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Charles Gunn

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Get Your Slay On

Nowhere Land - 911 Is A Joke [29 Jan 2006|04:25pm]
[ mood | confused ]

Okay, so I ain't even close to bein' a boy scout. Not like I even had a compass or map to check, and damn if I could remember what side of the trees the moss was supposed to grow-- North? South? Would it even be the same direction in Pylea?

Anyway, I tought I might actually be gettin' close to the caves when I saw the shape of someone walkin' towards me. I waved, and got a wave back, so I figured it hadda be one of ours. Didn't figure for one of the local baddies to be that friendly, demon or human.

A minute later, I could tell it was Xander, who I guessed must've gone for a walk himself. A minute after that, though, I got that bad feelin' everybody in Star Wars always talks about. Xander looked like he'd taken his walk right through Compton wearin' an "I Hate Rap" t-shirt.

I ran up and threw the guy's arm over my shoulder before he collapsed.

"The hell happened to you?"

((Open to Xander))

Get Your Slay On

Nowhere Land - Makin' Myself Useful [09 Dec 2005|03:45pm]
[ mood | busy ]

Fred took off to talk with Buffy, which was cool with me. The way the girl was feelin', I figured at least for now, it was better for Fred to be doin' stuff instead of thinkin' about it. Bein' our resident Pylea expert, the group was gonna be leanin' on her pretty heavy in the next little while, and I knew she was strong enough to do it. I just, y'know, was hopin' she'd be okay with it.

We really, really had to get our asses outta here, and now, or else we was all gonna go crazy.

Lookin' around, I walked around the caves a little, at least as far as I could still see without a flashlight or anything. It wasn't he Westin Bonaventure, but it looked plenty big enough to hold everybody, and it'd keep us dry. We'd either have to rig up some kinda door or more likely set up a watch to make sure nothin' nasty decided to wake us all up.

Makin' my way back outside, I started gatherin' whatever wood I could find that looked about right to get a fire goin'. I remembered that was pretty much the number one priority back when Wes and me were hangin' with the local branch of the Rebel Alliance. I wasn't a Boy Scout-- hell, I wasn't even a Fresh Air Fund kid-- but I think I was doing okay.

Walking a little past the caves, I stopped short. Somethin' smelled awful. And, bein' a guy, I hadda go check it out.

There wasn't much left of the bodies. Whatever this fight had been about, it was over a long time ago. Not much in the small clearin' but bones and just enough to keep up the smell. Some of the skeletons looked pretty human to me. Others, not so much. Leaning down, I picked up a short sword that somebody or something had dropped. Not too much rust, still usable.

Figurin' it was proably a fight between the two sides of our little coup, I tried to remember the direction the place was, and headed back to the caves.

Get Your Slay On

Nowvere Land - Fancy Meetin' You Here [26 Oct 2005|09:25pm]
[ mood | thoughtful ]

Left Willow and Kennedy as they were headin' into the caves, followin' the glow of whatever little mojo nugget the redhead had called up into her hand. There was a time, even after havin' spent the better part of my years fightin' vampires and the occasional demon, that a demonstration of magic as casual and simple as that woulda blown my mind. Now, most of my best friends had worked magic at some time, and I'd even taken part in a spell once or twice.

So, my job was to scare up more of us, however many of us made it here to Pylea. My head was still fuzzy on details, and it had already been a while since I'd woken up. Really seemed like I wouldn't be remembering anything concrete about the big fight we'd all been in anytime soon.

Kinda creeped me out, but a tiny part of me was kinda glad we had, though. Here in Pylea, we were away from everything back at home. Away from the fighting for our lives, away from The First and Wolfram & Hart. Most importantly for me was away from Lilah Morgan and my deal. For about the ten thousandth time since I'd signed my name on that dotted line, I cursed myself out all silent for having done what I'd done. Did I have good intentions about it? Yeah. Did I still figure I could turn the situation to my advantage? Sure. But honestly, I woulda given just about anything now to just make it disappear.

'Cause then, I'd just about lost everything I had and coulda cared about. Now, things were different. Now, there was family and friends again, and there was even some hope. Now...

And speakin' of now, who should I have spotted comin' up over the next rise? Fred. I grinned.

