition.

PHAEDRA:
The tears were still coming, slowly. Phaedra hated that.

She hated that something had finally pushed her this far. Three centuries without crying. The last time she'd cried was the night she was made. Angelus did not deserve to be up on the same level as that.

But he wasn't, not really. He wasn't the one wringing the tears out of her. She hadn't made a single sound because of him. Hadn't even raised her voice.

She blinked wet eyes, opening them. A sad smile touched her lips, which immediately sought his. Before she caught them, Phaedra brushed a hand over Lindsey's cheek.

"I know," she said, voice gentle, not at all hard or mocking, like it usually was. "I love you, too."

LINDSEY:
"Good." He murmured, smiling softly as he kissed her again, his hands combing through her hair. They slid down over her shoulders, down either side of her spine, resting on the curve of her ass as he pulled her impossibly closer.

Burying his face against her throat, he sighed, kissing pale skin one last time, eyes closed.

When he opened them again, he was sitting on a couch, as Spike paced angrily.

Damnit.

escape hatch - gj posting date 05.01.07

Wed, 09 Jan 2008 04:39:59 GMT

PHAEDRA:

PROLOGUE

I.

It was quiet. Fingers ran through her hair. She could hear violins, and laughter. Birds chirping. Wind through trees. The laughter was her mother’s.

Startled, Phaedra looked over her shoulder, feeling her hair slip through her mother’s slender hands like water.

Dark eyes shining, mother smiled at daughter. “Baby,” she said, voice coming thick, accent heavy like the weight of the world. Mrs.Romani brought her right hand in front of her face to shield her weathered face, smile lines forming at the corners of her eyes. “What is it? You love when I play with your hair.”

Phaedra gasped, hanging shaking her head. And she saw it. Felt it.

Her clothes had changed. Her surroundings… Phaedra knew she should be hanging from a set of shackles, bleeding. But she was with her mother. Outside. In the sun. a thin, flowing beige blouse slid off one of her shoulders. Looking down, Phaedra saw a red corset around her middle. Her daggers were at her hips, safe—not in a gutter at the Bronze. A cross hung around her neck, plunging down near her navel-something she hadn’t worn since she was a girl. And her shoes… not the heels. Not big city. Simple. Peasant shoes.

She laughed. “I’m sorry,” she said to her mother. “I don’t know what’s come over me.”

Her mother smiled, told her to help her brother. Told her everything in Roma.

Phaedra almost fell to her knees. God, had it been a dream? All of it? Was this another chance?

Kilen snapped his fingers in her face, perilously close to her nose. “C’mon, kid,” he said, packing up the wagon they stood in front of. “Burning daylight.”

Phaedra just looked at him. “You… you’re…”

She couldn’t shake it off. No. This wasn’t happening. Her family was…

“…Dead?” Kilen smiled at her. “So are you, baby sister. So what?”

Phaedra gasped, suddenly feeling hard lines of pain in both her arms. She held them out, looking at them. Blood ran down from shallow cuts. The wounds weren’t closing.

Kilen shook his head at her. “Bandage those, will you? We can’t track with you like that.”

----------------------------------

Green eyes focused, blurring her vision with red. Everything looked red. Must’ve been a great many hits to the head. Only one of him, now. That was better at least. Her enemies had halfed themselves. Just Angelus. Smirking. Her arms had blood on them, but no wounds. Phaedra swallowed, losing consciousness again.
----------------------------------

II.
“Snap out of it!” Kilen was shaking her. Roughly. “Li’sa’eer, what’s wrong with you today, Little Bird?”

He exhaled a long line of smoke. The cigarette he spoke around was black. Sweet smell of cloves. Smiling green eyes like hers.

“Kilen, you have to help me.”

He sighed, settling his weight against the wagon they both, apparently, sat on. “I am,” he said, glaring. A hand, darker than hers, dirt under the fingernails, rougher, moved dark hair out of his eyes. Glimpse of the tattoo on his wrist. Heartache. Like stabbing.

“You’re regressing,” her brother said.

“Big words out of you,” she countered.

“Yeah? Don’t be glib. You’re dying, Little Bird. Snap out of it.”

“I’m already dead. You said it yourself. I died the same night you did.”

She was choking back tears now. Violin music, hurried, not that refined classical hum, echoed in the background. Gypsy violins. Fast and sweet. Firelight.

But hadn’t it just been day? Her eyebrows furrowed.

“Semantics,” Kilen said. “Time is different here.”

“Where’s here?”

He chuckled. “Your head.”

Phaedra nodded, resting on his shoulder as he exhaled another throatful of smoke.

“You can’t stay here, Phaedra.”

This was serious. He’d never called her that—just little sister or Little Bird. He was holding her hand now. Blood dripped down from the wounds on her arms, marring his hand and hers, covering Kilen’s second tattoo, on his index finger.

“This?” Kilen said, raising her hand and his. “This is why you can’t stay.”

She wasn’t crying, but it was a struggle.

“But I’m tired.”

“Why don’t you whine about it,” he said, delivering the line perfectly. “You’re the last of us.”

“I’m a fucking monster.”

“You hunt monsters. It’s not for you to decide. You’ve got a chance to kill our killer.” Kilen shook his head, determined air of the eldest brother taking over his face, his body. “You’re stronger than this.”

Stabbing pain. Blink. Angelus laughing. Blink.

Kilen was smiling at her now, almost proudly. The tune of the violin grew less frantic, less hurried. Sadder. Prettier. Firelight flickered. Kilen still held her hand.

“You’ve done amazing things for us already,: he said, the tone almost chiding. “You’re stronger than this. I won’t take ‘no’ for an answer.”

He sighed, smiling sadly. “And… you’re in love.”

Phaedra looked up quickly, ready to defend herself even now. Kilen stood in front of her now, hands holding both of hers. He smiled, that crooked, winning smile she hadn’t seen for 300 years.

“Personally,” her brother began, “I think he’s kind of a-“

“Hey!” Phaedra interrupted him, smacking one of his hands lightly. “Being tortured here. Could you not?”

Another smile. “Sorry.”

Kilen’s dark eyes clouded. “Little Bird…” he pulled back , hanging on to her hands now, just barely. “You got to go. I can hold you, but I can’t help you.”

He let go. Everything disappeared—the wagon, the firelight, the violin. Shifting. Refocused.

She was alone now.
And crying.

III. OPEN.

She was in the sanctuary.
It made sense, even though she hated the place. And how many times had she been thrown out?

“Not worth counting, cupcake,’ the green demon said.

She looked up, vaguely aware she was standing on the stage. Caritas. Phaedra sighed, shaking her head. Her clothes had changed again. She was clean-not bloody. Instead of her usual garb, Phaedra was wearing a flowing dress. Dress?

“uhm..”

“Don’t look at me. I’m not driving this thing. I’m only here cause you’re vibing all the way out to Jersey.”

The dress was thin, gauzy. Light blue. Thin straps held it up, and it hit her legs at mid-calf. Her feet were bare, like her arms. Phaedra suddenly wanted to cover up. She hated not being covered. She raised her head, pushing dark hair out of her face, and glared at Lorne.

He just looked at her, expectantly. “Well, sugar,” he said, looking at the glass of Sea Breeze in his hand, “they don’t call you Little Bird for giggles. Let’s have it.”

Phaedra looked out at the crowd. None of the faces were familiar. Who are you people?

Great, she thought. I’m not even playing to the right crowd.

“Sure you are, pumpkin,” the green demon said. He took a sip of his drink, crossing one leg under his café table. “Belt it out. They’ll hear you. These folks? These are all the lucky stiffs that can hear you, right now. You know how to do this, though, send the message on home.”

They’ll hear me?

Hand on the mic, Phaedra shut her eyes, concentrating. All of you… it’s so much worse than you think.

She opened her eyes, and she had to gasp. Now the faces were familiar. Some of them VERY familiar. Phaedra took a breath and started to sing… surprisingly well, voice clear, crisp, even calm. And she had a guitarist on stage, a drummer, all the right chords…

I feel my wings have broken in your hands
I feel the words unspoken inside
When they pull you under
And I would give you anything you want
Well all I wanted…
All my dreams have fallen down
Crawling around,
somebody save me
And two warm hands break right through me
Somebody save me
I don't care how you do it
Just stay
Stay
Come on
I've been waiting for you

I see the world has folded in your heart
I feel the waves crash down inside

And they pull me under
I would give you anything you want
Well all I wanted
And all my dreams have fallen down
Crawling around somebody save me
And two warm hands break right through me
Somebody save me
I don't care how you do it
Just stay
Stay
Come on
I've been waiting for you

And all my dreams are on the ground

Crawling around somebody save me
And two warm hands break right through me
Somebody save me
I don't care how you do it
Just save me

I've made this whole world shine for
Just stay
Stay
Come on
I'm still waiting for you…

Lorne applauded, standing out of his chair. Then he turned to the assembly. “Yeesh. Vampire convention?” he shrugged. “Long and the short of it, kids? Save her. From Angelus.”

Phaedra just stood on the stage, blinking. She dropped the mic to the floor, biting her lip, eyes raised with something like supplication or grief.

LINDSEY:
Lindsey drained his whiskey, putting the glass down and stepping out of the shadows. He walked slowly up to the stage, a soft smile on his face, clad in worn jeans and a washer-soft shirt.

"Oh, darlin'." He sighed, stepping up on to the stage, cupping her face in his hands. "How'd you get yourself here?"

PHAEDRA:
Phaedra almost fell off the stage.

She knew he had to have some kind of tie to magic, but... apparently Lindsey was stronger than she figured. AND taking a risk being here.

She looked up at him, smiling sadly. The look was one that fit her age."Wishful thinking. Even though I hate this place." she paused, voice catching. "I should've stayed," she said.

LINDSEY:
Lindsey chuckled softly.

"No arguin' here." He murmured, his thumbs gently stroking her cheeks, soft sigh as he looked at her.

"I dunno how long I can stay here." He murmured. "Ain't got much practice at this kinda thing." His accent was more pronounced, here; closer to how he was in her head, how he had been before Wolfram and Hart ironed out his voice, made him more acceptable to their clientele.

"I'm gonna find you, darlin'. Just hold on."

ANITA:
"We both will," I said as I looked up from my own drink. "Whatever it takes."

PHAEDRA:
"He's going to kill me," she said, voice still very close to jumping off the ledge. "And I can't even... the guy, the mark... he was drunk."

She turned her head. Anita would understand what that meant, if Lindsey didn't.

"Do I need to start talking about how much I hate this?"

Broken. Bleeding. Defenseless...

She laughed, bitterly. "I'm even in a goddamn dress."

LINDSEY:
Oh, Lindsey understood. He'd lived with Darla, had been up against vampires - or working with them - to understand what that meant.

"Yeah ya are." He murmured, his fingers gently slipping under the shoulderstrap, caressing pale skin. "Look pretty damn good in it, too." He smiled, leaning close and kissing her forehead sweetly.

"We're comin'. Just hold on, darlin'. For me?" The last words were too soft for anyone other than Phaedra too hear, Lindsey's voice a little too broken, a little too pleading to be entirely casual.

ANITA:
I half-smiled. "I know exactly how you feel, because I've been in this situation. Almost down to a T. So trust me when I say I will not let this go, and will not let you be alone in this. He planned this, Phae, he wanted you defenseless because otherwise he never could have gotten ahold of you."

"He hasn't beaten you as long as you hold on to yourself. We're coming for you...and for him."

PHAEDRA:
The comment from Lindsey got a glare and a smirk. The almost whispered after thought made her swallow. Hard.

"I know he planned it," she said. "I can feel it. It was too perfect, too choreographed."

Frustration went off of her in waves. If Lorne thought she was a billboard before....

ANITA:
"We need to find a way to get his soul back in him....because that's probably the only way to stop him. If it's necromancy, and seeing as how it's Morte D'amour it probably is, I can try to find it and link it back to him. Is there any other way?"

LINDSEY:
"We kill him." Lindsey's voice was hard as he turned to look at Anita, his eyes cold, and yet somehow burning with anger. But not at her.

ANITA:
My eyes met his, one cold anger to another. For once, we agreed.

"It's always an option."

PHAEDRA:
She wasn't going to tell them not to. Hell, she'd shoved a soul down Angelus's throat once already. Look where that'd gotten her.

She started to say just find me, and the words died in her throat. Something was... off. And then it was gone.

A slight panic pulse fled through Phaedra. She knew Saerian had been there. She hadn't even meant to include him in this. She cursed, once, with feeling, eyes darting downward to her bare feet.

ANITA:
I felt it, what made her shiver, and I knew I would never forget it. Gotcha, you bastard, I thought.

"Eyes back here, Phaedra" I said. "Can you tell me anything about where you are, so we can try and figure out where he brought you?"

LINDSEY:
Lindsey tilted Phaedra's chin up, looking down at her for a moment, his eyes going soft.

"As much as you can, darlin'. Even just smells, sounds. Anythin'll help us find you."

PHAEDRA:
Phaedra looked up from the floor, managing to focus on Anita's face.

She shut her eyes for a second. Ripping herself out of the dream she was in and going back wasn't easy, and wasn't pleasant.

"Water," she said. "I hear water. The ocean." She squeezed her eyes shut tighter. She saw her own blood, but they didn't need to know that. What was that going to help? "Place is falling apart," she said, fighting back reality to keep talking. "Grating's open, a window's shattered... Smells like dust and rubber."

And metal. Blood.

She opened her eyes, looking back at Anita.

LINDSEY:
Lindsey's hands stayed on her, fingers curling into her hair, warm and reassuring.

"Anything else?" He murmured softly, wanting to do nothing more than kiss her, distract her from the dream, from what was going on around her, in reality.

But they needed to know. Sounded like a warehouse down in the docks; but God knew how many of those there were.

PHAEDRA:
Part of her wanted to yell at him. Ask him how he could ask her to shut her eyes again and see what was really happening to her.

There was no yelling. The part that yelled? Phaedra was saving her up, for later. For Angelus. The angrier she got, the more she wanted to survive him.

She shut her eyes and saw the warehouse again. "Big barrels," she said, seeing them behind her eyes, lined up. Oil? She didn't know. But they were big as she was, at least. She wet her lower lip, aware suddenly of a pain that went with it. She pushed it away, not willing to realize what Angelus might've done if he'd already split her lip. "Rope. Coils of rope."

She tilted her head, and something akin to terror ran through her, right down the middle. That broken window was close to where she was. And there was... "Sunlight," she said, opening her eyes.

Her voice dropped, and she tried to sound apathetic. "Beams of sunlight. Through the broken window."

LINDSEY:
Lindsey could see the fear in her eyes, knowing it was reflected in his own.

Giving in, he pulled her close, kissing her softly, brow furrowed in something like pain.

"I'm gonna find you." He promised, voice quiet. "Just hold on, darlin'."

PHAEDRA:
He'll make it take forever.

She wasn't as scared as she could've been. Fire would've been scarier. Sunlight Phaedra could survive-- in small doses.

She didn't think about the fact that Angelus knew that. She just didn't.

Instead, she let Lindsey hold her, kiss her, wondering how much of this she was doing herself. Her head, right? Was she remembering things this well, or was the link vivid enough that she could feel his heartbeat?

"Holding," she said, looking up at him.

LINDSEY:
"That's my girl." He smiled a little, though he couldn't hide the worry in his eyes. He brushed her hair back from her face, taking the chance to look at her, enjoy her in the dress even if she hated wearing it.

PHAEDRA:
"Should've known you'd find vulnerable, subconscious me in a dress a turn on."

She managed a laugh.

She blinked, and she was in the warehouse. Blinked again, she was back looking at Lindsey.

Her mouth dropped. "There's someone else there, besides him. A woman. There were two, now there's one."

She sighed, voice coming a little too fast, as if she were afraid she'd forget the details.

"She's got an accent," Phaedra said. "She's... she sounds like... Faith."

Faith might not remember their meeting, but Phaedra did. Point to her.

LINDSEY:
"The slayer Faith?" He asked, brows raised slightly in surprise. God, he hoped he remembered all this. He didn't know what this was; a dream, a vision, some kind of connection left over from his and Phaedra's telepathic conversations...

PHAEDRA:
She nodded. "Boston accent, right? Hits things? We've met."

She said the last sentence like she was spitting something out of her mouth. The distaste was obvious in her voice. Definitely hadn't gotten along with Faith. Neither had Anita, for that matter.

Well, that was only going to continue...

LINDSEY:
Well this night just kept getting better and better.

"So Faith's with Angelus. Any chance she's tied up with you? Or has the rogue slayer returned to her sordid roots?"

PHAEDRA:
Phaedra shook her head. "I don't see her," she said, voice getting tired. "I just hear her."

And finally, the frustration was getting the better of her. Like a child, she stomped her foot. A slight growl came out of her, and her hands were suddenly sliding up either side of her face, through her hair. Then, as soon as that was done, she was composed again.

"I may be frustrated," she said, slight sad smile on her face.

LINDSEY:
Lindsey chuckled.

"Yeah, gettin' that." He murmured. "Just hold on to that feelin', darlin'. Keep angry, k?" He knew that's what would keep Phaedra going, keep her fighting. As long as she was angry at Angelus, she'd be fine.

"I'm gonna find ya, honey." He kissed her again, pulling back just a little, forehead against hers as he closed his eyes. "Promise."

PHAEDRA:
"You really don't need to tell me to stay angry," she said. "I'm hanging from a ceiling."

