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Cordelia QUEEN C Chase header down goes here

moved to a city in a broke down car, now you're looking pretty in a hotel bar

DEAD MAN WALKING - I can't remember what it was like - not knowing you, not being close to you. I'm in love with you Angel — thats what I would have said, ya know if we ever got to the bluffs, but we didn’t, somehow, somewhere I was intercepted. Like my love life didn’t suck enough as it was. Xander Harris? Half Demon Doyle? Random Impregnating Joe? Groo? I’m a freaking magnetic for complicated. Just this once, a small break, is that too much to ask for? I’d given up on money, fame, fortune, and recently even mental and physical health, but can a girl just get a date? Angel had attacked Wolfram and Heart for the last time, his cat and mouse games with them, finally baited them to the table, and yeah, boy, howdy, they put all their chips in. So, that’s how I ended up here, serving 9 to 10 as Lindsey McDonalds wife to be if Angel doesn’t step up and save me. Can he undo what Wolfram and Heart created? Will I even want him to? I have a whole life now, a career, a fiance, a home, I haven’t had a vision in days, weeks, maybe months, it’s hard to tell, mind wipe and all. I don’t remember the supernatural world, all I know is I’m happy. Happy-ish? Okay, it’s all manufactured crap. Lindsey’s crap. Normal’s crap. I know somethings missing, I might not know who he is, but I feel him, when he’s around, I feel it.

so baby pull me closer bite that tattoo on your shoulde we aint ever getting older

THE HERO - As if life wasn’t complicated enough being a teenager living on a hellmouth, going to work for my supernatural crime fighting arch nemesis’s vampire ex-boyfriend with a soul, guided by a part demon and his visions, visions he then passed onto me, until my eventual death, I came back, thanks powers, to a city that didn’t look the same, to friends that didn’t remember me. But it wasn’t just that, it was that he didn’t remember. I thought my life as a seer was complete, I got my champion on his path, and then bam, I get a shiny bright reward, and do over, but so did he, except they really hit the reset button on Angel. Or should I say Agent Seeley Booth? They rewrote his entire life, so instead of helping the helpless, they gave him a government issued gun, badge, and oh did I mention the two kids and ex wife. See? Complicated. Go figure, now that he can tan, and have happiness, and then some, he becomes this whole other Joe, Joe Big Government, with weird socks, and inappropriate belt buckles. Cocky? How about, arrogant? Temperamental? Stubborn? And infuriatingly handsome. He still has that dumb lopsided grin when he says something entirely goofy or and that smug smirk when he know’s he’s right, and those eyes, there still Angel’s eyes. He’s still Angel. Sure, he might not be mine anymore, not that he ever really was, you kinda have to stick around long enough to call someone your boyfriend before you stake claim, but he was mine-ish, we had a connection, ya know beyond champion and seer, there was a friendship, a dependence, real feelings. Maybe that’s why fate through us back together? Kyrumption, and all that.

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More Roleplayers Torrent 𝕷𝖚𝖓𝖆𝖗 𝕯𝖊𝖎𝖙𝖞 Addie, Avery-love T&L Josh 𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑙 𝑛𝑢𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟𝑠. SOUL SAVER. renata. 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐝. ѕнσт σƒ вяαη∂ι. 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍. Peszhina ᵂᵒˡᶠ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗ Tanner Steel Chuckie. 𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐝𝐲. ʆɑuʀɛɳ Taʏɭɷɾ Neon Angel ᶜᵘᵖᶜᵃᵏᵉ ᵃˡᵖʰᵃ 𝕯𝖔𝖔𝖒𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗 Mimi 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐊𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚕𝚑𝚊! Untamed Curse Dɾɑgσƞ sσɾceɾess 𝗞𝗡𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧𝗦𝗛𝗔𝗗𝗘. Beautiful Force C&𝕮 Piper Rose Galadriel ~FOS~ Maddy Cade (9) Naruto Raven Jude Morgana Master Thief fierce h e a r t. 𝐨ߴ𝐡𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐚 ɢᴏᴏᴅ ɢɪʀʟ. Robbie(M) Mathias 𝑫𝒖𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚 𝑰𝒏𝒌 Show More Roleplayers. . . surgeon of mean's Friends Comments Displaying 10 of 37 comments (View All | Add Comment) deadmanwalking Apr 25th 2020 - 1:44 AM Send Comment | Send Message | Block User my girl.  𝐭𝐡𝐞𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒐 Aug 11th 2019 - 9:28 PM Send Comment | Send Message | Block User #THEHERO #SURGEONOFMEAN #2019/08/11 I WANT YOU OUT OF MY HEAD, He wanted to tell himself it was better for her to be away from him. Booth had told himself that every time he lost a girl, every time he had to doubt that he did the best for them. But the way Cordelia was rung in his head with a resounding thump. Booth fell in love so many times before, but this one was different. This time, his heart strung a chord that was a thousand times more difficult to ignore. He knew it wasn’t just his feelings, but the Angel that Cordelia probably wanted to see wanting her too. But I’m Booth, I have kids and I’m human. She’s looking for a vampire. He let his voice come out in a shaky sigh, the first sign of having been a little affected by everything that happened in the past five minutes. Threats against Bones, Cordelia rejecting him. He was starting to understand that he was probably not the all attractive, all knowing FBI hero that he always thought he was. This might be the firs ttime that Booth really felt rejected, and in all honesty, he wished it had been Bones instead.   After the note was picked up, Booth had to watch her look at it, examine it. She had a good head on her shoulders. Booth had met so many profilers and detectives in his time, many of which failed to ever give their clients any sense of confidence. For a cheap affair detective, she definitely knew how to make somebody feel good about themselves. Where Booth took a step away from her, to compose himself, he saw how she handled the idea that someone wanted her to be dead. He pinched the bridge of his nose, looked away from her, and tried to inhale as much fresh air as he could. Not only had he confronted vampires in the span of a half hour, but he’d also realised how dangerous this entire affair really was. Cordelia wasn’t afraid. Booth supposed it was because she was still assuming Angel would protect her with all he had.     A selfless love was probably closer to what she felt for Angel. Angel who had at some point been allowed to have a human heart and given a nice, human identity as a soldier who served in Iraq. Booth felt his muscles tense with the idea that maybe some of his merits hadn’t been earned. He had no idea who he was, and part of him felt as if it needed to rediscover these things. How much of him would disappear if he got to know who Angel was? How much was legitimate?     Any sort of reconciling words fell on deaf ears. Booth felt a sense of guilt now when he realised he wasn’t even that worried about Bones. He looked down at Cordelia, let his shoulders shrug a little, and kept his expression somber. She shouldn’t have to know that he was upset because she didn’t return his feelings. He misread some signs, misread something about her. Booth wasn’t that good with women, even if he wanted to be. He breathed out in a puff, and then took out his car keys. The vehicle beeped, and he didn’t bother arguing with her. Where did she want to go? What heart did she want to break now? Cordelia the heartbreaker was a good villains name.     But he could also picture her as just Cordelia, a girl who fell in love with some sort of a vampire. Memories twined together. Booth let out an irritated groan, then just agreed with her and silently went along to the hotel.     