To live simple and honest [entries|friends|calendar] Nathan Rhames [ website | Birthright: A Whedonverse RPG ] [ userinfo | greatestjournal userinfo ] [ calendar | greatestjournal calendar ]

rooftops [17 Oct 2006|10:33pm] It’s the same reason that doctors don’t diagnose themselves. The same train of thought behind psychiatrists who go to others in their own profession for help, instead of self evaluation and medication. Even on make-over reality shows, Stacy and Clinton have other people that pick out their wardrobe. It’s not for a lack of knowledge, experience, or intelligence. There simply exists an inherent invalidity in looking into one’s own circumstances, and trying to see the big picture. When you’ve dug a twenty foot hole in the ground, one would find it challenging at best to stand in the middle of the hole and have a vantage point that allowed them to see all around the hole. But there Nathan Rhames stood, as close to the Wolfram & Hart building as he could be without setting off any alarms, visible or other. For the past two days, visions had burst through his memory, leaving more questions than answers. But through it all, one variable had remained constant: the Las Vegas branch of Wolfram & Hart. While there had not been any sort of news release, Nathan’s abilities gave him the access to individual minds, to pick through memories as he saw fit. However, there were so many minds, that finding correct information that resembled any sort of sense was proving to be a frustratingly slow task. "Anger has found itself a most unexpected home..." Although two such beings would, in an instant, know of one another's presence; the elements reacting with temporary conflict as auras of opposing polarities intersected and merged, only to settle down several moments later, it was Elfleda's voice from behind which spoke its truth. "This is not the only recent example of its favoring you, Nathaniel. Not the only time you have preferenced judgment in place of pity. In the absence of compassion, I wonder... Have you now found yourself forsaken, too?" Nathan knew of her presence a few moments before he heard her voice speak, it’s soft and feminine tone making it’s way through the space between them and falling upon his ears. He was slightly agitated at the entire world right now, in the midst of all of his unanswered questions that continued to remain elusive. But instantly, a question came to his mind that made him temporarily forget his current mission. Why does your enemy come for a social visit? ( ”Because ) reply

of the strongest [28 Aug 2006|10:55am] I see people on the worst day of their life. I've heard all different versions and ideas on my kind. Preachers, in their Sunday morning services, paint me as a warrior, standing on the edge of heaven's boarder with a drawn sword, ready to strike down all of the evil, immoral people of the world. One time, albeit a long time ago, I sat through a Hellfire and Brimstone sermon, and by the end of it even I was a little afraid of my kind. A soulless, devine being, sent to do the horrible will of an angry God. I wish, at times, that it were true. The part about angels not having souls. It would make parts of my existence exponentially easier. Ten minutes ago, I fulfilled an assignment I was given. This is not a job that any angel ever takes pleasure in, but it is one that has fallen upon our shoulders to perform. So be it. I arrived early at the intersection of Revere and Balzar; for a few moments I enjoyed the fact that no one could see me in my higher state of being. Think of a time in your life when you knew you were about to witness something terrible, and there was no way out of it. Sometimes, it's nice to be left alone to my thoughts. It all ended, however, with the terrible sound of steel wrapping itself around a concrete pole. My thoughts were shattered like the thousands of pieces of glass that sparkled in the air for a few long seconds before chorusing their sounds as they crashed into the street below. Shattered, like the lives of the three people in a 2003 Ford Taurus. I see people on the worst day of their life. Dave, the driver, lives the kind of ordinary life that most people would kill for. Barely pulls in six figures, loves Tuesday night bowling, and the two other people in the car. Kim, front passenger, graduated in the top three percent of her law school. Three days later, she found out she was pregnant. She gave up her dream career to raise her only child. She’s never seen the inside of a courtroom since her internship. Ashley, the only back passenger. She turns twelve next week. But all that matters to her right now is that she’s the only conscious person in a car that’s on fire. A small group of witnesses have already gathered around, but most of them are too scared to do anything. I touch two young men on the shoulders, though the never feel it. Instead, they spring into action, trying to drag out the family trapped in the car. I wouldn’t send them if I didn’t know that they would be safe. From beside me, a weak female voice asks a heartbreaking question. “Is…that me?” Most of the time, the separation of body and spirit are too jarring, too confusing, for anyone to be able to form words. But standing beside me, the woman who just died is watching herself, and her family, being drug from her burning car. Usually, I don’t answer. It’s terrible, I admit, but the silence allows for the spirit to stay in a state of placidness. It’s for their own good, but it doesn’t feel like it to me. I can only imagine what it must be like to see your physical self, void of life, from the third person vantage point. It’s not something I’ll ever experience for the many long years that I exist. I begin to start the transport from this plane into the next, when I realize that Ashley’s been pulled from the car, and is staring right at her mother and me. I know that she doesn’t possess the right set of sense to be able to see us, but she is staring, and her mother is staring back. Sometimes, things don’t happen the way they are meant to. I’m not sue I should admit that, but experience has made a wiser being out of me. Kim walks silently over to her standing daughter. The young girl doesn’t adjust focus, doesn’t look up, and doesn’t do anything. This is actually a guess on my part, but I think she can sense us here, somehow. Mother leans down, kisses her daughter one last time on the top of the head, and then turns to look at me. Nothing is spoken. Nothing needs to be said. The time has come, and now it is passing. Together we travel on, leaving behind the survivors to begin the hard task of surviving. reply

