Wolf Tales

EM September

Mon, 10 Sep 2007 16:12:07 GMT

Wait until it is night before saying that it has been a fine day. -French Proverb

Everyone knows Murphy's law where if stuff can go bad it will and usually in really creative ways. We used to have 'Sunnydale's law' where if you were stupid enough to say something went right, or how could it be worse then Fate took it and ran with it.

Seriously, you said anything like that and it was instant jinx time. It was probably just part of the charm of living on our own Hellmouth.

Growing up there you just don't realize how strange things are until you move somewhere else. It takes a while to get used to the idea outside of Sunnydale you can make casual comments like that and not get the instant Fate slap upside the head.

I wonder if anyone else still cringes when they hear 'at least it's not...fill in the blank' besides me?

TM woods and creek

Mon, 10 Sep 2007 15:04:47 GMT

"You're the werewolf, shouldn't you be able to tell us how to survive in the woods?" It was the girl from the trio of people he was trying to travel with in Tibet. Oz had known she was going to be a pain in the ass from the moment they met.

"Werewolf from a large urban area, my experience in woods is a one hour nature hike in cub scouts." And the scout leader had called it off early because it was too hot and he had a date. Camping was not exactly Oz territory.

"So, we're travelling with someone who can't protect us and can't find his way in the woods. Great, what use were you again?" She had her hands on her hips and the elaborately made up eyes were narrowed as she glared at him.

Oz knew better than to try and debate, they had decided to come along with him on their own after all. Maybe she'd remember that on her own but if he pointed it out he was going to get a tantrum of Cordy-esque proportions.

Instead he shrugged without a word and slung his guitar case across his back with the pack he was carrying. There was a week until the full moon and he wanted to be away from these people before that happened. No sense eating little miss trendy over there when he had an excuse.

They stopped to rest near a creek. It was one of the guides they were supposed to look for to reach the village where he was leaving the rest of the travellers behind to continue on looking for the monks he'd been told about.

It was a scene that looked like it was straight out of one of those nature paintings. Damp moss and the tangy smell of fresh water surrounded them. Oz looked at their surroundings and expected to feel something, or anything, with the wolf inside. There was the same feeling he always got in anything approaching wilderness, the vague feeling of wanting to be somewhere you could plug in an amp or have a shower.

Apparently the wolf liked civilization better too.

Muse Oz
Fandom BtVS and AtS
word count 360

EM August

Sat, 01 Sep 2007 00:13:45 GMT

I always did the desert island disc thing. You know, picking which music you could have with you if that was all you were going to get to listen to forever, I always figured a guitar would be better though. You couldn't bring anything but the disc or the guitar and that makes both pretty useless. No radio and the disc is just something shiny to hang like a windchime. No extra strings and picks and after a while the guitar is a fairly non functional clubbing device instead.

After really thinking about it I'd bring Buffy Summers with me to the island. One thing I noticed about Buff, even early on when I was still fuzzy on the whole slayer and scoobies role in things, was that if she sets her mind to it there's a pretty short list of what she can't do.

So if I was going to be on a deserted island needing the whole survival thing and possible escape I'd bring Buffy.

TM 190

Tue, 07 Aug 2007 14:59:19 GMT

What would I do if I was temporarily turned into a child? Wow, hard to even remember the whole time as a kid thing. I don't think I was that much different as a kid, except you know shorter than I am now. Possibly much geekier, the whole red hair and freckles thing just does not go over well until a certain point in your life.

I think what I'd normally do is follow the things I used to do as a kid but then I'd have to pretend Sunnydale wasn't a big hole in the ground with possible exits into China. Hey, we're pretending aren't we?

The day would start with walking to the corner 7-11 and checking out the comics on the spinning rack. They don't really have those much anymore but they were very cool to look through. Check out one whole row top to bottom and spin just a little and look, all new books to look at. May not seem like much anymore but when you're under 10 it's kind of magic. Then buy a couple with the change I've scraped up along with a big slurpee and immediately go to sit under the hedges and hide out while they get read at least twice.

