taxonomites | 032 ━ [ visual ] / [ location: somewhere in wilde ].

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032 ━ [ visual ] / [ location: somewhere in wilde ].

Angel had abandoned the hotel after grabbing his sword and stocking his person up on other assorted weapons. The hotel had been home to him for so long, but it wasn't worth defending anymore. No-one that mattered lived there, and the only purpose it served was to be a fixture for memories; some he cared to remember, others he often wished would just stay forgotten - like the faint outline of the point of a pentagram that peeked out from under the couch that had been placed on top of it in a futile attempt to hide it.

He frowned at it, remembering the primordial magic he'd tampered with when he was trying to find a gateway to Quor'toth and the son that had been here in Taxon for a while, but had since been sent home. He was glad Connor wasn't here to deal with any of this chaos, though he knew his kid would be able to handle his own.

Into Wilde he went, tearing down zombies as he made his way towards the home of the person he'd since proclaimed himself the protector of. There was complicated reasoning behind why Angel was currently going deeper into the heart of the areas the zombies now overran, some of which he'd yet to clue himself into, but by the time he arrived on her doorstep, he was already wearing half of what he killed. (One didn't go into a fight expecting to emerge with a spotless wardrobe.)

[ ooc | for various planned shenanigans, but feel free to run into him somewhere in wilde or prod him via visual. the more the merrier! ]

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The confusion on Angel's face shines for a moment when she refrains from lecturing him on how he shouldn't do that to people, like most others do when he pulls stunts like that. He would've questioned her comfort levels, if not for the sudden scent of death and rotting flesh that hits him.

Angel shoves Sookie behind him, rushing forward with an inhuman roar as he grabs the zombie that somehow managed to get into the house by the throat, throwing it back against the wall. "Sword!" He shouts to Sookie, as the thing starts to climb back to it's feet. He holds his hand out, waiting, refusing to move himself out from between the zombie and the fae.

If Sookie's already irritated and Angel tries something like that, he'll get a piece of her mind on whatever else is bothering her under the guise of reminders that sneaking up on people like that is rude and anybody with manners would announce themselves. The rest of the time it's just another part of her life, like Jason's impetuousness or Tara's language or Lafayette's need to make her go red talking in detail about what he did over the weekend.

The zombie makes Sookie scream, but then Angel's shoving her out of the way and yelling for his sword and she just stills for a moment before grabbing it from against the wall. She means to just hand it to him, but the metal feels odd in her hand and that dark and old place inside starts calling. Before she can connect thought to action she's stabbing downwards herself, right through the skull and into the brain with an ease that a human woman of her size shouldn't be able to lay claim to.

Letting go of the hilt, Sookie stumbles back a half step and covers her mouth with one hand. "Oh my Lord, the smell."

Edited 2011-02-17 04:09 (UTC)

The grin that touches Angel's lips would've no doubt made anyone who knew him during his darker, unsouled days (or revival tours) shudder, but he doesn't make any more to cover it with his hands or turn away. Had he been any other person, he might've been taken back by the sudden display, but Angel knows his lore, and whether myth and legend are one hundred percent right or not, he's been half expecting this. If danger and the need to protect one's self bring out power in vampires, demons and other supernatural beings, why not fae?

"On second thought, you hold on to that." The microwave dings and Angel takes a moment to retrieve the bottle of TruBlood, which is promptly pocketed in one of the many in his duster. "Come on, let's go get what you need and get out of here."

Sookie's apparent strength isn't something she dwells on. Other than the time she nearly choked one of the Rattrays to death, it's never really presented itself. What use is something like that when it doesn't make carrying heavy trays any easier? (And, admittedly: it's another thing that makes her other. Sookie's slowly letting herself accept that somewhere in her family tree is something fae, inhuman, but that doesn't make her comfortable with being so herself.)

"I'm doing all right with my shotgun." But she's also clutching the sword tight in her hand still. "All right, fine."

The gathering doesn't take long, largely because Sookie's not careless enough to think a heavy bag will do her any good. She just grabs the book and her jewelry box-- it's empty but for the ring, but Angel doesn't need to know that-- and stows them in a light backpack before nodding. "That's all I needed, thanks."

Angel picks up her shotgun, digging out the keys to the viper - why yes, he brought the car, what was he going to do, run with her in his arms bridal style? (...okay, so if he didn't have the car, he would've done that.) He doesn't like guns, never has, so when the zombies meet them on the porch, blocking the way to the car, Angel uses the rifle like a bat, alternating between beating the zombies off and just-- Sookie, he'll clean do something about the limbs on those chairs over there when the place isn't infested with zombies.

"Go," he tells her, kicking a zombie off the steps. "Now. It's unlocked." ...but just in case, he tosses her the keys.

Sookie winces to see her gun treated like that-- it's a firearm, Angel, not a damn battering ram and you better be certain you're cleaning all that up once this is all over-- but catches the keys handily and hustles for the car without comment. There'll be ample time later to explain why that's no way to treat a good gun.

She nearly makes it into the passenger seat without incident, but something-- smell, sound, the hair on the back of her neck raising-- warns her she's in danger and she whips around, face to face with a zombie. She doesn't even think; just raises a hand and wills it back. Light flares out of her outstretched palm, knocking the thing in front of her a good fifteen feet away before she can even draw a breath.

Lowering her hand and swallowing hard, Sookie breathes out, "Holy shit." It never came like that before, not even with Maryanne.

Godric, attracted by the commotion and the familiar scents and voices, comes into visual range just in time to see Sookie turn, to see the zombie too close. For a moment, his heart leaps into his throat. His mind races, but even at top speed, the zombie might get in a bite before Godric gets there, and Angel is occupied. Eric is behind him, even further from the goal. He'd trusted that Sookie was safe, and now he might be too late.

