(no subject)

[jla-villains.livejournal.com]

The Hyperion Hotel is very far removed from its heyday of the 1950's.   It's only months removed from the time period where Jasmine had led the world to a brief peace.  It has since sat abandoned.

Until now.

Eight Kriaphor sit around a drawn circle.  A young lady, no older than 12, lays, bound and unconscious, in the center of the circle.

The head speaker sprinkles a substance over the child.  An ashen-like substance that can only be the "missing ingredient" that the demons raided Wolfram and Hart for.

At least 12 other demons mill in the hallway, keeping on the lookout.

Floating above it all, parallel to the second floor, is Johnny Sorrow.

The ash now spread, the leader speaks.

SKERKDIHE  HEOERWOSN OWOEREOW  WOROEROED  KORRIGAR OWEOEROW  SLEOCHELS

No More Safety Net

[jade-nguyen.livejournal.com]

Cold. Shivering. Feverish.

The assassin known as Cheshire sits up on the floor of the cave, blood dripping down on her lap from a gash on her forehead. She shudders and takes in a deep breath, helping herself up, trying not to touch the gash with a poison-tipped claw.

She looks around, breathing heavily, worried. It's dark, and Chop Chop is gone. She's alone again, and slowly losing her grip on reality.

The safety net that is Hera is still there, but Cheshire doesn't realize that, or she doesn't remember it.

Blacking out does that to a woman.

She leans against the craggy, rough wall of the cave, trying to see in the dark.

She can't.

That worries her, and she Cheshire doesn't like feeling worried. It's not the way an assassin should feel. Ever.