Justice [01 Aug 2006|10:28pm] This town came with many places to visit. So far Justice had been to her apartment and to the club. Even with the advice she had gotten from Devon, she couldn't exactly shake over 100 years of habit. One thing she could do was to see many things she wasn't very used to. After overcoming baring it all in front of horny men, the rest, just seemed like child's play. One thing she'd been hearing the locals speak about often was a gambling. The idea of it all made Justice very curious, curious enough to find herself wandering around until she came upon one. The bright lights and loud noises were something Justice had been training herself to get used to after living in shadow for so long. She entered busy scene simply observing other people as they wasted coin after coin on machines that weren't very rewarding. She walked for what seemed like forever just trying to take it all in. “I wouldn’t try that machine if I were you,” came a voice from behind her. Nathan Rhames sat in front of a brightly lit slot machine, one hand on the handle. “I’m no psychic, but I have a feeling it’s on a dry spell,” he added with a chuckle, before pulling on the handle. The lights flashed and a few dozen small coins clinked loudly into the bottom tray. He turned to look at her, a warm smile on his face. “Wouldn’t want to just sit by and let you through your money away, you see.” ( Happiness ) reply

[19 Jul 2006|10:49pm] “..And a double Jack, two Coronas, one of those light. Hey, are you listening?” Nathan Rhames stood stone still; his eyes appeared to be focused on the customer in front of him. But in reality, that customer could have been dressed up in clown make up and riding a unicycle for all the good it would do him getting drinks at that particular moment. Angelic eyes had moved from taking in those in the room to taking in a sight that only he could see. A sight that was like so many others the past couple of days. Demented, strange, and only visible to a very select few; those who were of the same unearthly origin as himself. Down the street ran a pack of black dogs, very much similar to Rottweilers in appearance. The only difference was that Nathan could tell right away that these were not present in the physical realm. For starters, no one passing down the street seemed to take any notice of them. Not even when they stopped and stared into the Lighthouse. But through the walls, Nathan watched as they all stopped in perfect unison, and turned to look him square in the eyes, as if there was nothing separating them from him. Secondly, the pack was all in various states of decay. The lead dog had only whites for eyes, yet he seemed to move with a very determined manner. His lower jaw was completely missing, and his tongue hung down as he panted outside the premises. Behind him were more, some of them torn open, their insides exposed and hanging out. Others of them were only bone in places, while in others they possessed normal looking attributes. When the pack finally came to a halt, they all turned their attention to Nathan. He stood, not moving a muscle. He didn’t feel fear from the beasts, but inside of his mind the wheels were turning. It had all started with a little girl. Then had come the thousands of snakes, all of them hissing and posed to strike, but none of them ever did. Then the crows. All of them completely undetected by anyone in Searchlight except for Nathan. He knew they were being sent to him as some sort of a message. Nathan wasn’t sure he wanted to know exactly who was trying to get his attention, but he was sure of one thing. They had it. As if given a silent cue, the Rottweiler’s ears flattened, and they all began to bare their teeth at him; meanwhile those in the back of the pack begin to move out to the left and right. They were setting up to flank him. And then, without any warning whatsoever, they completely vanished into thin air, leaving Nathan with a slight chill running down the back of his spine. Something big was coming. Something big, and something bad. “Seriously man, you should write this down or something. I want three Buds, two cokes, a double-shot of Jack….” reply

[13 Jul 2006|10:49pm] Hot. Humid. Dry. Arid. To some, miserable. Unbearable. But to the angel that freely walked the earth, the desert was home. Physically, he wasn’t bothered by the climate the way that others were. And there was no where else on earth that had the same appeal that Searchlight did, both in the landscape an in the slow trickle of people that always seemed to be coming and going. The sun was blinding, but the wind that kicked up small grains of sand was the real enemy of sight on the outskirts of town. Often, this was a spot where Michael and Nathan would meet, converse, and even engage in the trading of old war stories that they loved to reminisce about so much. Not that Nathan had a story that Michael had not been there for, but for some reason neither of them minded much the rehashing of the memories that they carried. Nathan wasn’t sure if it was more therapeutic, or encouraging. Contrary to what they taught in Sunday school here on Earth, the good guys didn’t always win. Sometimes, even angels need something to bring them hope and comfort. That too he found in the presence of his General and good friend. However today was not a day in which angels would gather outside of the small Nevada town. Nathan had watched, unseen by human eye, at the events that had unfolded on Independence Day. He had spent most of his time