into-each-generation

[into-each-generation]

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[into-each-generation]

Where Do We Go From Here? || Finale Chatzy

Estela had made sure that all firearms were relinquished to the armory before departure. No sidearms, no rifles. Given their general inexperience with supernatural hellbeasts, bullets flying about would only serve to piss off demons and injure the slayers fighting in close combat with them. Slayers weren't meant to fight with firearms. "Close combat and bladed weaponry. Don't take on a Turok-Han alone if you're not a Slayer, don't split up, if you leave formation then get back to your place as soon as the threat is dealt with. Crossbowers Matheson and Erikson with Avery and Jack, left flank. Miller and Crowe with Brennan and Wicke, right flank. Rowe and Spencer, keep an eye on the back with McCale and Swan." The orders came easily and quickly but she had been half expecting to be questioned about the tactic. Instead, even the army men fell in and took the direction without complaint. Fuck. She twisted her familiar knife in her hands, the most cherished gift from Liam that she'd never been able to push herself to get rid of, and nodded with a slow breath. Being just outside of London, it didn't take long to properly begin deploying into the city. "Echo's moving in just behind us, Delta's to the west, Bravo's to the east, Charlie's circling around to come from the north. Stay in contact with Alpha and your shadow teams—" First hostile in sight. Hostiles. And they certainly weren't only Turok-Han. 

The radio at Gen's hip had gone silent. They were dead, she realized. They hadn't checked in in five minutes. She knew very well what that means and every minute they weren't on top of the Hellmouth was another minute Turok-Hans piled out of it and into London. She stiffened her hand around her sword hilt as the military vehicle drew closer to the epicenter. She could hear the roaring of rubble and the monsters tearing through it. Estela's orders were stiff and precise, as though she was born for this. Miller caught Gen's eye as they piled out, giving her a small nod. "Your people here?" he asked. Gen gave a small shrug, looking over her shoulder at her mother before she answered. "Probably." Definitely. They rushed forward, their teams coming in from all the directions Estela had described. Gen knew military language just well enougb to work it out but she was glad Estela was taking the lead. It came so naturally to her. "Hearts and heads," she reiterated, drawing her weapon. The sword in her hand felt a lot more natural than the gun she had left behind. 

Pen had situated herself at the front. She had found a suitable blade and made sure the rest of her unit had outfitted themselves similarly, but this piece of metal didn’t belong to her. It didn’t feel at home in her hand. The soldiers that had once been all too eager to put her in her place as it were had gone silent now. The look in their eyes was one she had seen many times now. They were waiting for her. Looking to her. Listening. “You will not engage with a Turok-Han individually under any circumstances. Ranged fighters, aim for the hearts and heads. For the rest of you, a good decapitation will eliminate most of what we find in here. Strike hard and strike true. We will be met with non-military allies upon arrival. You will treat them as your equals. Do I make myself clear?” The nods of unanimous agreement were almost enough to make her feel accomplished. She drew a long knife from her belt. “Let’s end this.” 

 Wesley had turned shoved his phone into his inside jacket pocket. He still hadn't heard from Penelope. The irritation of the fact she'd been in touch with Maggie and not him was a distant but present gnawing. He buried it under his sense of duty, of what was expected of him, giving Illyria a long look as they armed up. "If you portal us into a giant hole, I won't be impressed," he teased, deadpan. "Ready?" 

Illyria gave him a reproving look, albeit devoid of the coolness reserved for his kind, gaze lifting from the sword she was examining. "I am always ready," she chastised, selecting a sheath to sling over one shoulder, making a point to ignore the other comment. The fight ahead did not intimidate Illyria, although the possibilities therein continued to provoke anxiety. Wesley's safety lay forever in the balance, along with the fate of London's innocent people. Unwilling to let what if-s distract her, she created a portal, indicating Wesley to follow. 

Xander had scratches and bruises in places he didn't know could get scratches and bruises. His scratches had scratches, for crying out loud! From the moment they'd felt the earthquake, Xander had known with a lump in his throat that it wasn't about finding Oz anymore. It was about getting people to safety. Each road that brought them closer to Westminster had more casualties, more people panicking. Where they could, they helped. Told people to get their loved ones out of the city as fast as they could, by walking if that was faster and safer. When they were within a few blocks, they'd encountered the first Turok Han. From then on it had become worse. More bodies, more blood. Xander knew they were regrouping, that soon he'd be fighting alongside Peyton and Maggie as well as countless others. He just didn't know if it would be enough. Last time it had taken Spike turning into a disco ball... what would it take this time? 

Buffy gripped her scythe as she swung to take out another Turok-Han. As soon as her and Xander had felt the rumbles from the Earthquake, they booked it in the direction of ATHENA to stock up on weapons. Her home had been a bit more damaged than she left it, but there wasn't time to think about it. Only ten minutes and they were out on the streets, making their way back to where they knew the epicenter would be, trying to convince anyone and everyone they could to get out. She kept Xander close to her side, ignoring the bodies and blood in favor of taking out whatever crossed their path. The ruined, collapsed government building came into sight, and the area was crawling with all kinds of demons. Lucky them, there weren't just uber vamps, either. "You okay?" She said, looking over Xander, trying not to think too hard about the cuts and bruises already visible. A moment later, and a portal appeared in front of them. Buffy nodded to Wesley and Illyria, grateful to have the God-King here already. "Welcome to the party. Take your pick of Hell beasts. Open invitation." 

Jayan felt at home here. It was an odd thing to think of feel but it was the truth. Here with Renee at her side, a sword in her hand, in the midst of battle with nothing but evil before her. This was what she was meant for, what she was born to do. She tightened the grip on her sword and her jaw clenched and tightened as she focused. Her Mother's words rang in her head 'If it is not your time to die, the jaws of death itself cannot stop you, but should it be your time then no armour may protect you'. She heard the words as clearly as she heard Penelope's instructions from training. Their voices were vivid in her mind as she swung her sword forward at the first demon that came towards her, swinging through the body cleanly. 

 Maggie already saw the army in place, numerous people milling about and the Slayers and Council members she had sent ahead of her while she finished the last of everything that needed to be done to ensure those who needed to be safe were so, and those who were fighting were armed. Now, however, she could leave all that behind as she felt the bow comfortable on her shoulder, but with both her own sword tucked away and Pen's Father shining weapon in her hand also she felt like a well-armed packhorse. Worries about the well-being of absolute everyone had to be pushed to the side, even the nagging fear and concern of losing Kennedy had to locked away for fear such a distraction could cause her own death not to mention the death of the closest person she had to a daughter. Focus. And as she saw the teaming masses of demons, Turok-Hans and God knows what else, nothing but determination, self-preservation and a general fierce anger filling her mind. She turned to Kennedy, swords clanging at her side, as she took the bow in hand and already had one of the specialist arrows Xander had gifted her for Christmas, positioned to shoot, as they carried on forward. 

Patrick didn't get a chance to meet up with Renee before reaching Parliament on his own. Demons of all kinds spewed up and away from it, scattering in every direction. He grimaced, jogging to the fray as quickly as he could. London would need to hold its own for a while. Patrick was going in. The fear didn't hit him until he spotted a Turok Han approaching. Wielding a sword, Patrick struck, the force of the blow rattling up his arm. 

Giles had seen far too many an apocalypse. It was never pleasant, never easy, just the oppisite. Watching it devour his own home city, his own cultural heritage, though, it stung all the more profoundly than usual. It took a mightily powered crossbow to pierce the chest of a Turok-Han. There was a reason slayers went first. Even Buffy had almost been overpowered by one before. Engaging them was far from easy, but this was their challenge and they had to rise to it. Dawn and her slayer - Dani - had joined him and though his stomach tightened unhappily at the thought of such youth being exposed to this, he couldn't send the young slayer away. He didn't have the authority. She should have left with Anya, but this was her choice. Anya. She hadn't come back yet, but she had sworn she would. The sight of soldiers met his eyes as he approached the disaster zone, but they didn't try and stop him. Perhaps the selective co-operation of their people had done some good after all. 

Estela took little pleasure even in knowing that the formation held longer than she believed that it would. Crossbowers fired, close combatants covered them with swinging swords, axes and daggers, cross bowers reloaded. The cycle repeated. Estela did take a moment to examine Penelope critically before saying, "This unit is under my command. If you wish to command Bravo then I'll relieve Mason and you can take over there but there will be no additional orders from anyone save myself or second-in-command, Penelope. One unit, one commanding voice. These are my people now. My responsibility is to keeping them alive as long as I can and that ability is hindered if they're divided by a challenge to command." Estela drove her dagger into the heart of demon wretched with the stench of blood and something like sulphur. "My duty is to them as much as protecting the innocents. If I die, Gen's to take over next. And regardless," Estela wrenched the heavy body off of her blade to push backwards in a slump onto another demon. "You will give them the equal respect that they deserve without any smugness." 

Simon was already out in the field. You learned a thing or two in five years walking with a hands-on Watcher. He’d never been more grateful for all his training sessions with Gen. He cut his way through a demon crawling to its feet just as the cavalry rolled in. He peered at what faces he could make out. Was she in there? Had they finally started listening to her? He ran to meet them. He’d lost his phone to some beast with horns and spikes and he had to know if she was there. He had to know now. 