She just shut her eyes, leaning on Lindsey.

It was her mind, right? She was going to enjoy where she was. Even if she understood what her being here meant: that things were so bad where her body was she had to separate from them completely.

LINDSEY:
Lindsey chuckled, sliding his arms around her deceptively slender body. Everyone else could go hang for all he cared. Dream or not, he had Phaedra in his arms right now. His fingers combed through her hair, lips against her temple as he hugged her tightly, wishing he was holding her for real.

PHAEDRA:
Phaedra just stayed in the hug.

Until someone tapped her shoulder.

Phaedra stood straight, and turned.

Her brother was standing there.

"Can I cut in?" he asked, eyes playful, arms crossed.

Phaedra's jaw dropped a little as she looked at him.

"This isn't good," she said, though she smiled at Kilen. Her attention went back to Lindsey. "I think this means I can't keep this up much longer."

Kilen just nodded. "So get to the part where the big brother gets a hug."

LINDSEY:
Lindsey smiled, letting his arms fall away.

"Be my guest." He murmured, though he stole one last, soft kiss. "I'm comin' for ya, darlin'. Right now." He stepped away, walked off the stage, his eyes never leaving hers as he faded into the crowd, and then into nothingness.
______________________________________________________________

NIKS:
There was a soft whistle, something akin to a "what the fuck" but only in a few blown notes.

"Bloody hell." It wasn't Spike, too feminine a voice. The figure looked true, ebbed truth if someone could do so with a look, specially wearing the basic tee and jeans. "I don't know what's going on, but can't be good if I got picked up."

She looked over the trio, and then at the rest of the crowd, before giving a slight nod to the MC. Truth shared. She looked back up at the trio, focusing on the main star of tonight's events.

"Angelus, mm? On it, Lil' Bird." For the moment, it was like the woman knew everything about Phaedra, maybe - every truth, every lie; they all were in her headspace after all. It didn't matter; it wouldn't be there when the English woman woke up - just the Angelus and someone in big trouble. She more or less blipped out as she had more important things to do.

SAERIAN:
He was in the back, leaning on the bar. A pint of Guiness hung in his right hand, cigarette at his lips.

He smirked. Phaedra always could sing, he mused to himself, squinting his eyes against some smoke.

He got a glimpse of his hand... and it wasn't his hand. Well, not Sean's, anyway.

"Huh," he muttered. "Oh. Right. Her house, her rules."

He knew without looking that he was wearing a dark hood, flowing down over his shoulders. He knew without looking that his body was his old body, the one he'd inhabited when he turned her. He was her memory of him, and it wasn't half as flattering as the body he'd picked for himself. It was the old man, the old man with the fierce and dead eyes.

Saerian downed the rest of his drink, leaning on the bar. He wasn't staying. As a matter of fact...

In the blink of an eye, he was gone. Probably no one even saw him.

DAWN:
Dawn had no idea how she came to be in the club, or why she was there in the first place, but it felt sort of right so she went with it. 'Went' being the relative term as she actually didn't go anywhere, just sat in a booth at the back, watching people go by. Some of them looked kind of familiar... like the short, dark-haired woman by the stage. She'd seen her before.

Right. Anita.

Was this a dream?

Dawn shrugged to herself. If it was a dream, there was nothing she could do about it. But why was she dreaming about Anita? No, stuff was definitely getting weird. She leaned back in the seat, noticing for the first time the outfit she was wearing - a long, black velvet dress with long, tapered sleeves and a low, square neck. Why would her subconscious dress her in a medieval Halloween outfit?

Weird.

ANITA:
I looked away from Phaedra, letting Lindsey handle it. He was way better at calming her down, at this point nothing else I could do would help. There weren't too many familiar faces in here for me, but...there. The girl in the corner, Buffy's little sister. She must have some powers that got her drawn into this.

Somehow I knew what she was thinking...ahh, the beauty of dream communication. I spoke to her, knowing my words would carry across the roomk and reach the ears they were intended for, "It's not just your dream here. In a way, this is as real as what's going on outside the bar."

DAWN:
Dawn hears a voice, and turns towards it. It's Anita, and even though she's across the room, Dawn can hear her perfectly. Of course, it's a dream. Rules don't apply. Of course, most rules don't even apply in the real world, if you know what's what. But still.

"I know it's not my dream," she says, pulling at the cuff of her old-fashioned sleeve. "I mean, no offense, but why would I dream about you?" But her curiosity is piqued, and Anita seems to know what's going on, so Dawn asks outright.

"What is this?"

ANITA:
I nodded my head towards Phaedra, still in Lindsey's arm but more composed now.

"It's her dream. Her type of vampire has the power to project dreams to all who are receptive to supernatural powers. Why you're in a frou-frou Ren Faire dress, I have no idea. But then, it's her dream and she has no idea why she's in a dress either. Must be some metaphysical symbolism crap." Luckily, I was still clad in my black jeans, t shirt, and leather jacket. Some things you don't mess with, or I would mess right back. I had enough of that crap when Jean-Claude dressed me up for meetings where we had to impress people. I may never recover from the strappy black heels.

DAWN:
"I don't know her," Dawn says slowly, her eyes looking over the pale girl in the handsome man's arms. It was all kind of romantic, in an old-fashioned movie sort of way. Except for her stupid dress, of course. "Why would I be in her dream if I don't know her? I mean, I'm not receptive or whatever. I'm just the Slayer's sister."

She looks with longing at Anita's normal street clothes, then tugs at the sleeve some more. She doesn't get any of this, but it's a dream, so maybe she's not supposed to.

"If it's a dream, does that mean I can drink?" she asks suddenly. If she's not allowed to try alcohol in reality, she should be able to in a dream. It was only a dream, right?

ANITA:
I shrugged. "Well, apparently you have some magic in you, kid. Otherwise you wouldn't be here." I had no idea what that magic was, and I didn't want to know. I was already too involved with this crew here for my own liking.

"I'm not your mom or your sister. If the dream lets you have a fake drink, I say go for it. It's your life. But remember to tell Buffy that we need her help, if you see her. Though I think I saw Willow, talk to her too. We need to know about re-ensouling a vampire. She would know, right?"

DAWN:
"I-I don't have magic." Dawn blinks, raising her eyebrows. She's just Dawn Summers, weird, skinny Dawn Summers with the freaky older sister and the dead mom, the girl who can't get a date to save her life. She isn't magic.

She looks around, spotting Willow's red hair across the club, but then Tara leans into her and they disappear together. "She would, yeah," she says absently. "They did it before. Why, who'd-" Then she pauses, sleepy dream-self remembering. The desire for an illicit drink is gone.

"Oh, crap," she says tiredly. "Not again."
_________________________________________________________________

TARA:
Where was she? Why was she here?

Tara looked up at the stage singing going on. She glanced down at her arms, bared and... scaly, kind of orange. Her eyes widened. What was happening? She looked over and thought she had seen Dawnie there.

There where?

Where was this?

Tara was at the bar and she turned to look at the mirror. What looked back at her wasn't... her. Yet it was. She blinked. Fang protruded from her mouth, horns had sprouted from her still blond hair...

... she was a demon.

"No..." she breathed, shaking her head. "No." She clawed at her skin and her hair.

Then she blinked... and she was back to Tara. Her own skin, her own clothes. But she was still at the bar - the singing continuing. She looked up and around.

WILLOW:
Willow was about as lost as Tara, and luckily for the blonde witch, the red head hadn't caught the momentary transformation; she was still coming into focus. She settled into a comfortable lean against her sweetie. It wasn't until she took Tara's hand that she felt more...there. Her body back in the Summers' house wasn't as distracting now. She leaned a little closer to her girlfriend, her brows furrowing. At least the music was nice.

"There won't be any men with cheese, will there?" spoken as softly as possible. Or unexpected theatrical productions. When had she fallen asleep? The music stopped, and things started to make with the dramatic. Her fingers tightened on Tara's when she caught a name she wasn't expecting.

"Angelus?"

TARA:
"No, sweetie. No men with cheese." She looked around, people, places, things familiar yet not. Something didn't feel right here, and Tara shivered, despite the warmth she felt from Willow's hand.

"I hope there's no singing..." Tara looked at Willow. "I'm not very good at it." She squeezed the witch's hand tightly. "We shouldn't be here. Let's go." She leaned in, kissing Willow on the temple then willed the both of them gone.

Poof.
______________________________________________________

PANDORA:
Pandora hadn't even been in Sunnydale for an entire day when she was called to this...incredibly random place. If it hadn't been for her curiousity at just who was responsible for making such a strong call, she wouldn't have bothered showing up at all. As it was, she was already regretting not just ignoring the whole situation. She took a brief moment to scan over the room, hoping for a few recognizable faces. It was quite the mix in attendance; a mix that Pandora wasn't really a fan of.

Her brilliant plan of lying low for a while until she got a better feel for the inhabitants of Sunnydale was being completely spoiled by this event and she was less than pleased. Well, if she hadn't been sensed by the others already, she was sure to be known now.

She gave a quick roll of her eyes with an accompanying sigh of frustration before disappearing. Pandora was not in the mood to make new acquaintances just yet.

PHAEDRA:
Phaedra looked up, not really ready to move away from Lindsey but feeling...

... like she'd been punched in the stomach. By years.

Old vampires, really old vampires, felt like that. Their age could bury you.

She searched the crowd, finding a face she'd never seen. Pretty, young in human years.

And she was NOT happy.

Phaedra raised an eyebrow. My apologies, she thought, directing it toward the dark haired vampire in the back of the room. Pain made me lose focus.

She nodded at the vampire, with a degree of respect that would probably shock Lindsey and Anita.

DAVID:
One moment he had been kneeling on the hard-packed dirt floor of a jungle bohío, plucking feathers from a recently slaughtered chicken as the lilting murmur of Maria Fatumbi's prayers carressed his eardrums, and the next he was sitting at a small table in a bar, a crystal decanter of single-malt scotch in his left hand. His leather-bound Talamasca journal lay open on the table, his favorite old blue fountain pen resting in a diagonal across the white surface of the page as if he had just set it down.

The words written there in his tight, neat script were blurry around the edges, and he reached to bring the notebook closer to his face to see better. He noticed his hands then, covered with brown sun spots that splattered across his hands and disappearing under the sleeve of his dapper and dignified Oxxford suit. He was himself again, and he felt again the heaviness of an old man permeate his body.

He felt tired as he looked up to the front of the room at the vampire there in a blue dress. That he knew she was vampire didn't strike him as odd. He knew where he was, and he was amazed that she had been powerful enough to call all of them here.

He focused on the words written before him, squinting his eyes and wondering why he didn't have his reading glasses. He reached down to find the pragmatic spectacles in his right breast pocket, he chuckled out loud.

Angelus, 1753, Scourge of Europe.

The words made only passing sense to him, but he didn't expect them to. This was her world, and he was only a passive visitor, an old man sitting in the shadows enjoying an evening out. He watches.

JESSE:
esse was sure that only moments ago, she had been in Sunnydale. Now it seemed she had been drawn into a shared vision, but why did it have to be a bar? She heard the end of the song and thought, 'Oh yes, that's why'. In that moment, she understood about Lorne, she understood it all. This must have been how Maharet and Mekare felt when they communicated so long ago, in the forests of their home.

She thought calming thoughts at the poor vampire huddled on the stage, clasped in the arms of a human. Poor little bird. Jesse would do what she needed to help. For all that she kept herself separated from humankind and her fellow vampires most of the time, she had a caring heart and could never turn away an injured soul in search of care.

She tore her gaze from the tableau on stage, and faced David. She had not seen him since he had fled in the face of Buffy's neediness, but she wasn't surprised to find herself at his table in the dream. Dreams had a way of doing things like that. They put you where you needed to be. She slid an arm around his shoulder, curious as to what he had to say here, in this world.

DAVID:
David turned his head and noticed Jesse was there, where he hadn't seen her before. It was difficult getting accustomed to the rules in a dream world. He felt suddenly self-conscious of his body: the deep wrinkles along his brow, his steel gray hair and knobbly, swollen knuckles.

How vain he had become since his transformation! How Lestat would laugh at him now. Remembering Lestat, he looked around, hoping to see his Maker among the assembled. He should be here, he was the most powerful vampire among them, he should be able to pick this up.

We're not supposed to be here. The thought came into his head by its own volition and it startled him, the voice sounded so familiar, he knew it immediately. He turned, pushing his glasses from the bridge of his nose, expecting to see a flash of cafe au lait skin and cat's green eyes, but finding nothing among the forms draped over bar stools and leading against the wall.

"Did you hear her?" He asked Jesse, unaware of the fragile, taut sound of his voice. His eyes were watering, his lower back ached terribly. Oh what a cruelty to return him to this prison, he had been trying so hard to escape.

___________________________________________________________________

ANGEL:
Angel had no body. Technically, he didn't even have a soul. Despite these two very large shortcomings, he found his place in the karaoke lounge without incident, especially under the circumstances that he was the one holding Phaedra captive, and claimed a stool at the bar.

He didn't need to watch, or even to listen. He was there. Faith, Phaedra, Angelus, and floating somewhere in the ether, watching it all, Angel. Now he was here, getting a small reprieve from the Faith/Angelus sex show that made his stomach turn.

If anyone had asked, they obviously didn't know who he was or what he was supposed to look like back in the real world. No one asked. If they had, he would have told them he was simply from out of town.

PHAEDRA:
Kilen had disappeared shortly after his hug. And she was sure, still, that was a bad sign. Losing control of this, probably.

She'd stepped off the stage, finally, bare feet careful on the floor, arms hugged to herself. So odd. She didn't even recognize half of these people, still... but Lorne said those who needed to hear it were hearing it. Seeing it. Feeling it.

She stopped in her tracks, seeing someone in front of her that she hadn't expected.

"Are you retreating, too?" Her voice was softer than she expected. Everything about her was softer here.

ANGEL:
"I'm not sure," he told her honestly, lowering his head to look at the counter. Anyone else that had done it, someone normal, might have saw themselves looking back up in the well polished sheen. Not Angel. "I--I don't think I have a lot of time left."

Turning on the stool, resting one elbow on the bar, he waved for a drink. The tender didn't notice him, which was probably a blessing. Putting his had down when he realized that he wasn't even going to be able to get drunk properly, only then did he actually look at Phaedra.

"Well, you're wearing a dress and I'm decked out in white. Someone had a sense of humor when they put this together."

PHAEDRA:
Phaedra nodded. "I don't have a lot of time left, either. When your dead relatives start showing up, it's closing time."

She sat on the bar stool next to him, face more than a little sad.

"The sense of humor is mine, I think," she said, almost laughing. "Apparently I'm soft on the inside. And apparently I always knew you weren't the bad guy."

She looked down at her lap, hands still hugged to her sides. "If I didn't know that before, I know now."

She smirked, after another second. "I spit in his face."

The bartender walked over, stopping in front of Angel and looking at him expectantly.

ANGEL:
"Nothing like dreaming on borrowed time." When she sat down, he turned again on the stool, facing front. Looking at her only made things more difficult. At least he couldn't see what he might have been doing to her back in the real world when he was here. For that, he was thankful.

"You? A sense of humor? You're on a roll, because I think I'm the bad guy myself. I've got you, well, I think you know this better than I do, but you're not looking so good back there. You sending in the reinforcements?"

He couldn't help but grin when she told him the part about spitting at Angelus. "I saw." When the bartender came, Angel couldn't find the words to tell him what he wanted to drink. Maybe something here wouldn't let him. He'd only want something strong, and to do that was to feel. Feelings weren't allowed right now.

"Are they going to make it?"

PHAEDRA:
Phaedra gave him a pretty evil grin, all things considered. She might be Little Bird, in her head, but Phaedra the assassin was still home.

"Look around," she said. "This place is packed with power. I don't know how I did this. But your counterpart is about to have the calvary rain down on his head."

Phaedra sighed, resting a head on her hand, palm up. "Witches, vampires, one hell of an angry cowboy...He's getting everything but the fucking kitchen sink thrown at him."

Are they going to make it?

Well, hell. "I don't know if they're going to make it. I don't know how long he's going to let me live."

ANGEL:
"Long enough." It was only an assumption, but based on the point upon which he had checked out, Angelus seemed to be pretty busy. Lindsey could have gone and gotten all of his cowboy friends and probably would have still made it in time for the final show.

Watching how she could go from a mischievous smirk to leaning against her palm like that, Angel was amazed that this was the same person that had managed to kick his ass time and time again. "I'm sure you've been getting this all night, but has anyone ever told you that you look kind've nice in a dress?"

PHAEDRA:
Phaedra smirked, and the smirk became a giggle fit.

She drew herself up, until she was sitting, back straight, and turned her head to look at Angel. "You're the second one to say it," she said. "But my brother thought it, too."

She looked down at the dress. Hey, as far as dresses went, it wasn't awful. It wasn't pink. It wasn't frilly. But she was still annoyed with herself for this being the outfit of choice. Granted, asking for help while looking fragile probably got more bites than asking while dressed like a dominatrix.

"Gestena." At the same time she said it, she thought the word's English equivalent: thank you.

She blinked, and inadvertantly sent herself back to reality...

You always did like the guys that could hurt you.

"Buffy's there," she said, eyes opening slowly, voice very low, almost a whisper. "Is that good or bad?"

