| Didn't say I actually relished bein' the one to put the notion out there... |
[Oct. 18th, 2004|06:29 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  apathetic | ] |
Hope nobody's got a notion of killing the messenger and whatnot. Still just a theory, after all. But, still, don't see why nobody else sussed it out.
Drogyn shows up in LA, after Peaches roughs him up. Drogyn goes missing. Some sort of rampaging bastard wearin' the skin of a demon comes 'round, all god-king like, plucked out of the very place Drogyn was keepin' an eye on. Last one to see the bloke alive? Angel. During his "I'm-doing-whatever-it-takes-to-bring-the-Circle-down" period.
Ergo...
*shrug* Well, 's not calculus, children. You do the math. The way he got so bloody defensive about it rather speaks volumes, I'd say. |
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| Bunch of rot, this night's been. |
[Sep. 30th, 2004|05:27 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  depressed | ] |
Really don't so much fancy gettin' beaten down by great hulking creatures, thanks. Charlie's acting a trifle oddly, and not just 'cause of the tremendous kicking of our asses. S'pose I rather let it slip that Harris caught sight of Blue all decked out as Fred. Seemed to unnerve him, hearin' about that. Can't say I bloody well blame him, though -- don't care to see Illyria looking like the dear science bird ever again.
All in all, not the greatest evening ever. |
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| You know you're in a bad way... |
[Sep. 9th, 2004|10:30 am] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | uncomfortable | ] |
... when you actually look forward to comin' back home to your flatmate, whom you generally loathe.
And what's more irritating than sussing out you and yours've been the target of a most ridiculous spell? Why, it'd be appearing on a bloody chat show with your ex and her other ex.
That's not something I care to relive. Ever.
Though the photo shoot was a spot of fun. |
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| Good thing I found a quality liquor store. |
[Aug. 17th, 2004|09:41 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | discontent | ] |
Only things I need for a right good evenin' are just a nice bottle of Jager and a pack of smokes. Don't even give a toss that there's no lights in the bloody flat upstairs. Nothing's good or right or got any bleeding purpose to it at present. Goin' to just sit 'round and try my damndest to forget.
Good thing nobody's about, 'cause I'd rather stake myself than talk to anyone. 'Course, staking myself doesn't seem too bad an option, either, really. |
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| Bugger all this. |
[Jul. 15th, 2004|08:03 am] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  pissed off | ] |
Harris is in for a world of hurt if he so much as looks at the blue meanie the wrong way. Bloody well fit to be tied 'ere, I am, after seein' what I did the other day.
Still not entirely sure how it all came about, but whatever happened, I'm pissed as hell at both of 'em. Illyria's got no right to be prancin' about lookin' like Fred, and the whelp's got no business to be asking her to. Not listening to either of their excuses about it, either. Harris didn't know the girl, and why the devil is it all right for the thing that killed her to be... to be doing that? Just wrong, 's all.
Can't take even thinking about it. Disturbing as hell. They don't know what it was like to lose her, to know she fought so hard not to die... never even got to be there at the last, give the sweet bird a proper goodbye and whatnot. Still hurts a helluva lot, that does. |
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| Think I drank too much. No one is likely shocked. |
[Jul. 9th, 2004|09:24 am] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | crappy | ] |
Still nursin' a multiple-day hangover. Pisser, that. Ever since I tried to reach out to the 'bit, 's like I started to get a sense of feelin' about as useful as a fifty-year-old rubber. Apparently, there was some sort of search out for a new Slayer in town, and I'm bloody well happy to steer clear of that sort of mission. Last time I found one of those bints, didn't go so well.
'Least Peaches is out of the flat, but that likely means Red might start makin' noise about me movin' on out m'self. Not sure where to go, really. Last place I had was bought and paid for, all mysterious-like.
I'll suss it out after a few hundred more hours of sleep, I s'pose. |
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| Not sure if it'll do any bloody good... |
[Jun. 29th, 2004|06:55 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  nostalgic | ] |
Went out last night and happened upon somethin' that I thought might catch a certain girl's fancy. Seemed all over appropriate and whatnot. I was goin' to give it to her when I got home, but she'd already gone to sleep. Figure I'll try to get up the nerve later. Lovely thing, it is, and God knows I owe the little one so much more than this'll ever make up for.
There was a time not so very long ago when she would've let me do anything for her... closest thing I'd ever had to a sister or a daughter or whatnot. Seems if I can't muster up the courage to talk to the Slayer 'bout why I never rang up and said, "Right, see, I'm not so very dead anymore," I could at least try to reach the niblet. 'Tis up to her, of course. If she won't have it, I'll not push. |
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| Well, that's just sort of sad, really. |
[Jun. 23rd, 2004|08:13 am] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | tired | ] |
Y'know, the ponce has been in a near-constant state of high alert these past few weeks, sure as hell that the Senior Partner buggers were still of a mind to send off another round of demons, but that would appear not to be the case. 'Least that's the word from this Oracle whatsit we talked to.