That part was key because my folks like all parents had this whole if you're sitting you must need chores thing going for them.

Really I don't think I'd plan much other than hope I wasn't really a werewolf then and that if I was it wasn't the full moon because tiny tot werewolves are sometimes less than careful about the whole biting thing.

Muse - Oz
Fandom - BtVS, AtS
Word count 272

TM topic 186 Religion

Mon, 16 Jul 2007 19:11:36 GMT

"Did you need something son?"

The voice jolted Oz out of his thoughts, and to be honest made him jump a bit. He wasn't used to people catching him off guard anymore the scents and sounds of heartbeats generally told him when he wasn't alone. The down side of being so involved in deep thought was that it kept him from noticing the other things around him.

"I'm fine, thanks." What did you call priests anyway? They all seemed to have a different title depending on the church you were in and Oz wasn't even actually sure which church he was sitting in at the moment. "I just needed a quiet place to think for a minute." Maybe he should move on, stop attracting attention.

"Well this is a good place for that, I like to sit here and think myself when I get the chance. Sometimes thoughts are easier to figure out if you share them." the priest wasn't pushy he was just offering the opportunity to talk if Oz wanted to have it.

"I'm not religious. Actually I probably shouldn't be here but...do you believe in monsters?"

The priest sat down next to him with a serious face. "I do. Both human and other kinds. Are you in trouble son?"

"I'm one of them. I do everything I can to keep others safe from me but I worry you know?" He didn't miss the quick flash of a cross at him while he spoke. The priest really did believe in the monsters then. "I'm not a vampire..." the priests face showed worry he was probably wishing he'd called the cops to chase Oz out by now. "I just have this whole full moon issue."

There was a long silence from the priest sitting next to him but at least he hadn't gotten up and ran for the door yet, it was a hopeful sign.

"Son, no one is more of a monster than they wish to be. Even the ones who wear fur for a few days a month are governed more by the human side than the other if that is what they want. I take the fact that you are worried about what harm you could cause as a good thing. If you are worried then you know what is wrong and what harm you could potentially do. It is those who do not fear who turn to darkness." he patted Oz's shoulder lightly. "You will do fine as long as you keep that in mind."

With a nod Oz stood up and started to walk away but he turned before he had gone more than a few steps.

"I kill other werewolves. If they hurt people I kill them." He wasn't looking for absolution or understanding but he didn't want the priest thinking he was better than he was.

"I will pray for you my son." The look on the priests face was one of utter sadness and sympathy.

"I'm not religious." And Oz shrugged his guitar up over his shoulder before opening the door and walking out into the sunlight.

Inside the church the priest lightly traced old scars left by teeth and talons under the sleeve of his cassock. "I am my son....I am."

Muse Oz
Fandom BtVS/AtS
Word Count 543

EM July topic - Habit

Tue, 10 Jul 2007 19:35:19 GMT

Oz never knew he was doing it unless someone pointed it out to him. And if they did he would glance at his fingers with mild interest and a soft 'huh' and stop for a few minutes. At least until his attention wandered to something else again and his fingers freed of the mind's influence would start to move again.

His fingertips plucked phantom music from every surface they brushed against. Edges of books, sides of tables, hems of fabric, they were all plucked with silent cords to echo the notes in the back of his mind. The callouses on fingertips built up from years of contact with metal strings made whispering noises as toughened skin tried to pull music from things not meant to make it.

When Oz was ten his parents had noticed the music in his restless fingers and gave him his first guitar. It was a small white electric that had died an honorable death five years later fending off a mugger on his way home from Devon's. Although he later realized that the mugger had most likely been a vampire since most of Sunnydale's living crooks were eaten in back alleys before they could commit crimes. If it was a vampire it was an even more honorable death.

