|
|
Post by faith on Jun 1, 2011 11:56:42 GMT -6
----------------------------------------- -----------------------------------------This town is such a drag, there was very few places to just wind down and relax after a good night of slayage. I mean even Sunnydale had more cool spots...well when it wasn't a giant crater in the ground where the Hellmouth once was. The brunnete woman walked down the dark road, hands in her pockets as she stepped. She was dressed in the usual, tank top with dark jeans and her jacket over it...good place to carry stakes of course.
When she came across a couple wandering down an ally, she stopped and watched. 'Probably a vamp, bout time I've been itching for a little fun,' she thought to herself as she quietly followed them. She watched as they made out, rather sloppily from her view. Of course after a few minutes she saw no vamping out...causing her to get frustrated. "Damn, was so hoping to get some vamp action tonight," she muttered to herself as she walked back away from the stupid couple.
With a huff she walked towards the local Quick Trip for some midnight snacks. She had a habit of eating after slaying, kind of like getting the munchies after a party with her friend Mary Jane. Of course she didn't really touch the stuff anymore, not since she was in high school. The slayer kept vigilant, just waiting for some vamp to spring up on her so she could get a good dusting in...she didn't want to grow rusty after all...and nothing beat the thrill of killing a vamp. ----------------------------------------- |
|
|
|
Post by Chuck Michael Shurley on Jun 5, 2011 23:11:52 GMT -6
-------------------------------- xx xx The fuel to write
[/size][/font] To burn, to stay alive[/size] To stand and wait[/size][/font] It takes fuel to light the tiniest star, and fuel to start a fire[/size][/font] ---------------------------------[/center] Chuck Shurley had moved into this new town, Mystic Falls, after he had finished the Supernatural stories about Sam and Dean Winchester. He liked it here, it was peaceful and something just told him go, come here. This place was different. He had hoped that Becky would show up sooner or later. He told her that he was moving but he hadn’t gotten a response back yet, actually moving here before telling her. He had feelings for her, and he admitted it to her after the convention for his Supernatural books.
Chuck continued to walk down the road and stopped at a place called Quick Trip. They had snacks and things inside and Chuck could use some food. He opened the door and slid inside. His attire was completely the same, the jeans with a black t-shirt and a jacket over it. He looked around the store and moved over to the whiskies and picked up a bottle. He didn’t really care which one it was, just as long as he had some so that it would help with the migraines from his visions.
Chuck then moved over to the snacks and picked up a few candy bars and decided that was enough. He continued to walk through when he accidentally bumped into a young woman with long brunette hair. He stumbled back a little and he looked at her with widened eyes.
“I am so sorry.” Chuck simply said, with a very apologetic face. He looked down at the floor and felt so stupid from not knowing that she was right there and that he had run into her.
WORDS 270
TAGGED Faith
NOTES none
LYRICS Fuel :: Marit Larsen
[/blockquote] |
|
|
|
Post by faith on Jun 6, 2011 21:01:43 GMT -6
----------------------------------------- -----------------------------------------Faith natural reaction seemed to start to kick in...which would be slam the man up to the wall...but she stopped herself upon looking at him. He didn't feel all vampireish...she and B had been doing this long enough that most of the time they could just tell if someone was a vampire. I mean at first there were subtle clues...dress...speech...but after a while the...Slayer Instinct? Wicked name for it, she should start using it more often...but that thing really kicked in after long enough training and honing skills.
The slayer looked at the man, taller than she was as most men are. He looked kind of...pathetic? Kind of like that pathetic vibe she'd gotten off of Xander before they'd hooked up...something she'd never failed to remind Anya of when she used to talk about her and Xander's sex life when they were battling the First.
"Naw, its cool. Five by five," she said, using her...catchphrase? Well most used phrase to mean she was cool and everything was good in the world...in a way of course. There were always vampires and always that kind of stuff in the world. By this time she had a bag in her hand...Flaming Hot Cheetos and some milk... something every good vampire slayer had after a nice brutal slaying. Of course that didn't stop her from looking at him...he was kinda cute...in that nerdy drunk kind of way. He kind of smelled like booze too...but hey she'd done worse...though she was a little off her rocker then. That was all in the past though, and she had moved on. ----------------------------------------- |
|
|
|
Post by Chuck Michael Shurley on Jun 6, 2011 21:32:12 GMT -6
--------------------------------xxxxThe fuel to write
[/size][/font] To burn, to stay alive[/size] To stand and wait[/size][/font] It takes fuel to light the tiniest star, and fuel to start a fire[/size][/font] ---------------------------------[/center] Chuck Shurley just stared at her, paranoia just over threw him. He didn’t mean to run into her, it just happened. She just came out of nowhere, and he wasn’t looking where he was going. He had hoped that she wouldn’t get angry at him, yell at him for running into her. He had apologized, so all should be good right? He held the candy bars and whisky in his hand and decided that he should just pay and leave, he had already done enough by running into her.
