daniel_stacy: (huh look up)
[personal profile] daniel_stacy
As he headed in the direction of his apartment, Daniel felt alright.

He’d done a deed that would net him social capital. Rhiannon, Jazz, and even Melody could be enemies under the right circumstances, but they weren’t, at least for tonight. And that was okay. He jumped over the outstretched legs of a pair of drunks and hummed an Aerosmith song. Daniel wondered for the millionth time why he was on better terms with the white hats than his own kind, and in this well-worn train of thought he stumbled over a realization about himself that made him stop where he stood, teetering over the edge of a street curb.

Being liked was more important to him than anything else.

His brow furrowed.

Could that be it? The answer to why he hadn’t become a violence-crazed monster had nothing to do with his demon at all, but was instead a desire for popularity? And when his sire hadn’t provided it, he had cashed in his chips and sided with the good guys?

Daniel retraced his steps and turned into a narrow street used primarily for loading and unloading into restaurants and shops. He needed a minute alone with his thoughts. As he walked faster, he squeezed the back of his neck and mulled it over. If this new thing was true, that meant he’d rip out throats if he was surrounded by a nest of vampires, which wasn’t a bad thought except that meant he was a fucking sheep.

And here he’d come to think of himself as a trailblazer.

“No way.”

He was too deep in his self-effacing thoughts to notice the demon until he was on top of it. It was hairy and muscular. Its teeth gnashed as it chewed on the still-warm corpse of a stock boy. As it turned to assess the interruption, its eyes glowed red. A hell-hound. Daniel had heard of them, but never seen one in the flesh, probably because this particular breed had come through the portal sometime before it was guarded. The hound growled and dropped its meal.
cian_oneill: (Cian)
[personal profile] cian_oneill
The flickering of lights from a passing ambulance illuminated the alley briefly, the vehicle hurrying on its way to a callout somewhere in the suburbs. Cian lowered himself to the ground from the stairs that ran down the wall opposite the portal, adjusting his jacket and scrubbing his fingers through his hair. He scratched his cheek, the slight rasp of stubble a little more common these last few days.

His sound of his footsteps bounced off the walls in a soft echo as he approached the phone booth, the number now known to all who were helping out with the 'watch' being maintained on the portal. The canteen of water he'd left inside earlier was still there and he was soon wiping the back of his hand across his mouth after downing half the contents. The weather was warming up, and his patrol earlier had meant he hadn't had time to eat, or have anything to drink before heading up from the Cove.

The protective shield the old witch had put up seemed to be holding, and Cian couldn't help but wonder how long it could be maintained, and whether it would last as long as the portal. It had stopped anything from the portal escaping out of the alley, but didn't prevent anyone from this world from passing through it.

He heard something behind him and turned, hand already moving to the weapons stashed behind the phone box, eyes flickering with gold flecks momentarily.
brian_campo: (Default)
[personal profile] brian_campo
Truth be told, he wanted to know what it looked like.

In the days since blood fell from the sky – in an event that was scandalously under-reported for the sake of tourism dollars – the tiny town of Searchlight had done its best to clean up and look respectable. The sidewalks and streets had been hosed down, the buildings power washed, the cars scrubbed. It was a monumental task but people pitched in because the blood was drying flies. It also stank to high heaven.

But the outskirts, the dirt lots, and even the cemetery remained rust-red. It was like driving through an alien terrain. Brian made the trip around sunset when there was enough light to illuminate the area but not so much that he sweltered in his car. Air conditioning wasn’t powerful enough to combat that much direct sunlight. The thick, iron-sweet scent came through his air vents. He resisted the urge to cover his nose; it wouldn’t be any better when he got out of the car.

Brian parked in a neglected lot near a motel no longer in use.

He got out and shoved his keys into his pants pocket. Blood had collected and congealed in potholes around his feet, and the scrub grass was stained too. Brian squatted and pinked some of the sand, pink as coral, between his fingers. A warm wind blew his hair into his eyes so he looked up. As the sun slipped behind the hills, it lit up the ridge like liquid fire and then it was gone.

Dark would be quick and complete. There was no such thing as dark in Las Vegas, no real night to speak of. He remembered the desert with its inky sky and stars from his teenage years in his dad’s RV, which he parked wherever was cheap. The desert made Brian feel okay. A lot less frantic.