It had been replaced by a red and white guitar whose strings pulled forth deeper sounds than Oz's first guitar. It's tones haunted him in class and while he slept leaving half of his mind trying to learn what new sounds he could coax from it.

When he left Sunnydale the second time the music died for a time with his heart. A habit he hardly even knew he had was suddenly gone and the stillness of his fingers kept dragging his mind back to the pain he just wanted to leave behind.

When a wolf is injured it goes to ground and waits to either die or get better. Oz buried his guitar under piles of clothes in the back of his van and broke the knob off his radio when it hurt too much to listen.

The day he made his first phantom chords against the edge of a diner table while waiting for his greasy fries he knew his healing had finally begun.

TM 181 Describe your perfect day

Wed, 27 Jun 2007 01:39:16 GMT

It's a perfect sunny day in California. You know those days that really are kind of absent but everyone thinks we have every day? the sun is out but it's about 75 degrees and not of the scorching variety. We didn't do a lot of daytime activities in Sunnydale what with the helping Buffy slay patrol. Plus I think being in a band it sort of made it almost a law that I had to be up all night and shun the light of day.

You know come to think of it I'm surprised there aren't more vampire bands. maybe the pyrotechnics are a scare factor for the undead taking the stage.

Anyway there's the perfect sunny day, there's no classes, no monsters, no apocalypse to be researching. it's just total down time relaxing time.

And there's Willow.

We lay together on the grass and she tells me that the clouds look like a Fyarl demon and I make fun of her for seeing demons in the clouds. But really the fact that she can do it and sound all happy and innocent about it...like the blood and the pain hasn't ever touched her in a lasting way...it makes me hope that she can keep it forever.

That's all really. Sun, clouds and quiet talking together. I think I could do that forever.

Muse Oz
Fandom BtVS/AtS
Word count 235

TM Smile

Fri, 11 May 2007 19:53:07 GMT

And Kara making me coffee the other morning made me smile.

After I brushed my teeth to her satisfaction anyway.

TM 178 Mommy/Mummy

Fri, 11 May 2007 19:22:29 GMT

I actually met a mummy once. Well sort of, I saw my friend Devon drooling over her at a dance while we were on stage singing. Not that it meant anything special that he was drooling. Devon was pretty much in that mode over anything female. Anyway turns out as long as they're properly fed Mummy's are surprisingly hard to spot in a crowd.

You know except this one because she was hot and attracted the lust factor of the lead singer. So we spotted her.

Of course I was too busy looking at a certain red-head in an eskimo costume for quality inspection time. Plus I didn't know that she was a mummy since she was supposed to be a foreign exchange student.

Only in Sunnydale would we import monsters under the whole exchange of education thing.

So, if you overlook the lack of face to face time I met a mummy once. Plus I heard the whole story about how she tried to suck the life out of Xander and others a bunch of times whenever anyone brought up the Xander demon attraction factor.

It's possibly I have strange friends.

Muse Oz
Fandom BtVS/AtS
Word Count 179

EM May topic

Fri, 27 Apr 2007 17:20:19 GMT

When you try your best but you don't succeed
When you get what you want but not what you need
When you feel so tired but you can't sleep
Stuck in reverse.

I'll never forget the look in her eyes when I grabbed her arm. Tara hadn't committed any crime other than being there for Willow when I ran away and I will never forget how pale her skin was and how fast her heart beat.

I went away to learn to control the beast inside of me. Only it hadn't worked the way I thought it would. Instead of controlling it all the time and only changing at the full moon I'd released the wolf to be free on any day and not just under the silver light of the moon.

I gave up everything to learn control. I thought I wanted to know my wolf better but I wanted Willow. I learned control but I lost her. Not exactly a good trade.

I also won't forget being tortured with electricity over and over until the wolf took over. I was in that cage so tired from turning again and again before I dragged myself back from the edge into my humanity again. So tired and not able to sleep because whenever I closed my eyes I wasn't sure if I'd wake up with skin or fur.