Gen didn't want to dwell on the fact that several members of their team would probably die today. They were soldiers, but human soldiers. They were used to wars being fought in deserts, against human evils and human oppositions and human perils, not monsters with superpowers and more ferocity than they had ever seen. The line of Turok-Han rose to meet them. They had no organization, no order, but they smelled blood in the water and like sharks, it whet their appetites. She lifted her sword. The 'good' in hand-to-hand combat on her scorecard taunted her. She was about to prive it wrong. Her sword met the pale, sickly flesh of the demon as she swung. It turned to a cloud of dust before her just in time for another to grab at her elbow, twisting. She spun, loosening its grip, kicking it back with a hard strike, impaling it on a piece of rebar. Ugh. Not nice. She disposed of it quickly before moving on. Ahead of her, people out of uniform were fighting, a cluster of them. A single human seperated from the pack as the last of the Turok-Hans in that cluster were vanquished. "Identify yourself," Miller ordered as he cautiously lifted his bow. The thing was foreign in his hands. "Stop! That's my fiance!" Gen gripped Miller's elbow in an action that would have inspired a few hours in isolation and a stern lecture a few days ago. He nodded, but she could tell he was a little skeptical about the uniform-less individuals running around. She didn't care. Simon was alive. She could just about resist the urge to run into his arms, but Estela was right there. She managed a vague smile instead, bittersweet. "You got to see me in uniform after all." She turned to Estela. "What's next?" 

Anya tightened her hold on the crossbow she had borrowed from Maggie after she had helped everyone leave. checked her side to make sure the hatchet and the quiver full of bolts were still there. As she got closer to the Hellmouth, hiding whenever she spotted a group of enemies too dangerous for her to handle alone, she got the chance to look around and see the damage done to the city. It was a familiar sight to her, she had witnessed death and destruction many times before. But this was different: she was going to fight this time, she had been given the chance to run and she had turned it down. Just like in Sunnydale. The main difference though, was that Sunnydale had been abandoned by its inhabitants long before the final battle. This time people were fleeing and panicking and running for their lives… In the past she had witnessed that as a demon, not as a human, and that changed everything. Anya was afraid, terrified even, but the hand loading the crossbow was steady as she reached her destination and scanned the street in front of her looking for an easy target. That’s when she saw a bunch of people, some soldiers even, already in the heat of battle. She was still too far away to recognize any familiar face, but Anya knew without a doubt her loved ones would be there. She just hoped her hiding spot behind some debris would protect her from the demons and vampires she was going to turn into pincushions long enough for her to find Giles or one of her friends. 

Landon was practically shaking from anxiety. "Come on Flint, keep it together." What, he was even talking to himself now? He had the choice to run earlier and didn't take it. He decided to do the brave thing, now he was going through with it, no matter the consequence--It was the right thing to do. That note didn't direct him to ATHENA by mere coincidence, he knew now more than ever--that it was destiny. He couldn't be a competitive athlete anymore, that ship had long since sailed. But he could do his part to make sure the world was still around so other people could have that dream. With a sword sheathed on his back, quiver around his waist and bow in his right hand, he immediately went and took his place in the second line into battle--and not a moment too soon. Those super-vamp freaks were already within sight, and range. Landon got out an arrow and quickly took aim. "This is for not letting me get a good nights sleep, you fucking bloodsucker!" 

Wesley fell into line beside Buffy. "You're far more punctual these days than you were in high school." He offered an easy smile, just a momentary break from the death and destruction surrounding them. He wasted no time in raising his weapons. Guns were holstered beneath his jacket and at his ankles (one could never be too careful, especially when the military might invade at any moment) but the crossbow was familiar in his hands. He loosened a bolt, sending it through the eye of the Turok-Han that was charging Buffy with destruction and intent on its mind. It slowed and whelped enough for her to easily finish the job, and he reloaded. The rest of the battle wouldn't be so easy. He turned his head at the sound of military trucks, his arms stiffening. "Looks as though the cavalry is here." His tone was dry as the concrete and dust at his feet. 

Xander nodded as Wesley and Illyria arrived, smiling at the other man's quip. Wasn't about to tell Wesley it, but he felt far more comfortable fighting alongside him when he wasn't wielding a shotgun. Had it seriously been just a few weeks ago with that hellhound? He could hear a military team approaching - maybe MI-12 wasn't so bad after all. He had no idea whether any of them were sufficiently trained to deal with actual demons, but they could hope, at the very least. He looked around, trying to recognise anyone else in the chaos of demons. Something was coming from there left flank, green and lizardlike, similar to the Varrel he and Peyton had faced but smaller. Two more followed in its wake, and Xander raised his battle axe once more. "Heads up this way," he said, hopefully not distracting the others from their own fights 

Simon made a note of Gen's reluctance. Not the warm welcome he was exactly hoping for, but battle zones weren't the place to get choosy. He squeezed her shoulder. "It's good seeing you at all. Do I get to fight with?"

Gen spoke to him with the subtlety of her body language, moving closer to him while staying in formation. "I'm on duty. It's not up to me. Not my unit." Her words were almost an apology, but she had a job to do, a mission, and an obligation. If anyone could understand that, he could.

Illyria covered Wesley's right side, dispatching one of the Turok Han with ease. The body vanished. Illyria turned her attention elsewhere, surveying the scene with curious eyes. Hellmouths were easily opened but not so easily closed. What could conclude this scourge? Illyria wondered in the moments between combat and rest. She overpowered another vampire, hardly giving it a second glance after its struggling ceased. Vermin, she thought in disgust. 

Estela critically looked over at Simon impassively. They might very well all die today. Better that they have the opportunity to fight side by side than apart. "You and Simon regroup to Bravo. They have the firestarter, Brooks, with them. Consolidate with Buffy since she's bound to be out here somewhere." It wasn't a request. "Miller, fall in command with me." Estela raised her voice smoothly, clicking on her comm just long enough to speak with the other units, "All units consolidate with shadow teams. Delta, move up to the high ground in the office building to the eat and provide long ranged support. Be advised of civvies fighting without uniforms. Eyes on the demons, not the humans. Move, now." 

Maggie found the chaos of the Hellmouth to be so immense even the demonic creatures pouring out seemed unsure of direction, of whom to attack first, or even where their potential victims could lay. Her eyes fell on one particularly demon guzzling away on an innocent bystander (a woman, around Maggie's age, a Morrisons' shopping bag in her hand) it had killed with what appeared to be a single blow. Maggie took aim and the arrow pierced right through the demon's neck, killing it instantly. A Turok-Han would not be so easily beaten, and she kept her eyes peeled for any sign of the primordial vampires as she picked through the fight, dodging what she knew she had no chance against and would be better left to Slayers, and taking out those she had a chance at. She wanted to keep looking to her side, looking behind her, to check, to reassure herself that Kennedy was still there fighting with the fervour she always had on patrol and more besides, but she couldn't afford to and she knew the girl would kill her if she distracted herself even that much. She fired another arrow and was lucky enough in her shot to take one demon out and injure another in one go (he would be easy pickings for any fighter who came along). She needed to find Penelope. She hadn't carried her treasured sword not to bloody give it to her. And both Maggie and Kennedy needed to make their way through the lines, to join their comrades. They weren't so far now, minutes away. 

Wesley turned his head in the direction Xander had gestured. Green, scaled demons rose from the gaping hole in the ground, coming up to meet them. Somewhere below, Wesley could make out the orange glow of the open hellmouth. He could almost feel its heat. "I don't recognize the breed," he murmured, frustrated as he strapped the crossbow to his back and reached for his biggest gun. "But this works on most things." If anything, at least he could identify the fact they weren't vampires. He emptied a chamber into the closest one. The bullets barely dented the flesh, and when the creature squealed it was more in anger than agony. "Armor is too thick. Illyria, Buffy? I think this one is on you." 

"What can I say?" Buffy smirked as she sent her scythe straight through the neck of the Turok-Han, cutting its head clean off. "You learn the importance of time-management when you're on your sixth apocalypse." Buffy turned in the direction Wesley was, and saw the military filing in, but didn't have enough time to comment before Xander threw out out a head's up. "Got it," she called out, sending a powerful slayer kick to the demon before following up with her weapon. She wasn't given a moment of reprieve as another Turok-Han came her way. He got in a good blow to her ribs, and Buffy doubled over, backing up before trying to throw another kick. God, and she thought she was done with these damn things. 

Jayan had the blood of demons on her face, she could feel it wet and sticky, clinging there, but she ignored it. She was barely even aware of it. She was not even aware of the tear in her trouser leg, or the scratch on her arm from a Turok-Han she had allowed to get too close. She wasn't making that mistake again. Dispatch them at the greatest distance her weapon allowed. The further the better; give them no time to ambush, no ease of distance to reach out and grab. The danger didn't lie in their power or their size, but in permitting them close proximity. A demon she faintly recognise from a book ran at her, teeth bared- she swung under him and following the turn allowed her sword to carry her round, it's blade slicing it's head clean off, rolling past her feet. She did not spare it a glance as she turned to the next thing, a determined look on her face. 

