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All good things... [09 Nov 2005|11:34am]

[ mood | bitchy ]

Dad called. Told me that he had been borrowing money from his company. I know he had every intention of paying it back, though. Apparently, his company doesn't see it that way.

Dad lost his job and is getting sued. Daddy called me this morning and told me the news. Told me that he can't afford to support me anymore. Said that I needed to take this semester off and help sort out the family assets. I cannot believe him!?! And right before the BIG dance? This sucks. Royally.

Therefore, I am dropping out and letting Liz, Grae and Peyton take over. I haven't told them. Guess they'll figure it out.

But I WILL BE BACK. This will be done. I WILL BECOME A GOD! PROMISE...

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Leaving town... for good... [09 Nov 2005|11:06am]

[ mood | cheerful ]

My grandmother called me today. It literally broke my heart to hear her. She said that she wishes I would come home. I talked to Astra about it, and she told me that it seemed like the thing to do.

So, I packed up my bags, kissed my motel room goodbye, and checked out of Sunnydale. Time to get my life back in order. You know, go to school. Get a decent job. Get a wife. Kids. The whole enchilada.

Gonna miss this place.

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The Arrival of Solomon the Wise [08 Oct 2005|02:28pm]

[ mood | curious ]

I find myself at odds with my surroundings. This place is both terrible and bright. The sun
beats upon my brow, the heat and humidity sap my strength, and the very inhabitants disgust and
intrigue me. So different from the shady vales of Arkham to which I have become
accustomed, where shadows, cold, and silence cling to one another to create an air
that is ripe with secrets, whispers, and portents of ill omens. The people of
this strange land are even stranger still. They float through their existence
with cares only for luxuries, hollow niceties, and an eye for the future whose gaze
doesn't even pierce or consider the day after tomorrow.
Ah, ignorance. It truly is a paradise. And those few who have come to know and experience the preternatural miasma that surrounds this hovel will, no doubt, bury their heads in the sand
with all the intelligence of a beast that believes that if his
eyes behold no evil that he shall suffer no evil.

Sunnydale. Even it's name is an obvious attempt to hide and distract from the true nature
of this place. I find it to be utter insanity. It's as if they have taken it upon
themselves to conceal the negative energies that surround them with bright colors and
light heartedness yet, at the same time, clinging to their feigned belief that there is
nothing to be afraid of. They toil, laugh, live, and breathe as if there was nothing
out of the ordinary.

But that, truly, is what separates the masses from the Wise. We who walk with
open eyes to all of the horrors of the Earth and do no divert our gaze simply
from fear of what could be lingering in
the dark.

My abode is currently a hotel that the University has reserved for me. The duration
of my stay will be determined by my findings. I was forced to enspell the security
officers at both departure and arrival just to hold onto my Staff. Being more his
wish than mine, Asmodel is flying here on his own. The distance for him to travel
is enormous and wearisome but I have no doubt he will arrive
in due time.

Until then, most of my work and research will have to be postponed. However, this night
I will dawn the ghostly Dimming and walk unseen among the shadows and those foul
beasts that prowl the night. After meditating on the waves of energy that emanate
from this area I have concluded that they are central to the High School.
Perhaps a visit to this location will prove insightful. If not, then I'm sure
a walk in the night air will be a comfort, nonetheless.

[Open to characters near the HS who have senses and/or sight that can pierce
a spell like the Dimming, which makes it's caster appear even less than the
faintest ghost]

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Home [07 Sep 2005|04:15pm]

[ mood | curious ]

Often it seems that journeys of discovery end where they began: at the point of origin. Home. The blood of the Sire beckons, and the call must be answered.

Beats the hell out of rummaging around Seattle... Portland... Taos, wondering the entire time if there's more to life than this. Unlife. You know what I mean. Sure, wreaking mayhem and havoc is fun. Draining the lifeblood from as many unsuspecting people as you can get your fangs on, and scaring others by doing the stalker thing in dark alleys, watching them practically piss themselves as they try to get away. But it seems like there should be more, especially when you come from the Aurelian line. From what I understand, it used to be an heritage to be proud of.

I'm not so sure anymore.

I believe I should find out more about it, and the place to start is almost certainly with my Sire. It's been several months since I've seen her in all her dark beauty and considerable insanity. I wonder if she will welcome the prodigal home with open arms?

[Open to Dru]

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School's Back With a Vengence [08 Aug 2005|09:57pm]

[ mood | annoyed ]

Damn. School's startin' again. It's like a party just got started, and I'm already wakin' up with a hangover.

...speaking of party, there must be a few good ones this week...must make a note...