ANGEL:
"Hey, no need to thank me. He and I are just saying what everyone else is thinking. Maybe you should get drugged and tortured more often," he nodded, wondering if that meant that she'd wear dresses instead of all the leather. They were becoming of her. Though, that was true of almost anything. Phaedra could wear anything and still look like a million bucks.

Despite the joke, Angel couldn't find it in himself to manage a laugh or a smile.

"Buffy?" It was his turn to sit up straight, unsure of why Phae had to ask if Buffy showing up was good or not. "It depends if she's there for you or for me. Didn't you just talk to everyone? Maybe she was the closest when she got the call?"

PHAEDRA:
She half-glared at him for the comment. "I'll pass."

"Lindsey and Anita are already on their way," she said, trying to be calm and rational. She left out the part about both of them wanting to stake Angelus.

"I'm not sure who-or what- told Buffy what's going on," Phaedra said. "That might not work in the favor of either of us... I didn't just get good guys with this, Angel."

She remembered Saerian being there and fought back a shudder.

ANGEL:
"That's probably for the best." Not even the glare was enough to break him from the trance. There was a reason people said he loved to brood, and this was probably the perfect time to be doing it. Stuck inside of a dream, unable to return to reality to fight back against Angelus.

Getting sent to Hell had been better than this. The longer they sat and talked, the closer that got.

Nodding slowly, as if it took him a while to process the words, he asked, out of the blue, "What do you think happens to people like us when we die?" If Buffy was there, he'd be dying any minute now...

PHAEDRA:
"I haven't given it much thought," she admitted. "If I thought about it too much, I think I'd snap. I've focused on surviving for so long I don't know how to stop."

She was right.

As a mortal, she'd believed in God. She still did... she still even crossed herself at times. But she couldn't justify her actions. She knew it. Phaedra didn't need to retreat into herself to know she was a monster, and that her death count was higher than some minor wars.

Heaven and hell blurred around the edges once she'd lost her family, though.

Dark hair fell across her face as she turned herself around on the stool, watching the other vampires, the other beings in the bar. "I don't think we get harps, that much I can tell you."

ANGEL:
Angel kept facing the wall lined with multicolored bottles, all of them reflecting light, none of them reflecting him. Finally, after a long period of stillness and silence, he placed one hand over the other and turned his head slightly to view her.

"That'd get old after a while, anyway. At this point, I think I'd welcome the warmth without caring so much. Either way, it's better than not feeling at all."

Realm of hellfire and brimstone, realm of clouds and rainbows, either way sat well with him. His biggest fear was an eternity of nothingness. A black, endless void of space where he'd be left forever with his thoughts. Being tortured to within what felt like inches of your life sounded more fun than that possibility.

"Want me to come back and tell you when I find out? Now there's a thought."

PHAEDRA:
Phaedra raised an eyebrow. "Did that once, didn't you?"

She could hear them talking, Faith, Buffy, and Angelus. She was finding it harder and harder to tune them out. At least they were preoccupied with each other.

As for the rest, she just shook her head and sighed. "I'm not ready to check out yet. At all. Angelus has his work more than cut out for him." Phaedra paused, grinning, eyes going hard for a second. "I'm not even going to scream."

She looked at Angel, actually looking at him for once without menace or undercurrent of hatred. "If I survive this," she said, voice very even, but still soft, "and we can't get you back where you're supposed to be, I'll kill him myself."

ANGEL:
"This is one of those moments where I should feel oddly comforted by what you just said, isn't it?" While she was able to grin and show amusement, and quite able to pull that dress off without really even trying, he remained stoic. Up until now, he couldn't place the unsettling feeling that had taken over him, and assumed it had something to do with how he was dressed or possibly getting noticed.

Her last comment finally brought the picture into focus. Phaedra kept referring to Angelus as "him" and "he." Not "you," which was usually more common with people, including himself. He couldn't feel anything because he wasn't really there. It was a "he." Angelus had somehow been separated when Angel got sucked into the dream world of less-than-casual dress.

He'd never really had this much time to think while soulless before. It made sense, at least to him, why he felt so dead inside. Or at least more dead than usual.

"Just don't let Lindsey do it, and I promise I won't haunt you."

PHAEDRA:
The thought of Lindsey facing Angelus made her stomach knot in a very, very human way.

"He won't get near him if I can help it," she said.

Then there was a bitter laugh. "I understood my choice of profession, my personality, everything. Until I came out here. Until demons started playing with my destiny. Until..."

If it weren't a dream, this would never happen. Ever. "I understand you better now than I did the last time I saw you," Phaedra said. "Much better."

One eyebrow arched during her last sentence, then fell. Her gaze went to the floor. And she was pretty sure that in the back of her head, she heard Angelus laughing.

the sky is bleeding above me and i am blistered/ gj post date 11.23.07

Wed, 09 Jan 2008 04:33:23 GMT

BELLA:

There were a dozen cons of being kidnapped and really.. no pros, whatsoever. None that she could see, aside that she had a lot of time to think. Mainly spent on how her life had been changed into something of a dream. Not a nightmare, but an unimaginable dream. This was something to kill for.

In Arizona, if someone had told her she was going to target for imminent danger, fall head over heels for a vampire, and then die, she wouldn't have laughed in their face. She would have wondered if they'd been reading her mother's stash of horror novels and then gotten the hell out of there.

All dreams have to come to an end. This closing wasn't quite what she would have picked. And still, for some reason that must have been abnormal, she considered herself blessed to a degree. She wouldn't swap what had happened since she'd come to Sunnydale with anyone. You can only be sheltered for so long, after all.

It was bizarre, meeting death point blank in the eye. How does one meet death, anyhow? Quietly, like she was? Or was she supposed to go out screaming? Was this almost suicidal of her? Many people, she supposed, didn't just surrender to the fact they were going to die. Not so easily. Bella may have been more accepting than should be humanly possible, but she wasn't necessarily calm about it. Inside of her, there was battling conflict.

Time was precious.

She would never again disregard the generosity of every second she was given. There was just so much she hadn't covered in life. So much she hadn't been able to experience. So much she had taken for granted. She would miss several things in life. Miss her family, miss the ground underneath her bare feet and the sun warming her skin, miss getting lost in topaz eyes and crooked smiles that stole her breath.

Bella tried to surround herself with those thoughts, instead of looking down. If she looked down, she would probably be sick. There were too many stories underneath her. The tower was a cold contrast to memories that gave her fuzzy feelings. Hence why she wasn't thinking about it.

She'd kissed a vampire before she died.

Bella: 1, Life: 58,406.

That would have made her smile, had it not been for the impending death. Her heartbeats were numbered. As far as the blonde thing - 'Glorificous', 'All Glorious One' were the names she kept hearing - was concerned. She couldn't cheat death. Not by a long shot. Her luck had to crap out sometime.

The blackened sky was unwelcoming, enveloping her in chilly arms. The wind whipped once at her hair. One tear blurred her vision, slipping warm down her cool cheek. One tear she allowed herself to spare and not even for herself.

It was for what she was leaving behind.

GLORY:
Glory climbed the rest of the way up to the top of the tower, having told her minions she'd see them in hell. Literally. If they made it through. The goddess herself didn't honestly care about them. All she cared about was going home. And to do that, she had only to bleed her key dry.

She walked along the platform, not seeming to notice how rickety the structure was. "Well here we are, kid." She moved around so she stood in front of Bella, and grinned. "You should feel honored, because you're helping me go home." A glance was given off the edge, before she studied the girl's face.

"Aww, don't cry. It'll all be over soon. It doesn't take that long to bleed you enough for the portal to open. And I can kill you as I go through, so there won't be any more pain, okay?" She gave a wink. "Feel free to scream. Aint no one coming to save you."

BELLA:
Caught in the crossfire was mildly put, when speaking of Bella's predicament.

Logically, everything was very much not in Bella's favor, thus why she assumed she was going to die. Her intuition told her Glory wasn't going to be happy when there were no portals opening. The chances that she would let Bella come out this unscathed or even alive once she saw her blood was just that: blood, red and nauseating and completely human, was.. well.. There was no chance, actually.

Her heart slammed against her chest, once the blonde face was in view. Time was running out. Like a sand glass. Every grain of sand that fell was another sliver of hope she lost. She'd gotten the feeling Glory wasn't patient to join.. to join Hell from what she had overheard.

The queasiness in her stomach jumped to her throat. She ignored the aching of her arm that had been forced from its sling so she could be bound, glared petulantly up at the god, very close to gritting her teeth together. "For the last time," and it might literally be the last, "I don't open anything. Doors, portals, nada." Could you reason with a God? Highly doubtful. Here was for trying and failing.

Staring down the barrel of a gun. It was just as much fun as the phrase made it out to be.

Which was... um, none.

It was too bad Glory had gotten Bella all dressed up in a silly ritual dress for nothing.

GLORY:
She smirked at the words, studied her nails for a moment, then backhanded the girl. Not hard enough to break skin and make her bleed, of course, but hard enough to bruise. "Blah blah blah...that's all I'm hearing. You don't even know what it is you do, little girl." The blonde God leaned in and smiled brilliantly. "Hope you've made your peace, or whatever it is you humans do. Because I'm about to unmake you."

"Now. Shallow cuts to bleed you dry..." She lifted the knife, then slowly slid the edge along Bella's cheek, drawing a thin stream of blood. "Mmm, I bet you're just a tasty little morsel, aren't you?" The knife was lifted to her lips, and with her eyes on the girl's, Glory's tongue ran along the edge, lapping up a small taste.

She then narrowed her eyes as anger grew. "What the hell..?" She spat it back in the girl's cheek, then grabbed her by the throat. "You're not the Key! What the hell kind of game is this?" The knife was raised almost absently. Mostly, though, Glory was just thinking of tossing the kid off the tower. Make things easier all around. "Where is it?"

BELLA:
She had that queasy sensation in her stomach that would not subside. Suspense, probably. It hadn't had to be developed over time - it had happened the instant Ben had been replaced with Glory in that hospital room. And had worsened with time.

If Bella had ever made an enemy, it was Glory. And if she had ever hated anyone? It was definitely Glory. And she really, really got on Bella's nerves. "You know, Zeus listened more than you do," she snapped recklessly, her voice managing to be irate despite the oncoming knife.

The assault was inevitiable. Bella tasted her own blood, as metal slid into her cheek. Shallow, but enough to make her see doubles of everything. Bella hated blood. She really, really hated her own. But she didn't feel the pain, at least not yet.

Mmm, I bet you're just a tasty little morsel, aren't you?

Edward had worded that so much more classier. Glory looked more like a crow circling fresh and free meat. And -- well, crap.

She had the urge to say I told you so and stick out her tongue, but she guessed that was first on the list of Do-Not's with Hell Gods. Plus, there was the whole having her windpipe crushed by hands of what felt like steel.

"Can't -- answer," she rasped out as she struggled for breath, thinking Glory should honestly know that. After all, she was the one choking her. She knew her two fates: Either, she would be gutted or thrown from the tower. She wondered - and didn't know quite how, considering her head was swimming - whether it would hurt or not. Whether she would die upon impact with the ground, or have to wait impatiently for death to come.

Couldn't Glory get it over with already? Before she fainted from lack of oxygen?

SPIKE:
Spike was close to growling.

It'd only been a few days since Buffy. Buffy. God. He still couldn't get the feel of her off of his hands. And if he shut his eyes for too long, he could damn near feel...

...not right now.

She'd had eight missed calls. Voicemail was the batsignal for the scoobies. Things with Tara were moved from bad to worse.

Tonight was the night for helping her.

Spike was headed there now.

Only.... okay. When did that huge sodding tower get there?

Spike furrowed his eyebrows, stopping in his tracks, and looking up at the thing. Rickety. Wrong. And a feeling was building in his stomach, an uneasy feeling.

"It's time," someone said, walking past him, brushing against him. Spike turned, face angry.

"Hey! Watch where you're..."

His words died in his throat.

Four other people milled around, too, saying the same thing.

Spike swallowed. "What's it time for? Miller time?"

"It's time. She's here. The Key."

Spike's eyes darted back up to the tower. Outline of a girl, small, and of someone else up there... "Jesus sodding Christ," he said.

Five seconds later, and much to the irritation of the small group of Glory's brain-sucked minions, Spike had hopped over the fence between him and the tower and started running toward it.

No plan. Not a thought in his head. Not really. Just that if Glory was up there, with Dawn...

He stopped. Wind blew, and the scent he caught smacked him in the face. Spike closed his eyes. This was so much worse than it was five minutes ago. Dawn wasn't here. He had no idea where Dawn was. And up atop that tower was...

"... Hell's Bell's," Spike said. His eyes opened, and they were a little too wide. He set his jaw.

He started running again. It wasn't far.

DAWN:
Tired screeched over asphalt, filling the air with the smell of rubber, as Riley pulled the car up to the chain link fence. There was no gate for them to drive through, but there was a narrow opening, large enough for a medium-sized person to squeeze through.

Someone Dawn's size.

The tower loomed above them, nearly swaying, even though there was no breeze. The night was cold and still. The rickety structure looked imposing, unbalanced. Threatening. Dawn swallowed, her mouth dryer than the desert surrounding them. She turned to look at her companions, trying to keep the worry and fear out of her face. But considering who she was with, she knew they probably saw right through here.

Oh, well. That was the least of her worries.

"Remember what I told you," she said, her voice nearly a whisper. "Please, just... stay in the car unless there's trouble. Lilah's here. Everything will be fine. I promise." In the dark, her eyes moved from Riley's face to Edward's, and back. "Please."

Then she was out of the car, the door slamming behind her, but she was already on the other side of the fence, running as fast as she could towards the tower. People tried to stop her, reaching out for her, their fingers grazing her sleeves, but she was too fast, the fear and desperation giving her adrenaline-fueled speed and agility. At the base of the tower, she paused, looked up, then kicked off her flip-flops and started to climb.

She was breathless as she practically vaulted over the last steps and onto the narrow, wavering platform. The girl she assumed to be Bella had her back to her, and Glory... Glory was looking right at her, over Bella's shoulder, holding a bloody knife in one hand and Bella's throat in the other.

Was she too late?

But, no. Bella was alive. She was breathing, barely. Dawn took a slow, cautious step along the platform, coming to stand just behind Bella. It was cold, in her boxer shorts and UC Sunnydale sweatshirt (she really wished she'd had time to change) but she didn't feel it.

"She's not the Key," she said softly. "I am."

EDWARD:
Driving with Riley Finn was interesting. Edward would, had he said that aloud, have meant that in the sarcastic way. Of course, not being the driver in general made the vampire very out of sorts, and he just kept his mouth shut the entire ride, trying not to think about what could be happening to Bella and warning Riley once of a cop's presence on a side street as they sped past.

He gaped when he saw the tower. He almost pressed his face against the glass of the car door. Bella was up THERE?

Everything will be fine. Stay in the car.... Edward felt the anger rising in his chest and he managed not to glare at Dawn. But he couldn't stop his mouth.

"Dawn..... this is crazy," he said.

And she was off like a shot. Edward watched her, hand on the door, ready to push it open, watched her run through the people he knew were crazy (thoughts were so nonsensical he'd be laughing if he didn't know how these people had become that way), watched their hands reach for her, and thought of reaching out his own hand to her.

A voice that shook with worry and anger spoke to Riley, and Edward didn't recognize it as his own at first. "She's... you know I can't sit here, right?"

He smiled, and gave a short laugh. He saw Dawn climbing the tower, and as she got to the top, the hair on the back of his neck stood up. The static in his head, the static that was other people's thoughts, it changed.

The whisper came back.

...wish there'd been time to change......... too late?

A bloody knife, too. And then......... She's not the key, I am.

"Riley," Edward said, giving the name weight and form and it's own resonance. "She's going to get herself killed, and I'm not going to sit here and watch."

He popped the door open and took off through the fence after Dawn.

Spike was starting to run again as Dawn started to climb, and he called after her. She didn't hear him.

Edward did.

Hell's Bells.

The run stopped, and Edward's eyes panned from the top of the tower to the vampire in front of him and then back up. "How fast can you climb, Spike?"

Spike stared. "What the..."

"No time. Answer faster."

"Look you git, I dunno who you think you..."

Edward rolled his eyes and shoved Spike, hard. "Hell's Bells. You fixed her car. And you're Dawn's friend, so you're in a very similar situation to mine. So get out of the way or start climbing after them."

It was a growl. And Spike moved on the push. He was a little shocked. "You... you're... like the pixie. Like Alice. Yeah, okay. Climb, superman, climb," he said, disdain evident. "We'll do the attitude problem thing after."

Edward started forward. Spike changed his mind. Sod it, no we won't.

"There isn't time," Edward spat, already starting up the tower. Spike thought of slugging him. Edward saw it. "Stay there, please. I can get up there faster and you know it."

Spike crossed his arms and sulked.

LILAH:
Lilah sat on a roof within view of the top of the tower, but not so close that she would be noticed by, well, anyone. Beside her stood a video camera on a tripod, zoomed in to perfectly frame the players in tonight's show. In her lap sat a large book, straight from the Archaic Records department of the LA branch of WH, open to the spell that she had told Dawn would close the portal. Gold flecked hazel eyes skimmed the passage once again, before she glanced up in time to see the hell goddess cut the girl she had tied, Bella.

Lilah smirked as nothing happened. Just as expected-though she knew the firm would want to know what it was that made that girl so special that even Glory had been fooled.

