After The Storm
Chapter 10
By Vixen
That night, after Angel successfully killed the ten-foot demon-y thing, the tribe and the newcomers from Los Angeles feasted together. In the one largest room in the cave, a mess hall that served as a fancy dinning area when the occasion permitted, the party went on through the night, everyone just happy to be alive. Raucous laughter and endless dancing filled the room, as the people of the tribe plied their guests with enough food, wine, and blood to keep them well satisfied.
Spike, for his part, had gotten pissed drunk. If the locals were going to treat him like a celebrity, he was only too eager to relish all the attention. A gaggle of ladies from the tribe had gathered around him, all wearing fancy leathery dresses. If animal skins could be considered a fashion, these girls were high class. One of them bounced playfully on his knee as Spike retold his tale of beating the demon for the hundredth time that night, making sure to paint himself as the top dog and the one who had come up with the plan to kill the thing in the first place.
Angel watched as the people mingled about, recalling parties at the taverns he used to frequent in his human days. He thanked the people for their hospitality, but his goal remained talking to the elders. They still had yet to speak with any one of them, and Angel's patience was wearing thin. There was work to attend to; there wasn't time to enjoy the festivities. Not that he would if there was time enough. He wasn't a festivities sort of guy. Instead, he kept to the corners of the room, lurking in the shadows and watching.
Every once in a while a warrior in animal skins would come to talk with him, asking him all sorts of details about his fighting experience, how he had fought the demon, and how he had won. Unlike Spike, he didn't like to get into the details, and he wouldn't play the hero. He'd done that before, and people had wound up dead. There were no heroes anymore, just people who did what they could, even though that was rarely enough. Angel just thanked each person who came to talk with him, and politely refused to get into details mumbling something about how it all came down to luck.
A little while later, Gunn arrived at the party with a much-healthier looking Fiyara. Making their way through the noisy din of the other partygoers, they came over to talk to Angel. Fiyara laughed as a dancer almost careened into her. Her people would be safe tonight; she wouldn't have to worry about the continual death that seemed to attach itself to that world. With Gunn following on her heel, Fiyara weaved through the party, working her way towards her target.
"Hey man, great party," Gunn beamed as he approached Angel. He was looking better, and soon might just be strong enough to rejoin the others in the coming battles, "Just what we deserve after everything, right?"
"Yeah.. right," Angel said, a little out of it. The sight of Gunn's worried frown brought his attention back. Shrugging off the unspoken concern he said, "It's just been a long day."
Fiyara nodded, "For all of us." Her demeanor towards them had changed drastically since they had helped kill the demon. Once cold and reserved, she had warmed up to them. Though, she still kept her distance in the way she stood. A quiet moment passed between them all before she spoke again, jumping in with the thing she had been waiting to tell him, "I have some news, if you feel like talking. Not here though. Get your friends and meet me outside in the hallway." She pointed towards the door Gunn and her had come through, "I'll be waiting." When she received a confused look from Angel, she smiled, "Don't worry, it's a good thing. I hope."
Angel and Gunn were left behind, not knowing which goal would be hardest: breaking Spike away from his new fans or even finding Illyria. She had disappeared once the party began, wandering off with some of the locals. She had seemed both detested by them and yet pleased with their admiration of her skills. By now she had probably started her own cult, just like in the days of muck and primordial ooze.
Simultaneously trying not to bump into any of the frenzied multitudes of dancers and carousers while avoiding those who wanted to talk to them until the sun came back up was a little tough as Gunn and Angel traveled over towards Spike. Gunn, who had missed most of the party, was highly amused though. He'd never received this much attention before. He was the man of the hour, and secretly enjoyed it even though outwardly he was all about what needed to be done. Finding Spike. And breaking up his little gathering.
As they neared the table were Spike was sitting, Gunn could hear his slightly inebriated voice carrying over the other noise, ".. I wouldn't call myself a hero, not really.. aw, who am I fooling, I would. A thousand times I would."
