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theatrical_muse] 253 - Awesome
Oct. 23rd, 2008 12:00 pm253 - Awesome
It was, in retrospect, a ludicrous idea, I know that now. How I ever got into my head that I was qualified to strike out on my own as a "rogue demon hunter", I've never been sure. Even on my worst days, I was never really that deluded about my physical prowess at the time, no matter what weapons I had at my disposal. (Which, incidentally, consisted of a small one-handed crossbow and a fishing knife.)
But I suppose that decision had less to do with carrying on the good fight even after breaking with the Watchers than it did with freedom.
It isn't a very long drive between Sunnydale and Los Angeles. Depending on the time of day, the traffic conditions and one's propensity for speeding and for aggressive driving, the trip can be made in as little as an hour and a half. Taking the coast highway, though adding at least another thirty minutes of travel time or more, is also a hundred times more scenic. That was the route I took on my motorbike while following my first lead.
Driving at just after sunrise, I pulled to the side of the road to rest my legs. There was nothing in particular around except the hills behind me and the rocks and the sea before me. Waves crashed, and I stood beside my bike, considering the metaphorical road that had brought me there.
Standing before the awesome expanse of the Pacific Ocean and seeing nothing but long, winding open road ahead of me, I knew I had made the right decision. No more Watchers Council. No more willful Slayers. No more disrespectful teenagers. No more Father.
I swung my leg over the bike and revved it, pointing it down the highway and never looking back.
(297)
It was, in retrospect, a ludicrous idea, I know that now. How I ever got into my head that I was qualified to strike out on my own as a "rogue demon hunter", I've never been sure. Even on my worst days, I was never really that deluded about my physical prowess at the time, no matter what weapons I had at my disposal. (Which, incidentally, consisted of a small one-handed crossbow and a fishing knife.)
But I suppose that decision had less to do with carrying on the good fight even after breaking with the Watchers than it did with freedom.
It isn't a very long drive between Sunnydale and Los Angeles. Depending on the time of day, the traffic conditions and one's propensity for speeding and for aggressive driving, the trip can be made in as little as an hour and a half. Taking the coast highway, though adding at least another thirty minutes of travel time or more, is also a hundred times more scenic. That was the route I took on my motorbike while following my first lead.
Driving at just after sunrise, I pulled to the side of the road to rest my legs. There was nothing in particular around except the hills behind me and the rocks and the sea before me. Waves crashed, and I stood beside my bike, considering the metaphorical road that had brought me there.
Standing before the awesome expanse of the Pacific Ocean and seeing nothing but long, winding open road ahead of me, I knew I had made the right decision. No more Watchers Council. No more willful Slayers. No more disrespectful teenagers. No more Father.
I swung my leg over the bike and revved it, pointing it down the highway and never looking back.
(297)