When Dawn Summers appeared on the tower platform, Lilah leaned forward, tapping one finger lightly on the book, and smiled, whispering softly. "Showtime."

GLORY:
Glory was in the midst of raising her knife to drive it into Bella, when she caught sight of the kid behind the girl. "She's not the key. I am." A slow, sly smile slid across her lips, and she dropped Bella to the platform, then stepped past her, still holding the bloody knife. To her, Bella no longer existed. "Aw, isn't that sweet. Showing up just in the nick of time to save your little friend. Well no one is saving you, honey."

Lightning fast reflexes allowed her to reach out and snag Dawn's arm, pulling her further out onto the platform, and over Bella's body. "So, kid, what made you do it? Not that I care, but I am curious and all." She played with the knife in the air in front of Dawn's eyes, while holding firmly to her arm. It was likely her fingers were bruising.

"You really don't think that Slayer chick is gonna save you...do you?"

RILEY:
It happened very fast. Riley didn't like very fast, except in food service...and he didn't see any fries in sight. No sooner had they pulled up to the tower site and Dawn had taken off like a shot.

This was immediately followed by Edward echoing (or maybe just jumping the telepathic gun) his own thought that there was no way in hell he was just going to sit in the car and let Dawn walk into death's mouth alone.

...but, before he could respond with hearty agreement to Edward's statment, the vampire was out of the car like a shot...inhuman speed and a blur across the lot.

Riley was left alone in the car, and all he could do was blink. His eyes glanced toward the tower that stood above them all, and it set in. Everything
Dawn had said and explained inbetween Revello and now...

...this was the real deal, and somewhere up there was a hellgod with a serious case of the psychos.

The moment for collecting himself was through, and Riley kicked the door open to the car and walked around to the back, pulling the hatch up with one strong lift.

There in the trunk was a large, ominious object...one that Dawn had asked for by name.

Riley quickly pulled the backpack portion onto his back, the fuel cells weighing heavily on him, and he grabbed the connected gun portion with two hands.

With the flick of a switch the end of the weapon blazed up, and the flamethrower was ready.

Orange light shone off Riley's face in the dark as he started walking toward the tower.

"It's go time."

As Riley made his way across the lot and to the tower, he was ready for anything. Demons, zombies, carnage and blood...anything a situation like this may offer up. What he got when he arrived at the tower's base, however, was the one thing he was not ready for.

That thing was tall...

...blonde...

...and a son of a bitch.

Riley narrowed his eyes in disgust, finger tensing on the flamethrower's trigger.

"Spike."

SPIKE:
"Spike."

The vampire turned, chin following over shoulder, rest of the body following after.

"OH GODDAMNIT IT TO HELL ALREADY!" Spike said, unable to keep from yelling. Riley Finn. Riley Sodding Finn, Captain Cardboard carrying... well that was interesting.

"That's a flamethrower," Spike said, pointing. "Did you know that?"

He didn't back up, but it was a struggle. He exhaled and gritted his teeth, tilting his head and biting the side of his face to keep from saying something truly stupid. "There's a girl up there," Spike said, eyes raising to the tower, "that I care about like I care about Dawn. Mr. I'm-So-Bloody-Special-I-Can-Climb-Towers-In-A-Single-Bound already pushed me." His eyebrow rose and he looked at Riley seriously.

"I'm going up that tower, mate. If I don't, Little Bit's getting shredded. You know it. And if you go, the goddess of hell will end you." He smiled slightly at the thought of that, but shook his head. "Hate me later. No time now."

He spun on his heel, combat boots grinding dust beneath his feet, and put a pale hand on one of the metal struts of the tower. "Smile," Spike called over his shoulder, "I'm sure I'll fall the hell off soon. If I throw you a teenage girl, try and catch her, yeah?"

BELLA:
Everything had started to blur together. It wasn't the first time. It seemed like Glory had made a habit out of choking Bella. The abuse to her neck only ended when a teenager's voice intruded: "She's not the key. I am."

Bella thought it may have been her mind playing tricks on her (hearing anything right now was an achievement), but the next second, she was capsizing to knees on the unstable platform. The ropes she had been forced into were cutting into the raw flesh of her wrists, already tender from previous assaults, but kept her somewhat up. Exhausted lungs took in oxygen, her throat burning. Her body, just human, not at all enhanced with speedy healing, was exhausted and she was lightheaded. But the pain was overdue. Shock had initiated and would not be replaced anytime soon.

The key. Dawn.

As much as her head wanted to loll forward, it snapped up. Like an army of bees, worry and panic swarmed her. No! She's going to kill you! As much as she willed to say the words, they insisted on sticking in her sore throat. All she got out was a wheezed out, "Dawn-"

"OH GODDAMNIT IT TO HELL ALREADY!"

Spike? Spike was here?

More noteworthy: Spike was here, too?

She would have verbally groaned, but settled for mentally.

God. Damn. It. Like Dawn wasn't enough?

This had, overall, been a very, very bad day. She was hanging onto consciousness with all she had in her. Why? This certainly wasn't the kindest scenario to watch. Why not black out? She didn't deserve it, from her point of view. As absurd as it may be, Bella felt guilty. If she hadn't had such bad luck, she would not have fallen on that rock that started this all. She would not have had to goto the hospital and Glory would not have believed she was the key, so Dawn and Spike wouldn't be risking their lives like they were..

And, from what she could tell, hell wouldn't be about to make its entrance onto the red carpet.

DAWN:
Glory's grip was bruising, like iron shackles around Dawn's arm. She did an awkward hop to get around/over Bella, not wanting to step on the other girl. After all she'd gone through, Dawn didn't think she would appreciate that, as a last straw in a long line of indignities. At least Dawn had been prepared for facing the hellgod.

Or so she thought. Now that she was actually up there, on the tower, swaying gently under her feet, Glory waving a knife in her face, a knife that was already bloodied, she didn't think she was. Talking about it, thinking about it, anticipating it was nothing like actually being there. She was staring death in the face. Her body was screaming at her to turn around, climb back down the stairs, go home and crawl underneath her bed. But she couldn't run away even if she'd wanted to, Glory's grip on her arm like a vise.

"You really don't think that Slayer chick is gonna save you...do you?"

"No," Dawn said quietly, using every last drop of courage she had to look Glory in the face. "No, I really don't." She was telling the truth. Buffy had no idea where she'd gone in the first place, much less that she'd come back and run off to fight the hellgod on her own.

She heard Bella say her name, quietly, behind her. Of course, Edward must have told her. There was noise from the ground below, too. Too much noise. She could guess that Edward and Riley hadn't listened to her orders. She hadn't expected them to, not really, but she had hoped.

As least Riley had a flamethrower. A grin flickered across her face.

And disappeared as she focused on Glory again. "Enough innocent people have suffered for you already," she said, hoping her voice sounded steady enough. "So I'm here. Just let Bella go and I'll open your door."

Now all she could do was hope that Lilah would come through in a timely manner. And that her friends down below wouldn't get themselves killed.

EDWARD:
Climbing this thing was an extreme sport, even for a vampire.

Edward's face was focused, every muscle determined, and he was heading up the latticework of the tower and then up the ladder that led to a sort of rough-shod fire escape structure all the way to the top. It creaked every time he moved, and despite the fact the a fall would dent the pavement below and not Edward, he felt his stomach dropping when the rickety thing lurched.

Edward was getting scared. Mostly because Dawn's thoughts were far too calm. Again. And because her voice wasn't shaking nearly enough. So I'm here. Just let Bella go and I'll open your door.

He pulled himself to the top of the platform and the entire tower lurched about two feet forward under his weight. His eyes went to Glory first, flashing and angry, then to Dawn, where they stayed for a while. Sad. Torn. He took a deep breath.

Edward immediately felt his back go rod-straight. Blood.

There was blood.

It was Bella's.

He shut his eyes against how much he wanted it, but despite himself, he licked his tongue slowly over his lower lip. Edward stopped breathing. He didn't need to, anyway. And if he kept breathing, he'd potentially drain Bella.

God. Oh God. How was it possible for her blood to do this now, when it hadn't be--because she was scared.

Edward shook his head, as if telling himself no, you are NOT this much of a monster, you are not turned on by the fact that her fear is making her blood more enticing.

He slid across the top of the platform floor on his knees and ended up at Bella's feet. Edward smiled up at her. She looked very pretty, all things considered. The dress was lovely, but all wrong. This whole thing was wrong. Edward sitting before Bella on his knees while she was dressed like a fairy tale princess.

Had potential under other circumstances. Right now, he just got to his feet quickly, fluidly, and looked at the bonds on Bella's wrists. "Hello," he said, giving her the smile again.

The things holding her there were metal. Edward could break them. He sighed and grabbed one in both hands, crumbling it like plastic, and rubbed Bella's wrist between his hands. Then he did the same with her other wrist.

"I think it's time we got you down from here," he said.

GLORY:
The rest of the world might as well have not even existed for the goddess and the girl.

Glory smirked at the kid's words. "Wow. What a bunch of self-righteous crap. They teach you kids early now, don't they? Honey, all I ever wanted was you." She smiled slowly. "So you should just be happy and keep your mouth shut, okay?"

The knife was lowered to the arm she held, and she drew the knife across lightly so she'd start to bleed out. "This is gonna take a little bit-this being the part where you die, anyway." A shrug was given. "Not that I care, of course."

RILEY:
"If I throw you a teenage girl, try and catch her, yeah?"

Riley watched as Spike tore up the tower without waiting for a response, and pursed his lips. Riley couldn't help but be torn between wanting to light Spike on fire then and there, and understanding that the bleached bozo might have actually have a viable plan.

Especially if it meant saving Dawn.

"Yeah...I'll catch her...I hope," Riley said to himself, eyes leveling back to the ground around him. He couldn't feel totally out of the loop being left on the ground...he didn't have time. Even as Riley was comprehending Spike's departure and request, Riley was noticing the harsh reality of the tower's base. This hellgod had planned for interference...and from the looks of rather nasty looking minions heading Riley's way...was certain it was going to happen.

Whatever they were, they weren't necessairly human, and they didn't look like they wanted to play Boggle.

Riley had a momentary panic...there was a large number of them closing in, and he was severely outnumbered.

Then a single thought occurred to him...something he remember.

"Oh yeah," he said, "flamethrower."

Riley flipped the fuel switch and whirled on his feet, a jet of flame erupting from the nozzle and illuminating the night sky. The nearest hell-minion burst into screaming, smoky flames and Riley turned without a second glance to the rest of the coming crowd, a grin appearing half-cocked on his face.

"What can I say guys? You're making me hot."

...and fire claimed the night.

SPIKE:
Spike felt the tower shift and shake and he clung to it without care for how much of a dolt he looked like.

Above him, he smelled blood. Two kinds. Two different types, one of them.... one of them not quite right. What the hell was going on up there?

"That's it, innit?" he whispered, wrapping arms around a metal strut and pulling himself upward. "Hell."

He kept going, and in another few minutes, he was on that platform.

Spike would be the straw that broke that tower's back. The platform began to tilt crazily, and Spike nodded at the other vampire up there, as if to say, 'yes get her out of here, right now.'

"God, it's like the sodding Wizard of OZ up here... Hello, Hell's Bells... and g'bye. Hello, Niblet," Spike said. He tilted his head and pulled back his fist to punch Glory. "And hello, hell bitch."

BELLA:
"Just let Bella go and I'll open your door." Her worst fear confirmed. This was all her fault. She really wished Dawn hadn't come. She wasn't worth it. Another thought occurred: If Dawn was saving her, then who was saving Dawn?

When Edward slipped into her line of vision, her heart stopped dead for a second. And not just because he was smiling up at her. Edward. Edward was here. "Hi," she replied, breathless and managing to feel even more ridiculous. But she could worry about feeling stupid in his presence later. Later - if there was a later - when a hellgod wasn't a few feet away and brandishing a knife. "You don't want to be around me," she mumbled. An accomplishment. Dizziness was warping everything into its favor. "There's blood." And there was about to be more.

It didn't matter that the metal bended like rubber in Edward's hands, Glory was so much stronger than him. More dangerous. More than happy to end his life if he tried to impose on her plans. When the bonds were gone, Bella was indecisive over whether she should throw her arms (if they cooperated) around him or if that would be too much for Edward's self-control. Instead, she shakily relied on his body for stability. "You don't have to do this," she slewed her words together. They might have sounded unintelligible to anyone with normal hearing. Time wasn't on the good guys' side, she was guessing. So she hurried in, the reunion bittersweet, "Help Dawn. Save the day. I can get down there." It was impossible to, though. Because then the platform was swaying dangerously and Spike was passing by with a casual hello and goodbye.

She darted her eyes between the two vampires, the key, and the hellgod. Bella was only human. She could not fight this kind of battle. All she was, truly, was.. bait. And they'd taken it. And now she was upon the tip top of a tower and everyone was saving her. It was like Rapunzel, almost. Only Bella didn't have enough hair. The last thing Bella wanted was to be up here. The last thing she wanted was for anyone to be up here.

"Time to get the human down," she squeaked to Edward as the platform swayed again.

DAWN:
Oh no.

Oh, no.

Glory pulled Dawn forward, and the girl's knees buckled as her bare feet slid over the metal gridwork of the platform. Why couldn't people just listen to her? She heard Edward scale the tower and break Bella's shackles. She heard Bella tell him to help her. Yeah, right. She was the last person anyone should be helping at the moment.

She chanced to half-turn her head, so that she could see Bella and Edward crouching at the end of the platform out of the corner of her eye. "Get her out of here," she managed, but her throat was dry, her mouth tasted like sand and smoke. Her body felt frozen, practically paralyzed with fear that had snuck up on her, unexpected.

Any minute now, Lilah.

Glory brandished the knife before her, and Dawn felt faint. Anytime now. Really. She closed her eyes and waited for the bruising grip to release her. Waited for Glory to scream, to disappear in a burst of flame, to... something. But nothing happened. And after a moment, she felt a sharp pain in her forearm.

Her eyes flew open. It took her a moment to focus on the thin crimson line running down her arm. And as she watched, dark blood ran down her arm, tiny drops falling to wet the platform.

"Oh, fuck no," she said, because she couldn't think of anything else to say. She couldn't think at all. Only that this wasn't supposed to happen. Did something happen to Lilah? Had she changed her mind within the past hour and neglected to tell Dawn? Was she... dead? This wasn't supposed to happen. Glory was supposed to be dead, eliminated, vaporized, whatever, before she'd had a chance to get her hands on Dawn. Before she could open the portal.

Another tremor shook the tower, and Dawn, her knees as weak as jelly, slipped and fell to one knee, her arm stretched painfully above her head, the shock from the graceless impact revebrating through her leg. And her blood kept flowing.

Gods. She was so wrong. She'd trusted Lilah, trusted Wolfram and Hart, brought everyone into this mess. And she was wrong. So wrong. Whatever game Wolfram and Hart were playing, it didn't involve keeping their bargains. Oh, if she lived long enough to get her hands on Lilah... But now, everyone was there. Fighting. For her. Because they thought that her plan was going to work. And she'd thought so too. She was such a fool. And everyone was going to die.

She heard Spike's voice, saw him out of the corner of her eye. Mostly, she saw darkness, and Glory's triumphant face, and stars.

"Get out!" she screamed, turning her chalk-white, panicked face up to him. Didn't he understand? Glory could rip him to pieces. And now there was nothing to stop her.

Below them, in midair, blue-white energy crackled.

GLORY:
Glory barely acknowledged Spike. As a matter of fact, when he attempted to punch her, she merely switched her knife momentarily to the hand holding the teen, then caught his fist, twisted his arm so he'd have to turn, and pushed him-with godstrength-to the other end of the platform. He'd be lucky if he didn't fall.

Picking up the knife again, her eyes watched as the brunette fell to one knee. "Oh, please. Don't be so dramatic-this is a big day for both of us, I know, but oh me, isn't this a bit too much? Even for a teenager." She rolled her eyes and pulled Dawn back to her feet, proceeding to then draw the blade of the knife along her torso, leaving another shallow cut for blood to flow through.

A glance was shot downward and she spotted the portal slowly starting to appear, and a look of near-ecstasy slid onto her face. "Isn't it beautiful?

SPIKE:
Spike hurtled forward, for once very aware that he had absolutely no control over his body or how fast it rocketed toward the edge of something very, very high, and very, very dangerous. Glory twisted, and the twist hurt, but much worse than that was the flying toward the edge of a blue, crackling abyss thing.

The vampire's eyes went round, beyond quarter-round, more like dinner plates. He stopped just short of falling over the edge, barely keeping his balance and then falling backward, back toward Glory and Dawn.

He could hear her. Glory, talking. And he felt his face shift. She made him so SODDING ANGRY.

Spike carefully got to his feet and his nostrils flared. He smelled blood. Dawn's blood.

"How's about you stop slicin' open lil' girls and you take a nice ride off this tower, through that blue shiney thing?" Spike said, voice all congeniality. Yellow eyes blinked at her back. He swallowed back the smell of Dawn's blood on the air. Swallowed back the want of it.

"Kitten, you ready to go?" he asked Dawn. Those otherworldly eyes went back to Glory's, and this time they were menacing. "I think we'll be seeing you. Love to stay, prior engagements."

Spike moved past Glory to Dawn, and wound his arms around her. Glory could take them both, then. He wasn't leaving Dawn here.