tending after the children. If there was one thing Nathan knew, it was that children and angels were to entities that both seemed to not be noticed in the face of stage ten panic. But today, what had been noticed, at least by his pair of observant baby blues, was the new girl in town. Nathan had been working the bar when he heard a couple of ranchers talking in low voices about the “hot piece” that was roaming around town today. On his stroll out of town, he had wondered on by where she had been located and instantly could see why they were so taken with the young woman. She was very pretty, though Nathan never did manage to catch her eye as he passed. He had only chuckled at this, and said a silent prayer of thanks that he did not have to endure the embarrassing torture of trying to attract a mate. Nathan strolled on, leaving the photographer to her pictures; and leaving the town to its business as well. He enjoyed the solitude of the desert. It was his chance to get away. So naturally, he was surprised when all of the sudden he spotted a young girl, about six years old, standing beside a few Joshua trees. Her back was turned to him, and Nathan had not detected her presence before he had taken her in with his eyes. This made the angel instantly nervous. People did not just sneak up on him. As if she read his mind, she spoke in a quiet, soft little girl voice that seemed to be coming from his head. Maybe she was speaking into it. “I’m waiting,” the little voice explained. “For what,” he replied, feeling as though he was being set up for something. The young body turned around, a complete body of a little girl except for one very important detail. Instead of eyes, there were only dark, empty holes. “For the trials and tribulations of the angelic one to begin,” the little voice said again. Nathan watched as a giant centipede crawled out of the girl’s left ocular cavity and scurried along down the side of her cheek. Nathan blinked, and she was gone. reply

[10 Apr 2006|03:43pm] The last time Lorne had even attempted to go on a road trip, well, let's just say things didn't exactly go as he planned. Not only did he get a big red eyeful some girl's rather ample assets, he also ended up with his tongue lodged firmly down the throat of some crazy Russian broad whose English was more broken than the radiator underneath the hood of his car. Needless to say, this time around, he was hesitant to give it another shot, but at least he was prepared. His car was in brilliant working condition. His mechanic had seen to it that the little radiator incident didn't make a second appearance. After all, the car was brand-new, it shouldn't have malfunctioned in the first place. A suit and shirt of uncharacteristically stark black was adorned before the demon left the apartment above his nightclub; a red silk tie had been worn to offset the bleakness of his particular chosen hue of clothing, and his fedora and sunglasses were put on before he made his way to the car. No need to attract attention where it wasn't wanted. The car pulled it's way out of the stall where he parked it, and he had made his way down Circus Circus Dr., then pulled onto Las Vegas Blvd. He drove north for quite some time, traffic not as terrible as he had expected. It would be a long drive to Searchlight, but at least he had brought his music and a big bottle of water. Or not. "Oh, crap," Lorne muttered as he had realized his bottle of Dasani was still sitting on his kitchen counter. He'd have to stop along the way to buy some more, something he dreaded doing. Explaining to people why you looked the way you did was one thing, but convincing them by lying was something the regularly honest demon hated doing. But it was necessary. Car parked outside the drugstore, the demon pulled the brim of his hat down low and made his way inside. The clerk behind the counter stared at him curiously, to which he just smiled and pointed at his face. "Got a show to do," he lied casually, "Don't mind the makeup, doll." "I think I saw that show a month or so back," came a voice from behind him. Standing there in some old, slightly tattered Levi's, and white t-shirt that appeared to be right out of the bag stood Nathan Rhames, Complete with a bag of beef jerky and a Lime Coke. He nodded at Lorne with a friendly grin. "One of the best I've seen in a while, if memory holds," he added. Nathan adjusted an old army surplus backpack that was strapped to his back as he took a few steps toward the counter. Whoever this guy was that came out of absolutely nowhere, Lorne didn't know; but whatever his deal was, he was definately making the demon's shopping experience a little easier. Infact - a lot easier, as the woman behind the counter smiled and nodded knowingly. Hell, anyone in Vegas could look the way Lorne did, and all you had to do was say you were in a show, and your case was made. No one seemed to think twice about it. It was the norm around here. Luckily for Lorne, if anyone did second guess it, he had the vocal abilities to proove his point; he'd have a particular set list of songs he'd be willing to perform on the drop of a hat, if need be. The demon returned the friendly grin of the older gentleman in the jeans, and turned on his heels towards the back of the store. He made his way down the aisle which housed all the souvenirs your greedy little hands could hold; ashtrays, snow globes (the irony of these things in Vegas was beyond Lorne), tee-shirts, and even the occasional backscratcher. But Lorne didn't need tacky kitsch, well, at least not this time around; he needed refreshment in the form of liquid in a blue bottle. The fridges at the back of the store which held all the non-alcoholic beverages that a lush such as Lorne could choose from hummed with a quiet buzz. He pulled open the door, withdrew a single bottle, and let the door close shut with a quiet slam. He whistled a tune as the round security mirrors in the corner reflected his greenness, his casual indifference to his appearance apparent as his left hand shoved itself deep into his trouser pocket; his