One Man In A Dark World [entries|friends|calendar] Matt [ userinfo | greatestjournal userinfo ] [ calendar | greatestjournal calendar ]

Goodbyes [22 Oct 2006|06:17pm] [ mood | calm ] ( Letter left at Julie's place of work ) Keeping A Watchful Eye Over You

Progressing [19 Oct 2006|05:38pm] [ mood | calm ] ------ Non Journal Entry ------ “Don’t make me shoot you,” Matthew muttered to his friend pacing the alley like a trapped animal, “I don’t want to shoot you so don’t make me.” Not that either demon or friend were listening as Matthew’s back soon collided with a nearby wall – all air forced from his lungs and grip temporarily loosened on the gun grasped in his right hand. Not that he relinquished either grip or gun, never, not in a hundred years. “Fine,” Matthew remarked as he drove a knee into Brian’s groin and as his friend doubled over, Matthew brought the butt of the gun across the back of his head. It wasn’t enough to knock him out but enough to calm him enough so that Matthew could sink one tranquiliser dart into Brian’s neck which was guaranteed to put him under for several hours. Matthew backed off but only to pull his phone from his pocket, an unfamiliar number was dialled and spoken to like an old friend. “I’ve got him; I’m bringing him to you.” In the next second the call was ended and Matthew was hauling his friend’s dead weight to the waiting car. He had somewhere to be with a few pit stops along the way; the truth of the matter was that Matthew just wasn’t that willing to give up on any and all chance of getting his friend back. Keeping A Watchful Eye Over You

Bloody Hell [19 Sep 2006|12:30am] [ mood | awake ] ------ Non Journal Entry ------ Matthew had listened to the different voicemails on his phone, not once but twice and he was rubbing a hand over his face because he had heard both Grace and Rhiannon’s voicemails and he muttered, “Bloody hell.” He inhaled a breath and tossed away the still burning cigarette and exhaled a stream of smoke towards the blanket of black above him. He sniffed, raked his fingers through his hair and then dialled Rhiannon back first. “Rhiannon, it’s Matthew. Just got your message and well, safe to say I think this is something better talked about face to face. I need to talk to you about something else as it is, this will be another topic on the table.” He then cancelled the call and dialled Grace, “Hey Grace, Matt here. My guest did tell me that you two of you had met. Eventful, I’m sure.” Matthew paused, lit up another cigarette and continued, “I’ll drop by at some point, I’m kinda caught up in something but I’ll be seeing you.” Matthew hung up his phone then swung his head around to regard the religious text in front of him, all of it scribed in Latin. It was going to be a very long night. Keeping A Watchful Eye Over You

Closer [02 Sep 2006|10:13pm] [ mood | working ] ------ Non Journal Entry ------ The phone is ringing, Matthew can hear the beat of his heart in his head and he's got a finger curled around another. Maybe he's praying and maybe he's hoping that it'll be alright and all the things his father told him aren't true. He knows deep down inside that he's lying to himself but it's okay, sometimes it doesn't hurt. Then a familiar voice picks up but something's not right, "Brian here." "Bri, it's Matthew." He goes for casual, he hopes he's getting it right but it's hard to tell. He's just that emotionally invested in this. This is Brian, his friend from since forever and yet he has to finish what has already started. There's a pause, almost as if the demon inside of his friend is calculating his next move. Finally it speaks, "Matt, well hey." If he hadn't known what he knows then Matthew might have fallen for it but as it is he knows everything. "How's things?" Yeah, keep it casual and pretend like you're not clamouring for location. "Not bad," Brian returns. So that's how it's going to be, short and precise, well fine then. "Good to hear. So ...what's happening in your life?" Give him the rope and hopefully he'll hang himself. Another long considerable pause and then a slow, "I'm actually in Vegas. Taking some time out you know?" Matthew nods his head, glancing over his shoulder as the luminous glow of a nearby sign lights up the small dark corner he resides within. "Yeah I know how that goes, never hurts to unwind." He pauses now, gives the silence a few meaningful seconds before speaking up. "Considering you're in town, you want to meet up? Maybe reminisce about old times?" The Watcher narrows his blue eyes as he strains to hear for background sound because he knows the demon won't allow Brian to meet him, it'll be too close and demons always look after themselves. "Sorry Matt, I'm kinda busy. Maybe another time?" Brian offers rather lamely, the panic is setting in. Matthew hears applause, a rattle of machines and an announcer saying something about Caesar's Palace and Matthew just sort of smiles. "Oh yeah sure whatever, I'll see you next time." With that he hangs up, ends the call and turns to the notepad he's got in his hand and he circles the location out of many he's already scratched off. Keeping A Watchful Eye Over You