DAWN:
Words rose in her mind, the same words she'd been saying to everyone for the past few hours, the ones she's been repeating to herself for the past few days. Get away. I'll be fine. I have a plan... Only her plan wasn't exactly going as planned, was it? Lilah was supposed to have put Glory out of her misery as soon as Bella was free. Before Dawn bled. Before the portal opened.

Blue-white energy crackled below them like lightning, spreading. The portal. Gods. Dawn choked, feeling like her throat was closing up, barely aware of her body as Glory pulled her to her feet. She'd have bruises... tomorrow, if there was going to be a tomorrow for her. For everyone she'd dragged into this mess.

There was commotion below them, screams and shouting and fire, and Dawn saw movement out of the corner of her eye, but she couldn't focus. It was overwhelming, most of all the sense of failure. How could she have been so stupid, trusting Lilah? She'd been used. She and all of her friends, all of the people that she'd loved and tried so hard to protect. They'd all been had. So goddamn easily.

She screamed as Spike rushed forward at Glory, and was flung back without ceremony. She barely felt the sting as Glory's sharp knife sliced through the material of her sweatshirt - 'oh, Buffy's gonna be pissed' floated through her mind absently - and through the skin of her belly.

"Just go," she gasped through her teeth, her mouth dry, like it was full of sand, her ears full of a loud rushing sound. "Just take me with you and go."

But she felt Spike's arms wrapping around her. She couldn't believe it. She thought he would've been dead, falling off of the tower and she hadn't even noticed. At least Edward and Bella were gone. They'd be safe... gods, how could she have been so stupid? She felt torn, Spike's arms around her, Glory's hand still wrapped around her arm. He couldn't possibly be willing to die for her. How stupid was that?

"Just go," she repeated weakly. "Please." She wasn't sure who she was talking to anymore.

SPIKE:
Spike glared at Glory. Glared. And the portal in the sky closed, slowly, the blue light vanishing.

"Not a sodding chance, I said, Niblet," he said. "Need your hearin' checked?"

His eyes never left Glory's face. "Oh, look, your ride's leavin' without ya," he said. "Tsk, tsk."

Spike set his jaw and grabbed Dawn's hand. "C'mon, closing time," he said, pulling on her.

DAWN:
Someone pushed past her, jumping off of the tower - or did they really jump? Who were they? Nothing hardly registered anymore. She felt like she was the stuffed toy caught in a game of tug-of-war between two irritable children. She couldn't handle it anymore, she was going to break...

Underneath them, the portal crackled - and began to shrink. Peering downwards, almost limp in Spike's arms, Dawn raised an eyebrow. Was she imagining things? Or was Lilah actually holding up her end of the bargain? Did this mean the world wasn't going to end after all? That she maybe wouldn't die? That'd be nice. The not dying. She smiled absent-mindedly.

"She won't let me go," she said to Spike, renewing her efforts to wrench her arm out of Glory's grip. Her body was going to hurt tomorrow. But that didn't matter. At least now there was a chance that there might be a tomorrow for them.
________________________________________________
EDWARD:
Edward nodded back at Spike, in understanding. He heard him threaten Glory but he'd already turned his face back to Bella.
Time to get the human down.

He nodded, lacing his fingers through hers. "Listen to me very carefully. I don't know how they got you up here, but..."

The tower shook. "... getting down's going to be quite a trick. Hang onto me. Tight. Don't let go. For anything. You can't hurt me. I don't need to breathe. Hang off my neck by your arms if you have to."

Any minute now, Lilah.

Edward's eyes moved to Dawn. His expression changed. She was... God. She was so brave, and yet she still believed... Edward bit down on the inside of his mouth to keep from saying something, anything, from running over and grabbing her.

Oh, fuck no.

Edward shut his eyes and his jaw worked. He didn't ask Bella; he simply threw her up onto his back like a little kid--he needed his front to climb down the ladder that was right below them. His eyes, as he looked at Dawn for what might be the last time, were full of want. He growled. Leaving was tearing him up. Shredding his insides.

But he started down the ladder. "Hang on," he said to Bella.

Something up there was breaking loose.

Get out!

Edward shook his head. He knew Dawn meant it, and he heard Spike answer her as he started down the ladder at a speed a human could never manage: "Not a sodding chance, love. I'm with you."

They were halfway down the tower, and therefore Edward could walk, not climb down part of the way, when the sky lit up like Times Square.

"Jesus fucking Christ Almighty," he said.

SEAN---> SAERIAN:
As that energy rippled and bled into the Sunnydale sky, Sean ran at full breakneck speed toward it. Phaedra was right behind him.

He could feel Saerian under the surface, kicking, and it fucking hurt. He didn't know if he'd get there fast enough. But that was what Phaedra was for. She would kill him. She knew how; his body was made just like hers, after all. Exactly. The Conduit had seen to that. Blood of her blood, flesh of her flesh...

There was fire here, which was... unexpected, but it didn't slow him down. Or Phaedra. They just ran past. Sean had time to feel like he was drowning, feel himself losing control, and half yell a warning to Phaedra as he became the passenger again, and Saerian took over.

He stopped running.

Saerian turned, looked at Phaedra, and smiled. Her blood halted in her veins, but this was why she was here. "Right. You just thought, what? Toss the demon off the tower, that'll take care of him?"

He laughed, then. And when he threw his head back and Phaedra saw the fangs in that mouth, the fangs that had no right to be there, she launched herself at him without a second thought, knocking him to the ground about fifteen feet from Riley Finn.

Saerian reached his head back like a snake and sank his teeth into her arm. Phaedra yelled and started cursing, gypsy phrases dripping from her lips.

"You're going back," she said.

"Don't count on it, toots. Really. I just wanna see the show." Saerian's eyebrows raised and lowered, and his eyes flashed red as he rolled his hips toward her, far beyond suggestively.

"I'll drag you up there myself," Phaedra growled.

BUFFY:
What Buffy saw in the distance didn't need a watcherly explanation. A light appeared in the sky, electric blue, and the clogs clicked in her head as she suddenly understood.

She didn't know the technicalities, but it was clear something was happening over there, something that was going suck Saerian back into the hell hole he crawled out of.

She turned away from her friends and started to run toward the light, now noticing an orange glow as she came closer, realizing they came from the flames of a growing fire.

Ducking her head and putting an arm over her face she jumped into the air, clearing the flames and rolling safely into a crouch as she shielded her eyes, looking for Sean and Phaedra.

Her eyes made out their forms beyond the smoke and she ran toward the vampires, wondering why they simply stood there. Then Phaedra was flying through the air, landing on top of Sean---no, it was Saerian, he'd managed to break free, he was going to get away!

Not if she could fucking help it.

Phaedra was above the demon, holding him down, and it wasn't hard for Buffy to maneuver around them, positioning herself behind Saerian's head. She looked at Phaedra, to let her know she was there, that together they could prevent any escape he might attempt.

But this was beyond a doubt Phaedra's kill, regardless of the wrongs Saerian had done to Buffy herself. Theirs was a confrontation centuries in the making, and the vampiress deserved to be the one to send Saerian back to hell.

RILEY:
Riley had the flame-thrower going full-tilt, and had no plans of stopping in the immediate future. The minions were many, and he had plans to make sure they were many a flambé.

Not only was the lot now aglow as an aftermath of Riley's fiery onslaught, but it was also exponentially hotter. It made him wish he hadn't worn the extra layer under his combat vest, as sweat as finding ways to emerge from every possible pore, but ensemble decisions were really the least of his worries. Despite being outnumbered, the flamethrower did provide an edge, but it also didn't give him reason to get sloppy. A stray demon, minion, or vamp could hit him from the side and it could all be over.

As Riley wheeled on his heels to let loose another spray of inferno in the space behind him, his finger paused on the trigger. In the clearing ahead was not another baddie, but something far more unnerving. Something he was not quite prepared to see...let alone in the midst of all this.

His stomach clenched with a terror that had not been there previous to this moment.

"Buffy?" he yelled.

PHAEDRA:
Phaedra felt Buffy behind her and basically ignored her. Not out of lack of respect--because she didn't see anything just then aside from the thing in front of her, the thing that wore someone else like a costume.

The thing that had killed her family.

And Buffy was holding him down.

The eyes that looked up at Phaedra were red and feral, and Saerian laughed. "G'head," he said. "Go ahead, Phae. Cut my head off. All that does is kill the body. Maybe not even that... how strong are you, babe?"

Phaedra swallowed.

"Really. The Conduit made me outta you. D'you know for a fact this'd kill you?"

It wasn't panic she was starting to feel. But it was close. Phaedra hadn't put much thought into how exactly to hurt him--she just wanted Saerian in pain, and then dead.

"Now," he said, voice a purr, "let me up, before somebody gets hurt."

SAERIAN----> SEAN:
The crackle of energy that had resulted from the first drops of blood falling from Dawn's body became a wave.

A blue light started as a pinprick, and then radiated outward until there was a circle, a portal, big enough for a person to fit through.

As more blood fell, the circle widened.

And Saerian laughed.

Phaedra's eyes moved upward, and her face went slack. She could not find, anywhere in her long memory, a reason for what was happening up there. The fear turned the blood in her veins to ice, and Saerian pushed both Buffy and Phaedra off of him.

"Oooh," he said. "Feels like home."

With a raise of both eyebrows, he got to his feet, watching the vampiress carefully. Buffy he could force to be still, even if it were just for a little while. And as the demon raised his eyes to that portal, as those eyes widened with wonder and with ideas that would put people into the ground, he lost himself for a minute.

A minute was all it took.

Sean shook his head. Sean, not Saerian, as if to clear it. "Phaedra, you gotta let me go," he said, pushing past her, feeling the grip he had loosen with every step.

This was going to be torture.

But he pushed. And he kept moving.

Sean got halfway up the tower before Saerian realized what was going on, and started kicking up a fuss. Then what happened nearly brought him screaming to his knees.

You won't be in control long.

"Neither will you. We're goin' in, you asshole."
Tsk, tsk. Why don't you just give up? Surface now and again? Make it worth your while...

There was a flash, like lightning, and the circle, the portal, widened. Sean hauled himself up the ladder Edward had gone down moments before.

STOP.
Sean laughed. "Not a chance, fucker. What, realize I'm serious? YOU TOOK MY LIFE!"
Not like you were really doing anything with it.

Sean was up on that platform, now. And his stomach bottomed out. Saerian didn't like the view, up here. If Sean threw him... them... into that opening, into that energy... it'd destroy him.

He knew it. He felt it. That was not his plane of existance, over there. It was like it, but it wasn't Hamishagos. He'd be absorbed into it, and that would be the end of him.

He tried to bargain. The thoughts that ran through Sean's mind were fast and very vivid. They were of what the two of them could do, if Sean didn't jump. The power he'd have. The things he could gain.

Phaedra, it'll never be enough, but I'm sorry.

He thought of what Saerian had done, while in posession of his body, what he'd done to her. He could feel Phaedra under him, feel how she'd been forced. Feel her break.

"Too little," Sean said aloud, "too goddamn late."

He stepped to the edge of the platform, oblivious to Dawn and Glory, both, and he hurled himself off of it, into that portal.

PHAEDRA:
Phaedra's eyes went up to that platform, after Sean. And when he threw her that thought, she had to look away.

Her eyes went to Buffy, for a minute, and then back up.

When she looked again, Sean wasn't there.

But the blue energy that was the portal was crackling, and a heartbeat later she saw something fall through that space.

Something limp.
Something that was...

... he'd done it.

Sean Mullen's body hit the pavement below the portal without much of a sound. It laid there, crumpled, like it was only a man--not a shell for something far, far worse. Not a vampire. It'd been hollowed out, but Phaedra didn't, couldn't know that. Saerian and Sean both went into that energy, and neither made it out.

Neither would.

Phaedra couldn't move.
Three centuries spent hating something.
And that something was gone.
Her eyes bled feral green as she watched.

BELLA:
There was no time to ask or even object to the way Edward was going to get Bella down, before she was flung onto his back. Merely, as if she were a backpack. She would have screamed had she the chance, but instead it came out a squeak, her arms locking around his neck, bracing for the worst. Bella was like a second skin to him, one that hung on very tightly.

She was glad she didn't have to see his expression when he looked back to Dawn. The agony on his face would have left her desolate.

It was much faster and much, much easier than if Bella had endeavored to trying to get herself down from the tower. Descending quicker than she would have preferred otherwise (this was no situation for her to argue about going fast and not slow), the wind battered at her hair and she buried her face into his neck.

An uproar of noise startled her, followed by Edward. Jesus fucking Christ Almighty. Instinctively, her head jerked up and, even with the nagging in her mind that told her she should keep her eyes closed, they opened.

What she saw wasn't exactly the kind of view she had been looking forward to. Everything was going downhill. There was blinding light surrounding them coming from an opened portal. The Portal.

Her heartbeat began to do a series of acrobatics, erratic in her chest. It didn't matter that she was woozy or had been awake for god knows how long or that her arm had been through too much trauma. Bella felt suddenly very much conscious, when she would much rather be blacked out.

She didn't know how she managed to keep the contents of her stomach in her stomach when she saw the corpse of someone she could not even recognize. But it was a tragedy, nonetheless. One that could have been prevented possibly, had what happened not happened. Right?

"Oh god," she breathed shakily, grasping onto the vampire tighter, her raw throat raspy with unshed tears.

EDWARD:
Edward could feel Bella's nose on his neck, eyelashes hitting the skin there as she hid her face.

Oh god.

Edward didn't say anything, but he knew standing there amazed like this was the worst thing for the both of them, and, potentially, the worst thing for Dawn, too. If they stood there and Dawn saw something happen to him, or to Bella...

... No. He wouldn't allow it. No matter what happened to Dawn now (and despite himself, despite the pain gnawing at his gut about leaving her up there, Edward trusted Spike to get her out of everything), she simply did not need to carry around the burden of knowing he or Bella was hurt. Edward wouldn't let that happen.

He ran the rest of the way down the scaffold, and then, cursing again, jumped down to the ground instead of dealing with the second ladder.

He hit without much of a sound, and righted himself fairly quickly, making adjustments for Bella's weight as he went. He couldn't turn around to her, and when he saw Riley, he nodded, and just kept going.

That was Buffy.
He could not deal with that right now. Buffy's mind was a tangle of emotion and worry that threatened to suck him in if he kept standing there.

"Let's get you out of here, okay?" Edward said, running for the fence surrounding the entire tower area. "I'm not putting you down until I can't even see this tower anymore."

They were through the fence. And he wasn't looking back.

LILAH:
Lilah watched the events unfold on the tower with a small gleam in her eyes. The book rested on the chair she'd vacated, open to the spell she'd memorized already, as she waited for the time to be right. The time spoken of between her and Dawn Summers passed by barely even acknowledged-she had, of course, had her own agenda the entire time.

She wanted the portal to open. As did the Senior Partners-mostly to see what happened.

When a new figure suddenly joined the others on top of the tower, she leaned over the edge just a bit, then broke into a smile. Moving behind the camera to doublecheck, she watched through the lens as Saerian plummeted to his death. At least that problem was taken care of.

Now, the Senior Partners didn't really want the Key to be destroyed-they mostly just wanted to see how it worked. So at last Lilah picked up a knife that rested beside the book, drew it across her hand, and stood near the edge of the roof-but not so close as to fall, of course.

As the blood began to pool in her palm, she quietly murmured the words in latin that the spell called for, then flicked her hand towards the edge so that her blood flew into the air. It, of course, came no where near to the portal-but it was the intent that counted.

She closed her eyes for a moment to steady herself as she felt the spell release-God, but she hated magic-then reopened them to witness the portal slowly begin to close.

memorable quotes.

Tue, 08 Jan 2008 01:59:10 GMT

Jen: Carr is currently giggling in the corner because he looks like a Wookie.

Lauren: I would like you to pause and appreciate the comments I am NOT making about you, your boyfriend, and what may or may not be 'deployed.'

Lauren: better hope she doesn't have a stake.
Dave: It'll be more fun if she does
Lauren:-raises eyebrow-
Dave: I'm hardcore kinky like that. *rolls eyes*
Lauren: hi, did you READ the lindsey and phaedra thread?!

Dave: How I do love Lindsey-death plotting.

Lusa: SHOOT IT. SHOOT IT NOW.
Saerian: Oh, go play with your damn paperclips.

Jen: “Lindsey and Saerian get some coffee. And some evil to go with the coffee. And some cigarettes to go with their evil and coffee." ahahahahaa i love you

Anita, to Illyria: Why are you that color?

Dave: Man. Angelus is gonna be The Dragon. Tch
Lauren: tch?
Dave: It's never something like The Bad-Assinator.
Lauren: i think there's a good reason for that

Lauren: i ended up at anita!mun's house drinking.
Dave: Come to my house to drink next time. I live off of rt. 70 and 41.Let's go to the mall and play in the fountain.

Jen: *innocent grin* they're being romantic! looking up at stars and all that
Lauren: yeah right, you're innocent like i'm nice.

Mike: Angelus is a puss to play. Kill this, kill that. Write poetry.

Lauren: we're all girls cept for dave.
Mike: That slut always has an angle.

Dave:You and your sexual innuendonts.
Lauren: ohhh you think you're funny dontcha

Dave: I'll come for you second.
Linda: Nobody ever picks me first
{pouts}
{realizes you're talking about torture and murdering me}
{stops pouting, starts stockpiling weapons}
Dave: Eh, forget it, you still die second. : D
Linda: Good to know, that gives me time to prepare, get my affairs in order and such....am I lulling you into a false sense of security yet?