So, school's back. This year will be better than usual. I am a senior, at a really good school. I've got three of the best friends/enemies a girl can have. And last but definately not least, this year I am president of my sorority, which if I may add is a drastic improvement since last year's president, Bitchy McBitch Lisa Rowgan. Should have had her maimed...

Excited about this years rush. I'm sure the gals and I will make this fun on the little shits coming in this year. Can't wait!

Going with the gals tonight to a psychic. I totally don't believe a word of that shit, but then again, it's something to do other than prepping for school.

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Something Corporate [04 Aug 2005|08:37am]

[ mood | suspicious ]

Somehow, the effect of a few days' hard-earned vacation is lessened when one gets back to the office to discover that she's been assigned scut work. I received a confidential memo from the Partners instructing me to keep a discreet eye on Kennedy; it appears she's stirring up trouble with certain members of Angel Investigations as well as some of the city's demon population. You would think the girl would know better than to draw unwanted attention our way. I have much more important things to attend to than babysitting a petulant, grand-standing brat, but my only option at this point is to clench my jaw, smile and say, Certainly, I'd be happy to.

Why exactly does Christian seem to be exempt from duties of this nature? As near as I can tell, he doesn't do a great deal these days aside from sitting in his office and delegating tasks to Charles and the other underlings who are forced to deal with him. There's something peculiar going on with him, and I'm determined I'm going to find out what. Perhaps it will be something I can use against him.

I'm a firm believer in the end justifying the means. Always have been, always will be.

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Well, gosh! [05 Jul 2005|03:15am]

[ mood | chipper ]

"Well, gosh!"

Not exactly the most inspiring of last words, wouldn't you say? Not exactly a phrase begging to go down in history as a particularly affecting epitaph?

And that whole day...well, not really my most shining moment.

But you put it behind you and move on. Dreams are good, and big dreams are better, but sometimes you have to take stock of your situation, re-assess, and move on.

The time between now and then has been...well, "fuzzy" is a good word. Not unlike that feeling you get after you've partied a bit too hard...though you kids out there, do as we say and not as we did when it comes to having fun, all right?

But I'm back now. Just goes to show the value of planning ahead...

...of course, how was I supposed to plan ahead for waking up naked and shaking like a leaf in the wind in some valley near the Grand Canyon?

Thanks to some of those helpful park ranger folks, though, I'm on my way back home. Got some cash in my pocket -- not to mention a pocket and a whole set of clothes, too -- and a decent enough car. Have to get a new car pretty soon, though. The park rangers in the trunk of this one will really hurt the trade-in value.

Note to the wise: Always keep your sense of humor, even when things look their bleakest.

Ah, yes, home. Sunnydale U.S.A. It's a new lease on life, thanks to my new friend. Time for new goals. New ideas. New ways to kill annoying little girls...and then kill them again. And again.

And maybe even reconnect with my Faith. If I'm here, then so is she...which gives me a bigger warm fuzzy than all the apocalypse put together.

Yessirree...new lease on life. Fantastic new things coming up on the horizon. Can't wait to get started...

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Letter to Oz [04 Jun 2005|09:55pm]

[ mood | calm ]

Daniel Osbourne
c/o Angel Investigations
Hyperion Hotel
Los Angeles, CA

Hey. Well, here I am in Las Vegas, and is this place ever hoppin' all the time. I'm not so sure I like it. It's real distractin', and there's no room to hear your own thoughts. I always wanted to see it, though. I never left California before-- bet you didn't know that. I don't think I'll be stayin' here too much longer.

My Ma useta say I should see the Southwest. Well, she did before she got too deep into the bottle to wanna get out. Probably what she meant was the desert, sunrises, sunsets, cacti. I'm sure I'll see a lot of that before I'm done; I already have a couple places in mind.

Just thought I'd check in with you and see how things were goin'. We were all at B's so long it seems kinda weird to be all by myself. Maybe it'll be a good thing. I dunno.

I miss you.


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New Girl in the Graveyard [28 Apr 2005|09:58pm]

[ mood | restless ]

The Restfield Cemetary was one of the largest in Sunnydale; Although certainly not the oldest, that distinction belonged to certain Indian Burial Grounds, and a few unmarked shallow plots just outside the city limits... Of the cemetaries still in use, Restfield was Samantha's favorite. Sure, the Du Lac crypt was broken into so much that Grandpa joked it should have a drive-thru, but all told it was nicely landscaped, quiet, and not too New Age-y- which was a real problem for the industry here in Southern California. Okay... there was the pyramid in the southern corner, but that was about it.