Two things I will always remember and hold onto so I don't forget the more important things. The look of terror inspired by me, and what will happen if I ever get caught again.

So I keep moving. I keep hunting.

I got control over myself but I don't have a home. Getting what you want isn't the same as getting what you need.

And that sucks.

TM Who is your best friend and why?

Fri, 20 Apr 2007 20:56:25 GMT

Can I answer from the perspective of the past?

Cordy told me that I'd probably be welcome at the Hyperion so I crashed and stayed and haven't quite managed to move out yet. Sort of that whole bet with myself over when Angel notices and says something but he seems busy as usual so it could be a wait.

I don't know if I even still have friends. I'd like to count Cordy, I'd like to think that someday Will and I can be in the same area without the threat of wolf out on the horizon. Most of the people I knew are all moved on and elsewhere. Do they even think of me when I'm not there? Maybe, I'm still here after all and there's that whole theoretical notion that none of us exist outside the perceptions of others. I like to think of it that way so I can feel like I still exist as a part of people's lives even if it is in a theoretical and not very solid manner.

I don't have a best friend. I have a wolf.

Muse - Oz
Fandom - BtVS/AtS
Word count 185

EM - April

Tue, 03 Apr 2007 14:53:09 GMT

The house was pretty much on par for the type of places he'd been staying in. Around the full moon sometimes he didn't trust himself around a lot of people. Instead Oz would find an abandoned house or barn and stay there until the three days were over.

They were usually damp and full of dust and mold but it was better than temptation he wasn't sure he could resist. He hadn't actually changed without wanting too since he'd attacked Tara back in Sunnydale but sometimes he could feel the need to rip and tear riding him. Sometimes they were haunted with more than dust and mildew. Spirits were trapped in some, for the most part they were sad things that he wouldn't have known existed if it wasn't for the wolf senses telling him they were there. Sometimes they were angry and resented him staying there.

This house had the most active one he'd encountered yet. The aura of hate hit him a good ten feet our from the house and he had to force himself inside. There was a dead body under the floorboards, and skeletons with their parts scattered around the rooms. The ghost had been busy, and efficient, in keeping people out of it's home. If you didn't leave, you died.

Oz pried up the floorboard and set fire to the body underneath. He didn't bother to try and keep the blaze under control after that. He just let it spread however it wanted to and left the house behind.

Sleeping under a bush was going to be more comfortable than that place.

TM 172 Parents

Tue, 03 Apr 2007 14:09:16 GMT

I'm not sure I'd change parents even if I had the chance. I mean our parents are a big part of making us who we are and I've kind of learned to get along with myself. That's not really in the spirit though so let me try to come up with some.

Betty and Barney Rubble. Ok, they may not count because of being cartoons and all but how is it more impossible to have celluloid parents then dead people from the 1700s if that was who I picked?

They were good people. Barney was a hard worker and managed to not always fall for slacking off with Fred if it was really important. Betty was pretty and a lot smarter than Wilma because she married the good guy instead of the cave man with the plan. Plus they had Bam Bam and one kid with superpowers should make raising a werewolf a snap. They were kind of a happy family, that earns them major points.

Muse: Oz
Fandom: BtvS/AtS
Word count: 168

TM - Showing up in LA

Thu, 29 Mar 2007 14:04:57 GMT

(ooc: Rp for anyone at the Hyperion or just for Cordy if no one else feels like jumping in)

Last time he'd come back it had been to Sunnydale and it had felt like coming home. Of course he'd found out that the home he'd been coming back to had already moved on. He couldn't blame Willow, he'd left her behind and expected her to wait while he got his head together.

This time it felt like any other city he was visiting. Maybe he knew some people here but there wasn't any real draw to keep him here other than that. Maybe that should be enough, maybe he'd forgotten how good it could be to have people around who knew you.

It had been good talking to Cordy in the journal, sort of a awaken a part of himself that hadn't really gotten any use in a while thing. Maybe he could stay for a while, find a job to keep him in food and maybe get a place so he could stop hitting people up for crash space.

