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[12 Dec 2005|07:32am]

Sometimes you don't have to be in the big battle to suffer. I wasn't. I stood away from the final end and watched from the corner of my eye.


Yeah, I may be a coward but I am alive. And the ones that I had to hide away from life, well they aren't so who's the bigger fool?

I couldn't save my best friend. No Izzy wasn't among the dead. Hell, I don't know what Iz is up to these days. In the days and weeks and now it's a year, we haven't talked. Somehow fate got us to that place and she did her thing and I did mine. Which wasn't doing a thing at all.

There ain't no golden apple at the end of the tree. There's still gonna be demons and shit the rest of the world don't wanna see. That I don't wanna see. Don't have a choice really there, they feel me, I feel them. Just don't go out looking for it as much. Just when that urge comes up and I can't do anything about it.

I live quietly now. No false illisions that I am gonna find love and get the big picture frame of a real family. It's true, not for Slayers. We don't get the loot, just the crap that comes with the little chosen to be champions gig. Maybe some of them find it. I have to hope for that, somewhere there's some Slayers running around with pampers in one hand and a stake in another. But I ain't thinking I am one of the lucky ones.

Never heard from J.C. again. Figure he went hiding or Cain had orders for him to go down.

I do wish I knew though. Just, maybe for some closure. But then I would have to revisit that time. Where I was his.

It's funny. All that time I thought I was doing something noble and I was probaly just as much a pawn in Cain's plans as most of them was.

Thing is they won. They beat the bad guy. Everything should be peachy now, right?

Life ain't like that. We are born. We breath. We pay taxes and we die. Sometimes we get a piece of happiness, a little glimpse of something better but in the end we die. I'm just buying time now, until my end. Until that night I am too tired to keep playing around with the evil in this world. And then maybe there's peace.

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Two Shells Together [11 Dec 2005|07:36pm]

[ mood | sleepy ]

Blood covered my hands.

It had been done. It had been draining. Willow was about... somewhere. Where? I was lying upon the battleground, broken and humiliated as I had been before by Hamilton.

Yet this time, there would be no vengeance for me, for my vengeance had been found. My brothers, who had slept so peacefully for eons in the Deeper Well, could rest at last. As Cain had drained them of their energies, so had we defeated him, depleted him of his.

I coughed once... twice. My eyes became heavy with what felt like sleep. It was then that I realized I was resting upon the ground, my body numb to everything. No songs or dances could be found upon the wind, no waves of energy shifted toward me.


Where was Willow? Where was...

"Wesley," I spoke, seeing him approach me. I was humbled before him, yet for once it did not matter. There was something within his eyes as he stared at me, and I could not place it. Pity? Fear that he would finally lose the only thing left that reminded him of his lost love?

"Cain is dead. I have... completed my quest at last." My quest for vengeance, true, but I was uncertain of my other one - to understand. To seek. To find.

I attempted to stand, but found I could not move, save my arms slightly. My left hand rose toward him, my eyes locked to his. "I shall be dead in minutes." I pondered my next words carefully.

"Do not... leave me. Yet. I stayed with you after Vail... stay."

((Open to Wesley))

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The Stand [11 Dec 2005|02:10pm]

“Kill them all.”

VignettesCollapse )
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[07 Jul 2005|11:56pm]

Genesis had been waiting. Waiting this whole time and praying. She knew that Giles would get there. It would only be a matter of time. He promised that he would come and find her. They loved each other. Nothing was going to break that bond, and she'd do whatever she had to to make sure that didn't happen. But first she just needed to stay alive until he got there. Which, thankfully she'd been successful at so far.

Mostly because you could cut the tension between Cain and Kennedy with a knife. It was beyond coldness. It was downright terrifying. She didn't want to know what had gone on when she wasn't there. Her hands still hurt, she ached and she wanted nothing more to be out of there. She wanted to see her brother, and mostly, she just wanted to close the damn Gate.

It was humming so loud, she could barely think. Barely hear anything else besides it. She thought her head might explode. That would be all she needed. Taken out by a humming Gate when help was so close she could feel it.

And that's when things changed. The door opened and all Genesis could do was breathe a sigh of relief. No matter what came next, she knew he would come. And there he was. With Faith. Thank god. He was there.

He was there.