Samathna was using the graves to navigate, in the gathering dusk the place was begining to look differnt than it did during the day. Samantha, in fact no one in her family, ever set foot in a Sunnydale graveyard after sunset alone. They'd buried too many of the town's secrets in these fields to belive that it was worth the risk.

"Benjamin Murphy, 1933-1997. Heat stroke... Bethany White. Beloved Mother. 1941-2001. Cancer." she read the names to herself, usng former clients to navigate. "Marcie MacDonald. 1978-2005. Neck rupture... and a high risk client, according to Dad. A vampire-to-be according to my Watcher, and plain sense."

Samantha leaned on the gravestone opposite Marcie's plot. Sunset was still a bit off, she flicked on her iPod, selected a track from 'Otello' and began to sing softly with the chorus.

Open to any and all in the cemetary.

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Anniversary, schmanniversary... [27 Apr 2005|11:50pm]

[ mood | cranky ]

I don't really see the point in this sensitive namby-pamby "share our feelings" crap. Nobody wants to know about news reporters! They just want the news! Unless the reporter becomes the news, in which case they want pictures of them eating their cousin's ear or something.

But if that's what everybody wants, fine. You want to know about me? Goodie. Sit down, shut up, and pay attention. And no dozing off.

My name is G. Gordon Godwin. Want to know what the "G" stands for? Tough. I was born...ha! Like I'm telling you people how old I am. Our family was poor. My father worked four jobs just so we could call ourselves poor. We ate dirt and liked it. In fact, I still eat dirt, though my wife calls it meat loaf.

I found that I loved to dig up dirt on people. Not to eat it, just to dig it up. Affairs, scandals, murders, you name it, I found out everything about it. Of course, no one listens to you when you're a kid, so a lot of that stuff stayed covered up. But I got a lot of free candy and magazines to keep me quiet. So I learned early on about the awesome power of bribery.

Worked my way through college and hated every minute of it. That's the way it is when you're smarter than everyone else, including the teachers. Genius is never appreciated. Probably why they failed me miserably every chance they had.

After college, I went to work for a major metropolitan paper. I won't say which one, but it wasn't a rag like this. It had "the" and "times" in the title, and that's all you get. I worked my way up from the mail room, where I swept up after the lowlifes who sorted the mail. Anything I could do to get ahead, I did. I was determined to be able to pay for my own hot water.

I'd been with the paper for about ten years when I met a woman in the cafeteria. She served the pudding and Jell-O, though she said it was soup and lunchmeat. Our eyes locked, and we knew it was lust at first sight. Then more things locked, and the next thing you know, we're getting hitched in Vegas over the weekend while praying her father didn't find the pregnancy test she used.

After a few more years as a beat reporter, I happened on an ad for managing editor at the Chronicle. The pay wasn't any better and the journalism was sketchy at best. Stories about vampires and werewolves and things that go bump in the night. Goodie. But the former owner was a notorious drunk, so I just scribbled down the ingredients from a box of Bisquick and handed that in as my resume. I got the job.

About six weeks after that, he died. His kidneys were failing, his liver was the size of a shriveled fig, and he had more cholesterol than a bucket of lard. He was killed by a runaway bus down by the docks. We got pictures. In his will, he left the Chronicle to his secretary, but she'd been dead for seventeen years. A little white-out later, I was owner and managing editor. I gave myself a raise.

The end.

What you were expecting some gooey self-help happy ending? Get outta here. Show's over. Get back to work!

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Reporter Profiles, Part I [27 Apr 2005|11:45pm]

[ mood | informative ]


This special feature is brought to you by the second anniversary of slayer_tales. We thought our readers might enjoy a glimpse into the varied and sundry personalities of our Chronicle reporters.

Image hosted by Photobucket.com Tawny Sinclair has been with the Chronicle for the past two years. She hails from Intercourse, PA, where she grew up on a duck farm in Amish country. She moved to Los Angeles as an aspiring actress/model and after several unfortunate experiences with the casting couch, came to work for us here in Sunnydale where she spends most of her time in the copy room with the male reporters -- I fail to see the distinction somehow, but that's just me..

Fun Facts
Real First Name: Hilda
Favorite Saying: "Whatever, when's break time again?"
Future Career Aspiration: Hand model for QVC

Image hosted by Photobucket.com Barbie Johnston has been with the Chronicle for the past ten months. She was born and raised in Louisville, KY as a minister's daughter. At the tender age of seventeen she began working at the OctoPussy, a local strip club, and was disowned from her family. She made her way across the country to California with dreams of adult-film stardom; however, after being cast in such gems as 'Hot Chicks With Chainsaws' and 'The Sumo Wrestler's First Gang-Bang', she reconsidered her career path and joined our staff at the Chronicle. Yes, she certainly likes staffs. *cough* She continues to moonlight at the Solid Plutonium Club in L.A.

