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Spike
User: soulvamp
Name: Spike
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    William the Bloody
    soulvamp
    Guess the court case turned out all right and whatnot. At this hotel that peaches used to run his old offices out of, apparently. God, what a bloody awful week this's been. Not sure where my place is anymore, y'know, now that 'twould appear the proverbial nasty hordes of evil are slightly at bay. Ought to check on my flat, see if it's still in one piece. Ought to... oh, bugger if I know what I ought to do anymore. S'pose it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world to stick 'round LA, 'least for a while.

    Seems that Cordelia's popped back up to let folks know that poor Watcher lad made it into the white 'n' shiny place. Good on him. Makes the loss a bit easier to bear, that does. Would've been a right pisser to learn he'd gone to hell, that's for bleedin' sure.

    Guess I'm just here, waiting to see what's to be done. Always was up for a fight, I am, so I'd wager if there's still battles ahead... I'll be in the thick of it.
    OOC Notice: A love for real, not fade away.Collapse )

    Current Mood: melancholy melancholy
    Current Music: "Foolish Thing Desire," Daniel Ash

    soulvamp
    Events as of late make piss-all sense to me. Got sucked out of the battle right in the middle of it, we all did, and now there's some sort of sodding court case goin' on. Morrigan's doin' her damndest to explain it, but I'm just confused as hell. White room? Void contract? Piffle. I just want to suss out my place in all this and quickly. I'm tired. Been an unpleasant week, it has.

    Current Mood: confused confused

    soulvamp
    Once more unto the breach.








    Bloody shame... s'pose you always lose a man in battle, but still...

    Current Mood: crushed crushed
    Current Music: horses charging

    soulvamp
    I'm in.
    soulvamp
    1. Bloody Immortal bastard.

    2. Angel.

    3. Andrew.

    4. The loss of my coat.

    5. Goin' on a mission to retrieve a sodding head.

    6. The lack of horsepower on a Vespa.

    7. Italian nightclubs. Hell, sod all of Italy.

    8. Moving on. Bugger, moving on's all I got left to me. Not stupid, that.

    Here I am. Moving on.








    ...






    Well, I will any minute now, swear it.

    Current Mood: annoyed annoyed

    soulvamp
    Pondering things I probably bloody well shouldn't, considering that I've told Angel more than once over the past few weeks how dedicated I am to the battle ahead. There's other things... unresolved things... Well, it's rather boils down to a desire to be assured that she's all right, y'know?

    Sometimes, just when I think I'm free of 'er, she'll come to mind at the strangest moments...

    Current Mood: pensive pensive
    Current Music: "Out to Get You," James

    soulvamp
    Meant what I said to 'er... loved Fred beyond all measure. God, I hope the lad's plan worked, 'cause I don't feature her trying to off us all again.

    Everything just seems a bit off as of late, y'know? Bugger. S'pose this means I'm off training detail, which I'm bloody well fine with. Yeah, it sure as hell gave me a spot of purpose there for a bit, but I was hardly enjoying getting pummelled each time. In fact, I'm a trifle sick of being mere muscle at present, and actually had far more fun helping out in the lab. Folks seem surprised I can actually operate a computer, which makes me feel rather a bit indignant.

    So, yeah. Solutions for stopping the end of the world welcome as always, 'cause from what I've heard, peaches is acting a bit... off.

    Current Mood: worried worried
    Current Music: "Never Tear Us Apart," INXS

    soulvamp

    Current Mood: sore sore

    soulvamp
    Her PET?!

    No. Bugger that. Did I mention no? As in there's absolutely no sodding way that's happening?

    Although, a bloke's got to wonder what exactly she has in mind and whether it involves restraints of some sort...

    Current Mood: enraged enraged

    soulvamp
    Playstation's not here yet. You'd think whoever it is what sold me this thing's bloody well fallen off the face of the earth. Though, I s'pose I ought to be paying closer attention to more important matters, like this impending apocalyptic whatsit. To review the past week...

    - Bleedin' shame about old Charlie boy. More than a trifle conflicted about us leavin' him down there like that. Ought to go back for 'im, though it's not as though I fancy getting shot all to pieces again or what have you. That Stepford wife was a pretty piece, I must say, machine gun notwithstanding.

    - Slightly put out that the fourth floor receptionist found my new valise humourous. Remarked that it doesn't go with my general "look," and that I might do better to acquire a backpack instead. I told her to bugger off and consider not dousing herself in quite so much Love's Baby Soft. Stupid bint.

    - Haven't seen Percy or the grand bitch in a while. God help me, but I hope he's not developing an unnatural fascination with her just because she's wearin' dear science girl's skin around.

    - And may I just say how deeply scary this new chap is? Can we send him back to the Matrix or whatever ridiculous place he escaped from?

    - On a final note, if I hear Harm prattle on about sodding pink fountains any further, I'm driving nails into my ears.

    Current Mood: apathetic apathetic