"Yo, Fred!"

((Open to Fred))

Get Your Slay On

Los Angelus - The Big Time [05 Oct 2005|08:51pm]
[ mood | discontent ]

I remember that I couldn't so much hear what the big cat was tryin' to tell me as I could feel it.

Two of a KindCollapse )

So there I was, Charles Gunn, late of the Hyperion Hotel and Angel Investigations, previously of various dark and rough parts of L.A. and the crew I'd started before I started shavin', now employee of Wolfram & Hart, Attorneys at Law, Los Angeles branch. I had an office. Didn't know a damn thing about what the hell I was supposed to be doin'.

I had an office, but no title, not like Fred or Lorne or Wes. Me, I didn't exactly fit the profile for the type who'd get a swank office and a pad like the one W&H had set up for me. I was more like the guy who'd come to this building to deliver the pizzas for the big lunch meeting. But, I was part of the AI crew, and so I was part of the package.

But what part was I?

Big desk with nothin' on it. Fancy phone and intercom with nobody to call. Computer, but I figured it and the phone probably had every kinda bug in the zoo on 'em. So, that's why I got out of my cushy leather chair and left my big, empty office and started walkin' down the hall. At least there, I found a familiar face.

"Yo, Fred--"

((Open to Fred))

Get Your Slay On

Hellmouth of L.A. - You Got the Touch [20 Sep 2005|12:11am]
[ mood | crazy ]

When it was clear that something was going to keep distracting me, I shut the doors on my office and asked that I not be disturbed.

When I got wind that the twelve legal aides in my department had gotten so fond of each other that they had started taking bathroom breaks every fifteen minutes as a group, I had to get up and look at the little plastic robots I'd bought at the dime store for a kick.

When I saw my assistant through the glass wall of my office stand up on her chair and start clucking like a chicken, I started winding up my limited edition die-cast Robby the Robot and got soothed by the lights and little spinnin' antennae.

But when the copier technician started runnin' up and down the hall wearin' nothing but smeared-on toner, I knew it would take my very best toy robots to calm me down.

Crouching down beside the shelves that held my display 'bots, I unlocked the cabinets on the bottom, selecting just the perfect robots. The original, never-removed-from-box, mint condition circa 1986 versions were currently sitting in a modified gun chest in my apartment, but the banged-up ones with the peeling decals I kept with me.

The first one I set down looked for all the world like an undersized Walther P38 pistol. I grasped the barrel and the grip and started tugging and twisting and clicking until a short, squat robot form stood menacingly on the carpet.

The second I placed a couple of yards away on its tires and attached the trailer. With loud 'vroom, vroom' sounds, the semi truck drove circles around the gun robot until I stopped it. I pulled off the trailer, then flipped the cab over, turning it into a heroic-looking blue and red robot.

They both sported oversized weaponry, and as I made sure the scene was set just right, I heard the voices starting to make the movie real. I knew I was probably supplyin' the voices, but who knew here, right?

The red, former semi-truck robot glared at his enemy.

"One shall stand," Optimus Prime intoned with a deep, gallant voice, "one shall fall."

The gray gun robot sneered back.

"Why throw away your life so recklessly?" Megatron demanded.

I brought another Decepticon close to Optimus Prime and the big Autobot leader just bashed on it with one swing of his metal fist.

"That's a question you should ask yourself, Megatron."

With a crash of plastic steel and circuitry, the Transformer leaders clashed in a great battle of good versus evil. I grinned.

This time, Prime wasn't doing any dying.

Get Your Slay On

Nowhere Land - Hell of a Hangover (intro) [25 Aug 2005|09:38pm]
"Damn," I groaned, holding a hand up to a head that felt about to crack right open. "Anybody get the license on the truck that just ran me over?"

When I didn't get any answers, smart-ass or otherwise, I finally opened up my eyes and looked around. That was right about the time I really regretted doing that. Instead of marble and metal and vamp dust and all the other things that made the Hyperion home sweet home, I was gettin' an eyefull-- and a noseful, accordin' to my sinuses-- of the great outdoors. Grass, trees, dirt, bushes... all that stuff.

"What in the..."