He left his door ajar and sat on the front seat, feet sticking out while he lit up a smoke.
melodymagic: (Focus)
[personal profile] melodymagic
The car trip to the alley Cian had told them about was a little longer than usual, a roadblock having been set up and the closed-off street full of vehicles with flashing lights and police. Melody strained to see what the commotion was and it looked like there were screens raised in the middle of the pavement outside a bar or club or something. As she settled back into her seat she saw Jazz sniffing at the open window of the car, the witch's face crinkled in concentration.

Her eyes narrowed and her foot pressed a little harder on the accelerator once they were clear of the traffic around the scene. "That must be the market he was talking about," Mel said, pointing at the E-Zmart's lights, "and there's the alley." She was almost out of the vehicle by the time Jazz parked, the older witch puzzled by the young woman's keenness to get to the alley.

Mel had the backpack on her shoulder as she stepped off the kerb and looked down into the dark alley, eyes taking a moment to adjust after the lights of the market.

"Daniel? Are you here?" she called out, one hand on the corner of the wall, head tilted to one side as she took a step past the phone box.
daniel_stacy: (hoody)
[personal profile] daniel_stacy
Daniel stood at the foot of the alley and frowned.

His vampire senses were keenly attuned to the difference in the air; that was the word he ascribed to the electric charge and chemical scent of a narrow passage that should smell like piss and garbage. After getting a note at Ragnarok, he felt obliged to show up and at least see what all the fuss was. Daniel understood that some kind of magical door to hell had opened and demons were sporadically coming through. People were needed to stand guard. And do what, Daniel didn’t really know; intervene? Take notes? Roll out a welcome mat?

There was a girl leaning against the wall, arms crossed, legs long and straight.

He pulled on his earlobe and cleared his throat. “I’m Daniel,” he said. “I got a message.” He watched her push away from the concrete block wall and approach him. An unknown chill went down his back and then he saw the stake in her hand and figured out why. He raised his palms. “Whoa… I didn’t come here for that.”

“Relax,” she said. She stowed the weapon in a band around her leg. “I’m Rhiannon. Normally you and I wouldn’t be so friendly, but right now we’ve got bigger concerns.” She straightened up. “For all we know, the creatures that came through that door rip off vampire faces, too, and something tells me you like yours.”

Daniel scowled.

Rhiannon tipped her head. “Am I wrong?”

“No,” he said, on the defense because it sounded like an insult, except that nobody in his right mind would want his face torn off Texas Chainsaw Massacre style. “No argument here.”

“Good.” Rhiannon fiddled with a blocky gadget with a rubber antenna. “Besides, I know your friend Holly. She asked me specifically not to stake you.” She turned a knob and the speaker crackled.

“Oh. Oh!” He brightened and stood up straighter. “Well, um… what do you need? I’m not all that combative.”

“You’re good enough. Here.” She handed him a heavy walky-talky and a pack of extra batteries. “Radio if you see anything weird and one of us will answer. Then pass it to the next person when you’re through. Someone will be here before sunrise. Did you bring a weapon?”

Daniel brandished a tire iron he pulled from his car trunk and a butcher knife from his kitchen.

Rhiannon’s mouth puckered with some kind of humor the vampire didn’t get. “Okay.” She shook her head. “Don’t worry. Probably nothing will happen. I staked a vampire who came sniffing, but that’s it. The portal’s been quiet.”

“Comforting.” Daniel craned his neck and looked at the gap in the wall, the painted line around the border.

“Yeah. Well.” Rhiannon patted her pockets to make sure she had keys. “I think that’s it. So… thanks for showing up.” It felt too weird to thank a vampire, so she cut around him and headed toward the parking lot. “Later, Daniel.”

“Later.” He watched her go, then he settled into the spot Rhiannon had vacated and wished he’d thought to bring a book.
tiny_dancer81: (Car Ride)
[personal profile] tiny_dancer81
The Dive never really got crowded until the weekends, but they had s steady stream of people coming in on weeknights as well. As the club's promoter, Theresa dealt with the reviewer from the local entertainment rag in addition to trying to book new acts. All in all, things were looking promising. With summer nearly here, the college crowd would have more time and money to spend in places like this.

The vampire was nursing a beer on the patio. She had thought of suggesting they start serving something stronger, but she hadn't gotten around to it yet. It sounded like the latest set was wrapping up. She checked her upper lip for beer foam, hauled her slight weight off of the bench where she'd been sitting.

