January 9th, 2005
|10:27 pm - Back on Track|
Hi all, you might have noticed I wasn't tagging/posting these past two weeks. Sadly my puter went kaput for a while and had to get new parts and a reformat, and I was on leave and couldn't post from work to let you all know. I'm back online now though and hope to do the catch up thing this week with Kate and Lilah!
PS: Do we have a new Lindsey yet? And Meg!!! We need to talk re: our plottiness. Also, Jo, I'll try and get AIM up and running so we can talk Kate/Buffy plottage.
October 23rd, 2004
|12:11 am - Hitting the Curb|
I'd failed. There were no other words for it, to describe what had just happened. I stumbled along with Groo, back out onto the street, his hands at my waist urging me onward even though my knee felt ready to give way under my weight. I wanted to scream at him, berate him to go back inside and try something else, but in my heart I knew that we were out-matched, if we hadn't retreated when we did, we would've been dead now. Or worse.
If only I'd been stronger, or more prepared. If I'd stuck sooner, and not allowed Angelus' jibes to get to me, distracting me, making me hesitate to do what needed to be done. "You know, if you wanted to dance, Katie, you shoulda' just asked." He'd known all along how I'd felt about Angel, and he'd used it against me.
And now that poor girl would suffer because I'd failed her.
The expression on her face in those final moments was etched into my brain, the fear, the terrible certainty that the nightmare was only just beginning.
Once we'd made it further down the street, I shoved Groo's hands away from me.
"Damn it, they still had her! We just left her there." I hissed at him, needing a target for my pent up feelings of anger and despair. "God knows what they'll do to her."
I half stalked, half hobbled to where my bike was parked. Picking up the helmet, I looked at it blankly for a few seconds and then with an almighty yell, threw it against a nearby dumpster as hard as I could. I needed to break something, release all of my frustration somehow. I followed up with a kick and then grimaced with pain when I realised I'd used the already damaged leg, and had to lean on the bike for a moment to catch my breath. Finally, I got myself together enough to lift my head and look at Groo.
"What do we do now?" I asked, hating the way my voice sounded. So flat, so void of hope.
(open to Groo and eventually those at the Hyperion)
Current Mood: distressed
September 28th, 2004
|08:25 pm - Going Full Tilt|
Only a crazy person would attempt this. I knew that. But hell, I guess that was what I'd become. For him.
Crazy Katie with a capital 'K'. I'd left them all at the Hyperion, screw them, I'd thought. Fucking fair-weather friends. But I hadn't been there, seen what they'd seen. I couldn't really blame them for backing out at the last minute.
Still, like I said, I wasn't a quitter. Not now, anyway. Trying to off myself had given me some much needed clarity. That, and Angel's talk afterwards.
"If there is no great glorious end to all this, if - nothing we do matters, - then all that matters is what we do. 'Cause that's all there is. What we do, now, today. - I fought for so long. For redemption, for a reward - finally just to beat the other guy, but... I never got it."
I'd looked at him and asked, "And now you do?"
"Not all of it. All I wanna do is help. I wanna help because - I don't think people should suffer, as they do. Because, if there is no bigger meaning, then the smallest act of kindness - is the greatest thing in the world."
Angel had had an epiphany, and in doing so he'd passed on something I'd needed to hear. Nothing in my life had been as transformative as meeting him, knowing him.
So I had to try. No matter what the stakes, I had to believe I was here for a reason. I wanted to believe.
I circled the block where Wolfram and Hart stood several times, trying to get a feel for its layout, its entrances. Finally I parked the bike a good hundred yards away, not wanting to draw undue attention. I ditched the helmet, checked that my weapons were in place, and drew my trusty glock .45 auto and begin to walk slowly towards a side door I'd spotted on the east side. I was thinking that would be the best way in, or maybe through the parking garage. I padded stealthily to the entrance I'd picked and tried the door but it was locked. After a few tries I gave up and made for the lower level parking garage, keeping my gun down at my side, who knew if security cameras where in place or not. What mattered was I was doing my best, doing what I could to bring Angel back.
(open to Groo and anyone near W&H)
Current Mood: determined
September 21st, 2004
After the ghost of my dad had gone I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to get a goddamn grip. Was I going out of my mind? Had my father really been here in the room with me? Or had I finally flipped, taken that one step closer to becoming the mad woman who stood on the curb shouting at imaginary people that the end was coming.
That wasn't my father, I kept telling myself as I paced back and forth, trying to process what had just happened. Not my father. His body was mouldering in his grave, food for the worms, and his soul...it was safe. I had to believe that, I didn't think I could deal with the idea of him being trapped somewhere in between this world and the next.
Not my father. And yet there was a nagging doubt in my heart. This apparition, this image of my dad, it had been so real. His mannerisms, his inflections, he'd known things about me, known how to cut into me without even trying.
