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Post by Elizabeth Rhoslyn Vatican on Mar 7, 2011 7:19:39 GMT
So this was Sunnydale, California. A small town in a big state complete with a high school, snooty rich kids and oh yeah don't forget the hellmouth. Of course were it not for the hellmouth there would be no way that Eliza would have ever been drawn here. For one the States had never really struck up interest in her. She much rather enjoyed Europe. Great scenery, more to do, more to see, more to kill. Her home town of Bucharest, Romania had been a big werewolf area being as werewolves had pretty much originated from Romania. They generally left the people alone but every once in a while there would a murder, that was where she stepped in.
When you live your entire life like she had it is pretty easy to step up and do the dirty work. Trained to be a soldier from the time she was four and then released back into society when things when downhill. As if she could ever be a normal girl again, thanks to them. But she wasn't too broken up about it, she couldn't change the past and really she didn't even know what she was missing. A family, love, emotions, feelings, friends, a childhood, those were all things that she had never had and didn't really even understand. Her job, her life was to fight evil and save innocent live. That was it.
So now here she was in Sunnydale ready to take on a new part of her life, away from everything she ever knew. It was hard and strange but she knew it was something that had to be done. People here needed her whether they knew it or not. The sixteen year old girl looked so normal sitting on the swing, but normal was far from what she was. [/center][/blockquote] |
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Post by Spike on Mar 12, 2011 13:29:11 GMT
Spike wanted to kill something. Actually, he wanted to get drunk, but seeing as how he was still being thrown out of every demon bar in town depending on the day of the week, due to being a Slayer Lovin' Piece of Scum (and they didn't even know the part where he did...had...love the Golden Girl), now he wanted to kill something. Perferrably not a human either, because he really didn't want to have to deal with a migrain the size of Jupiter again this decade.
The headaches were getting worse, although that might just be coming from the aches from the rest of his body, and his heart, where there was now a Buffy-sized hole which was still bleeding around the edges. But the pain in his head, instead of just knocking him down, now made him pass out and whimper like a stupid fledge who'd stepping into the sun. Not that he'd ever admit it, because the human kiddies wouldn't care, except maybe Dawn, and he didn't want his Nibblet to worry. So that was tucked away, and he hid it by simply being drunk when it was worse.
Now he was stalking through the night, leather duster flapping elegantly around his heels - looking for all the world like a true big bad vampire. Like the image he'd worn for so long, that would never truely die down now, even though the stupid romantic loving William had carved his way out of the demon in Buffy's prescense. But she was gone now. So he was free to be the Big bad again. The big bad who couldn't hunt, couldn't kill, couldn't main or torture, had to drink bagged blood and was probably going to have to start working for money if the Watcher didn't remember to get more blood soon. And he really didn't want to do that.
But still, image wise, with the black and the smirk and the slicked back hair...oh, this Vampire looked bad. He was proud of the image.
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Post by Elizabeth Rhoslyn Vatican on Mar 14, 2011 6:30:12 GMT
It wasn't long before the quiet night around her was disturbed by an almost inaudible noise in the night. When she turned her eyes to scan the night around her she quickly spotted a questionable looking fellow. Bleach blonde hair, long black trench coat and smoking a cigarette. Pretty much fit her description of a low life vampire to a T. But it wasn't in her training to attack first unless provoked. Also it wasn't good to go into a fight without knowing all of the perameters, such as whether or not he was truly a vampire or not.
Worst mistake a slayer could make is assuming that someone is a vampire and then persuing the slay, which could lead to murder of a human being. It had happened before and Eliza wasn't about to let it happen to her. There was no way she was going to carry that kind of burden lightly. So you come here often she questioned in a thick accent. Small talk, not that classy she knew but it would be one of the easiest ways for her to tell whether the man was vampire or human. [/center][/blockquote] |
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Post by Spike on Mar 16, 2011 14:19:08 GMT
If Spike wasn't so cooly collected and just plain used to this sort of thing, the scent which reached him would have made him jump. Perhaps even run. The scent and that tingle up his bones, that every vampire got and felt when a Slayer was near. It was something he'd grown used to, even fond of, because of Buffy, but now Buffy was gone and there was only Faith - the outcast, the one who said everyone hated her. And yet...He sniffed the air slightly, in a manner which wouldn't be noticeable to his sudden audience. Not Faith. No Faith.
He eyes narrowed, breath being let out as a long hiss, smoke darting away from his mouth like a dragon's plume. "Slayer..." Here? What? How? His mind was racing - a Slayer was bad news. Of course, mainly because he was a vampire who couldn't actually fight back anymore, which mean stake in his chest sooner rather than later unless he played his cards right, but more than that...A new Slayer...new Watcher? They were here! They were doing it, hell, he was doing it! For Buffy, and they had Faith now. Another Slayer, here, just...
No. It wouldn't work. It wasn't right.
He stopped walking, and slowly turned, picoting on the balls of his black doc martins, until the bench was in his eyeline. The bench and the source of the smell and the voice. So you come here often? "I've been seen around," he said, wariness that he felt not even touching his own cocky voice. Her accent was even more foreign than his, he wasn't suprised to notice. Not suprised of anything, after the smell.
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Post by Elizabeth Rhoslyn Vatican on Mar 18, 2011 2:13:32 GMT
Eliza watched him as he blew out his cigarette smoke and then heard the word tumble from his mouth, slayer. That right there told her that he was a vampire, no doubt about it. She knew this because no one knew about her being the slayer, literally no one and if he knew just by looking over at her or rather sniffing the air then he must be a vampire. Only they could sense who or what she was just by her scent. All slayers had a similar scent, it differed from slayer to slayer but was still vaguely the same. Recognizable.
Vampire she echoed back to him standing in order to be ready for anything. So how come you don't seem all that surprised to see me and why haven't you made attempt on my life yet? she questioned wondering if he was different, if maybe his motives were different. He looked the part but for some reason she sensed that he didn't play the part. All of the other vampires she had met had attacked instantly but this one just stood there looking at her like he knew her. These were the times a watcher might be nice, considering a watcher would probably know who this fellow was.
I haven't she replied back in response to him saying that he had been seen around. Being as she had just arrived here not that long ago she really hadn't been seen around by anyone. Even the people at school seemed to not even notice her. She wasn't too broken up about it though because being under the radar was the way that she tended to like things. Attention created distractions and her job was the only thing that mattered right now to her. It was her job, her duty and her life. [/center][/blockquote] |
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Post by Spike on Mar 19, 2011 16:09:25 GMT
"Yippee, the little bint knows what's what," Spike muttered to himself, flicking the ash off the end of his cigarette with a snort. Why hadn't he attacked her? Killed her? Maybe because he bloody couldn't, the dozy cow. Why else would a vampire not attack a Slayer. Still, he wasn't going to let that cat out of the bag, no chance. Admit to being bloody well defenseless? He'd rather take a walk in the sun.
Or at least run, which was what he was planning on doing if anything went tits up. Which it could quite probably do.
"Oh, I'm suprised to see you. Honestly. This town already has one of you," he sneered, "It doesn't need another. So pack your bags, and sling your hook. And you haven't seen me? I'd be hurt if I could be bothered to give a damn. Which I can't." He turned to go. Talking to a Slayer which wasn't Buffy, which wasn't even the Replacement? Actually, come to think of it, this one was more of a replacement than Faith. This one must have been called when Buffy...
Well, after the fall. And that twisted in his gut and made him hate the sight of her more. He'd leave her. Leave her to be snacked upon by whoever else was out and about and could bloody well snack.
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