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The Legacy of the Chosen Ones

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[07 Jul 2006|08:16pm]

I don't know what is wrong with me. I should be more upset, Kennedy died and I am not more upset. Don't get me wrong, not having to think about it might have something to do with it, but I think there is more to it than that. The long and short of it is I never really loved her. Yes, it felt nice to have someone care, and someone there to ground me when I was flying away emotionally, but thats all she really was, if that makes any sense what so ever.

I know that this really isn't the issue right now, right now the issue is getting the slayers back to LA and getting them ready to fight whatever may come next, but I can't help having this nagging in my head about how horrible I am because I am not a useless mass sobbing in a corner because Kennedy died. It will have to be something I talk to someone about soon, but for right now I focus on the bigger deal.

Who would have thought that getting someone to believe that not only are they a slayer, but hey you get to leave everything you know and trust to move thousands of miles away to learn how to better fight for your life...ok so we don't really tell them like that, but sometimes it feels that way. You get into a routine of saying the same thing over and over and having doors slammed in your face or girls looking at you like you have grown not only a second head but maybe a third and fourth at the same time, there should be a manual on how to better inform a girl she is a slayer...hey maybe in my free time I will write that. HA, just kidding, like I would have free time. With all Xander and I have to do, free time is something that will be rare.

Now that we have gathered this group of girls, we are supposed to bring them to Los Angeles, meet at the hyperion and then get ready for the next trip..I think, who knows, plans could have changed.

[[open for anyone at the hyperion once we arrive...]]
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Fred and Robin Get Acquainted [30 Jun 2006|02:13am]

Robin: I grabbed my bags and headed towards the new hotel where we'd be staying at. The flight wasn't that bad, but I needed to shower and change, my suit was wrinkled and I needed some serious sleep. I walked into the hotel lobby and looked around, The Council really had it made, this is a nice place. I walked towards the desk and put my bags down as I rang the bell. Was I supposed to ring the bell? I couldn't remember what Giles had said.

Fred: I hop down the stairs, carrying a large teddy bear and my favorite lamp, a back pack slung over one shoulder. I pull up short when I see a tall black man standing in the lobby. He looks like he might be a client; I guess not everyone has heard we've moved. I walk down the last few steps and smile at him. "Can I help you?"

Robin: I about jump out of my skin when I hear a voice behind me, I must really be losing it, all this stuff with The First and everything else still has me a bit jumpy. "That depends, I'm looking for a room. Mr. Giles told me that I could find a new place here." I say to you. I shake my head, "Where are my manners, I'm Robin." I say as I extend my hand you when you walk the rest of the way down the stairs.

Fred: "Oh, hi!" I say with my usual southern drawl, balancing the teddy bear on my knee as I shake your hand. "I'm Fred, Mr. Giles isn't here, though. Not that I know of anyway."

Robin: "Fred?" I ask raising a brow making sure I heard her correctly, her accent is different than what I'm used to from living in the city. "That's interesting." I say with a smile, "Well in a good way; I've never met a female Fred before." I say before realizing I'm not making any sense. "I apologize I blame lack of sleep and shotty nerves."

Fred: I laugh and shrug. "I haven't either," I say with a smile. "I'm sorry, there're plenty of rooms here, if you're wantin' to get some sleep. You're from Sunnydale, right?"

Robin: I smile at her joke. "Yeah, I am. Are you psychic or do you pay attention when Giles talks?" I ask. "If you are psychic, any chance you can tell me if I'll have any fun here? I mean I know LA is big and all, but I really don't want to die either, am I going to die soon?"

Fred: "I'm not psychic, Mr. Giles has a lot of good things to say. And as far as dyin', well, if you stay around us too long you just might. We're not exactly in the business of rescuin' puppies."

Robin: "Well then, it's a good thing that I'm not a puppy and I don't need rescuing, well not too often anyway." I say with a smile. "You're right Mr. Giles says lots of important things, I just tend to act first and think about my actions later, and sometimes, I just don't think." I say honestly. "So where you headed too Fred?" I ask noticing the bag, lamp, and teddy bear. She's different from anyone I've ever met.

