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Post by paperflowers on Feb 8, 2012 16:50:38 GMT -6
Night settled over Richmond like a blanket settling over a bed. It encased the entire town, smothering it with a heavy darkness. The only reprieve from the crush was the twinkling of stars: gaseous bulbs light years above the atmosphere into the true dark black of the universe. When Doyle looked up at it, he could feel it pulling him in. it made him feel small, tiny in a world so big. He had once felt a part of it, like he fitted in with all the other pieces. He was a lost little jigsaw piece, one somewhere in the middle that always got lost. he was hardly a corner who held everything together, or just inside the rim which were always easiest to locate and secure into position. He was lost, tumbling around in the wind like a leaf blown from the trees. He danced in the air, bruised and bashed, going only where the will of others took him.
And yet Doyle had known where he had wanted to be. It had not been a simple talk, locating Angel to Richmond, but he had done it. Now that he was here, he had the more intricate task of locating him within the limits of Richmond itself. Such a task was proving more arduous than discovering his dear friend Angel was here in the first place. He knew not who to task, who to approach, who was an enemy and who was safe. He did not wish to accidentally bring trouble upon the vampire with a soul and his companions. Nor did Doyle wish to accidentally walk into more trouble. He suffered enough at the hands of the Scourge and his evil demon, spiky faced father. He wished now, more than ever, there was a way to remove the demon side from himself, than to live with it marring his being. And yet, he knew logically being half demon did not alter his nature in the slightest. The balance between his humanity and the demon was perfect. He did not technically swing towards one side more than the other and therefore every choice he made was his own, not the result of a festering anger and hatred which he could not understand nor control.
Alone, he walked through the cemetery that night. he hoped perhaps, Angel was out on a random patrol, and should they meet, he did not immediately run him through on the assumption he was fake. Friends coming back from the dead did not happen every day, and so he had every right to be suspicious of a dead friend turning up: if Angel even considered him more than the nuisance he had once been forced to endure. Doyle passed headstone after headstone, his tracks soft on the pavement. His blood red eyes paid little attention to his dark surroundings.
NOTES: Anyone is welcome, of course ^_^
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Post by angel on Feb 11, 2012 12:31:37 GMT -6
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Angel needed time to think and be alone right now. So much had changed lately and it was kind of hard to adjust to. He was now staying in his ex-lover's home along with a bunch of potential slayers. Not only that but his sister had recently appeared in his life again. Katheryn had been eleven when, unknowing to him at the time, she'd been sired by Darla. If Darla hadn't already been dead, she would have been again after Angel had found this out.
Now he was thrust into being a big brother again, though he loved his sister so he didn't exactly mind. Not only this, but he had kissed Buffy the other night too. She'd told him she wanted to be with him and instead of saying something in response, he'd chosen to kiss her instead. They'd been interrupted by Katheryn, thankfully, because if she hadn't come in he wasn't sure how far they would have gone.
He had left the house after asking Buffy to stay with Katheryn. His sister had seemed a bit afraid to be left without him but he'd assured her that it wouldn't be for very long. Buffy had graciously accepted as she probably understood why he needed time to think. Everything was so complicated, as per the usual though. It seemed that his life would never be simple like when he was human. He wished so badly that at least Buffy could have a normal life, if anyone. Yet she seemed to not want one and didn't care if she ever had one or not. He left it alone for now, she'd left their relationship in his hands. Basically she'd told him that she did want to be with him and that it was up to him.
How the hell was he supposed to give her an answer? Of course he wanted her, he always had. But how were they supposed to be together when he was still cursed? They could never be together full blown if he was bound from happiness with the curse by the gypsies. She might say right now that she can live without the physical needs but he knew eventually, she'd get tired of that. Why should she have to settle for him?
Shaking off these thoughts he parked his car outside of the cemetery gates, along the curb. He got out of the car and locked the doors and walked over to the gates. They were locked and he could either break the lock, or jump over the gate. Breaking the lock would cause someone to know someone had been there, so he leapt over the gate instead. Landing on his feet with a soft thud, he looked straight ahead and began walking into the cemetery.
Pulling a stake out of his coat pocket, he kept his senses alert for movement. Right now he felt like a good ole' fist fight would relieve his stress, even if only for a moment. His feet made a soft squishing noise on the ground as it had rained earlier that day. In the far distance, he did hear someone else walking as well. Moving towards the sound, he picked up the speed a bit and kept to the shadows.
-------------------------------------------- Tag: Doyle Word count: 541 Notes: Mind if I jump in? Only seemed fitting since he's looking for Angel lol. |
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Post by paperflowers on Feb 11, 2012 16:38:59 GMT -6
Doyle was used to being on his own. He had been on his own for four years, give or take a few months, before he was sent to be Angel's Messenger. Basically, he was a grunt worker, for a chosen warrior. His task had been to relay the messages plugged into his head by the Powers That Be. He had to pay his due for allowing a bunch of Brachen demons to die at the hands of the Scourge. And Doyle had paid. Yet it appeared he had not suffered enough. He was back on the world after being dragged from heaven. Had he been given the choice, Doyle would have refused the option of coming back to live on Earth. he died at 24 but he had been happy in death. It had taken death for him to find peace.