There, he changed out of the trench coat and jeans combo and back into a suit with a white shirt. It felt comfortable to have the expensive Hugo Boss suit back around him, with a familiar pair of yellow and pink striped socks and his belt hidden under his clothes. He could look at himself in the mirror when he had them on and not see someone else looking back at him. Cordelia’s words fell on deaf ears while he tried to contemplate how he could even talk to her. Did she not know that rejecting someone made them antisocial? What kind of person did she think he was, who didn’t care that he loved her and couldn’t be with her?     “I’m not Angel,” he said, into the mirror. He gave the mirror a funny expression, with eyebrows raised and face scrunched up. “I’m Booth. Seeley Booth. FBI Agent. I’m Booth who has three kids. I am not Angel.”     It sounded insane, what he was saying to himself in the mirror. He didn’t know what prompted him to talk to himself instead of answering Cordelia. He hadn’t said a word since they drove away from the bar, gotten away from a stressful situation that could have resorted in the two of them dying. Booth missed Washington and the familiarity of crime scenes. He folded arms over his chest, let himself make a serious expression. “I’m Booth,” he repeated. But the unfamiliar man who stared back looked younger, broodier and awkward in the suit. “… I’m, Angel,” he said, a little louder than intended. The confusion was probably more telling of how stupid he sounded. “Nevermind—” he told himself, and turned away. THERE'S NO WAY I CAN SAVE YOU, 'CAUSE I NEED TO BE SAVED TOO     Hopefully no one had heard him. No one needed to know how confusing it was to lose your identity.     Cordelia was already out of the shower, in a towel. And like she’d predicted, Booth turned to a wall and gave it a very serious, very important glare. “I’m not gonna look,” he offered. His voice sounded unusual, blatant and lacked a very positive tone. Booth found every second changing him. The more he was around Cordelia, the less of Seeley Booth he could see in himself. Someone else was invading him. Cordelia’s boyfriend, a vampire? Or maybe he was finally going insane.     When she’d changed, he turned around and subconsciously had to lift his hand and play with his tie. She looked good. He knew the clothes, Bones sometimes dressed like this when they went out, before she had kids. Bones was gorgeous, but Cordelia was different. A type of beautiful he hadn’t seen before. She looked innocent despite obviously being every 90’s movie queen bee character he’d ever seen. Despite himself, Booth had to lift his hand and wipe away at his cheeks. Blood rushed to them, letting him know he was a little too attracted to her.     Just remember, she loves Angel. Not me. Never me.     He carefully extracted his cellphone, dialed some number, and lifted it to his cheek. “Hey, Cam. I need a favour. Yeah, I’m still with her. I texted some coordinates. Have Arastoo look over the bones you find there, identify what killed them. I want an ID, you have to compare it to a historical archive. Don’t ask questions about why,” he ordered, quickly. If they could get the bones from inside of that pit called Sunnydale and find actual bodies it was one step closer to what they needed. “Did you get any leads on Bones?”     “You should probably stay there, Agent Booth. Something strange happened. The database was hacked, and someone got information about all of us,” Arastoo’s voice interrupted. “Including you.”     Booth’s heart hammered in his chest. He put the phone on speaker – so Cordelia could hear the precious conversations he had with the Jeffersonian. “There’s something else, someone left an entire locked file on our system. We can’t get the password, but we forwarded it to your confidential email. It’s probably a password based around an algorithm, from what an intern could gather, it has to do with that big company.. Wolfram and Hart? We did a preliminary scan, it might be information to help us find Dr. Brennan.”     Angel knew the company, but he knew almost nothing about it. Went bankrupt years ago, stopped being relevant. He looked down at Cordelia inquisitively. “Yeah, got it. Anything else?” “Just take care. We’re waiting for you and Dr. Brennan. The kids are staying with my father, so don’t worry about that,” Arastoo explained.     When the phone cut, Booth had a clear reminder of who he really was. Too much time spent around Cordelia put him in a heady daze where he was forgetting who he was. He was Booth, an FBI agent, Bones best friend, her ex-husband and a father. He had an entire building of squints to look after. He finally felt something like confidence boost back into him. When he looked at Cordelia, gone was the apprehensive, broody frown he knew he had the entire time. He could smile, relax himself, and do something more in his area of expertise – supervise squints.     After a minute, he grabbed his laptop, conveniently stored to one side, turned it on, opened his email, and opened the email that Arastoo sent him. It was a locked file, a four letter combination. There was an even more significant hint: temporary head of legal department.     “I think it’s a name,” he commented, even though he did a brief google search. There wasn’t much left about W&H, even though it had been a leading law firm at some point. “Something in this file is important. It might not have to do with Bones, but if it helps anybody, I want to see,” he decided. He offered the laptop out to her. I'm no good at goodbyes. 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒐 Aug 10th 2019 - 10:29 PM Send Comment | Send Message | Block User #THEHERO #SURGEONOFMEAN #2019/08/10 CULTISH, You were the one who made the world make more sense than it had in over a century. More than it ever did. You made all of us whole, connected us. Without you, everything fell into shambles. We had no way to reconnect the pieces. To be whole again, we had to separate. None of us can do this without you, even a couple years later. We’re slow, we’re old, and we’re ready to give up the fight. It’s not easy.   They spent so much time apart, that the few times they came together were rare. When they did, it was barely tolerable for any of them to truly talk to one another. In all of the time apart, he spent a considerable portion of his time assessing his world, forming new equations to his every move, trying to find what could make them feel whole again. The answer was the same. It wasn’t a building, it wasn’t a place – it was a person, who never came back to them once she’d been taken away. It was cruel, and the whole of their efforts fell to waste at every given opportunity. It was time to accept the truth. They were better off separated, unable to work as a functioned whole. They could handle the evils of Los Angeles and America better apart than as a whole, because the various bits of glue, the connecting piece, had been a teenager from Sunnydale who thought fashion was the pinnacle of human creation.   This particular day was important. It marked the only day they would all converge together in Los Angeles to visit a gravesite. Two graves were very real, very tangible. They held bodies in them. The others were in memoriam, and simply served as markers for those who’s bodies were not or could not be recovered. It was her birthday – Cordelia – and it was a day they chose to honour her. These visits became yearly, but since he’d acknowledged her birthday as most important, he had also decided it would be the occasion to visit most. Be a part of something again, experience more than the guilt that plagued his existence. He let another few lives fall apart, the demon inside of him more likely to swallow and consume him whole than it was to help him remove the feeling of guilt.     