Pushin' myself up onto my feet, I discovered just how all beat to hell I really was. My axe was layin' down a yard away from where I'd been napping. There was somethin' way too familiar about Sherwood Forest, but the ringin' between my ears was keepin' me from really puttin' my finger on it.

Tryin' to clear my head, I paced over the same patch of grass a few times.

We'd gotten into the big fight, finally. Just like before, I threw in with my family, swinging my axe with everything I had, instead of doin' whatever it would be that Lilah and her... nah, I guess that would be our... bosses would want me to be doin'. Whatever, I decided. If they wanted me to be as useful a double agent as they were wantin', then everyone in the hotel hadda trust me.

The ubervamps were everythin' that the Sunnydale folks had said, and then some, strong as any three or four vamps I'd ever had to put down. But we were dustin' em, at least that's what I thought I could remember.

And now, we was here.

Right about then, the last little piece fell right into place.

Pylea.

"Aww, hell..."

((Open to any other Hyperion-ites))

Get Your Slay On

Apocalypse Nowish - Doin' My Part [09 Jul 2005|12:20am]
[ mood | pessimistic ]

"Gunn, gather the weapons, make sure we have what we might need to face Turok-Han."

And just like that, I was part of the team again. No questions asked, every part havin' its place and its job to do, just like we needed to be if we were gonna make it through this next big fight. The bad guys we were about to face sounded like some real bad mofo's, but after having had my ass handed to me by the likes of the Beast, I figured there wasn't an opponent who could gimme a worse whuppin' than that.

Here's hopin', right?

Well, if I was gonna do inventory on the party favors, then the place to start was definitely the training room. Clickin' on the lights, I walked across the floor, wishin' for a second that me and Fred didn't always end up on opposite ends of the 'get ready for the fight' preparations. But I knew that she had lots more to contribute to things by rockin' the research books, and that I'd be a total loss at it.

I swung open the first weapons cabinet and started countin'. There were five, six, seven swords in there, most of 'em with broad blades and two-hand hilts-- a little heavy, but more likely to cut cleaner and easier through a tough neck. I spotted three fight-ready axes-- my own personal chop machine was sittin' in my room... two crossbows-- not sure how much good those were gonna do, considerin' the description we'd gotten... and a few blunt weapons that were off the list.

Pickin' up one of the swords, I checked the edge. Hmmm. Needed some sharpenin', so the rest probably did, too. Didn't know how many stones we had lyin' around, so maybe the next time somebody made a supply run--

I stopped the thought. Wasn't nobody makin' a supply run anytime soon. They didn't mention it at the meeting, but it was a safe bet Wes'd be lockin' the place down until the fight went down. I really needed to find Fred just as soon as I was done with this.

As I put the sword away, I heard the door behind me open. Lookin' over my shoulder, I saw Kennedy walkin' in. Wasn't sure what she was after in an empty trainin' room, but I wasn't so dumb as to not have heard a little of the hotel gossip about what she was goin' through right now. Maybe she was just tryin' to find a quiet place.

"Yo," I said, headin' to another cabinet.

((Open to Kennedy))

Get Your Slay On

Apocalypse Nowish - Thoughts on a CL55 [18 Jun 2005|11:39pm]
[ mood | crappy ]

I parked the Benz two blocks away from the hotel, settin' the alarm. Truth was, though, that it might actually be the best thing for me if the thing got boosted or chopped up. Lookin' at the keys in my hand-- this weird hunk of plastic that was only kinda key-shaped and plugged into the steering column-- I remembered how I used to be so jealous of the whips some of the boys used to roll through the neighborhood with.

They usually weren't from my turf, though. Wasn't easy to keep a ride lookin' as hot as those did, what with all the vamps that had a tendency to love takin' joy rides. But those were still the shit-- chrome kits from headlight to taillight, pearlescent and metallic paint jobs, whitewall tires on spinnin' rims. Some of 'em got all the kids on the block runnin' after 'em by showin' off their hydraulics, cars bouncin' down the street.

Now that I was a little older, I could appreciate the classier, more subtle lines of a ride like the Benz.

And I could hate 'em, too, especially when I wondered what demon client's hourly rate had paid for this one.