Summer in Las Vegas might man the days were long, but the nights usually made up for it.
cian_oneill: (Default)
[personal profile] cian_oneill
After getting the number out of the phone box, and the market, Cian went to Ragnarok first, leaving messages there for the woman he remembered as Sabra, and Daniel, not at all sure either of them came there, but figuring if they went anywhere it would likely be there. He had no way of knowing how to contact them any other way.

Rhiannon had also mentioned a witch could help, so he made his way to the store he'd come to know was reliable, and where he'd been a few times for things, including Echo's pendant, and ingredients for the things Annie had taught him to make for himself. There was a young woman, Melody, serving and he asked her to pass on a message to Jazz, to contact him if she had some time, and was willing to help deal with a nasty situation that had come up suddenly.

"What sort of situation?" Melody asked, eyeing the man for a moment as she scribbled down his message and a contact number.

Cian looked at her, and wasn't about to expand until the young woman cocked her head to one side and told him, "I'm Jazz's... apprentice, you could say."

Cian eyed her for a moment, then following his instincts he told her briefly what he and Rhiannon had found, and where. "Rhiannon's standing guard at the moment, and trying to get in touch wi' some others, but at the moment we've no idea what i' might take t' seal it again, or if there'll be others."

Mel's eyes had widened a little as the man described the portal, and she nodded as she picked up the note she'd written. "I'll call Jazz and let her know," she told him. "She might be able to at least go and look, and help your friend, in case she needs it."

Cian was slightly relieved, not having liked the idea of leaving Rhiannon alone, but needing to get the word out to some reinforcements.

After he left the store he headed for Seventh Circle. He'd remembered a couple of others who might be able to at least stand guard, and the fight manager would know of some others who could be trusted.

After he left the club he headed back to the alley, the news of the events in Searchlight having had him put in a call to Echo, leaving a message on her machine: "Echo, it's Cian. I'm up in town and heard about tonight down there. Just wanted to check you are alright. I'll call again later."

He wanted to check with Rhiannon before heading back to Searchlight, let her know what he'd heard, and more importantly, see that she was alright. An ambulance, lights flashing and sirens wailing went through an intersection up ahead, and he had to wonder for a moment whether it was another victim of whatever had come through the portal, or just a usual run-of-the-mill medical emergency.
dori_bell: (portrait)
[personal profile] dori_bell
Dorothy was awakened by a thudding sound on the aluminum roof of her trailer. It was a pattering like rain, which would have been unusual enough in Searchlight, but more viscous, as though bowls of thick soup had been tossed from the sky only to ooze down the windows and back up in the drainage pipes.

The streetlights cast a burnt-orange glow on her bedroom walls. Dori sat up and pinched the inner corners of her eyes. Long, tangled strands of hair clung to her temples and cheeks. It was as she sat there blinking that Dori realized the lights were not orange… they simply shown through a fluid the color of iodine.

She walked barefoot to the window, unlatched and pulled it open. A warm breeze came through the trembling screen. Thump-thump-thump-thud… The smell wasn’t fresh like a thunderstorm. It was heavy and organic, a slaughter-house scent that increased as a meaty clot of tissue splattered her windowsill. She touched the wire mesh and her fingers came away red.

It was blood.

Fearless and in awe, Dori left the trailer in her nightgown and ventured onto the narrow road, which was sharp and hurt her feet. She made for a disturbing sight, that young blonde girl covered in gore, her cheeks smeared with finger marks from where she’d wiped at her eyes. She walked until she came to a magnificent beast laboring and rising from the dirt near his mistress’s black skirts. It was a creature of blood and sinew and bone, unlike anything she had seen or imagined. Hidden in the shadows, Dori arched her neck to look at it and smiled. Blood ran into the spaces between her teeth and tasted of iron and salt.

“What a beautiful boy,” she whispered.

Beautiful and terrible.

Talk Radio

May. 3rd, 2014 11:15 pm
birthright_npc: (Default)
[personal profile] birthright_npc
"...and here's some weirdness, just in. Some folks a little down South from Vegas are reporting a whole lot of - and get this... Flesh and blood falling from the sky. Someone just rang in to say it's like a regular butcher's shop just got turned upside-down, but law enforcement says there are no - we repeat - no known aircraft fatalities, explosive or otherwise... Kind of a mind-bender, huh? We'll be back, right after these words from our sponsors."
lady_elfleda: (Default)
[personal profile] lady_elfleda
By February, the arrival of Halley's Comet had cast a not inconsiderable shadow of interest over the New Age community. Some called it a herald of impending doom, others felt it a sign of good and still more considered it of no metaphysical significance.