Doyle thought often about the fact he was supposed to be dead. He thought about how the Scourge under the command of his father had beaten him senseless to prove he was 'worthy' of having his precious soul removed. The Irishman was sensitive about his eternal spirit. It belonged to him and to him only. His damaged state of mind had clung to the knowledge he possessed a soul and that didn't make him evil. The thought that there was a way to snatch it from him was horrifying, petrifying. It stole the breath from his lungs. His hands started to shake.
Doyle walked through the damp cemetery, his green eyes which held now only flecks of red, scanned the area for danger. He was terrified the Scourge would find him here. All he wanted was to find Angel. That vampire was the only friend he had. He had worried for Angel's sanity when they first met. His tendency to brood and dark corners was great. They had made an odd, but good team. To be honest, he wasn't much use to Angel now that he didn't have the visions and tended to jump at shadows. He hadn't thought of much beyond finding him. Doyle was still trying to deal with living in a world so different from heaven, and the immediate torture he was put through upon coming back from his reward.
He did not notice he was being followed. Doyle continued to walk through the cemetery, seemingly alone.
NOTES: Of course! This has made me very happy ^_^ Umm... post kinda sucks, sorry >.<
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Post by angel on Feb 11, 2012 21:59:56 GMT -6
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The air was chilly tonight compared to the past nights. The gentle but obvious wind didn't bother him though, it felt good against his skin. As a vampire he was used to being cold as they always were. Hot weather didn't bother him either as they were naturally colder. It took a lot for Angel to actually get hot. The only time he would actually sweat is if he worked out for several hours.
Or, he trained with Buffy. She had been the only person to ever really prove a challenge to him. If Willow hadn't reinstated his soul back when he'd turned into Angelus in Sunnydale, he wasn't sure if Buffy would have fun that battle. Honestly every time they trained together, one of them just ended up giving up and calling it quits. If they didn't they knew they could go forever. Both of them loved training together because neither of them had to hold back.
His leather duster blew back in the wind a bit as he walked. He barely noticed it and continued walking, paying attention to every sound around him. He was getting closer to the person he'd heard earlier. Well, if it even was a person. He had no clue what it was but since this was a cemetery after all, he doubted it was human.
Hiding himself in the shadows, he clung to the side of a mausoleum as he heard the person approaching him. The person then walked around from the other side of the mausoleum, passing by him. He was about five ten or so and normal sized, from the back he looked like a normal person. Though he didn't seem like a vampire, he didn't seem human either. He couldn't quite see his face so he knew he needed to get a better view.
There was always the chance that this actually was a human and he was just assuming. Though it was a slim chance, he knew he should probably find out for sure before he made his move. Stepping out of the shadows, he called out to the man. "Isn't it kind of late for a walk?" the vampire asked, his tone demanding. If the guy were smart he'd take off running. If he proved to be a vampire or some sort of demon, he'd be dead within minutes. Angel had a lot of aggression and stress that he needed to work out. What better way to work it out then decking a demon a few times? [/blockquote] --------------------------------------------[/color][/center] Tag: Doyle Word count: 426 Notes: Kinda short sorry. They weren't talking to each other yet so I didn't have much to write haha. |
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Post by paperflowers on Feb 12, 2012 16:35:53 GMT -6
Doyle didn't particularly like cemeteries. He had avoided them in his first life. Never, would he go through them, unless he was forced to by some way of duty. Helping the helpless had often taken him down into the sewers (much to Cordelia's outrage). He hadn't particularly liked that either, but the sewers Angel had taken to were especially clean. He preferred the sewers to the cemeteries to be honest, which most would find weird. Grave yards gave off a weird vibe which gave the hybrid heeby jeebies. He'd let others creep around such places at night looking for trouble.
So why was he here? He didn't know. He had no where else to go, no place to sleep, no place to stop for the night. He wouldn't accidentally sleep here: which would avoid getting beaten up or the clothes stolen from his back. Alone, he shoved his hands in his pockets and tried to ignore the slight chill in the air. He was deathly tired. He hadn't had a proper night's sleep since before he died. He spent much of his waking hours searching for his 'dead' friend. He had to be careful about who he asked and all that. Not a lot of people would know of, or like Angel, considering he made a living out of killing demons.
It seemed like such a long time ago that he was fighting crime by having visions shoved through his ears and into his grey matter. Well, it was quite a long time, since he had been dead. But when he had come back, initially, it had felt like he was waking from a prolonged slumber. The Scourge had changed all that. Now it felt as though years had passed since he had last had a vision crack down upon him, since he had last had a drank, or saw his friend's dark worried eyes brood at every available opportunity. And Doyle missed him.
Doyle felt a grin break out on his face when he heard that voice. It was unmistakeable. OK so he was being mean, but this was the place where the dead started walking. He let out a laugh. he couldn't help it! He might smell a little different, having been dead and his demon side drawn out farther than it had ever been. "Been looking for you," Doyle replied. "Turns out, in the scheme of things, you're not that difficult to find," doyle said, turning.
NOTES: That's perfectly all right hunny!
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Post by angel on Feb 12, 2012 19:17:36 GMT -6
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Angel was actually quite surprised at how quickly he’d been able to find something to kill. In fact, since he’d been here he’d seen quite a few vampires. The amount of supernatural activity in this town was quite shocking really. It sort of reminded him of Sunnydale, though it was a much larger city. Sunnydale had been around two square miles. There was a good side of town and then about two blocks away, the bad side of town. The bad side of town had consisted of the docks and the warehouse district. Surprising enough, most of the vampires had hunted in the good part of town. It kind of made sense, considering that’s where most of the teenagers were.