Plans In Motion [20 Aug 2006|11:49pm] [ mood | working ] ------ Non Journal Entry ------ “Is that everything?” Matthew glanced up, regarded the man in front of him before turning his attention back to the spread of weaponry in front of him. It was enough for a small army but if what his father said was right he was going to need everything he could get his hands on. “Yeah, that’s everything.” He shared as he tested the weight of a knife before settling it back against the counter. All that was left to do to find was a book of Latin that had the precise language needed for exorcising the demon from his friend’s body. The first option was to exorcise and the second would be to kill if he was unable to free him of the control. His friend wouldn’t have wanted it any other way and there was always the chance that Brian wouldn’t be able to forgive himself for Davina but that was a whole other can of worms. One Matthew wasn’t going to be opening for a while yet. The Watcher handed over a wad of bills before he loaded the bag and hauled it from the counter, his boots took him to the door and his shoulder shoved it open until he met with the brisk wind of the Nevada night. The duffel was slung over the back of his bike and secured before his phone was pulled and opened, a number was dialled and her voicemail kicked in so he spoke. “Hey Rhiannon, it’s Matthew. Not sure if this is a good time but I just wanted to call and say I’d like to see you. Call me whenever you get this message.” The phone was closed, the stand holding his bike kicked away and the bike itself straddled before the engine revved and Matthew accelerated away, taking the dark roads and alleyways like he’d been following their trail all his life. Keeping A Watchful Eye Over You

Bearer Of Bad News [30 Jul 2006|01:21pm] [ mood | worried ] ------ Non Journal Entry ------ "Sometimes...sometimes I look in your eyes and I see what could be forever," she said, then ruffled his hair lightly and stepped out of the impromptu embrace. "Good night, Matthew." The words that snapped Matthew wide awake from a restless slumber complete with mental imagery and confusing dreams that continuously turned in circles until nothing made sense and all Matthew could do was breathe. Groaning faintly he turned over and buried his hands in his matted hair, sweat glistened on his naked back and fever spiked his every movement. He pulled his head back, rubbed at his face with his hands before catching sight of a blinking phone in the dark. Furrowing his brow he lifted himself to his feet, let the black cotton cling to his hips as he moved to pick up the phone. “Dad…” He muttered quietly, arching an eyebrow, wondering if this meant anything considering the conversations he’d had just recently. Matthew had a thoroughly mixed up and complicated relationship with his father, it was unhealthy and yet they were always connected even if neither of them wanted to be. Opening the phone he pressed the phone to his ear and listened to the voicemail left, “Matthew, call me, it’s about Davina.” Matthew’s eyes just widened and he quickly pulled the phone from his ear to dial his father’s number, screw international rates. “Dad, it’s me. What’s going on?” “Davina’s dead, Matthew.” His father answered quietly. “What? How?” Matthew demanded as he fired off the questions that everyone asked when an old friend was proclaimed dead. “What about Brian?” There was an audible silence on the other end of the line before his father spoke, “He’s the one that did it.” Matthew was confused, why would Brian hurt Davina? He began to pace his bedroom, “What happened?” “They were on a job and Brian turned his shotgun on her,” His father explained patiently almost as if he was talking to a three year old asking all the wrong questions. “No!” Matthew exclaimed sharply before shaking his head, “Brian would never…” His voice trailed off and his brow furrowed, that couldn’t be true, it just couldn’t. “When’s the funeral?” If he knew he might be able to get back, to pay his respects to an old friend. His father inhaled a breath, “You can’t come, Matthew.” “What? Why the hell not?” Matthew snapped out angrily as he turned a glare to his phone. It always happened like this, no matter what conversation he shared with his father it always disintegrated into an argument. “Because there is work to be done where you are,” There was weariness present in his father, the same tone that had haunted Matthew for most of his life. “Brian is coming to Vegas; it’s up to you to finish this.” Matthew paused upon hearing these words and just swallowed, “Why do I get the feeling you’re not telling me everything that there is to know?” “Brian’s possessed, Matthew.” His father stated calmly. God he hated how his father could say something like that and still sound like he was reading off a shopping list, news like that cut through Matthew and he was left swaying ever so slightly. “How?” He asked low and as calmly as he could manage. His father paused to take a breath before beginning, “Davina and Brian were in South America researching demons when they came across a tribe called the Yanomamo. A shaman within the tribe claimed to be able to hear spirits and naturally Brian couldn’t stop himself. He had to know more.” “And?” Matthew prompted as he listened intently. “He convinced the shaman to call to him the Hekura spirit to him but something went wrong, the spirit instead of possessing the shaman turned its attention to Brian. It consumed him and Brian lashed out and Davina was caught in the crossfire.” Matthew listened and felt his shoulders shaking, “The Hekura spirit? The very same that devours children’s souls and hungers for meat?” His father answered his question with a simple, “Yes.” Then he paused and ventured to ask, “Do you understand what needs to be done, Matthew?” “Yes I do,” Matthew answered as he hung up the phone and just stood there. A whole new worry was now plaguing his already fevered mind. 1 Slayer --- Keeping A Watchful Eye Over You