And maybe now this nightmare could end.
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[01 Jul 2005|01:55am]

He'd managed to wipe clean most of Ethan's blood from his hands, but the imagery wasn't lost on Rupert. He'd brought this about; his inaction to stop Cain at the beginning when the plot was revealed, the inability to lead his friends into battle when they practically demanded it of him. There was so much blood on his hands over the years: Jenny, Anya, Buffy...

Rupert daubed the cold cloth over his face one last time before exiting the hotel room. He strode quickly down the hallway to the elevator, relieved that it was waiting for him. He hadn't been paying attention and nearly bowled over the brunette who exited as he moved forward.

"Sorry, I--", his voice caught. Rupert knew they would follow, but silently hoped the group would arrive after his confrontation with Jason Cain. In fact, he'd preferred they'd never had to see this fight. But his heart dared beat again as he realized the girl in question was...


Cowards, Blood and the Big BattleCollapse )

Faith nodded in agreement. She didnt' mean for it to sound like a goodbye speech, but now that she thought about it, it kinda did.

She looked at him and shook her head with that ever present smirk.

"Can't do it G-man. Ain't my style. 'Sides, that name? Too stuffy for you. Makes ya sound like some tweed wearin' librarian or somethin'."

Laughing, she walked past him and into the basement.

"What's wrong with tweed?" he called out, following Faith into the basement.
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[30 Jun 2005|09:47pm]

I should be tired. Every muscle in my body should be screaming for the rest I was sure that they needed. After all, I had been careless and abusing the past few days. To the extent that I couldn't let go of the care for anytime long enough to really sleep. Faith and I had talked most of the flight over from England, me curled up on the sofa of the media room as she took down countless whatever-they-weres on whatever game it was. That wasn't the whatever that mattered, not that I was ready to delve into the ever, or the what. This wasn't the time, and for once that seemed the mature answer.

I used to think that it was fear that kept Buffy alone when she desperatey, seemingly didn't want to be lonely. At least from where I had watched and lived in the place of best friend. But I was beginning to reevaluate that postition, standing somewhere different as I was. A little bit less a friend, and a little bit more a leader. Not just a leader, because I don't know if it was really who I was. But I did feel like Willow again, and even if I didn't know what that meant? I knew what it felt like. I was actually reveling in what it felt like, fear of the world ending aside. It was right up there with the reasons to make sure it went on.

No more than half a dozen of the others were here in Vegas with me right now.

The entire trip from the airport to the hotel I couldn't take my eyes off Illyria and Wes, wondering in the part where I placed the 'and' between them. Not the connection that Illyria had wanted for so long, and the one that Wes had avoided for even longer, but there was more definitely still an and. And? I treasured it a bit too much. It scared me how close we had all become in the past few months, considering how unintended it all had been. So, did that mean it was desperation? Or something as close to destiny as we ever got? All I know what I felt when I looked at them. It was so much safer when I didn't care this way, but back to the part when I finally felt like me again? I had never done well with distance.

It was why the Council nearly killed me.

I suppose that should be a part of tonight, or at least it could be. Getting some back. Pushing in the way they had pushed me, manipulating Buffy's death and fabricating Dawn's until I didn't know which way was up anymore. Only -- down. Down to where the bodies, and everything else that was broken went. They had wanted her, a side of me I had desperately wanted to pretend didn't exhist. And thanks to Faith and Giles, they had failed. Faith had ripped me out of a place I was mindlessly ready to stay in, and Giles had reached me when I was determined not to be. They didn't get her, and -- and there was that word again -- I stopping trying to pretend anymore. She was simply more of the story, more of me.

They had wanted her? Cain had wanted her?

Maybe tonight I would let him see.

Tne bag of supplies fell heavy at my side, and with one hand I tried to lift it up a bit. I hated the color the nessecery ingredients had formed, distinct in their three seperate jars. Crimson and dark, it called up images of Sunnydale...and other things. Other people. Soon enough the jars would break and my part in all this would start, and I would just have to remember to keep looking up. Becuase if I didn't, I knew I would be unable to stop watching. To make sure that no other red mixed with what I had chosen to make.

I hadn't changed that much.

Impulsively I leaned over to brush Faith's shoulder, stealing a bit of her warmth when I had carelessly let most of my own go. Smiling briefly I picked up my steps, pulling forward to walk next to Wes and Illiyria. I nodded to Wesley, then reached out to quickly draw up Illyria's hand within my own. She was tense, and ready for whatever I might not me, and I expected her to start at the touch. But without a glance she seemed to know it was me, and I held her hand that much tighter before pulling away.

Things had changed that much.


