"Bit Players: an excerpt from the journals of Jon Talbot"
rated pg, for dusty deaths.
i own neither the Buffyverse, nor the city of Los Angeles.
authors note: BEHOLD! The senseless public flogging of a plot bunny
that would not let me continue other, more important things.
feedback is good for the SOUL! (don't forget to tip your waiters!)
****************
"Bit Players: an excerpt from the journals of Jon Talbot"
****************
heh.
heh heh.
ha hah hahaha!
I hear someone laughing like a madman, and with a bit of a jolt,
I realize it is me.
I feel I have a right to it, though, so I let the peals of laughter
ring through the deserted streets, the tears starting to roll down
my cheeks as I sink to my knees.
I was certain that this most recent fight would be my curtain call,
that the three Vampyri that had caught me unawares would manage to
finish what the ravages of time and foolhardy stubborness had not.
But no.
I don't know who accomplished this, the relighting of the sun.
Nor do I particularly care.
I am pleased that it happened, of course, and the fortuitous timing,
was, well, rather fortuitous.
The smoky rush of wind and strangled, cut-short screams of pain and
fury that marked the end of the trio of undead which had set upon me,
I heard echo along the street I was on, and, I rather suspect, all
throughout the 'City of Angels', as those creatures who happened to
be out and about on the streets greeted the sun, after their period
of dark respite.
I try to find a clean spot on my kerchief, to dry my cheeks, now
caked with the dust of mylate, and unlamented, foes, and I use it to
move the smudges about, a bit, upon my spectacles.
Yes, I am pleased the sun has been returned to us, but I know our
work,
the work of all of us who "know" the "truth", is not ended.
Many of the Undead were caught unprepared for the sudden kiss of
sunlight, but so many more are now holed up in the bars, and
warehouses,
and dens of iniquity in this town,and while our task might be eased
a bit, or even encouraged, by our ability to toss a few incindiary
devices, to open the windows and 'let the sun shine in', as it were,
I know that by tonight, our fight will start to fall into it's
familiar ruts, and we will be,once more, facing the breach.
But it is up to us.
We are all in this alone.
We have no 'champion'.
And as I climb to my feet, i say a silent prayer, to Whomever may
be listening, for us all, we 'bit' players on this 'stage', who play
our many parts, and make our exits, hoping to have done some good.
rated pg, for dusty deaths.
i own neither the Buffyverse, nor the city of Los Angeles.
authors note: BEHOLD! The senseless public flogging of a plot bunny
that would not let me continue other, more important things.
feedback is good for the SOUL! (don't forget to tip your waiters!)
****************
"Bit Players: an excerpt from the journals of Jon Talbot"
****************
heh.
heh heh.
ha hah hahaha!
I hear someone laughing like a madman, and with a bit of a jolt,
I realize it is me.
I feel I have a right to it, though, so I let the peals of laughter
ring through the deserted streets, the tears starting to roll down
my cheeks as I sink to my knees.
I was certain that this most recent fight would be my curtain call,
that the three Vampyri that had caught me unawares would manage to
finish what the ravages of time and foolhardy stubborness had not.
But no.
I don't know who accomplished this, the relighting of the sun.
Nor do I particularly care.
I am pleased that it happened, of course, and the fortuitous timing,
was, well, rather fortuitous.
The smoky rush of wind and strangled, cut-short screams of pain and
fury that marked the end of the trio of undead which had set upon me,
I heard echo along the street I was on, and, I rather suspect, all
throughout the 'City of Angels', as those creatures who happened to
be out and about on the streets greeted the sun, after their period
of dark respite.
I try to find a clean spot on my kerchief, to dry my cheeks, now
caked with the dust of mylate, and unlamented, foes, and I use it to
move the smudges about, a bit, upon my spectacles.
Yes, I am pleased the sun has been returned to us, but I know our
work,
the work of all of us who "know" the "truth", is not ended.
Many of the Undead were caught unprepared for the sudden kiss of
sunlight, but so many more are now holed up in the bars, and
warehouses,
and dens of iniquity in this town,and while our task might be eased
a bit, or even encouraged, by our ability to toss a few incindiary
devices, to open the windows and 'let the sun shine in', as it were,
I know that by tonight, our fight will start to fall into it's
familiar ruts, and we will be,once more, facing the breach.
But it is up to us.
We are all in this alone.
We have no 'champion'.
And as I climb to my feet, i say a silent prayer, to Whomever may
be listening, for us all, we 'bit' players on this 'stage', who play
our many parts, and make our exits, hoping to have done some good.