Teenagers were the easiest prey because for one, they tended to trust a lot easier. Two, they tasted better than most adults. It grossed him out to think of people like this since he hated that side of himself, but it was true. The younger, the more pure the blood was. He’d always loved feeding off of drunk people. Not only did you fill your belly but you got drunk usually as well. The alcohol stayed in the blood so drinking the blood was like killing two birds with one stone.
Noticing how far off track he’d let himself get, he focused his attention back to the demon before him. He kept his stake hidden inside his jacket just in case it turned out not to be a demon, and instead just a man taking a late walk. As the person turned around, Angel felt dumbfounded. It was Doyle. Doyle?!?!? No, it couldn’t be. He still remembered watching Doyle sacrifice himself like it was yesterday. Now, he was standing right in front of him? This couldn’t be possible, it just couldn’t be. And apparently he was looking for Angel? This just seemed too coincidental to be true and he found himself suspicious. If it really was his old friend, he was going to flip out. Well Angel never really flipped out but inside, he’d be overjoyed.
His eyes widened as he saw Doyle’s face and heard his voice. He took a step closer to him cautiously, ”Doyle? Is it really you? How are you here?” He hoped that if it really was Doyle, that he wasn’t being too questioning. It was just such a pure shock to see him here, right in Richmond, right in the same cemetery Angel had been patrolling in, standing right in front of him. He had the urge to reach out and give the man a hug but he didn’t, not yet. He wouldn’t do anything until he was absolutely sure that it was really him. [/blockquote] --------------------------------------------[/color][/center] Tag: Doyle Word count: 451 Notes: ---- |
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Post by paperflowers on Feb 13, 2012 7:26:54 GMT -6
Angel, and Cordelia too, had taught Doyle that being on your own was no fun. He could do it no problem, and he had always thought that it was better. He had thought that, because then he had no one to be relied upon by and thus no one to bitterly and crushingly disappoint like he had with Harry. There was no one to come home to his broken wreck of an apartment, shake their head in disappointment, sigh, tut and /or mutter before traipsing around it whipping up socks that had been so thoughtlessly discarded on the floor. There was no one to rely upon, either, of course, and therefore he could not himself be heart broken by the nature of humanity like a sharp blow to his already sensitive soul. he took things personal, Doyle knew that, even when he wasn't supposed to or didn't even mean to: he could take things personal. Everything registered with him, though over the years he had taught himself not to be bothered by it. Practice turned into habit and so by the time he met Cordelia Chase, riches to rag and Prom Queen Supreme, most of what she said rolled right off his back. Most of the time it amused him. She was cute, stunning actually, and he was, well, a small, pale faced Irish bloke she thought was from England.
He hadn't been disappointed by Cordelia. Well, only once, when trying to film that advert because he was 'less intimidating' than Angel, she had called him a weasel. It had touched a nerve and quite rightly hadn't liked it a bit. Doyle knew she had thought many things of him, particularly due to her failed relationship with 'Xander' (and thus came to the conclusions any guy who had to work hard for a living had to be the same, so it was just men of means for her). He hadn't minded. In fact he had liked the challenge of changing her mind. The thrill is in the chase, though he equally liked the part after that too: walks alone piers and beaches, and dinners and coffee, among other things. She, probably more than anything, forced humanity on Angel. She was much better for the job.
And by the time he had died, Angel was caring. He was protecting the helpless, the hopeless and the downtrodden not because he had to or because someone told him to by sticking an Irish half demon on his face, but because he wanted to. He wanted those visions to come so he'd be able to save someone and scrape a little bit of blackness from his name. There was nothing wrong with getting something other than satisfaction out of it. Angel wanted to be human one day, to live and die just like the rest of them: his ultimate reward. Though, Doyle that, that was just the first step, for even as a human he could still end up in hell. He had refrained from ever mentioning that little fact to anyone. Humanity first. Angel would have to worry about where he'd end up when the time came.
Here he was, alone again, in a cemetery no less. He wanted nothing but to wander about for a few hours, wasting a way the darkness until it was a suitable time to attempt to locate Angel once more. As luck would have it, however, the man came straight to him. Doyle felt elated. short of yelling surprise - that would just be cruel and unusual - Doyle grinned at the shocked vampire. "I walked," Doyle replied. "Well, not the entire way. That's just crazy," He said before adding. "So Richmond, I hear demonic activity makes Los Angeles look quiet,"
NOTES: <3
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Post by angel on Feb 21, 2012 18:09:58 GMT -6
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The age old vampire's head was spinning right now, he didn't know what to think. Doyle was here in the flesh. He knew it was really him, he could just tell by his eyes that it was truly him. How he was here he had no clue. More than likely the powers that be were up to something. It seemed like they always were, like they always had some plan cooking up. While he did serve them in order for his redemption, he didn't always agree with what they did even though he knew they had the world's best interests in mind (usually). Sometimes it was just how they went about doing things that bugged him.
For instance, he knew about the spell that Willow cast that turned all of the potentials into slayers. Now even though it had been a necessary task, it hadn't been viewed lightly in the eyes of the powers that be. Surely the increase in demonic activity lately had been to tip the scales back, or at least he assumed. It wasn't only Richmond that had a lot of activity, it was all over the world. The hellmouth in Cleveland had gotten pretty bad from what he'd heard. Honestly, he'd considered going there himself but had gotten sidetracked along the way. Now that he was here with Buffy and the gang and his baby sister, he wasn't sure if or when he'd ever leave.
