Prologue: Transformation
A lone figure stood motionless on a hill, surveying the City of The Angels. How fitting that it now returned to a namesake, for defense of eternity. The darkness of the night both shrouded and glorified the warrior, servant of the Powers That Be, and an Innocent, as yet uncorrupted by the strains of evil seductively floating on the breeze. But alas, it would not be so for long. No creature, whether mortal or immortal, could remain among the Glorified once tainted by the Oldest and Darkest Evil which resided deep within the lights of the sinful city. The seraph's silvery wings rustled softly in the wind as the immortal listened impassively to the gentle song of the stars, reflecting upon the sacrifices essential for this humanity...this species which so willingly aided the Dark ones. It did not understand why those Above would not simply let these ones dissolve into oblivion. But it was not Its place to question, only to protect. Stretching forth Its hand, a heavenly light surrounded Its body like a holy veil, lovingly wrapped around a bride-to-be. In a matter of moments, It was stripped of Its glory and re-equipped with a flawed, human body; constricting and binding. So began the Sacrifice.
Chapter One: The Guide
A cloudy afternoon gave way to rain as the sole defender of Los Angeles strode through the streets; a vampire, named Angel. His dark chocolate hair matched the hue of his eyes, and attracted him more than a few longing stares, which were easily ignored by the immortal. The gentle rain accompanied his footsteps to his offices, where the phone rang a total of two times before Cordelia snatched it up with a perky greeting. Angel walked upstairs and into the room just as Cordelia hung up, looking disgusted. "Telemarketer." She said, by way of explanation for not speaking longer. "Find any new contracts?" She asked hopefully, eyes shining with the hope of another payment to their defense-for-hire company.
He shook his head, wiping some of the water droplets from his forehead, "None." A particularly nasty crash of thunder followed his words, concealing an ominous creaking of a door being opened downstairs. Angel heard, but did not go to check it out, assuming it was either another potential client, or a lost tourist. His leather jacket squeaked when he moved, so he took it off, not above becoming annoyed by the constant squeals of protest. The thunder crashed again, and all was silent. No footsteps could be heard coming up the stairs, so it seemed all was well. "I'm going to go make some coffee." He commented, striding past Cordelia. Man, how he loved rainy days. It shielded Angel from the sun's harmful rays well enough that he could stay outside, among the living, all days if he chose. It was a nice feeling.
"Hey, get me some too, will ya? I'm wiped--" The rest of her sentence was cut off by an obnoxious yawn, and then an unnatural silence fell. "Um–Angel?" Said Cordelia from the other room, chair groaning as she stood up, "I think you might want to see this client." Her liquid brown eyes were wide as she took in the appearance of the dripping newcomer. As her gaze traveled further on the person, she abruptly turned away, shielding her eyes, caught between a laugh and calling the police. "Um–On second thought, maybe you better just stay in there." A young woman stood in the doorway, soaking wet and completely, well, naked.
"What is it now?" Grumbled Angel, plunking his mug down on the counter and turning to backtrack to Cordy. Her next exclamation only intensified his curiosity, so with an annoyed sigh, he strode back into the office and abruptly wished he hadn't. Like Cordelia, he averted his eyes, struggling for words, "Uh–miss–you seem to be--" He paused, not really wanting to be the one to say something so obvious, and yet so embarrassing. Immortals, it seemed, were prey for such emotions as well.
Cordelia, on the other hand, had no such restraints. "You're nude!" She burst out angrily, throwing Angel's discarded jacket at her. "Put that on!" It took a moment, but the newcomer finally managed to comply, seeming to be confused in how to properly wear it. The garment was fortunately long enough to cover anything improper, so both the seer and vampire were able to look more analytically on this strange persona. An indignant rage welled up in Cordelia and she jabbed an accusing finger in the young woman's face, "Look, I don't know who you think you are, but streaking is crime for everybody in the USA! If you think you can just waltz in here and--"
The girl tilted her head to one side, and the angry words rolled off of her exterior like the rain outside did on the greased trash cans. "Are you Angel?" She asked, looking at Cordelia with a curious air of innocence. Her hair, which was nearly platinum-blonde even while wet, gave nearly no contrast at all to her pale skin. The only thing that didn't seem washed out or white on her body was her eyes, which were a serene blue. It was only natural to believe that she was mentally deranged or delusional, but something about the way she carried herself, like a regal noble, somehow gave an abstract basis for her sanity.