He exited the black Chevy Charger he purchased some few weeks ago, devoid of a real name. The gravesite was empty, only the sound of wind, rain pounding on the ground, and night entering the area at midnight. Hands shoved in his pocket, until the telltale sound of his cheap, $15 a month flip phone rung in his pocket. He lifted the phone, pressed it to his ear, and took in the hurried voice on the other end. Gunn, now two years older and physically years less capable of running and jumping like he did before, was the first voice to fill his ears. “Angel, we gotta problem,” he said, breath staggered. Are you late, he wanted to ask. Did you forget what today is? Did you forget what it means to her?     But he didn’t. He gave a sort of grunt of approval, just to listen. “That coven we investigated of Mormons, they’ve been kidnappin’ girls from graves and trying to force souls into the corpses,” Gunn added. He was quick to get to the point, something Angel appreciated. But what he said wasn’t as important as what they had to do now. Tapped his foot on the ground, let out an impatient sound. Finally, with rain still beating down on his head, he considered the condition of his flip phone (not waterproof) and the fact that the sun rose in five hours. He considered how he wanted to do this quickly, and the flowers in his other hand were not waterproof either. “We’ll investigate it after we go see Cordy,” he decided. “I can’t be there, Angel. I’ll go later—”     Phone cut off, Angel slid it into his pocket. He walked up the paved steps to the graveyard, bypassing gates and ducking his head low from any intrusive stares that might pervade the night. He was the only person here at midnight, the only person who resisted wind and rain to visit someone in the dead of night. The abnormality of his very presence elicited the worst of reactions from those who didn’t know what lurked in the night. Cloaked by how he blended into the dark, he made his way towards a grave located in the far east quadrant. It was surrounded by other graves, but the one most familiar to him had special markings, denoting how important she had been to them all.     At approaching the grave, his feet came to a still. His head lowered, until he could make out the horrifying reality of what was in the grave. Undisturbed for two years, the grave should have remained buried six feet under, with dirt covering the top layer and a neat little notch of different flowers from the year littering the top. Instead, the circumstances permitted an open coffin, dirt on either side, and the emblem of the Mormon Cult of Satan carved into the gravetop. The lillies, in a white, that he purchased hours before were dropped on the ground, and he turned to make a mad dash back to his vehicle. His feet pounded along tarmac until he approached the vehicle, pulled the door open and slid into the driver seat. It turned on with a roar, giving way to an ancient sound in car consumption of gas that would have made most people shake their heads. His phone was out in an instance, fingers flickering over the various numbers until he hit the new number for Gunn.     “I told you I couldn’t make it right now, Angel. It’s midnight for f***s sake—”     “Meet me at that cults village. Now. Those bastards took Cordelia.”     The conversation ended there, and he revved off onto the local highway to make his way to where he recalled the cult originally residing. Unlike Gunn, who was probably in the area, he would take the next hour to reach there. Plans formed in his mind, mostly bordering reconnaissance and other forms of gathering information. But the most important thought was making sure they didn’t take her body and turn her into a disturbed, unintelligible version of some sort of a demon.     The vehicle slid off the highway ramp and down a dusty roadway. Signs of technology faded away, giving way to old farm houses. He didn’t see indicators of the cult until he noticed an obvious sign of Gunn and Illyria already being here – Illyria standing seamlessly beside one of the buildings. His car halted with a screech, turned along the road, and he skidded to a stop right alongside Illyria. He almost jumped out of his seat, slammed the car door shut, and watched Gunn finally pop out of the building. He was dressed casually, but as per his new requirements, he had a bulletproof vest and various weapons on him. He slowly took in Angel’s hurried behaviour and produced shots. Pictures.     Angel grabbed them, and took a glance down at the disturbing pictures.     Cordelia in Mormon attire, sitting on a chair.   Cordelia kneeling infront of a cow.     Cordelia praying infront of a convoluted cross.     It was like someone else was inhabiting her body. Probably a demon. The hair, despite being tied up in a net, was the curly, shoulder length brown he knew she died in. He could see dough eyes, big and brown, looking at things from within the picture. The slender form, long legs and big smile that had once been a key to holding Angel Investigations through torment and loss were turned away from them and now a part of some cult.     But no, it wouldn’t happen. He would never allow it.     He allowed these pictures to be taken. Then he looked away, inhaled what he had learned. “I’ve got a plan,” he decided. “But we’re going to have to get close to the demon, get rid of it, and take her back.”     “You think they chose her on purpose?” Gunn asked.     “She’s a seer. Whoever’s in her body can probably see things coming. I don’t wanna risk it. The sooner the better. Illyria can pretend to be a corpse, We’ll dress like two of the Mormons.”     “This is a stupid idea, Angel…”     “… I’m in a rush.”     Within ten minutes, Illyria became a frazzled, brown haired Fred, and allowed herself to lay on the ground. Angel managed to don some sort of a Mormon outfit, but kept the hat low to keep from exposing himself to sun in case he had to step out. Gunn chose to wear a similar black ensemble. Gunn lifted Illyria, put her in a wheelbarrow, and they both turned and walked towards where Gunn said the cult primarily kept itself during its most intense ceremonies.     “How are we going to get the demon out?” Gunn asked, in a voice that really didn’t sound confident in his plans. Angel didn’t reply. He didn’t know how, not at this exact moment. This had happened to Cordelia before, and she hadn’t come back from it the same. “We’ll kidnap it and her body,” he decided, on the spot. “If they put a demon in there, I’m hoping it can’t tell who we are.”     Finally, they knocked on the front door of the building, larger than the others, and Gunn made sure he was behind Angel. The door opened, revealing a timid looking man in a similar outfit. “’ello, what can I do for ya’ll?” he asked. “We’ve got another girl, father,” Angel answered, trying to discern what the old man was. The man looked past him, at Gunn, then at Illyria. He squinted, and then seemed to acknowledge how innocent Fred looked. How innocent she was when the body had been Fred. The holes in their plan were being revealed quickly. “You can leave the black one outside, bring the girl in y’erself. High Priestess Cordelia will need to see her,” the old man explained.     High Priestess? What?   Angel took Illyria from Gunn, noting with discomfort how heavy Illyria felt. He turned back to the man, who permitted his entry. Gunn stood where he was, awkwardly.     Angel followed after him, and immediately saw just what the cult did. Satanic worship signs everywhere, real runes showing demonic possession and demonic ascension. While on the surface, it seemed like any other satanic cult, there was a key difference to it. Angel saw a female goddess at the center of this. A female Satan? He could read the runes more clearly as they walked along, with Illyria pretending to be dead and also occasionally opening her eyes to read the runes. “They look for a girl who is a seer, and tie her to them,” Illyria whispered, reading more of the runes. Angel was interested sure. But he didn’t know how he’d react to something that spelled disaster. “She is tied here by her memories being replaced, so the cult can have a seeress as a priestess,” Illyria continued. "But apparently, they find the real soul.. in order to make this priestess come to life." SHe may have continued, but they had to quieten down in order to see what came next.     