right hand held the bottle by the cap, dangling it down beside his leg as he walked. The man in the white shirt was still at the counter, and Lorne got in line behind him. "You shoulda seen the last show I did," the demon spoke conversationally as he went on with the charade, "What a hoot it was. I just can't wait to get home and scrub this green paint off, though. Kinda itches when it dries." "I would imagine it would be hard to scrub off," Nathan replied without looking back, instead digging into his wallet and fishing out a few bills. "His too," he said to the cashier, nodding back at actor behind him. He laid the money gently into her hands, and noticed she had a college basketball bracket laying beside the counter. "Are you a fan of anyone in particular?" He questioned quietly, as if he were trying to think of something as he asked. His sharp eyes rose from the bracket to meet hers. "Uh, no, no." she said, surprised at first, but then laughed as if something was funny to her. "No," she stated again, rolling her eyes as if she were embarrassed at what she was about to say. "But you know Vegas, you can bet on anything for big money. I've got enough bills to where I'm starting to believe it's my only way out. Hell, I don't know the first thing about college basketball, but it's only five bucks to enter." She looked from Nathan to Lorne, and then back to Nathan again, lowering her gaze slightly. Nathan nodded knowingly. "I hear you there," he replied softly. "If it were my five bucks-which it isn't-I'd put Indiana in the finals...don't see how you could go wrong," he said with a wink. He turned back to Lorne, a twinkle in his eyes. "But then again, I suppose one doesn't get rich off the advice of a hitchhiker, eh?" Hypothetically, a thin milky white film glazed over Lorne's eyes, leaving them an albino pink. Talk of sports made the demon tune out, like a child with an attention deficit watching saturday morning cartoons. Even though the conversation wasn't directed at him in particular, it still didn't really matter to him which basketball team scored how many touchdowns or how much money people were willing to bet on any given team. But still, he wasn't trying to be rude; after all, the man infront of him had just saved his ass from having to cough out an even more ridiculous explanation as to why he was painted up in green makeup. That, and he had covered his tab for the water. Not like Lorne needed handouts, the Greenroom pulled in enough green to keep his mattress fully stuffed. He smiled anyway. "Hitchhiker?" the demon playfully scoffed, "You can put that thumb away, Padre; I've got enough seats in my car to hold the entire Can-Can line at Bally's. Where ya headed?" It was the least he could do - offer this guy a ride. "Hey, Thanks!" Nathan exclaimed as he put his wallet back into his pocket and his items into his backpack. "I accept, but only if I'm on your way. Don't want to put you out, friend." The two of them headed out the door and into the parking lot. "Searchlight's my destination, and Nathan's my name," he said, extending his right hand to his ride provider. Fishing his Volkswagen keys out of his pocket, Lorne smiled at the man he had just met. He took the keys in the hand that held his water, and extended his free hand to receive the shake, "Lorne," he introduced with a smile, then returned the keys to his free hand and beeped the alarm. The lights flashed once, the locks popped up, and the car was disarmed. "Going to Searchlight myself, believe it or not." Then he realized his mistake. "Er, which is where .. my show is," he fumbled, gave a sheepish grin, and got into the car. He unscrewed the cap of his water, took a sip, and then set it down in the cup holder, waiting for his new traveling companion to enter the vehicle. It hadn't really occurred to Lorne until that moment that he really had no idea whether or not this guy was dangerous. He'd just been so caught up in doing a good deed that he hadn't actually thought about any negative aspects. Hanging around Meredith too much had gotten the demon hooked on wanting to improve his karma, after all. Nathan had gotten in and closed the door, and Lorne turned the key and fired up the engine to the red Beetle. "Well, away we go," he said with a smile as he pulled the car into the street and headed away. "Hope you like Gloria Gaynor," he noted as his hand moved toward the dial on the stereo. Nathan let the comment of the show pass without even blinking. Poor guy. Smiling, Nathan nodded his head. "I'm a bartender at the Lighthouse, I love all kinds of music. Sometimes, when it's slow...which is often, by the way, I just let the jukebox play for hours." He didn't mention that with his power, it never played the same song twice, and often played songs that weren't on the list. "How long have you been a performer?" he questioned. Without taking his eyes off the road, Lorne smiled. "Oh, Honey, almost ten years now," he replied conversationally without skipping a beat. "I started out small in Los Angeles, singing karaoke in a rather homely little nightclub. Eventually I worked my way up to the big time here in Vegas - well, if you wanna call this the big-time. I once headlined at the Tropicana though - can't forget that - but that was years ago." The red Beetle drove underneath the large neon sign of a cowboy on a horse which was situated where Fremont St met Las Vegas Blvd, and with a flick of a turn signal, the demon turned right and headed down the long stretch of road which would eventually take him to Searchlight. "So you obviously live in Searchlight then? I-I mean, if you work there and all," he asked, curiously, red eyes occasionally checking the rearview mirror. "I've only been there once myself. A little too rustic for my tastes, though." He chuckled, "What can I say? I'm spoiled rotten." "I do indeed," Nathan replied with a wide grin and a slow nod of the head. "I blew into town a year or so back, looking for work." The angel couldn't help but chuckle a bit at the last comments made by Lorne. "I think that anyone who is use to