Midnight Caller [03 Jul 2006|08:28pm] [ mood | surprised ] Searchlight. Barely a bump in the road. But it was surprising what could hold someone's attention if they were in a mood to let it. Grace's boots made soft thumps on the stairs as she approached Matthew's door. It was late, past midnight, but she'd been restless and unable to hold still, even amid all the controlled chaos of Vegas. And it was too hot, even for June in Nevada. The vampire knocked, then slouched against the wall while she waited. Keeping an eye out for all-too familiar faces. Matthew had actually been asleep, for the first time in what felt like weeks, all those long shifts at work had obviously done the trick. The knock on his door stirred him and his head lifted, sleep fogged brain took some time to figure out that the sound had not been a part of his dream. "Coming," He yelled. The accent thick and heavy with sleep before the Watcher tossed back his covers and then got to his feet, he snagged a t-shirt and pulled it on over his arms until he yanked on a pair of jeans and he made for the door. One hand moved to rub at his eye and then lifted to smooth down his hair until fingers turned to slipping the locks free. Eventually the door opened and Matthew regarded Grace with sleepy blue depths. ( Did I Wake You? ) ( Dazed And Confused ) "Hmph." The sound bordered on a chuckle as Grace looked down at the Watcher, and she grasped his wrist. Bringing his hand up to her torso, she placed it over the place where her heart no longer functioned. As they both registered the silence within her chest, the vampire smiled very slightly. "There's no point in fear," she said. "It’s a waste of time. I don't know what this is either, not really, but...I just don't know." Head shake. She was going to have to get a silver weapon of some kind. The mutt, the bitch, was probably going to find out about this. She might have to fight her again. Good. "It’s a wicked, twisted world, Watcher man..." Keeping A Watchful Eye Over You

Dreams [03 Jun 2006|09:01pm] [ mood | nauseated ] ------ Non Journal Entry ------ Ever since his release from the hospital Matthew had found himself unable to sleep, well that’s not exactly true, he was able to sleep but he always woke up halfway through because of some nightmare. The last one had involved his father and the closet in his parent’s bedroom and that had inspired a heaving bout of nausea which had then resulted in Matthew’s current position, if looked at from a certain angle could almost be mistaken for prayer. He now shrunk away from the porcelain and hugged his waist with one arm as his weight sagged back against the wall. His skin had an unhealthy hue to it and sweat glistened on every inch that rose and fell with staggered breathing. Dark hair was slicked back with the movement of his fingers through the strands. The nightmares had gotten easier the more time he spent in Searchlight and the more distance between him and his father but they never went away, not really. The cuts on his shoulder and across his chest stung and he dealt with the pain in the same way as every other one he’d felt in his life, by taking a few deep breaths and closing his eyes. The tears burned at his eyelids and prickled at the lashes but they never slid free. Grunting Matthew pushed himself away from the ground and found his balance at his own speed. He avoided flicking on the lights because his eyes were accustomed to the dark and he didn’t feel like burning out his corneas. As he stumbled through the apartment his toe snagged on something and further observation made the connection, Rhiannon. The pictures she had given him all those weeks ago now lay scattered across the ground. With a slow movement Matthew crouched down to gather them up but he didn’t let go at first, he simply regarded them and furrowed his brow. Slipping them away carefully back into the envelope he took them through with him to his bedroom and sank into the chair in front of his desk. “Seems like a really long time ago,” He muttered as he turned over one picture and he settled it back on the table as sometimes just looking at it hurt. Matthew glanced towards his phone and reached out for it, the small device was open and a number that had once come to him like second nature was now sought for and dialled. When the beep indicated he should leave a message he couldn’t seem to and he hung up. He groaned at himself and then dialled right back, this time determined to leave a message even if it wasn’t long. “Rhiannon? It’s Matthew. Um I know I haven’t been in touch but I uh I found those pictures you gave me and uh I think if you wanted to, you could probably make a good living out of them.” Now he paused, unable to think of what else to say. “Anyways um I’ll hang up now and if you want me to send them back, just give me a call and I’ll do that. Hope you’re okay and take care of yourself.” Now he hung up and placed the phone down before he had the urge to hide it because that voicemail? Probably one of his worst. Oh well, you can’t win them all. Matthew tipped his head back and regarded his ceiling before rolling his head towards the rumpled mass of covers that passed for his bed. He wasn’t getting any sleep any time soon so maybe a bike ride was in order, if he took it slow he might not pull too many stitches. Pulling himself to his feet, he went about getting dressed before finally picking up his keys and leaving his apartment. The open road was calling his name. Keeping A Watchful Eye Over You