They exited the corridor and approached a solitary room. Stairs lead downward in a separate direction.     Finally, a room emerged. Inside was a table, and a fancy, wooden chair. The chair was raised up like a throne, with a woman clad in the same black, drab attire seated there. It was the face looking at him that made Angel wish he had a heart to hammer in his chest. He was relieved he couldn’t perspire in stressful situations. But his hands became strained simply from gazing at her, taking in the lack of recognition in her eyes. But he could see this was no demon, if only because of the way her eyes mimicked every innocent, brown haired female in every 90’s chick flick that Angel had watched with her and Doyle in the early days of their work.     “This is the High Priestess, newly awakened from her long slumber. High Priestess Cordelia will judge whether or not this girl is fit to take the spirit of the Sataness,” the little man said. He turned to walk out, and Angel, feeling alone with the person he hadn’t seen or heard in years, took a step forward.     His voice dropped, husky, concerned. “Cordelia?” he asked, hesitantly. 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒐 Jul 28th 2019 - 10:35 PM Send Comment | Send Message | Block User SMy comment before the one in the messages: ����� Like a scene out of the scariest childs movie. Where the vampires crowd around you and try to suck your soul out. FBI agent of the past decade, one of the best military sharpshooters, and catcher of serial killers Seeley Booth had his entire life flashing before his eyes and his heartbeat racing in ways that it had never done before. This was exactly what Bones meant by finding something he couldn't handle. A case that he didn't want to crack - and he decided to do it with a harmless wannabe prom queen behind him for backup. A really flimsy one. ����� Cordelia decided risque was her style and stepped between him and the female vampire with the big lips and the hungry eyes, immediately bringing herself into the limelight. Seeley felt his collar get tighter and felt sweat on his forehead, the first signs of tension. But the FBI training he had and the overall military experience kept him from really showing his worry. A cool, calm facade remained even when several other bloodthirsty humanoid looking creatures surrounded them in slow paces, eyes set between him and Cordelia, the old-age eluding likely in her thirties human. Booth didn't want to imagine what would happen if they knew he had a heartbeat. Didn't Vamps have extra-active hearing as well? No time to find out. ����� The first thing he did do was grab her hand. Warm, alive, human hand and tugged on her wrist towards the exit. From the reactions the vampires gave, it was safe to deposit a fair amount of pressure on his acting. Angel the Vampire scared these guys - an FBI agent might not do such a good job. Although he was mostly defenseless right now, he did look around for something he could use as a weapon. Cordelia was way ahead (leave it to her, not giving him a real weapon), with a stake, and he realised wood was the key. Wood was pointy, sharp, and easily nullified vampires. The nearest dispensible wooden object was a pool stick, not sharp on one side. ����� Seeley decided it was his break. He reached out to grab it, and held it up threateningly. Without wasting a moment, and using considerably less strength than he thought, he snapped it into two, and held one half in his hand. The other he dropped to the ground and kicked aside, in case he'd need it any moment now. The sharp half was enough to stab through someone, if it came to that. But his other hand, enclosed around Cordelia's, kept her from stepping away. "I've got all day," he explained, loudly, to the vampires. "But you won't if you attack me. Stay out of my way." It was his best impersonation so far, and to make sure it was believable, thirty-something year old Seeley Booth, father of three children, tried his best to look like a bachelor from a bad CW television series. A brooding, husky vampire. But despite the sheer ridiculousness, he realized the less he spoke the better. He couldn't pull off being dead. Didn't want to. Bones needs me. Cordy needs me right now. Despite how ridiculous Booth was for liking a girl who looked younger than him, might have been dating his alter-ego, and might even dislike him, he felt it anyway. And liberating was a weak word. Booth could feel the irritating radiate off of him. He turned and started towards the door, pool stick at hand, and the crowd parted for him. Or for Angel. In Booth's now entirely topsy-turvy mind, he thought, maybe they just parted because Cordelia had her clothes done up to look more like a high-school Regina George from Mean Girls.. ����� It was a close call, and behind him, he heard them talking. There was things that a normal human being could pick up, and then there was the hearing capabilities of an FBI agent who spent time in Iraq, listening for the ticking sound of bombs. The voices of things that thought they were quiet, but really weren't. Just outside of the structure, Booth let go of Cordelia's hand and pressed his index finger to his mouth, holding it there for her to quiet down. He listened intently to their words, trying to descipher it out. He had to know. ����� "Angelus showing up outta nowhere? There's something we don't know here. And the doe-eyed brunette, I've seen her before too," a husky male voice continued. "In fact, I'd reckon seeing her looking the same years ago. It ain't adding up, boys." Besides the very misplaced accent, Booth also knew the doe-eyed girl had to be Cordelia. He didn't want her in trouble because of him. This was obviously way over her head. Bones was missing, he had a mostly harmless divorced-couple private detective wannabe working with him, and he was caught up in emotions. "You know how to get the best revenge on him, cut out those doe-eyes and bring them to McGuillicutty on a silver platter," one of them joked. His insides felt raw after hearing it, and he stepped away from the building. Looking finally back at Cordelia, he swallowed the lump in his throat, and took out the keys for his vehicle. The solid black four-wheeler beeped open, but Booth didn't really want to go. He wanted to go in there and burn the place up. It would be worth it. But it wasn't while she was there. ��� "Let's get out of here," he finally said. His voice was darker, quieter, and he didn't want her to hear the fear he had in his tone. "We're setting you on a first-class flight back to home. Out of my pocket," he added as an afterthought, even as he opened the door to the passenger side of the car, and looked away - at the ground, anywhere else. Guilt bubbled inside of him along with worry. She was at risk here. And it sounded like she was finally getting things in her life back in order, too. Once he knew she was safely inside, Booth walked to the back of his vehicle and opened the trunk. The back was full of some minor FBI-registered equipment. His standard bullet-proof vest, a gas-mask, some guns, and a handy bottle or two of beer just for the hell of it. He grabbed the vest, along with a gun, and walked around to the front of the vehicle. He dropped both items in her lap, and then turned his vehicle on. The four-wheeler churned to life, the soothing smell of a mini-Glade car airfreshener with lilac filled the air, but Booth's mood lowered more and more. ����� He didn't listen to her for the entire ride. Maybe she could tell. There was nothing but quiet this time, and contemplation. And brooding. The stress felt double. Like when Bones was caught by Zack, or when she was buried in the ground. The same tension, new girl. Old girl. He stopped the vehicle when they were at the hotel, parked it carefully. Zero damage on it, as per his driving