Chuck looked up at her and as she looked at him. She then said everything was cool, or so he thought she meant it like that. He smiled in his weird, awkward way. “sorry? Five by five?” Chuck asked her curiously, not knowing what it meant. He watched her pick up some flaming hot cheetos and some milk. He thought that was a weird combination but he shouldn’t be talking. The whisky and candy bars was a little off too. Chuck still stood there in the awkward silence. The store wasn’t very busy, it was just him, this woman and a few other people. It was better than being very busy.
He watched some of the people, keeping an eye out for anything unusual. He had been helping the Winchesters and knew that demons or angels would be watching him, following him. The man looked back at the young woman and he then asked her curiously “Do you live here in town?” Chuck wondered if this was as quiet as he thought it was. Things are always different than it seems.
“I’m Chuck.” Chuck then said, introducing himself wondering if that was a good thing to do or not.
WORDS 288
TAGGED Faith
NOTES none
LYRICS Fuel :: Marit Larsen
[/blockquote] |
|
|
|
Post by faith on Jun 9, 2011 23:01:51 GMT -6
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------Faith nodded at him as he repeated her phrase 'Five by Five'. "Yeah, five by five...just means its okay," she said explaining it to him. She really wasn't that use to having to explain it...though most of the people she talked to were used to hearing her say that and understood its meaning from her use of it...quite often actually lately. She looked down at the drunk...or so she assumed with his bag of whiskey and candy bars...though she was kind of impressed. Whiskey meant he wasn't a pussy with his drinking...and that was something she respected in a way.
The store was not very busy...which was nice in a way. She didn't have to move while talking to the guy...if this place was busy it would be noisy and with people in and out of the store they probably couldn't hide anywhere to talk...or have sex. Hey she'd been without driving stick shift for a while now with good old Principle Wood not in town as he was back at the training camp in Italy with Giles and the rest of the Scoobies...to her knowledge at least.
He asked if she lived in town. "Just hanging around here for a little while...kinda passing through really, this town kinda blows you know...really boring and not a lot of action here," she said truthfully...in more ways than one. She hadn't had much vamp action or...well the other kind of action she was fond of in a while now. Heck she'd even settle for someone like him...though that was unlikely to happen.
He then introduced himself...chuck...she couldn't help but snort a little accidentally at his name. It was such a butch name and look at him...kind of scrawny looking...not really that tall...and kind of a nerdy drunk vibe going on around him. The brunette looked at him,"I'm Faith." ----------------------------------------- |
|
|
|
Post by Chuck Michael Shurley on Jun 10, 2011 0:32:51 GMT -6
--------------------------------xxxxThe fuel to write
[/size][/font] To burn, to stay alive[/size] To stand and wait[/size][/font] It takes fuel to light the tiniest star, and fuel to start a fire[/size][/font] ---------------------------------[/center] Chuck had looked at the young woman and nodded as he understood what five by five meant. That was a weird thing to say when it means that something is okay, but Chuck wasn’t going to judge. “Oh, I gotcha.” He wasn’t that kind of guy. The brunette man had continued to wait to buy his whisky. He looked from the counter to the woman again and she seemed to be hardcore, as in tough, something Chuck really wasn’t. he watched her look at what he was buying and wondered what she thought of him. The prophet let out a sigh and he felt bad she had to see him like this. He really wasn’t a drunk, he just needed it to escape the headaches.
Chuck looked from the ground back to her again. He listened to her talk about the town and he sort of agreed with her, but he liked the place. It seemed to be the place he could use as his escape, a place where he could come and not be bothered. “in a way, yes. But I like it that way.” Chuck had said to her, truthfully.”So where are you from, if you don’t mind me asking.” Chuck asked, timidly. He didn’t know if that was the right thing to ask. He knew that he was never the social butterfly, so to speak, even in his childhood.
“I like that name, Faith.” Chuck said mostly to himself. He never really heard that name being used before, only several times, but it fit the girl. She looked like a Faith.
WORDS 262
TAGGED Faith
NOTES none
LYRICS Fuel :: Marit Larsen
[/blockquote] |
|
|
|
Post by faith on Jun 11, 2011 12:36:24 GMT -6
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------Faith rose a brow as he said he liked the town to be boring. I suppose on some level she could understand...a kind of escape from the day to day where you could just be alone...kind of like prison was for her...a solitary place (well mostly since the women there figured out quickly that they should leave her alone) where she could come to terms with her past crimes.