Not Such A Great Morning [08 May 2006|12:25am] [ mood | sore ] ------ Non Journal Entry ------ Matthew gave a faint protest at the thudding sensation pulsating through the back of his skull and he muffled a groan into the pillow that he buried his face into. Now he remembered why he didn’t tend to drink a lot, the morning after just wasn’t worth it. Hands worked through errant strands of dark hair as he tried to massage the pain away but guess what? It just wasn’t working. He was going to have to sit up and face the music sooner or later. Pushing his hands into the bed he lifted his weight and turned himself until his feet were touching a very unfamiliar carpet. “Oh dear God,” He mumbled as the world spun and he almost lost complete control of his stomach but he reigned it in and just focused on taking one deep breath in and letting another one out. Squinting Matthew lifted his head and tried to see through the haze and again he found himself in completely unfamiliar surroundings. A blue glowing object caught a very weak attention span and blindly his fingers groped through the darkness to wrap around his phone. He shoved his hair behind his ears as he blinked his eyes and attempted to focus an ever blurring gaze on the small screen. “One missed call and one new voicemail,” He muttered before he pressed the digits that would take him through to his mailbox. Devon’s voice, grave and quiet came down the line and Matthew’s expression faltered for a moment. “Jesus fucking Christ,” Yes Matthew was going to go Hell for using the lord’s name in vain. It was probably a good thing that Matthew wasn’t religious in the slightest. Hanging up the phone he pulled it away from his ear and just stared at it, Brad had Julie. Closing his eyes he inhaled a shaky breath and he forced himself to focus for long enough to return the message. “Hello Devon, it’s Matthew. I got your message; I’ll do whatever I can to help. We should meet; just tell me when and where, I’ll be there. Keep me informed.” The phone was now hung up and placed back on the table as Matthew bowed his head and wrapped the back of his neck with his fingers. “This feels vaguely familiar,” He muttered to himself. Getting to his feet he made for the direction of where he was pretty sure he had left his jacket. He needed a cigarette. Turning his head his eyes blinked at the sight of a feminine figure curled up on the other side of the bed. Then and only then did the events of last night come back to him and he closed his eyes and winced. Pouring out the more personal details of his life whilst on the way to being drunk not such a great idea. Cigarette was now forgotten. Matthew gathered himself and walked into the bathroom to start running the cold water tap. He slid both hands under the spray and then worked the water over his features and through his hair, it did wonders for his thinking processes but did nothing for his headache and the extraordinary bad case of cotton mouth that he had woken up with. Pausing in the doorway he leaned his head against the wood and watched Grace as she slept in the bed. There was a lot about this that he didn’t understand but he was in no mood to dissect it. He slid his shirt back over his shoulders and did the same with his jacket before pausing long enough to pull on socks and shoes. Glancing up he noted something and walked to the curtains. A thin slither of light was peeking though and he remedied this by sliding the curtain further along on the rail. Moving back around to the bed he paused beside Grace and he pushed a stray strand of her hair behind her ear before gathering the shades he had worn the other night. He clasped them loosely in one hand before he scrawled a message on a small pad: ‘Vampires, you’re not much for the daylight. I’ll see you soon and I borrowed your sunglasses. I think I need them more than you do. Hope you slept well and I’ll be seeing you. – Matt. Matthew now slipped the sunglasses back over his eyes and stepped out of the room, taking the hallway one slow step at a time. The fun part would be trying to find his bike with a hangover that looked set to engulf his skull. Oh the joys of having a hangover. Keeping A Watchful Eye Over You

