Looking for a New Outfit by Kerkevik (for Prompt 222)
Hi,
AUTHOR: Kerkevik
CHARACTERS: OC, Darla,
PAIRINGS: None
RATING: PG (to be safe)
LENGTH:
PROMPT: 222 - Minor Characters from BtVS
AN: Gen, Set in BtVS S1, this has been written in the last two hours as a birthday gift, if I can get it posted off in time, for the deird1 whose birthday it will still hopefully be. Since my favourite thing of hers is her ability to create original characters and set them in the Buffyverse, and since the still_grrr prompt is for minor characters on Buffy the Vampire Slayer, I decided to try and combine the two, and - possibly - cheat using both ideas, and a familiar character from Angelthe Series, but who barely appeared on Buffy.
Looking For a New Outfit
by
Kerkevik
He didn't believe in all the tales about demons. They were all so much mediaeval superstition to him; relics of the old church, not the new one he was looking forward to.
But right now, Father Declan Callahan, of Kinteach, County Galway, was fervently wishing he'd stayed those extra three days that the Bishop had suggested to hear the talks of the Priest freshly returned from a small, benighted town in Southern California, but no, he'd fallen victim to his Family's Pride.
Neque receptus. Neque deditionem.
Besides he didn't believe in witches. He knew his history, and they were all victims of mediaeval paranoia; a protestant obsession.
As he came to a dead halt in front of a high wire fence; rear of an industrial reclamation unit, all he could hear was the sound of his own heart pounding like the hooves of the Four Horsemen; his breath coming in short, panicked bursts, he knew that... something was hunting him; something he couldn't explain was hunting him exactly the way he'd always imagined the old Lord Mayo's hounds had hunted the deer on his estate; land his own family had farmed in the Lord's name as far back as the days of the United Irishmen.
He used all his old Gardai training to calm his breathing, and tried to establish exactly what his situation was. In the gloom he managed to make out the roof on the other side of the fence; smiled when he realised it was reachable, and started climbing, confident that whoever it was chasing him, they wouldn't easily be able to follow a fit young ex-Gardai up there.
Reaching the roof in a matter of seconds, he paused to catch his breath and brave a look back down into the dimly lit gloom of the alley beneath him. Briefly, when he couldn't see, or hear, anything, he started to wonder how he could get to a telephone. Then he could call the Mother Superior at St. Ignatius, and get someone to collect him and the car whose tires had so mysteriously blown out.
Very briefly.
He stood up straight, and turned to look straight into the demonic face of a... vampire?
He didn't believe in vampires. They were the invention of Victorian gothic romanticism, and dark age eastern european ignorance. They certainly didn't stand in front of you with silky blonde hair; head cocked at an oddly curious angle, a sweetly chilling smile on her... it's lips.
"Hello Father," she said in a voice so innocent sounding that he thought he was hearing things. "I'm looking for a new outfit that might appeal an old boyfriend. I hear you know just where I can find exactly what I'm looking for."
He stared at her as she leant into his neck; unable to move for some unfathomable reason. He felt a sharp pain as she bit into his neck but, as he felt his life slipping away, all he could think of was what a good republican family was doing having such a Protestant phrase as it's family motto.
Still under Willow & Tara's spell,
Ray.
AUTHOR: Kerkevik
CHARACTERS: OC, Darla,
PAIRINGS: None
RATING: PG (to be safe)
LENGTH:
PROMPT: 222 - Minor Characters from BtVS
AN: Gen, Set in BtVS S1, this has been written in the last two hours as a birthday gift, if I can get it posted off in time, for the deird1 whose birthday it will still hopefully be. Since my favourite thing of hers is her ability to create original characters and set them in the Buffyverse, and since the still_grrr prompt is for minor characters on Buffy the Vampire Slayer, I decided to try and combine the two, and - possibly - cheat using both ideas, and a familiar character from Angelthe Series, but who barely appeared on Buffy.
Looking For a New Outfit
by
Kerkevik
He didn't believe in all the tales about demons. They were all so much mediaeval superstition to him; relics of the old church, not the new one he was looking forward to.
But right now, Father Declan Callahan, of Kinteach, County Galway, was fervently wishing he'd stayed those extra three days that the Bishop had suggested to hear the talks of the Priest freshly returned from a small, benighted town in Southern California, but no, he'd fallen victim to his Family's Pride.
Neque receptus. Neque deditionem.
Besides he didn't believe in witches. He knew his history, and they were all victims of mediaeval paranoia; a protestant obsession.
As he came to a dead halt in front of a high wire fence; rear of an industrial reclamation unit, all he could hear was the sound of his own heart pounding like the hooves of the Four Horsemen; his breath coming in short, panicked bursts, he knew that... something was hunting him; something he couldn't explain was hunting him exactly the way he'd always imagined the old Lord Mayo's hounds had hunted the deer on his estate; land his own family had farmed in the Lord's name as far back as the days of the United Irishmen.
He used all his old Gardai training to calm his breathing, and tried to establish exactly what his situation was. In the gloom he managed to make out the roof on the other side of the fence; smiled when he realised it was reachable, and started climbing, confident that whoever it was chasing him, they wouldn't easily be able to follow a fit young ex-Gardai up there.
Reaching the roof in a matter of seconds, he paused to catch his breath and brave a look back down into the dimly lit gloom of the alley beneath him. Briefly, when he couldn't see, or hear, anything, he started to wonder how he could get to a telephone. Then he could call the Mother Superior at St. Ignatius, and get someone to collect him and the car whose tires had so mysteriously blown out.
Very briefly.
He stood up straight, and turned to look straight into the demonic face of a... vampire?
He didn't believe in vampires. They were the invention of Victorian gothic romanticism, and dark age eastern european ignorance. They certainly didn't stand in front of you with silky blonde hair; head cocked at an oddly curious angle, a sweetly chilling smile on her... it's lips.
"Hello Father," she said in a voice so innocent sounding that he thought he was hearing things. "I'm looking for a new outfit that might appeal an old boyfriend. I hear you know just where I can find exactly what I'm looking for."
He stared at her as she leant into his neck; unable to move for some unfathomable reason. He felt a sharp pain as she bit into his neck but, as he felt his life slipping away, all he could think of was what a good republican family was doing having such a Protestant phrase as it's family motto.
Still under Willow & Tara's spell,
Ray.