Lauren: linda said torture away, lol lookit the ooc
Dave: She's always so accommodating.
Lauren: that's why i'm marrying her. you. you two.
Dave: Yayyy. My dream marriage consits of two chicks. Go fig.

Lauren: we are so cute.
Jen: yis we are
Lauren: and disturbed.
Jen: lindseyissosmitten

Lauren: HE WILL LOOK LIKE DANNY
Linda: this is going to be greeeeeeeat
Lauren: you turned your boyfriend into an rpg character
Linda: mmhmm

Linda: but yea, Wesley needs to get his act together and flirt more in his own awkward nerdy way
Nels: Yeah, but he can be tough..and he's so nummy when he makes with the guns and swords.
Linda: its true
Linda: I like the men with the weapons

Nels: ::sighs:: Damn you for making me get naughty thoughts.
Linda: we need to take advantage of those....in writing!

Linda: yo so should Anita find Angel/soul or would that be ruining the fun too quickly?
Lauren: um... not quite yet. buffy not evil yet.

Lauren: i will be here forEVER. like in the sandlot
Charlotte: for ev er for ev er for ev er

Charlotte: button button who’s got the button

Lauren: <3
Jen: i less than three you too

Jen: *hums and waits for damnation from lauren*

Lauren: did they give you a manual when you took him on, btw? 'how to push lauren's buttons--10 easy steps?'
Jen: *snicker* DAMN she's found us out! run!
Lauren: real question is... who gave it to you? -raises eyebrow-
Jen: i never reveal my sources *tilted chin of defiance*

Lauren: he might melt.
Jen: oh good
Lauren: into puddle o'cowboy.
Jen: wonder if they sell that
Lauren: they should.

Lauren: -eyebrow raise- you nuzzled my boobs again.
Jen: yep. i do that a lot
Lauren: nuzzle my boobs? or just everyone's?
Jen: everyone's. i'm non-discriminating. no man-boobs though
Lauren: see and i thought i was special.

Charlotte (on Buffy): she's not evil. she's... temporarily corrupt.

Lauren/Spike (who the fuck knows which one's in control): Wanted to beat the shit out of Surly Mcsurly the Cowboy.

Dave: I love being a turtle! Sorry, wrong time.

Lauren: gotta run away soon... starvink. like, phaedra-starving.
Dave: Aww. Eat some Faith.

Kitty: because nobody likes popcorn that transports you to a hell dimension.

Crystal: Chippy spike. Sounds like a cookie. What kind of cookie would a smushed Buffy/Spike be? Spuffies: Vanilla with butterscotch cream? We should market that. ooh, wait! It'd be Butterscotch with Vanilla CHIPS.
Lauren: haha, yes, chips would have to be involved

Jen: which reminds me, must go be 2/3 of the orgy.

Kristine: Fuck school. I missed this.

Lauren: i can't tell when you are on, for you are stealth-dave
Dave: *flies under the radar* *bombs u*
Lauren: noooo

Lauren: i missed our lestat. she's VERY good. i am very happy. and overusing the word 'very' she took my synonyms!
Dave: lmao

Lauren: wolf is naked
Linda: well, of course. wolves would look ridiculous in clothing. and really, who's going to knit a doggie sweater that big?

Linda (while watching Angel S5): Bookman...it's like the least scary superhero name ever. Except for maybe Twinkie Boy...

Jen: *pets gunn*
Lauren: i know. he's so over his widdle bald head

Charlotte: i am like blinkblink how do i reply to this im blushing like a virgin on prom night

Charlotte: all my characters are bleeding together. buffy's going to pick up a penchant for rum next thing you know...i need a psychologist.

Nels: Cause...Buffy didn't go home...bad girl.
Linda: mmhm she is
Nels: How does she live with herself sometimes?
Linda: well, every once in a while she dies, and then it's all gone
Nels: Bah..Well, I guess she's gonna have to die soon. That or Niks might just need to leave before she has to watch anymore making out - I mean, there are lies going on somewhere in there.
Linda: well Phaedra and lindsey left, so that's already a big reduction in the making out quotient

Linda: I'm waiting for the plot faery to hit me over the head with inspiration
Nels ::pulls out a mallet and gets a Lorne look alike:: What about this?
Linda: Well...he's green, but he doesn't have wings. Plot demon? works for me
Nels: ::the Lorneish type person bonks the Linda with the squeaky mallet!::
Linda: ow Still waiting for the inspiration....

Lestat: Oooh...Pirates is on TV! Why am I so oddly attracted to William Turner?

Spike: Don't have a kind of girl, unless you count slightly to completely crazy.

Lauren: lestat is funneh.
Kristine: Haha what now?
Lauren: the throwing his arms up and saying 'tell me everything!;'
Kristine: I did make him stomp his foot but I took it away. I figured that was too much. Haha
Lauren: yeah prolly. he's not a teenage girl
Kristine: Debateable.

Jen: because the mood i'm in, faith'll either be dead in an hour or furry by next full moon, and angel will be in several very small boxes. which is not ideal
Lauren: but it'd be funnay... i just like faith in boxes. that's a fun image, boxes of faith. small ones
Jen: *snicker* i bet you can buy those somewhere
Lauren: with bows, maybe
Jen: iiiiiiitty bitty boxes
Lauren: across the highway from me at the jesus store
Jen: yis!

Anita: It's ok, I'll take care of you until you find a girl you like. Then I have to approve of her before I let you go {evil grin}
Jason: And if I found her and she's already sorta got a plateful of men?

Carr: I don't do killing.
Eric: I try not to either. However, some people are just beggin' for it.
Carr: Oh I bet literally by the time you're done.

Eric: It's a talent. I'd much rather be talented at, say, singing or cooking or swing dancing, but we take what we can get.
Carr: Swing dancing. Now there's an image.
Eric: Indeed. See my point?

Jesse: Wanna hang out? I can interview you for my records, hear all about your experiences with magic and compare them to others if you want.....
Willow: Sure. But, uhm, I have a girlfriend. Hit on Niks!

Willow: I'm just a witch who's happily involved with a witch, who's best friends with a Slayer, who's got a werewolf for an ex, and my best male friend will not be your buttmonkey.

Wesley: Why evil? Why do you feel the need to put your considerable intellect to work for Wolfram & Hart, the demonic playground from Hell? They'll just use you up and spit you out, you know..and what will have to show then? Also, you have very nice legs. Just thought I'd say... (to Lilah)

Chris: I'm a fairly good back-rubber. Does that count for something?
Lilah: Not really. Already got one of those on staff.

Lauren: Pie?!
Linda: We should make pie. And alcoholic smoothies...oooOOooo...oh, and sammiches! But not those kind.....no.

Phaedra: -snort- If I had a dollar for every time I heard that excuse...
Anita: ...you'd have two dollars. Both from me. Let it go...besides, I'm sleeping with the good guys. You're sleeping with a lawyer of questionable status in that regard....

Spike: You better, Rosenberg.
Jesse: You're talking to Jesse, not Linda. Get it right.

Niks: Wesley, think we can get onto the..sparring. You might have gotten a chance to fight it out, but there's only so much magic and watched liplock a girl can take.

Eric: I would say breakfast counts...next time, I pay. Dinner good for you? How about tonight, following by some energetic frolicking in your hotel room?
Kate: I think dinner and maybe finding a vampire.
Eric: Finding a vampire? You sure know how to put the romance in a relationship....

Dawn: So, um, was that blonde guy your boyfriend? And is he really a stripper?
Anita: Well...Jason is a dear friend. One who helps me out when my other boyfriend...uh, boyfriends aren't around. It's complicated, ok? All magic mystical woo-woo stuff I hate and can't get rid of, so let's move on. Yes, he really is a stripper. A stripper with a Word-a-day calendar....

Lindsey: Since when'd you grow a spine, boy? I'm impressed.
Wes: I've always had one, it just took a little longer in developing. Hazard of growing up in Britain, I'm afraid, especially in a family like mine. I'm rather proud of it, actually. Now bugger off.

Carr: *Lifts kilt and flashes Wesley*
Wesley: My....not my sort of thing, but thanks for the show. Nice butt.

Saerian: Miss me? -evil grin-
Dawn: Like hell

Jen: *reads more* "We do everything you and the cowboy don’t do.”" ?
Jen: what's that, peaches? knit?
Lauren: HAHAHA

Julie: when D normals up he's got more of a personality, even a weird dead pan sense of humor
Linda: ha at some point we'll get there.....when D is following Eric around like a puppydog :-)
Julie:x Can I help? Do you need me to kill some one?" lmao and Eric can tell him he can help by walking Sancho xD
Linda: aww but Sancho is really going to walk D.......

Julie: also, haha on Eric all "I'm you're boss now." D: "Okay."
Linda: yup, he likes to be large and in charge
Julie: xD and D doesnt
Linda: it's a perfect match!
Julie: yaaay
Julie: haha i can't wait till they go out to do some work together or something, or rather, people Eric knows meeting D for the first time
Linda: Kate: Where'd you pick that up?
Julie: xD "He's my secretary." Dietre "..I thou-" "You thought nothing, go get coffee."

Julie: Everyone knows Lestat has a weakness for angst whores.
Linda: very true
Julie: sadly lestat is a nonfuckable vampire xD however, that never stopped marius from being a pedo, so, there we go

Julie: D: ...-Burns holes through Eric's skull, stare, stare, stare-
Linda: Eric: "Stop that. Won't work. Don't care."
Julie: D: -STARE STARE STARE- - MERCILESSLY JUDGING HIS EXISTENCE. STARE.-
Linda: Eric:{shrugs and walks away}
Julie: D: ;___; -sulk-

Lauren: let me know when you want saerian. he's wherever you want him to be... like american express
Linda: only not as nice. Saerian doesn't give you cash back
Lauren: he totally should
Linda: yea, or benefits of some kind. like a vacation
Lauren: free miles,: or a snorkel mask
Linda: gas money. tequila.

Linda: plus he's occasionally getting some here! that there is a big attraction for staying in this dimension
Chris: ::laughs:: Yes, apparently. Now that was a welcome to the town I wasn't expecting.
Linda: welcome to Sunny-fucking-dale
Chris: Hah, yes, what's the old saying "Earth chicks are easy"

Chris: ::nods:: Hey, whatever you find is alright, 'm easy.
Charlotte: the best kind
Chris: ::laughs:: Not like that! Ok, maybe a little. I demand dinner first at least.

Kitty: that's the downside of buffy... OMG THE WORLD IS ON MY SHOULDERRRS
Charlotte: seriously. such a burden le sob.
Kitty: it's so hard being young and pretty. tsk tsk
Charlotte: and all those super powers---SUCH a pain in the ass.
Kitty: poor thing. how does she ever get by

Chris: :does the Snoopy version of Riverdance. Because they are oddly similar::
Lauren: haha
Chris: I am teh load of dah dance! ::trips, falls, huuuurts::
Lauren: load? lol you mean lord?
Chris: Yes, but I am doing a horrible accent.

Lauren: sammiches are good.
Mike: I concur whoreheartedly.

Chris: Heya Bosslady
Lauren: bosslady?
Chris: Yes, Old English for "She who must be obeyed"

Lauren: you have lotsa takers for oz help... -reading- he shall be quite the popular wolf.
Mike: Well, he does have quite excellent hair

Linda: I'm not crazy, I promise! ok.....I lie.

Nels: Have you see my Box O' Demon?
Linda: it's like being locked in a tiny closet
Nels: Jesse was in the closet!
Linda: she was, but she's out and about now.....now it's Saerian's turn. In the closet of DOOOOOM!
Nels: In the box of HOOOOORRRRROOOORRRR in the closet of DOOOOOM
Linda: DOOOM!!!!! RAAARRR!!!!

Mike: You quit work and make a run for the border yet?
Lauren: no. i should. the border, she is far away.
Mike: Run fast, little one. Like the wind.

Jen: "Sucking chest wounds: 1" Lindsey: *is proud* Number of times characters have gotten it on: 11 lindsey: *is proud again*

Lauren: phaedra is proud. But prefers her boots
Jen: me too. but a girl needs fuck-me heels

Linda: I haven't had a beer in a long time
Lauren: hello, random.
Linda: no, American Eats on the History Channel had history of beer in the us. US
Lauren: beer in the us. haha.
Linda: yes! it was all about you and me drinking. amazing stuff
Lauren: HAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Chris: Done swoonin'?
Linda: yea, just about
Chris: Sure?
Linda: yea I don't really make a habit of it. just, every once in a while, you gotta

Chris: ::chin rub whilst still holding her up:: Can I flaunt your legs at least?
Linda: well, if you must
Chris: Oh good. ::mental yawn. Mun needs to pass out, heh:: And now...legs! :snaps fingers, replaces whatever with a skirt that ends just above the knee. Woot:: Don't distract the peoples too badly now with those. ::wanders off to go pass out on his bed::

Mike: I have an hurt arm. Do you really want to be that person that beats up on injured people?
Lauren: ...no. -sad face-
Mike: Fine, you can beat me up a little. Watch the face, thats how I make my moneys.
Lauren: -snort-
Mike: You can laugh all you want, you see this five dollar bill? This money didn't come out of nowhere.

Mike: Maybe I'll make a thread open to Oz and play with myself. ROLEplay. That is.
Lauren: LOL g'head.
Mike: Didn't think as I was typin.

Lauren: damn you shoulda warned me.
Jen: oh, but it's so much more fun to watch you go 'thud'

Jen: hee yay! *puts on hat of win*
Lauren: lol
Jen: *which, when turned inside out, doubles as hat of lauren*

Lauren: bouncy!linda!! do you fight static cling?
Linda: with vigor!
Lauren: AHA! is the snuggle bear your partner?
Linda: well, partner is such a strong word for it.........
Lauren: i see. this is not a union sanctioned by our rabbi.
Linda: we're more coworkers than anything, really.........
Lauren: lies. you like the fuzz.
Linda: ick

Lauren: lindsey's like, in uber-sex mode. is funneh
Jen: hee he's totally off his face. he's all wriggly and purry and mmmmfeelsgoood. it's like catnip

Lauren: aight, yo. /gunn
Jen: *pets baldie* *polishes his head for him* NOT THAT ONE

Julie: D's family was loaded. He has an inheritance. That totally needs to come up in the future, lmao. D: Let me buy you a house, Eric.
Julie: D: Do you want one with a pool?
Linda: Eric: Umm......why?
Julie: D: ...Sancho might like a pool.
Linda: Eric: I'm never going to hear the end of this, am I?
Julie: D: ;___; i want to pay you baaack
Linda: Eric: {face<-->palm}

Julie: he'll be all discreet then and buy Eric expensive presents and just put them places in Eric's house and act like they were always there
Julie: Eric: where did this gold pocket watch come from? D: its your gold pocket watch
Julie: eric: i don't own one
Julie: D: yes you do, you just forgot
Linda: Eric: Dietre, stop buying me things! I don't need a sugar daddy.
Julie: D: ;___;

Linda: Eric: Well....
Julie: D: -perks- ?
Linda: Eric: Well.....no. I can't take your money.
Linda: Eric: It would be wrong. Very wrong.
Julie: D: .___. -can't buy carr anything, because jason would make fun of him-
Linda: Eric: Can't take it, no matter how much I want a Mustang convertible...
Julie: D: .....oh?
Julie: the next day D: oh my what is that mustang convertible doing outside?
Linda: Eric: Hey, that was a 'for instance' not a hint!

Jen: who'd you want?
Jen: carr or jaaaason
Linda: can't I be greedy and want both? heehee
Jen: hussy
Linda: shamelessly
Jen: well, good. I'd hate you to be shameful.
Linda: me too

Linda: {boogies}
Jen: as in dance, or as in pphlegm?
Linda: dancedance
Jen: *tucks dollars in your hair*
Linda: w00t

Nels: And Niks went a whole post without talking!
Linda: I noticeded
Nels: Scury

Nels: ::dances round:: Niks could do a sexy dance - Wes would be frightening
Linda: Wessy Tightpants!
Nels: ::giggles:: Shaking it for the camera
Linda: Wes: {wiggles butt}
Nels: Niks: ::smacks it!::

Linda: bringing sexy back!
Nels: Watcher sexy
Linda: a whole 'nother level
Linda: geek chic!
Nels: Girly boy JT has no chance of getting that one
Linda: no, not going to happen........
Nels: He doesn't have a chance.

Julie: xD i love nathaniel, i just wanna cuddle him and like choke anita and be like "DUDE JUST SEX HIM UP FOR GODS SAKE"
Julie: xD its like, you're already a slut, just do him already
Linda: hahaha you're not far enough along then

Linda: he's one of my favorite characters, along with Micah and Asher and Jean-Claude
Linda: Richard is all "waaaa waaaa look at me"
Julie: i knoow
Julie: its like, stfu and gtfo richard

Julie: you know D luffs eric 'cause he's gonna run away from him instead of eat him when he goes wolf xDD
Julie: he can eat some other innocent by stander
Julie: unless eric manages to like call anita and be like "D JUST TURNED INTO A WEREWOLF..UHM...DO SOMETHING?"
Linda: hahahaha
Julie: Jason: OH SHI--!"
Linda: Anita: {turns to Jason} You idiot. What did you do? GOD! I leave you alone for 30 seconds and you're making wolf babies.