A low chuckle erupted from the vampire, hearing Doyle tell him that he'd walked. "From where? I just mean, how did you come back? Do you even know?" He hoped that he wasn't being too forward with all of his questions. It just interested him and after all, Doyle had been one of his best friends. They'd always gotten along great and he'd even brought out a bit of a sense of humor in Angel. Plus, he just wanted to make sure that his friend was going to be alright and he didn't have any problems with his return. Angel himself had tons of questions when he'd been brought back to life, so he could relate to Doyle.
As he made his way next to Doyle, he began to walk beside him. Both of them were side by side strolling through the cemetery like old times, it was quite nice actually. Angel had really missed his company, especially lately. Even though he had people around him all the time, he missed hearing Doyle's humorous comments and quips. "I haven't seen much yet, I just got here about a week ago. From what I've heard though...it's not good" he told him grimly. It sucked to admit that they may be in for more war against the evils of the world. It seemed like their last battle should have been the final battle and yet, it also seemed like it would never be over. All in all, it was disheartening. Still, he knew they would all continue to fight; they had to.
Still walking next to Doyle he kept his senses alerted to their surroundings, not wanting to get ambushed. He knew that Doyle wasn't human, that much was obvious. He was indeed a demon again and so Angel assumed he'd been brought back to what he'd been before. "Are you the messenger for the powers that be again?" the vampire asked, honestly just curious. If he came back demon, it seemed like a logical question to ask if he was still a seer for them. If so, it might be quite helpful to have him here in Richmond. Regardless of whether or not he was, Angel was glad to have him either way.
-------------------------------------------- Tag: Doyle Word count: 627 Notes: Sorry this took so long. As you seen by Britt's post in the away board for me, I've been having laptop troubles. I'm using my boyfriend's right now lol. |
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Post by paperflowers on Feb 24, 2012 16:40:31 GMT -6
Poor Angel. He was probably dizzy with confusion. He was most likely seeped in bamboozlement. How could Doyle be here? He was asking himself. The truth wasn't a pretty story and it was one he was going to have to tell sooner rather than later. Doyle's own head was still pretty shaky. He was still getting used to being back. It was so strange. He felt cold all the time now. The shivers were small but they were there. How did people get warm again? Doyle had forgotten what it was like to feel warm and it not be linked to pain.
He hadn't thought much beyond finding Angel. Finding Angel had been the be all and end off for Doyle since coming back. Driven away from the Scourge, Doyle hadn't stopped moving in fear they would find him. That had made his life all the more difficult when it came to locating his friend, living, surviving, eating. He hadn't thought about what he would do in life. He wasn't going to be much use to Angel. He didn't like fighting, he had no contacts, he didn't have visions and he had the darkest cloud hanging over his head. Effectively he was bringing trouble to Angel's door but what else could he do? It was this or try to survive on his own and ultimately get caught by the Scourge and ripped from his life. He wanted nothing to do with that kind of violence and hatred. He hated that he was potentially leading it to Angel's door...again. god he was such a screwed up mess.
Doyle didn't want to talk about it, even though he knew he would have to so he clung to trivial tid bits. Apparently he had got wind of his placement at Richmond and managed to get here less than a week Angel got here. That struck Doyle as rather odd and made him wonder if he hadn't had help. His luck, on his own, was never that good. Doyle glanced at the sky thinking maybe the Powers helped him here before shaking his head. He was hardly that important. He was just a little Irishman who caused them more than enough trouble.
"Really?" Doyle asked surprised. "Feels like I've been looking for you for ages," Doyle said, answering this question instead of the others first just to put them off. Why was everything so damn difficult? Doyle chuckled. "First thing I did was try to find you," Was that sad? He couldn't exactly handle himself and Angel really was the only friend he had. He was the only thing that mattered in this world - besides his mother and Cordelia of course. he was the only male friend he had picked up over the years and he was dear to him. Very dear.
Doyle took a shaky breath. "I don't have visions, if that's what you mean," He hedged, still avoiding the truth because it was difficult for him to bear let alone think about. This was a necessary conversation otherwise what was the point in coming here? he had made a promise that if he was in trouble he'd tell Angel. He just hoped the guy cared enough not to think him a complete waste of space. He comes back just to bring him grief. Some friend, huh? "It...it wasn't the Powers that brought me back," Doyle admitted and paused. "You know I hadn't taken discovering my demon half well. Truth is I went entirely off the rails. I feared more than anything that it made me evil or susceptible to becoming it. I figured me dad had to be," Doyle nodded for comfort.
They were walking together which was nice. It was comfortable and familiar. His heart was fluttering hard and he was cold, shivering beneath his clothes. "You and Princess taught me that it probably wasn't true. That it didn't matter," Doyle said, taking a deep breath. "Only it does, it has too. So much of my life make sense now. Why me mam was so terrified when I was a kid, why I was dragged all around Ireland..." he couldn't delay it anymore. Doyle was good at that. He tried to avoid all sorts of intimate, meaningful and especially emotional situations. "It was me dad who brought me back, Angel," his mouth was dry, his hands shaking. "He's a...he's a high flying member of the Scourge. He beat me up and more or less initiated me into the Scourge and tried to steal my soul," Angel more than anyone, knew how much he feared that. "He m-modified the ritual just for me," Doyle said before laughing brokenly. He was more than a bit broken. It wasn't OK to be a demon. It wasn't. His father was evil, he was back from the dead, his ribs still ached and he had bruises on his back. Yeah he wasn't quite together.