record. He stepped out first, tried that fake, Booth-like smile. But it was hard. He heard and saw things now that made him worried. He knew that he had to do it alone. Without her. ����� He waited for her to exit the car, and the sight of the hotel, blaring, cheap lights, and the sound of people inside, left him with a sense of empty and irritated that he didn't think he had before now. He stepped towards her, knowing he was going way out of line now. Way beyond the territoty of an FBI agent and a younger-looking suspect. And standing infront of her, he waited to say his piece. ����� "You know why you have to go -- ����� It isn't because you aren't useful. But because you're too useful. It's because these days have been hard. Because the more I get to know you, the more I know Angel and I probably aren't that different. And now I've gotta protect you.." ����� If there were tears, he didn't notice. He had to spill it now so she would go. Disgusted, annoyed, or returning his feelings. This was going to happen. "I'm gonna get a buddy to get your tickets. And I'll find this guy," he decided. "Because - Hey, don't do that-" He knew she was looking away, was denying going. But this was final. ����� "Look--" ����� "Look at me - ������������ Hey - I love you. I'm falling in love with you. ������������������������������ And I can't do that right now. ������������� I want you to be safe. So that you can go and live a life. ������������������������������������������ This is for you, as much as it is for me." ����� deadmanwalking Jul 25th 2019 - 3:09 AM Send Comment | Send Message | Block User that's not why i need you.        Being stuck at the bottom of the ocean could do things to a man-- especially when it was your own son who put the anchor on. A kid who hated him for what he was… past and present, hating him just like Holtz had. Holtz had successfully taken one of the things he had to look forward to each day and stripped it from him-- while the other thing that meant just as much-- well, no one knew what happened to. Not Wesley. Not Connor. Not even Gunn or Fred who had been working non-stop around the clock in order to not only find him, but also Cordelia who had conveniently disappeared at the same time.          Angel to the bottom of the ocean and Cordelia…god knows where.     It drove Angel crazy not knowing-- it was months on months of barely any sleep, searching high and low-- for a clue, maybe someone who saw something-- heard something. The endless possibilities of what could have happened to Cordelia Chase muddled inside his brain almost every waking hour. Where was she-- who took her? And most importantly, why?     The gang still searched for the seer off and on, but the trail went cold and there wasn’t much to look for. Hope seemed lost-- even to Angel who had no choice but to go on without her. There was still a job to do and Cordelia wouldn’t want his world to stop because of her… but that didn’t mean he would ever stop looking. ----     “Yo-- Angel, open up!” Gunn’s voice reverberated past the mahogany wood door.     The vampire, who was seated with paper clippings scattered of missing reports around him, lifted his gaze from them and over to the door. His free time consisted of the usual, brooding and searching for any leads that could pick up her trail again. It wasn’t unusual that Fred and Gunn would try and get him out of this hole, they had been trying for the last month. With a sign, he pushed out of his seat and moved to the door and opens it, both Gunn and Fred pushing past him.     “Bro-- we gotta lead.”     “A lead on Cordelia,” he asks quickly, pushing the door closed and following the couple into the room. “What did you find.”     Gunn reaches into his pocket and pulls out and envelope-- the type for printed pictures. He opens it up and takes the photos out. “So my friend Jerry-- you know Jerry.” Angel nods, eyes glued to the pictures in his hands. “Well, Jerry was walkin’ his dog, past by Wolfram & Hart and guess who he saw?”    As soon as the photos are extended out to him, he takes one, eyes gazing over the photo carefully that showed a nice BMW parked right outside the law-firm, two people getting into the car--- the faces stopping him dead in his tracks. One was Lindsey, not the biggest surprise, but the other? If his heart could beat, it would have stopped. “Cordelia.”     “Yeah man, and look at these-- she doesn’t look like she’s havin’ a bad time.” Gunn hands him another picture where Cordelia is kissing Lindsey’s lips at the passenger-side door.      “Doesn’t mean she’s not---” He flips through the pictures again and again, trying to sift through his brains for answers. Wolfram & Hart was involved, there was no question about that, but how did he explain these pictures? This couldn’t be THEIR Cordelia… not in a million years. “Did Jerry get any more pictures-- did he follow them?”     Gunn shook his head. “Nah, he said he snapped the photos and dipped-- called me when he got home.”                   “So what do you think this is-- you think maybe they kidnapped Cordelia and brainwashed her.”      “Or that isn’t the real Cordelia and they’re purposely tryin’ to screw with us.... Again. Could be one of them I-Robots… saw an article on it-- sh*t’s real man.”     “No.” Angel answers, shaking his head as he pondered thoughtfully. What was their game? Why did Wolfram & Hart want Cordelia and why would they sit and dangle it right in front of Angel? They had gone over this once before-- she was off limits. His whole team was for that matter. However, it wasn’t unusual that the rules changed, Angel was accustomed to it, but the taunting? He thought they were past that. “I think Fred might be right-- I want more information, though. I wanna track down Lindsey-- get his latest address.”     Gunn and Fred both exchange glances before Fred nods. “Well, we actually got his address-- lives in a really nice penthouse on the northside.” She reaches into her pocket then retracts, pulling out a piece of paper that had an address scribbled on it.     He takes it and gazes at it before he slips it into his pocket, glancing at the clock and seeing that past sundown. “I’ll head over there now-- you guys hang back.”     “Uh-- do you think you should go tonight, I mean… not like you could get inside and we don’t even know if Cordy’s there,” Fred said, shyness still lingering in her voice-- she had grown comfortable with them all, but there was still that timid girl from Texas there. “Maybe Wolfram & Hart is setting us up.”     Angel shakes his head, mind obviously made up as he swings on his leather duster. “I don’t think so. Jerry seeing her was too random. If they’re expecting me to find out they have her, it wouldn’t be today. I don’t think they have their guard up yet.”    He’s almost half expecting a speech from Gunn about going in half-c*cked, but there’s only a nod from him. “Alright-- well, call if you need anything. You know I’m ready to throw down.” The Next Day   He saw her-- through large glass windows that surrounded the luxurious penthouse. Lindsey was a show-off, but this? This was something else. Bitterness rest on his tongue as he watched their night unfold. Cordelia had sat across from their enemy-- ate dinner with him… laughed with him. He came up behind her while she rinsed off the dishes and whispered something in her ear, things he wouldn’t dream of wanting to know, because it was taking every ounce of will that he had not to make any rash decisions.      The sight of him with her was ingrained in his head-- he couldn’t shove it out and spent most of the night stewing in the office. The night was spent more on imagining ways to kill Lindsey than actually formulating a plan which would have been helpful in a time like this. It seemed easier to act more irrational than go in without miscalculating a step. It wouldn’t be hard to catch them on the way home-- Take Lindsey out before rescuing Cordelia, but the matter of the fact was, did she even want to be saved? Could she?     