indoor plumbing comes off as spoiled in that town," he replied with a raise of his eyebrows. "It definitely took some getting use to...which is why I end up in Vegas everyone once in a while. Stretch my legs, that sort of thing." He grinned as he looked over at the driver. "Sometimes I even catch a show or two." Lorne cast a quick glance over to his right at his passenger, giving him a warm smile with perfectly aligned gleaming white demon teeth, "You definitely have a lot to choose from," he commented, "But if you're ever in the mood for some karaoke, I also happen run a nightclub up on the north end of the strip behind Circus Circus called the Greenroom, if you're interested in stopping by some time, y-you know, if you're in the area. My door's always open for new faces." Head turned quickly around over the other shoulder to check his blind spot, the demon switched lanes and accelerated to pass the car in front of him. Driving was something that Lorne had grown accustomed to over the last number of years. His first time, of course, was behind the wheel of a particular black GTX convertible on the way to stopping the world from ending, albeit his driving companion a then cranky and overwrought vampire with an attitude problem; and ever since the demon was given a brand new car and forged driver's license courtesy of a certain unmentionable chain of evil law firms, he'd taken to the wheel like a fish to water. Not that he'd be caught dead talking cars with some grease monkey mechanic, because that so wasn't his style; but he somehow enjoyed the freedom that being on the road gave him. That, and it sure as hell beat walking. "Anyhow," he went on, "The last time I ended up out this way, I had the absolute terrible luck of having my car break down. I didn't really get a chance to poke around the town too much to see what it had to offer. This Lighthouse place you work at, is it a fairly decent place for a guy like me to grab something to drink? Well, something that doesn't come out of a wooden barrel in the basement?" "It's the best place in town," Nathan replied with a grin. "Though I hope you're not too opposed to the wooden barrel in the basement drink...it is the house specialty," he joked. He adjusted a bit in his seat and crossed his arms comfortably across his chest. "Julie's about the only other bartender there besides myself, so I can vouch for the staff. But yeah, you should definitely stop in after your show, have a drink or two. You'll have to come in with your make-up on too, it'll creep the locals out. I love doing that every chance I get." Nathan was tempted to ask Lorne where exactly his show was, but he decided it wouldn't be very nice. The demon chuckled nervously. He wondered to himself if this guy was altogether buying the fact that he actually wasn't wearing makeup. Well, save for the eyeliner, but that was something else. "Heh," he replied, "Yeah, i'll have to do that. After my show, that is." But then - wouldn't a local know that a place such as Searchlight wouldn't even have a venue for a so-called show of Lorne's sophisticated capacity? The most entertainment they'd probably seen around there would be dueling banjos or a dead-heat tie in Bingo at the Senior's center. The fact that Nathan was going along with Lorne's little charade made the demon feel somewhat sheepish, and altogether rather silly for thinking he could fool this guy. He heaved a resonated sigh. His conscience wouldn't let him get away with lying like this. "I'm not doing a show in Searchlight," he admitted finally, his voice clearly displaying his guilt, "I'm actually going to meet a friend." However, that still didn't explain his appearance. "Oh," Nathan said, trying to sound a bit surprised. Then he shrugged his shoulders. "I was wondering if you were going to perform in the middle of the street, but hey, it takes all kinds, ya know?" Nathan didn't push for any information, things were going along rather nicely, and quite according to his plan. All was as it should be, and that's all that mattered to the angel. "Who's your friend, Lorne? Maybe I know them." "Her name is Meredith," Lorne went on, bypassing the other topic without skipping a beat, "Not really much of a social butterfly, that girl; but bless her heart she always surprises me in the end with the lengths she goes to for her friends." The demon's expression flattened considerably, "Friend," he corrected himself, "She's not really much for other people. I guess maybe I got lucky." He chuckled at his comment, then his face went serious again, and with a perked eyebrow, looked over at Nathan, "Sound familiar? I-mean, you know her?" Nathan shook his head from side to side. “I’m afraid not,” he replied, furrowing his brows. “Which is odd, Searchlight isn’t that big.” He shrugged his shoulders, and dug into his pack, pulling out a soda. He twisted the cap off, took a long drink, and then put the cap back on. The bottle rested between his legs in his lap. “Then again,” the angel said, reconsidering his previous statement. “As a bartender, I do hear all sorts of odd stories about Searchlight, so who knows? Anyways, I’ve always said that if a person has five good friends throughout their entire lives, they should consider themselves very blessed.” The demon only shrugged in response, "I figured you wouldn't know her anyway," he commented, "She's out and around a lot, but she's not from around here." His right shoulder went up and then down again in a half shrug. Speaking of Meredith though, he'd really have to get a move on it. He'd kept the brunette waiting long enough, and he knew that she tended to get a bit testy when you kept her waiting. Lorne ducked slightly behind the wheel to cast his red eyed gaze skyward, "Looks like we're gonna get there just as night falls," he noted as the red car zoomed down the highway at breakneck speeds, "Guess I'm not going to make it back home to open the club for the night. Ah well, it'll give my staff a night off, anyways. Though to be perfectly honest, I might have some disappointed customers when I get back." He