Fun Facts
Favorite Food: Water and rice cakes (she's kidding, right?)
First Kiss: Age 7, Tommy Bryson behind the church fellowship hall
Most Recent Kiss: Ten minutes ago, D'Angelo in the copy room

Image hosted by Photobucket.com D'Angelo Tyrone Brown is the most recent addition to our illustrious staff; he has been in the Chronicle's employ for three months. He grew up in the 'hood of Detroit, MI, where he was the youngest son in a family of seventeen children. He dropped out of school at the age of twelve and was first arrested at age fourteen for stealing a car and hanging pink and black fuzzy dice over the rearview mirror. We're not certain if the arrest was for the grand theft auto or the dice, and the only comment D'Angelo will make on the matter is "Fo'sheezy, word up, yo!" He is the self-proclaimed "pimp daddy" of the Chronicle staff and if there's a woman here he hasn't slept with, I'm not sure who that'd be, and his literary efforts continue to delight us although most of the time we have no clue what he's talking about.

Fun Facts
Pounds of Gold Worn Around Neck: Ten
Number of Tattoos: Eighteen that are visible (do NOT ask about the ones that aren't visible, but I hear there are at least four more of those. Just hearsay you understand. Not that I've seen them for myself or anything. Nope. Nuh-uh. No way. Didn't happen and anyone who says it did is lying.)

Kent Clarkson has been the Chronicle's investigative reporter since June 2003. In that time, he has broken several key stories for the Chronicle. He...umm...well, he gets up promptly at 6:45 each morning and dutifully eats a bowl of fruit and a bran muffin before heading to work. He's never been late, nor does he make typos. And to the best of our knowledge, he doesn't even own so much as a pair of roller skates. We don't really know how he gets the stories he does. It kind of freaks us out. We stay away from him as much as possible. He's so bland it's frightening.

Fun Facts
Favorite Food: rhubarb pie
Hobbies: stamp collecting, bird-watching, and making rubber band balls
Favorite Word: "swell"

Well! We hope you've enjoyed this special second anniversary feature. Ta! I have an appointment in the copy room.

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OOC [27 Apr 2005|09:31am]

[ mood | excited ]

Happy Second Birthday, slayer_tales!!!

Date created: 2003-04-27 13:18:36

First entry posted in community journal:

Tara McClay (shy_witch) wrote in slayer_tales,
@ 2003-04-28 16:19:00

Original Members Still in the 'Verse:


Original Member Returned to our Fold of Sinister Attraction:


We have 15 current muns with 2 inactive, and 59 characters.
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[27 Mar 2005|10:22am]

Sparks of electricity emit in the Summers dining room, followed by a gust of wind which billows scant pieces of paper across the room, gradually a whirlwind forms, the electricity like tendrils reaching across the room, licking at the walls. A ball of light appears as a pinprick, the source of all this madness, and grows at an exponential rate, until six feet far and wide, above the dining room table. A feminine screaming is heard before a body comes through the portal, sight of a blue robe as she skitters across the table onto the floor. And just as soon as the woman appeared, the madness stopped, and silence followed...
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[24 Mar 2005|08:42pm]

[ mood | distressed ]

Oh shit, oh shit! It's the full moon and Jordy's out there...somewhere. Scott and I just barely got away, but an old beat up car is a hell of a lot better than a tree in the case of a werewolf attack. Scott was driving pretty erratically, probably shaking about as much as I was, and swearing a lot under his breath. He calmed down a little when we got back into town, and started asking questions that I SO didn't know how to answer. I gave him directions to Dawn's house, and she came running out with the tranq gun as soon as I told her what was up.

It was when I told Scott we had to go back and shoot the monster with the tranqs that he got pissed. Can't blame him, really, if I didn't know it was Jordy, I sure wouldn't be going back to try to tranq him. We argued for a minute, and finally he tossed me the keys and said, "You're freakin' nuts. Not that I don't like that in a girl, but I'd like to keep my 'nads intact. Try not to total it, okay?" and he walked off.

So I drove back to the motel, still pretty shaky, while Dawn armed the tranq gun like she knew what she was doing. The parking lot of the motel was empty--Eric had disappeared, too. So now we're just cruising the roads in the area, looking for any sign of an attack. I have no idea which way he went or how far he could have gotten by now.

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[24 Mar 2005|05:50pm]

[ mood | curious ]

The odd young man calling himself Romeo who interrupted my time location spell last week called this afternoon. He sounded just as odd on the phone as he had in person, and only vaguely seemed to remember that I had requested he come close to the full moon for his binding spell. As it is tomorrow night, I'd say that's cutting it a bit close, but once I have several drops of his blood I shall have an effective werewolf ward in place. Always like to cover my own backside.

