( spoiiiilers for the Angel series finale )

Eames awakes late in the afternoon to the depressingly familiar sound of over-large feet kicking their way through the front door of his flat. A lurch of adrenaline propels him up and out of bed before his body remembers how hungover he is, a vile headache stabbing him between the eyes and temporarily crippling him whilst the ominous feet stomp ( Read more... )

A hot night in July, the kind of night when the air hangs heavy and still, not a breath of air to stir the leaves of the trees, or the curtains of windows left open in the Mansion, to let in what fresh air there might be. A full moon shines through the treetops, silvering the drowsy land and trees, painting every leaf in blue-white light ( Read more... )

Spike hasn't been out in some time, he's been keeping mostly to his room trying to sleep and heal up like a mortal. It's working but slowly. Unfortunately since his last experience in the woods he hasn't been much for 'hunting', if you could call it that anyway. He's currently in the kitchen with a bit of milk on the stove for cocoa. A pot of hot ( Read more... )

From the dark confines of the vortex of nothingness where his consciousness lurks, Morgoth has been observing. Waiting. Counting ( Read more... )

In one quiet corner of the library (not the one where he usually studies with Morgana, but another), Steerpike can be found classifying books. After one particular ordeal he went through while hunting down a grimorium of minimal importance, it seems the kitchen rat turned student is giving in to a destiny he doesn't quite know about.

In other words ( Read more... )

Finally, everything's ready - and Johnny's been in a better place than he has been in a long time. It has to do with a lot of factors: there's a basement bar that he can call home, and though it's not the Underground Cafe, it's close enough - better, almost, because that's one he worked to get into shape. Now, he would love to have Marie-Jeanne ( Read more... )

Very suddenly in the middle of the common room there is a flash of bright light followed by a poofing sound and a puff of pink smoke. When it clears a peculiar-looking figure can be seen ( Read more... )

    It is not the ( Read more... )

He arrives much the way he went out, at least from his perspective. Light, burning, pain. Still he doesn't cry out and as the effects begin to wear off and his vision clears finds himself not exactly where he expected. The only telling sign of what he's just endured is a scorched hole in his shirt and a large burn on his chest, remnants of the ( Read more... )