Opportunity [07 May 2006|11:32pm] [ mood | lethargic ] If there was one thing more embarrassing than being stood up, it was sitting in a restaurant dressed in your best suit with the waiter giving you pitying looks every time he passed your table. This is how Matthew found himself this evening, a few calls had been made and found themselves re-directed to Julie’s voicemail and after two hours Matthew was calling it a night. Paying for what wine he had consumed Matthew vacated the restaurant and paused as he reached the Las Vegas sidewalk. To say he was confused would be an understatement but rather than jumping to the wrong conclusion he vowed to keep an open mind and to try not to envision the worst. A cigarette was lit and the tip flared as the Watcher dragged a breath of smoke into his lungs and he let it linger there. His fingers moved to loosen the dark tie he was wearing and his eyes glanced around himself. Auras glowed in the night giving every passer-by an ethereal appearance. Turning away from the restaurant he began down the sidewalk, strides slow and easy as he smoked his cigarette and walked in the direction of his bike. Muffled voices from a nearby alley turned his head and a slow lift of a dark eyebrow was the only sign that his curiosity was piqued. Stepping off the sidewalk he entered the shadows and simply looked ahead, cigarette still being smoked as if nothing had changed. The sounds were fast approaching and he could already tell by the colour that two of the people weren’t human and were attempting to snack on a struggling female. His hand strayed into his jacket and a stake was withdrawn and settled behind his back and the cigarette discarded. The bigger of the two vampires turned his head and settled a distorted face on Matthew and quickly moved toward the invasion. It wasn’t long until that expensive suit jacket was being slammed up against a brick wall that had seen better days. Vampire leering close enough for Matthew to feel its breath on his skin. He knew what would come next and used the moment of distraction to sink the stake into flesh and with hidden strength drove the wood deeper until creature exploded. The other now distracted by his friend’s sudden and untimely death turned attention away from the girl and fixed it firmly on Matthew. A split lip and a bruised throat were the injuries inflicted upon Matthew as the vampire and human struggled but death was ultimately bestowed upon the creature intent on taking someone else’s life. Matthew simply spat a mouthful of blood to the ground and watched as the woman regarded him through mascara fogged eyes. “Go home,” He said softly as he gestured behind himself, the woman needed little encouragement as she practically bolted away from the alleyway. Matthew glanced at the piles of dust that surrounded him and put the stake back into his pocket as he began out of the alley and back towards the sidewalk. His hand was already shaking out another cigarette out of its packet. As the clickety-clack of the woman's high-heeled shoes faded into the general noise of the night, the sound of applause erupted from the shadows, followed by the thump of heavy boots striking the concrete of the alley floor. "Well-played, Watcher man..." She'd been up on the fire escape, watching the other two vampires struggle with the woman and wondering if it was going to turn into a fight between the two of them. No interest in either interfering or assisting them. Just observing. Most vampires were too stupid to unlive, and she was hard pressed to care if they destroyed each other or not. Grace tracked through the ashes of one of the vamps on her way to catch up with Matthew, eyeing the pack of cigarettes in his hand. "Whatcha doin'?" she asked conversationally. "You're kinda dressed up to be kung-fu fighting. Got a smoke for me?" Without waiting for a reply, she swiped a cigarette out of the pack and put it in her mouth, then lit it with a heavy silver lighter she'd stolen at the last bar she'd been at. "You busy?" ( Pleasant Company ) ( Getting A Drink ) ( Maudlin Topics ) ( What's Your Type? ) 2 Slayers --- Keeping A Watchful Eye Over You

Curious Nature [08 Apr 2006|01:01pm] [ mood | blank ] ------ Non Journal Entry ------ Matthew’s been catching up on his reading. Studying the history of Searchlight in a bookstore located in the heart of Vegas. Sure he could have gone to the one in Searchlight but he’s taken to feeling more at home in Vegas these days so he tends to stray there more often than not. He tries not to think too hard on why that is and just focuses on gathering notes and researching as much as he can. Thoughts have strayed back to the mine and the portal he saw whilst with Hayden. Personal life had taken a front seat but now it was time for it to get in the back whilst professional life took a hold of the steering wheel. The Council is the last calling card he’ll ever use so he’s taken to using contacts he made during his time in Vegas, when he wasn’t entirely himself. It’s amazing what a man can find out from the likes that most never spoke of. Ashtray has gathered cigarette butt after cigarette butt until there’s no room for the one he’s trying to put out. A shrug accompanies the sudden realisation and he finally extricates himself from his place of residence for the last day or so. Hands grab the books and the notes made, it’s with a thoughtful look towards some notes on the mine that has him stepping out into the crowds of Vegas. It’s time to head back and time to poke around and maybe get back in touch with all those people he hasn’t talked to in a while. Keeping A Watchful Eye Over You

Progressing [11 Mar 2006|12:12am] [ mood | productive ] ------ Non Journal Entry ------ Dressed in a black tank top and a loose fitting pair of sweats Matthew appeared to be clearing house. Mottled set of bruises had come to a head as brilliant shades of black, blues, browns and yellows. Some were even green. Stitches were soon to be removed and it would seem in the busy motion he had forgotten the residual pain. Dark hair hung loosely around his face and was occasionally pushed back when fingers were freed of the bags that they were carrying. Matthew was removing old clothing, throwing out the things he no longer needed and stripping himself of an influence he should have long left behind. Sweat glistened on his form and soaked material until it clung to scarred tissue. A good sweat dictated that it was a job well done, a job with actual effort behind it and right now – it was important that he did this right. By the time he was finished there were four bags ready for collection. Each sack bulging with possessions no longer wanted or needed. A soft pained breath escaped the Watcher as he paused in the doorway and he tried to gather air into lungs apparently struggling. His hand wrapped the doorway and he held his weight there and when he finally felt fit enough to move again he did so. The doctor had said that he had to take things slow but Matthew didn’t really have a lifestyle that avoided him such relaxing interludes. With material possessions discarded, it was time to turn his attention to his living conditions. Eyes slid towards Corbett’s door and then glanced away to linger on the walls. Walls were penetrable but he wouldn’t live his life in fear of the Corruptress. Life was to be lived and Matthew, he was tired of living only half a life. Matthew eased the door shut after himself and thought about locking it but then shook his head as he moved into the kitchen. His room had been cleaned; it was now time to focus on the other parts of the house. The communally shared areas, it was always important to keep the energy flowing just right. Once he was finished in the kitchen, he’d move onto the living room and then the bathroom. When all of that was done, he’d shower and then get some food in. It was time his presence within the home was felt again Keeping A Watchful Eye Over You