NOTES: Apologies for the delay, Luv. Essay deadline loomed in my face with alarming loudness . Glad you're back! XD
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Post by angel on Feb 25, 2012 1:21:04 GMT -6
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Even though he was extremely confused, he was also extremely happy to have Doyle back. It had been years since he'd seen him, yet they both looked the exact same. That came with being demons but still, it was a bit odd when you really thought about it. Angel wasn't normally very talkative but right now he couldn't help it. He had a lot of questions, he just hoped that Doyle didn't mind. It would probably get old for him very soon to be interrogated. Plus, he might not even have an answer for all of them. This being said he made a mental note to try and chill out with all of the questions about him coming back.
It didn't really surprise the vampire that he'd come looking for him first. After all, Cordelia was now gone and he wasn't very close to anyone else. Now he found himself wondering if he even knew about Cordelia's death. He wasn't going to break it to him right now if he didn't, right now should be a semi-happy time for the two of them being reunited and all. "I'm glad you did, missed having a certain thorn in my side" he said with his own chuckle. Doyle had always had a sense of humor so he knew he would take it as a joke. Even though he'd sometimes been a bit of a pain in the ass, that was part of what Angel loved about him. Plus the man was just downright entertaining. And okay, he was a good guy and a good friend and Angel really cared about him. His death had crushed him and it had been awhile before he'd really gotten over it. When he told Angel that he didn't have visions, the vampire tilted his head. The tone of voice the demon had spoken with let him know immediately that something was wrong. He had known Angel pretty well and had helped him out of a lot of sticky situations, he knew when something was up. Instead of asking he waited for him to continue, silently just looking him in the eyes. Whatever he was hiding from him must've been pretty important. Usually, Doyle had always been pretty blunt. If he felt the need to pause and hide something, it must be pretty bad. Still walking next to each other, he listened as his friend talked about his family. He had told Angel about them before. About how he was dragged all over Ireland and when he was young, he didn't quite know why yet. How when he'd learned that he was half-demon he had hated himself. Cordelia and Angel had tried to teach him that he still had a soul, he could make his own decisions and be his own person. Still it had been very difficult for Doyle to accept this. No matter how many jokes he made, Angel knew that he'd always been a bit of a tortured soul. He assumed this was part of why they got along so well and had become so close in the past. As Doyle paused, Angel gave him a look, signalling for him to continue and get to the point. Not that he was bored or anything; he just wanted to know what he was getting at. When he finally finished, Angel realized why it had taken him so long to tell him. "Hmm..so let me get this straight. Essentially, he wants to strip your soul and have you join them?" [/color] He wasn't stupid, he just wanted to make sure that he'd heard him correctly and wasn't just hearing things. It was ridiculous and yet at the same time, made complete sense. "And, are you alright?"[/color] he then added, a worried look coming across his brooding handsome features. No matter what, Angel would always be by his side. Doyle had always been by his. He'd even sacrificed himself to save him and Cordelia. "If there still after you, which I'm sure they are, you shouldn't just be out by yourself. I'm staying here in town, with Buffy actually...but -- the house is filled with potential slayers. You'll be safe there, you can bunk downstairs with me, I think there's another room and I doubt Buffy would mind."[/color] In all honesty, he really didn't think Buffy would mind but he hoped he was right. It just wasn't safe for Doyle to be out on his own. No matter what, Angel was going to help his friend.[/blockquote] --------------------------------------------[/color][/center] Tag: Doyle Word count: 770 Notes: I love them! |
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Post by paperflowers on Feb 25, 2012 18:13:26 GMT -6
Doyle wasn't happy to be back. He felt lost. He felt broken. He felt full of despair and anxiety. He was calm now though, only because Angel was here. He finally found him, or was found, whatever. Angel always had that kind of effect on him. Even when he was freaking out it never seemed so bad with the vampire with a soul around. It wasn't just because he was an awesome fighter - because that certainly helped - but because he was this, warm (ironically), comforting presence who had his back despite the fact Doyle was a pain in the ass half the time. Angel was the only true friend he had. Wasn't that sad? His best friend was a dead guy, who he had been forced to partner up with.
Doyle scoffed at Angel's comment and bumped his shoulder playfully. He certainly was a sharp thorn. Not only had he crashed into Angel's life by lying in wait in his appartment like a weirdo, he regaled the guy's entire life story to him while Angel listened with an annoyed expression. Then he badgered him about Cordelia and going out and having any form of fun that didn't involve denying oneself of fresh air. He hadn't been asking for sunlight air, of course, just any kind of air that was confined in a box that had been those offices. After pestering him he ended up being hounded by a Califf demon because of his debt crisis. Angel had held his issue with Cordelia over his head and Doyle had truly taken that at face value until Angel said he was to ask him for help next time he was in trouble. Doyle hadn't intended to tell him anything of the sort. Being a burden was not acceptable to him. Doyle didn't except anything from anyone. Life had taught him that people take what they want and give little to nothing back. Angel offering to help him had been strange to Doyle. No one wanted to help a hybrid.
