ONE; HOLO [ waiting for our ship to come, but our ship's not coming back ]

[deniedthesight.livejournal.com]

The past few days have not been the easiest time in Angela Dodson's life, and today had actually started out as an exception. It had remained an exception until the meeting on the rooftop with John, where he'd given her the Spear of Destiny and asked her to hide it. She wasn't exactly thrilled with the idea of having it in her possession - not only was the object incredibly powerful and potentially dangerous, but it had nearly been used to sacrifice her and bring the son of the Devil into the world - but the idea of the spearhead being kept somewhere so close was somehow worse than holding onto it for a few days. So she'd agreed, taking the spear with her off the rooftop, intent on going back home and getting the first decent night's sleep she'd be having in nearly a week and planning where to hide it first thing in the morning. Maybe she'd even have a bath (because while she was wary of the idea of going anywhere near a pool again, a steaming hot bubble bath still somehow sounded appealing).

Only she doesn't get to do any of this, because as she steps through the doorway of the stairwell that leads to the roof of the building, she finds herself in a large, metallic chamber.

Angela looks around a moment or two, the expression on her face one of utter disbelief before it shifts into one of irritation. She re-wraps the spearhead carefully before tucking it away into her purse (looking a little bit relieved that she's not touching it anymore), bringing out her phone in its place as she reaches behind her back to pull her gun out of its hidden holster. (She knows by now that it won't help much against a demon attack, but she feels safer having this than nothing.)

"This is unbelievable," she mutters to herself before hitting the 'send' button on her phone - she's not sure what John could do to help or how she's going to describe what's just happened, but he's the only one she can think of to call who might know what's going on. It doesn't really matter anyway, since there's not even a dial tone to be heard. She pulls the phone away from her face, frowning deeper before shoving it back into her purse and cocking her gun.

"LAPD. Whoever's behind this, show yourselves, now."

There's no answer. Not even a hint that anyone is around, and more than that, it doesn't look as if anyone has been around, at least not recently. She's not getting a reading on who her captors may be, just other people like her - confused and trapped.

She huffs, frustrated, and then spots something out of the corner of her eye - the tablet, set atop a pedestal. She leans in closer, getting a good look at the screen and what its functions are, but doesn't touch it or pick it up. Until she sees the light that indicates that it's recording, and then she does pick it up, giving it a wary look before she attempts speaking into it.

"Hello?" she tries, not sure whether or not she's expecting an answer (and if she is, who or what she expects is on the other end of the line). "Not that I don't appreciate the vacation," (well, she doesn't, but that's beside the point), "but I'd have preferred to plan it myself. Whatever or whoever you are, I want to be sent back, and failing that, I'd like to know what the hell is going on here."

She sounds more confident than she feels, but she's been well trained not to show fear, especially in situations like this. Setting the tablet back down, she sighs again, pressing her lips together before her face tightens into a bitter smile.

"At least it wasn't through walls this time."