Giles lost himself in the fray. Landon fought bravely, and not badly for someone who was relatively new to the game. He supposed all that training worked wonders, at least for ones upper body strength. He curled up his lip in distaste at the ant-demons that crawled from the wreckage. Horrid things. The sword in his hand would do them good, though. He swung at their legs and bodies, narrowly avoiding a bite. It was just as well. They would hardly have time for an antidote. "Watch out for the pincers!" He informed a clueless but gung-ho soldier who joined him. They weren't using guns. Shocker. Penelope and the girls' influence, no doubt. "They carry a toxin in their bites. It can be deadly if untreated." The soldier nodded, communicating this to the rest of the crew through earpieces and radios. At least he hadn't argued. 

Gen nodded. "Yes sir," she said unironically, crossing the battlefield to join Bravo team. She reached to squeeze Simon's hand as soon as they were far away enough that it wouldn't look grossly unprofessional. "I didn't hear from you," she sighed, gripping it more tightly. "I was worried something had happened, and that nobody would tell me because they didn't want to--I don't know--panic me." The worst part was that such things weren't entirely beyond the realm of possibility. She felt the engagement ring against her breastbone, under her uniform. Something to live for. "Come on." She sped up, cutting through an ordinary vampire who was apparently so far out of his depth, he might as well have been drowning as she made her way to the Bravo unit. Introductions were brief. They were joining this unit under Barros' orders. Nobody seemed to be inclined to argue. 

Anya‘s aim wasn’t perfect, and she knew that, which is why she tried to focus on smaller threats: a straight shot through the heart was the only thing that could stop Turok-Hans, but the same couldn’t be said about some of the other creatures that crawled their way out. She had killed at least a dozen of the small critters, but she knew she wasn’t really doing any good there: she needed to get closer to the actual battle. She started running from hiding spot to hiding spot until she could almost feel the evilness of the Hellmouth tainting her skin. A group of people were battling not too far from her, but she couldn’t be distracted now: a Turok-Han had spotted her and was already charging at her. Anya raised her crossbow and aimed for the heart. The bolt miraculously hit its intended target and Anya squealed in satisfaction as she saw the monster turn to dust. What she didn’t notice though was another threat creeping up behind her, silently getting closer to her. 

Xander looked around as the Buffy's next victim fell to the ground, fighting the urge to wipe the blood from his axe again. He;d taken down a grand total of one Ubervampire ever, and that had been with Dawn's help, so unless he was planning something stupidly heroic, he'd avoid those for now. Still looking for any signs of Peyton, or, even less likely, Oz, he spotted something just as worrying. Anya was crouched, by herself, working her way through the horrors of London. He spared her a grin of pride as her own enemy turned to dust, looking back at Buffy, Illyria and Wesley. They were all better fighters than him, Xander knew, even if him and Wesley was a close call. An ordinary vampire, taking advantage of the chaos, tried sneaking up on the four of them, and Xander swung at it violently, its claws catching his arm as it turned to dust. Panting with weariness - he'd been awake for two days straight, he turned back to look at Anya, eye growing wide as he saw the demon crawl up behind her. "Anya!" He broke away from Buffy's side, sprinting towards it. His axe bounced off whatever it was and it pounced on him, knocking Xander off his feet. The back of his head slammed into the pavement, right next to a broken lead pipe. Xander's grasping fingers tightened around it as he located the chink in it's armour. Blood splatter over his face as he stabbed it in the neck, pushing it off himself before scrabbling up, looking at Anya with an ironic smile. "You really need to work on the whole looking behind you thing." 

Pen followed in line with the unit. The closer they got, the more the city smelled of smoke, rot, and gore. A shiver ran through her as she saw rebar jutting out of the street and bodies bled into the sewage drains. Her eyes widened and she remembered just how terrifyingly familiar this sight was. The ash in her nose, sweat pooling around her neck, and blood, so much blood and howling everywhere. But the screaming wasn’t from her this time. And this time, she wasn’t helpless. None of them marching in here were. 

Wesley stiffened as the soldiers joined their forray. He was bound to see someone he knew, and they were bound to recognize Illyria from their panic and their security footage. It happaned about as soon as he'd expected. In the absense of a gun to point at her, one of the commanding officers - whose voice was as gruff as a personified bear - pointed a sword. "Pryce, you're in serious shit when we get back to base." Illyria would knock him to the ground before he said another word, Wesley knew. "I was taken, against my will." The words were only a partial lie. "My comrade was concerned for my safety. You can't blame her for that, sir." He uttered the final word with almost disdain. "And we were right, in case you still disbelieve your eyes." He reloaded his weapon, emptying the gun into a juicy, plump hellhound. He didn't want to dwell on the fact that was probably human blood on its nuzzle. "I'm here now. I'm doing my job. Are you going to help me, or are you going to argue with me?" Bear shot a cautious glance past Wesley, to Illyria, then lifted his weapon. "As you were." 

Maggie and Kennedy were closing in now, the two fighting side by side with a perfect harmony that seemed to require no communication. Maggie held her bow low, but loaded, ready to aim at the next thing. She ducked out of the way of something far too large for her simple human body and it bowled past like some sort of cannon ball. She could only pray something would stop it, but there was too much going on now and she had to prioritise. She fired an arrow at, shocker, an ordinary vampire (a sight that seemed almost pleasant in comparison) and felt the sense of satisfaction as it turned to the dust. As the ash fell, it revealed several army officials and a very familiar head of hair. “Oi,” Maggie called out, pure Camden, calling Pen's attention to her. She held up the sword, as she dodged a wayward arrow (That better have not been Landon's shot), “I believe you forgot something,” 

Pen knew the sound of Maggie’s voice at once. A smile came to her face as she looked her way. The woman was worn to the bone, with more bags under her eyes than she’d ever seen. Leading the pack had taken its toll on her and it had only been a few days. She nodded for Maggie to come up to them quickly. 

Anya heard her name and turned around, just in time to see a set of fangs about to close around her torso. It was too late to grab the hatchet. She closed her eyes and hoped it would be as quick as the first time, but the fatal bite never came. Xander struggled with whatever attacked her and actually managed to defeat the creature. Despite everything, Anya smiled. Here, on the battlefield, talking with Xander didn’t feel weird anymore. She got closer to her savior and helped him up before hanging her crossbow to her side and grabbing the hatchet. “Looks like I don’t need to do that anymore: my backup’s better than the last time.” Some other regular vampires were getting closer. She adjusted her footing and got ready to actually fight. Thinking about bunnies still helped. 

Giles had lost sight of Dawn and Dani somewhere in the panic. He cursed himself. He cursed the soldier (silently, of course), fighting through the hoard as best he could until he caught sight of another familiar face. Not Dawn. Not Dani. Anya. "You came back," he said, almost as though he'd been unable to believe it until she was right there. He lifted his head, looking beyond her at Xander. “And you’re both alive. Good.” He felt as though he had just missed something, but the change of subject granted him a moment of gracious distraction from the awkwardness of the situation. He squinted past both of them, taking heavy breaths as he focused on the second lot of military personnel he had seen. "And if I'm not mistaken, Estela and Penelope have their own army. How convenient." He was getting far too bloody old for this. Was he actually wheezing, or was that just the cut on his side, making it hard to breathe? "Come on," he murmured, lifting his weapon. "There's more where they came from." 

With a smirk, Landon shot another one of the vampires right in the heart with an arrow, dusting it on the spot. Easy. "Come on, keep it coming, I can do this all day." There was something else that was quickly approaching. Another strong vampire? No, it was some kind of bug demon. No matter, it wouldn't survive an arrow either. He took his aim and shot, but it missed. Shit! Please don't let that hit anyone! If the demon didn't notice Landon before--it definately did now. It was scurrying up to Landon way to fast for him to get another shot in. He had to get his sword, but he couldn't put down the bow or that'd be an opening for a vampire. He made sure to hold unto the bow tightly while pulling out the weapon from its sheath. By the time he had got his sword out, the creature was in arms reach of him! He took a leap back and then swung the blade. Got it! The demon fell to the ground, but not before some sort of gunk--demon blood?-- got all over his shoes and jeans. Ugh. He sighed as he put the sword back into the sheath and got his arrows ready for the vamps once more. Maybe doing this all day was a slight exaggeration. 

Patrick didn't get much further than the row of soldiers, but that was fine. He tried to get what the front lines missed, although the count of two dead Turok Han wasn't too impressive. He struggled, sent sprawling by a two headed demon before killing it with any debris he could get his hands on. Patrick clambered to his feet, preparing for the next attack. 

"Penelope, join Maggie and Kennedy. Reinforce Charlie and their shadow. They have the least amount of experienced support." Estela ripped a demon away from one of her cross bowers and rammed her knife up into the roof of its gaping mouth so she could kick the corpse away. "Alpha, Echo, we're moving up." They were just soldiers following orders and she was just some woman who'd only been around for a couple of days. But they followed, obeyed, respected the job. And knew that they were more likely to die than those who were more experienced. "Matheson, Erikson, drop back with crossbows. Everyone else, change to close combat. Swords and axes out." They began the forward push slowly, steadily, but more effectively than a disarranged slaughter. They efficiently cut down and cleared out but it hardly was going to come without costs. Her first one to drop was Wicke in a bloody scream and spattering of blood that splashed over her lips from the violence of limbs being removed by a particular hulking, scaled mass of demon. All flashing teeth and glaring eyes and roars that caused her hair to stand on end. Brennan followed in a symphony of cracking bones and shortened gasps. Crowe came soon after when a Turok-Han ripped his throat out just before Estela could effectively decapitate it with her blade. 