...and I was ready.
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Give a man enough rope, he'll hang himself. Teach a man to make rope, he'll hang other people. [28 Jun 2005|09:15am]

[ mood | grieving ]

Despite Rupert’s better judgment, he’d decided to pace the hotel floors, hoping for any sign of where Genesis was being held. Hoping it could have been that easy.

Spells and counter-spells were prepared. Weapons at the ready and fastened about his person, concealed until needed.

He’d been away from the hotel room, from Ethan and Amy, for perhaps twenty minutes.

Long enough.

Amy was first to discover him in the bathtub. She’d slipped on what she though was water from Ethan’s bath.

She’d simply shut down. Rupert was tempted to as well.

Not you too.

He cursed himself. And he cursed Ethan. For taking the coward’s way out. For not saying good-bye. For throwing away their one chance…

One chance.


Way. The only way.

That Jason Cain could open the Gate.

Hemorrhaging away in a river of Ethan’s blood.

You wonderful bastard, Rupert thought to himself. Ethan, you may have just saved the world.

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And in the end, it doesn't even matter [27 Jun 2005|11:21pm]

[ mood | predatory ]

I thought that we must have made for the most motley of crews as the group of us moved through the main lobby and casino level of the Luxor. Then, I noticed a large gaggle of midwestern tourists taking pictures with a garishly interpreted Cleopatra and Marc Antony. This was, after all, Las Vegas-- a city that had been built on the use of the flamboyant and spectacular to cover up the seedy and, at best, immoral. That in mind, I supposed it wasn't all that unthinkable that a small cluster of people, most of whom carried slightly questionable bags that barely concealed their weapons, walking through the casino with grim determination hardly worth the slightest suspicion.

Illyria-- who'd agreed to wear Fred's visage for the moment-- had naturally gravitated toward the front of the group. Her affinity for the power that Cain was manipulating, she had told us, shone to her like a beacon on the shore. It drew Illyria deeper into the casino, and Illyria drew Willow and myself, her closest comrades, behind her.

In exceptional (although bizarrely fitting) incongruity, Illyria mentioned offhand her interest in one of the more garishly lit slot machines. I glanced at Willow with an eyebrow raised, but couldn't help the smile that touched my face. Indeed it would be an interesting thing to witness, as had Illyria's entire journey.

My eyes strayed also to the other individual within our immediate ranks I trusted implicitly, Faith. I could feel the impatience radiating from her, the eagerness to finally 'throw down', as she would say. I had to admit that I shared the restlessness. My hand strayed as casually as it could under my jacket, as if to reassure myself of the cold, hard grips of both pistols were stil within quick-draw range.

Faith glanced up, our eyes caught, and mutual humour was instantly found in the memory of our last trip to the city. An easy laugh was shared, and I took heart in the fact that all was well and back to its rightful place as far as she and I were concerned.

With the magical might amongst our number, it was simplicity itself to pass through the outer, mundane security doors. Once through, Illyria's resumed her normal form, and with it came even greater surety of Cain's whereabouts. There was a pause at the top of the stairwell that Faith and I recognised as leading to the abandoned Initiative base. There was the sound of zippers and snaps and velcro... and then of the readying of weapons.

I was armed, as the saying went, for bear. In addition to the 'gadgets' under my jacket sleeves, I was carrying a pair of automatic pistols, my trusted sawed-off shotgun, and my newest and most ridiculously illegal acquisition: a Heckler & Koch MP5K, basically a compact assault rifle. We didn't know just what kind of enemy Cain would be throwing at us except for the renegade Slayers, and there was no telling how deeply his corruption of them had gone.

Besides, only Cain mattered. Stopping him, and closing the Gate-- ending this.

Halfway down the stairwell, Faith let me know she was going to break off to find Giles. Knowing that she would rightly prefer to move unencumbered by any companions, I convinced the rest of the group to press on for the base's entrance. One last nod, and Faith moved silently off down a side corridor.

It was disturbingly easy and fast going of reaching the entrance to the base. Illyria confirmed that we were in the right place, as well.

Hoping that we weren't too late to help Giles and finish the fight, I raised my shotgun and prepared to "knock" on the door.

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"All that lives must die, Passing through nature to eternity." [27 Jun 2005|05:26pm]

[ mood | anxious ]

The cacophonous sound filled my head as we entered, but I was assured by Wesley that it was merely the 'Casino' and nothing more. "No," I whispered to him, walking closely to Willow as I had promised her I would do, "that is not it."