Spinning Wheels [06 Mar 2006|12:18am] [ mood | crazy ] Matthew wasn’t entirely sure how many tequilas he had downed to try and burn the idea that he might have actually been in love with Faith from out of his mind. The realisation had hit him rather suddenly as he had partaken in a cigarette and the music had changed tone and note. Whatever had been wrong with him had now passed and with eyes completely open, he could see the surroundings for what they were. Dingy, unsanitary and completely unsavoury. He realised that he should have been uncomfortable and yet he wasn’t, even if the six foot five bald man with tattoos on every conceivable piece of his skin was leaning a little too close for Matthew’s personal comfort. “I’ll take my bill,” The Watcher spoke up over the volume of music and the thud of bass that seemed to echo in the depths of his ears. Bruises remained highlighted on his face and disappeared beneath the collar of his black shirt. Suddenly the fact he had those seemed unimportant, Matthew wasn’t out to impress anyone so concern over how he looked had been completely abandoned. He took one more drag of his cigarette and let the smoke curl around his features until dropping his head and exhaling the stream. Fuck, but it was good to be back in Vegas. Back in Vegas, back to normal. Grace swung into the dump of a bar for a few shots of tequila, as glad as glad could be that she'd shaken off...whatever had been wrong with her. The place was crowded and loud, but she didn't care. She wanted to drink, to celebrate, maybe get in a good bar fight, then go grab someone to eat. Good times. The vampire slid through the crowd of people near the bar, already digging for some cash. She was so busy with the contents of her pockets that she almost missed the familiar face. Almost. Matthew?! Seeing the Watcher here was almost as bizarre as running into Deanna in Searchlight, and Grace noted how out-of-place he looked. Then she saw the skinhead next to him looking like he wanted to propose or something. Saw it...and decided to have some fun. "Excuse me, hey, pardon me." She clapped Baldy on the shoulder with an overly enthusiastic hand, then slid between him and Matthew. "Not to interrupt, I can tell you're trying to get better acquainted, but you're botherin' my boyfriend, so do you mind fucking off?" ( Slumming It ) ( Health And Safety ) She waited, studying his face beneath the strobing lights. "Besides, if nothin' else, I was thinking we could wander off somewhere after this and...not fall in love." How would that grab him, she wondered. Would it touch that unnamed Something she could sense inside him? As with so much else, she'd just have to see. Grace patted the Watcher's butt lightly. "I'd go easy on you. Wouldn't wanna break you all at once." If by the same thing, she meant Elfleda’s influence then no, that same thing wasn’t bothering him but there was something else. Something that had been awoken and didn’t want to go back to sleep. “Such confidence,” Matthew remarked with a slow shake of his head as he toyed with the material of Grace’s top. He leaned close and smirked, “Maybe another night, I have to head home tonight. Try and make something of the mess I left behind.” Playing hard to get - not usually Matthew’s mode of operation but it seemed to fit right now. “Thank you for teaching an old dog a new trick,” Both hands trailed over the length of Grace’s back and then cupped her chin. “I haven’t danced in a very long time,” He covered her lips in a light barely there kiss before he pulled back and gave an enigmatic smile as his form vanished into the writhing crowd. Head games. How fun. Grace watched Matthew go, barely having gotten to kiss him back before he pulled away from her, and she let out a husky chuckle that was immediately lost amid the music and the lights. Ah, well. Better to let him recover from those bruises first anyway. "I'm gonna fuck up your world, baby," she murmured, heading back towards the bar to get another drink. "In the best way possible." Keeping A Watchful Eye Over You