It’s around noon when he finally sits up in the office chair, reaching for the phone and dialing Wolfram & Hart’s front desk-- this was the worst plan yet and could reveal him being a step ahead too soon, but he took the chance anyway.                     “Wolfram & Hart. Angela speaking.”      “Hi, Angela,” Angel greets, accent laced with a tint of southern. “My name’s Dwayne Wallace from Maxfield’s boutique. I was told to call this number and ask for a Cordelia Chase. She recently got fitted for a few dresses and they’re ready for her. Is she in today?”                      “I believe she is, let me transfer you Mr. Wallace.”       The other end cut out to some random jazz tune, Angel leaning forward in his seat so elbows could rest on the oak desk. It was too long of a pause for his own liking-- thinking he may have blown it all. But then her voice came on the other end of the line and he swallowed hard.                                “Cordelia…”   credit 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒐 Jun 24th 2017 - 1:30 AM Send Comment | Send Message | Block User You've been missed. ♥ 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒐 Jun 24th 2017 - 1:19 AM Send Comment | Send Message | Block User ����� They say it's physically impossible for the breaking of a heart to make a physical sound; but Seeley Booth could beg to differ. He was staring at heartbreak straight in her big, doe eyes. "I.. you need me" was all that Cordelia Chase had to say to him. Silence plunged over Seeley like the drought that came over Afghanistan that one week he and his buddy were alone in a village. It was the worst sort of quiet. It was like his heart cracked in two. He felt her hand in his, warm and alive like his was, but inside he just saw the same rejection that plagued him for weeks after Bones asked for the divorce. It was like he couldn't explain it. ����� "Oh," was his first few words to her desperate gaze. Sure, he could read expressions. This was what his training was for. He should have read into how she looked at him. But his mind was blank for a second. After these intense couple of days, the adventure, and his confession. He thought he'd won the girl. But he overplayed his cards and forgot that she was in love with someone else. Who didn't exist anymore. ����� He dropped his hand away from hers, almost dumbly. You're stupid for expecting any better, his conscience told him. She probably wishes you were dead. ����� After he had a second to just regather himself, to put behind the aching part of him that realised the girl of his possible dreams just rejected him, Booth put two and two together. Better to make her go now. It was better for him to go find Bones without Cordy to make his life more difficult. With the chill in the air amplifying everything, rain battering down, and his cars lights flickering on and off like he'd forgotten to go for servicing again (which he had), he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. The first thing he tugged out was his shining, CHASE bank mastercard, embellished with the name SEELEY BOOTH and some numbers. He reached for her hand, clumsy, bigger, quicker, and dropped the card into it. You look as good as the day I met you, I forget just why I left you. Was I insane? ����� Every cop bone in his body told him that letting her go like this was the same as letting anyone go. Booth had a long list of women he lost, and he could add one more to the list. He made sure she knew it was his credit card, then pocketed his wallet. "I'll cancel it in a week," he added. The way she looked, the way she knew how to play with feelings. Seeley missed the obvious signs. This wasn't going to work. Cordelia was one of those girls who broke hearts. Falling for the guy who highjacked her ex's body in some way wasn't the normal deal for a girl like this. ����� His throat tightened, and when he took his step back from her, it almost felt like some line between his heart and his neck and every part of him attached to her severed. He resisted the urge to lift his hand and wipe his sleeve. Stay and play that Blink 182 song. That we beat to death in Tucson, okay. ����� Things no longer made sense. The world was hard and Booth wanted to go lay down and call his kids. The more he thought about Cordelia, the more memories he doubted were even his came rushing back. He could have turned around and walked away, but the abrupt sound of something hitting his vehicle made him stop in his tracks. The heartbroken atmosphere faded, the sound of his truck blaring filled the quiet air. Booth walked to the door, holding his hand out for her to stay away. Gun out, free hand fisted, and the door burst open. ����� No bombs, no projectiles. Just a strange note plastered to a rock. He had medical gloves in the glove box out of habit. Plucking a pair out, he lifted the rock like medical evidence, partly kicking to the strenouous habits that Bones instilled in him, and held it up. He stepped away from the vehicle, and read it. Turn the seer into a vampire. & we'll let your woman go. ����� He dropped the rock like poison, and his gaze fell back on Cordelia, who he wanted out of his life more than anything just a second ago. He didn't know what to do. "That sicko.. is making me choose between Bones and.." he started, voice drifting off. When he looked back at how she was, and compared her to cold, precise, but warm and familiar Bones, Seeley had no idea what to do. Instead, he took a few steps back and leaned against the trunk of his black truck. ����� The rain stopped, and the atmosphere of heartbreak from just a second ago was replaced with anxiety. Sure, he could find a vampire to change Cordelia.. But did he want to do it? ����� "F***," he cursed. "I guess you really can't leave yet." Into the Night May 4th 2017 - 9:57 AM Send Comment | Send Message | Block User Ms. Chase,� A stranger emerges from the gloom and takes a seat on the park bench next to you.� Concealed by a black-cowled robe made of rough cloth, you cannot see the face.� You know neither the gender nor the age of this person, or if it is a person at all.� Visions of Rumpelstiltskin trolling for first borns, skeletal wraiths in search of warm bodies to possess, and Death himself intent on collecting his quota of souls on this moonless night metastasize in sinister profusion across the turbulent and dark waters of your mind.� You arise and take a step away, back towards the safety of the light, but not before the thing clamps a cold and bony hand around your wrist.� That cowled head swivels menacingly your way and locks its gaze with yours.� Its eyes are as cold and dark and dead as the muzzles of a pair of pistols.� A scream congeals in your throat as disbelief forestalls and then extinguishes a desperate compulsion to flee, for those eyes are hauntingly familiar, and strangely calming, numbing you into quiet resignation.� The vice-like grip releases your wrist only to take your hand, gently but firmly, like a lover.� You and the Beast arise - recognition of its true nature is crystal clear now - and you passively and willingly let it lead you into the cloying darkness of the night.� As the inky blackness envelopes the both of you, the Beast speaks softly and reassuringly in a velvety, low voice, "You're finally home�"� You have befriended Into the Night Role Playing Community, but you are not yet formally a member.� We are quite different than most RPC/RPGs.� Our primary focus is multi-character blog stories rather than one-on-one role play, although members are certainly free to engage in one-on-one stories to their heart's delight. But our blog stories, of which we have several, are only open to members. So. Are you ready to take the next step?� We are a tidy group of curiously creative role players in search of like minds with extraordinary writing skills and unparalleled creativity.