Maybe.

The last time he was at the Hyperion Angel had been kidnapped and tortured with hot pokers by Spike. Looking around at the lobby Oz kind of hoped this visit would involve a little more hang out and have a drink and a little less with the hanging by the thumbs for information. And that thought caused a smile, because when had any of them had a boring life?

"Hey, anyone home?"

TM - 170 Time

Wed, 28 Mar 2007 12:52:58 GMT

Time is something that no one can agree on. One view is that it's linear and everything happens back to front in a specific order never changing. Others say time is a circle and you start and go round and round always coming back to the beginning to start again. The wheel of the seasons, the circuit around the sun. The rise and fall of the moon every day. Oz's favorite view of time was still from "Quantum Leap" where the string of your own life touched itself in a knotted up ball and you could leap across from point to point. He could do without the getting stuck in others people's bodies though. High heels were a bitch to walk in.

As far as Oz can tell time runs different depending on whether he walks beneath the golden light of the sun or runs in the silver light of the moon. He can feel the moon no matter where he is when it rises. Even inside a sealed room he can feel it ignite something inside of him.

Maybe it's just the two sides of him move through time differently. Learning to control the wolf seemed to open him more to how it saw things. Walking under the moon it's hard to remember that there was a yesterday and that there will be a tomorrow again. Under the silver light it's all right now and that's all that matters.

Maybe that's the way a person should see things.

Walking with the wolf was like losing himself in his music. He slipped into time where nothing mattered but the notes and the feel of metal strings under his fingers.

But there was still the human inside of him as well and it couldn't live caught inside the moment forever.

When Oz was eight he read the Jungle book. Mowgli was a human adopted by a pack of wolves and when he grew up there was problems and he'd had to go live with humans for the first time ever. Being part of two worlds and not fully accepted in either. Yeah, Kipling had it right.

Muse: Oz
Fandom: BtvS/AtS
Word count: 355

EM March - Home

Tue, 13 Mar 2007 02:31:53 GMT

I've never really been tied to any one place. There is a certain amount of feeling for the place I grew up, and maybe if Sunnydale hadn't fallen into a great big hole in the ground I could point there to my parent's house and say that was home.

Not like I get that whole thing others do about a place. People were kind of always more of a draw for me than actual buildings. Home is where the heart is, at least that's what people keep saying. So maybe home isn't supposed to be a place but a feeling. Although I guess it's hard to make walls and a roof out of a feeling, might look pretty silly trying that in a snowstorm or something.

There's periods of my life I can look at and say I felt pretty homey there. Of course they were never where I lived so I might have to stick with the whole home is a feeling thing. Maybe it's being around people who are ok with who and what you are. Maybe it's a never ending supply of jolt cola and donuts while surrounded by old books that kind of have that weird musty smell.

Maybe it's learning to live with having me and the wolf in the same skin.

EM February

Wed, 14 Feb 2007 16:48:41 GMT

It's nearly Valentine's Day. Write a letter to your siginificant other or object of obsession, past, present or future.

Dear Willow,

Pretty much a given if I talk about an obsession for now, for then or for yesterday it's you. I always felt like a needle pointing to you as my north, even now I can close my eyes and gravitate to you.

I can't even say it was growing up in Sunnydale, or the whole monthly fuzzies thing that broke us. I can't even blame Veruca. It was all me.

I wish I could do it again and find a different way. But we always did hurt each other the best maybe that was just part of being connected like we are. We always knew what would hurt the worst and pretended we didn't mean it.

You will always be a part of me Will. Like the music in my hands and the way I know the line to every Star Wars movie (the originals not the crappy remakes) and I wish I hadn't wasted it.

Love
Oz

Eclectic Muses January - picture prompt

Thu, 11 Jan 2007 16:58:53 GMT

It's the tallest mountain in Germany. Lots of people hike here, you can take the cable car up some of the way and follow the signs to various hiking trails. If he had known there was going to be so many mountains in his life after leaving Sunnydale he would have brought different shoes with him.