Dru: I think you smell nice, too. And you are a very pretty girl. I think I shall decide to like you very much *giggles* Want to play?
Spike: You’re scaring the normals again, Dru.

Cordelia: ...Are you really really dumb? I mean you know about the play but. Eight times? That's pretty bad.

Wes: I'll have you know I basically have a degree in obscure languages. It's a good word....
Spike: you basically have a degree in advanced ponce-being.

D: I have no favorite word...I find I tend to avoid thinking in them. Words are trivial, and meaningless.
Spike: You're very upbeat.
D: Because my life is so beautiful.

Eric: Just looking out for your safety. You seem to have a bad habit of almost getting yourself made dead.......
D: ...Only a little bit...
Eric: Yea. Like Chernobyl was just a small harmless explosion........

Eric: I fucking hate babysitting….Oh great. Now you're sulking. Will ice cream help? Because that's all I've got in my repertoire of cheer-up-the-underage-hitman tricks.

Edward: Why do I smell wolf?
Anita: Yeah, that’s a really long story…

Kitty: this is bad for dawn. goodbye, ability to form complete sentences.

Kitty: well gee, tough choice. because we like to play safe here at facets. we hide under our beds when the boogie man comes around.
Lauren: omg i want that on an icon. like NOW.

Lauren: like he hasn't slept. goes with the hunger and eyes bleeding black
Kitty: well, she'll notice the big black eyes..."did you lick a funny stamp/".... i can just see it now... "i'm a vampire."
"NUH UH!"
"GET OUT"

Kitty: i want the glee to load

Kitty: because facets isn't cracktastic enough

Lauren: that's the new facets motto-- "we challenge you not to lose your shit"

Kitty: rp with edward cullen > sleep

Chris: We've got pitchforks, a couple of devils, Oh, and a big fat orifice leadin' straight to the nether regions. Also, a Hellmouth.
Bella: ...Yay?
Chris: Darn right, yay.

Kitty: dawn hopes bella will join the 'let's kick edward in the shins and run away' league
Taylor: oh yeah if he makes her sushi bella will gladly join. and wear a tshirt even
Kitty: cool. we'll make badges. and egg his car
Taylor: death to the volvo
Kitty: heh. i have a Volvo

Taylor, to Lauren, circa 4 a.m.: us FTW!

Jen: YAY I FOUND MY STAKE

dawn: vodka!
spike: give it.
dawn: nuh uh
spike: -puts out hand-
dawn: no way
spike: i SAID... give. it. you're like, five.
dawn: and you're like, two hundred. and who's the mature one now?
dawn: VODKA IS MINE

Allie: WTF CROW JUST GREW.
Julie: xD dude dont pay attention to the video
Allie: But I am distracted by creepy bird in vid.
Allie: I CAN'T HELP IT.
Julie: xDD just..minimize the window
Allie: HE'S JUMPING OFF SHIT.
Allie: OMG FIRE.
Allie: IN FORM OF CROW.
Allie: I AM SENSEING A MOTIF HERE.

Lauren: ;-) latah babe.
jen: love you, darlin
Lauren: OMG h8. YOU DID THAT ON PURPOSE
jen: *whistles*
Lauren: IT'S NOT EVEN YOU AND IT MAKES MY LEGS GO AWAY GODDAMN IT
jen: *snicker*
Lauren: I HAVE TO GO NOW.
jen: I bring all the kneecaps to the yard.

Taylor: NOTHING SHALL KEEP BELLA AND HER VIRGINITY TOGETHER ANY LONGER.

Dawn: Hello, pot, step right over here and meet kettle. Oh, what do you know, you're both BLACK.
Chris: Nice to meet you kettle. I hear black is very slimming.

nel: This deserve an award!The first time the original Scoobs were together!
charlotte: whee!!

lauren: omg you're going to try to off him arent you
charlotte: *blinkblink* i'm offended you would accuse me of such.
lauren: i know you. we go back.
charlotte: oh well when you put it that way.

allie: Jacob will not mind the comforting parts. <3
taylor: PANTS. HAH. Understatement of the YEAR..... Oh..... PARTS.
allie: *is ded*

kitty: i'm sorry. i have to go to the corner and hyperventilate.

gag reel

Mon, 07 Jan 2008 00:22:22 GMT

...what the cast does in its down time...

Vampires

Spike
Lives: in a crypt.
Drinks: blood with a straw
Enjoys: looking at Eleni's clevage; kitten poker; flowering onions; watching Passions with Joyce and/or Giles; dry wall.

Angelus
Lives: in his old mansion.
Drinks: while listening to Manilow
Enjoys: being queen; removing his nose.

Phaedra
Lives: in a hotel room. Wink wink, nudge nudge.
Drinks: diet coke from cans, hoping they're laced with Jack Daniels. Or sprite, which gets spat out when she laughs at Queen Puppet.
Enjoys: being ironical; throwing bananna trees; sexin'.

Jesse
Lives: ...somewhere.
Drinks: on occasion.
Enjoys: being bathed in the sink.

David
Lives: in a hush house on the island Lestat gave him.
Drinks: tea.
Enjoys: singing 'i'm a little teapot;' tweed, candy.

Merrick
Lives: for rum.
Drinks: rum.
Enjoys: swimming in rum.

Lestat
Lives: For being amazing and adored, mmmmkay?
Drinks: Jesus. Beat that.
Enjoys: Standing in the middle of Wal-Mart; preening in front of the mirror; listening to his greatest hits on CD; meandering around New Orleans and scaring tourists.

Dru
Lives: In her head.
Drinks: Nah. You really think she needs to?? C'mon.
Enjoys: Her dollies; flogging; stars; and daisies.

Nicki
Lives: For crazy. Breaks for it, too.
Drinks: He can't drink. Rub it in, fucker.
Enjoys: Having hands; the violin; Aerosmith; sitting on a stool in the corner; skipping merrily.

Saerian
Lives: yes! He does! Take that, Phaedra!
Drinks: at every available opportunity.
Enjoys: making the 'how you doin' face; women;, cigarettes; women; drinking; women; sinning; women...sometimes burping the alphabet; making eyes at the Conduit.

Lindsey
Lives: Somewhere. Shhh, he's hiding, remember?
Drinks: Not nearly enough. Drunken Lindsey=hillarity, I'm thinking. Plus now, he can drink blood.
Enjoys: Drawling at people; Angry sex; Mailing himself to outer Mongolia.

Vincenzo
Lives: For accidental bleeding
Drinks: On the job.
Enjoys: Layin' on ur tablez.

Edward
Lives: With a lot of adopted siblings that aren't really adopted, and are all so pretty it's kind of disgusting.
Drinks: Mountain lion and grizzly, preferably. Or, y'know, Summerses....why do they taste metallic? NOM NOM NOM.
Enjoys: Giving himself monster guilt trips, dazzling people, being shiny

Jasper
Lives:
Drinks:
Enjoys:

Humans

Anita
Lives: in an odd orgy of man-flesh with Richard and Jean-Claude. There's biting.
Drinks: I'm not going there.
Enjoys: Collecting stuffed penguins and deleting this unflattering picture.

Buffy
Lives: in a house with no windows...there were windows once. Then this game started. Now, not so much with the windows. They keep breaking.
Drinks: Beer. Or with Spike.
Enjoys: Quality time with Mr. Gordo; ice capades without the irony; kick-the-Spike.

Xander
Lives:~~in the basement~~
Drinks: while listening to country music, the music of pain.
Enjoys: thinking about Willow and Tara...eating sammiches.

Willow
Lives: for the learnin'.
Drinks: no coffee. She is forbidden.
Enjoys: watching MacGyver; fighting static cling.

Faith
Lives: for hitting things.
Drinks: and eats off of Saerian's plate.
Enjoys: Freeloading. Smacking people. Deflowering Xander.

Dawn
Lives: with her big sis.
Drinks: coke. But not too much, or else she's cookoo for cocoa puffs.
Enjoys: squeeing; flaunting her girly parts; groping rabbis; GLEEE.

Niks
Lives: For stealing Spike's Sex Pistol's albums.
Drinks: Waaaay more than she's telling us. Seriously. Lookit her outfit.
Enjoys: Cultivating a nicotine addiction.

Wes
Lives: For Jenga, ancient artifacts, and dead languages.
Drinks: Until he curses and calls Illyria a smurf.
Enjoys: Being Head Boy; laughing at Angel wearing his pink motorcycle helmet; pie.

Lilah
Lives: For evil plots.
Drinks: Often. If you worked at Wolfram & Hart, you would, too. Whole place is an AA meeting waiting to happen.
Enjoys: Sparkly things. Pouting.

Tara
Lives: in her own world with pretty flowers and many rainbows, and probably a nude Willow.
Drinks: herbal tea - it's Earthy.
Enjoys: Willow, magic, and Willow and Magic. Oh, and a nice warm bath.... with Willow and magic.

Eric
Lives: With a big dog named Sancho. Waaaait for it....
Drinks: With a big dog named Sancho.
Enjoys: Hitching Sancho to a sled, which lasts for all of five minutes before the dog runs away, because he is afflicted with ADD.

Kate
Lives: For watching "Alias."
Drinks: Like a champ.
Enjoys: Sarcasm and guns.

Anya
Lives: With Xander, and yay for sex!
Drinks: Despite the fact that she's over 1,000 years old and still gets carded.
Enjoys: Exchanging money for goods and/or services; making money; comparing people to money; money.

Gwen
Lives: Very well. You can't afford her.
Drinks: Despite the heavy risk of electrocution.
Enjoys: Frying eggs using only her hands; jump starting cars; making people nervous.

Dietre
Lives: In an alley like a hobo, or on Eric's couch.
Drinks: In the corner at social gatherings. Usually something ends up broken. Usually someone's face.
Enjoys: Angsting in all its forms. Playing piano. And Obsessing. So much obsessing.

Cordy
Lives: In LA, with a phantom roomie. No, seriously.
Drinks: More often since starting work with Capt. Broodypants.
Enjoys: Passing judgement on fashion victims; long stretches of time without visions; gossip; clothes.

Bella
Lives: With Police Chief Swan.
Drinks: Nah. I not think so.
Enjoys: Pouting; eternal damnation; seriously testing Edward's patience; extreme sports; being part Albino.

Dean
Lives: In the Metallicar.
Drinks: Like a champ.
Enjoys: Being objectified; chasing after his baby brother; vibrating hotel beds.

Jo
Lives: Here and there and everywhere.
Drinks: She works in a bar. What do you think?
Enjoys: Hitting boys with shotguns; shooting evil things in the butt with salt; getting tied to things by possessed Winchesters.

Riley
Lives: That is classified information.
Drinks: When the work drives him to it.
Enjoys: Putting chips in vampires; tiny blondes with attitude problems; flamethrowers.

Weres and Shape-shifters

Carr
Lives: AT the bar.
Drinks: see above.
Enjoys: Looking like he's done something very wrong; being a wookie.

Oz
Lives: in a van down by the river. Wait...
Drinks: until Doyle calls him 'My Little Bam-Bam.'
Enjoys: mimicking Kenny from Southpark. Animal crackers and hummus, but not together.

Jason
Lives: At the Circus of the Damned, functioning as an appetizer for Jean-Claude.
Drinks: Wait... is he even legal?
Enjoys: Taking off his clothes; flirting; taking off more clothes...

Mao
Lives:
Drinks:
Enjoys:

Demons

Illyria
Lives: Wherever she wants. You gonna tell her no?
Drinks: To wash down the petrie dishes.
Enjoys: Smurfing things. Hitting Spike. Dying everything in sight blue.

Chris
Lives: Somewhere. He's in stealth mode.
Drinks: Beer, apparently. When he's in the mood for foreplay.
Enjoys: Faith's ass; snarky comments; driving buses; being amorphous.

~~Ben~~ Glory
Lives: Shoved in a meatsack, thanks very much.
Drinks: People's brains. Bwa hahah!
Enjoys: bubble baths; minions; mimosas; slinky outfits; hating ~~herself~~ himself...

Furry Friends... okay, okay. Furry Friends that are not were-animals

Miss Kitty Fantastico
Lives: With Willow and Tara, her two mommies.
Drinks: Never, EVER, anything that Spike puts in her bowl. She learned that the hard way.
Enjoys: Snuggles with her two favorite witches. Yarn. Hiding under the bed. Avoiding being mailed to Abu Dabi.

Sancho
Lives: With Eric, and for recon.
Drinks: Whenever he can. Water. What were YOU thinking, huh?! Sancho never knows when Eric will take him somewhere where there is no water, or Milkbones, so he loads up when he can.
Enjoys: Snaussages; growling at small animals (but not chasing them because Eric told him to stay); 'people food'(but Sancho doesn't really know he's a dog... so...); food...ooh, look, a kitty!

awards!

Mon, 07 Jan 2008 00:16:58 GMT

Sept./Oct. 2007
made by bluemalick

made by herbloodsings

July 2007-The Anniversary Awards
made by scholardavid

FAQ

Mon, 07 Jan 2008 00:14:45 GMT

Facets FAQ
FAQ… and our answers.

When exactly does this game take place?
-We began, in July of 2006, at Season 5 of BTVS, Season 2 of ATS. Specifically, AFTER “Dead End,” (ATS 2.18) in which Lindsey leaves Wolfram and Hart, and “The Body,” (BTVS 5.16), in which Joyce Summers dies. Everything else in Jossverse is up for debate. For Anne Rice characters, this takes place around the time of "Blackwood Farm" and "Merrick." (Most of us HATE "Blood Canticle." Try not to talk about it. We'll twitch.) For Underworld, it takes place AFTER both Underworld movies. For Anita Blake folks, this game takes place AFTER "Danse Macabre."

So... when are we now?
-Upon moving to lj from gj, the game just wrapped some pretty big plot having to do with the portal (like the end of S5 of Buffy). The move put us at a few hours after the closure of the portal created by Dawn's blood on top of Glory's tower. However, since this game is AU, what the blood of The Key did is a little different from what happened on the show...

For Supernatural, we're in season 3. Yes, we know that doesn't jibe with the BtVS/AtS timeline, but it's our world over here. That's why it's a game.

How often do I have to post?
-We ask that you post a minimum of once per week, in character. Other players may post more often (a lot of us are addicts, don’t mind us), but once per week is all we ask.

What happens if I don’t post once per week?
-If you tell the mods, nothing happens. We try to be accommodating. If you do not tell the mods, though, we’ll get mad. If she gets mad enough, we’ll remove your posting rights to the IC board. We’ll also ask that you re-apply for the game. You will be warned first, though. And it takes quite a lot to push us to that.

How do I apply?
- Go to the user info page for </a></b></a>facetsofblood and follow the link provided to the application.

Do you turn down applications?
- Yes. But not often. When it happens, it's because a character is either too similar to one already in the game or because we feel that more thought could've been put into the application. It is never a comment on the applicant, and we encourage everyone to apply. And often!

What do I do if I have never been in an rpg before?
- We can help you out. Basically, you're writing a story--with the help of the others in the community. You're responsible for your character's thoughts and actions. If you're confused, just let us know. We have quite a few rp-veterans in this game.

Who ARE all these people?
-A collison of vampire lore. We’ve got original characters, as well as Joss Whedon, Underworld, Laurell K. Hamilton, Stephenie Meyer, and Anne Rice creations wandering around Sunnydale.

What if I want to play Fred? Or Darla? Or any other character that's out of the picture during late S2/S5? Or an Anne Rice vampire that’s dead, according to cannon?
-Apply. If you can write us a good reason why they’re around, we’ll take it and let you run with it. We have at least one character that should be dead in the game. Let your imagination run wild.

Someone already got an original character approved, but I have one I want to put in the game. What do I do?
-Talk to the mods: </a></b>he_never_dreams and </a>lockless_key. The rule was set as one new original per month so we could keep things straight, but we’ll waive that if it’s a great character. Or if you bribe us. The rules aren’t set in stone.

What are these summary things I keep seeing in the OOC?
- They're player-written, quick write-ups of finished scenes. They're very, VERY helpful to all those who didn't participate in the thread, and we really like it when you write 'em up.

What's the memory journal? How do I use it?
- It's </a></b>bloodremembers. Click on the heart on the top of the info page for that journal. Entries are listed by character, or by topic. You can also see our memories from greatestjournal by clicking the link below the banner on the profile page.

What's a facets baddie?
- It's a bad guy. We have an NPC journal for bad guys and things that go bump in the night for use by all players: </a></b></a>facetsbaddies. See the user info page for represented big bads.

Who else is NPC-ed?
- Well, we have certain characters place phone calls to canon characters we don't have. (ie, Anita Blake will speak to Jean-Claude from time to time.) Aside from that, we have a few peripheral characters that are used either occasionally or in one-time only instances (such as dream sequences). We have NPC-ed Lorne and Janice (Dawn's friend), as well as a small handful of other characters. That does not mean you cannot apply to play them! We'll fill you in on what happened with plot, it's all very basic stuff.

Do the vampires know about each other? The different types?
- Yes. Joss Whedon brought Dracula to BTVS; we figure if there's a Dracula, there's a Lestat. The vampires know about each other, but their knowledge depends on the individual and his or her age and experience. They know there are different lines and different species--the rest is up to you.

