Night 29: Intercom, Beginning of Night

[damned_intercom]

It wasn't too long before the intercom crackled back on, though now there was a heavy static that came with it. It was worse than most nights, with loud feedback interspersed among the overpowering static

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[manhattan_red]

Brooklyn didn't even have to open his eyes to realize that something was off. It all had to do with a gargoyle's normal sleeping methods, you see. They're normally standing when the sun takes them, frozen in a fierce position to ward off enemies. Waking up also involves much roaring and stretching and shattering of stone. They are not, generally speaking, used to waking up laying on their back, motionless. But this was how the young gargoyle found himself now, and opening his eyes to stare up at the ceiling didn't bring any more answers to the questions already spinning in his mind - first off being What on earth was he lying down for?

There was a single irrational moment where he thought something might have happened to knock him off the building. But if that was the case he would have been shattered into a million pieces. Even if something had caught him he still wouldn't have woken up so quietly. He felt around in the dark, searching for stone pieces of skin upon what he soon came to realize was some sort of bed. That didn't make

[Nightshift: 27] Room Number Unknown

[spiral_to_ebony]

Consciousness came to Jaenelle in the form of a stabbing hunger pains and the sensation that her head had been stuffed with cotton balls and bees. What was happening? She remembered the beginning of her maelstrom as she pushed her way down to the full depth of her Ebony jewels. She remembered reaching that dark place that was her home in the abyss and preparing to unleash the power that would cleanse the Realms of Dorothea and Heketah’s taint, but Jaenelle Angelline did not remember actually doing it.

The body was supposed to have been ravaged; she didn’t even want to look quite yet to see what had gone wrong. She was hesitantly wary as she worked her hands over each arm, then her face, and finally her torso. Jaenelle stretched out her legs and felt a small wave of joy. Everything still worked. She was whole

[heartofrevenge]

He knew exactly how things were supposed to go when one died, of course. You died, saw whoever it was that came to greet you (if anyone), and then you passed on. This was, of course, providing you weren't due for another incarnation or the Emperor of Heaven needed your spirit for something, like guarding the shinzaho of your priestess, for example. He supposed he could have understood if either of those two things had occurred to him; he certainly had much to atone for and there was probably a lesson there that he didn't quite learn properly.

Yet, here he was, laying upon what he thought was a bed; at the moment it was far too dark in the room to tell. Even so, this wasn't right. He was dead, wasn't he? He hadn't just imagined that...

No, of course he couldn't have imagined such things. He distinctly recalled feeling his fist through his chest, feeling everything slipping away from him as the brat now knew what had happened to him... he had even seen Soi and his mother before he lost consciousness entirely and they were certainly

[heartofrevenge]

[Going here]

Room: ?

[mozenwrath]

Mozenrath groaned, putting a hand to his face and rolling to the side. "Xerxes, what time is it? I feel as though I have been asleep for eternity," He mumbled before he even opened his eyes.

Of course, the moment he did, his demeanor changed dramatically. He was in an unfamiliar room, on an unfamiliar bed. Startled, the sorcerer stumbled off the bed and pressed himself against the wall. Where was he? What was this place? And what was he wearing? Incredulously, he grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled it up and out for a look at it.

These weren't his clothes. These were remotely like his clothes. These were tasteless, ugly, and grey. Who had dared to kidnap him, undress him, then redress him in a style they chose? And with nothing to cover his hair at that! That was the least of his problems when he realized that a far more important article of clothing was missing

F??

[wishescankill]

Everything hurt. Anya was very unhappy, all because stupid Buffy and her stupid kill-all-the-demons attitude.

The vengeance demon opened her eyes, and found herself in a very strange place indeed. The last thing she remembered was being stabbed through the chest with a giant frickin' broadsword. Was this some sort of hell dimension?

"Great! I'm in Hell! This is just perfect!" Anya glanced around, trying to get some sort of bearing on where she might be. If this was a hell dimension, it was one of bland and tasteless interior decoration. The only spot of color in the entire room seemed to be... a smiley face on the front of her shirt