Stuffin' the keys into my pocket, I headed back down to the Hyperion, my mouth hangin' open as I pushed the door aside. Where the hell had all these kids come from, I wondered, nearly out loud. Finally, I saw a couple of familiar faces, who filled me in on the situation with Anne's shelter and the big move of everybody to our humble little hotel.

Still didn't see any of the bigwigs around, and not Fred, either, so I knew I still needed to check in with someone. I made my way through the little groups of teenagers and ran up the stairs, finally findin' the room I wanted and knocked on the door.

"Yo, Cordy-- you there?"

((Open to Cordelia))

Get Your Slay On

Apocalypse Nowish - Aftermath [15 May 2005|10:09pm]
[ mood | shocked ]

Anya had done what Lilah'd wanted, and now Lindsey was lookin' at about an eternity's worth of horrible torture and suffering. Once that was done, I was waitin' for Lilah to put that necklace right back in her pocket and start chatterin' about how much fun she was gonna have with her very own vengeance demon at her beck an' call. But nope, she actually gave the damn thing back to Anya.

My heart hit the floor when that necklace went back around Anya's neck, 'cuz I could see the way it weighed her down the second it touched her again. Tryin' to get away from the vengeance thing was drivin' Anya stone cold crazy, and now she was right back where she'd started from.

I got surprised again. Anya didn't yell or scream or get mad or cry or nothin'. She just seemed to accept what had happened, like there wasn't no more she could do. And I did wonder if that wasn't true. So, Anya disappeared, and left me an' Lilah alone.

Didn't talk. Hell, I had no idea what to say. This wasn't exactly the kind of situation that a body gets themselves prepared to face, y'know?

An ache in my fingers reminded me that I'd been holdin' my beer with a death grip. Pryin' the hand open, I set the thing on the nearest surface I could find without movin' my feet. At some point, my knees had gone soft, and I needed to keep leanin' against where I was.

Words came outta me from somewhere, but none that I'd expected to say.

"Why?" I asked. "Why'd you do that? That damn thing's gonna crack her completely now."

((Open to Lilah))

Get Your Slay On

Apocalypse Nowish - "Immobile" [11 May 2005|07:45pm]
[ mood | depressed ]

((Part of THIS THREAD))

Lilah gave me a look that if she had any kinda mojo of her own, woulda left me flat on my ass, if I was lucky. I didn't care.

"No we're not just chit chatting. I wanted him to know what is going to happen to him, and why. We'll finish this soon enough, but only after I am done with him."

We were gettin' into one fuckin' scary place. Lilah was way too into the vengeance thing, into the gettin' back at somebody who you thought done you wrong. She had an axe to grind with Lindsey, fine, but now that she had Anya's powers in her corner, looked like she decided to bury it in his face, instead. She circled him, like a big cat playin' with its dinner, but even meaner. Crueler. Lilah laid out her grudge, and I wasn't gonna be the one to say boo about it, but damn... I'd seen some bad 'sibling' rivalry, but this was unreal.

"I wish that Lindsey be sent to languish alive and indefinitely, in the hell dimension I was rotting in when I died. I wish that he remain conscious through all of his torment and that he never ever forgets who sent him there and why. Have fun Lindsey, you'll be glad of the gag when you get there."

And finally, she pulled the trigger. And just like ya hadda figure, it was the kind of iron-clad, no loophole slam that only a lawyer coulda hit him with. For a second or two, I felt sorry for the guy. But then, I started bein' afraid for my own ass. How bad had I ever pissed her off? Enough to deserve that kinda treatment?

Shit.

"Done."

And he was gone. Fuckin' gone, forever. And I didn't even wanna wonder for a second what was waitin' for him on the other end of that portal. If I could've... if he'd asked... I'd have done Lindsey like I did the Professor, and put him the hell outta his misery before he went. 'Course, then I'd be followin' him for sure.

"No jealousy? No ex-Lover that you just wish they could see things your way? Somewhere in there... I know it's there Lilah. You reek of it. Someone hurt you, and you could make it all go away Lilah. This is your chance... are you going to take it?"

