The lobby of the Kashtta Tower may not be the best place to dissemble one's weaponry and clean it, but Daniel Jackson doesn't particularly care. Maintaining his guns is something that has been drilled into him since his first day in the army, and old habits die extremely hard. Even though there's no danger of sand getting into the firing mechanism ( Read more... )

Egon is not used to just sitting around, but without any solid leads and with the new uneasy peace between angels and demons, he figures there isn't much he should do towards that end. And he still hasn't managed to get in touch with Eloi, but he'll get on that as soon as the words come to him. This is hard ( Read more... )

In the lobby, there is an Angel of Healing who is standing with a plate of cookies and brownies and other sweet treats on a tray. It's been a particularly tough week, and she's honestly sick and tired of everything that has gone on. She's fighting back.

She spent several hours in the basement, and the plate she's currently holding is by no means the ( Read more... )

Harry has set up a stone target in the Main Gauche courtyard - nothing fancy, just a big rock with a frowny face painted on - and is tossing tiny spears of Hellfire at it with his blasting rod. His control is much greater than he remembers; the surrounding ground is barely scorched. He wonders if it would be possible to cast a Hellfire whip of some ( Read more... )

The basement has been rather quiet since most of the Wanderers moved out. Egon doesn't mind; he doesn't really get the whole crowds thing anyway. Though he feels a foreign pang of regret that Eloi left with the others, he's not sure how he feels about having a son. He's grateful for the chance to reflect on it, if nothing else. So, of course, he's ( Read more... )

Egon is not happy. As soon as he and Vincent arrived at the hotel, his new acquaintance ran off to tend to some confrontation with the First and a local troublemaker, leaving him rather adrift for the moment. He's not really a people person, but it would be damn nice to actually be able to get down to business. It's been a while since he's had a ( Read more... )

The taxi cab drops him off on Michigan Avenue, somewhere close to the middle. Egon Lothar drops a bill in the cabbie's hand and grabs his duffel bag, slinging its familiar weight over his shoulder and looks up at the city. Humans walk every which-way, all of them absorbed in their own petty business, ignoring him. He doesn't care. It's better that ( Read more... )