Doyle had opened up to Angel. It had surprised him that he actually wanted to share these things with the Irishman. The initial reason had been the promise he had made to him. Doyle did not break oaths he swore, no matter how small it had been. The promise had been one made because he had no other choice in the matter. Knowing everything about Angel hadn't been fair and while Doyle had promised to open up to Angel he also asked for time. It wasn't an easy thing to tell someone about your past especially when you were so crushingly ashamed of it. The one good thing that came from having someone know everything about you was you didn't have to take the pain to reveal it. There had to be something refreshing but terrifying in that. Angel hadn't liked it, he knew, but he had accepted it pretty well. Doyle to this day didn't know why Angel hadn't rejected him despite claiming it was Angel's inner goodness and desire to reform. He had been winging it, just like had been winging a lot of things in his life.
Doyle swallowed hard as he listened to Angel say it so bluntly. Yes. That was more or less how it went. "The standard ritual doesn't apply to adults: it only works on prepubescent children. After that you need permission," Doyle supplied wondering how he had managed to soak this information in. It had to be because they explained it to him, though he didn't particularly recall much of his time with the Scourge beyond being called unsavoury names and being taught sword fighting. Oh yeah, the sword fighting. Doyle rotated his wrist as phantom pain sparked within it. It had been long and gruellingly painful and there was no way he couldn't forget that. Not ever. In fact he had woken up to more than a few nightmares about it. sleeping hadn't been his favourite activity of late.
"Yeah, yeah," Doyle replied vaguely. "I'm alright," he added softly. truth was, he was anything but. He didn't want Angel to worry about him. His ribs hurt, his back was giving him trouble and he was colder than he should be. He was sensitive to light and noise and had developed a keen dislike of being sneaked up upon. He jumped at loud noises and was developing a hatred of cars. This world was so loud and noisy and cruel. It was steeped in pain. It was boiling in fury and hatred and death. Torment lingered before it faded.
"I'm sorry," Doyle said, slipping into apology mode in the attempt to make himself more amenable. It was a habit cultivated by years of living off the kindness of others. "I only just got back and I'm already making life difficult for you," he said, his head facing the ground. Then he looked up. "You sure? I won't be in the way or anything?" Doyled asked. Hey, he could live with a bunch of girls. Wait... "You're hoarding potential slayers? One not enough for ya?" Doyle attempted to joke. Hm...that one was pretty bad. He'd blame it on the dizzying lack of sleep.
NOTES: <3
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Post by angel on Feb 26, 2012 11:00:06 GMT -6
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When Doyle nudged him in the shoulder at his comment, Angel couldn't help but let out a small chuckle. Even though they hadn't seen each other in years it seemed like they'd never left each other. Most people would have been awkward around each other after not seeing each other for five years. For these two, this wasn't the case. They had always been best friends and still acted as such even after they had been apart. He knew that things had probably changed but he didn't care, he would fill in Doyle later. Right now he just wanted to talk to his friend. He wanted to figure out what his problem was and to try and help him, if he could. Even if it wouldn't be easy to help him, he intended on doing so.
The wind blew by, giving off a slight chill on their skin. Being that Angel was dead and cold anyways, it didn't bother him much. As a matter of fact temperature in general didn't really have much of an effect on vampires. Of course if it got too hot it bothered him, but it had to be really hot for that to happen. Like one hundred degrees plus to annoy him and even then, it needed to be closer to to one hundred and twenty degrees. So when the wind gusted by them and over their skin, it didn't appear to phase him.
The vampire nodded as he tried to take everything in, thinking about everything carefully and dissecting it as such. "And he's already gained permission?" he then asked, for clarification. It seemed that he may have eluded to the fact earlier but Angel just wanted to be sure. It felt almost like he was taking up another case at Angel Investigations. As if, Doyle was a client and he was grilling him for questions. Basically this was true although he hoped he wasn't necessarily "grilling" him, as he didn't want to push. It seemed that his friend was still rather fragile. The more Angel thought about this situation the more questions he had. He just couldn't help it, once he started working on something he couldn't stop. "Do you know how many of them there are? Looking for you, that is." [/color] He really just needed to know whether or not an entire army was out looking for him. When they both got back to Buffy's, he was going to have to explain to her. She too would need to know what she was getting into with it being her house and all. Plus, they would need to talk about how to defeat the things should they attack. Willow would need to know certain things to perhaps form a protection spell. A lot of things were running rampant through his mind right now. The tone of voice that Doyle used when saying he was alright led Angel to believe that he wasn't. "We'll get you checked out when we get back."[/color] Basically, he was letting Doyle know that he was going to get doctored up and he wasn't taking no for an answer. He cared about the half-demon and if he was hurt, he was going to find out and have him taken care of. There were plenty of potentials in the house that would be willing to help. They might be a little hesitant around a half-demon, but they wouldn't know right away, not unless he told them. He suspected they weren't fans of having Angel in the house either, being his history and all. Nonetheless he was there and going to remain there for a while so he hoped they'd warm up to him. Hearing an apology from his friend made him feel bad. Had the comment about being a thorn in his side gotten to him? Had he taken Angel seriously? He hadn't meant it in a serious way. "Don't apologize, life is always difficult. The distraction will be kind of nice actually"[/color] he then added with a lighter tone. With everything going on with Katheryn and Buffy, it would be kind of nice to have something else to focus on. He only hoped that the potentials wouldn't make him coming there a big deal to where he felt unwelcome. He nodded his head to being sure, though the nod was probably barely noticeable. "I'm sure, the more the merrier in that house."[/color] When fighting evil, more people meant you had a better chance. Although he wasn't exactly sure if Doyle was in the condition to fight. Nonetheless, he still really wanted him there. "Trust me...One is plenty"[/color] he said in a deep tone, giving his friend a sideways glare before adding a deep chuckle. With this, he gestured for them to continue walking in the direction of the cemetery entrance. He might not have actually slayed anything tonight, but he'd done something much more important. Now he wanted to get Doyle back to the house and checked out, as well as start researching the Scourge.[/blockquote] --------------------------------------------[/color][/center] Tag: Doyle Word count: 867 Notes: Ill, sorry if this post sucked. Should we start a new thread when they get to the house, or just end this one with them getting there? |
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Post by paperflowers on Feb 26, 2012 17:47:05 GMT -6
Doyle had been hoping it would be this easy. He had been hoping to slip into the pattern of support and comfort and friendship. To Doyle it hadn't been too long since they had been separated by fate. A few months, perhaps, since he had seen that high forehead and dark eyes, but it was a lot longer for Angel. He wasn't sure how long he had been gone for. He had failed to see any newspapers anywhere, walking right by them. It probably should have been important for him to find out, but in his desire to find Angel he had neglected to find that information out. It was over a year. That was all he knew.