What had been the point of his visit? A warning? A message meant only for me? The one thing that stood out was that he'd mentioned Angel several times, accused me of carrying on his 'insane crusade' in the hopes of seeing him again. There was a kernel of truth in that, some part of me did hope to run into Angel again, but I'd balked at visiting him at his hotel.
Last time I'd seen him I'd been a total wreck, post-attempted suicide and with the bad hair from hell. I'd thought about going to see him, once I'd got my shit together, to say thank you and tell him I'd taken his words to heart, but something had stopped me. I guess I'd wanted to prove that I could do this, stand on my own two feet, without him hovering at my elbow to catch me.
Things had changed though. I needed to check in on him, my back was up and I trusted my hunches. I needed to reassure myself that Angel was ok.
I grabbed my jacket and weapons and headed for the door. It had been a long time since I'd been to the Hyperion, what if he'd moved on? I'd deal with that later I guess. Pretty soon I was on my bike and headed out to the hotel. When I finally got there I took off my helmet and strode up the steps to the front door.
Why was this so hard? Just knock on the door already.
Current Mood: confused
|10:12 pm - Keeping the Faith|
I knew I was going to be too late. I'm always too late. The screams had already subsided into a death rattle. But didn't mean I couldn't clean up afterwards. Make sure it didn't happen again. If nothing we do matters, then all that matters is what we do. He taught me that. Words to live by.
So I ran down the side alley, gun at the ready and came upon the grisly scene I'd known I would find. Two scaly looking demons crouched over a bloody corpse. Good, demons, at least I wouldn't need to break out the cross and holy water crap. They were already snacking on the girl, slurping and crunching with the kind of relish that turned my stomach. God, I hoped she was already dead.
"What is it with you scumbags? The sun goes out for while and you suddenly think LA's your damn slayground? Murder, mayhem, is this all just a sick game to you?" I kept my gun trained on the one nearest to me, waiting for the right opportunity to shoot.
"Oooh, fresh meat." One of the demons grunted. The sound was guttural, menacing.
"We humans are just meat to you, huh? Defenseless cattle to be slaughtered one by one. An all-you-can-eat buffet. That it? Well, this cow isn't fucking taking it lying down. "
Ok, I was laying it on thick and fast with the cliches but something about pounding demon-heads into the sidewalk just made me slip into the cynical one-liners.
The first demon snarled and lunged at me and I got off three shots into its chest. It reeled back, mewling in pain. The second caught me off guard, having flanked me as I'd fired, and I felt a flare of pain in my side as the asshole raked me with its claws. I stumbled back and shot it in the head point blank. It slumped to the ground with a gurgling sigh. One piece of shit down, another one to go.
It was staggering away from me. Awwwh I guess I'd hurt it pretty bad.
"Doesn't feel so good when you are on the receiving end does it?"
I emptied the rest of the clip into its back, and then pulled out a machete from my waistband. You could never be too sure with demons. Took a while but soon I had both heads severed and tossed in the nearest dumpster.
I didn't want to, but I went back to check on the victim. She'd deserved better than being disembowelled in an empty street. Her glassy eyes stared up at the blackened sky, and her mouth was open in an 'o' like she'd just got a surprise she didn't like. I closed her lids and said a little prayer over what was left of her.
Too late for her. But maybe not for someone else. I sighed and stood up, then hissed at the painful tug in my side. I supposed I'd better get that cleaned and sterilised before I did anything else tonight.
I headed back home, not bothering to check the mail as I climbed the stairs to my dank apartment. Why bother with the mundane shit when there was a war going on outside your door? I tossed my weapons on my rumpled bed when I entered, and then moved to bolt and lock the door. I was starting to get a rep and would probably have to move on soon. Like I was going to miss this dump?
I worked on patching myself up, cleaning the wound with the vodka I kept handy. I took a deep gulps of the liquor. Dulling the pain, I told myself. Then I covered the gash with a gauze bandage. I got up from the table and wandered listlessly over to the window, gazing out over the city. Maybe I'd stay in. I'd done enough for one night hadn't I? It wasn't like I had to keep to a nine to five schedule anymore. Couldn't go back to the force, not after all that had gone down. I knew what went bump in the night now, and I couldn't just stand by and act like it wasn't happening.
I absentmindedly sucked on the vodka bottle some more, then when to check on my stash of funds. What was left of my severance. It was getting pretty low. I was gonna have to pawn something else. What did I have left though? I dug through my box of junk, finally pulling out dad's gold pocket watch. It had been a retirement gift from his buddies on the force. I caressed its cold metallic surface, running my fingertips over the engraving on the back of it.
Corporal Trevor J. Lockley LAPD 6873. For 32 years of faithful police service.,/i>
I wiped at my eyes and placed it carefully back in the box and shut the lid.
Current Mood: restless