Entries tagged with ᘚ angel [v1]

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third stake.

[Buffy is facing this attractive looking bloke in the middle of an abandoned street. She's getting a little winded when one Peter Petrelli appears. Which is making Buffy wig because she's only ever seen this guy from that weird book club dream where they read about zombies.

He's coming closer, but she doesn't exactly have the energy to fight him and Big Ugly, so she really hopes he comes in peace. She feels his hand on her arm, and oh, she's - getting helped back to her feet. She quickly brushes some hair behind her ear and smiles a little through the ouch.]

Uh, thanks. [The demon comes back around, angrier than before, and she tries to shove him out of the way but her timing's off. Peter grabs the axe she dropped and rushes the creature--] No, I'm the only one who can-- [She cuts herself off as Peter lands a kick. What was this? Was Peter a vampire? She settles in to watch, and it's easy to see Peter's stronger than a vamp. He's exactly as strong as Buffy. After a few minutes he wears the thing down and manages to cut off its head, spraying everything around with a thick gooey substance. It has the consistency of Gushers and Buffy knows one shower won't take that out of her hair, but she turns her interest to Peter as the demon's enormous body crashes to the street.]

Okay, Buddy, spill. How'd you do that?

[Feel free to interrupt this little ~scene~ in any way you choose. Buffy and Peter are just going to derp around and try to figure this out 8D]

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The Road To Hell Is Paved With Good Intentions [Locked To Angel]

[Cordelia is banging on the door to Angel's room. With her luck, he's probably sleeping. Again. That's all he does these days, which was annoying to say the least. Especially because he apparently kept having dreams about Darla. Ew much? Still, she made him blood pudding like Minato suggested to her, and he was going to eat it damnit.]

Angel, get your ass up already before your blood gets cold. [She doesn't mention that he's getting it in the form of blood pudding today. Somehow, she doubts he would come out if she did.]

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002

[It's another time for a day in Anya's life. Only this time, she's currently in bed with her fiance, Xander, and trying to undress him. That is, until she hears the sounds of someone else in the room. Dream!Xander backs away from her, looking flustered and embarrassed. Anya? She just looks annoyed someone's coming in during orgasm time.]

Do you mind? We're a little busy right now.

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second stake.

[Buffy is sitting on an unweildy tower, looking out over the edge. This is where she died, and where Dawn almost had. It's a cloudy day and she wishes the rain would just fall and get it over with instead of taunting her with its heavy cumulus. She knows, logically, she could probably make the Sun come out, or even make the rain come, if it was what she wanted-- but she's sick of being in control. She wants the world back with its unpredictable and even sometimes cruel ways. She wants the real Earth beneath her and the real sky over her and all the messed up stuff in between. She wants to feel love and hate and trust and hurt. She wants her life back.

But she doesn't, all the same. Spike, her mom's death, Dawn.... So many things held a giant question mark, and things were good here. Great, even. She could be with Angel without fear, and she had made friends she could visit whenever she wanted. The only question she had left at the end of her long think-y process was simply, Was it more selfish to stay, or to go?]

Just go away. Get your own tower of feel-bad. [she murmurs when you approach, curling around herself.]

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Company Policy ;; 001

[It's twenty years ago, and you find yourself on a deserted bridge. There's a car behind you, which might be how you got there, and a gun in your hand, pointed at one Noah Bennet. He doesn't beg for mercy, or plead his case, but only opens his arms out, giving you a perfect shot to his heart.]

Do it. Shoot. You and I both know it's the only way.

[You pull the trigger, but the bullet seems to be moving in slow-motion. The slug enters his chest, blood spreading out over his starched shirt as he falls to his knees.]

It's alright, [he tells you calmly, as if he's placating to a child, and maybe in some cases he is. He opens his shirt to reveal the wound, bullet pushing back out of his chest and clinking uselessly to the gravel below.]

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002 |

[You walk on to some … yard place. There's a faint ringing noise in the background. Angel and and his favorite blonde bitch (sorry Buffy) are there, sprawled out on lawn chairs, wearing bathing suits and sunglasses. That probably wouldn't be so weird if it weren't the middle of the night. At least the moon is nice and bright.

And now Darla is rubbing ice all over Angel's chest … there sure is no better place to be than this dream.]

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001;

[It's a dream Cordelia has a lot. She's getting out on the red carpet of some movie premiere, her arm intertwined with some hunky guy. In this dream she's a famous movie star, loved and adored by all. There's no visions here, or demon goo, or anything gross like that. Things are simple. She has money and she's happy and it's everything she's always wanted.