Anya wasn’t a trained fighter like the rest of them, but fear and adrenaline were fueling her arms as she swung the hatchet around and managed to defeat another vampire. Fear and adrenaline were also the only things keeping her from feeling the pain of the numerous scratches she was collecting. Hopefully they wouldn’t scar. During a rare pause in the enemies’ assault she heard another familiar voice. Giles. Giles was here. She ran toward him and threw her arms around him, not even caring about his or her own wounds. “Of course I came back.” Giles was right, though: more were coming. They had to hold the line. That meant they could die, of course, but they had to fight. Without really thinking about it she quickly kissed him before taking a couple of steps away. “Once this is over you have to buy more cheese.”

Giles' lips parted, startled by the gesture, but not entirely put off. "I, uh-- well, I'm glad. And...cheese. Yes." He swallowed, immediately regretting it. Dust and ash was on the air. It stung his throat, his nostrils. He caught a cloud of blue, moving effortlessly through the mob, and the thought hit him, as though he had forgotten something he needed to do. "I'll come back," he promised. He'd come back, just like she had. He squeezed Anya's arm before taking off again. He'd barely caught his sodding breath the first time. "Ill--Illyria..." he panted, sucking down air as she turned to face him. A Turok-Han shattered in her fist. "The... the man behind the ritual. He's down there." Giles' tired arm pointed at the hellmouth. "Can you... can you stop it? Stop him?" The ritual required him to stay in the epcenter. He was protected during the initial collapse, but anything outside of that, any interfering force... That was up to them. If the scrolls were right, they could stop it. He knew precisely what he was asking, and he knew Illyria was the only person for the job. Death didn’t come easily, to any of them, but weighing one life, the life of an already dying man against all these innocents? There was no choice.

Xander grinned at Anya as Giles showed up. "Couldn't let the hellmouth get you again, now, could I?" He replied easily, turning to stand back to back with her as they took down the other vampires. As the dust fell to the floor, Xander turned back to Anya who... had just kissed Giles. Oh. He hadn't known, and apparently, looking at Giles, he hadn't either. Xander expected to feel something, he wasn't sure why, but he had. Bitterness. Loss. But it never came. He was happy for her. He was glad for her. Even if it was Giles. Because seriously, Giles? He could deal with that, and she seemed happy. Giles ran off to Illyria, and Xander tapped Anya on the shoulder. "Isn't kissing mid battle kind of cliche?" 

Anya looked at Xander and shrugged. "At least I didn't propose."

Gen lost herself in the roar of combat. It had been a while since she'd done this. Come to think of it, she never had. She had been at home, safe and sound while everyone else defended HQ. Large battles had been too much for her then, but Gen had grown. She was proud and strong and vicious, sick of score cards and orders that didn't make sense. She and Estela had already changed so many minds. She was going to change even more, and she didn't care who criticized them. It was their loss. She felt sick to her stomach as she shot at a Turok Han vampire feasting on--someone. A female someone. Dark hair. Gen disposed of it, looking down as the body fell to the floor. No, no--it couldn't be. "Dawn...?" he voice was a hoarse whisper. She fell to her knees, shaking, as though trying to will life back into her. "DAWN!" A hand gripped her shoulder. People were looking, those close enough to overhear the anguished screams. It couldn’t be Dawn. She had too much promise, too much to live for. "Savidge," said one of the soldiers. Officer Mori. "Savidge, you have to get up. She's gone." Gen didn't move. She couldn't just leave her here. She wouldn't. The voice came again. "There's nothing you can do for her now. Stop the creatures that killed her. That's how yo honor her memory." Gen remained still, stubbornly resisting. Her heart pounded. Her sword was heavy at her side. When she stood, tears stained her cheeks, but her features were marked with ferocity. "We're ending this." 

Illyria heard Rupert Giles before she saw him, even over the roar of her opponents and allies alike. She nodded, hand touching Wesley's shoulder before she departed. The biggest foe awaited ahead, standing in the epicenter of the Hellmouth. He seemed…serene, despite the mayhem of their surroundings. Momentarily startled, she appraised him in the moments prior to her attack. A sick human. Was that all? She mused, surprise soon overshadowed by contempt and indifference. No matter. A sick human, one about to become a dead human. She raised the sword, bringing it down upon the man in a single blow. The body went into opposite directions, the sight undoubtedly gruesome to those of weaker heart. To Illyria, it was commonplace. After a breath, the building stopped rumbling. Demons continued to flee and attack the assembly of soldiers and civilians, although their unsurfaced brethren were now locked away below. She wielded the sword again, decapitating the nearest monster. Angel's words of a year previous rang in her head, prompted with some mockery from Fred, the first the godking had heard her voice since the news of Oz's disappearance. Illyria had work to do. 

Wesley lifted his head. Giles had rushed to him and at his warning, Illyria had vanished from his side. He fought on, a vicious creature taking his arm in its mouth, biting down to the bone before he blew its head off. The body collapsed on his chest and its mouth loosened, but it had bitten deep enough to go down to the bone. Damn hellmouth. Damn hellhounds. He could feel the pain scorching through him. It would be worse when the adrenaline wore off. Broken arm. How very convenient. Just as he prepared to continue fighting, the world stopped shaking. Everything became calm and serene all of a sudden. Was he dying? Had the injury been worse than he thought? This was what it had been like before, with the world closing around him, like going to sleep... But no, nothing faded, it all remained clear. She'd done it. Whatever Giles had said, Illyria had done something about it. They were safe. He mustered the strength he had, swallowing his breath as he shakily got to his feet. Penelope... She had to be here. But everyone was... strange. There was a body on the ground. One of their people. Brunette, slender... "Oh no." 

It was just one after another. Waves upon waves of demons with twisted features, flashing claws, bared teeth, armored flesh. A thick skinned beast deflected all arrows and shattered a sword against its flesh. One after another ended up falling as it became more and more difficult to defend themselves with a shrinking group of support. Miller had had to retrieve the crossbow from Matheson's twisted body. Only when the floods began to trickle away and demon after demon either fled or fell slain was Estela able to fully assess the damage. Swan, Erikson, Rowe, McCale, Avery, Spencer. All dead. "Units…" Estela slowly pulled the spearlike bone from where it'd been impaled through her body. It burned, bled, agonized. At least she was alive. "Report in." The entirety of Delta: gone. Shadow unit Tango: gone. Charlie and shadow Sierra: seven casualties. Bravo with shadow unit Foxtrot had remained the most intact with only three casualties. At least she'd made the right call in switching up those plans. Shadow unit Echo: three survivors. Commanding unit Alpha: Jack and herself. Miller? Gone. Fallen into the gaping maw of the hellmouth before it had been closed. Jack tried to apply pressure to her wound. It hadn't mattered how well organized her tactics were. The soldiers hadn't been prepared for what they had had to face today. Not even the best tactics would win out against a lack of exposure; knowledge. And Peyton? Estela had yet to see her or Xander anywhere around. Peyton wasn't there. Reaching out to wipe blood from Jack's cheek, nausea threatened to join the pain. Peyton wasn't there. Anywhere. 

Landon had been focusing on the vamps so much he didn't even notice when the shaking had stopped. He just kept aiming and firing arrows at whatever undead creature came within range, then they started to diminish...and finally...stop? Perplexed, he slowly lowered his bow and looked around. Did it stop? Was he just imagining things? Was he dreaming? Did he just get knocked out or killed by something and was this imagination? No...this was real. But nobody was rejoicing. Not a single person looked happy. Relieved, yes. There were heavy sighs all around as the battle had come to a stop. Did he miss something? It took him a moment to notice quite a few others gathered around a body. Oh...duh. When entering battle, there's always the chance of a loss. Of course people weren't relieved. He immediately felt a pang of guilt for having a moment of happiness before realizing that people had died for their cause. It wasn't anything to smile about. Honestly, he had expected to be one of the ones dead himself; but here he was, with only a few scratches. He'd be sore tomorrow; that was certain, but at least he was living. He doubted he would know the person on the ground, but if they died for the world, they definitely were an admirable person. He got closer to the body to pay his respects, but once he saw that face he immediately froze. He knew that face. Not well, but he still recognized the woman. That was Buff's sister, wasn't it...? 