Anya'd gone... not cold, 'cuz I could tell how pissed she was... but just so damn... inhuman. All she wanted was the vengeance, the anger, all the stuff she was gettin' from Lilah, and she wanted more. And the second she started talkin', my whole body went ice fuckin' cold.

Wes.

Naw, that I couldn't take. I started to open my mouth, figure out some way to make myself talk and get Lilah to not do it. That could be my good deed. That could be the one thing I could do, and I'd be okay.

"Yes, I'm jealous of that airhead slayer bitch. Yes, I want Wesley to see things from my perspective. All that bullshit about black and white, crossing lines in the sand. It was all just an excuse to hide the truth. That he didn't want me anymore! Yes, he hurt me, in ways I'd never thought possible and will never allow to happen again. Do I want to give him back some of that pain tenfold? Do I want him to suffer the worst imaginable heartache and be alone, and never find happiness with anyone? Of course I do. I want it so badly that it burns me. From the inside out. And I can't make it go away."

Move, Gunn. Move, you motherfuckin' piece of shit... if you can't save your friend, you ain't even worth the air you're breathin'. Speak up. Move.

I almost did.

"No. I'm not going to take my chance. Even though I want to. Because some part of me still loves him."

I went cold again, frozen to the spot.

Somethin' inside me was tellin' me that what I'd just heard was even worse for Wes than if Lilah wanted him strung up and stone dead. And this, I couldn't do nothin' about.

"I chose a side. For better or worse, this is the side I'm on. Mine. Damned if you do and damned if you don't, right? But hon, in the end, there's only you. You can't change who you are. I know this, I tried. So here, take it back... Just when you thought there were no choices left to be made... there are."

And just like that, Lilah gave the necklace back to Anya. My heart was thunderin' in my ears, but I still didn't move. I didn't wanna help Lilah, but I didn't wanna risk my chances by tryin' to stand in her way. And I didn't deserve to even offer to help Anya, not anymore.

So I just didn't move. Didn't talk.

I just watched Anya, wonderin' what in the hell would happen next.

Get Your Slay On

Apocalypse Nowish - One Bad Deed [07 Apr 2005|04:41pm]
((New thread from HERE))

"Relax, tiger. You did your one bad deed for the day... We'll have ourselves a little vengeance, and then I'll take you on a small tour of the place. I thought you might appreciate that. Quid Pro Quo and all. You'll get back safe and sound, I promise."

Lilah's eyes were on the road when I slid my eyes back at her, the look I was throwin' her way sayin' pretty clear that I trusted her 'bout as far as I could throw-- well, throw the car we were in. Didn't see the angle she would have in gettin' me hurt right this moment, though, so I guess I was startin' to relax a little. Then, I remembered there was some kinda hoodoo in the air makin' me keep decidin' to be all sharin' every time I got asked a question.

When you were tryin' to play both sides of the fence, that wasn't a good thing, not by a long shot.

Streets flew by the window, traffic headin' into downtown havin' not quite gotten back to its pre-blackout badness. We'd be at Wolfram & Hart in just a minute or two.

I saw Lilah's expression change just before she talked. It was a lot like the looks I saw on kids back in grade school just before we started pokin' into those frogs in biology class, like she was about to take a peek inside my head.

"Do you find me attractive Gunn? Have you ever thought about pumping me for more than just information?"

Shruggin', I turned away from that smile. "Sure I do. 'Bout the only reason I didn't fault ol' English for shackin' up wit' you. Didn't give the actual doin' of the deed much thought, though, since I ain't sure I'd be much of one to go through with it."

Huh. Well, let her chew on the idea that I did think she was hot, but that wasn't enough to make me wanna get horizontal.

We pretty much screamed into the Wolfram & Hart parking lot, and I followed Lilah's expensively-tailored ass up to the lobby. I was just about outta patience by that point, and I wasn't scared to say so.

"So you gonna do this thing already, or what?"

((Open to Lilah, then Anya(nka)!))

Get Your Slay On

Apocalypse Nowish - Morning Rush [25 Mar 2005|08:57pm]
[ mood | distressed ]

It took longer than I'd expected to make my way to the diner to meet up with Lilah. L.A. wasn't usually a 'get up with the sun' kinda town, but I guess once people realized that we were getting a real sunrise again, they were a little more motivated. And so even though it wasn't all that hard to get outta the hotel, I still doubled back twice and took a completely different route there than I was planning on taking back.