Even if you don't know her, in this dream you do. You recognize her as the movie star Cordelia Chase. She's been in an array of films, some dramatic but most were feel good romantic comedies. It was her niche, so to speak.

As she steps out on the red carpet, the light bulbs of the cameras go off, and she flashes a smile to the adoring public.]

You're all too kind, really.

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☆ 01

[Willow's been practicing, and practicing with intent. This is the second or third night of sleep that she's been at this. She's at a point in her life where she feels responsible, like she's the one who has to step up and take care of things now that Buffy's gone, so when Anya tells her that A, she's seen Buffy and it wasn't the Buffybot, and B, this is probably a dream, she immediately tries to deduce what's going on.

Conclusion: shared consciousness, as she'd thought. It explained a lot. Willow stands from where she'd been sitting cross-legged in absolutely nothing, and decides to try something else out. The current surroundings of pure, unrelieved white, massive blankness, are challenging to keep up. She'd had to stay in meditation for a good while to get it down, but she thinks she's getting the hang of this now. It's not so different from magic, just all mentally based and without the props.

Anyway, her new experiment. This takes a different sort of concentration, and in the fringes of her vision as she tries, the Summers house starts to bleed into the blank environment like paint on a canvas. An open, cheerful, lived in two story, it's a bit cluttered but clearly loved. Willow frowns in frustration, and it vanishes completely.

She tries one more time, and thinks she has it. When she speaks, it's directly to you, wherever you are - and if you answer, you'll find yourself suddenly, mysteriously beside her, in the way that abrupt shifts in dreams feel natural and unsurprising.]

Buffy, if you're out there, I need to speak to you. [The hard cast to her face, set and determined, relinquishes into an edge of vulnerability.] ... Please.

To everyone else - we're dreaming, and we're dreaming together. If you concentrate, you can learn how to change things, but it takes some effort to get the trick. Like riding a bicycle or learning to swim. I'd be interested to know what you've experienced so far; this is more than a simple dream.

[ooc: IF YOU DON'T WANT YOUR CHARACTER TO KNOW THEY'RE DREAMING YET, her mental 'call' failed for your character and they never got it. As in, feel free to ignore this. Otherwise, proceed. This post is a placeholder - I'm going to bed and will get to tags tomorrow. |D]

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(no subject)

[Duffy is moving around the modest, country kitchen efficiently and with ease. It's a familiar space for him, and when he turns towards you you'll notice he's missing his left arm from just above his elbow. He doesn't let it hold him back though, as he smiles softly and turns on the stove. He's humming Pour Some Sugar on Me as he works. He seems to be cooking bacon and eggs for an army.]

Any requests?

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(no subject)

[Welcome to Caritas. It's a classy, dimly lit karaoke bar. Now it appears to be empty, except for some freaky green demon guy singing love ballads while Angel and a tiny blonde girl in a red dress slow dance and whisper sweet nothings to each other. You can kind of pick up something about him killing her but her being "over it," and a few mutters about secret dates.

And then the making out starts … ]

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first stake.

[Buffy is wandering through the Sunnydale graveyard, still wearing the clothes she died in. Her pants are torn at the knees and thigh, shirt ripped up the side. She has a minor head wound, but none of that seems to matter as she sluices through the fog, stake at the ready.]

Oh, come on. Don't make me say it. [She rolls her eyes.] Olly olly oxen free.

[Just like that, there's a slew of vampires. Human but for their ridged faces, fingers still torn from clawing out of their own graves. She stakes one, turning and dipping like butter to the next. She never pauses, an unwavering force until they're all gone.

And then it's only you and Buffy, and she sees you across the astroturf, swinging her stake like the Lone Ranger before placing it at her back pocket.]

Don't worry, [she assures you.] You're safe now.

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1st card.

[There's a young man, Japanese even if his black hair has a blue sheen, sitting on a park bench. He's cradling what looks like a gun in his hands, staring down at it and running a finger along the barrel. There's an odd affection to the motion, but also a definite respect.

Minato has a longstanding relationship with his Evoker, and it's a complicated one.

Above him a dark, looming shadow flickers in and out of existence. It's indistinct, and large, easily bigger than a tall person; it floats and seems to be getting slowly more present as he considers his Evoker.] So many new people... I can tell that they're arriving. [His voice is quiet, soft, very little emotion to it. Minato has been alone for a long time now. He's completely oblivious to the fact that it looks like he's contemplating suicide.]

I've gotten used to being alone.

[He glances up. The dark shadow smooths out of existence completely.] You're new, too, right?