The ensoulled vampire gave the naive streaker one of his trademark looks of cynicism, and cut Cordelia off, "No." He said dryly, "I am. What do you want, and...where the heck are your clothes?" As though not really hearing what either of them said, the girl looked out the window, shivering at an invisible evil that no one else could see. After a tense moment, Cordelia impatiently snapped her fingers in front of her face. She flinched visibly, and blinked in bewilderment at Cordelia, then at Angel.
"I come, sent by the Powers That Be, to seek the leader of the sole guardians of this city of Lost Angels; humanity's last hope against the forces and principalities of darkness--" Abruptly, she sneezed, ruining the solemnity of the moment. The irate Cordelia stifled a smile, not so sure that the young girl had gone 'streaking' on purpose...that is if she were telling the truth. After wiping her nose ruefully, the woman continued, "I have no clothes, as I have never had need for them. Glorified beings have never been required to take on corporeal form before." Her tone stiffened, as did her posture, at this last statement.
Angel felt the urge to snap off another witty comment, but elected not to. However, he could not resist a faint smirk, "So, you're telling me that the PTB need yet another miracle to save the world...and they want me to pull this off?" When she nodded her assent, he continued, "And you are a non- corporeal being. Right?" Again, she nodded. In a sudden fit of displeasure and sullenness, Angel sneered, "Go ask Buffy, the slayer. She's the one who's always saving the world, and stopping apocalypse's of the like. I've got other fish to fry."He expected a feeling of pleasure from seeing the shock and dismay mirrored in her twin blue eyes, but instead felt abruptly and thoroughly guilty.
Cordelia obviously disapproved, and glared pointedly at him as she took the girl's arm, leading her into the back rooms, "Come on. We'll find you some proper clothes to wear, and then talk about saving the world." When they left, Angel sat down in Cordelia's vacated chair, massaging his forehead in annoyance. Business as usual in the City of Angels...
A lone figure stood motionless on a hill, surveying the City of The Angels. How fitting that it now returned to a namesake, for defense of eternity. The darkness of the night both shrouded and glorified the warrior, servant of the Powers That Be, and an Innocent, as yet uncorrupted by the strains of evil seductively floating on the breeze. But alas, it would not be so for long. No creature, whether mortal or immortal, could remain among the Glorified once tainted by the Oldest and Darkest Evil which resided deep within the lights of the sinful city. The seraph's silvery wings rustled softly in the wind as the immortal listened impassively to the gentle song of the stars, reflecting upon the sacrifices essential for this humanity...this species which so willingly aided the Dark ones. It did not understand why those Above would not simply let these ones dissolve into oblivion. But it was not Its place to question, only to protect. Stretching forth Its hand, a heavenly light surrounded Its body like a holy veil, lovingly wrapped around a bride-to-be. In a matter of moments, It was stripped of Its glory and re-equipped with a flawed, human body; constricting and binding. So began the Sacrifice.
Chapter One: The Guide
A cloudy afternoon gave way to rain as the sole defender of Los Angeles strode through the streets; a vampire, named Angel. His dark chocolate hair matched the hue of his eyes, and attracted him more than a few longing stares, which were easily ignored by the immortal. The gentle rain accompanied his footsteps to his offices, where the phone rang a total of two times before Cordelia snatched it up with a perky greeting. Angel walked upstairs and into the room just as Cordelia hung up, looking disgusted. "Telemarketer." She said, by way of explanation for not speaking longer. "Find any new contracts?" She asked hopefully, eyes shining with the hope of another payment to their defense-for-hire company.
He shook his head, wiping some of the water droplets from his forehead, "None." A particularly nasty crash of thunder followed his words, concealing an ominous creaking of a door being opened downstairs. Angel heard, but did not go to check it out, assuming it was either another potential client, or a lost tourist. His leather jacket squeaked when he moved, so he took it off, not above becoming annoyed by the constant squeals of protest. The thunder crashed again, and all was silent. No footsteps could be heard coming up the stairs, so it seemed all was well. "I'm going to go make some coffee." He commented, striding past Cordelia. Man, how he loved rainy days. It shielded Angel from the sun's harmful rays well enough that he could stay outside, among the living, all days if he chose. It was a nice feeling.