At least this one isn't full of monks.

There was probably some sort of zen metaphor he could draw from all of this. Climbing and descending mountains in the search for truths when Sunnydale was a flat pancake full of cemetaries. Maybe Sunnydale was stagnation with it's unending scenery and nowhere to climb, and the mountains were challenge and intellectual growth.

Or maybe they were just tall and got snow in your shoes.

The signpost had stuck in his head ever since he'd seen it. Old wooden boards all pointing everywhere with a bunch of names he didn't recognize it was pretty much a guess in the dark if he was going the right way even with something to show his progress. There went that spiritual symbology again, he'd really have to stop doing that. If he turned everything into some sort of thinking puzzle he was never going to get anywhere.

Oz sighed to himself, he should never have read about the 5 patterns of thinking now he was unable to even just think without stopping to analyze which way he was thinking about it. Right now he was stuck in the pattern where the lines formed a circle, internalizing and coming to terms with something. It wasn't a bad pattern necessarily but it didn't lead to moving on. Going around and around in your head led hopefully to digesting something and being able to move on, but he wasn't really seeing the progress here.

Instead he was going from mountain to mountain looking for a way out of the thoughts in his own head.

Albert Einstein said the definition of insanity was to do things again and again and expect a different result, Oz cut off the thought that cropped up at that with Schroedinger's cat and infinite possibilities that exist until the action is taken, so maybe it was time to stop the insanity and do something different.

Maybe it was time to head home.

EM December

Sun, 31 Dec 2006 06:52:56 GMT

Do not betray me to your mirth or hate. Love me, or kill me, brother -- John Ford

The rain was dripping steadily from the overhang of cement above his head as he waited. Patience wasn't something new to Oz but it had taken a while to learn the patience of the hunt. Being able to wait till Christmas without being tempted to open your presents or holding off on buying a choice cd until it was in the second hand store to save money wasn't the same as sitting quietly in one spot until someone came by so you could kill them.

Patrolling with Buffy had been more of a social gathering. Learning to control the wolf with the monks in Tibet was an exercise in putting those tangled threads of thoughts into simpler terms.

Hunting other werewolves? That was different.

Hunting them took patience while you stalked them in their everyday life until you found them. Following through grocery stores and schools as they went about the motions of their human shells until they betrayed the beast within. Then you had to move fast because they were just as savage as you were and usually they were better fighters.

Oz was past the point where killing them in their human state was a problem as long as he knew that they were like Veruca and the others he'd met. Indiscriminate killers in their wolf forms taking pleasure in the hunt and kill were not something he wanted to fuck up killing.

The problem with the waiting was you had too much time to think while you did. And watching the drips of water fall just a few inches from the toes of his shoes there was red hair and the memory of a scent that tightened his heart. Sometimes no matter how much you loved someone you were destined to lose it. It didn't seem fair, but after taking turns of breaking each other's hearts over and over Oz'd had to let Willow go. She was never so far away he couldn't fall into memories of laughter and the shiver of her white skin under his touch.

The memories made him move just a little too slow when the quarry he'd been tracking almost a month found him. Oz rolled to the side and scooped up the crossbow but there was a line of fire across his chest when he turned to face his enemy.

This time the wolf was a policeman, and somehow the fact that criminals dissappeared mysteriously every full moon made his brothers in blue look the other way. The man was cocky, he figured as long as he did his civic duty the other murders would be overlooked.

The four year old he'd left half eaten in the park wasn't a criminal.

The hunt had taken longer than it was supposed to, the moon was coming up behind the stormclouds and the silver fire was calling in Oz's veins asking him to come running under the moon. The charms and the herbs he took let him resist it, but when the policeman doubled over in pain as his bones shifted under his skin Oz put the bolt with the silver tip through his eyesocket. The knife the cop had used on him was plain steel so he'd heal.