Let me back up a tick.
All of us were just rather sittin' around, waitin' for some kind of attack or what have you, when Red got rung up by Andrew that it might do us good to talk to some sort of all-knowing bloke, a fellow the Watcher folks heard about. Angel, Will, the Slayer, and I went out there to find 'im, see if he knew when the last remainders of old Evil Incorporated were planning on mounting an attack. The thing was, he claimed they're not going to attack, that our last stand back in LA managed to smack 'em down good and proper after all.
Now, I'm willing to bloody well take this news at face value, but I just don't know if Peaches is. He seems almost disappointed in a truly demented way 'bout the whole thing. Yeah, I can appreciate that one spends several years fightin' an enemy, only to have 'em taken out so quickly... well, that can be a bit of a mind bender. For my part, though, I'm more than content to write the bastards off as being far more pathetic than we'd imagined. Frankly, what killed me 'bout last night wasn't so much this news, but it was watching him talk to Buffy... didn't like that, even if it wasn't as if they were getting on well. 'Course, not like I've tried to reach out to 'er much at all m'self. Harris intimated on more than one occasion how much she grieved for me, and how bleedin' weird it is for her to find out all of a sudden that not only am I not deader than usual, but that I didn't bother to tell her.
Don't think now's the time to attempt to explain why I didn't say anything. Complicated, that. When I was still all ghostly-like, didn't think there was any news to tell, and when I was finally my old self again...
Well, all right, yeah. Could've said something then. Should've. Not entirely sure why I didn't, more I think on it. Fear, I'd wager, was the crux of it. Why is it I got no qualms 'bout goin' headlong into battle with hardly a backward glance, but when it comes to talking to her...
Ah, sod it. There'll be a time and place to sort things out. Right now, just a bit knackered from everything and in great need of sleep. |
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| Not the way I would've liked a reunion. |
[Jun. 17th, 2004|12:10 am] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | sore | ] |
Peaches got it into his head to take us all off to San Diego of all places. Bit hazy on the why, but there's some semblance of a reason in his thick skull. Charlie boy's been still firmly entrenched in dreamland, and Illyria's gone all quiet-like.
Weirdest thing about this whole business was who we ran into at the airport. Harris. With some fairly heart-wrenchin' news 'bout his poor demon girl. Dear An, that was a bit of a blow hearin' that she didn't make it out of the sodding Hellmouth. Gonna miss that one. S'pect pirate lad didn't take the news of Cordelia's demise any better, though. Shocks all 'round and such.
We met up with the rest of the little gang of good down at a fountain square sort of a spot later. Red was a trifle dazed and confused, as was the Slayer. Think she's pissed as hell at me. Looked more beautiful than ever, that one... could almost forget all that bollocks 'bout the Immortal bastard.
Thing is, we need their help, 'cause those demon hordes aren't givin' up, I'd wager. Get some other powerful types on our side and we just might stand a chance. 'S all I'm tryin' to focus on at present. |
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| Seems I didn't wind up dead this time 'round. Which I'd wager is a bit of a disappointment to some. |
[Jun. 15th, 2004|08:53 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  gloomy | ] |
Right, so... last few weeks've been bloody well spent attempting to recover from all manner of injuries to my person. Vampire healing aside, I've had a helluva rough go of it. Excepting the time I actually didn't survive (and possibly also not counting the unfortunate slicin'-off-of-my-arms incident), this was decidedly the worst spate of battle wounds I've sustained. In the end, most of us made it out in one piece, though. Bit of a pisser the great poof still walks among us, but I can't be too ungrateful to 'im at present. Was his plan that worked, at least buying us some time and whatnot.
See, that's the thing. They still might be out there, after us, even now. The blue meanie's watchin' over Charlie boy at hospital, and it's a trifle frustrating not to see about pullin' 'em out of there, lightning-quick, right the hell now. This city's given us the sweet F.A. in no uncertain terms, and I don't feature stickin' 'round any longer than absolutely necessary. "I wanna see how it ends" my arse. Know how it ends, always ends, with either Peaches or m'self gettin' turned to ash or run through with a great, gleamin' sword. Sod that.
Expect we got to wait and see... see what Angel wants to do... see how hurt Gunn is, if he can travel and what have you. But I'm very much of a mind to leave. No shame in fleein' the enemy, 'specially when the enemy's got hell itself as backup. |
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