� We seek role players who can play along in multi-character blog stories. Traditionally we have created stories in the Buffy, Angel, Supernatural, and True Blood genres; however, we have recently opened the RPC up to any genre/verse (we've even have a Xenaverse story!)� If you've never collaborated with a group of writers on a story, you need to try it - it's the ultimate in role playing. But be forewarned, our stories will take you to distant shores and strange lands beyond your dreams.� And once you make landfall, my literate friend, there's no turning back.�� Unlike most RPGs, Into the Night has a long and successful track record.� We were an RPC (or RPG) before that acronym came into use, going back to early 2009 and the long lost, but not forgotten, storied pages of MySpace.� I know a lot of you out there do not much like RPGs, which frankly, are often run like Nazi concentration camps, with regular activity checks, restrictions on how your profile is set up, who you can or cannot date, mandatory levels of participation, etc. etc. ad nauseam.� We have none of that.� And, friend, we know how real life can consume you at times.� If you need some time off, just let us know and we'll write around you until you return.� That said, we only accept intellectually and emotionally mature people who can write well and collaborate with others to create stories we would all enjoy reading, even if we hadn't participated in them. It goes without saying that we have zero tolerance for drama, but we also expect folks who join the group and enter into a story to stick with that story until the (often, but not always) bitter end.� Got it, compadre?� We need commitment as well as awesome ability.� If any of this sounds at all intriguing, then stroll through our current roster of blog stories, and we further invite you to cruise our archive of completed stories, as well (see the links on our "Details" page: https://www.roleplayer.me/view_blog.php?id=0000137096). So here's the bottom line, oh literate one.� We're looking for a few good role players to further animate our blog stories, INCLUDING Cordelia Chase. If this still sounds intriguing, then maybe you and Into the Night are a match.� Audition.� Why the hell not?�� What have you got to lose�?�� Just take the Beast by the hand. 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒐 Apr 28th 2017 - 9:35 PM Send Comment | Send Message | Block User ����� Like a scene out of the scariest childs movie. Where the vampires crowd around you and try to suck your soul out. FBI agent of the past decade, one of the best military sharpshooters, and catcher of serial killers Seeley Booth had his entire life flashing before his eyes and his heartbeat racing in ways that it had never done before. This was exactly what Bones meant by finding something he couldn't handle. A case that he didn't want to crack - and he decided to do it with a harmless wannabe prom queen behind him for backup. A really flimsy one. ����� Cordelia decided risque was her style and stepped between him and the female vampire with the big lips and the hungry eyes, immediately bringing herself into the limelight. Seeley felt his collar get tighter and felt sweat on his forehead, the first signs of tension. But the FBI training he had and the overall military experience kept him from really showing his worry. A cool, calm facade remained even when several other bloodthirsty humanoid looking creatures surrounded them in slow paces, eyes set between him and Cordelia, the old-age eluding likely in her thirties human. Booth didn't want to imagine what would happen if they knew he had a heartbeat. Didn't Vamps have extra-active hearing as well? No time to find out. ����� The first thing he did do was grab her hand. Warm, alive, human hand and tugged on her wrist towards the exit. From the reactions the vampires gave, it was safe to deposit a fair amount of pressure on his acting. Angel the Vampire scared these guys - an FBI agent might not do such a good job. Although he was mostly defenseless right now, he did look around for something he could use as a weapon. Cordelia was way ahead (leave it to her, not giving him a real weapon), with a stake, and he realised wood was the key. Wood was pointy, sharp, and easily nullified vampires. The nearest dispensible wooden object was a pool stick, not sharp on one side. ����� Seeley decided it was his break. He reached out to grab it, and held it up threateningly. Without wasting a moment, and using considerably less strength than he thought, he snapped it into two, and held one half in his hand. The other he dropped to the ground and kicked aside, in case he'd need it any moment now. The sharp half was enough to stab through someone, if it came to that. But his other hand, enclosed around Cordelia's, kept her from stepping away. "I've got all day," he explained, loudly, to the vampires. "But you won't if you attack me. Stay out of my way." It was his best impersonation so far, and to make sure it was believable, thirty-something year old Seeley Booth, father of three children, tried his best to look like a bachelor from a bad CW television series. A brooding, husky vampire. But despite the sheer ridiculousness, he realized the less he spoke the better. He couldn't pull off being dead. Didn't want to. Bones needs me. Cordy needs me right now. Despite how ridiculous Booth was for liking a girl who looked younger than him, might have been dating his alter-ego, and might even dislike him, he felt it anyway. And liberating was a weak word. Booth could feel the irritating radiate off of him. He turned and started towards the door, pool stick at hand, and the crowd parted for him. Or for Angel. In Booth's now entirely topsy-turvy mind, he thought, maybe they just parted because Cordelia had her clothes done up to look more like a high-school Regina George from Mean Girls.. ����� It was a close call, and behind him, he heard them talking. There was things that a normal human being could pick up, and then there was the hearing capabilities of an FBI agent who spent time in Iraq, listening for the ticking sound of bombs. The voices of things that thought they were quiet, but really weren't. Just outside of the structure, Booth let go of Cordelia's hand and pressed his index finger to his mouth, holding it there for her to quiet down. He listened intently to their words, trying to descipher it out. He had to know. ����� "Angelus showing up outta nowhere? There's something we don't know here. And the doe-eyed brunette, I've seen her before too," a husky male voice continued. "In fact, I'd reckon seeing her looking the same years ago. It ain't adding up, boys." Besides the very misplaced accent, Booth also knew the doe-eyed girl had to be Cordelia. He didn't want her in trouble because of him. This was obviously way over her head. Bones was missing, he had a mostly harmless divorced-couple private detective wannabe working with him, and he was caught up in emotions. "You know how to get the best revenge on him, cut out those doe-eyes and bring them to McGuillicutty on a silver platter," one of them joked. His insides felt raw after hearing it, and he stepped away from the building. Looking finally back at Cordelia, he swallowed the lump in his throat, and took out the keys for his vehicle. The solid black four-wheeler beeped open, but Booth didn't really want to go. He wanted to go in there and burn the place up. It would be worth it. But it wasn't while she was there. ��� "Let's get out of here," he finally said. His voice was darker, quieter, and he didn't want her to hear the fear he had in his tone. "We're setting you on a first-class flight back to home. Out of my pocket," he added as an afterthought, even as he opened the door to the passenger side of the car, and looked away - at the ground, anywhere else. Guilt bubbled inside of him along with worry. She was at risk here. And it sounded like she was finally getting things in her life back in order, too. Once he knew she was safely inside, Booth walked to the back of his vehicle and opened the trunk. The back