A loud giggly laughter followed from the girls who were practically falling on top of Spike to get his attention. Gunn shook his head, somehow even though he was usually a bit arrogant, Spike always managed to get the girls. How the hell did he do that?
"Spike," Angel said roughly, moving through the gaggle of girls, "We have to talk."
"Come on, Mate. Little busy here," Spike ignored the other vampire and leaned closer to the girls, about to start another part of his story.
Angel grabbed the cuff of his leather jacket and hauled Spike to his feet, "Now!"
"All right, all right," Spike pulled away jerkily. Brushing himself off, he turned towards the ladies, "Captain Forehead here has to talk to me. Wants to congratulate me on a job well done, most likely. It's been swell talking to you lot," He nodded towards one of them, "'Specially you." He laughed, amused at his own game. "But now there's work to be done. Evil is still out there and I—"
Angel grabbed his collar again, yanking Spike away from the table before he could finish his spiel. The girls watched as they departed, waving after their blond hero and icon. Angel didn't let go of Spike, despite the other vampire's angry protests, until they got a few feet away from the admiring fans.
Gunn had followed them to the other side of the room, when he spotted Illyria. He hit Angel's arm lightly to get his attention, and pointed towards a corner of the room, "Yo, do you see what I'm seeing, or is that—"
"Bloody hell!" Spike stopped arguing with Angel when he saw what Gunn had pointed out. His mouth hung open for a second before he began laughing hysterically, the wine he had consumed leaving him in a fit of laughter. "Blue bird's a lush!"
Angel just stood there, looking utterly confused. It was the last place he expected to find Illyria, but there she was before his eyes, lying on one of the tables. She was surrounded by a bunch of intoxicated warriors, though they looked like little more than frat boys, holding what appeared to be a crude funnel device, much like one would find at a college party. Illyria was holding the end of the funnel, sucking up the wine as they poured it in.
"Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!"
When she was finally finished with her drink, she let the end of the funnel drop from her mouth. It dripped a couple of drops of liquid onto her red and black catsuit, but she seemed to happy to notice as she held up her arms in a little victory. The gang of warriors surrounding her cheered, and she shouted over them, slurring her words, "I am a golden god!" More cheers emitted from the crowd as her head fell back down on the table and another person picked up the end of the funnel and began drinking.
"Girl knows how to party," Gunn said finally, breaking the silent confused that had settled over the trio.
Angel shook his head, still not sure if he was really seeing what he thought he was. After a moment he recovered from the shock and went to retrieve the girl. Upon reaching her, she laughed and kissed him suddenly. Grabbing him in the lip-lock with unyielding force, Angel couldn't break away until she let him go and fell back down on the table. He blinked away the overwhelming surprise and said nothing; there were no words that could even fit the situation.
The vampire could hear Spike laughing even harder back where Angel had left him. Pushing past the startled daze he found himself in, Angel grabbed one of the girl's arms and said, "Outside. Now."
Illyria let herself be dragged away from the party, bumping into a few people as Angel maneuvered her out into the hallway. Spike and Gunn followed behind them, grinning from ear to ear.
Out in the hallway, Fiyara had been waiting for them. She looked up as they came nearer. "I see you are all here. Now we can get down to the matter at hand," She began, very formally, "The elders have instructed me to make a deal with you."
"What kind of deal?" Angel asked warily, as he held Illyria upright. The girl weighed more than would appear possible, supernaturally heavy.. probably so that the old one would have a better chance at fighting off enemies. Just keeping Illyria from sliding down to the ground was enough work for the vampire.
"Our tribe has been beaten down time and again by demons that would like to see us cut down. It's been nearly impossible to survive in the face of the endless destruction that they wreak upon our people and our land. We need the help of those who know how to fight." Fiyara began her explanation, "We need people like you. We've heard stories of your coming, tales have been passed down from one generation to the next, stories about the men who will be equal parts demon and man. They said they would come from the sky and drink blood, but have the spark that would set them apart from the others of their race."