heaved a sigh and pulled his hat off his head, tossing the black felt fedora into the back seat. Revealed from underneath for the first time in Nathan's presence, were a pair of small and shiny red horns. Nathan pointed to a small road that was coming up along the road, one that was never there before. But Lorne would not know that, as Nathan had just caused it to appear on the horizon. "Actually," Nathan said, pointing out the road in the distance, "That road is a short cut to Searchlight...cuts the time down marginally." He looked over at Lorne, and shrugged his shoulders. "If you're in a hurry, that's the way you wanna go." Green brows furrowed, then one perked inquisitively and somewhat curiously at the man in the passenger seat. Lorne didn't remember a shortcut to Searchlight the last time he attempted to make his way out there, but then again, it'd been his first time driving these roads and he wasn't familiar with them. Maybe it'd been an oversight that he didn't see it the first time. "Alrighty then, Padre," Lorne said finally as he flicked on his turn single and turned the car to make his way onto the road. It was weird, having this road there in the first place. The last time Lorne had checked the map, the highway they were on went straight through Searchlight. In fact, there couldn't have been a shorter way there even if it appeared out of thin air. Silence had passed between the two of them for awhile, and Lorne, as if on instinct, habitually decided to fill in the void with his need to softly hum along to the cd player. Melodious and bang-on-key, the demon's velvety voice started out at a small low pitch, then eventually he began to add words. ".. I got soul but I’m not a soldier.. I got soul but I’m not a soldier ..". A grin appeared on Lorne's face. "I love this band," he commented, hand moving to the dial, "Those crazy kids. Las Vegas natives, you know?" Truth is, it was Lorne who had given The Killers their big break back while working at Wolfram and Hart. He took a shining to them, mainly because the song he had been singing at that moment had actually been written for him. "You like music?" the demon asked Nathan, finally. But Nathan was no longer in the car. Instead, his pack and everything else had disappeared, leaving Lorne all to himself. On the seat sat a white piece of paper with the words Thanks for the ride," scrawled across. Up the road about four miles, the town of Searchlight encroached the car, much, much ahead of schedule. reply

The Strangest People... [02 Feb 2006|05:12pm] Kris had almost forgotten the hatred and loathing she had for public transport. That's what happened when you had a car of your own and a full tank of gas. Only she didn't have her car any more so the bus was her only option if she wanted to get into Vegas. Her mood was reflected on her face and in the tight way she held her shoulders and how her feet trapped the bag of ill gotten money between them. Arms were locked and crossed over her chest and hands wrapped biceps. Three people had joined her at the bus stop and all three had tried to sit next to her but after one look at her face they had moved and opted for standing. She really didn't care at this point in time. If they wanted to stand, they could stand. Gave her more space to try and get her thoughts and feelings straightened out. If dark clouds could manifest over a person's head, Kris would definitely be carrying a thunderstorm with her. Her wrist turned and eyes glanced at the time, the bus was late by a whole of three minutes and the delay served to deepen Kris' aggravation. She eased a breath out and tried to work out the pain held in her jaw from where her teeth had ground into one another. "Need gum," She muttered as she rose to her feet and began a search of her pockets. She had to have some gum somewhere, she always had gum but it would stand to reason that she wouldn't have any on this day of all days. She felt tempted to laugh but instead settled for perfecting a sour expression. Dressed in a sharp white suit, Nathan Rhames ambled slowly toward the bus stop, trying not to grin at the circumstances. The bus, usually right on time, had managed to have an unexpected breakdown in the middle of the desert. Imagine that. As Nathan approached the young slayer, his eyes took a very quick scan of her as she patted herself down in search of something. Gum. the angel thought to himself as his hands came out of his pockets. He took a seat beside her, waiting a few moments before pulling a pack out of the inside of his white jacket pocket. He popped a piece into his own mouth, and chewed thoughtfully for a moment. Turning then, as if the idea just entered his head, he held out the pack to her. "Can I offer you any?" He said, his voice sounding friendly and somewhat aged. It was, in his opinion, a very acceptable ice breaker. Kris turned her head as a guy in a white suit seemed to appear out of nowhere. "You do know that white is probably the worst choice of colour for our sandy surroundings," She remarked as she sat down and eyed the pack like it might contain poison. Trust wasn't ingrained into Kris' nature and she certainly didn't trust strangers at all but this one seemed harmless enough. "Dry cleaning must be hell," She commented dryly as she took the pack and worked a piece out from within the wrapping. The piece of gum vanished into the depths of the Slayer's mouth and was quickly crushed and chewed until flavour dispersed and filled her mouth but it wasn't about the flavour for Kris. She just needed a way in which to keep her teeth from grinding away to nothing. The pack was offered back with a, "Thanks." "You're most welcome," Nathan replied with a small but friendly smile. "Actually, I find that few things really seem to be hell, if you can manage to keep your chin up," he added, chuckling just a bit. He looked over to her again, already starting to allow the settling aurora that he possessed to begin to saturate the environment around them. "Take waiting for a very late bus," he explained, using their current situation. "Sure, it's not much fun. But you never know just who you might meet." With this, he offered her his hand. "Nathan Rhames," he said gently. ( Speaking of Hell, ) ( I burned down a church, No fooling ) reply