The strange shape of the building bothered me. Why would mortals who had no reverence of gods any longer forge a pyramid mimicking one of the great temples of their own existence?

"I wish to play the game of chance," I announced to Willow and Wesley, who both looked at me. "After Cain is dead, naturally." I was impatient, however. He had done much to my own brothers and to Willow - my newfound friend - who I noticed would smile ever now and again to Faith, Wesley's ex-wife.

What an odd, incestuous group this was.

The noise in my head only grew louder in intensity until I had to clasp my hands over my ears to drown it out, stop it somehow... "Lower," I whispered, feeling the pull of the tide sweep my over as the energies drew me closer.

Drew me lower.

And lower we went, all three of us, as I walked first -- clenching my teeth in frustration at the screaming within me but knowing that that was exactly where we needed to be -- our goal, the infinite crisis of our souls coming to a conclusion with each footstep closer, deeper, lower...


The energies were strong, pulling, pushing, swirling within me and around me -- around us all -- as I looked at my friends who I both loved... yes, loved. The words from the play Wesley and I had spoke of previously came back to me...

"Beware of entrance to a quarrel; but being in,
Bear't that the opposed may beware of thee."

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[27 Jun 2005|09:40am]

Kennedy Foster was late. Jason Cain had an agenda, and it had to be executed down to the last second. Rupert Giles was somewhere in the hotel, he was sure of it. Attempting to spoil his latest step to ascension. And so he sent his weapon, his slayer, for a brief reconnaissance. But strictly told not to engage. She’d already stepped too far in her time ‘babysitting’ Genesis Torres. If she engaged him without his expressed order…

He stood stock still, hands clasped behind his back, as the key card unlocked the door. Curtains drawn back, the Las Vegas skyline shimmering in the night heat. The city seemed to vibrate on some almost indiscernible level, only something Cain could witness.

Kennedy wiped at the blood spilling down her cheek, fighting the tears from spilling over as she angrily made her way back to her own room. The events that had just conspired left her feeling so many emotions at once, she wasn't sure which one to cling to. Get it together Kennedy. You gotta calm down before you get back there. Otherwise, he will know something's up. Stopping, she took a deep breath, putting her hand against the wall to stable and center herself. "Okay. I can do this." She muttered to herself as she resumed her journey to her room. Stopping outside the door, she whispered a silent plea that she would be able to slip in unnoticed and get cleaned up before she had to check in with him. Opening the door, she glanced around and started to the bathroom.

The rush of air as the door opened rustled the curtains on either side, draping him in velvet. Yet, Jason Cain didn't move a centimeter.

"Last minute errands?"

Cry 'havoc!' and let loose the dogs of war, that this foul deed shall smell above the earth with carrion men, groaning for burialCollapse )

As they walked from the suite to the elevator, Cain made one final note on his PDA.

"You knew she was dangerous? I didn't even know that and I thought I knew her better than anyone. But I guess I never really knew her at all."

The appropriate emotional façade. A convenient lie. Cain wasn’t the only one capable, it seemed.
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The Story Of A Girl On The Morning Of A War [25 Jun 2005|01:22pm]

Kennedy quietly made her way through the halls of the hotel. She was trying to scope out what was going on. Cain had informed her to keep tabs on the arriving members of the other side. The battle was imminent and she was getting restless. She'd managed to take out some of her aggression and anger on Genesis, but Cain had stopped her, saying she was taking it too far. Taking it too far? Doesn't he realize how bad I'm hurting? What he's done to me? I am what he wanted me to be all along and now he wants me to take it down a few notches. Whatever. She rolled her eyes to herself as she entered the busy casino, managing to blend in with the large crowd. Her eyes were peeled for any familiar faces.

Isabella crept about the casino, watch the sinners, and the saints about to become sinners, feeling nothing but the raw ache of the emptiness and disease Kennedy had left clawing inside of her. Even Ana's limitless credit card couldn't fill the space in which there was so much nothingness, she was afraid she was going to drown in it. Instead, she watched the people all around her, and below her, from where she stood, like an angel on her high perch. She felt nothing more than abject apathy until suddenly her heart stopped beating. She felt everything crawl into slow motion around her, as the blood in her veins cooled perceptively as she walked around a large pillar where she could not be seen and then disappeared, to make her descent down to the main floor.