Where was she from? Oh that was an easy one actually...I mean its not like someone could find her parents and kill them because she told him where she grew up...because they were both well...dead or in jail serving life right now. "I was born in South Boston..." she said, "But I've been traveling a lot since I got outta prison." Of course what she didn't say was she got outta prison by...well breaking out and not serving her sentence to its full.
The woman looked as the line moved ahead. The person at the counter seemed to be a little angry or pissy...and doing the work pretty slowly actually. It was kind of annoying if she said so herself. "What about you?" she asked, it was only fair after all she had said. Actually it felt nice to talk like this...to be able to be open with someone who was a complete stranger...in a way at least.
He complimented her on her name. Well...her first instinct kicked in of course...he was trying to get into her pants. She'd had this little 'instinct' for quite some time now...growing up where she did with the family she had made her aware of these kinds of things. Of course he reminded her of Xander...at least now minus the eye patch and plus the drinking. Good times...well the time they'd actually done it that is...not the time she tried to strangle him. ----------------------------------------- |
|
|
|
Post by Chuck Michael Shurley on Jun 13, 2011 23:26:25 GMT -6
--------------------------------xxxxThe fuel to write
[/size][/font] To burn, to stay alive[/size] To stand and wait[/size][/font] It takes fuel to light the tiniest star, and fuel to start a fire[/size][/font] ---------------------------------[/center] Chuck Shurley let out a sigh as he looked at the man at the counter who looked like he could care less about being here, about working. He looked like he wasn’t doing anything to help the person in front of the counter, purchasing food. He wished he could do something about it, but he couldn’t start anything like that. It wouldn’t be right to draw attention to himself like he had with Faith in front of him. He wondered what she thought of him. She probably thought he was a nerd, or a sap.
Chuck looked at her when she said she was born in South Boston. He had always wanted to go to Boston, hearing that it was pretty. Something rang in his mind when she said she got out of prison. “What were you in prison for? If you don’t mind me asking.” Chuck asked her, more curious then afraid, although, fear did linger. It always did with Chuck. He was phobic over everything, every tiny little thing.
“Kripke’s Hallow. that’s where I grew up and lived, well until now. It was kind of like this place, but a bit bigger.” Chuck said to her. He missed the place a little but it was time for a change after he finished the rest of the Supernatural series that he didn’t publish, as he promised the Winchesters, but part of him said publish them. He would find Dean later and ask, explain to him this feeling he had. Chuck liked how it ended, how the apocalypse was stopped, how the Winchesters succeeded the way they did. That wasn’t meant to be as he kept seeing in his visions. He thought the world was really going to end like how it was told.
WORDS 294
TAGGED Faith
NOTES none
LYRICS Fuel :: Marit Larsen
[/blockquote] |
|
|
|
Post by faith on Jun 14, 2011 22:24:54 GMT -6
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------The man at the counter...if it really was a man of course...seemed bored and slow moving. Hey she'd seen some manly looking women back in prison...but from their view the most likely option was male. The woman pushed up her stuff a little to keep them from falling out of her arms...more because of awkward positioning than anything else.
Faith looked at Chuck as he asked why she had been in prison...she thought she felt the slightest whiff of fear...then again that was probably just her imagination. Then again by the look of him he'd probably shit his pants when she told him the truth...then again why would she tell him the truth? He was a stranger after all...what if he researched it...found out she was a wanted fugitive...not a good thing.
Harmless lying would be good...then again she could just be exaggerating what could happen...and even so she could just hop a plane back to Rome to get away from the feds...lord knows she could get away from them with her Slayer abilities. She took a small chance, with this small town why not. "Murder 2," she said as the person in front of them was being 'helped'.
He said he was from some place she had never heard of. "Where's that?" she asked...like...a state...a city near it some people might know...something like that. The brunette had really only been in Boston for so long before 'moving' to Sunnydale...then came the trip to L.A. followed by the stay at the Northern California Women’s Facility...and then back to L.A. to save Angel before fighting the First in Sunnydale. Well...she had a busy year since busting out of prison...quite easily actually...though that was because of the Slayer abilities more than anything else. ----------------------------------------- |
|
|
|
Post by Chuck Michael Shurley on Jun 18, 2011 12:26:19 GMT -6
--------------------------------xxxxThe fuel to write
[/size][/font] To burn, to stay alive[/size] To stand and wait[/size][/font] It takes fuel to light the tiniest star, and fuel to start a fire[/size][/font] ---------------------------------[/center] Chuck just really wanted to open the bottle of whisky right now and pour it down his throat. He didn’t care if he was standing here, waiting in line. He was going to buy it anyway. Chuck was so tempted just to do it but he figured that would be stealing. He just stared at it, then felt the need to hit his head against the counter. At least he wouldn’t be focused on the pain in his brain and would be focused on the pain in his forehead. His head hurt and he let out a sigh. “Screw it." he said not caring anymore. Chuck rested the candy bars under his arm and opened the bottle of whisky. He pulled his wallet out first, to show that he was going to pay for it. Chuck downed some of it, knowing it was illegal to have the bottle opened in public but the headaches were too much for him now and it wasn’t like he was going to get drunk. That took a lot.