Nathan And Quinn [27 Jan 2006|07:25pm] Nathan stood behind the freshly cleaned bar, arms folded across his chest. He was taking a moment to admire the fruits of his labor, for Nathan was an angel who preferred his liquors, and the places they were partaken from, to be clean. With the dirty towel dispensed in the back, he now had little to do but bring about bottles of beers and glass full of drinks named after people...like Tom Collins, for example. Most of all, Nathan was glad to be back in Searchlight, back among people, and back into the swing of things. To him, he was starting out fresh, just in a old place. But that suited him just fine and dandy. At least he wasn’t playing guardian to some devilish eleven-year-old boy. The thought alone made him shudder. Quinn was kind of surprised to find Julie not on bartending duty when she stepped into the Lighthouse, and she didn't recognize the man who was back there, but a beer was a beer. She hauled her weight onto a convenient stool, rested the soles of her tennis shoes on the bottom rung. "I'll just have whatever's on tap," she said, resting her forearms on the wooden surface of the bar. "And a ham and cheese sandwich. Did they hire another new bartender while I wasn't looking?" Nathan grinned as he tipped the glass to one side and allowed the golden liquid to flow into it’s new, but decisively temporary, home. “More like they allowed an old one to find his way back,” he said with a grin. “Although, you have a point, they did hire a new girl by the name of Julie. But I don’t want to hear any jokes about how much better she looks than an old guy like me,” he added with a sparkle in his eye. Yes, this was right where he wanted to be. The glass was set down in front of the young woman, with a napkin underneath to catch any drips of condensation that had dreams of escaping the life of glass and making its way to the counter top. Nathan would have none of that. The order went back to the kitchen for the food, and Nathan returned to the front of the bar with the sandwich in hand. “Made fresh daily,” he commented as the food came to rest next to the cold glass. ( ”Uncle ) reply

Winds of Change [19 Jan 2006|04:47pm] The winds blew hard across the desert, whipping in and out of the tiniest crevices in the spreading land. The drove from outside Searchlight in, racing around in circles, only to blow in a hard drove right down through the middle of the town. They seemed to come from all directions at once, meeting at a predetermined crossroads, and then blowing out into the dunes again. They rushed in and out, not leaving any area of the surrounding area left unscathed. In the middle of town, unseen by human eyes, a being lowered from the sky. As he neared the ground, the intensity of the wind picked up until it was ripping furiously. As Nathan’s feet touched the ground, the wind died down as suddenly as it had picked up. A curious half-smile crossed the face of the angel. “What,” he said aloud, “I’ve been gone all this time, and you have nothing to say to me?” With that, the wind blew back into town, coming from the east and blasting through Searchlight and exiting into the west. The wind told Nathan many stories; it spoke of the many things he had missed while he had been absent. And when it was finished, Nathan knew that it wouldn’t be long before he would be needed back in action again. reply

Reunion [28 May 2005|02:46pm] Strolling up to the Lighthouse, Micah took a moment to finish and extinguish his cigarette. Leaning up against the wall, he smiled at the few older gentlemen as they passed by him and entered the bar; they smiled or nodded back in reply. Micah, like Nathan in so many ways, had a special way with people. They either seemed to like him immediately, or just not take notice of him at all, depending on the situation. There were those, however, who bristled whenever he was around. Many of those kinds, he had been told, were lurking about in this town. But he wasn't going to mention that anytime soon. It had been many years since the two were last together. To Micah, it seemed like a lifetime ago. So many things had changed. The war-both of them now-had passed, he had met new people, and experienced things that not even he had ever dreamed he would. And now, in the wake of everything ending, he stood here in Searchlight, Nevada. He peered through the window in front, watching Nathan talk to the old timers who had just entered, and were already half way through their first round. Micah smirked; there must not be too much else for them to do in this sleepy town. Grabbing the handle of the door, the bell chimed as Micah revealed himself to his old friend and partner. ( old friends ) reply

Here, Kitty Kitty Kitty.... [13 Mar 2005|11:02pm] It was a quiet evening in the Searchlight bar, like most of them were. Why not? It was a quiet sort of town. Well, maybe not so quiet... At least not recently. And certainly not so as Katherine Williams staggered in, already a little drunk, but not yet overly so. She was just on the lighter side of 'tipsy' and, being so, meant that the vampire had a sort of laziness to her inadvertent swagger. "Hey..." The speech was slurred, but only slightly. It would probably have shown a great deal more caution if Katherine had been sober and possessed of enough facts to realize that she was addressing an angelic representative. "I wanna'... A... A drink of..." But comprehensive words failed her. "Wanna' drink of your finest what-the-fuck-ever..." "Hey," Nathan replied back, warily eyeing her. A drunk vampire with a stagger wasn't exactly something that walked through the door every night. Or...any night so far. Whoever said Searchlight was a boring town was very right, but wrong in this case. Normally, Nathan wouldn't have even considered serving her, but in this instance he decided to go with it, and see where it would lead. Getting