Desperation, Deception and DestructionCollapse )

Her eyes grew wide as she saw Isabella once again reach for the dagger, pressing it against her own chest. "Someday, you will ache like I ache." With all the speed of her Slayer power, Kennedy grabbed the dagger out of the girl's hand and pushed her down hard onto the floor. Her eyes fell upon the blonde with one last look of undetermined emotion before shaking her head and turning to walk out of the room.

Slamming the door behind her, Kennedy tucked the dagger away into her boot. Her hand reached up, wiping away some of the blood that had finally spilled out of the slice and was covering the left side of her cheek.. She looked at the door, whispering softly before turning and walking away. "Looks like that someday is now."
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You will believe in me... and I will never be ignored. [22 Jun 2005|10:04pm]

[ mood | predatory ]

"I would die for you,
I would die for you,
I've been dying just to feel you by my side...
To know that you're mine.
I will cry for you,
I will cry for you,
I will wash away your pain with all my tears,
And drown your fears."

True to her word, my "kidnapper" brought us right where she said she would.

Sin City.

Is this Destiny? Is this the Universe's idea of irony? I get it. I slept with Kennedy, she's evil, and now everything's upside down, inside out, backwards and forwards, and just generally messed up. And Ema Kate's worrying herself into an early grave, and rambling on about her own sins. Cain's probably got all of the Gates open right now and is about to send us straight to Hell as we speak. And part of me wants to think, "Where's God now, Mama?" Huh?

But no. All I can think of is... where's Kennedy now?

Where is that beautiful girl who charmed her way right into my heart and then ripped it apart from the inside out? Where's she at?

I mean, this is Sin City. Isn't this her evil mothership?

I keep trying to tell myself not to blame her, because I should have known she didn't love me back. That she just wanted someone from me. She was one of those guys my mother warned me about. Except... not really a guy. More toward the girl side, which was surprising, but still.

What burned, and what killed in all of this is that regardless of how she felt about me, I loved her. I gave everything up for her, and to her. And she ripped my heart out through my jugular vein.

So there would be no more sweet little Bella. No more Miss Nice Girl. I would learn the all the tricks I needed to know to deal with her, because let's face it, she's pretty much a trick herself, then I would get back on that plane to London, and I would go back, and show Kennedy a thing or too about playing with fire.

"I will pray for you,
I will pray for you,
I will sell my soul for something pure and true,
Someone like you.
See your face every place that I walk in,
Hear your voice every time that I'm talking,
You will believe in me, and I will never be ignored."

I ditched Ema in the airport, along with all of my stuff except for my purse, blowing her a kiss as I hopped into a cab and ordered them to speed away to the nearest upscale mall, before the frantic redhead caught up with us.

Relaxing against the leather, I fought hard against the remorse that was already trying to creep up in me. My conscience was in overdrive, and I could feel guilt, churning like bile, in the pit of my stomach, like I was going to vomit all of my sudden regrets.

Lucidity crashed through windshield of the cab along with the sunlight, and for a split second, what I was doing, the responsibility of it, registered.

Then pushing it away with annoyance, I dug through my purse for what I had realized on the plane was in there, and had been there, since I'd caught Ana Pendleton breaking curfew one night back at the Academy. She'd shoved a Platinum credit card in my hand and told me to use until it was maxed out, just not to report her to Emma. I refused to blackmail her, but I kept it for emergencies.

Like a severely fractured heart.

Running my fingertips over its smooth, plastic surface, a smile that had never been mine played over my lips.

It would never be Kennedy's either.

"I will burn for you,
Feel pain for you,
I will twist the knife and bleed my aching heart,
And tear it apart."

Several hours later, I had finally realized the trueness of statement that you have to suffer for your beauty. I'd been waxed, plucked, manicured, pedicured, had my hair foiled with some acrid smelling highlights that took forever to set, learned to walk in shoes that cut into my feet and cut off circulation to my toes, as well as bought clothes so tight, I felt light headed in them.

I pierced my navel, and then followed it all up with a deep tissue Swedish massage that was so good, it hurt.

I walked out of the mall aching all over, burning in certain places, swollen in others, and looking like a complete stranger. A complete stranger with a wardrobe better than Ana Pendleton's.

There was no way when I got back, that Kennedy would be able to deny me, to look past me, to not be in the same airspace that I breathed.

I had other plans, of course. Someone else would be coming home with me, making sure Kennedy knew just how off limits that I was.

And when she was willing to crawl for me, on her hands and knees, and when she wanted me half as much as I wanted her, instead of the other way around, only then, could she have me.