Chuck covered the bottle and he still held it. There was still a little more than half left. The pain was more tolerable now. He looked at Faith and hoped that she didn’t find him strange or something. That was the last thing he was. Chuck looked at her oddly when she said murder 2. He didn’t mind, he had seen and met stranger people, and the Winchesters were classified in that group.
“oh just a small town, doesn’t matter.” Chuck replied to her, not really wanting to think about it right now.
The man at the counter finished checking out the person in front of them and was giving Chuck a dirty look since Chuck had opened the whisky with out paying. He wanted to say something, he wanted to just tell the guy at the counter off, but didn’t have the guts to do so.
WORDS 321
TAGGED Faith
NOTES sorry my posting got a little slower.
LYRICS Fuel :: Marit Larsen
[/blockquote] |
|
|
|
Post by faith on Jun 24, 2011 17:59:45 GMT -6
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------Faith watched as he went and drank the alcohol he had under his arm. She had to give him props for guts though...he was doing something technically illegal but who'd tell...she certainly wouldn't and the cashier probably wouldn't as long as he paid for it. The woman looked at Chuck,"Alcoholic?" she said...though she didn't mean to out loud.
She just had this problem some time of blurting things out without thinking...something she hadn't cared about the outcome of when she was...well mentally unwell. Of course most of that time she used her fists to talk so much more than anything else. Oh the good old days when she was insane and self destructive...when she hated herself so much she'd used a body switching instrument and pretended to be Buffy only to later try to kill her own body just out of that self hatred...beating her body in the church.
The Slayer looked at him as he said something about it just being a small town. "True, guess it really don't matter in the long run,"she said. It was true...she was one of the last people who had the right to judge after all she had done in her past. How she had tried to kill Buffy...tried to take away Angel's soul...tried to kill him...tried to get him to kill her and so much more that was just awful. She looked at the person behind the counter for just a second, the one who was shooting Chuck a dirty look. She gave a head nod of sorts, giving a small snort as she ignored him. People who judged others annoyed her...mostly because they judged her so harshly for all the crimes she's done in the past. "So what do you do?" she asked, trying to keep the conversation going. ----------------------------------------- |
|
|
|
Post by Chuck Michael Shurley on Jun 28, 2011 0:31:23 GMT -6
--------------------------------xxxxThe fuel to write
[/size][/font] To burn, to stay alive[/size] To stand and wait[/size][/font] It takes fuel to light the tiniest star, and fuel to start a fire[/size][/font] ---------------------------------[/center] Chuck had drank more of the whisky bottle he had opened. No one should care, for Pete’s sake, he was going to buy it anyway. that’s the way Chuck was though. He needed it to calm himself down. Chuck looked over at Faith who must be thinking he is a nut case. She isn’t far off. Chuck was nuts, a little nuts. that’s what you get though when you’re an author, prophet person. When she had asked him if he was an alcoholic, Chuck looked at her with an odd expression on his face. “no, no, not really. I drink to get rid of headaches I have. I don’t drink all the time.” Chuck answered, not really believing himself that he wasn’t an alcoholic. He did only drink when he had visions, afterwards anyway, so did that really make him one?
Chuck nodded to her response. Kripke’s Hollow was in the past. He moved on. Nothing was there for him anymore. Chuck had looked at the man behind the counter and shot him a dirty look. Oh crap. He probably shouldn’t have done that. Now he was dead…or maybe over reacting. Faith had then asked Chuck another question. Chuck looked at her and let out a sigh. “well, I’m an author. I write books.” Chuck replied, not saying that his pen name was Carver Edlund and that the books he wrote were called Supernatural. He would though if she asked. Chuck took another drink from the bottle and the man in front of Faith had left. Chuck waited for Faith to pay for her things, standing behind her patiently. He still felt the headaches burning in his head.
WORDS 278
TAGGED Faith
NOTES sorry my posting got a little slower.