information would be nice for a change. He served her double shot of vodka, placing the shot down on the table with a clink. "I can see you're rather particular about your alcohol," he said with a hint of sarcasm, but a grin on his face nonetheless. "Yeah... In quantity." Katherine's reply was on the order of either not realising there was sarcasm or really not being bothered by it. Either way, she downed it in one, only to breathe out the acrid aftertaste with a mask of veiled annoyance at the nearest customer who was gauging the woman with a disdainful eye. "What...?" She questioned the man, by no means eager to shy away from a potential fight, only to intimidate him enough with that distinctive glower she had, to see him walk over to the pool table and continue watching the rest of his buddies' game from there. "Don't rightly remember goin' in here before... Or maybe I just recognise you..." Katherine's attention had wandered over the architecture of the place, eventually coming to rest upon the angelic being. Vampiric eyes seeing only the appearance of a mortal bar tender there. ( So, a Vampire, An Angel, and a Rabbi walk into a bar. ) 7 comments | reply

[28 Feb 2005|07:56pm] Nathan had needed a change of scenery, so he now stood on the abandoned strip of the airport a few miles outside of town. It was early morning, because they always met in the first lights of dawn. Nathan hadn't sent a message or request to meet with Michael this time, but knew beyond a shadow of any doubt that he would be met this morning. Michael always seemed to know just when to show up. Nathan stood, facing the East, lost in his thoughts of recent events, his fist clenched slightly in his jacket pocket. He felt a sudden rush of wind, and then a soothing presence beside him. "I'm late, I know. But, I'm here," came a familiar voice, rich and melodic in tone. A voice that had carried some of the world's greatest news, and at the same time announced some of the most terrible times to the heavenly bodies. Nathan smiled, and then turned to look at his friend. Michael returned the gaze with one of his own, and a grin. The two had a slight chuckle as an exchange of greeting. "I know what you're going to ask Nathan, and you know my answer." Nathan nodded his head slowly, but was not ready to accept the verdict laid before him. "It's time Michael, you must know it. I can't help anyone if I'm constantly hiding behind that bar." Nathan took a step forward, and pulled his arms from his pockets, folding them across his chest. "You saw what could have happened to the girl...what could still happen if I don't get involved. Surely this isn't what He would want to happen, is it?" "That isn't for you to judge," came the even reply, though Nathan knew that it always got under Michael's skin to have an order questioned. But then again, they had been in this conversation before over the years, and sometimes, Nathan came out the victor. The old general was just cautious when it came to revealing his beloved armor bearer in any situation, especially one as dangerous as this. "Nathan, you see many things, and no one is arguing that fact. That being said, you don't see things from the highest perspective." The large being moved up to stand beside his friend once more, as was customary in their meetings. "That wasn't a judgement, it was a question," Nathan explained patiently, and without need. "But you knew that. Just as you must know that if I don't act soon, then there will be no reason for me to ever have come at all. The time is now, Michael...Please ask." The was a tone of sincerity in the lesser angel's voice that caught the attention of the greater, who sighed and nodded. Without speaking a word, he closed his eyes, and stood for a few moments, as though he had frozen completely in time. With a great breath suddenly drawn in, Michael again opened his eyes. "Start with the girl. Keep no secrets, but divulge no information that you feel you don't have to." Michael turned, signifying the meeting was over. He took a few steps away, and then turned and grinned over his shoulder. "You were right. It's time." With that, the General vanished in a rush of sudden wind, leaving Nathan to himself again on the airstrip. The grin on Nathan's face was as wide as a country mile. 1 comment | reply

Clearing one's head [27 Oct 2004|10:33am]      In the twilight of the evening, Nathan stood atop a hill to the North of Searchlight.  He watched, silent and alone, as the sun began to find its way home on the Western horizon.  He sat brooding silently for a moment, his arms folded across his chest.  A few questions played at his mind, but for the most part, he had it figured out.      Someone was using the a church in town to mislead a following of people.  And if there was one thing that got Nathan's blood pressure up, it was those who used clerical positions to control people.  People, in general, were all just looking for something to fill the void that is inside them.  When they don't find good things, he knew that they would turn to anything: Drugs, alcohol, other people, any sort of faith is better than faith in nothing.  There were a few who tried not to believe or trust in anything, and Nathan would be the first to admit it.  But, for the most part, everyone wanted something to believe in.      His eyes narrowed a bit as he thought back over the day.  At first, Nathan had just over heard random thoughts of the people around him.  It wasn't until mid-afternoon that he had pieced together enough information from their thoughts, and therefor learned the truth of what has happening.      Nathan was frustrated to say the least.  His orders where to stay under cover as long as possible, and three days into the mission hardly counted as "as long as possible."  He needed to think.  Thoughts and plans already formed in his head, and sorting them out was taking up all his concentration.  And suddenly, the perfect idea came to him.  For the first time that afternoon, a smile came to his face.   reply

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