ANGEL: FAREWELL PARTY
Spikes latenight musings and final personal act before Armageddon. Before Finale "Not Fade Away".
It was set, Spike knew. Perched on the rooftop of Wolfram & Hart, much like a gargoyle, the wine warmed his insides. This was Angel's greatest performance he thought. Deceiving us all, for the sole purpose to let us in on his secret.
Be ready to die.
This is the final battle, and there will be no Saint Crispin's Day speech.
Taking another swig, he drunkenly teetered over the edge listening to a police cars siren. The tiny red lights signified alarm. Warning. If they only knew the truth about monsters, demons, and the girls who fought them off. About this, the final battle...none would be sleeping right now. Or laughing, or fighting about things that are so small.
Tossing the bottle over the edge it silently exploded, its redness splattered the structure that made them promises and lies. A place so seductive in its power and riches. But only giving sweet nothings in return. There was only one true promise and that is death.
He replayed the moment of the pact. Listening to his sire tell them that ancient evil had the power to control everything except our will to choose.
And that this is the end. Saying it, the words rolled strangely off his tongue. He was ready to kill every single member of the Black Thorn. With that thought he quickly sobered, and growling he quickly shut out thoughts of the past. He understood, and as his teeth grew and his face became more predatory, he jumped.
Sailing over the edge, he landed atop another structure. His body rolled hard and fast....and becoming more fluid, he ran faster...picking up speed, again he jumped. Landing atop another building, he repeated...whispering "Goodbye England." Running faster, leaping higher, he continued, raising his voice. "Goodbye France, goodbye rotting city of LA." Picking up the pace, he hopped over the edge of the lowest building onto the alley pavement. He was hungry, and running past LA's sleepwalkers made him hungrier. Laughing he knew it would be so easy for him to get a late night snack.
The thoughts of the end still caught up with the fast predator with radioactive-white hair.
"They will be dust" it whispered to him. "This is the end" he chanted along, "but for one bright shining moment", remembering his words, "Burn the house down when we're still in it", he growled. Leaping down a particularly dangerous part of LA he saw a victim. She was going to die, and her attacker was a tall, broad shouldered man who seemed unstoppable. Spike theatrically landed behind his looming figure and began coughing loudly.
Again the thoughts crept up to him, reminding him of the pact they made in Wolfram & Hart.
Burn the house down when we're still in it. Something like that yes.
Head hung low with a sigh, taking in the gravity of what was going to happen tomorrow. He raises his hand for the creature he fought with and against countless times. But this time felt different. Not hollow or wrong. The only word that came to mind was FINAL.
Wesley made the promise to fight alongside them until the end. He long felt as if he stepped over some line. His acts seemingly were the ones of a madman. But this was the sanest and brave choices he could ever make. Quickly following his promise, Gunn and then Lorne swore their allegiance to Angel and the group.
The young woman screamed quite healthily for looking tired beyond her years. Spike walking to the rear of the alley, tapped the man on the shoulder and was quickly tapped back in the face quite hard.
"My ex girlfriend KISSES harder than that matey!!" Shaking off the punch, "See you must do it like this" clinching his fists, "first you ball up your fists, then you trick em!!!" Spike hurls his body into a kick in the side of the man-bulls temple. As the big man sways, he gives him 3 more swings and a remark about his father. Falling like a house of cards, he looks up at Spike as he lifts the lady up and tells her get out. Doing as he says, as Spike looks down at the man speaking low "I don't believe in harming the innocent, but I don't believe in killing shit like you right now either", as he walked slowly out of the alleyway.
Thinking about his final moments made him seethe. He wanted to show them how much more power he had. They had all the cards, they killed Fred, and they have already set in motion the Armageddon to end all previous. Still unaware what had been done to Illyria, everything else made him growl with such rage. His arms under his coat knotted with anger filled muscles, and his strong back rippled and tensed.
There is no way anyone is going to exercise tyranny and not pay for it.
The large woman-beater slowly lifted himself up off the ground remembering what his attacker just said. "I don't believe in harming the innocent, but I don't believe in killing shit like you right now either".
Shaking off his beating he began to set off to find that asshole that beat him. Stepping towards the street. The lean white haired guy walked quickly around the corner looked straight at him. Growling, he began to walk quickly to the larger man. Bigman stepped back for a second, surprised by this mans aggression. Then with false bravado walked forward. Spike immediately charged him, and slamming his massive body into the wall he growled "on the other hand I'm hungry, and I need to sharpen my teeth. Don't worry, this will hurt." Spike closed in on the whimpering man.
Blood. LA's sunrise looked just like blood. Blood was being spilled everywhere in this city. But so far, the blood in a particular alley, in Spikes apartment, and in Wolfram & Hart went unnoticed.