For the first time in my life, we were going to do things my way. It was all dirty, and wrong. But she had to love me.

I would do anything for her, and if asking her to love me in return was too much, than I was going to make her pay the price.

"I will lie for you,
Beg and steal for you,
I will crawl on hands and knees until you see,
You're just like me.
Violate all the love that I'm missing,
Throw away all the pain that I'm living,
You will believe in me,
And I can never be ignored.

"The Luxor," I told the next driver, as I settled in with my millions of bags and boxes, and more in the trunk. When we finally arrived, I waited for help, then checked myself in under an alias in one of their best suites. When they questioned me about using Ana's card, I told them I was her assistant, and asked if they wanted a pissed off heiress down their throats for harassing her personal assistant.

Once alone in my room, I threw off my coat, and took a good, long look at myself. When was I ever so... beautiful?

And how did Kennedy even deserve me, after all that she had done?

It was love, I decided, as I donned my new silk Gucci black tea-length, strapless corsetted dress, and laced up my Manolo Blahnik gold and crystal heels. Love made whoever it was you loved deserving of everything you were.

Frowning in the mirror as I applied my new M.A.C. make up, I decided that had to be wrong. Didn't you love them because you thought they were deserving of everything you were, not the other way around?

My head hurt.

A few finishing touches, and the next thing I knew, I was down in the casino, sipping a Sapphire & Tonic as she scoped the room for a rich playboy to be her plaything, in her game where she was cat, and Kennedy was the cute, little mouse.

I faltered for just a second, realizing just what I was doing, and how much this whole thing meant to me. How much Kennedy meant to me. Gripping my glass tight, I smiled again, and looked for a high place to watch the crowd, or possibly jump, if and when I realized this would never work.

Two Sapphire & Tonics later, as some man who won big screamed like a maniac at the top of his lungs, I perked up.

My luck had changed.

"I would die for you,
I would kill for you,
I will steal for you,
I'd do time for you,
I will wait for you,
I'd make room for you,
I'd sink ships for you,
To be close to you,
To be part of you,
Because I believe in you,
I believe in you,
I would die for you..."

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Nothing loved is ever lost... God don't give up on us. [22 Jun 2005|09:29pm]

[ mood | contemplative ]

Who will win the holy war?
Can you tell me what they’re fighting for?
And do you look down in disgust?
God don’t give up on us.
Mother Nature’s shamed and bruised,
All her precious gifts abused.
Her forest burns, her rivers rust.
God don’t give up on us.
Don’t give up on me,
Don’t give up on love.
Nothing loved is ever lost.
God don’t give up on us."

What had I come back to Las Vegas for? I swore, when I left here, when they agreed to keep me safe in London, and to help me... keep me from me, that I was never coming back here.

The streets are dirty... and, and the lights are too bright, and on every corner is some glaring example of just how unfair the world truly is... and why... why maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea to just end it.

...God, what was I saying?

It was just that I felt so small, and no place in the world could make you feel smaller than than this city. Too many lost souls. Truly lost souls. Their hearts, they... they just weren't come back from whatever vast darkness they'd been lost to. And all I wanted to do was save them all. Take their pain from them, feed their families, fix whatever it was that was broken inside and outside of them.

Outside my balcony doors, sirens wailed, people shouted drunkenly in the hall, and the world around me spun in a dizzying deja vu of a place I had run from, twice, to a safe haven halfway across the world.

Yet it always came back to this. It always came back here.

Was I damned?

Or was it all just part of the plan?

"We hold our babies in our arms,
And pray you’ll keep them safe from harm.
In a world that’s so unjust,
God don’t give up on us.
Don’t give up on me,
Don’t give up on love,
Nothing loved is ever lost,
God don’t give up on us."

While most of the team was setting up, doing recon, getting ready for the big fight, I had one last thing to do. Before I possibly died. I was already starting to feel energy pulsating within the Luxor. Energy that... that I knew could level this city, and maybe the country, too.

I had to say good-bye to my parents. Something I'd never once done, in the two times I'd ran off and left them to their devices, knowing, thinking, they didn't care, and they wouldn't notice.

My mom... she was so strung out, I don't think she even knew it was me, and my father was still angry. Neither knew nor understood, and probably never will, why I came back just to say good-bye.

Still, I stood there, in their seperate doorways, their permanent flaws still on display for me, just as mine lay transparent to them, and to the entire world. And we were so broken, and so beautiful that I cried each time, and prayed silently, that God would not give up on them.