"By spark, you mean.." Spike asked; his voice colored by a tint of arrogance again.
"Souls." Fiyara filled in, and it became all too clear that they had fallen into another prophecy unexpectedly. Fate's a funny thing. Fiyara saw their group expression, the suddenly clarity and knew she was on the right track, "You have them don't you? Souls? Otherwise you wouldn't have done what you did. We weren't sure of it when you were brought in, but you've displayed enough empathy for the human race to earn some trust. Not to mention you already have human partner," she nodded towards Gunn. "In the short while you've been with us you've made us believe again, that we could keep the darkness back and that we might even beat it one day. No one should have survived that last battle, and yet we did because of your help. We'd like to welcome you to join our tribe, if you'd fight for us and train us to become better equipped at combating our foes."
"We can't," Angel replied, taking all the steam out of her. "I'm sorry."
"Wait a minute, Angel," Gunn cut in, "Helping the helpless, I thought that was our thing."
It had been, before Wolfram and Hart. Angel had seen those who believed in him, those who thought he was a hero before, people who had followed him. And most of them were already dead. Still, he couldn't just turn away those in need of help. "Fine. We'll try it. For a little while."
"And not only because you people throw the best parties," Spike added with a smirk.
"Great," Fiyara smiled, "I'll tell the elders. One more thing though, they have decided that from now on I am to be your liaison. Anything you want to tell them or ask them will go through me since it's against our code for outsiders to meet with them." She walked away without waiting for a response.
Deep in the pit of Gunn's stomach he had felt uneasy when she mentioned the word liaison. Hopefully, she would not end up betraying them like Eve or Hamilton. From the look on Angel's face, he was feeling the same way.
Illyria was slowly sobering up. Slumped in Angel's arms she picked her head up slightly, "I have imbibed the liquid of the low ones, I feel sick."
Angel looked down at the girl as she yakked all over his shoes, "Well, that's just perfect."
.....................................
Comments? Questions?
Chapter 10
By Vixen
That night, after Angel successfully killed the ten-foot demon-y thing, the tribe and the newcomers from Los Angeles feasted together. In the one largest room in the cave, a mess hall that served as a fancy dinning area when the occasion permitted, the party went on through the night, everyone just happy to be alive. Raucous laughter and endless dancing filled the room, as the people of the tribe plied their guests with enough food, wine, and blood to keep them well satisfied.
Spike, for his part, had gotten pissed drunk. If the locals were going to treat him like a celebrity, he was only too eager to relish all the attention. A gaggle of ladies from the tribe had gathered around him, all wearing fancy leathery dresses. If animal skins could be considered a fashion, these girls were high class. One of them bounced playfully on his knee as Spike retold his tale of beating the demon for the hundredth time that night, making sure to paint himself as the top dog and the one who had come up with the plan to kill the thing in the first place.
Angel watched as the people mingled about, recalling parties at the taverns he used to frequent in his human days. He thanked the people for their hospitality, but his goal remained talking to the elders. They still had yet to speak with any one of them, and Angel's patience was wearing thin. There was work to attend to; there wasn't time to enjoy the festivities. Not that he would if there was time enough. He wasn't a festivities sort of guy. Instead, he kept to the corners of the room, lurking in the shadows and watching.
Every once in a while a warrior in animal skins would come to talk with him, asking him all sorts of details about his fighting experience, how he had fought the demon, and how he had won. Unlike Spike, he didn't like to get into the details, and he wouldn't play the hero. He'd done that before, and people had wound up dead. There were no heroes anymore, just people who did what they could, even though that was rarely enough. Angel just thanked each person who came to talk with him, and politely refused to get into details mumbling something about how it all came down to luck.
A little while later, Gunn arrived at the party with a much-healthier looking Fiyara. Making their way through the noisy din of the other partygoers, they came over to talk to Angel. Fiyara laughed as a dancer almost careened into her. Her people would be safe tonight; she wouldn't have to worry about the continual death that seemed to attach itself to that world. With Gunn following on her heel, Fiyara weaved through the party, working her way towards her target.
