[[livejournal.com profile] theatrical_muse] 290 - You pass a complete stranger on the str

Jul. 8th, 2009 10:11 am
prodigalwatcher: (Stake At The Ready)
[personal profile] prodigalwatcher
290 - You pass a complete stranger on the street and notice they are crying. What do you do?

I gave her a weapon.

I should probably clarify that, shouldn't I?


During the months I was apart from my friends in Angel Investigations and was busy with, shall we say, opening my own franchise in the same business, one particularly challenging task with which I found myself faced was staffing. As far as I knew, although there were a surprising number of humans in Los Angeles who knew of the existence of vampires and the like, I had already encountered the ones willing to enlist in the fight against such darkness. As persona non grata, those allies were gone and I had to look elsewhere.

My own patrols took on a duality of purpose. Not only was I searching for opportunities to end whatever supernatural threats I could find, I was keeping my eyes open for other like-minded and able individuals who could prove to be of the most use in the war effort.

Occasionally, I would cross paths with someone working "the job" on their own, armed with homemade stakes, sporting and gardening equipment and their own courage. Those were the most precious finds, as they had already made their commitment to the fight, and had, to various extents, proven themselves as capable or trainable. It was a curiosity that although my offer of alliance was usually met with mistrust, it took little to bring these people into the fold.

None of us wants to be alone, you see, especially those of us fighting the fight.

Other times, our ranks were augmented by would-be victims. I recall one night as I and three of my newest associates were tracking a small nest of newborn vampires that had been making a dreadful mess around the outer borders of the USC campus. Turning a corner into an alley-- a terrible cliché, I know, but accurate more often than not-- we spotted two young women being accosted by our four targets.

The vampires had all been young men when turned, and all were festooned with blue and yellow touches. As my associates and I fought, I noted the colours and wondered if these vampires had been made from students of UCLA and had decided to continue the cross-town rivalry in a more deadly fashion.

When only one of the vampires remained intact, my associates held it fast, each with an arm. I readied a stake, then reconsidered. Turning, one of the young women had fled, while the other crouched against the wall, weeping but watching intently.

I held out the stake to her.

With only a moment's hesitation, she rose, took it and drove it into the vampire's chest, turning it to dust.

I handed a card to the girl. "Go back to campus and have yourself checked out by the infirmary. Then call me. There's work to be done."

Two days later, she called. They nearly always did.


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Wesley Wyndam-Pryce

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