He said he intends to bring his "Juliet" by to be married today, bless his poor, addled mind. Well, I dug up a fairly simple binding spell if they both insist. It does require a bit of actual magic, but he is paying me after all--may as well put on a good show. Still think the lad's rather a fool to settle upon one girl at such a young age, but who am I to judge impetuous youth? I certainly did things fully as stupid when I was that age.

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Buffy's party, part the third [01 Feb 2005|07:40pm]

[ mood | frustrated ]

...the hell...?

That thing...it got all shiny, and people were passing it around...it was one of Buffy's birthday presents. All I know was that I felt somebody push me, just before the mother of all flashbulbs went off...

When I could see again, half the party was missing.




I couldn't help it, I lashed out, punching the wall in frustration, before helping Dawn back up. The big flashy knocked most everybody for a loop.

And it stole Buffy.


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[29 Jan 2005|10:55pm]

[ mood | ditzy ]

A late birthday party with everyone I've known and loved (mkay, that might be a strong term for some people present)? Is seriously great. Especially 'cause everyone's actually not getting into a huge brawl and hanging out and enjoying themselves. I found out Tara was behind the whole thing, and seriously, she's gotta be the sweetest housemate I have.

Sorry Dawnie, the fights over whose sweater is whose does put you out of the running.

Um, me and Faith found a bottle of rum in the kitchen (along with half the party!) and there's a slight chance I'm a little tipsy at the moment. But hey, semi-late birthday girl, cut me some slack, huh? Might have been the sight of Spike and Angel actually peacefully coexisting that threw me over the edge. Well, and the *squee* incredibly awesome weekend at the spa with my best friend prezzie that Riley gave me!

So, Anya seems to be really anxious for me to open presents, which, y'know, as long as they don't include an arm in a box? I'm all for!

Is that Ethan Rayne talking to Giles??? God, I'd like to kick that guy's ass!

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[29 Jan 2005|05:34pm]

[ mood | confused ]

Finally, a week without anything bizarre going down--and I can't believe I just said that. Bad Buffy! But seriously, all week I was half-expecting stalker Sly to come jumping out of the bushes at me after class again or something. But nope, just school, a couple of shifts at the Magic Box--Anya took off and left me alone again, but it was much slower so I think I handled receipts and stuff correctly this time.

Dawn seems to be doing better after her latest ordeal, at least she doesn't look quite as jumpy as she did the first few days. God, I wish there was some way I could keep her from getting used as a pawn in this stuff, but short of sending her to live with Dad, I'm not seeing it.

Anyway, it's been slow enough today at work that I was able to get some studying out of the way (not sure Anya appreciated it, though!) I could've sworn Will and Tara had something up their sleeves before I left the house this morning, but who knows, maybe they were just planning to get cuddly after I left? Anyway, I think I'll see if Dawnie wants to get a movie tonight or something, we need some sister time.

*Arrives at her front door and sees the house is dark, and a little too quiet. Enters the house and feels around for the nearest weapon--an axe leaning against the wall in the dining room. Swings as the lights come on, only to see a roomful of almost everyone she knows. Including people she doesn't exactly like...is that Harmony in the back with Angel and all his A.I. buds?*

Wow, probably a good thing I didn't take anyone's head off. Hi, guys, what's up? Another apocalypse?

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[28 Jan 2005|11:53am]

[ mood | distressed ]

</b></a>I see how it is.
I am down with the word on the street.
First time something happens and who gets looked at with the wierd supicious finger?
me. Thats who.

Jonathan cornered me the other day. wanted to know if I had anything to do with the strange feeling that woke him up. As If!  My powers are still locked up thanks to that stupid spell we did he talked me into and those Freaky witch ladies. *brrrrrrr* at least I'm not a toad. At least he tried to pretend he was concerned.</font></font>

He's been spending all his time with his new girlfriend anyway. He didn't even come back to the appartment last friday. He said he fell asleep watching Green Fried Tomatoes. right.
warren's off building roboto-girl or whatever.

Everyone's always too busy to game.
I can't even think about this anymore...
I'm too upset.
I need to bake.

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[19 Jan 2005|03:11pm]

[ mood | excited ]

Private thoughtsCollapse )

*Picks up a clipboard and looks over the roster of students who have signed up for the club. Looks up expectantly as they begin to filter into the room.*

Welcome! Come in, come in. Wow, we have a big group here, let's all get to know one another, shall we? And then we can get on to the business of picking a play for our Spring Production.

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