He was glad there was no awkwardness. It would have upset him greatly, more than he would ever admit too, if Angel had been distant from him. That distance would have made doyle entirely lost and force him to doubt they were ever friends. His esteem had always been alarmingly low and he was always quick to think of the worst of himself and didn't set high bars for how others saw him either. For a long time he had wanted people to think he was a worthless street hustler who saw only his next con in everyone he met. Try as he might he nearly always failed at that, though had managed to convince cordelia he was indeed nothing than a half decent (perhaps) lowlife with no money and no ambitions.
And in an instant, true to form and in a highly defensive mood, Doyle glared at Angel. "You think I'd give it away??" he asked. You'd have to torture him first. You'd have to threaten all he cared about and while that wasn't much it meant a great deal to Doyle. He would do anything to protect those he loves. "You..." Doyle shook his head, till annoyed. Angel couldn't have meant that. No. Stupid idiot. Angel knew what hi soul meant to him, didn't he? If he didn't then the vampire didn't know him at all. Besides, he couldn't afford to have a fight with Angel right now. "He doesn't need it," Doyle said quietly and mournfully. "I don't know how, but he modified the ritual. I don't even need to be conscious for it," Doyle said before muttering darkly. "In fact, if it has to happen I'd rather not be," It was excruciatingly painful to have one's soul ripped out.
"Oh," Doyle said, his stomach falling through his feet. How could he forget about that other anonymous group who had stormed the ritual? How Doyle had managed to flee he would never know. He hadn't even been able to comprehend what was going on with anything other than a base degree of competency. Somehow he made it. Unless...it was a set up? It could be. Elaborate plans had known to be hatched before. He could still be being used. Doyle frowned deeply. "During the ritual, they had already started when dark figures broke into the compound. In the confusion I managed to get away," Who were they?
Doyle shivered violently when another gust of wind blew around him. He had just managed to hold in the last shiver when the wind blew around him before. He couldn't now. He was already cold, and he was tired, hungry, sore and stressed. He was having to rely on Angel, again, though he' rather rely on him than anyone else. Besides the whole 'might turn horrendously evil' thing, Angel was the most trustworthy guy Doyle knew. Everyone had their pitfalls. "I'm fine," Doyle said in a stronger tone, though it was probably off set by his shivering.
A distraction? He's a distraction? Great. Well he'd take distraction over nusiance any day. Doyle smiled at Angel in thanks. "So how's things?" doyle asked, curious.
NOTES: Don't worry about it! Ummm....we should have a new thread at the house and leave it open to buffy and such if it's at the house? shake things up a bit, no? Hope you feel better soon!
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Post by angel on Mar 2, 2012 19:57:47 GMT -6
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By the glare that he had received from Doyle, he knew that he’d messed up. Well not exactly messed up as understood. The way he’d understood it was that his father had to get permission from other members of the scourge. He hadn’t thought that Doyle meant he had to receive permission from himself. No, that hadn’t occurred to Angel. As he realized how much he’d offended his friend he did a mental head slap. Maybe his head had been somewhere else or he just hadn’t heard correctly. Nonetheless, he now felt bad about making Doyle think like that. Doyle probably took it as Angel thinking lowly of him. He knew Doyle’s true heart and soul, he knew he wouldn’t give himself over to them for anything. That hadn’t been how he’d meant it.