Seeking [03 Mar 2006|02:00am] [ mood | determined ] ------ Non Journal Entry ------ Cigarette smoke curls before a face shrouded in shadow and lingers in the presence of a body that shouldn’t be perched where it is. If anything, he should be flat on his back and recovering but the need to find her, to seek out the one that he craved was overwhelming. Almost every bar on the Las Vegas strip had been graced by his presence. Stubble lines a strong jaw and bruises surround injuries that would have seen a weaker man in hospital. Stitches pulled and quick road to health hampered but well worth it. She has to be somewhere and he’ll find her. He won’t rest until he’s seen her and spoken with her. Matthew’s a man on a mission and maybe he’ll find her and maybe he won’t but even if he doesn’t, he can find something or someone else to keep him occupied until she’s all his. Love's a tricky emotion because it's so very deceiving. He knows the truth of Faith and yet none of it matters; all that matters is that she's the air he needs to breathe. One more bar down and checked off a list, time to move on. Keeping A Watchful Eye Over You

Head Over Heel [20 Feb 2006|03:23am] [ mood | uncomfortable ] ------ Non Journal Entry ------ It was wrong to be thinking about her. The one Slayer that Matthew knew he should not get involved with and yet for the oddest reason unbeknownst to him he could not get his mind off her. His life would need insuring if he even pursued the thoughts turning and spinning through his head that was for damned sure. Also? How was he to woe anyone when he looked like a mottled canvas? Maybe it was all that leather she supposedly wore? Or maybe it was her ‘fuck the world’ kind of attitude that just appealed right now? He was after all still a confused mess from Elfleda’s touch. He took to rubbing relentlessly at his eyes in the hope of obliterating Faith’s image from his mind. He hadn’t actually met her in the flesh and he suspected that his imagination didn’t do her any justice and not meeting her would probably be better for his health. Yes, the less he thought about Faith the better off he would be. Only his mind would soon betray him and he’d be right back to square one. Fucking hormones, this was all that it was. Hormones that suddenly sprung up from out of nowhere, he was trying not to think too hard or long on that. He might be a Watcher but there were some things he just didn’t want to think about. He was doomed, completely and utterly doomed. Keeping A Watchful Eye Over You

What's The Story Morning Glory? [14 Feb 2006|12:48am] [ mood | sore ] ------ Non Journal Entry ------ Waking back up to reality was an awful lot like having six hangovers. There was a constant and repetitive thud that started in the base of his skull and worked its way up towards his temples before a full blown explosion occurred. It was in this moment that his eyes snapped wide open and his pupils dilated until they were but black pinpricks on an otherwise blue sea. One arm lifted until the palm of Matthew’s hand could shadow him from the unrelenting and unforgiving rays of the sun. Upon closer observation, he saw a startling red that marred the entire width of his palm and had caused the skin to blister. It hurt to move and he stifled a wince as he tried and regretted it instantly. His other hand strayed out to press down against the hot sand and was quickly snatched away as one burned hand was more than enough for him. His eyes closed a few seconds later as his jaw clamped together; it felt like his entire stomach seemed to want to rush to the surface. Complexion had paled considerably and he was sweating, cold pinpricks seemed to climb over inches of skin and dropped his body temperature by several degrees. Matthew licked his lips and ignored the taste of blood that swamped the very tip and merely rolled over to press forearms down so he could at least find a solid place to start. Lips curled to bear teeth in an obviously pained expression as Matthew forced him away from the ground and onto unsteady feet. “Whoa...” He muttered softly as the desert dipped, spun and weaved until he was forced to press his hands to his eyes to keep from being disorientated completely. The stone laid scattered around Matthew and many pieces were far beyond salvage and the metal bat had practically disintegrated on impact, its death had not been in vain for it had been the main force behind the stone’s destruction. Watcher grimaced as he pulled his hands from his eyes and he was forced to narrow them before he could even see beyond the end of his own nose. A trembling set of fingers braced beneath his nose to catch the free flow of blood as Matthew stepped away from the middle of nowhere and back in the direction of his bike. The strides were slow and he seemed to take forever to actually reach the bike. A grunt was pushed out as Matthew’s legs gave and his weight hit the tarmac first before it was forced up. His back settled against the side of his bike and his head tipped as he pulled ragged breaths into his unyielding chest. “Fuck me,” He groaned softly as there wasn’t an inch of his body that didn’t seem to hurt. Gritting his teeth, he fumbled around in a pocket for his cell phone but a feeling of dread filled the depths of his stomach as the numbers blurred in front of him and he could no longer tell them apart. “Speed dial, Matthew.” He muttered quietly as his thumb ran across the touchpad and he pressed a number seared into memory and permanently branded there. “Hey Rhiannon, I think I need some help.” A pause followed as Matthew struggled to structure thoughts and relay that composure to his voice. “What I did, it took a little more out of me than I thought it would. Can’t see straight and I resent having this kind of headache without the fun drunk part.” A paranoid glance was given to the still desert around him because the last thing Matthew needed was for a demon to show up. He was trying not to think about Elfleda; hopefully the stone’s destruction would fly below radar that was busy with something else. “I’m about forty minutes drive from Vegas...” He glanced to his right and noted the rather prominent cacti formation, “Big ass cacti formation not too far from me, can’t miss it. One is shaped sort of like a trident.” He leaned forward to peer closer at the cactus nearest to him, “Another seems to be flowering.” Having realised he was rambling he stopped himself and took a breath. “A couple painkillers wouldn’t go astray.” Awareness was slipping and Matthew could feel himself falling so he ended the call with, “Okay ...think I’m going to catch my breath and maybe enjoy the …desert air.” Before he had a chance to fold the phone shut, it slipped from his grip and a few choice words from a slang that Matthew knew better than any other escaped the well mannered Watcher and soon found their way onto the end of the call. Eventually his finger was able to engage the ‘disconnect’ and silence filled the line and that same silence was translated to Matthew and his surroundings. One breath in, one breath out, as long as he was breathing – he was still alive and that was good enough for Matthew. Keeping A Watchful Eye Over You