For the first time in my life, I knew I wouldn't be.

"For every bullet fired,
For every soul that’s lost,
Forgive our dark desires,
And the pain we’ve caused.
Please don‘t close your eyes,
To the part of us
That’s beautiful... still beautiful."

Back at the Luxor, as the energy, and it's magnetism grew stronger, I stepped out onto my balcony, to feel the air, even if only just once more on my skin. To breathe it in, and to see the world as it was, as it was meant to be, as it would still be, if we could win the holy war.

We weren't perfect, but we were willing to fight, and as I descended the steps to where I was to meet the other witches, I could only hope that was enough, and that if we weren't willing to give up, then neither would God.

"How can we regain your trust?
God don’t give up...
God don’t give up on us."

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And when it all goes to Hell... [18 Jun 2005|11:19pm]

I'm tired of being a scared little girl who wants her sister to protect her.

That quite possibly may be the most selfish thought I could have at a time like this--only moments before the world may or not be coming to an end, but that's what I'm feeling. It's what I was feeling on the plane over here and it's what I was feeling when I abandoned Faith, promising not to do anything stupid until she showed up. I couldn't stay with her though. Not now. I just needed to be by myself with my thoughts for a while, maybe for the last time. Of course, my thoughts turned to Buffy and what she'd do in this situation.

I immediately pushed these thoughts away. I adore my sister, but I don't want my thoughts to be of her right now. Because if I go into this fight and I'm thinking of Buffy, I'm going to be distracted and I cannot afford to be distracted. This is it. This is my fight. It's not Buffy's. For the first time, it's not my sister's fight. I'm here because I want to be. I'm not here for her. I'm here because of her, yes, but I'm not here for her.

I don't know if I'm going to die today. Maybe I am. Maybe I've outran death for too long. Maybe I was supposed to die at the hands of that vampire version of Giles. Maybe I was supposed to die in the Hellmouth. Maybe now all those times I should've died are going to catch up with me.

Maybe not.

I'm ready for this fight. I'll do whatever I have to to save the world. This feeling of determination is kind of empowering. Maybe this is what she felt. NO! I'm doing it again!

The air grew thick for me as soon as the plane landed. Faith couldn't feel it, but I could. When I entered the hotel, it turned to a buzzing feeling, not unlike static electricity. When I opened the door to the basement, it hit me full force and I doubled over with a huge force that was weighing me down. I hadn't felt this type of mystical pressure since...that night on Glory's tower. The gate was here. I could feel it in my bones. With great difficulty, I stood up straight and made my way down the stairs. Whatever happened, it was going to happen soon.
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[12 Jun 2005|09:39am]

[ mood | melancholy ]

There comes a point in one's life when you see something, an event in slow motion. The breaking of a glass, a fatal accident, a team of highly skilled but unprepared fighters for good marching towards their doom...

As you can see, I'm not entirely optimistic about this.

And now you live in heaven
But I know they let you out
To take care of me

God I wish they did, I need Gabriel here right now. I'm supposed to be second in command girl, my nerves are shot. I've spent decades perfecting my poker face but in the end, it doesn't amount to much. Fear wins through.

I fear we won't win, I fear that many of my friends will die. I'm not afraid of death though, I've died so many times already. I have hope though, maybe if dying is a part of my destiny, there will be someone I love waiting for me on the other side of it.

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[10 Jun 2005|09:29pm]

The waiting is always the hardest. Watching out to see who and what is the first to make a battle statement, making sure you are ready for the fight ahead, hoping your outfit matches. Okay the last bit isn't important but my mind is all over the place right at this moment.

I have been watching the others set up preparing for this and I am so uneasy. Anything, everything could go wrong. And if it does we are all lost to this plot.

If he wins that means we die. Or I should say if he wins I hope we all die. Quickly, painlessly. Sorry, I'm not into prolonged death scenes. Don't have that many last words in me.

I have my weapons readied. It's the only thing I can really do at this time. Can't exactly fire on the little girls below us. Tipping them off wouldn't be a proactive move at this time. From my research on Slayers i am praying to whatever deities that are protecting us they can't "feel" Illyria. She's not a vampire yet she is certainly not human.

I hate this.

Feeling unsure before a battle is never a good sign. But how can I not? We're really a rag time team here. Skilled yes, but so apart on many fronts.

