la_champions
Allow me to check my watch again. Yep - another hour has passed and still no rescue. Sometimes, I had to wonder why these Angel Investigations kids had a business of helping people. It certainly didn't look as though *I* was going to be helped any time soon. They dragged me back to my home dimension in hopes that I would help them find some slave girl, and it's all been about her, her, her. What about me? I need to be helped!
Ugh.
Not to mention, by the way people, that my suit was absolutely ruined, stained with mud and caked with dirt from sitting on the floor of this rat infested cell. AND, to make matters worse, these damn shackles were chafing my wrists and my ankles. Oh wait, matters were already made worse, because let's NOT forget how Willow had been dragged out of here kicking and screaming, leaving me yet again to my own devices.
I worried about her safety as much as mine, don't get me wrong. Infact I worried about her a whole lot more than I did myself - she was the one with the magic. I was just the one with the bad rep and the family who wanted me dead. Which also made me wonder if they even knew I was back home. Not that I cared, they wouldn't be throwing me a welcome home party if my mother had anything to do with it.
Anyway, whining aside (which trust me folks, I could do all day), I didn't think things could get much worse until the door to my cell opened and a couple of those guard lunkheads pushed their way in. I swallowed hard, knowing that this was the end of the line. I was kind of hoping my rescue would come before this had to happen, but when are you ever that lucky?
"Get up, traitor," one of them spat at me, grabbing me by the arm and pulling me to my feet.
"Hey, hey, easy, easy, i'm getting up, i'm getting up," I whined, clearly annoyed by the needless use of excessive force. If they were going to kill me, the least they could do was allow me my last few minutes of dignity. Poking me in the back with their swords, they shoved me hard out the door and I scuttled with shackled feet down the dungeon corridors until I was brought up into the main palace. Sourly, I took note of all the tapestries and clean floors and thought they could have had the decency to share the wealth in my jailcell. Pfft.
We stopped before two broad iron-clad doors, and the guard shoved me hard once more. "You will now go before His Royal Majesty and receive your sentencing, which I will be more than happy to carry out myself."
I rolled my eyes, and braced myself for what lay next. When they opened the doors and shoved me through, I landed on my face and groaned. Kinda hard to brace yourself for that when your limbs are shackled. I struggled to my knees and looked up towards the dias, and what I saw shocked me.
"Lorne, pal, good on yer fer joinin' me. Gettin kinda bored in 'ere," Doyle said with a grin, leg propped up over the arm of his throne.
Ugh.
Not to mention, by the way people, that my suit was absolutely ruined, stained with mud and caked with dirt from sitting on the floor of this rat infested cell. AND, to make matters worse, these damn shackles were chafing my wrists and my ankles. Oh wait, matters were already made worse, because let's NOT forget how Willow had been dragged out of here kicking and screaming, leaving me yet again to my own devices.
I worried about her safety as much as mine, don't get me wrong. Infact I worried about her a whole lot more than I did myself - she was the one with the magic. I was just the one with the bad rep and the family who wanted me dead. Which also made me wonder if they even knew I was back home. Not that I cared, they wouldn't be throwing me a welcome home party if my mother had anything to do with it.
Anyway, whining aside (which trust me folks, I could do all day), I didn't think things could get much worse until the door to my cell opened and a couple of those guard lunkheads pushed their way in. I swallowed hard, knowing that this was the end of the line. I was kind of hoping my rescue would come before this had to happen, but when are you ever that lucky?
"Get up, traitor," one of them spat at me, grabbing me by the arm and pulling me to my feet.
"Hey, hey, easy, easy, i'm getting up, i'm getting up," I whined, clearly annoyed by the needless use of excessive force. If they were going to kill me, the least they could do was allow me my last few minutes of dignity. Poking me in the back with their swords, they shoved me hard out the door and I scuttled with shackled feet down the dungeon corridors until I was brought up into the main palace. Sourly, I took note of all the tapestries and clean floors and thought they could have had the decency to share the wealth in my jailcell. Pfft.
We stopped before two broad iron-clad doors, and the guard shoved me hard once more. "You will now go before His Royal Majesty and receive your sentencing, which I will be more than happy to carry out myself."
I rolled my eyes, and braced myself for what lay next. When they opened the doors and shoved me through, I landed on my face and groaned. Kinda hard to brace yourself for that when your limbs are shackled. I struggled to my knees and looked up towards the dias, and what I saw shocked me.
"Lorne, pal, good on yer fer joinin' me. Gettin kinda bored in 'ere," Doyle said with a grin, leg propped up over the arm of his throne.