Then Sookie, brilliant Sookie, takes care of the matter herself. The blast is far more powerful than the one other Godric had been witness to, and it surprises him. Still, he doesn't hesitate. When the zombie lands, skidding on its back, Godric lands next to it, bringing his foot down and crushing the zombie's head in one smooth motion.

And that's the scene Eric arrives to: Godric stamping down on a zombie head and it oozing blood, bone, and brain. Not unsettling in the least, really, especially considering how many zombie's he's already killed himself.

He looks around for a second, taking note of Angel fighting on the porch and Sookie standing by the car. He steps up next to Godric, wondering if he should bother helping Angel. It's why they came after all. Eric had felt Sookie through the blood bond, but Godric and Eric both had heard the other two in the distance at the time. It didn't take any convincing for either of them to immediately head in that direction.

He came to the quick conclusion that Angel could take care of himself, but he wouldn't hesitate to rip the head off of any zombie that got near Sookie. Even if she didn't appreciate or want his help.

Sookie's still trying to catch her breath-- the power doesn't hurt, but it makes her feel stranger, itchy-- when the crack of skull being stomped on fairly echoes around them. Her head jerks up like it's on strings, her whole body tensing; but it's just Godric and Eric, and she relaxes almost immediately.

"What're y'all doin' out here?" Only Sookie Stackhouse scolds ancient vampires like this.

Angel, on the other hand, stays out of it for the time being. Perhaps if it had just been Eric, of whom Angel's never really cared for, he would've stepped in and said something, but Angel has a wicked amount of respect for Godric and trusts that as long as the ancient vampire is near Sookie, no harm will come to her person. Not that Sookie needs the overt amount of protection, as she's shown to be quite capable of handling herself in a number of ways. That's not going to be squashing Angel's compulsive need to play protector, though. He's got something of a complex.

"We're killing zombies," explains Godric, smiling at Sookie, "Eric sensed something was wrong, and we heard your voices not far off, so we thought to come to your aid. I see now it was an unnecessary gesture." And he sounds as if he's rather proud of her for it.

He spares a nod at Angel, pleased to see he's taken it upon himself to act as Sookie's guard.

Eric remains silent while Godric explains their being here. It's good to see his maker excited about the kill again; it's definitely something he's missed. As for Angel, Eric barely spares him another glance for the time being.

Instead, he turns his attention to Sookie, looking her over and making sure she's not actually injured in any way. With this new power of hers, no doubt she can take care of herself, but she's still human, fae blood or not.

"You okay?" he asks, in his usual manner that doesn't reveal any emotion he may or may not be feeling.

"I never would've guessed." Being around Eric is still a sore spot, like poking at a bruise just enough it won't heal; it makes her tone tart like she normally isn't with Godric. She and Eric haven't had much chance to speak-- although, if Sookie's honest she can't lay claim to seeking him out so that's hardly just circumstance-- and it's hard to look at him and not see her porch and everything she thought she knew shattering to pieces with a few sentences. (And he doesn't even remember, if he was telling the truth when they spoke about it, and somehow that makes her even angrier at him. It's illogical and unfair, but nothing she feels about Eric Northman is ever neat and tidy so why start here?) If they were back home Bill and Eric could share their fair portions of the anger she's been holding back; as it is, Eric's just going to have to shoulder what she can't hold back for politeness and peace's sake.

She smiles at Godric, trying to take the sting out of her words. "I'm doin' all right, now. But it's nice of you to come check up on me." She winces a little because now it just sounds like they're at a nice party; but she can't find anything else to say and anyway, the manners are comforting.

What's not comforting is Eric's stare, and she crosses her arms over her chest and raises her chin. "I'm just fine, thank you very much."

Godric resists the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose or throw his hands up. The tension between Eric and Sookie is palpable, and eventually it's going to come to a head. Godric would quite like it if Eric would learn how to apologize with sincerity and Sookie would admit that she finds Eric incredibly attractive. Then they could both have sex and feel mutually better about everything.

Barring that, he'll settle for the two of them not doing anything stupid or distracting each other in the middle of a zombie war zone. Which means pulling Eric back into the fray and sending Sookie on with Angel as quickly as possible.

"If you're well and Angel's with you, then we should be getting back to Faith. She's more than capable, but I'd rather not leave her alone for long."

Eric doesn't flinch at her frosty remark. After their moment on her porch in Bon Temps (which he actually does remember now, thanks to their hamster alien friends), it would be highly unlikely that she'd be anything but. He can't blame her really. He knew what the result would be the moment he spilled the beans on Bill's real intentions. But she had a right to know and if telling her also got rid of Bill, then dealing with her attitude was a small price to pay. "I can see that," he tells her, dryly.

He glances as Godric while he speaks. Ah yes, they did sort of leave Faith by herself, didn't they? And if Godric wanted to get back to her, who was Eric to object? They only came to make sure Sookie was alive and she is, so mission accomplished.

Eric's refusal to rise to the bait makes her cheeks go red; it's easier to be rude to him because he's always trying to get at her, and God only knows she's only in possession of so much patience. And that bastard kissed her like it meant something to him and then locked her up and then followed it up with breaking up her and Bill... well, when this is all over she's going to have a bone or ten to pick with one Mr. Northman.

For now, though, she just nods crisply and steps closer to Angel. "If y'all don't mind, maybe we oughta get off the streets."

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032 ━ [ visual ] / [ location: somewhere in wilde ].

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