xviii [ location: hyperion hotel ] / [ accidental visual ].

[undoing.livejournal.com]

This whole mess with the ghosts, the visions and the readings honestly didn't bother Angel as much as it did others. He'd been half-expecting something of a similar magnitude to happen sooner or later. The glitches, bombs and kidnappings aside, Taxon had been relatively quiet and trouble-free - too trouble free, as much as he enjoyed the peace and quiet of the place. An excessive amount of silence never boded well for anyone. Thought the ghosts, to him, were more annoying than they were frightening. He'd seen worse, done worse to people and mostly just wanted them to stop popping up and fading away at random.

It was distracting.

There was something, however, about this particular spook that made him pause halfway through the lobby and turn back towards the flight of stairs to his left that he had just descended. And if he'd been dependent on oxygen like he had been in hell while demoted to a mere human, his breath would have caught in his throat at the sight of who was standing at the bottom of those steps.

"K-Katherine?" He ventured, wearily at first and then more boldly: "Kathy? An bhfuil go bhfuil tú?" For a moment, he forgot about the situation with the ghost and allowed himself to be fooled by the apparition of his little sister. "Deirfiúr óg beag, tá sé curtha ó aois a bhfuil mé--"

It's there that the moment is shattered and he's brought crashing, hard, back down to reality. It had been ages, indeed. Ages since he'd killed her. She looked so obviously deceased and decayed - like a corpse - now that he really looked at her. The image of her laying dead at his feet came rushing back to him, her throat ripped out and her blood fresh and sweet on his tongue-- It's too much.

Angel swallowed roughly and slammed his eyes shut as he took a step back. When he opened them, the ghost of his long-dead sister was gone. He all but stumbled over to the steps and collapsed upon them into a heap, needing to sit down before his knees gave way and he fell over. "A Dhia. Cén fáth go raibh mé-- Cad a raibh sí riamh..."

[ ooc ; irish → english translations | "an bhfuil go bhfuil tú?" = "is that you?" // "deirfiúr óg beag, tá sé curtha ó aois a bhfuil mé--" = "dearest little sister, it has been ages since i have--" // "a dhia. cén fáth go raibh mé-- cad a raibh sí riamh..." = "god. why did i-- what did she ever..." ]

[ visual ] | [ location: casa lehane ] if wellness is this what in hell's name is sickness

[stacked]

Faith has been in Taxon for nearly a year, now. As the date creeps up, she's been withdrawing little by little; Connor's staying in her place, sure, but he can read the vibes and let her keep her space. Even the trips to see Godric and Eric have dropped off, because there's the upswing in maturity she's working with and talking about her shit. One is a work in progress, the other isn't her thing and never will be.

So when her tablet helpfully clicks over to visual, it films Faith's lower back for a moment, the sheets tangled around her legs. She hasn't been sleeping well lately, her dreams restless and weird. So when she rolls over and sees the ghost sitting on the side of her bed, she assumes it's more dreaming.

"Don't have time for this shit." Her mutter is audible but slurred, and she rolls over, exposing the edge of her underwear. "Sleeping."

It only takes a moment for her to wake up fully, though, Slayer instincts rocketing her into consciousness. "...Boss?" She almost sounds hopeful. No response, and her expression goes shattered, nakedly heartbroken before hardening again. "What, the First wasn't enough? Back the hell off me and take off his face."

When the ghost doesn't respond she scrambles out of bed, her movements uncharacteristically jerky and awkward. "I said get the hell out of my apartment." The beer bottle that crashes against the wall has no effect, the Mayor's placid expression doesn't change, his hand still reaches out to her. "Get the fuck out, now."

Another beer bottle, and her tablet shows her face growing panicked as the Mayor crawls closer, Faith scooting back as fast as she can to stay out of reach. "You're not him." It's quiet, desperate, to herself, and the feed closes on her slamming a fist into the ground hard enough her dresser rattles and repeating it, even more quiet and desperate. "You're not him."

002: Down to Business [Visual]

[allthatlife.livejournal.com]

Martha, wearing a white coat and a businesslike expression, switched on the tablet to address the citizens of Taxon. She was sitting behind the desk in her surgery, which she'd opened just in time for whatever was about to hit the city. It wasn't a particularly elaborate building, but it was well stocked and she had a lot of experience when it came to treating people in unusual or unpleasant circumstances. She was as prepared as she would ever be.

"Hi," she began, her voice crisp and clear. "I'm Martha Jones. Doctor Martha Jones. I think we all know by now that something - something bad - is about to happen to the city ..."

She liked to think that it was impossible to tell how many times she'd rehearsed this speech. She'd been on the stage with Shakespeare, for goodness sake. She could definitely talk to a little metal device.

"I've not been here long, but it looks like I'm the only medical professional in the city. I've just opened a surgery in Central, but if you need me for anything, you can contact me on the tablet at any time. I've got a lot of experience when it comes to working in the field."

She had learned how to operate on little or no sleep during the Master's year in power, too. Despite her best efforts, and the best efforts of both Tom and Mickey, she'd never managed to break the habit.

"And Kaylee? Lorne said I should speak to you about supplies for the bunkers you're building?"

017: ACCIDENTAL VISUAL/LOCATION: MAX'S APARTMENT ROOFTOP (we are, we are the youth of the nation)

[aregulargirl.livejournal.com]

Max is on top of her apartment building, as she typically is at this time of night. Her legs hang over the side of the building as she watches the city, a troubled expression on her face. There's a lot going on in the city that she doesn't understand, things going on with her friends that she can't help with, or heard about too late to help with. It eats at her, makes her feel guilty and inadequate, makes her second guess herself and her actions. She's here partly to reflect and partly to plan, figure out what she and everyone else can do.

Something moves in the corner of her vision and she frowns, turning and standing to find out what it is - she's pretty sure that she's the only one living here who frequents this place -

And what she sees makes her chest clench and her blood run cold.

( who's to blame for the lives that tragedies claim?/no matter what you say it won't take away the pain/that I feel inside/I'm tired of all the lies/don't nobody know why/it's the blind leadin' the blind//guess that's the way that the story goes/will it ever make sense?/somebody's gotta know/there's gotta be more to life than this/there's got to be more to everything i thought exists )