Tell-a-mask-what?
- Talamasca. It's Anne Rice's organization of historians that watch and record the paranormal. Many of her characters are members; we've taken a different tack. The Talamasca and The Council (Watchers) are different branches of the same organization... kind of like the FBI and CIA, or the Marines and the Army. They know each other and sometimes work together; they even recruit members away from the other. The difference is that The Council and Watchers are much more actively involved in things, whereas the Talamasca records and stands back.

Why is Dawn older than she was in S5?
-Because her mun requested that she be a bit older, and less whiney. See? We're flexible.

How did The Conduit make Saerian into a vampire? Can it do that?
- Do you know it can't do that? In S5 of ATS, it had enough juice to un-ghost Spike. We figure it can vamp people, if inclined. Why not? As for the how... The Conduit assumes the shape and traits of whatever it wants. It was, on the show, a little girl, a panther, and Gunn. For our purposes, it became Phaedra Romani, a 300 year-old vampire. And it used that visage, along with its power, to turn Saerian. Cool?

Lindsey is a vampire. What? How? What?
- Three excellent questions. Okay. Here's the deal: Lindsey was fighting and got stabbed in the stomach. He was bleeding to death. A higher demon/vampire hybrid (Saerian--one of our badder characters) had it in for him. Tara and Willow, with the help of Anita and Jason, knocked the demon out of the body he was occupying, leaving behind a sweet, average guy named Sean. Sean, not wanting Saerian to get what he wanted, turned Lindsey, essentially saving the former lawyer's life in the process.

Why can't I see the player contact info?
- You have to be a member of the game and logged in to see it. We don't give out player email or aim addresses.

Is the OOC community friends-only?
- Mostly. We've had some problems with random, non-game related commenting. To avoid that, most entries are locked.

Who's driving this thing?
- You are. This game is moderated, not led. We all plot and all kick in ideas. That's why it's fun.

sunnydale locations and street names

Sun, 06 Jan 2008 16:51:22 GMT

Locations and Street Names
Here's a list we've made to help with the game, or use as reference for where things are. Please comment if you feel there's something we missed.

Residences
-Summers Residence: 1630 Revello Drive
-Saerian’s house—across town from Buffy’s: 10 Lakewood Lane
-Xander and Anya’s apartment:
-Wes’s apartment: 718 Virginia Street, Apt. D
-Angel’s mansion: outskirts of town
-Cullen house: 994 Ryder Lane; outskirts of town, opposite direction of Angel's mansion

Hotels and motels
-Phaedra’s Hotel: The Sunnydale Inn—Spring Street
-Lindsey and Carr’s Hotel: The Blue Moon Motor Inn-near the mechanic's on Quinn St.

-Restaurants and shops
-The Magic Box: North Main St.
-The Espresso Pump: South Main St.
-The Americana Diner: North Main St.
-The Doublemeat Palace: outskirts of town (opposite direction as Angel’s mansion); River Rd.
-Moe’s Butcher Shop: corner of Acker Ave. and Quinn St.
-Starbucks: 6th St.
-Mechanic/body shop: Quinn St.
-April Fool’s (clothing store): 6th St.
-Vieux Carré, a jazz bar in an alley off River Road
-Cafe Tres Chic, North Main
-Tunes (music shop where Bella works), 56 South Main

Schools and Municipal Offices
-Sunnydale High School/the Hellmouth:
-Sunnydale Elementary and Middle School (same location, different buildings):
-UC Sunnydale—FAR outskirts (you need a car to get here)
- Police station/jail: 110 N. Main
- Fire Department: 56 Magnolia
- City Hall: 117 N. Main

Cemeteries
-Restfield- where Spike’s crypt is
-Sunnydale Memorial Park
-St. Vincent’s
-St. Sebastian’s
-Sleepy Tyme Graveyard

Parks
-near Lindsey’s hotel—Sutherland Park

Bars and clubs
-The Bronze: badder side of town; 8th St.
-Willy’s Place: (The dive bar Anita and Phaedra go to—badder side of town); 17th St. and Marsters
-The Court Jester: South Main

Other
-Warehouse (Angelus/Phaedra thread)- corner of Marsters and 10th, near the docks
-Docks: Hallet Street
-Bus station: 7th
-Sunnydale Hospital: 5th Ave. and Webster Rd.
- Parking lot (where Gunn often leaves his truck): Magnolia St., off of 4th

*Note: North and South Main are the same street, just different sections. Picture it as forking or curving slightly at some point.

taken pbs

Sun, 06 Jan 2008 16:50:10 GMT

taken PBs:
Male

Abraham, John (David Talbot)
Ackles, Jensen (Dean Winchester)
Blucas, Marc (Riley Finn)
Brendan, Nick (Xander Harris)
Butler, Gerard (Cardoc Wallace)
Craig, Daniel (Eric Wolfe)
Denisof, Alexis (Wesley Wyndam-Pryce)
Gascal, Sascha (Dietre Abendroth)
Hunnam, Charlie (Jason Schuyler)
Kane, Christian (Lindsey McDonald)
Ledger, Heath (Chris)
Lowell, Chris (Jasper Hale)
Marsters, James (Spike)
Padalecki, Jared (Sam Winchester)
Schmid, Kyle (Marius)
Ulliel, Gaspard (Edward Cullen)

Female

Acker, Amy (Illyria; may still be used as a PB for Fred)
Alba, Jessica (Honey in the Sunshine)
Beckinsale, Kate (Phaedra Romani)
Benson, Amber (Tara Maclay)
Browning, Emily (Bella Swan)
Cook, Rachel Leigh (Alice Cullen)
Dawson, Rosario (Merrick Mayfair)
Dushku, Eliza (Faith Lehane)
Gellar, Sarah Michelle (Buffy Summers)
Hannigan, Allyson (Willow Rosenberg)
Lee, Amy (Crystal Darkin)
McGowan, Rose (Anita Blake)
Romanov, Stephanie (Lilah Morgan)
Tal, Alona (Jo Harvelle)
Trachtenberg, Michelle (Dawn Summers)
Tyler, Liv (Niklas Thompson-Wright)
Winslet, Kate (Jesse Reeves)

PBs used for previously-played canon characters* (holy alliteration, batman)

Bellucci, Monica (Eleni, The Vampire Chronicles)
Bloom, Orlando (Nicki de Lenfent, The Vampire Chronicles)
Caulfield, Emma (Anyanka Jenkins, BtVS)
Fimmel, Travis (Lestat de Lioncourt, The Vampire Chronicles)
Gordon-Levitt, Joseph (Armand, The Vampire Chronicles)
Kramer, Clare (Glory, BtVS; character is deceased)
Landau, Juliet (Drusilla, BtVS</a>)
Leto, Jared (Asher, Laurell K. Hamilton series)
Phoenix, River (Daniel Malloy, The Vampire Chronicles)
Weber, Charlie (Ben, BtVS; character is deceased)
Wilde, Olivia (Pandora de Romanus, The Vampire Chronicles)

*If you are picking up a character that was once played by someone else, you are NOT bound to use the same PB. This is simply for reference.

We do ask that you not use actors from ATS or BTVS if they may come into play in this game. For example, please do not ask to use J. August Richards just because we do not yet have a Charles Gunn. Everyone else is fair game, including Firefly cast members (with the exception of Gina Torres, Summer Glau, and Adam Baldwin, who had featured roles on ATS.)

Graveyard
used PBs from original characters: These PBs can never be used again, as their characters are the intellectual property of writers either no longer involved in the game OR the character they represent was written out of the story line.

Argento, Asia/Luna and Lusa von Bern
Myavi/Mao
PittMichael/Tristan Aberdeen
Scabbia, Cristina /Charlie
Townsend, Stuart/Saerian/Sean Mullen
Ulrich, Skeet /Vincenzo Quinti
Way, Gerard /Cavan Darling

apply!

Sun, 06 Jan 2008 16:36:00 GMT

application

-Your name:
-Your email address:
-Your aim or yahoo sn (specify):
-Your ooc journal:
-Time Zone (we wonder):

-Character Name:
-PB:
-Age:
-Gender:
-Birth Place:
-Species:
-Category (Original or canon? Joss Whedon, Anne Rice, Laurell K. Hamilton?... please note that if you are playing an original character, you must STILL pick a 'verse. Let us know what rules you are following)):
-Sexual Orientation:
-Family:

-Physical Description:
-Eye Color:
-Hair Color:
-Height:
-Weight:
-Scars:
-Piercings:
-Tattoos:

-Personality:
-Quirks/Traits:
-Likes:
-Dislikes:
-Obsessions:
-Friends:
-Enemies:
-Love Interest:
-Pets:

-History (from the beginning to now; assume we don't know anything about your character, other than what you've already provided above):

-Talents:
-Strengths:
-Weaknesses:
-Long-Term Goals:
-Short Term Goals:
-Other things you feel are relevant:

-What your character thinks of those they’ve met: (please list those characters in the game your character has interacted with and their impressions of them; also list characters yours would already know of coming into this—-ex:, Giles would know Buffy, a Talamasca member would know of David Talbot, etc.):

-Who your character would like to meet:

-Writing sample! Write us a short scene with an NPC or a journal entry from your character’s point of view. Please make it at least two paragraphs.

Please fill out and email to the mods: Lauren (lauren108@gmail.com) and Kitty (power.played@gmail.com). You'll hear from us soon. Put your character's name and Facets in the subject line.

wanted, dead or alive

Sun, 06 Jan 2008 16:30:46 GMT

Bobby
Ellen
The Yellow-Eyed Demon
other hunters
Demons (original characters welcome!)
Ghosts (original characters welcome!)
Vampires (original characters welcome!)
Werewolves (original...yeah, okay, you get it by now...)
Things that go bump in the night

Angel
Anya
Lilah
Oz
Giles
Charles Gunn
Lorne
Darla
Cordelia Chase
Original Wolfram and Hart characters

Jacob Black
Rosalie Hale
Emmett Cullen
Carlisle Cullen
Esme Cullen
Charlie Swan
any La Push wolves

Lestat de Lioncourt
Gabrielle de Lioncourt
Louis de Pointe Du Lac
Pandora
Armand
Rowan Mayfair
Mona Mayfair
Quinn Blackwood

Asher
Richard
Nathaniel
Micah
Edward
Ronnie Simms
Rafael
Other Animators
(contact Anita, st_louis_slayer, if interested in Jean-Claude)

Note: Dead characters are NOT off-limits, even though they are not listed here. We are on a Hellmouth, people! We also really, really like were-animals and big bads.

If you don't see someone listed here, that doesn't mean we don't want them! Characters, any characters, from the above fandoms are welcome. Original characters always welcome; please see the FAQ for more information.

HOLDS last for one week from the date WE, the moderators, reply to your comment left below. After that point, we will put the held character back up for grabs.

taken characters

Sun, 06 Jan 2008 16:16:38 GMT


abendroth, dietre	blake, anita	schuyler, jason	wallace, cardoc


mayfair, merrick	romanus, marius de	reeves, jesse	talbot, david


chris	drusilla	finn, riley	harris, xander	illyria

lehane, faith	lockley, kate	macclay, tara	rosenberg, willow	spike

summers, buffy	summers, dawn	wolfe, eric	wyndam, wesley


cullen, alice	cullen, edward	cullen, jasper	swan, bella


harvelle, jo	winchester, dean	winchester, sam


bad guys npc	mcdonald, lindsey	romani, phaedra	thompson, niklas

A note: Characters are listed according to the mythology they follow. Original characters, therefore, are listed among canon. Cross-overs follow two sets of rules OR have background in more than one fandom.

'verses and accepted fandoms

Sun, 06 Jan 2008 15:55:14 GMT

No power in the 'verse can stop us
SPECIES and ‘VERSES

Facets is a combination of ‘verses, including creatures like vampires, demons, slayers, werecreatures, and others. Please remember that this is only a rough summary of each ‘verse, and sometimes it’s good to pick up a book

Anne Rice vampires cannot be killed by a stake. They can only be killed by fire and sunlight. They also cannot have sex, and they do not eat. They must rest, at least, during the day. Really ancient vampires, like The First Brood, are most likely unkillable and may be able to walk around during the day.

Laurell K. Hamilton vampires can be killed--they have to be staked(as in the heart being removed), beheaded, and burnt to ashes. High-caliber guns will work just as well as stakes, though the bullets must be silver(as well as the stake). Holy objects hurt them when wielded by someone who believes.

They have animals to call (ie, Jean-Claude's animal is the wolf), can have human servants, and tend to be specific types of vamps. (ie, Jean-Claude and Belle Morte’s line are incubi/succubi). These vamps can (and DO) have sex. Do your research. There are also Master Vampires for specific cities--these have more power and mojo than regular vamps.

Hamilton werewolves and wereanimals are part of clans. Each clan has specific traits. There are pretty much were-everything: Hamilton has werewolves, wereleopards, wererats, and even a wereswan. Again, do your homework.

Jossverse vampires can be killed by a stake, but if you are playing a slayer, ASK first. Ask the mods, AND the player of the vamp you want to take out. Just don’t be staking people right and left. We’d like to keep our main characters. Also, they can be killed by sunlight and fire (unless they happen to have found the Gem of Amara). These vampires, with the exception of Angel, also do not have souls.

Joss's wolves can have control of how they change and when they change, but it takes work. They can be incapacitated by tranquilizer darts or silver bullets. Their senses are different than those of 'normal' people. Oz was always able to smell Willow; Veruca and Oz were always able to sense each other.

Note: There are two canon slayers, that’s it, and Spike has not yet gone on his redemptive quest. Hell, he may not go at all. If you are considering an Angel character, or a late- BTVS series character, just run the specs by the mods. We’ll most likely allow it as long as you can explain it well.

Stephenie Meyer's vampires have reddish eyes, unless they are like the Cullens and choose to be 'vegetarians.' They CAN, and do, go out in the sun... though their appearance is generally so dazzling that they try not to do this. Some of them have special powers, like Edward, Rosalie, and Jasper... please do your homework. Also, please note that for original characters of this type, we will not allow all the vampires to have special powers. There have to be SOME that are, uh, normal, for lack of a better way to put it. They're very difficult to kill, but werewolves can do it; the method discussed is ripping them to pieces. They can eat, but don't need food at all and mainly just sit food in front of them to look like they're eating. They never sleep, and therefore never dream.

Meyer's wolves 'run hot,' in Jacob Black's words. Their body temperatures are always up around 108, and they can shift at will, with or without a moon. Usually just being upset will work. They tend to hunt in packs, and were created for the express purpose of hunting vampires. There is a pack hierarchy; there are alpha males. Again, please check into these things. Makes everything easier all around.

Supernatural vampires are a little different than anything listed above. They mate for life, for starters, and some are 'vegetarians,' but mostly they feed on humans. They can pick up your scent and track you for life. Dead Man's Blood (the actual blood of a dead man) acts like poison on them; a stake through the heart isn't going to cut it.

Werewolves are, in Dean's words, "badass." They are shapeshifters that cannot control themselves once they are in wolf form--no matter how much they want to. DO NOT come to us asking to be a werewolve from this genre with the capability of control. It just ain't possible. (For reference, see the season two episode 'Heart.') A silver bullet takes them down.

NOTE: This fandom has so many demons and other urban myths and ghosts and things that go bump in the night that it is almost possible to make up your own rules. For ghosts, though, and anything else that has been seen on the show, we will follow canon. If you don't, we'll get out the shotgun, the rock salt, and the lighter and torch your bones. You won't come back from it. Kisses.

RULES

Sun, 06 Jan 2008 15:42:01 GMT

the rules.
1. Original, non-canon characters will be accepted by the moderator at a rate of one per month. With so many different universes colliding, we need to keep track. Email us with your request, or, if you are already a player, make a separate post with “new original character” in the subject line. This rule is flexible.

2. All vampires, werewolves, demons, etc., follow the rules of their creator. *see later posts for more information*

3. You may play four cannon characters at a time. That means less than five. Four shall be the number of the counting, and the number of the counting shall be FOUR. You may play a total of 4-5 characters. This number is dependent on your activity in the game, and what other players and the mods feel you can handle. If you post often as your characters, we're very apt to let you take up to five, possibly six... but you may NOT play more than four cannon characters at any time. A sixth character is dependent upon your keeping up with ALL your posting for ALL your characters, and this will be determined on a case-by-case basis.

4. To request a canon character, please email the mods and fill out an application. In your email, please put “Facets” and the name of the character you’re applying for in the subject line.

5. If you are bringing an original vampire character into the game, please ASK before writing that they are so-and-so’s fledgeling. Contact the player of the character you’d like to have sired your character. If you do not do this, we reserve the right to boot your character from the game.

6. Each character must post or reply to a post a minimum of once per week. If you cannot do this for a period of time, contact the mods and we’ll figure out a way to work that into the plot. Of course, we’d love you to post more often; the more you post, the faster the game moves!

7. You must interact with other characters--whether it's on the boards(where the formal role-playing will occur) or between journals. And we don't mean just one or two constantly, try to interact with more than that, this game is host to a variety of characters for a reason!

8. Moderator decisions are final. Don’t ask us to change them; chances are, if we’ve decided something, it could negatively impact the game for us to change our minds.

9. We want your input! This game is yours as much as it is ours. If you have an idea, let us know.

10. If you’re playing a canon character, and we feel you’re getting away from their true nature, we’re going to tell you. Please don’t take it personally—it happens from time to time. We’ll help you get back on track. We’re good like that.

11. You must be at least 15 years old to play. This game WILL contain slash (and probably porn). We’re not going to be responsible for warping really, really young minds.

12. Have fun!