The smell of blood almost tipped him over the edge into the wolf. The things he did to keep from changing also made it harder to control himself when he was angry or there was a fresh kill. Oz stumbled away away from the corpse gagging at the thought of wanting to eat his prey until he was back to the van.

He had to get out of town and fast. His blood was all over the scene and Oz didn't really want to be in a position to get arrested for murder. The body wouldn't be found till morning at least so he had time to clean up in the hotel shower and trash his clothes before he left.

The slash on his chest was an angry red scar by the time he was out of the shower. Oz wiped the steam off the mirror and stared into his own eyes. He didn't recognize himself somedays and he wasn't sure he was okay with that. The mirror was cool under his fingers and it made a low squeal as his fingers scraped across clenching into a fist. He was too close to losing control, the monks had told him that.

"You can cage the wolf, but the only true way to control it is to make peace with it. Until you can accept that you are the wolf, that it is not some alien thing inside of you, then you will always be fighting yourself." The master monk was kneeling on the floor pouring tea.

So, I'm always going to be the ticking time-bomb of potential hairy killing machine?

Oz hadn't been happy with that thought, and the master had given him one of those looks he always gave when he descended into glib speech to cover true feelings.

"You can learn nothing more here. You will only be at peace one of two ways Daniel, you must either love, or kill, the wolf."

Either love or kill the thing he'd become. Oz had seen the ones who loved their wolf, they killed without remorse or pity and enjoyed it. But the only way to kill the wolf was to kill the man and he wasn't ready for that either. There had been more than once after a hunt that he'd held the silver to his chest and tried to decide if he was going to use it on himself, in the end he always knew killing himself was something he'd never do.

Could he love the killer inside without becoming a monster?

Maybe he should find out.

Imagine there's no heaven, it's easy if you try.

Wed, 23 Feb 2005 22:51:17 GMT

Sometimes I don't think there's enough therapy in the world for the kind of things we go through. I kind of wonder if the fact that all the slayers and the champions tend to die young doesn't have to do with the constantly being worn down with crisis after crisis till they want to be defeated and not have to face things anymore.

Even as just a sidekick of sorts to the champions I feel so tired and stretched thin sometimes. Rhia would say it was because I'm too ready to adopt every cub that wanders by. Maybe so. Not like I was ever looking to be part of this big of a family.

And now Matt is in the hospital. He's in a coma and things aren't looking good. Dylan got a call from Tori to come to the hospital and he called the rest of us. Tori told us that she'd found Matt unconcious over at Vince's place after casting some sort of dark spell. Reactions to that news have been sort of on the mixed side. Evil lady doesn't think that Vince would teach him dark magic and neither did Tori, but the fact that he was teaching him magic in the first place without telling us isn't going over well.

Dylan's been all about watching Meghan and helping out with things so Matt's parents can be at the hospital with him. I think Rhia's planning on kicking in with the money because we know insurance won't cover it all.

Dylan is also in that 'I'm going to explode soon' mode that is kind of tip toe inducing in us all. I'm kind of thinking we may have a talk soon, let him vent some because I don't care if he blows up at me. Not sure if that would make him feel better or not but it might help.

What's the good of righting the balance with the powers if stuff like this is going to happen?

Sat, 12 Feb 2005 01:15:09 GMT

Ok, well whatever has been going on with Rhia and the overtime vibing all over the place has stopped. I'm kind of glad, what with Pan starting in on his own massive vibing I was getting kind of tired. Things are whacky all over the city what with the vibes and all.

Sounds like they're ready to take Pan out this weekend. I'm hoping it goes down quick, things need to even out some. And Doyle gave us information on what's up with the powers. Badness like we thought. Connor's going to play champion, the spellcasters are going to protect him and we're going to protect them. Other than the fact that the powers can totally warp reality it sounds like a solid plan. The fact that at least one of the powers seems to be on our side may help out, at least maybe they can limit how much of the universe gets affected by the fight.