Finally, I pushed my way through the door and around the really early breakfast rush to find Lilah sittin' in a corner booth, cell phone in hand. Probably just about to call me and ream me out for bein' late. Well, now she'd get to do it in person, which I was sure got her better jollies than doin' it long distance.

I slid into the booth, and before I could say anythin', the waitress pulled up. Orderin' a black coffee, the look on my face told her that I wasn't up for much more conversation than that.

Turnin' back to Lilah, I patted my jacket's front pocket. There was the soft jingle of a metal chain.

Glarin' at her, I leaned forward.

"What do you want it for?"

((Open to Lilah))

Get Your Slay On

Apocalypse Nowish - It's a Date - 24 February 2005 [15 Mar 2005|05:03pm]
Yankin' off the seriously stank t-shirt, I looked around the bathroom in my room. On the left, the laundry hamper; on the right, the wastebasket. Bundlin' up the shirt, I made a pretty decent hook shot right into the trash. Wasn't about to even try washin' the thing.

Me, on the other hand, I hadda get clean, so I hopped in the shower for a quick once-over, then got dressed. I actually stood in front of my damn closet, tryin' to decide on what to put on.

Well, I had a date, didn't I?

Didn't think that would ever happen again.

Anyway, I pretty much settled on the same ol', same ol' set of jeans and t-shirt and tossed another shirt on top of it, then headed down the stairs.

Once I got to the doors to the garden, though, I saw Xander and Willow catchin' up. Wasn't about to interrupt anybody elses' happy-making, so since I'd gotten downstairs before Fred, I sat myself down on one of the couches to wait for her. Droppin' myself on the cushions, I started shiftin' around to find a comfy spot.

Damn, was I nervous? Huh.

((Open to Fred))

Get Your Slay On

Apocalypse Nowish - Yeah, I know I won't tan, but still... - 9 February 2005 [15 Mar 2005|05:03pm]
After a shower and leavin' my hands under the cold running water for a few minutes, I was feelin' just about like a new man. The trainin' session with Dawn had actually gone really good, and I think she learned a few things. I was even feelin' jazzed up enough to give Lilah a call-- don't know if it was lucky or not that she didn't pick up. Probably lucky. I was in too good a mood.

Once I got dressed, I headed out, hopin' to grab somethin' to eat. I stepped out into the hallway and froze. Lookin' down, I saw somethin' I didn't think I'd ever see again.

My shadow, stretchin' down the hall to my left, gold light on the carpet around it.

Naaaaw...

I turned to the right, and there it was-- shinin' through the window at the end of the hall.

With what somebody would haveta call a whoop, I ran down the hallway, my boots makin' big clumpin' noise as I did. Pressin' my face against the glass, it was bright and warm against the glass.

The sun. The damn sun.

Still grinnin' like a fool, I hauled ass down the stairs, runnin' right past the group of folks who were still hangin' around there and through the front doors. I wasn't leavin' the hotel, I just wanted to feel it on my face. I tossed off the heavy shirt I was wearin' and stood up on the edge of the fountain, just lovin' me some Cali sunshine.

((Open to anyone who wants to sun worship with Gunn.))

Get Your Slay On

Apocalypse Nowish - Do you want to hear a secret? - 13 January 2005 [15 Mar 2005|05:02pm]
One thing about actually having lived here in the Hyperion is that I can move around and do stuff that I've done a hundred times before and be so confident about it that no one would ever think to ask me what the hell I was doing. I could use my newfound powers for good-- like, say, raiding the liquor stash in the kitchen-- or for evil, like I was doin' now. I hadn't been able to find Wesley anywhere so I could talk him into lettin' me sit in on his 'interview' with Lindsey.

Wouldn't be hard, I decided. Even though Wes was as hard as they get these days, I had a feelin' he'd be plenty comfortable with lettin' me hand out the beatin' while he played the cold interrogator. Big brain'd crack the lawyer real quick, and damn if I didn't think Lindsey would have it comin' after all he'd done to us and ours.