And then when this is over the question remains of what do I do. Do I have a future here? Will Giles go back on his word and send me to my dimesion because of my ways? Will Willow turn me into some little rodent because she doesn't agree with my ideas?

I have to say though, watching her prepare for the spells that they think will save us is amazing. Never really watched magic being done before. Not exactly in my area of expertise.

The air here is unsettling.

I wish Giles would get his ass here. Where is he? Can't have a battle without the leader in place now can we?
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[05 May 2005|07:22pm]

If Ana Pendleton was to be trusted -- and she certainly wanted to be, Jason surmised -- then Roger Wyndham-Pryce's layabout son and a motley crew of his friends were on a trans-atlantic flight to Las Vegas.

On Ana's own private jet, no less. She'd been contacted about a 'favour' some days ago. Checking her messages, Ana paused and looked to him, repeating the request for Jason's benefit. A silent nod gave the go-ahead and she made the arrangements. After all, understanding your enemies' plan of attack made the task of a counter-offensive easier, and would ensure victory in the end.

Well-greased palms ensured he was informed when Rupert Giles arrived with his prize in tow. Miss Foster would act as his personal messenger, details of their meeting and a personal effect from Miss Torres to solidify he didn't attempt anything rash.

Standing on the balcony of his hotel room, sipping a scotch, Jason consulted his watch. Dawn was breaking over Las Vegas, rays of sunlight mingling with the city's lightscape. A contingent of Slayers should be arriving from Cleveland in about forty minutes. They were trained to defend against the enemy after all. All under his command.

It would be an astounding slaughter.

And he would be one step closer to claiming dominance over all things.
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[05 May 2005|02:06pm]

[ mood | sick ]

Amy had locked herself into the bathroom the instant it had become clear that Ethan didn't plan on vacating the bed anytime soon.

Her insides ached, and she sat doubled-over on the toilet, scraggly strands of hair caught between her fingers as Amy's head lolled in her hand.

Later Amy crawled to the tub, wrinkling her nose at the offensive smell of the toilet. She flipped the taps on, barely able to straighten herself to lift the extravagant evening dress over her shoulders. As the tub filled, she scrambled through the drawers for some kind of first aid kit, but all she could find was little bottles of shampoo and individually wrapped soaps.

"Jesus" She muttered, leaning on the door for a second and considering wether she could handle whatever Ethan would have to say to her this time. No. She could put up with the wrist a little longer.

With a splash and a groan, Amy tumbled into the water, which was too hot against her overly sensitive skin. Jamming on the cold tap, the change in temperature was almost painful, but she soon managed to cool the water to a comfortable warmth.

Collapsing against the side of the tub, Amy propped her good arm over the side to hold herself up, allowing herself something of a rest.

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[04 May 2005|06:52pm]

Ethan stared at the bottles he had lined up along the edge of the bed. Once they'd gotten to his room, he immediatle claimed it. After all, not only had he slept on the sofa the entire time he and Ripper had shared a room before. Not to mention that it was usually cutomary to give a dying man a last request and his was to sleep in the bed and get so blindingly drunk he couldn't care. Not that he'd vocalised it, he'd just laid down and refused to get up until it was safe to raid the mini-bar unmolested.

So far he hadn't actually managed to get himself to open any of them yet. He hadn't told Ripper, but since before the plane had landed, he could hear it. The Gate. It was calling him like he was a lost child.

And with or without Ripper, he might not have a choice about answering it.
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[03 May 2005|09:35pm]

Amy had been living in the lobby for a few days. A zap of magic had ensured the staff wouldn't bother her unless she needed something. Though she still had the key to Ana's room, she was filled with fear at the thought of going back there. What if they were waiting for her? To tear strips off her self confidence until nothing was left. She had dulled her pain with large amounts of alcohol, often mixed with whatever perscription drugs she had in her bag. The suffocating sleep the cocktails produced was the only rest she had. Carefully crossing back to her seat from the bathroom, her towering heels discarded long ago, Amy's pace was almost hobbling thanks to her emotional and physical exhaustion.

"I don't bloody see why I have to be along for the whole thing." Ethan just managed to keep the whine out of his voice. Screw it.He thought to himself and he pulled away from Giles slightly, whining loudly for all he was worth. "And I don't wnat to have sex with you. It's bad enough we did it four times before we got here." He grinned, looking pleased with himself.

Moving the piecesCollapse )
"Right," he muttered to no one in particular, as they all gatherered around the lobby desk. "Let's begin."
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