Brian comes out of the closet.
Who: Spike, Brian Moser
What: Spike's back from Hell again and he's looking for his inmate. Vamp senses + Warden item = possible fiiight in the broom closet
Where: THE CLOSET D:
Warnings: Violence and general gore outta cover it.
Spike picks at his Warden item, a two hundred year old book, half full of scrawled poetry for a woman long dead. He'd read them to a bar full of people not a year ago. Now it didn't even feel real.
Then again, that's how the Barge had felt when he'd been in Hell on LA.
He drew in a quick, unneeded breath, wasting no time in climbing the stairs. The seventh level, getting closer... eighth level, and he could smell Brian. His relief palpably filled the air as he tucked William's book back into his duster - part of him still felt strange about it being a different one than Nikki's. But he would never forget her, even if the History books lost their pages.
Brian was still alive and he felt more relief still, but evil had a distinct scent as well-
And it was coming from the broom closet.
It felt like the moment right before being staked. He could swear he was sweating as he drew a cool hand across the door handle. He thought of his humanized sire tricking him into kicking down the door for him - so Spike wouldn't know the truth, that he couldn't anymore. Shaking his head to clear the image of Angel breathing, so delightfully bizarre it almost disturbed; certainly unsettled the mind - as if he weren't touched enough already.
Enough of this bloody banter, you're sounding like George now.
He kicked in the door with boots, still shiny from Italy (he wondered idly if they were enchanted as he slowly drank in the scene before him).
What: Spike's back from Hell again and he's looking for his inmate. Vamp senses + Warden item = possible fiiight in the broom closet
Where: THE CLOSET D:
Warnings: Violence and general gore outta cover it.
Spike picks at his Warden item, a two hundred year old book, half full of scrawled poetry for a woman long dead. He'd read them to a bar full of people not a year ago. Now it didn't even feel real.
Then again, that's how the Barge had felt when he'd been in Hell on LA.
He drew in a quick, unneeded breath, wasting no time in climbing the stairs. The seventh level, getting closer... eighth level, and he could smell Brian. His relief palpably filled the air as he tucked William's book back into his duster - part of him still felt strange about it being a different one than Nikki's. But he would never forget her, even if the History books lost their pages.
Brian was still alive and he felt more relief still, but evil had a distinct scent as well-
And it was coming from the broom closet.
It felt like the moment right before being staked. He could swear he was sweating as he drew a cool hand across the door handle. He thought of his humanized sire tricking him into kicking down the door for him - so Spike wouldn't know the truth, that he couldn't anymore. Shaking his head to clear the image of Angel breathing, so delightfully bizarre it almost disturbed; certainly unsettled the mind - as if he weren't touched enough already.
Enough of this bloody banter, you're sounding like George now.
He kicked in the door with boots, still shiny from Italy (he wondered idly if they were enchanted as he slowly drank in the scene before him).