It's kind of depressing that taking on the god of Lust and the Powers that be is just getting to be a day in the life you know? I feel the need to get away for a few days before apocalypse season if we can. On the strange plus side, the whole singing and trying to burst into flames seems to have helped out a little with feeling better. Nothing like forced therapy.

Thu, 03 Feb 2005 22:21:13 GMT

Back in LA after helping out in Sunnydale briefly. Got to love the whole pictureless vision of confusion. Being able to help keep people from bursting into flames is all for the good, unless we bring a bunch of people who are going to do it too. It was kind of a given who was going to do it, so the random drawing of names for patrol actually worked out pretty well.

It was nice to be back and be getting the band back on track, but while we were practicing I felt Rhia get intensly angry, but not in a come save me kind of way, she was just pissed. It passed so I wasn't worried.

She came home with blood on her hands and she doesn't know why. She shot her gun but doesn't remember it. Which honestly is freaking me out. She doesn't remember being angry at anyone and she isn't too worried.

She's been kind of vibing a lot more today. I asked her to cool it down before the cubs devirginized the ice machine, because you know that's our perogative, and she just told me I made her hot and bothered and went back to what she was doing.

Color me confused, hope she chills it down some before the crowds get here.

Thu, 27 Jan 2005 21:55:44 GMT

Rhia's furious with the other succubi and incubi. They decided to get together and make the Lair their private playground the other night since it had been voted that we wouldn't play Sabine's music anymore.

That was pretty stupid of them. Yeah Rhia's been leaving them be but if you come in and make war on her turf and affect our cubs she's going to take action.

Kind of makes me wish I hadn't voted to keep the music. Have to say I still have the same point of view that if you don't like the message don't listen to the music.

I think we need to look a little more into what Pan is doing around here besides spreading love. And hopefully Doyle gets back to Dylan pretty soon about the whole vision thing because poor Des is being overwhelmed.

Something's just off about the whole thing. Looks like life is getting back to usual, time to go figure something out and get Connor to pick a fight with it.

Thu, 20 Jan 2005 00:24:58 GMT

So I'm immortal. There's moments where I think it doesn't feel any different than when I wasn't, that it'll take years to catch up with me. You know like the time when my parents are dead and I still look like I'm young enough to card for cigarettes. In retrospect maybe I should have waited until I actually looked a little older to do this. Not that I smoke, but you know what I mean.

Then there's the rest of the time, when I can feel all through me that I'm different. It's not a bad different really. I always had this place inside me that was calm and still, it's where I play music from. The wolf added something hot and uncontrollable to that for a while but pretty much it's still just me.

Now the wolf can feel the endless afternoon ahead of us and he's calm.

Someday the cubs will be gone, everyone I know will probably be gone and the Evil Lady and I will still be here. It's on the mind boggling side.

Mal came and made me immortal. We did it at the beach because we needed a pretty good sized fire. He burned my mortality away, and it wasn't my favorite thing let me tell you. Burning away a good portion of yourself kind of hurts. But I stepped out of the fire looking pretty much like I always did.

Definitely on the weird feeling here. Guess I have a long time to get used to it.

Sun, 09 Jan 2005 23:44:12 GMT

Ok, I'm glad we decided to have a hiatus on shows for the band for the next couple of weeks. After all these back to back parties and prep work for the parties I don't know about Rhia but I'm done in. We're playing tonight and then we don't play again till the end of the month. Hopefully that will be time to get recovered from the holidays.

Ok, not that I did all that much to help get the Lair ready for the party except whatever Preach told me he needed. Best hiring decision ever to make him the manager.

Things should be a little slower and maybe I can spend some time with the Evil Lady without having to worry about rushing off to the next thing. I know Mal is talking about doing the immortality thing after new years which was the original reason for taking time off. I haven't asked much about it because I really didn't want to know. The less I think and worry about it the better. Just tell me when to show up.

Things should be hopping tonight at the Lair. Ought to be fun.