"Hey man, great party," Gunn beamed as he approached Angel. He was looking better, and soon might just be strong enough to rejoin the others in the coming battles, "Just what we deserve after everything, right?"
"Yeah.. right," Angel said, a little out of it. The sight of Gunn's worried frown brought his attention back. Shrugging off the unspoken concern he said, "It's just been a long day."
Fiyara nodded, "For all of us." Her demeanor towards them had changed drastically since they had helped kill the demon. Once cold and reserved, she had warmed up to them. Though, she still kept her distance in the way she stood. A quiet moment passed between them all before she spoke again, jumping in with the thing she had been waiting to tell him, "I have some news, if you feel like talking. Not here though. Get your friends and meet me outside in the hallway." She pointed towards the door Gunn and her had come through, "I'll be waiting." When she received a confused look from Angel, she smiled, "Don't worry, it's a good thing. I hope."
Angel and Gunn were left behind, not knowing which goal would be hardest: breaking Spike away from his new fans or even finding Illyria. She had disappeared once the party began, wandering off with some of the locals. She had seemed both detested by them and yet pleased with their admiration of her skills. By now she had probably started her own cult, just like in the days of muck and primordial ooze.
Simultaneously trying not to bump into any of the frenzied multitudes of dancers and carousers while avoiding those who wanted to talk to them until the sun came back up was a little tough as Gunn and Angel traveled over towards Spike. Gunn, who had missed most of the party, was highly amused though. He'd never received this much attention before. He was the man of the hour, and secretly enjoyed it even though outwardly he was all about what needed to be done. Finding Spike. And breaking up his little gathering.
As they neared the table were Spike was sitting, Gunn could hear his slightly inebriated voice carrying over the other noise, ".. I wouldn't call myself a hero, not really.. aw, who am I fooling, I would. A thousand times I would."
A loud giggly laughter followed from the girls who were practically falling on top of Spike to get his attention. Gunn shook his head, somehow even though he was usually a bit arrogant, Spike always managed to get the girls. How the hell did he do that?
"Spike," Angel said roughly, moving through the gaggle of girls, "We have to talk."
"Come on, Mate. Little busy here," Spike ignored the other vampire and leaned closer to the girls, about to start another part of his story.
Angel grabbed the cuff of his leather jacket and hauled Spike to his feet, "Now!"
"All right, all right," Spike pulled away jerkily. Brushing himself off, he turned towards the ladies, "Captain Forehead here has to talk to me. Wants to congratulate me on a job well done, most likely. It's been swell talking to you lot," He nodded towards one of them, "'Specially you." He laughed, amused at his own game. "But now there's work to be done. Evil is still out there and I—"
Angel grabbed his collar again, yanking Spike away from the table before he could finish his spiel. The girls watched as they departed, waving after their blond hero and icon. Angel didn't let go of Spike, despite the other vampire's angry protests, until they got a few feet away from the admiring fans.
Gunn had followed them to the other side of the room, when he spotted Illyria. He hit Angel's arm lightly to get his attention, and pointed towards a corner of the room, "Yo, do you see what I'm seeing, or is that—"
"Bloody hell!" Spike stopped arguing with Angel when he saw what Gunn had pointed out. His mouth hung open for a second before he began laughing hysterically, the wine he had consumed leaving him in a fit of laughter. "Blue bird's a lush!"
Angel just stood there, looking utterly confused. It was the last place he expected to find Illyria, but there she was before his eyes, lying on one of the tables. She was surrounded by a bunch of intoxicated warriors, though they looked like little more than frat boys, holding what appeared to be a crude funnel device, much like one would find at a college party. Illyria was holding the end of the funnel, sucking up the wine as they poured it in.
"Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!"