Buffy caught sight of Giles and tried to rush to his side, only to get caught by a Varell in her way. She fought it off, chinking into its armor slowly before finally managing to take it out with one fell swoop of her weapon. Her hand instinctively went to her side where the burning sensation had started, and as she pulled it away, she noticed a pool of blood was left in her palm where the Varell had sank its claws into her. Then, she noticed something else. Where the world had been quivering beneath her, threatening to swallow all of London whole, the ground was now still. Buffy's brows furrowed as she gazed around, and saw that she wasn't the only one who'd noticed. Many people (and even demons) had stopped fighting for a brief moment, eyes all focusing on the gaping hole where the parliament used to be. Most eyes that is, except those of the person a few meters away from her. Wesley’s were fixed on something else—someone else, and Buffy ran over, putting a hand on his shoulder, silently letting him know that the battle wasn’t over yet and that whoever it was needed to wait for any kind of proper mourn—that’s when the features of the body began to register. Brown hair, slender face, blue-grey dull eyes that had looked at her before in so many different ways. Angrily, accusingly, mockingly, lovingly. She’d know those eyes anywhere. Except where once they had been filled with all those different emotions, all she could register was that they were empty. “No…” Buffy muttered, pushing Wesley out of the way and dropping to her knees. She pulled her sister’s limp body into her arms and wiped a few strands of loose hair from her forehead. “No…Dawn, wake up…” No signs of movement. She felt someone’s hand on her own shoulder, but the small gesture of comfort didn’t register. Neither did the hot tears already springing from her eyes. She kissed her sister’s damp forehead roughly, rocking her, muttering anything, anything to wake her up. “Dawnie, please, no. Not you. I can’t lose you, too….Dawn….” She knew it was pointless. The younger Summers sister was gone. And somewhere she knew people were still fighting, still cleaning up whatever demon hell spawn was left from the near–apocalypse, but it didn’t matter. It honestly didn’t matter that it seemed like they might have won. Buffy was sitting on the mouth of Hell, and Hell had swallowed her heart whole. But this time, it was her choking on her own tears. 

[into-each-generation]

On The Mouth Of Hell || Tim Solo

Spring had seemed to forget about itself. Either that, or it had been fed up enough to tuck itself away again. Tim was hit by the cold wind as he exited the train station at Westminster. As usual, nobody bothered him. He didn’t have a recognizeable enough face to make a difference, even with how outspoken he’d been about these damn laws. It hadn’t mattered in the end. They had passed them through anyway. The thoughts hung like a weight around his neck as he eased through the London commuters. His mouth still had that strange feeling, the unpleasant taste of mouthwash the dentist used. It was the only reason he didn’t have a morning coffee in his hand to drop when he saw the sight of it. "Oh my god," someone had cried, in a voice that shrank with disbelief as the fear grew. Tim’s eyes widened as the explosion of brick and rubble threw up a crowd of dust as the building shrank, imploding on itself as the earth shook and groaned. Parliament was collapsing. He’d thought the words just says ago, but they had been a figure of speech then. Now, it was real. "Come on, get back," he called, demanding as much authority over the situation as he could. Half the onlookers were more worried about taking videos on their camera-phones than getting out of dodge. "Oi," he shouted at a nearby pimple-faced teen, waving his iphone around as though he were filming his cat with a bad case of the sneezes. "Get on that phone and ring the bloody emergency services, would you?" It wasn’t a question. It was an order. The adolescent’s face blanched and with hands shaking, he began to phone, but it might have been too late. If they were lucky, perhaps they’d rescue some of his co-workers but Tim had seen enough disasters on the news to know that nobody would come out of that building the same, even if they did come out alive. The streets were still shaking, people were screaming, running, panicking, and Tim couldn’t blame them. He very well might have been one of them. The shaking of the ground was so intense that when the rubble began to move, Tim might very well have been imagining it. Nothing was stable. Not the economy, not politics, and certainly not the pile of crumbled brick that had been a London landmark - and had held several hundred lives. His heart froze in his chest when he saw it. “Move!” he cried again, his voice authoritive and pleading at the same time. It was grey-white, wide-browed and long-fanged. It had claws that protuded from long, thin fingers, pulling the mounds of earth aside as it climbed out. Demon. Vampire. Monster. The supernatural world had seen politicians do enough damage, and it was fighting back. A dozen clawed hands joined the fray, brothers and sisters of ill-intent and animalistic desire pushing through the collapsed building and into the grey afternoon. He needed to find Buffy Summers. Now.

[into-each-generation]

For if the Dark Returns || Solo

Read More

[into-each-generation]

I know there's the comics, but for me personally, when IEG ends I'm gonna miss it as much as I missed the show. You guys were/are good enough to consider canon, like a follow-on from the show or something. And you brought it back to life with your fresh ideas, characters, and plots, while still remaining true to the show. All of that, and you made it a safe environment for everyone involved. You're all amazing writers, and I bet STC will be just as awesome

You're way too kind, anon. Thank you.

[into-each-generation]

Political Warfare || Solo (Main Arc)

The midday sun beamed in through the windows. It was heating up, almost as though spring was on the way. The Prime Minister grumbled, shielding his aging eyes and reaching out to fumble for the cord that would close the blinds. Spring indeed, he thought, though it was a shame most of London wouldn't get to see it. The thought would have caused a guilty twinge in his stomach once upon a time, but as he stroked his jowels with internal thoughtfulness, the Prime Minister knew he had worked well past that, now. There was no room for morality any more. The world was broken. This /dimension/ was broken. The only thing left was to leave it to the dogs - or, better yet, the hell hounds.

His mobile phone came alive with a small buzz and he adjusted his glasses over the bridge of his nose to read it. Bianca Timberlake. She had that silly girl looking at floral patterns for dresses for a new spring catalogue. A Slayer and Style, she called it. Bloody preposterous, of course, but while the girl's eyes were on her wardrobe, they were not on him. While everyone's eyes were on her and the other slayers, they weren't on him either. It all worked out perfectly well. He replied with a simple 'well done' before letting the screen go dark. He had better things to attend to today than Bianca Timberlake.

"Are you quite certain about this, sir?" his aide asked. "The public aren't going to be pleased when they find out we pushed MIRA through on the quiet."

He barely even heard the words. He stood, adjusting his midnight blue tie in the mirror, shirt collar fastened tightly against his expanding neckline. "It will hardly matter, Quentin," he said in answer. "Sometimes, protecting the world means making the unpopular choice." But that wasn't the reason at all. The Prime Minister had stopped caring about re-election. He would likely be dead before the year was out. The public could do nothing to him that his body already was not, and in searching outside the realm of modern medicine for a cure, he had found something even greater; the promise of immortality. 

"Very well, sir." His aide brushed off his shoulders with deft hands in spite of the fact the Prime Minister's suit jacket was already spotless. "Then I believe MIRA will have passed within the day."

That was what he was hoping for. 

Distraction wasn't enough. Opening the Hellmouth wasn't enough. It was all a matter of timing and precision and each step had been slowly calculated. Luther and Fellows had been his scape goats, warring with words, battling between them with their extreme points of view. People would blame Luther when MIRA passed, because the Prime Minister had put the words in his mouth. It had served two purposes. The first was a distraction, for the world to have already brought itself half to its knees before he brought them the rest of the way. The second, was the final step in his ritual.

Blood of the slayer, willingly given. 

"Do be sure our staff are ready to receive blood, hair and saliva samples from the first to come forward, won't you? I shall meet you in the hall."

"Of course, sir," came the reply, and off his aide scuttled. 

By the end of the day, they would be one step closer. Many would die, but he would live. And people claimed politics to be a selfish sport.

[into-each-generation]

Unfollow Mallory and Dani.

[into-each-generation]

The Perry Stringer Show || With special guests, Buffy and Valerie

Buffy 's nerves were sky rocketing as she waited by the entrance to the stage and listened as host Mr. Perry Stringer began to introduce her. She'd spent almost an hour getting ready in some random dressing room, having people wait on her hand and foot and throwing ridiculous amounts of make up on her. Needless to say, she felt like some primped up Barbie Doll. At least she was able to choose her outfit this time. She glanced over and saw Xander by the buffet table and shook her head at him, smiling slightly at the amount of donuts he had in hand. Knowing he was there as back-up was nice, even if it did nothing to calm the knots in her stomach. This truly was her first live appearance, and despite the fact she had once upon a time looked Evil straight in the eye, this still was definitely made the list of top ten scariest moments in her life. Suddenly, applause echoed around her, and the person with a headset on ushered her forwards, throwing her into the spotlight. And there she was. Buffy smiled and waved to the crowd as she made her way to her seat. Mr. Stringer was an older man dressed in a cheap suit with way too much hair gel, but the Slayer shook his hand anyway. “Hi Mr. Stringer, thanks for having me.” And let the fun begun.

Perry Stringer With the crowd abuzz about the guest that they'd been foaming at the mouth for from the moment that that juicy article was published, Perry flashed his bleached teeth and leaned forward from his seat conspiratorially with a grin as he began his introduction, "Tonight, folks, we have an amazing opportunity to get to know a very special someone from an article that I just know you all have read. She's the savior of the world and she does it while looking like a superstar while the rest of us have trouble getting our feet in the right trouser legs." The crowd laughed raucously. He winked and leapt to his feet, thrusting his arms out towards the side wing. "Let's give a big round of applause for THE SLAYER, BUFFY SUMMERS!" He enthusiastically shook her hand and gestured for her to sit down with a grin. "We're thrilled to have you here, Ms. Summers. Mrs. Summers, perhaps?"

Buffy took a seat with the best fake smile she could manage, which judging by the cheers from the crowd, seemed at least a bit convincing. Immediately the first question threw her off, and she felt her face flush red. Of course, the one thing she wanted to avoid. "Oh, no. No, you can just call me Buffy." She shifted in her seat to face him, directing her smile in his direction.

Perry flashed a toothy smile at the sudden wolf whistle from a member of the audience. "Well, Buffy, I bet there a lucky guy out there who would love to change that but we're so pleased to have you here that, in fact, we've brought a very special guest to surprise you this evening!" Winking, he turned again to the audience and bounced to his feet to throw his arm out towards the other wing of the stage, "Please give a warm welcome to the illustrious AND fabulous VENGEANCE DEMON, VALERIE PRITCHARD!"