Fred: I giggle at that. "No, you're certainly not a puppy," I say as I look you up and down. "That sounds more like me. Give me a big gun and point the way," I say with a smile. "Most of us are movin' to Wolfram and Hart. It's a law firm, used to be evil, well, kinda still is I guess, but we're gonna try to make it less evil."

Robin: I take everything in that you just said, and you didn't even miss a beat. "Well there's another interesting fact about you Mrs. Fred, seems there's a lot more to you than meets the eye." I say. "Any chance you can show me the way to my room? And then maybe we can talk some more and get to know each other?" I ask hopeful as I pick my bags up.

Fred: "Just Fred, definitely no Mrs. But Ms. Burkle if you please," I say with a smile, putting the lamp and the bear on the round couch, shrugging my bag off of my shoulder. "Sure thang, there's a lot to choose from, you can pretty much have any of them you want. Some have pretty good views. And some have pretty good views of the alleyway out back."

Robin: "Well what do you suggest? What's your favorite?" I ask, maybe we'd end up next to each other, which I guess would be bad if she's seeing someone and they shacking up together. That would be bad, there's just something about her. I take my bags and follow you up the stairs. At least she wasn't married, so there could be hope. Not that I'm really looking or anything. I just need something different, Faith was good and all, but there was nothing there.

Fred: "Well, I guess mine is my favorite, but there's some others up there that are pretty good too," I say as you follow me up the stairs. I walk gracefully up them, turning to head down the hallway. "This one's mine, but any of them on this side will give ya the same view. Well, mostly, you know with the angle of the windows as opposed to the outside will change it a bit, but if you're not worried about geometry, I'm sure it'll be fine." I blush as I realize I'm going on. "Sorry, I just start talkin' sometimes."

Robin: "No chance I can move in with you since it seems to have the best view? I mean you can't cheat geometry" I tease as I walk down a few doors and nod to it. "How about this one?" I ask. "I don't want to be too close to your boyfriend or anything." I say testing the waters, maybe I could have a relationship with this Fred. She sure as hell was interesting and she was smart. That was definitely a plus.

Fred: I blush as you ask to move into my room. "You certainly can't cheat geometry, but I don't have a boyfriend. Not for a while now," I say with a shrug. "You really can pick any of the rooms you want, there's more on the upper floors if you want something a little higher."

Robin: "This is good." I say as I look at you, "Do I need a key or something?" I ask.

Fred: I shrug. "No one's gonna steal your stuff, but I can find one for ya if ya want," I offer.

Robin: I open the door and push it the rest of the way as I put my stuff inside. It's actually not that bad. "Any chance I can take you out to dinner? If you aren't too busy with your big move and stuff." I say.

Fred: I blink, surprised, but then smile. "I wouldn't mind that. I've got to warn ya though, I'm a big eater," I say with a self-conscious giggle. A lot of guys freak out when they see me eat.

Robin: "Well then, looks like I better make sure I bring my wallet,” I tease as I close the door, I don't have anything valuable anyway. "So where's the best place to eat around here?"

Fred: “Oh, I didn't mean you should pay, I just wanted you to be aware's all," I say as I lead you back down the stairs. "There's a lot of good places, what're ya in the mood for?"

Robin: "Whatever your heart desires." I say as I follow you down the stairs. "I'm paying, I asked you to dinner, isn't that how the costume works?" I ask as I follow you out of the hotel. "And honestly I'm up for anything."

On to Dinner and a Movie and MoreCollapse )
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Ten hours. [29 Jun 2006|02:01pm]

It's a ten hour flight from London to Los Angeles. Greta would say I'm foolish to do this, to leave behind everyone and everything I know, but she did always have the utmost faith in Rupert Giles and his unconventional ways. Personally, I rather thought she just enjoyed anything that put a bee in Travers' bonnet, but there's no denying that Mr. Giles' methods worked. His Slayer is alive and well, long after she should have expired. It's been rumoured that she actually did die, twice actually, but given that she's still walking around and shows no evidence of being a reanimated corpse, I tend to ignore those rumours.

I had been raised by my Watcher, Greta, with the hopes that I, someday, might be called. I think Greta was relieved when I turned twenty one and was considered too old to be a potential any longer, but I was disappointed. For as long as I could remember, it was what I had been trained for. There was no way for me to unlearn the nightmares, no way I could ever deny that evil truly exists, and Greta was proud when I enrolled in the Watchers' Academy. I was away on holiday in Germany with a group of friends when the Council buildings were blown up.

The spell that spread the Slayer power out over all the potentials gave me a small glimmer of hope. The thought that, perhaps, I might now be able to fight with the strength of a Slayer was more than a little thrilling. But it was not to be. I am a strong fighter, but I am no Slayer.

I have no idea what one does on a ten hour flight. I've never been to the United States, and I'm more than a little perplexed as to why the new Council appears to be joining forces with the most notoriously evil law firm in any known dimensions. This trip, if nothing else, should prove educational.

I fall asleep about an hour into the flight; the in-flight movie is dreadfully boring, some romantic comedy with far more focus on the romantic than the comedy, so I had taken out my cd player and listened to the Sumerian refresher disc I'd taken out of the library before the library went up with the rest of the Council, and the material wasn't exactly what you'd call riveting. When I wake up, the flight attendant is announcing that everyone needs to sit down and buckle up to prepare for landing. I guess I didn't need to worry about what I was going to do for ten hours, after all. I finish waking up while the plane lands, and I'm one of the last people off the stairs.

Mr. Giles said he'd either meet me at my gate or send someone to meet me. I'm not exactly expecting someone holding a big sign with my name on it, but someone who even appears to be looking for me would go a long way towards making me feel a little less lost.

(open to anyone)
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Weird. [28 Jun 2006|11:14pm]

Growin up around these parts...I've learned where to go...and where not to go. Where to eat, where to walk, and how to go home without meeting up with the pointy end of a gun.

Name's Jason...Wood. I grew up in L.A. This is my home. I'm not gonna tell you some bullshit lie sayin I was a priviliged kid, and that I never got into any trouble. Nope. I grew up in a foster home. My mom died when I was young, and my father left me. Yea. Some life. But I learned to live with it. I have my boys, my foster mom, and my gang behind me. I learned not to show any emotion...emotion makes you weak. Especially around here. You show and signs of weakness and you're dead.

I grew up in my foster home...I know of no other home. Every night me and my boys go out and wreak some havoc in the golden city, doing this...doin that...gettin together and drinking...clubbing...just shit. And I enjoy doin it. No remorse...no regret...none. Remember: Emotion = weak. I am a born leader and I lead my gang. They follow me. Whenever we have some business to do...we take care of it. When people come up agaisnt my boys, I handle it. I am tough and I won't have it any other way. Sure I've come up against death before...but really...if I died...no one would miss me that much...I mean hell...even my own parents up and left me. Not that I'm scared of death or anything. I have to be strong.

Always strong. I'm walkin around with my crew one crip evening in the heart of L.A. We just got out form hittin a tight club, and I got a girl waitin for me back at her apartment...I don't know her name...but it really dosnt matter. But first I gotta stop and pick up a couple of things. I tell my crew I'll hit them up later. I round the corner and head twoards the liquor store when all of a sudden this feeling hit me...

I couldnt put my finger on it....it wasnt painful feeling...it felt more like...


I felt strong...stronger than strong...what in the hell was happening to me? "Hey...J...you aight man?" I heard one of my boys ask me. I got up slowly dazed and consused."I'm aight....I'm aight." I say as I stand up from hunching over...I wasn't in pain, but something still was happening to me. "J...Man you aight?" One of my boys came up to me and asked. I stood up and brushed this feeling off."I told you I'm straight man." Trying to breathe again....somethin was happening to me.

"Aight dawg, Just trin to mmake sure you...oh shit, heads up yall. Stiffs commin twoards us..." another one of my boys yelled from the back. The stiffs were the other local gang around these parts...well besides us. If you were to guess that we didn't like each other to much, well then you would be dead on. The leader of the pack, D-Money, is a crack-ass little shit who think he can take me. Oh how wrong he's always been.

I walk up to him and stare him in the face intimdatingly. "What you want kid?" I said almost in his face. "What i want , is for you and your little Care Bear group to get the hell outta our part of town playa." This kid really irks me. He talks tough, or at least tries to, but whenever its time to step up to the gang, he punks out, snaps his fingers and walks away with crew. Straight outta a West Side Story scene....really sad. I wanna see how far he goes with this. This time I'm goin all the way and kicking his punk-ass back to whatever lilttle hole he crawled out of. "We'll go where we feel like bitch. What you gonna do about it?" I asked pushin him a little. He pulled out his knife and tried to thrreaten me with it. Bitch please...he comes at me with the knife and I could sense my boys comin up to back me up...but I could handle this shit myself. I dodge his thrust and pull his arm behind him to get him into a lock. I drop his knife from my hand and turn him around and punch him straight in the face.

He flies all the way to the wall and the bricks shatter. Wow. I stodd there for a second in amazement. Thats NEVER happened before. His boys...my boys...and me, we all look around in amazement. A split second later, his crew was gone. I turn around and look at my hands...not a scratch. What the hell is happening to me? I was never this strong. Am I like a freak or somethin?
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Opening Post [28 Jun 2006|12:42am]

It’s been 50 years since we’ve lived in this city. It’s a good place to live, well for my brothers and I. I mean we have it made here, we’ve lived here for a long time and people know us and fear us; they understand that we are The Tribal and we make other demons look like fucking faeries. Although I do remember when we first moved here and people thought we were just a joke, because we’re in human form and don’t look very menacing, but that’s too obvious if we were fucking green and giants then we wouldn’t blend in.

Needless to say, we showed them what The Tribal is all about, raising hell and having fun doing it. After we killed the group that ran things in New York we easily took over and after ensuring that different factions didn’t rise up and revolt we got comfortable, a little too comfortable. Which I guess was partly my fault for letting my guard down, but if my damn little brother had just kept his mouth shut and not been bragging about killing and torturing people we wouldn’t be in this situation.

You see, we have an interesting relationship, it’s a hate…hate relationship. For the most part, but when I hear about someone starting shit with family then it’s on. Needless to say that Hacious and I went to save Sacoughni. Not that he couldn’t handle it on his own, but we had to make a point, what we didn’t plan on was being ambushed by the factions from different places. Seems they didn’t like they way we were running things. We can handle our own after all, so after we took care of the problem. I decided it was time for us to move, the others were being anxious and edgy around us, which I guess is our fault, because we all have pretty bad tempers and kill people when they don’t do what we want.

We packed up most of our stuff and took a private jet to the City of Angeles. Los Angeles, California, time for a new start. Time to raise hell in a new city and establish the way that we run things. It’s a family business for us, and we’ve been dominating places since we were only a hundred years old, we’ve mastered our powers.

It’s been a while since I’ve killed someone and fucked with their mind, so when we first landed I made sure to find some fine pieces of ass to fuck with. Ended up getting serviced in the limo and got some girls for the boys too. I love just fucking with people, making them think we are royalty or something. Powers aren’t all that bad.

As we roll up to the new mansion I look around, it was a good price, seems people think it’s haunted and nobody wanted to move in, which I don’t blame them. The shit that happened here makes Amityville look like a fucking Easter picnic.

I step out of the limo and look around, it’s a nice place, we could definitely get used to living in this grand Victorian house and it’s out of the way so nobody will hear anything and there’s state of the art security.

This is going to be great; I’ve even already heard of this group of people who call themselves “The Scoobies” or something like that. Rumor even has it that there’s a slayer or two amongst them. It’s been a while since we had any real fun fucking with people.

I look at the boys as they get out. “Welcome home guys.” I say. 

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