LYRICS Fuel :: Marit Larsen
[/blockquote] |
|
|
|
Post by faith on Jun 30, 2011 10:49:59 GMT -6
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------Faith rose a brow, "Don't they have pills or something for that?" It was true, she remembered her mom taking pills for migraines...and then selling the rest on the street for money but that was besides the point. The brunette totally ignored the person behind her...since she was facing Chuck and all with the talking and all of that.
The Slayer nodded with a smile on her face when he said he was an author, "Book man, that's cool." Well...that wasn't a term she used often...a little bit of the scoobies must be rubbing off on her after all since that was the term they usually used for Giles or even Willow...except girl replaced man of course. "So like...book books or the good stuff?" she said with a little mischievous grin...so actual books or porn was her implication.
She'd have a new found respect for him if he could write a good porn...though by his looks he didn't seem like that kind of guy...though you never know with the nerdy looking guys being the most sexual...as well as being the easiest to fall in love with a one night stand. Xander came to mind on that...a so called 'special connection' of hers in the past...the girl who had him first as she'd liked to tell Anya to shut her up.
Faith slapped down her stuff on the table a little to loudly perhaps...earning a little pissy face from the person behind the counter. She completely ignored it...they were just lucky she had changed because before she had reformed she might have beat the poor cashier around some...probably land them in the hospital...and she wouldn't be paying for these items either. ----------------------------------------- |
|
|
|
Post by Chuck Michael Shurley on Jul 2, 2011 14:00:18 GMT -6
--------------------------------xxxxThe fuel to write
[/size][/font] To burn, to stay alive[/size] To stand and wait[/size][/font] It takes fuel to light the tiniest star, and fuel to start a fire[/size][/font] ---------------------------------[/center] Chuck shook his head at Faith’s question. He let out a sigh and he then said to her “No, nothing helps me. They just get really bad and the only thing that seems to have some effect is alcohol so I just stick with that. The doctors all say nothing is wrong with me either.” He started tapping his foot, being impatient. The writer loved talking to the girl he had just met, but part of him really wanted to just sit on his bed and stare at the ceiling. He was tired, worn out.
Chuck smiled when she commented on his job. Yeah it was sort of cool. It was cool when he didn’t have writers block, or when he wasn’t writing about visions burned into his brain or when he wasn’t recognized. that’s when it was cool. Chuck thought about the past year and realized that it all wasn’t so bad. Sure, he would have done it differently but he had to stick to the plan, the plan that was given to him to write about.
“Book, books.” Chuck replied, understanding what she meant. He had his fair share of that when he was younger. “I wrote a fiction series called Supernatural.” Chuck then said, wondering if she had even heard of it. Probably not. His books didn’t sell many copies. He was grateful for the fans like Becky Rosen who bought everything, and lived and breathed everything supernatural. He couldn’t understand that though.
Chuck watched her put all her things down on the counter and he made up his mind.
“here this too. ” Chuck said and he looked at Faith, taking out his credit card. “least I could do for you having to listen to my pathetic life.” Chuck smiled to her, paying for her things as well as his.
WORDS 304
TAGGED Faith
NOTES
LYRICS Fuel :: Marit Larsen
[/blockquote] |
|
|
|
Post by faith on Jul 6, 2011 1:30:12 GMT -6
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------Faith just nodded with that all knowing 'ah' type expression that she had when she got something. Buffy had said once before that she was a little slow...but whether that was in jest or not remains to be speculated. The brunette stepped backward without looking, her keen slayer senses...and the fact there was like nothing she could run into, kept her from doing just that...running into something.
Faith made that kind of clicking sound she made when she shook her head like she was a bit disappointed...but hey an authors and author...even if they aren't the cool books aka the only books she really has read any of that didn't have to do with her time as the 'only Slayer' or her time as a good guy in Sunnydale...short lived as it was. "Tough break," she commented on him having to write...well actual books instead of smut.
The Slayer didn't pay much attention to the person up front...they were taking their sweet ass time apparently. The woman rose a brow when he said the Supernatural books...nope...never heard of them. "Never heard of em...then again books and me just don't click," she said...a tiny bit of that at least her attempt at trying to make him feel better for her not having read the books...or heard of them.
Then came the time when she could put her shit down on the counter...the person who seemed to take ages in front of them was...well done! Its a freaking miracle! Not like the ones that seem to happen at all of the worst times for the Scoobies but...whatever. The brunette watched as the Chuckster prepared to pay for her stuff and his...well...one point for him. "Well aren't you sweet, a girl could get used to this...right Bertha?" she said turning her attention to the...person most definitely not named Bertha...since...well besides the fact it was a man...no that's about it...it's a man. ----------------------------------------- |
|