Valerie had been waiting for this sort of moment all her life. Her own moment on a talk show. She had to say, this whole outing herself thing was working out way better than she could have imagined. Her name was on everyone's lips. They all knew who she was. And the number of people coming to her for vengeance since the article was insane. You couldn't get better self promotion than this. As she waited to hear her name announced, she took a deep breath and straightened her stance. She walked out, waving and smiling and went straight over to Perry to shake his hand and greet him. But her smile faltered for a split second. What was /she/ doing here? Uh, no one told her this was a shared bill. Um so not cool. "Hey, Perry! Thanks for having me here. I didn't know this was going to be a battle of the blondes," she said as she took her seat.

Buffy 's eyes widened as Perry actually welcomed a Vengeance Demon onto the stage. Valerie Pritchard. She'd heard about her, even read her article. It was a load of bull and she only hoped Anya's had knocked some sense into people. Well, obviously not if this botoxed Clooney wannabe had actually been stupid enough to bring her here today. Buffy only let her smile falter for a moment before plastering the grin right back on her face. They were actually going to do this, weren't they? Oh boy. “Neither did I,” she turned from Perry to Valerie, giving her a pointed look. Her eyes briefly flickered to the demon’s necklace before meeting her eyes. “I’ve been wanting to meet you, Valerie. I figured we’d cross paths sooner or later.” Different circumstances, sure. And it would definitely have been nice to have a sword right about now. She was sure Valerie caught her drift.

Perry turned back from a pointed look to the audience to the women with a bright smile. "We wanted to have this surprise for both of you to make things as unifying as possible. We have the demon representative and the Slayer representative! It's only fair that both of you get to share the spotlight. In any case, don't you both save the world in different ways? Have you ever worked with a Slayer, Valerie? And you a Vengeance Demon, Buffy? It seems like it'd be awfully distracting if they're all as gorgeous as you two."

Valerie kept her smile as best she could while looking over to the slayer. "I've wanted to meet you, too. I believe we have a mutual friend, you know. Riley's said a lot of great things about you. But I gotta say, I was always worried you might go with the trying to kill me thing if we ran into one another." She nodded in response to Perry's question. "I actually have worked side by side with a slayer named Freya. She was one of the people on the island. Tess, that watcher, I'm sure you remember her, she touched on it a bit. But basically there were six of us taken from earth meant to fight eighteen other demons to the death. And if we lost, our entire dimension would be destroyed." She waited a moment to let that sink in with the audience. "But we all worked together and fought and we all came back alive and the world's still around, as you can see. So yeah, Freya was amazing, really smart and resourceful and strong. We wouldn't have made it without her." A bit of an exaggeration, sure. Like it wasn't that Valerie disliked Freya but she was so playing this up for the cameras. But damn if she wasn't good at it.

Perry nodded sagely in understanding amidst the scatters of muted, somber buzzing from his audience. "That sounds horrible. So horrible but you definitely have come out on the other side as a hero and a friend to this brave, brave young Slayer, Freya. Maybe we'll see her on the show one day." His attention shifted to Buffy expectantly.

Buffy tensed at the mention of Riley. She'd nearly forgotten he knew her. Obviously they were a lot closer than Buffy thought, unless Valerie was just trying to goad her. Either way, the fact that she hadn't heard a single thing from Riley in weeks left an annoying, unsettling feeling in her stomach. Then it got worse. Valerie just outed Freya on live television. Buffy’s heart started racing just a little bit faster, but she kept her cool. She wasn’t going to draw any more attention to that fact. She listened to the rest of it like a good, little talk show guest as Valerie spoke, trying not to roll her eyes at her. This was such bull. Valerie was a murderer, a demon. Sure, she'd been on the island, but that was kill or be killed. And the audience was falling for it. God, people could be so naïve. “Most vengeance demons I’ve come across are definitely not willing to be as helpful as Valerie here,” she said it as sweetly as possible, nodding in Valerie’s direction. Ugh, this sucked so much. She’d been prepared to kill Anya as a Vengeance Demon. But if she came across as attacking her fellow guest star, she knew it could be bad juju. “Most will take your inner most desires and twist them. They trick you into saying you wish for something, and use it to cause as much destruction and chaos as possible. At least, that’s my experience, and I’ve had a decent amount of it. I’ve had a Vengeance Demon trap me in my own home while we were being attacked, and also knew one who turned someone’s ex-boyfriend into this giant, evil worm demon. My main goal is to educate people so they don’t make that mistake and get tangled up in something they didn’t ask for.”

Perry raised his eyebrows dramatically at the response and slyly said, "It seems that you could both learn from each other, eh? We obviously can't have you running around with the perception that all Vengeance Demons other than Valerie are dangerous. Maybe they just want a chance to prove that they aren't! And maybe not all Slayers are as friendly as Freya and Buffy, hey, Valerie?"

Valerie tried to keep from smirking as she caught Little Miss Slays A Lot squirming over there. Oh it was subtle, but she had all those great empath abilities and she totally caught just how uncomfortable Buffy was at that mention of Riley and Freya. She had to say, Valerie was loving every second of this. She figured Buffy would counter with that sort of answer, but she knew how to spin this. "I'm sure there are all kinds of slayers out there so you gotta imagine one or two aren't going to be super friendly, right? But I have to say, it's been pretty hard to get to know any of them. Like, just walking into a room with them is risking my life given that their mission is typically to slay demons. It's in their name. And just not all demons are inherently evil. It would be unfair of me to cast a blanket statement on them and try to kill them off for what they are. So I'm just saying it's true in the same token about us. All of us deserve equal rights, here. A chance to live."

Buffy didn't want to play this game. Sure, there were some demons out there who were less violent than others, but Vengeance Demons definitely weren't one of them. Their damage could be brutal, but she was stuck between a rock and a hard place here. Valerie was spinning this to her liking and Buffy could tell she was enjoying it. If she was going to come out of this with anyone on her side, she needed to play along. Buffy nodded as Valerie finished speaking. "I mean, if all Vengeance Demons become a citizen, paid taxes, I guess that could work. They also couldn't use their powers in any way that would harm people. So probably a negative with the wish granting. Which wouldn't be a problem, right? If you really are just wanting to fit in with society, then you truly should be an equal." She gave a small shrug and chuckled. "It's not like we all can grant wishes. Although, that would be nice wouldn't it, Perry?"

Perry laughed loudly with an exaggerated nod of agreement and then turned back to Valerie, "I have to say, Buffy has a point with the no-wish granting thing... But on that same note doesn't that meant that Slayers should go without their powers, whatever powers those really are, if we all really just want to fit in and be equal?"

Valerie smiled. It's cute that Barbie over there thought she wasn't prepared. "It just so happens that I am a US citizen with a valid UK travel visa. You have one too, right?" she asked the slayer next to her. "And I mean, I grant wishes as a way of helping people. The same way you go all hack and slash to help people. Perry brought up a good point. Is it really fair for you to decide who gets to use their powers and who doesn't?"

Buffy wanted nothing more than to wipe that smug grin off Valerie's face. "How did you become a vengeance demon, Valerie? I'm a little fuzzy on the details of how the whole thing works. Doesn't it have something to do with that necklace? Mind if I take a look? It's absolutely beautiful." Buffy leaned over with a small smile, taking the necklace in hand and appraising it. "Wow, it's definitely something." She leaned back in her chair. "If that breaks, you become human, right? I really wish it worked like that for us, but unfortunately, it doesn't. We can't just give up our slayer strength. Our powers were given to us against our will and there’s really no out for us. So, we try and make the best of it and use our powers to protect people.”

Valerie wanted to take Buffy's hand and yank it away more than anything in the world. But she managed to keep up appearances and even leaned in a little so the slayer could get a closer look. She did take advantage for a split second while she wasn't facing the cameras to make sure Buffy caught the daggers she was sending with her look. "I was invited to become one, yeah. And you're right about the necklace. If it's damaged, my powers go with it." And if you touch it again, I'll damage you. "Either way, it sounds like we both had to choose to help people."

"Speaking of how you've chosen to live your lives helping people, how have you both helped people in the past? Maybe you can compare stories since I'm certain that you both have amazing ones in these heroic lives of yours." Perry glanced at his audience who eagerly fidgeted in their seats as they waited to hear stories. "Come now, I'm sure that you have plenty of stories that you could share with us to give us a better idea of just what you do to in your day to day lives!"

Buffy shrugged shyly, the sides of her lips turning upwards into a small smile. "It's really not like that. We just try to help where we can." If there was anything she had an endless supply of, it was stories about helping people. She knew Valerie would be lacking in that department. Even if she did technically try and "help" someone, the methods sure as hell weren't something she could speak about on live television. It would ruin her "hero" cred for sure. "But if you're really looking for a good story, back in high school, our mayor decided he wanted to take over the world. He took on the power of this incredibly strong demon and planned on attacking during graduation day. Yeah, hello? Like we were going to let him ruin our celebration of freedom. I rallied together the entire class, and we took him on. We won, and it was amazing seeing my fellow classmates defend themselves like that."