When she was finally finished with her drink, she let the end of the funnel drop from her mouth. It dripped a couple of drops of liquid onto her red and black catsuit, but she seemed to happy to notice as she held up her arms in a little victory. The gang of warriors surrounding her cheered, and she shouted over them, slurring her words, "I am a golden god!" More cheers emitted from the crowd as her head fell back down on the table and another person picked up the end of the funnel and began drinking.
"Girl knows how to party," Gunn said finally, breaking the silent confused that had settled over the trio.
Angel shook his head, still not sure if he was really seeing what he thought he was. After a moment he recovered from the shock and went to retrieve the girl. Upon reaching her, she laughed and kissed him suddenly. Grabbing him in the lip-lock with unyielding force, Angel couldn't break away until she let him go and fell back down on the table. He blinked away the overwhelming surprise and said nothing; there were no words that could even fit the situation.
The vampire could hear Spike laughing even harder back where Angel had left him. Pushing past the startled daze he found himself in, Angel grabbed one of the girl's arms and said, "Outside. Now."
Illyria let herself be dragged away from the party, bumping into a few people as Angel maneuvered her out into the hallway. Spike and Gunn followed behind them, grinning from ear to ear.
Out in the hallway, Fiyara had been waiting for them. She looked up as they came nearer. "I see you are all here. Now we can get down to the matter at hand," She began, very formally, "The elders have instructed me to make a deal with you."
"What kind of deal?" Angel asked warily, as he held Illyria upright. The girl weighed more than would appear possible, supernaturally heavy.. probably so that the old one would have a better chance at fighting off enemies. Just keeping Illyria from sliding down to the ground was enough work for the vampire.
"Our tribe has been beaten down time and again by demons that would like to see us cut down. It's been nearly impossible to survive in the face of the endless destruction that they wreak upon our people and our land. We need the help of those who know how to fight." Fiyara began her explanation, "We need people like you. We've heard stories of your coming, tales have been passed down from one generation to the next, stories about the men who will be equal parts demon and man. They said they would come from the sky and drink blood, but have the spark that would set them apart from the others of their race."
"By spark, you mean.." Spike asked; his voice colored by a tint of arrogance again.
"Souls." Fiyara filled in, and it became all too clear that they had fallen into another prophecy unexpectedly. Fate's a funny thing. Fiyara saw their group expression, the suddenly clarity and knew she was on the right track, "You have them don't you? Souls? Otherwise you wouldn't have done what you did. We weren't sure of it when you were brought in, but you've displayed enough empathy for the human race to earn some trust. Not to mention you already have human partner," she nodded towards Gunn. "In the short while you've been with us you've made us believe again, that we could keep the darkness back and that we might even beat it one day. No one should have survived that last battle, and yet we did because of your help. We'd like to welcome you to join our tribe, if you'd fight for us and train us to become better equipped at combating our foes."
"We can't," Angel replied, taking all the steam out of her. "I'm sorry."
"Wait a minute, Angel," Gunn cut in, "Helping the helpless, I thought that was our thing."
It had been, before Wolfram and Hart. Angel had seen those who believed in him, those who thought he was a hero before, people who had followed him. And most of them were already dead. Still, he couldn't just turn away those in need of help. "Fine. We'll try it. For a little while."
"And not only because you people throw the best parties," Spike added with a smirk.
"Great," Fiyara smiled, "I'll tell the elders. One more thing though, they have decided that from now on I am to be your liaison. Anything you want to tell them or ask them will go through me since it's against our code for outsiders to meet with them." She walked away without waiting for a response.
Deep in the pit of Gunn's stomach he had felt uneasy when she mentioned the word liaison. Hopefully, she would not end up betraying them like Eve or Hamilton. From the look on Angel's face, he was feeling the same way.
Illyria was slowly sobering up. Slumped in Angel's arms she picked her head up slightly, "I have imbibed the liquid of the low ones, I feel sick."
Angel looked down at the girl as she yakked all over his shoes, "Well, that's just perfect."
.....................................
Comments? Questions?