Spikes latenight musings and final personal act before Armageddon. Before Finale "Not Fade Away".
It was set, Spike knew. Perched on the rooftop of Wolfram & Hart, much like a gargoyle, the wine warmed his insides. This was Angel's greatest performance he thought. Deceiving us all, for the sole purpose to let us in on his secret.
Be ready to die.
This is the final battle, and there will be no Saint Crispin's Day speech.
Taking another swig, he drunkenly teetered over the edge listening to a police cars siren. The tiny red lights signified alarm. Warning. If they only knew the truth about monsters, demons, and the girls who fought them off. About this, the final battle...none would be sleeping right now. Or laughing, or fighting about things that are so small.
Tossing the bottle over the edge it silently exploded, its redness splattered the structure that made them promises and lies. A place so seductive in its power and riches. But only giving sweet nothings in return. There was only one true promise and that is death.
He replayed the moment of the pact. Listening to his sire tell them that ancient evil had the power to control everything except our will to choose.
And that this is the end. Saying it, the words rolled strangely off his tongue. He was ready to kill every single member of the Black Thorn. With that thought he quickly sobered, and growling he quickly shut out thoughts of the past. He understood, and as his teeth grew and his face became more predatory, he jumped.
Sailing over the edge, he landed atop another structure. His body rolled hard and fast....and becoming more fluid, he ran faster...picking up speed, again he jumped. Landing atop another building, he repeated...whispering "Goodbye England." Running faster, leaping higher, he continued, raising his voice. "Goodbye France, goodbye rotting city of LA." Picking up the pace, he hopped over the edge of the lowest building onto the alley pavement. He was hungry, and running past LA's sleepwalkers made him hungrier. Laughing he knew it would be so easy for him to get a late night snack.
The thoughts of the end still caught up with the fast predator with radioactive-white hair.
"They will be dust" it whispered to him. "This is the end" he chanted along, "but for one bright shining moment", remembering his words, "Burn the house down when we're still in it", he growled. Leaping down a particularly dangerous part of LA he saw a victim. She was going to die, and her attacker was a tall, broad shouldered man who seemed unstoppable. Spike theatrically landed behind his looming figure and began coughing loudly.
Again the thoughts crept up to him, reminding him of the pact they made in Wolfram & Hart.
Burn the house down when we're still in it. Something like that yes.
Head hung low with a sigh, taking in the gravity of what was going to happen tomorrow. He raises his hand for the creature he fought with and against countless times. But this time felt different. Not hollow or wrong. The only word that came to mind was FINAL.
Wesley made the promise to fight alongside them until the end. He long felt as if he stepped over some line. His acts seemingly were the ones of a madman. But this was the sanest and brave choices he could ever make. Quickly following his promise, Gunn and then Lorne swore their allegiance to Angel and the group.
The young woman screamed quite healthily for looking tired beyond her years. Spike walking to the rear of the alley, tapped the man on the shoulder and was quickly tapped back in the face quite hard.
"My ex girlfriend KISSES harder than that matey!!" Shaking off the punch, "See you must do it like this" clinching his fists, "first you ball up your fists, then you trick em!!!" Spike hurls his body into a kick in the side of the man-bulls temple. As the big man sways, he gives him 3 more swings and a remark about his father. Falling like a house of cards, he looks up at Spike as he lifts the lady up and tells her get out. Doing as he says, as Spike looks down at the man speaking low "I don't believe in harming the innocent, but I don't believe in killing shit like you right now either", as he walked slowly out of the alleyway.
Thinking about his final moments made him seethe. He wanted to show them how much more power he had. They had all the cards, they killed Fred, and they have already set in motion the Armageddon to end all previous. Still unaware what had been done to Illyria, everything else made him growl with such rage. His arms under his coat knotted with anger filled muscles, and his strong back rippled and tensed.
There is no way anyone is going to exercise tyranny and not pay for it.
The large woman-beater slowly lifted himself up off the ground remembering what his attacker just said. "I don't believe in harming the innocent, but I don't believe in killing shit like you right now either".
Shaking off his beating he began to set off to find that asshole that beat him. Stepping towards the street. The lean white haired guy walked quickly around the corner looked straight at him. Growling, he began to walk quickly to the larger man. Bigman stepped back for a second, surprised by this mans aggression. Then with false bravado walked forward. Spike immediately charged him, and slamming his massive body into the wall he growled "on the other hand I'm hungry, and I need to sharpen my teeth. Don't worry, this will hurt." Spike closed in on the whimpering man.
Blood. LA's sunrise looked just like blood. Blood was being spilled everywhere in this city. But so far, the blood in a particular alley, in Spikes apartment, and in Wolfram & Hart went unnoticed.