And after that, it'd be back on the phone to play court reporter for Lilah. But, fuck, this was Lindsey McDonald we was talkin' about. Exactly who in the world was gonna be wantin' his stuff?

But, English wasn't nowhere to be seen, so I figured I could at least pay the good ol' boy a preliminary visit to see just how tough he was gonna be. Of course, the last thing I was expectin' to find down there was a whole lotta nothin'.

"Fuck."

I rushed from one end of the basement to the other. None of the little vent windows were open, none of the ropes that were supposed to be holdin' Lindsey in place were cut or broken. It had been an inside job.

"Oh, fuck."

Still cursing to myself, I left the basement and still locked it up, as if we still had our uninvited guest. Wes still wasn't back, and from the way the meeting had gone, he was the first one that was gonna get this news. At least, the first here in the hotel. Taking the steps two at a time, I rushed back to my room and flipped open my cell and punched in Lilah's number.

"Yeah, Lilah, it's me. Somebody sprung Lindsey, so there's not gonna be any insider information for you."

((Open to Anya.))

Get Your Slay On

Apocalypse Nowish - Put to the Test - 23 December 2004 [15 Mar 2005|05:02pm]
((Continued from HERE.))

"I didn't know that you were so anxious to get started. Well, good for you, Charles. I do have something that I'd like you to do for me."

I frowned into the phone. It was about damn time that this started gettin' into gear. Hadn't been very long since we got all our new tenants that I'd signed the contract Lilah had handed me-- and don't doubt for a second that I knew I was all kinds of a fool for not readin' it-- and I still hadn't had anything to do that would get me any closer to the big players on their team.

"Well, lemme hear the assignment, and I'll tell you what it'll take on my end."

Shaking my head, I started to pace the length of my room.

"If you're lookin' for me to off somebody, that ain't gonna happen, but if you've got some, let's say, mischief you want me to get into, then we can talk."

Really, I had no idea just what in the hell Lilah was gonna ask me to do. All I knew was that I wasn't gonna like it, whatever it was, but I wasn't gonna start comin' up short on the deal.

((Open to Lilah.))

Get Your Slay On

Apocalypse Nowish - Wandering - 1 December 2004 [15 Mar 2005|05:01pm]
With all the people-- and were those two new girls I saw in the lobby as I walked across the second floor balcony? Damn, people, I know we're down a couple of people, but maybe now wasn't the time for the Hyperion to start takin' in guests again. Fuck, that would be all we needed, more civilians in the way. Or maybe they were new Potentials, and who knew how the hell that would work out?

I leaned against the rail, watchin' all those people buzzin' around a girl-- Safi, the other one that'd gone missing. Maybe I didn't deserve it, but I was relieved to know someone somehow had gotten her back here, alive and in one piece. Didn't know who or how, and I didn't really care. Somebody had gotten a little out of Angelus and The First, and that was what mattered to me.

The group downstairs started headin' toward the stairs, so I made my exit. I wandered the halls a little, still tryin' to wrap my head around Angel comin' back and sayin' goodbye. I really wished I could say that him droppin' by made me feel better about what I was doin', hell, about anything at all, but it didn't. Yeah, it had been good to see him, and yeah, it had felt good when he told me how he trusted me.

But I was still alone, and still stuck somewhere between where I wanted to be, which was here, in this damn crowded hotel with all these people I'd fought and bled with, and where the mission was takin' me-- over to the other side of town, where vampires and ghosts and crazy no-eye motherfuckers run the show. My Lugz scuffed a little at the wall as I leaned against the dark wallpaper, still not knowin' what the hell to do with myself.

"Do what you gotta do, but try not to get killed, okay?"

"Do what I gotta do," I said quietly, to the empty space that I'd gotten really familiar with bein' surrounded by these days.

What I hadda do was get back on point with my plan. Call Lilah, and try to kick this double agent shit into overdrive.

What I wanna do is find Fred, drop to my knees like a Boyz II Men video and beg her to take me back. And it didn't even matter whether I thought she would or not. I wanted to do it so bad, I found myself in front of her door before I was finished thinkin' the thought.

But I heard him from inside. I heard Angel. It was Fred's turn.

Fred was gettin' what she needed to keep fightin'.

