Title-- WIP, no title as of yet (suggestions please)
Author-- Anon E. Moose
Disclaimer-- I own nothing. Not even my car. All things Buffy related belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and Fox. All things Common Rotation belong to Adam Busch, Eric Kufs, Ken Beck, and Mike Uhler. Though I wouldn't mind having one or all tied up in my basement. Gotta start building that basement.
Rating-- PG-13, though that's probably too high.
Summary-- Takes place in the summer between seasons 5 & 6. What happens when the Troika start to come together? What happens when a certain indy folk rock band comes to Sunnydale for a gig? What could possibly go wrong?
He was bored. There was no question about it. A deep sigh escaped him as he looked around his room for something -- anything -- to do. The shelves lining the walls were filled with books- fantasy fictions and technical journals - that he had read and re-read more times then he cared to admit. Piles of old comic books littered the floor, surrounded with equal piles of laundry- some dirty, some clean, only he knew the difference. Three of the four walls were plastered with posters and ads for anything sci-fi. On the fourth wall, the one he leaned back against as he sat on his small twin bed, he had pasted every report card he'd ever received. His parents had highlighted all of the A's with a fluorescent yellow pen and the frequency of the grade gave the wall a yellow glow. The last item on the wall was a mirror. In the bottom corner of which he'd pasted a picture. His girlfriend. His only girlfriend. Ever. With her soft, brown hair brushing across her shoulders. And a smile promising him many wonderful surprises. Correction, he thought as his eyes rested on the picture, my ex-girlfriend. Katrina.
Warren shifted on his bed. Thoughts of his ex-girlfriend and the fun they could be having if she hadn't over-reacted about April, danced in his head. Frustrated and bored he ran a hand through his dark hair and headed out of his room.
"Mom, I'm going out." He shouted as he slipped out the front door. After the strange accusations Katrina had made during Spring Break, his parents had refused to continue funding his education. And unfortunately, for Warren, since he'd missed the finals last semester he'd lost his scholarships and been booted from his school. So, now, he was relegated to living at home, again, with his completely oblivious parents.
The streets of Sunnydale were dark. The moon hung too low on the horizon to illuminate the town. And for some reason the City of Sunnydale had never bothered to add more street lamps. Warren walked. He let his feet lead, hoping something interesting would happen. Probably just get eaten by a demon, he thought, that'd be interesting. He pondered the entertainment value of a demons gullet. Before too long he stood at the beginning of a front walk.
Elsewhere. The blue van rode swiftly along the road.
"Where did you get this thing, man?"
"Traded Mike's old bass for it."
"Who would trade a van for my old bass guitar?" Mike leaned forward from the backseat.
"Some guy who was kinda desperate to get to some monk or something. I think he said something about needing to work on his focus or something. He didn't say too much though."
"Okay." Mike leaned back in his seat, disbelieving.
"Come to think of it, I think he said he was from Sunnyvale."
"You mean Sunnydale?"
"Yeah." The driver, a good looking guy with soft brown waves and who was clearly a high school jock, smiled at the passenger next to him. That guy looked up from the magazine he was skimming for articles about himself.
"Eric, eyes on the road." He said to his friend.
"Alright, damn. Hey, Adam, how much farther is it to Sunnydale?"
Adam looked up from his magazine again and pointed to a sign up ahead. It read "Welcome to Sunnydale".
"So, exactly how do we take over Sunnydale?" Jonathan asked as he rolled the dice across the table.
"Haven't figured that out yet." Warren picked up his dungeon master guide and started looking up the consequences of Jonathans roll. "But between the three of us we can rule this town."
"Um, then what?" Andrew put down his character sheets to ask.
"Huh?"
"Well, once we take over Sunnydale, then what?"
"Oh… um… then we move on to better places."
"Oh, right." Andrew looked back down at his sheets.
"I hear there is a band playing at the Bronze tonight. Wanna check it out?" Jonathan asked. He reached for the dice again. Warren dropped his guide and picked up the monster book.
"You've just entered a cellar. Upon entering, you were snared in a slime pit. And there is an ogre waiting to attack."
"Hey! You can't have a pit AND an ogre! That's not fair." Jonathan protested. Across the table, Warren's face lit up as he started laughing.
"Listen up, Frodo, I am the Dungeon Master. I can and will do anything to keep you from succeeding." The two stared at each other, unwilling to give in to the other. Jonathan finally backed down under the heavy stare of Warren.