Then, just recently, came the military strikes against Libya and, of far more destructive impact, the nuclear crisis in Chernobyl. Something which was still lighting up current affairs shows with alarming frequency, the consequences of such catastrophic radiation over Europe and elsewhere, were still very much unknown.

All things considered, one could be forgiven for thinking this year was one of destruction. Yet, few could have known just how true that potential could yet be.

Especially of a dimensional nature...

A drunken, care-free attitude had caused it. A portal between this realm and another. Such things were taken notice of.

"Madeleine Ricks... I had not thought you to be the one."

Elfleda hovered invisibly around it as an unseen cloud of spiritual filth, tasting of how much thinner the barrier now was between worlds. Testing... Feeling. Deciding it was right. That this would now be... Enough.

A nearby cat hissed at the alley, but dared not venture near. Scampered and hid in fear when it felt her pervasive gaze upon it.


Then, the Corruptress dissolving away, a shard of ethereal light, somewhere between electric blue and darker shade of purple, leapt suddenly into the sky. A rumbling clap of thunder rolling out across it in response.

To the casual on-looker, nothing seemed to come of it. Across Nevada, though, gathering in chaotic, billowing effect, the weather was taking on a different turn as it headed towards the little town of Searchlight. The portal, in itself, had been the final straw. Searchlight was the nexus and dimensional walls had finally weakened to the point where... Greater things could happen.

Yet, no rain came. Instead, water pushed up through dust and soil, alike. Or, more precisely, a viscous, muddy sludge did. A by-product of what was required... Like dislodging the roots of an overgrown tree, the proverbial topsoil had to be removed - and something was being forced up. Rising, slowly, but surely, like iron filings to a magnet.

Then - and only then - did the rain come. When the first blackened bone reached the surface. But not of water. Of something sticky and red.

First came the blood. Then the meat. Then the jelly. Not for the first time in history had a downfall of flesh and blood occurred, but this was one with purpose. The skeletal frame of a being though dead and buried, slowly being given the necessities for physical revival.

And as Elfleda fondly touched its brow of skull, so, too, was it given an accursed blessing of infernal resurrection.



Apr. 29th, 2014 08:29 pm
brian_campo: (elvis)
[personal profile] brian_campo
I feel bad about last week, so I made you a mix tape. Forgive me?
Your friend,

Left at the Shop )
rhiannon_lee: (brick wall)
[personal profile] rhiannon_lee
Rhiannon watched as a customer exited the E-Z-Mart with a bag of sour cream potato chips and an orange juice. He juggled the juice into the crook of his arm and opened the bag. She heard him chewing from across the lot, unaware that anything peculiar was happening in the alley to his left. In fact, so long as nobody needed a pay phone, they wouldn’t find it.

Of course, that didn’t mean that nothing would find them.

The slayer rubbed her bare forearm. “Cold air. Do you feel that?” She looked at Cian. They stood on the pavement at the foot of the alley. He had been insistent that they go immediately to assess things, and that urgency worried Rhiannon because he was never that rushed about anything.
wolfs_daughter: (Conversing)
[personal profile] wolfs_daughter
'Solomon's Scrolls'.

Echo had been standing on the sidewalk for five minutes, looking at the shop's facade. It was six o'clock in the evening. The sun was a blazing deep-orange ball in the sky that cast long shadows. The hybrid grasped the door handle, pulled.

It was cooler inside, and she paused as she looked around at the shelves. She didn't know if she'd find what she was looking for here, but if she didn't at least look, she'd never find out.

There was two hundred dollars folded tightly in her back jeans pocket. Help, real help, probably wouldn't be cheap. If she had to live off of mac and cheese for a while, it would be worth it.

Echo stepped towards the counter, jammed her hands self-consciously into her pockets. Wondered how she was going to start explaining.
daniel_stacy: (hoody)
[personal profile] daniel_stacy
Daniel’s knuckles tapped on the apartment door. With his hands in his pockets, he waited. He began to casually study the paint on the door frame, all the while hoping he didn’t look misshapen through the peep hole. Wait… what if he hadn’t knocked loud enough? Should he knock again? But if the first time had been loud enough, wouldn’t that seem obnoxiously impatient? Like the physical equivalent of shouting, ‘I know you’re in there, now open the door!’

He opted to shuffle uncomfortably and scratch his stubble.