The only word that came to Valerie's mind was shit. Shit shit shit. She could normally spin a tale ten ways to sunday but it was going to be tough going with the freaking slayer sitting next to her. Thank god she jumped at the chance to brag first, it gave Val a few precious seconds to pull some bullshit act of heroism out of her freaking ass. "I mean aside from the whole saving the entire dimension and all like I mentioned earlier, I can't say I've done much on that grand a scale as Buffy over here. But just the other day, I met this sweet girl named Clara. She'd just lost her boyfriend and her job and her house like all in the span of two days so she was at serious low. She wished she could have her life back the way it was and I was able to do that for her. I helped get her back on her feet, got all of it back for her. House, job, boy, despite my protests on the last one. Just like she wanted." Alright, all that was mostly true. She just sort of failed to mention the fact that Clara got her house back only because Valerie had sent hellhounds there to maul and kill the new owners. The job had been harder, but summoning a couple of Formicabrutes to attack Clara's successor and boss seemed to do the trick. As for the boyfriend, well he was with her now. Only Valerie put him under an eternal love spell. Though more like obsession. He would never want anyone or anything as much as Clara to the point of his own self destruction. He was hers forever.

Perry couldn't have been happier about how things were going so far and gleefully knew that there was still plenty of time to get even more delved into their lives and maybe even fish out another name or two of other Slayers or demons. Having it revealed that there was a Slayer named Freya running about somewhere in London would definitely have people abuzz with tracking her down and it had been revealed on his show. "Now those are some impressive acts of courage and altruism, I have to say. One of you led an army and one of you helped a woman get her life back together during her lowest point. And I can't wait to ask more questions," He turned more towards the audience with a promising smile, "once we get back from break! Stay tuned because I promise that it's only going to get better."

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We know things have been slow recently, so we just want to offer some reassurances. First of all, all players will be allowed to continue roleplaying until at least the 22nd of March. We are lifting activity requirements for all roles so para and dash activity is completely optional. We won't be reopening any roles and activity in these last few weeks will not reflect the likelihood of someone being accepted to STC or not. However, we do encourage players to use this time to finish personal arcs or get involved in the main plot. Some ideas are as follows:

Submit an article to the CAB about supernatural and political happenings in London.

Write about your character being involved in these happenings, how it affects them, what they will do or won't do to encourage the public to side in their favor legally speaking.

Explore and further develop personal relationships to put put them in a closing point in the next few weeks. 

Have your character write editorials for their blog or release videos about their role in the supernatural world to improve supernatural P.R. etc. 

If anyone has any questions or would like to discuss character direction or plot, please feel free to message us.

-Mod Team

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does this mean IEG will close on March 22?

We don't know the exact closing date because it depends on plot advancements, but we'll be aiming to wrap things up around that time.

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I'm gonna miss this rpg so much. I never had confidence to join, but it is the best btvs group around!!

Aww, thank you, Anon. Don't be afraid to apply for STC if it's something you're interested in (we're not that scary, promise).

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Can anyone join the new RP?

A resounding yes!

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I agree! Please still keep this RP up even when it isn't active anymore. I have so many good memories here.

The main blog will definitely be kept available! 

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The Mod Team is officially ready to unveil our new roleplay! It's been in the works for months now, and we're very excited about it. Applications will officially be opened on March 22nd, and the launch date should be around March 29th.

We'll be uploading bios and locations over the next few weeks (slowly at first), and we have over 100 characters written. There's a "secret" page with additional bios on it that are not on the open page (apparently tumblr has a page character limit, 'cause we hit it). We can send it to people who express interest in seeing other characters, as we'd love to have people know who they're applying for early to reduce anxiety.

Casey and Shev are currently available on Skype to answer questions, address concerns, and recommend characters, so feel free to message us.

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Even Death has a Heart

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The Start Of A Coalition || Buffy, Xander & Timothy

Timothy was wrapped up in a thick, woolen grey coat that covered his dark suit. Politicians. They dressed as drably as the British weather, him among them. Wind billowed around them, blowing a spray of wet droplets from the fountain into the chill air. By a miracle, it wasn't raining today, but the sky still hung a dreadful grey mass of clouds above them. Tourists hurried their cameras away soon after taking their photos of the statues and fountain as though concerned the gale force winds would blow them aside. Tim scanned the area, searching for a sign of a woman who matched the photographs of the young woman who'd contacted him. He, by force of habit, was early. He got the impression she wouldn't be late.

Buffy looked at her watch for the millionth time, making her way through the crowds of tourists and people. She'd spent hours trying to pick something to wear, but in the end Willow had convinced her not to go too over the top, stick with something professional, yet classy. Try to tone down the colors, too-- which was almost impossible. Eventually she managed to find a navy blue dress with some practical heels, and decided to go with that. Saying bye to Spike and Dawn had been even harder, knowing they really wanted to be by her side for this. But they couldn't, and Buffy was relieved that she knew they were home safe. They finally caught sight of the fountain, 5 minutes earlier than they were supposed to meet, and Buffy could already spot Mr. Timothy Fellows waiting for them. She turned to Xander with a small smile and squeezed his hand. "You ready, Mr. Harris?" Buffy led the way and immediately extended her hand in greeting to the politician. "Hello, Mr--I mean, Timothy. I'm Buffy." She stepped aside for Xander. "And this is my associate, Mr. Xander Harris. Thank you so much for taking the time to meet with us."

Xander stuck close to Buffys side, his hand curled around his phone. Okay, it was kinda lame, but he had been practicing his reaction time if something went sour. If Timothy said or did the slightest suspicious thing, Xander could have the entire Council and Slayers know within half a second, that was how long it took to send the message. And even strong tranquilisers weren't that fast, so he figured that was as safe as they'd get. It didn't take long to spot the politician by the fountain, and Xander could feel himself warm up with anxiety. Even though he knew he didn't have murderer tattooed to his forhead, it sure felt like it, right now, and that was the least of their worries. "As ready as you are," he replied quietly, tucking the hand with the phone into his pocket. Buffy had chosen this outfit, from the black trousers to the button down shirt. He could do formal speak, he was used to that, but politics was way out his league. Offering his hand to Fellows after Buffy, Xander smiled and nodded to confirm his name. "Pleasure to meet you."

Timothy blended in with his scarf wrapped snugly around his neck and the hood of his coat pulled up. He hadn't brought a briefcase or anything that would make him look spectacularly official. Everything he'd done had been to ensure they wouldn't stand out. "Pleasure to meet you too, Buffy," he said, shaking the hand she offered before turning to her friend. Also American. "And Xander." Odds were that if he went into a cafe or coffee shop to get them out of the cold, someone would recognize him from the news. It looked as though they were stuck with British winter. "I'm glad you decided to meet with me." He hadn't had much luck breaking through or reaching out yet, but it might make him look unprofessional to admit that, so he didn't. "We can approach this however you want. Formal, informal. This is about you, your needs, your people's needs."

Buffy nodded, trying to look as confident as Fellows did, even though she definitely didn't feel it. "Of course. From what I read online about your stance on the matter of ...uhm...the supernatural, you seemed like the most obvious candidate to turn to." Candidate, political word. Politicians liked political words, didn't they? Buffy made brief eye contact with Xander, and his slight nod encouraged her on. She sighed, dropping her eyes to the ground before deciding once and for all to drop the act. "I'm going to be honest Timothy, I'm not a politician. I don't do politics or speak the language of the law. So I might be a little better with the informal." She gave him a small smile before continuing. "I'm here because I'm concerned about my people. My people, who are also your people. We're not metahumans. We're humans with a small slight emphasis on the meta, but still human. This new MIRA policy is wrong and I based on what I've read about you, I was hoping you'd agree with that."

Xander looked Timothy over, trying to get a grasp of him. He seemed honest enough. Didn't look like he had any hidden weapons, and as far as Xander could tell, no one in the neighbourhood was a secret agent. That said, they were secret for a reason. As Buffy spoke, he gave her a smile. He was grateful they were sticking to informal, but was planning on letting Buffy do the talking unless they asked his opinion.

Timothy shook his head, his eyes and words gentle and professional in equal measure. "You don't have to be a politician," he said plainly. "That's what I'm here for. You let me worry about that language. What your side of it should be about is making them see you as a person, because that's what you are." His features dampened in understanding as she spoke about her people. "We are all people," he nodded in agreement. "I'm gonna be honest, this revelation shocked me as much as anyone and we can't look to policies that are already in place for other groups because... there's never been anything like this before. But I wanna break that new ground, and I wanna break it in the fairest way possible. MIRA isn't the solution. It's feeding fear culture and feeding a bunch of frightened people's need to control what they don't understand. So let's stop it, alright?"

Buffy felt herself relax a little. She still kept her guard up, but mentally...all the days she'd spent brushing up on her Politics for Dummies and trying to cram in information seemed to wash away as Timothy spoke. It left her feeling lighter, more confident. But isn't that his job? To make you feel that way? Like you can trust him? A small part of her brain told her. Buffy pushed the thoughts aside to focus on his words. She reminded herself once again that Xander was here to send out the Slayer Signal in case anything went wrong. "It is quite the revelation," she agreed. "For us, too. We had no idea this was going to happen. One day we're just going about our business, fighting rioting demons, and the next, bam. We're on the front page of the CAB." Buffy really wanted to trust him. The way he spoke...he made it sound so easy. But she wasn't stupid. She'd been around long enough to know that anyone could say anything they wanted, but that didn't mean they had the plan to back the words. "I'd like to stop it just as much as you. But do you have a plan? You want to break new ground, I get that, but meanwhile, I have Slayers fearing for their lives. These are normal girls, Tim. Some of them as young as 15 years old." Thinking of Dani back at ATHENA only made her words more clear and concise as she spoke. "I'm not going to let anything happen to them. Not because of a stupid law, or because of a bunch of scared people with pitchforks. I'm willing to do whatever you need me to do, but if we're going to do it, they're my number one priority. Keeping them safe comes first. Can you guarantee your plans involve that?"