was full of some minor FBI-registered equipment. His standard bullet-proof vest, a gas-mask, some guns, and a handy bottle or two of beer just for the hell of it. He grabbed the vest, along with a gun, and walked around to the front of the vehicle. He dropped both items in her lap, and then turned his vehicle on. The four-wheeler churned to life, the soothing smell of a mini-Glade car airfreshener with lilac filled the air, but Booth's mood lowered more and more. ����� He didn't listen to her for the entire ride. Maybe she could tell. There was nothing but quiet this time, and contemplation. And brooding. The stress felt double. Like when Bones was caught by Zack, or when she was buried in the ground. The same tension, new girl. Old girl. He stopped the vehicle when they were at the hotel, parked it carefully. Zero damage on it, as per his driving record. He stepped out first, tried that fake, Booth-like smile. But it was hard. He heard and saw things now that made him worried. He knew that he had to do it alone. Without her. ����� He waited for her to exit the car, and the sight of the hotel, blaring, cheap lights, and the sound of people inside, left him with a sense of empty and irritated that he didn't think he had before now. He stepped towards her, knowing he was going way out of line now. Way beyond the territoty of an FBI agent and a younger-looking suspect. And standing infront of her, he waited to say his piece. ����� "You know why you have to go -- ����� It isn't because you aren't useful. But because you're too useful. It's because these days have been hard. Because the more I get to know you, the more I know Angel and I probably aren't that different. And now I've gotta protect you.." ����� If there were tears, he didn't notice. He had to spill it now so she would go. Disgusted, annoyed, or returning his feelings. This was going to happen. "I'm gonna get a buddy to get your tickets. And I'll find this guy," he decided. "Because - Hey, don't do that-" He knew she was looking away, was denying going. But this was final. ����� "Look--" ����� "Look at me - ������������ Hey - I love you. I'm falling in love with you. ������������������������������ And I can't do that right now. ������������� I want you to be safe. So that you can go and live a life. ������������������������������������������ This is for you, as much as it is for me." ����� 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒐 Sep 2nd 2016 - 12:03 PM Send Comment | Send Message | Block User ANGEL THE VAMPIRE BOOTH & CORDELIA"So you're saying that love is foolish and illogical?" " No. It's - it's thinking of someone before yourself. It's giving your life, if necessary, to that person. It's - it's, uh, love." - Seeley to Brennan, S6E2. ������� In the time that it took Booth to look from Cordelia, who was still in his arms, to the sky, it also took him a lifetime to set aside things he had set in stone throughout his life. That he loved Bones. That he believed the world was black and white. That there was no such thing as magic. That love wasn't strong enough to transcend entire lives. It was all negative now, and this girl in his arms was proving it by making him regret his entire life for her. Cordelia Chase was the girl, the one, and he was hers in another life. When he had no heartbeat but still felt hers. ������� He felt her try to comfort him with words that were probably gibberish, but it reminded him of what he did for Brennan once upon a time. Except this time he was crossing into new, unfound territory, and he was going with a girl who was probably more vulnerable than he was. He felt her step away, breaking off the hug, and felt oddly empty while she did it. His fingers itched to pull her back, but that might have been considered forced or unwanted. Now, Booth knew that even though he felt like he liked her, she was probably waiting for Angel. He saw it in her actions, too. Cordelia and Angel, huh? ������� He pulled himself together for her sake, by first looking past her at the building, then back at her. She loosened her top, trying to give off that classy 90's sex appeal that probably would work elsewhere. But Booth thought about horror movies and vampires biting people, and it only made him pull his shirt on tighter. "Are you sure it's convincing for you to go with me?" he asked, and swallowed. Innocent, private detective turned glorified vampire hunter going in with a federal agent wasn't a good team when it came to supernatural things, he thought. This was the mission that might actually kill him. Inevitable death for him, pretty much. "Thanks, Cordelia," hebegan. He nervously rushed a finger to spike his hair up, and then started walking into the bar. �������� Always a step slower so Cordelia was near him. He had a gun hidden in his socks, an old habit he never dropped, and then he saw them all. Carnal, disgusting people with no eyebrows - vampires - staring at him with the biggest yellow eyes. They looked like a mix of panthers and wolves. They weren't human at all. Booth had to double take when he realised these were vampires, and he wasn't dreaming. �������� "We're not in Kansas anymore, Toto," he mumbled to himself. When he was in the center of the bar, he looked around for anyone relevant. His eyes dropped to Cordelia. "So, which one of them would exactly, know where Magelicutty is?" he whispered to her, leaning down so no one else could hear. Did these guys have super hearing too? From the corner of his eye, one approached. Fangs, claws, and wild hair included. He reflexively readied himself by cracking his right hand's knuckles. Standing straight, he eyed the one approaching. Brooding, dark, moody, like Batman. Booth, a father of three, was about to take on vampires who mistook him for someone he wasn't anymore. �������� "There's a face we haven't seen in a decade," the vampire, obviously a woman with a masculine build, said. She almost hissed on the s in seen. Booth didn't show nervous signs, his adrenaline kicked in, and he remembered all of his FBI training ever, to keep from showing that he was uncomfortable now. "I'm looking for someone," he announced. He kept his expression neutral, and subconsciously stepped between Cordelia and the approaching vampire woman. "I'm looking for a Magelicutty, and if you can tell me where he is, we won't have a problem." Like somebody else was doing the talking, in his voice. Booth found himself step towards the vampire woman, and he felt a jolt of wild electricity. She sniffed the air. Booth's blood went cold when he realised she might sniff him out as human. ���������� But then he realised there was one other human here too. Cordelia smelled human as well, and she was right beside him. He could get away with this as long as he was beside her. She could protect him, but could he protect her? ��������� "We don't want trouble," another vampire butt in. "Magelicutty's been out of hand. He's around Los Angeles City. You ain't gonna find him here, Angelus. But what's bothering me is how you're showing your ugly face around these parts after a decade.." ��������� This question actually bothered him. He couldn't say he's been an FBI agent for years, and has no recollection of his past. What he did remember didn't suffice. He remembered blondes, a son, he remembered Cordelia Chase. He knew it wasn't sufficient. He immediately looked back at the door, then at Cordelia, and flickered his wrist inward to show it was time to go. They couldn't risk themselves anymore. This was turning bad. One vampire barred the door suddenly, and the one that asked him where he'd been for a decade stepped out of the light. A burly vampire, with the meanest face he had ever seen. And he was grinning at Cordelia. ����������� "Just a minute there, Angelus. Who's the pretty girl?" the vampire asked. Booth grabbed Cordelia's arm, and stepped very close to her. His own heartbeat sped like crazy. "I think we have a problem," he said, to her. "An ugly one." THE HERO /954501 Add Comment