I already had.

I turned the hell around, shut the door of my room, dropped into my chair and flipped open my cell. Still pretty damn impressive that we still had service, but that's L.A. for you. I punched in Lilah's number and hit the SEND key.

It was time to see where I stood.

((Open to Lilah.))

Get Your Slay On

Apocalypse Nowish - Tail between my legs - 18 October 2004 [15 Mar 2005|05:01pm]
One of the advantages to livin' in a place like the Hyperion for a couple years is that you get to learn all its little ins and outs better'n just about anybody, especially the ones that wouldn't get noticed even by big brain types like Wes. I moved as quiet as I could from the back hallways up to the third floor and into my room without the bottles under my arm from clinkin' too loud.

Inside my room finally, I locked the door, set the bag down next to the big chair and dropped myself down. Leanin' over, I emptied the bags. On the way back from Lilah's place, I'd picked up a couple of six-packs-- one empty, one full. That was gonna be the story-- I'd told everyone that I needed to breathe some fresh air after we hadn't been able to save Angel. I figured it wasn't that much of a stretch that I went and grabbed myself a few to drown my sorrows.

I cracked open one of the beers, and took a long sip out of it. Yeah, that story I was pretty sure would hold up.

I'd caught sight of Buffy, Wes, Willow and Kennedy headin' out of the front doors, lookin' ready to do some work, and it wasn't hard to guess where they were headed. Once Buffy got back, though, it was gonna be time to answer to that particular lie. But, I was pretty sure I had a couple more good lies left in me to cover it up. Sure, there was the chance I might catch a Slayer-fied ass whuppin', but it ain't like I never took a beatin' before.

This one I'd actually deserve, not that she'd get to know.

So, I'd like to cover that, and I'd lie to cover not tellin' Buffy 'bout Dawn, and I'd lie about followin' Xander while he played Duke Nukem with Lilah's apartment building. So goddamn many lies these days. I must be smarter than all of 'em gimme credit for if I can keep track of all of them lies.

One good lie I'd sneak in, though. Wouldn't tell a soul 'bout Xander and his big boom. Since I'd eventually seen 'em all get out, even Lilah, I figured there wasn't any reason to snitch on something I'd'a done myself if I could.

I glanced up as I finished the beer and noticed that I'd left the door a little open. Whatever. I reached down and grabbed another bottle.

((Open to anyone passing Gunn's room.))

Get Your Slay On

Apocalypse Nowish - No Rescue - 26 September 2004 [15 Mar 2005|05:01pm]
((Makin' with the cavalry))

((Sounding the retreat))

Get Your Slay On

Apocalypse Nowish - One (1) Missed Call - 16 September 2004 [15 Mar 2005|05:00pm]
I rolled outta bed. I'd been so grateful to get back into my own damn body-- black, bald and beautiful, that I celebrated by crashin' for a good long time. I was pretty sure I heard the last couple notes of my ringtone as I was openin' my eyes. Of course, it stopped just as I reached out for it and flipped it open.

One (1) Missed Call

As if I really didn't know who it was. No body was callin' me these days except Lilah. And the fact that she'd yet to really give me somethin' specifically nasty to do around here was makin' me more nervous that I thought I could admit. It meant, as far as I knew, that when the order finally came down to me, it'd be a big one.

One (1) Missed Call

It just kept flashin' at me, but I couldn't bring myself to click the thing closed. All I could do was shut my eyes tight and try to keep remindin' myself about why I'd done what I'd done. If I could get them to trust me, then I could hurt them.

Because that's always the people that hurt you the most.

I could try to doublecross Lilah, right here and now. Never answer another phone call, never show for a meet, not ever see her and that side of the fight except for them starin' down the business end of my axe.

But I could only hurt them back so much that way. I could get hurt or killed any second in the straight fight. This way, I hoped, I might be able to take a big chunk of them with me.

One (1) Missed Call

Not even a voice mail. She knew that I knew. I punched the re-call key and got Lilah's voice mail.

"It's me. Nothin' to report."

Jabbing the End key, I closed the phone and threw it on the bed. That answer wasn't gonna fly for much longer. What would happen when it didn't, I had no idea.

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