"Can I ask," Timothy said after a moment, careful of overstepping the boundaries of civility, "what were the riots about? It's not normally that bad. Can't be, if it's been kept underground for so long." What had started the rioting was hardly relevant now. He asked mostly for his own curiosity's sake. He shook his head, almost dismissing the thought. She'd already moved on to another anyway. "Look, Buffy, changes are gonna have to be made. There's no way the public or the government is going to want things to just carry on as they are, especially after what's happened... But I can tell you, in most sincere terms, that I don't want anyone to be punished or oppressed based on how they were born."

"Six people were taken from Earth to fight in a battle for dimensions a couple of months ago. We won and the demons whose home dimensions were destroyed didn't like it," Buffy said casually, then let him continue. As he kept speaking, Buffy knew Timothy was right. As much as she wanted to keep the Slayers out of this, they were very much in it already. She knew there were going to have to be changes, that all the Slayers couldn't stay hidden away forever. Some were going to be exposed, and for some of them, it would be against their wills. She knew all of this coming in, and yet a part of her still couldn't help hating him a little for saying it. But that was the Slayer side of her. The side that would throw herself in harm's way to protect those she cared about. She couldn't do that here. Timothy wasn't a monster, a demon she could fight. Buffy hated following a set of rules. Heck, she made her own rules when she had to. But this was different. She was up against the government and the law, humanity itself, and she needed him on her side. On their side. Buffy turned to Xander first, meeting his eye and letting him know without words what she was about to say. "I trust you," she finally said after he was finished. "So what can we do?"

Xander grew tense at Fellows' question. The way Buffy handled it was more than casual, and Xander felt sorry for the other man. "Those would be Brachens, Varells, and Snake Eaters, by the way. It's like Tess Groves said in her announcement." He hesitated before adding the next part, but apparently the police already knew so it was probably safe to tell this guy. "She's gone missing since then, but we don't know what has happened." He looked over at Buffy, knowing what she was thinking. This was beyond anything they had ever done before. The closest they'd come was the Initiative, and that was not a situation he wanted to repeat. Ever. When Buffy said she trusted him, Xander breathed a slight sigh of relief. His hand was growing clammier around his phone, but he didn't let go, just relaxing his fingers slightly. In his other pocket was the list of nonviolent ways people could protect themselves, if an opportunity to present it came up.

Timothy lowered his eyes, his body stiffening. "Sorry I asked," he said, and meant it. Tess Groves, the woman from the press conference. Missing. His mind raced with the possibilities of what might have happened to her. "I could tell you as far as I know, nobody's taken her in, but even if they did, I probably wouldn't hear about it." That was far from comforting, but at least he was honest. "What we do... It's not my place to tell you. I can only advise, and even then I might be wrong. But it's about perception, representation, and publicity. You have to decide how far you want to take this and who you want to involve."

Buffy had only known about the missing Watcher for a day now. Her disappearance had sketch written all over it, and Buffy had the feeling that Tess Groves didn't just up and leave on her own accord. She was dedicated to her work, and that showed when she was arrested on live television. The idea that she would just leave now without telling anyone didn't sit right with Buffy. She eyed Timothy, looking for any signs of misdirection, anything that would give him away, but all she could see was sincerity and honesty written plainly across his face. So if he wasn't involved...maybe Luther was. Or demons. Or normal, regular pissed off people. The list was kinda endless here. As much as she wanted to help find Tess, that's not what this conversation was about and she needed to focus on priorities. "Publicity…well, I’m prepared to come out as a Slayer,” she finally decided. She’d been dead set on being the one to do this before, but now that she had a read on Timothy, it only solidified her determination. “But it is my preference to limit the exposure of Slayers for now. At least in a broadcast-y, all over TV kind of way. It's not just people they need to worry about, its the demons, too...learning all of their identities leaves them open for attack and an easy target. Which...speaking of demons, I read you have some interesting views on that. Would you mind elaborating?"

Timothy nodded in affirmation as Buffy spoke of her desire to come out as a slayer. She was a nice young woman, seemed to speak with authority on the matter and he could see people finding her likeable, easy to relate to. If she managed this properly, she could do a world of good. "I'm gonna give you the number of a friend of mine, alright? Marketing and campaign expert. She'll treat you right." He pulled out a pen and notepad from his jacket pocket, copying the number from his mobile and handing it to her. The tension shifted as Buffy spoke of demons. The city had been driven to madness by the demon riots. They were scared. His views on the matter shifted daily, sometimes hourly. "I'm not in a position to speak about demons with any authority," he sighed. "I don't believe in executions, but I don't believe in blowing up hospitals or feeding on humans. There are harmless demons who might benefit from involvement in our society, the rest... Suppose we have to take it on a case by case basis."

Buffy took the piece of paper and folded it up to put it in her coat pocket. "Thanks, I'll be sure to give her a call." She could see his hesitation talking about the demons. At least he wasn't going to throw out the welcome banners, and seemed to have a grasp that not everything about this was simply black and white. She felt herself warming up to the politician already. It kind of put a wrench in the whole political stereotype, and she definitely wasn't complaining. "I'm glad we see eye to eye on that. Demons are...complicated. Don't get me wrong, most are big on the evil, but we focus our priorities on the evilest of evil since it'd be kind of a big job to take them all out. And there are some who really aren’t violent, who just want to keep the peace." In that moment, Buffy really wanted to throw in something about souls, specifically--vampires with souls, but she figured it'd be a little much to handle at the moment. "Unfortunately, I really don't think a lot of them will be willing cooperate, but Mr. Harris has put together something for you." Buffy gave Xander a slight, encouraging smiling, letting him know he could explain.

Xander watched Buffy carefully as she said she was willing to come out as a Slayer. Out of everyone, she was the most experienced, probably the most capable to answer any questions anyone had. But she'd also be under intense scrutiny, and slaying would become very difficult. More likely than not, this probably meant Buffy'd be benched for a lot of stuff. Not that he was ever lacking it, but now more than ever Xander had immense respect for her. And he was digging this politician guy too, even if he did seem hesitant about demons. Well, at least he was willing to learn, because otherwise Fellows was looking at death by being too friendly to vampires. At Buffy's cue, Xander startled. "Oh, right, yeah." He reached into his pocket, carefully unfolding the sheet of paper he'd been so particular in typing out. He'd even had Oz read it a couple of times for spelling errors and to look out for any really dumb ideas "We've been compiling a list of non-violent ways people can protect themself. Wasn't sure how to get it into circulation, but if it could, it might go a long way in helping our cause. A lot of it's basic, wearing a cross and not inviting strangers in, that kind of thing." He handed it over to Timothy before tucking his hand back into his pocket. "I can also ask the Co- us to make a list of non-violent demons, or the ones that usually aren't, like brachens and... others, if that'd be helpful."

Timothy gave Buffy a grateful smile. This was going well. With the right support and the right partnerships, Buffy might make a world of difference to the cause and to her own life. She could change things on both sides for the better. He'd have been honored to help. Honored seemed to be the word of the day. When her associate pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it over, Tim's eyes widened in touched amazement. "That'd be brilliant. Thank you, Mr. Harris, I'll have this information typed up and released officially, as soon as possible." He pocketed the paper, extending his hand first to Xander, then to Buffy. "I wish you two all the luck in the world. You have my contact information, should you need anything."

Buffy almost rolled her eyes at Xander's slip-up, but was thankful that Timothy hadn't seemed to notice...maybe. The politician seemed generally grateful at the information, and Buffy extended her hand forwards to shake his one last time. "We really appreciate you taking the time to meet with us. I do have one last question, though..." she trailed off, preparing herself for an answer she might not want to hear. "This MIRA thing...what are the chances that something like that would get passed? Is there like, some kind of counter-act being drawn up?"

Timothy 's features grew heavy to match the weight of Buffy's question. "I'd like to believe nothing like that could pass in our society. There's opposition, human rights campaigns, reform... Something will pass. Something has to, but that, in its current form? I don't think so." Timothy would have given anything to be right about that.

Buffy nodded, quite aware that his answer hadn't been a definite one. She just hoped these new laws they were talking about excluded things like forcing Slayers into military branches they wanted no part of. "Alright then. We'll stay in touch, Timothy." She smiled and turned with Xander to head back home, letting out an audible sigh of relief when they were far enough away. "So, I think that went pretty well, huh?" She went to go put her hands in her coat pocket to keep them warm, the feeling of small paper rectangles making her smile excitedly at Xander. "And I didn't even have to use my notecards!"

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I haven't been a part of the group for ages but you guys are rad. Good luck with the new group.

Thank you, Anon. We hope you'll check us out over there.