taxonomites | 01 | holo | location: sanctuary

Death felt hot, and dark, and loud and silent all at the same time. And it kind of tickled.

It wasn’t over like all the storybooks said it would be. There was no warm wash of air, or pretty clouds or glowing white light and the smiling face of her dead grandfather. It wasn’t even close to falling asleep. It was too bright for that. It was too much pain, too much pain to go gently into that good night. Electricity snaked through the sky, jagged scars ripped through the air and lit her up like a goddamn Christmas tree. So many metaphors, so little time. It was all of these things and more, and Gwen Raiden didn’t have the time to reflect. She didn’t even have time to be dead, apparently.

All of that—betraying Angel and Connor and Nina and Spike (well...okay, she didn't really care about Spike) and the rest, fighting the dragon Cordelia (which just might have been more forthcoming than the real Cordelia), her decision to die the way she always imagined it—all that was snuffed out with her life and now it rushed back. Here she was, in all her glory, surrounded by metal walls and a strange ceiling. She surveyed the close space, breathing hard from that whole noble sacrifice thing which tended to take a lot out of a girl. "Okay,” she said, and the word escaped her wrapped in a big, exhaled breath. “Not gonna lie. I thought heaven would be a little more…Feng Shui.”

And as death faded away like a dream, her body felt real and solid again. There was the hard steel floor underneath her boots, the silken feel of her gloves on her fingers, and finally, the dull pain in every muscle of her body that had been electrified just moments ago. Gritting her teeth and shoving it down and away, where she did not have to dwell on it, she noticed the pedestal in front of her holding a fancy little gadget on it. It looked like something once upon a time she would have been paid billions to steal. She looked at it now with uninterest and unease. “Or…not heaven. Mars, huh? Interesting choice.”

There was no door, no way out and no cool breeze she’d felt just moments ago on the rooftop...

Connor, she thought, struck suddenly with a pang of sadness and guilt that gutted her.

“Okay, I get it!” Her call echoed out to empty walls. This was Wolfram and Hart's doing. And if she had to claw her way out of here, literally striking down every cheap suit in this place to do it, she would. “And not to be dramatic, but I had a thing I was doing with...the dying. Don’t you people have better things to do than stick me in a box? Filing briefs, or something? Not a big, brooding vampire here. Just a normal, law-abiding citizen."

A fib, and not even a subtle one, but she was getting testy. She scratched at her gloved wrist, absentmindedly, and felt something like a bracelet under the fabric. “Sorry I killed your dragons?”

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Again, not one to judge because she'd gotten one too many looks because of the leather thing, not to mention the obvious, but Gwen couldn't help but ask. "What's up with the Phantom of the Opera? Going all secret identity a part of your big plan too?"

There's a slight tone of mocking there, but it's not mean-spirited. She's a little amused, and coupled with this guy's serious paranoia issues, Gwen can't even imagine all the puzzles pieces that need to come together to figure this one out.

They were back where they started, and Gwen was eager to figure out the nooks and crannies of this place. When the car slowed, she didn't move to get out. Yet. It was smart to be cautious. She got that. But his rant shed a lot of light on his whole Beware of the Man campaign, and she just couldn't let it go. "Call me crazy, but something tells me you know a lot about that stuff," she said. "This grassy knoll, conspiracy thing. Am I warm?"

Party wasn't sure what exactly to make of Gwen's comment. Was she making fun of him? Probably, but the redhead's reaction was simply erratic blinking as he tried to figure it out. She didn't seem malicious. Shit, she seemed like one of the few he'd met so far that was actually with it.

"Warm like the fires that wiped Texas off the map," There was a brief half-chuckle that sounded more like Party coughing, though he was nice enough to cover his mouth with the crook of an elbow when the sudden coughing fit got a little too severe.

"Yeah. It's.. a long story. If you're really interested, I'll let you know sometime, Tumbleweed." There it was again--the half-smile--and he tilted his head to the side.

"And just for the record, you're a sneaky type," He guessed and was hoping he guessed right. "You know what it's like to keep your identity a secret."

She . . . actually had nothing to say to that. As far as she knew, Texas was still there. Never been there herself, but she was pretty sure it was doing its cowboy thing. Then again, if L.A went to hell? Who's to say the whole country didn't, the whole world?

She almost thought he was going to tell her for a second after almost coughing up that lung, and there was a flicker of disappointment in her eyes, but she let it go.

"Maybe," she conceded, shrugging mysteriously and 100% proving his point. "Depends. If the price is right, sometimes its better to drop the Clark Kent and be . . . " Normal? A freak? A superhero? "Whatever you are."

Maybe? Totally. Party resisted the urge to pat himself on the back. Apparently his intuition hadn't left him, and he was still rocking the gut instinct angle of things.

He tilted his head to the side, taking in what she had to say carefully. Past experiences, maybe? "Hey." And his voice was slightly softer this time, as if he wanted to say something else. Perhaps something different, other then the light shrug.

"You've got a Killjoy on your side. That means guano in your world but over in Battery City? That means a lot. You're gonna be fine, Tumbleweed."

The lingo went right over poor Gwen's head, but she can roll with it. She got the gist, and it wasn't every day someone actually wanted to be on her team. It kind of figured that she'd find the weirdest person she'd ever met--well, human anyway--but that was kind of her style, wasn't it? Freaks attracting freaks. They always found each other in the crowded lunchroom.

"A place like this? Superpowers might actually go a long way." She looked right at him for a quick moment and tugged a little on her gloves, a tic so natural she was hardly aware of it anymore. She put her hand on the handle of the door and twisted it, stepping out and speaking through the open window. Home, sweet home, right? "Longer than a mask and a melted can of dog food, anyway. As long as you've got a freak like me on your side? I think you'll be fine, too."

Those are her last words, Party Poison. Take them or leave them. But her eyes look like they may be considering whether or not she might've found a friend tonight.

The door closed, sending the whole car shaking. Gwen could have gently pushed it and it would have done the same--it's a piece of crap car, but it's Party's home.

Party decided right then and there--it was the look in the eyes--that maybe Gwen was one of the few people he could trust. She had exactly what it took to last out in the zones, after all. Spunk and smarts.

Something came over his face and for a brief flicker of a moment there was an actual smile. Whether it was imagined or not it was hard to tell because Party's jaw was set again, nodding slightly.

"Watch each other's backs, even. I'd offer you a place to stay, but.." he motioned to his car, leaning back in the seat.

"Take care, tumbleweed. Keep your gun close, keep your boots tight, and die with your mask on if you've got to."

01 | holo | location: sanctuary | ARRIVAL

[location: sanctuary]

[location: sanctuary]

[location: sanctuary]

[location: sanctuary]

[location: sanctuary]

[location: sanctuary]