"Hey, get me some too, will ya? I'm wiped--" The rest of her sentence was cut off by an obnoxious yawn, and then an unnatural silence fell. "Um–Angel?" Said Cordelia from the other room, chair groaning as she stood up, "I think you might want to see this client." Her liquid brown eyes were wide as she took in the appearance of the dripping newcomer. As her gaze traveled further on the person, she abruptly turned away, shielding her eyes, caught between a laugh and calling the police. "Um–On second thought, maybe you better just stay in there." A young woman stood in the doorway, soaking wet and completely, well, naked.
"What is it now?" Grumbled Angel, plunking his mug down on the counter and turning to backtrack to Cordy. Her next exclamation only intensified his curiosity, so with an annoyed sigh, he strode back into the office and abruptly wished he hadn't. Like Cordelia, he averted his eyes, struggling for words, "Uh–miss–you seem to be--" He paused, not really wanting to be the one to say something so obvious, and yet so embarrassing. Immortals, it seemed, were prey for such emotions as well.
Cordelia, on the other hand, had no such restraints. "You're nude!" She burst out angrily, throwing Angel's discarded jacket at her. "Put that on!" It took a moment, but the newcomer finally managed to comply, seeming to be confused in how to properly wear it. The garment was fortunately long enough to cover anything improper, so both the seer and vampire were able to look more analytically on this strange persona. An indignant rage welled up in Cordelia and she jabbed an accusing finger in the young woman's face, "Look, I don't know who you think you are, but streaking is crime for everybody in the USA! If you think you can just waltz in here and--"
The girl tilted her head to one side, and the angry words rolled off of her exterior like the rain outside did on the greased trash cans. "Are you Angel?" She asked, looking at Cordelia with a curious air of innocence. Her hair, which was nearly platinum-blonde even while wet, gave nearly no contrast at all to her pale skin. The only thing that didn't seem washed out or white on her body was her eyes, which were a serene blue. It was only natural to believe that she was mentally deranged or delusional, but something about the way she carried herself, like a regal noble, somehow gave an abstract basis for her sanity.
The ensoulled vampire gave the naive streaker one of his trademark looks of cynicism, and cut Cordelia off, "No." He said dryly, "I am. What do you want, and...where the heck are your clothes?" As though not really hearing what either of them said, the girl looked out the window, shivering at an invisible evil that no one else could see. After a tense moment, Cordelia impatiently snapped her fingers in front of her face. She flinched visibly, and blinked in bewilderment at Cordelia, then at Angel.
"I come, sent by the Powers That Be, to seek the leader of the sole guardians of this city of Lost Angels; humanity's last hope against the forces and principalities of darkness--" Abruptly, she sneezed, ruining the solemnity of the moment. The irate Cordelia stifled a smile, not so sure that the young girl had gone 'streaking' on purpose...that is if she were telling the truth. After wiping her nose ruefully, the woman continued, "I have no clothes, as I have never had need for them. Glorified beings have never been required to take on corporeal form before." Her tone stiffened, as did her posture, at this last statement.
Angel felt the urge to snap off another witty comment, but elected not to. However, he could not resist a faint smirk, "So, you're telling me that the PTB need yet another miracle to save the world...and they want me to pull this off?" When she nodded her assent, he continued, "And you are a non- corporeal being. Right?" Again, she nodded. In a sudden fit of displeasure and sullenness, Angel sneered, "Go ask Buffy, the slayer. She's the one who's always saving the world, and stopping apocalypse's of the like. I've got other fish to fry."He expected a feeling of pleasure from seeing the shock and dismay mirrored in her twin blue eyes, but instead felt abruptly and thoroughly guilty.
Cordelia obviously disapproved, and glared pointedly at him as she took the girl's arm, leading her into the back rooms, "Come on. We'll find you some proper clothes to wear, and then talk about saving the world." When they left, Angel sat down in Cordelia's vacated chair, massaging his forehead in annoyance. Business as usual in the City of Angels...