He hadn’t tried Holly’s apartment in ages. It was the most obvious place to look for her, but he didn’t want to be pushy. He just wanted to make sure she was alright. If she was, great! They could hang out or he could hop the stairs and walk back into the night, assured that she had a pulse. The afterlife was good.

He coughed for no real reason.
rhiannon_lee: (magazine bw)
[personal profile] rhiannon_lee
It had been years since Rhiannon stepped foot in an actual gym, the kind that regular fitness buffs frequented. She got her exercise at night on patrol and in sparring sessions with Cian. A major reason why she avoided gyms was that nobody her size should be capable of lifting what she could, and so it became an exercise in false straining. But she liked the places, especially old ones where the punching bags were cracked and the mats smelled like old sweat. They reminded her of the first days of training, way before things got fucked up. Those were good memories.

The gym had a help wanted sign. Rhiannon was doing okay on money, not great but able to pay the rent, based on temp work as a bartender. It couldn’t hurt to go inside though and ask, even if her primary purpose was the questionable ambiance. She pulled open the door and stepped inside, perhaps looking a bit different than the typical gym bunny, pale and tattooed and in too much make-up.

[Takes place before 'What Happens When?']
dirtywhiteboy: (Damn...)
[personal profile] dirtywhiteboy
Years ago, Ruben had wondered how long it would take for the sun to burn him into ashes. It had been a random notion, one he hadn't seriously entertained, but he thought of that time every now and then. For a man who couldn't see himself in a mirror, he was strangely reflective.

It was three a.m. The bars had announced last call an hour ago. Even in Las Vegas, some laws still held. If you wanted to drink after two in the morning, you had to go home or somewhere else.

He was stepping over the legs of the dead man in the alley, heading towards the sidewalk. He'd learned to eat quietly. Someone would probably find the body eventually, most likely an unlucky garbageman. Nevada was warming up, careening towards summer.

There was a pale moon trying to shine down through the light pollution, and Ruben turned his face up towards it. The moon was cold, remote, but it was also kind. It wouldn't burn him.
cian_oneill: (Cian)
[personal profile] cian_oneill
It had taken over an hour to answer questions, three times, and be allowed to leave, and Cian wasn't sure what time it was when he finally made it back to Rhiannon's place. He'd gone into the market almost on auto-pilot, paying for the purchases with money he didn't even count and receiving change he hadn't even checked.

All he could think about all the way through the dark was the eyeballs of the dying man. Peter Green, and his fiance Fiona Hindmarsh, now carted away to the morgue for examination by the ME, who had been more than a little stunned at what he'd seen. Enough to sober him up pretty quickly.

Ghosts. That had been Peter's last word, and Cian had seen the disbelief in the detective's eyes when Cian had told them the same thing each time they'd asked in the different ways they'd put the question to him.

He'd left out the part about the smell. Having to explain his acute senses wasn't something he was about to embark on, especially in circumstances like this. "Aye, ghosts," he said for the sixth time when another detective had asked him again.

Rhiannon wasn't home from the bar job when he arrived, something he could tell when he turned into the street, her car not in the driveway. He pushed the door into the darkened garage open and without turning on the lights proceeded to put the items he'd picked up from the market away. The light from the refrigerator was relatively bright, and his eyes narrowed a little at the sudden brilliance. He took out a beer and uncapped it, the top going in the bin as he made his way across to the couch, and sat down. A swig later and finally the scent of the alley and the corpses started to recede.
wolfs_daughter: (Default)
[personal profile] wolfs_daughter
"Echo, can you take Gabe home? His dad called and said he's working on something, so he can't come pick him up. And his mom works weird hours. I know it's a little out of your way since you live in Searchlight, but I'd really appreciate it."

Marta's voice cut through the silence, and Echo looked up from putting away the art supplies. The older woman was a retired schoolteacher who'd opened Cornerstone after moving to Nevada from Denver. She was short and chubby, her once-black hair shot through with wide swathes of white. The hybrid liked her because she sensed her goodness, and the children the center took care of during the day gravitated towards her with ease.

"Sure," she said easily, finishing with one task before adding, "Just let me clean up these books and then I'll get my keys. Tell Gabe he can either wait in your office or outside."

"Thanks, hon. Drop me a note in the morning, and I'll give you some money for gas."

Other People's Lives )



May 2014

    12 3
4 5 6 78 9 10
1112 1314151617


RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Sep. 26th, 2017 09:35 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios