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chris groaned, pen in his mouth as he flipped through another book that was much of the same from the last. "how is it that every single one of these 'ancient texts' are the exact same information in a different font? like, come on."
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"oh please," rafe spoke before taking another bite of the onion ring, "this isn't the weirdest thing you've ever seen and we both know it."
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Well, what in the hell was this fuckery? Witchcraft? — Though not of any sort she'd ever come across. Nonetheless, that didn't mean it was ruled off the proverbial table. Especially given some of the warlocks and witches alike she'd met in her time. Of course, she was well aware of the shitshow that was their timeline, and the power that crept upon them, determined to bring them into a fiery pit of hell. However, she wasn't fully aware of just who managed to throw some portal do-over into the mix, to save those around them.
But, what Şeyda, did know? How to suss her surroundings. And, unfortunately, she knew that with her arrival into New Orleans meant she was not alone, likely a lot of the faces of her past would surely have resurged in 2012 alongside her. "This just gets better and better." Come to said realisation, the brunette allowed her forehead to fall into the palm of her hands, before it eventually pushed her long locks back, allowing eyes to fall onto the patron before her, who seemed to already be indulging in a drink.
"Your recent days 'bout as good as mine? 'Cause not that it's a competition, but I think mine's pretty fucking up there." A hand waving off said complaint as though it was trivial, but unfortunately for her, it was just scratching the surface. Especially given what she knew of the past, and what had yet to come.
this wasn't at all how buffy would've imagined her night. but, really ... when was it ever ? with a heavy sigh, she pushed the creature away from where it had been pinning her to the ground. it flew far enough for her to ready herself. "ugh, you know, just because YOU don't have a private life, doesn't mean you have to ruin it for all of us", towards the creature. "right ?", now clearly directed towards the other person slowly inching towards the scene unfolding. "now that you know that I know you're there, lend a hand ?", with the most brililant smile she could muster.
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there's a question that's been burning her from the inside out since coming back. all because of the paranoia and fear surrounding her conception. a hatred that singes every nerve in her. " why should i care about saving the witches that tired to kill me? " why should she care about saving a coven, a city of witches, from the wrath of outsiders? the simple answer: because deep down she still cares. but that anger burns hot and seeing it, being witness to the hatred and fear born of rumors, only makes that turn into an inferno. " maybe wyatt's right. "
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a SNAP bolted wesley's attention to the one standing before him. the other had uttered something- a joke ? - that they had chuckled at while the words flew through wesley's ears. "sorry." he said at their stare. "i think my sense of humor's trapped in a jar somewhere."
she stumbled but only briefly when she saw someone crossing into the line of fire from the demon that decided today of all days would be the best day to try and attack her. "hey!" she yelled at them before freezing the demon and popping out from where she'd taken cover. truth be told, she was pretty angry. so angry she let the attack go on longer than it should. "do you have a death wish or what?!"
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It was much like any other shift at Rousseaus, egotistical people of every variety storming into the establishment in a drunken parade, forcing her to have to play 'bad guy'. Little did she know, that she was far from as much in this city. She was just a psych major, mourning the loss of her twin, whilst fending for herself with a few shifts a week as a bartender. Those she could potentially be dealing with tonight? Far worse.
Her attention was being beckoned from the other end of the bar, placing up a finger to signal she was aware of their need, she called out, "I'll be right with you, give me a sec." The blonde stated, before finishing up the beverage of choice for the young woman ahead of her, clearly on break from school, as she celebrated with those equally as drunk around her.
"Right, sorry about that," Cami looked down, grabbing a fresh glass, before catching the eyeline of the company before her, "what can I get you?"
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Wandering the streets of New Orleans was a pretty standard ritual for Marcel Gerard, eyes glancing from pillar to post, ensuring nothing looked amiss. The last thing he wanted to deal with tonight, was some quarrel between the factions. Alas, so far so good this evening. Until he was stopped in his tracks, of course, leading him to believe that maybe that tension was about to take a shift. "Can I help you?" One of his men glancing across from the other street, before Marcel nodded, indicating he was perfectly capable.
"Assume you didn't stop me for no reason, right?" A shrug of his shoulders later, and he pressed on. "So, out with it."
she was weak, she was slow and the blisters were barbaric. "my tolerance is a joke now," katherine remarked pouring herself a drink. "it's glorious. " might have been the only good part of the whole 'human' thing. given her lack of compulsion, being able to get wasted far easier was a gift.
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it never failed to surprise amelia just how awesome the whole slayer thing was. her own personal 'spidey sense' a tingle on the fringes of her skin and then her instincts became loud. and amelia would be remiss to do anything but listen to what had never failed her before. "chose the wrong bitch today." she spoke with a gleeful tone, maneuvering around the whatever-it-was with ease. "wanna try that again?" was it bloodlust that made the thought of violence so enticing or just plain madness? regardless, amelia's grin resembled a shark showing their teeth.
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melinda had been spending as much time as she physically could in the new orleans libraries. it felt like the perfect places to avoid anyone and everyone from her time. her ID from a year that had not happened yet meant that getting a card of her own was completely out of the question. instead she read what she could within the walls of the building before scampering out empty handed, annoyed. today though, she'd found an occultist book that the whitelighter-witch wanted to take a longer look at. remembering the title, the second she was outside the girl summoned it. in a flurry of orbs, the tome landed right in her hands. pulling it close to her chest she started down the sidewalk. " excuse me, " melinda calls out to the figure a few feet before her, " you know the closest coffee shop around here ? "
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"whatever it was you saw, i promise it wasn't me." fiona defended herself, trying her best to hide just where she's been. "if this is the part where you give me a lecture, i don't want to here it, my day was rough enough as it is." @hellsmouthstarters
it was supposed to be nice. temperance had dreamed of being rescued from quor'toth, going shopping with her parents and finding a bunch of cute outfits to wear and amazing food to eat and--- now temperance couldn't even taste anything. she couldn't wear what she wanted because the wrong outfit showed stitched skin underneath reminding temperance of heart that wasn't hers. more then she hated the stares, she hated to catch herself in the mirror, she couldn't bare the sight of herself. someone, a total stranger at that, staring like they did-- only reminded temperance of what she didn't want to see. "stare much?" her tone was nothing short of jagged. followed up by - "creep." and maybe the guy was a cowardly idiot because he stumbled away in a sprint. briefly, she considered if that had been somewhat too harsh. "didn't mean to cause a scene." she offered to the bystander, the sorry unsaid.
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it shouldn't be so easy to forget. at this point they couldn't help but wonder if it was some kind of brain damage from the chip itself. maybe that was why rory kept ending up in brawls with human beings they could not actually fight. yeah, he was about to be pulverized. at least the bartender threw them both out so he was lucky enough to ruin the other guy's night too. "why do you think it's acceptable for you to be an idiot but not acceptable for me to point that out?" the guy threw a punch, and so rory threw their own. hopefully it would knock the other out because the instantaneous pain was CRIPPLING. migraine didn't even begin to encompass the all consuming pain in rory's skull that came from harming a human, accidental or not.
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Tyler had no idea who had brought him back from the dead this time around but they hadn't done him any freaking favors. Twenty years older than his prime hybrid form, in New Orleans of all places, and the music still freakin' sucked. "We couldn't have reincarnated me in the late 90's or something so I just got a total do over?"
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"You know, I thought that the people back in my hometown were sad sacks, but these people really take the cake," Evie mused, shaking her head as she took another sip of her coffee. The future world was desolate and bleak and downright depressing what with the whole pending end of the world thing and yet this version of New Orleans still seemed colder and sadder. It almost made her own bitterness seem tame in comparison.
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