#owed starter

[lovesaidno-archive]

@clairewrites1x1

Another night of pretending to work. Granted he did actually own the nightclub, he never did much real work. Mostly overseeing things and making sure no one ruined the mood. Victor stood at the side of the bar, eyes glancing around the room while he puffed on a cigarette. Looking over the many faces that caught his attention in more ways than one. It wasn’t until he saw her, sitting there seemingly bored. In his club?? He would not have this. 

Victor grabbed a bottle of, well, whatever from behind the bar and moved over to the woman. “You look so bored!” He spoke up and gave a smug smirk as he wiggled the bottle at her. “Let’s try and change that” He sat down next to her, eyes un-apologetically roaming over her body and then looked back up to her face. “I’m Victor. I own this place” He held out his hand then as he introduced himself. That smug expression never leaving his face. 

[valor-will-rise-moved]

//well, that went a bit faster than I expected once I got started. @fracticns , I'm working on your starter next.

[lovelymayor]

@wildefoxe

“Well. Aren’t you the picture of nobility in that uniform...” The mayor observed, shaking her head. A car had run a red light and struck the sedan she was being driven around in - her driver never had a chance to avoid it. The driver was okay, but it had happened in front of Nick’s patrol car as it waited at the same red light.

The mayor, a wolfess, sat on the curb, nursing her bloodied forehead. “Our first fox officer and you just happened to meet me on my lucky day. Officer Wilde, yes? I read the papers. Pleased to meet you - I am Mayor Canidae. 

[ourprodigalsons]

Levy’s breath left his lungs in a gasp from the forceful meet-and-greet of his side with his brother’s knee. He stumbled backwards, and Evayn dug the hells of his feet in the grass for balance. There was nothing to imply that he was holding back in his eyes; his hands were held close to his face, curled into fists, beads of sweat had begun to form on his forehead and on his upper lip.  Levy charged. Evayn lunged to the side, hair flying around his face; red eyes quickly scanned the environment around. Soon enough he was jumping up, using his hands to grab into the lowest branches of the tree above him, and hurled himself up, touching his knees to his chest. He kicked out. His feet met with hard bone. Levy fell back. Evayn jumped right off and ontop Levy, a victorious grin on his face. Beneath him, his brother lets out an angry groan, but it just makes him laugh. Victory is a sweet flavour, and Levy not the best of fighters- it’s just how it is, how it’s always been. How it’s been every day for years now. However, today something is different. Something caught his attention. He fe;y a presence- a tug in his gut. Evayn looked up and ahead of him.  The smile froze on his face- his eyes grew round. Surprise washed over his features in seconds as he tried to make out the features of the figures ahead. Did they have visitors? Then he noticed his string had shortened. His heart stopped.

[spiketheforsakensoul]

It’s Always About the Chase...

Spike heard a chase going on outside his crypt.  Curiosity took hold and he pushed the marble stone open to see what it was.  He heard panting and laboured breathing, and felt something chasing a familiar scent.

 It wasn’t until he saw Tara that he gestured toward the crypt, “In here!”

[spiketheforsakensoul]

On the Rocks

Spike paused feeling someone following him not so slyly, or someone who was trying overly hard to seem undetectable.  He paused at the little club just of the main drag of Sunset Boulevard in Los Angeles and ordered up a drink, “Jack on the rocks.”

[spiketheforsakensoul]

Old Habits

“Tara?”  Spike announced himself as he came in from outside, with Stalks by Night at his heels.  The kitten looked a little feral her fur poking up as if she’d gotten wet.  Actually she was damp but more from the dew in the late-night grass than actual water.  She’d been hunting in the flat’s front lawn while Spike went to find food for himself at the butcher’s.

He set the paper sack on the counter and pulled out the plastic quart container along with a few items he’d come to pick up.

[spiketheforsakensoul]

Hell-A

Spike was exhausted, he’d watched LA burn, but he’d made it-- he wasn’t exactly sure who else from their little Wolfram and Hart rabble had as well.  Something told him Angel was still out there somewhere, that bloody bastard was hard to kill.

Slogging through another dark alley, he saw a feminine outline in the glare of headlights and tried to shield his eyes as he squinted, “Who’s there?”