Helping hand. It's what I do. No, it's what I am. I'm a guide, helping people to find their path. Sometimes, that means crawling out of Caritas, and going to a client. Especially when that client's a potential Slayer.

I know a little bit about Slayers. Not as much as Wesley, and not near as much as Angel-cakes, of course. I've heard of ( Read more... )

There are days when Los Angeles is like a gigantic, glittering jewel, catching and refracting the light like the dickens, spitting color and beauty in ever direction ( Read more... )

Haven't seen too much of my favorite marrieds in here lately, and that kinda bums me. Or burns me. Take your pick.

It's not as though they don't know where to find me. Even the bad guys know where to find me. The Princess of Darkness has been in here twice in the last week alone, sucking up Cosmopolitans and the ambience. Never sings, though ( Read more... )

Slow week at Caritas, which suits me just fine. Gives me far too much time to worry, though. Mostly about Angelbuns, Wes and Gunn. I mean, I know they're all big boys, all three, but I just...

I feel so useless sometimes, just acting as the signpost on the road to Gooddeedsville. Like I could be doing more. Like maybe I should be ( Read more... )

Angel and the rest of the crew have ditched town for a day or so to go to the big birthday shebang for his ex. I was invited, but I begged off. Somebody has to run Caritas, and without me, things just crumble around here so easily that it's unsettling. Or it would be to anyone without the added courage of fine whiskey ( Read more... )

Y'know, it's times like these that I begin to grow serious appreciation for the ability to do all my Christmas shopping via the magic of the Internet. Have you seen the crowd on the loose today?

Christmas is a wonderful time of the year. The most wonderful time, filled with cheer and goodwill amongst man and demon-kind, for the most part. But I ( Read more... )

Just got off the blower with Faith. That's one cookie that's on the verge of crumbling, right there.

Apparently, Oz went walkabout, sans leash of any kind, after some sort of disturbance in the etherial force at Casa de HeroWhat could I say? I'm not some sort of mystical bloodhound. I can't put my ear to the ground like Tonto and pick up his ( Read more... )

That'll teach me not to have demonic pyromaniac coverage in my insurance policy ( Read more... )

Not that I'm not completely on-board with the mission, and all that is both capital-R-Right, and capital-g-Good, but is it REALLY smart to be hiding out a werecritter in the basement of the Hyperion, even if she IS cute and mostly harmless when she's just a pretty little blonde art student ( Read more... )

You can spread the guilt here thicker than peanut butter. I don't even need anyone to sing...everyone's wearing their hearts pinned to their shirtfronts.

"Hello, my name is Wesley, and I'm burying myself in my work because I feel like a failure to my Slayer for not diagnosing her condition soon enough to nip this particular voyage of the Tragedy ( Read more... )