"You said something about a band?" He asked Andrew.
Author-- Anon E. Moose
Disclaimer-- I own nothing. Not even my car. All things Buffy related belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and Fox. All things Common Rotation belong to Adam Busch, Eric Kufs, Ken Beck, and Mike Uhler. Though I wouldn't mind having one or all tied up in my basement. Gotta start building that basement.
Rating-- PG-13, though that's probably too high.
Summary-- Takes place in the summer between seasons 5 & 6. What happens when the Troika start to come together? What happens when a certain indy folk rock band comes to Sunnydale for a gig? What could possibly go wrong?
He was bored. There was no question about it. A deep sigh escaped him as he looked around his room for something -- anything -- to do. The shelves lining the walls were filled with books- fantasy fictions and technical journals - that he had read and re-read more times then he cared to admit. Piles of old comic books littered the floor, surrounded with equal piles of laundry- some dirty, some clean, only he knew the difference. Three of the four walls were plastered with posters and ads for anything sci-fi. On the fourth wall, the one he leaned back against as he sat on his small twin bed, he had pasted every report card he'd ever received. His parents had highlighted all of the A's with a fluorescent yellow pen and the frequency of the grade gave the wall a yellow glow. The last item on the wall was a mirror. In the bottom corner of which he'd pasted a picture. His girlfriend. His only girlfriend. Ever. With her soft, brown hair brushing across her shoulders. And a smile promising him many wonderful surprises. Correction, he thought as his eyes rested on the picture, my ex-girlfriend. Katrina.
Warren shifted on his bed. Thoughts of his ex-girlfriend and the fun they could be having if she hadn't over-reacted about April, danced in his head. Frustrated and bored he ran a hand through his dark hair and headed out of his room.
"Mom, I'm going out." He shouted as he slipped out the front door. After the strange accusations Katrina had made during Spring Break, his parents had refused to continue funding his education. And unfortunately, for Warren, since he'd missed the finals last semester he'd lost his scholarships and been booted from his school. So, now, he was relegated to living at home, again, with his completely oblivious parents.
The streets of Sunnydale were dark. The moon hung too low on the horizon to illuminate the town. And for some reason the City of Sunnydale had never bothered to add more street lamps. Warren walked. He let his feet lead, hoping something interesting would happen. Probably just get eaten by a demon, he thought, that'd be interesting. He pondered the entertainment value of a demons gullet. Before too long he stood at the beginning of a front walk.
Elsewhere. The blue van rode swiftly along the road.
"Where did you get this thing, man?"
"Traded Mike's old bass for it."
"Who would trade a van for my old bass guitar?" Mike leaned forward from the backseat.
"Some guy who was kinda desperate to get to some monk or something. I think he said something about needing to work on his focus or something. He didn't say too much though."
"Okay." Mike leaned back in his seat, disbelieving.
"Come to think of it, I think he said he was from Sunnyvale."
"You mean Sunnydale?"
"Yeah." The driver, a good looking guy with soft brown waves and who was clearly a high school jock, smiled at the passenger next to him. That guy looked up from the magazine he was skimming for articles about himself.
"Eric, eyes on the road." He said to his friend.
"Alright, damn. Hey, Adam, how much farther is it to Sunnydale?"
Adam looked up from his magazine again and pointed to a sign up ahead. It read "Welcome to Sunnydale".
"So, exactly how do we take over Sunnydale?" Jonathan asked as he rolled the dice across the table.
"Haven't figured that out yet." Warren picked up his dungeon master guide and started looking up the consequences of Jonathans roll. "But between the three of us we can rule this town."
"Um, then what?" Andrew put down his character sheets to ask.
"Huh?"
"Well, once we take over Sunnydale, then what?"
"Oh… um… then we move on to better places."
"Oh, right." Andrew looked back down at his sheets.
"I hear there is a band playing at the Bronze tonight. Wanna check it out?" Jonathan asked. He reached for the dice again. Warren dropped his guide and picked up the monster book.
"You've just entered a cellar. Upon entering, you were snared in a slime pit. And there is an ogre waiting to attack."
"Hey! You can't have a pit AND an ogre! That's not fair." Jonathan protested. Across the table, Warren's face lit up as he started laughing.
"Listen up, Frodo, I am the Dungeon Master. I can and will do anything to keep you from succeeding." The two stared at each other, unwilling to give in to the other. Jonathan finally backed down under the heavy stare of Warren.
"You said something about a band?" He asked Andrew.