As he glared, Angel stopped abruptly and turned to the side to face his friend. ”No, that wasn’t what I meant – “ but before he could finish, his friend was interrupting him. Instead of interrupting him back he just stood there. He folded his arms as he listened to Doyle speak, listened to him object. ”I misunderstood. I thought you meant he needed permission from other members of the scourge, not from youself.” [/color] Hopefully his clarification would calm him down. Not only did his friend look angry but he looked hurt as well. It was as if Angel had questioned his integrity, his strength, where he really hadn’t. It made him feel bad to know that he’d accidently hurt or angered him. Angel was usually pretty good with words, with understanding. In fact he was generally a pretty understanding person. Even after Buffy had killed him, he’d forgiven her. He understood that in that position they’d been in, she’d had no other choice. That things would have been very difficult if she hadn’t done it. That in doing it, she was also hurting herself. The ritual had already begun and his blood had been the only way to cease it. Sure they probably could have cut his hand and held it over it, but who really knew if that would have been enough. She was the slayer and it was her duty to protect the world she lived in no matter what. He hadn’t been angry when he’d come back, he’d been proud of her for being so strong. Doyle had to know that it wasn’t in Angel’s nature to doubt people, he just had to. Nodding at Doyle’s description of the ritual, he took a minute to think before responding. It wasn’t much to go on but it was better than nothing. ”Well, it’s a start. We’ll need to sit down when we get to the house. You can describe them to me and I’ll sketch them, it’ll give us something to research.”[/color] Angel had always been very talented at drawing. How could he not be, he’d had centuries to practice. Even Angelus was quite good at drawing. He’d drawn pictures of Buffy and Willow sleeping, leaving them by their bedside to scare them. It was frightening just how sadistic Angelus could really be. If there was ever a way to separate him from Angel and destroy him, he’d hop on board immediately. As the wind gusted by them he noticed Doyle shivering. As a vampire, Angel never really got cold at all. As far as he could remember Doyle really hadn’t either, that’s how he knew something was up with him. ”Honestly…you’ve missed a lot. Let’s just get back to the house right now. We can get you checked out and then catch up on things.”[/color] There was a lot he’d need to fill him in on. Everything that had happened since he’d been gone, everything he’d missed. He definitely wasn’t going to enjoy telling him the news about Cordy. As they continued walking, Angel directed him towards the entrance of the cemetery where his car was parked. [/blockquote] --------------------------------------------[/color][/center] Tag: Doyle Word count: 654 Notes: Do you want to start a new one with them going to the house? Maybe yours can be them talking in the car, and arriving. Then Angel's post back can be taking them inside? Let me know so I can have Britt close the thread! |
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Post by paperflowers on Mar 7, 2012 10:15:44 GMT -6
There were few things precious to Doyle. Those who knew him might count whisky as one of the highest. Lord knows the number of times he's complained about there not being enough whisky around or the quality of amber liquid. 'Poly malt' had often flirted with his lips in a disgraced tone, and an 'ugh' expression after downing the remedy to a choking headache mind cracking vision. Or simply, he was hungover and didn't want to be. But that wasn't true. Doyle was very fond of Whisky, which was why he had drank so much of it in the past, it wasn't a great passion of his. It was love, and affection which was most precious to Doyle. His mother, Cordelia, Angel, and knowing he had someone to rely on and who didn't think he was a complete waste of space, and more than anything, his soul. Doyle had often grumbled a bit about helping out Angel but he had been happy to after initially getting over the shock of actually having to be in physical danger. He didn't like it, but it had been a small price to pay in the long run, and Doyle had known it then too. He was probably less of a burden then than he was now. And when it came to his soul, Doyle was viciously defensive of it. It was his and his alone. The thought that anyone could or would want to steal it was maddening. If Angel thought he had slept at all since his return he was deadly wrong. How could he sleep when all he dreamt bout was his soul being snatched in the middle of the night and waking to see spikes and green skin in the mirror?
So when Angel had asked him if his father got permission he saw red. He was gravely insulted and entirely offended. How could he think something so vile? He knew how much Doyle cherished the fact it made him not demon so even suggesting such a thing was ridiculous. Doyle still smarted from the comment but kept quiet. It took a lot of will power too, to say nothing about it and pretend Angel hadn't just committed a crime against his humanity. By the look on Angel's face he was sure he knew what he had done, and then the guy was speaking.
Oh. Well now doesn't he feel like an idiot. Doyle sighed to himself heavily. Typical. Well at least he hadn't changed. Not that he was sure he had but it was always a fear of his. The demon in him had been brought out more and that might affect his mentality in some way. He certainly was giggling insanely a lot more at things he found oddly funny in a kind of pained way. But that might just be the human part of him channelling screaming into something more bearable. He couldn't say either way. He had never taken much interest in psychology. "Oh," Doyle replied dully after his thoughts trailed to an end. "Well he did. But not like, in a formal, mystical kind of way," he said. They beat him up. Any excuse. You know?
Doyle started to giggle then. How was he going to give him any information? He was in so much pain at the time it was amazing he got away. His soul had just been half ripped out his body and it was like slowly taking off a plaster on skin covered in hair, or waxing long hair, or something. It hurt like you wouldn't believe. And there was the whole being beaten up before hand which hadn't been pleasant either. AT the time, his eyes were kinda swollen and all he could make out were dark shadowy figures. There was nothing to sketch. There was nothing to go on. There was nothing to know, nothing to do and no way to fix this. How could you possibly fix this? There was no way to make it better. There was no way to know who that other party was. Doyle didn't have answers. He didn't want to think about it, talk about it or know about it. And he had to. He knew he was no help. He never was.
"It's been a couple of years right?" Doyle more state than asked. At that moment he was envying Angel's ability to not feel the cold. Doyle was too thin now, not that he had ever been fat. Since leaving his marital home with Harry he had been dirt broke and therefore was pretty much starving anyway, though hid it well. He had always figured having a warmish, dry place to sleep was more important than eating. His mother had taught him that. He wasn't about to contradict something that seemed pretty much good common sense. Food could stave away illness but not like half decentish lodgings could.
What he really wanted to do, was pass out.
NOTES: Sure! Um, sorry about the wait I had overdue posts elsewhere. I don't know whether you want to post again? But I'll post a continuation one soon ^_^
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