At Last [08 Feb 2006|01:05am] [ mood | sore ] ------ Non Journal Entry ------ Liquid nitrogen, a gift from the Gods though if one wanted to discuss technicalities, more a gift of man. Stone had long since been exposed to said chemical and had formed a hard shell around the pitch black surface of the stone itself. Metallic bat tapped against a shoulder that had been worn down in the sense of having an extreme pressure pushing down on it. "This ends tonight," He muttered beneath his breath as his boot rolled the stone and he brought the bat down to rest against the stone. He clenched his jaw and ignored the whispers shifting through his head and then wrapped both hands around the bat so he could get a better swing at the stone itself. A short grunt followed the driving force of the bat as it descended towards the stone; it hit hard and had an instant effect. The stone shattered but as it did, a release of energy occurred and blue eyes widened well beyond their normal range. It wasn't long until the Watcher had been knocked off his feet and forced onto his back. Scars across his chest seared and throbbed and Matthew grunted as tears formed in his eyes. "Bugger.." was the word that escaped him before the back of his skull met with the sand beneath him and unconsciousness claimed him. The last thought to pass through Matthew's mind was that it was lucky he had left a message on Rhiannon's answering machine with his location. Halfway between Searchlight and Vegas, off the high road and the bike left propped up would be a clear indicator of where to look. He that thinks first, laughs last. Keeping A Watchful Eye Over You

Switch [30 Jan 2006|12:52am] [ mood | weird ] Matthew had only returned to Searchlight for a fresh pair of clothes and it put some considerable distance between him and that stone. The equipment key to its destruction also waited for him but he knew he had to be in a better place before he went to work. Having reached some sort of closure with Rhiannon Matthew felt more like a whole person rather than the fragmented mess he had become over the last couple of months. An attractive young woman had also asked him out which gave him faith that perhaps things were not as dreary as previously thought. However he found himself back in Vegas with his bike resting on its stand and his weight also resting against it. Eyes were staring at the door that held a one way ticket to the unknown. He should have been used to that by now given his choice of career and the path he had walked for a very large majority of his life. The unknown should have been familiar but this kind of unknown was different. That stone had come from her and she was an enigma that had yet to be figured out and sometimes Matthew found himself thinking that perhaps she just wasn't meant to be solved. His hands dropped to wrap his bike as his long denim covered legs crossed at the ankle and Matthew's gaze moved from the door to the window. The light from a nearby neon sign flashed across the clear surface providing a distorted image which Matthew thought seemed to fit Vegas quite well. He allowed himself an amused smile and then tipped his head back until the pale length of neck was exposed and his Adam's apple rose and fell with every swallow that he took. 'Suck it up Matthew, you're a man now. You should be better than this..' His father's words echoed within his skull and caused Matthew to drop his head before shaking it as he tried to clear away the thoughts he knew wouldn't help him. Grace was never more dangerous than when she was at loose ends. At what she considered her work, she was focused and not easy to distract, but without an actual plan of action in mind, the devil inside her demanded fun and games. She'd cruised the Strip for a couple of hours, just wandering aimlessly, occasionally finding a roof to do some covert surveillance from, but nothing placated the urge for something to happen. The need for...mischief. Eventually, it had occurred to her: the Watcher-man. Matthew. Gift from God. Grace snickered to herself as she remembered driving the inebriated Watcher back to his dump of a motel. She'd considered going through his jacket pockets after he passed out, but had left him unmolested. But now she was bored, and that was never a good thing. Boredom led to ennui, and that was something she worked hard to avoid. She saw the single light of the motorcycle as it approached, having already propped herself casually against a nearby soda machine. As he approached, she made a bet with herself about whether or not he'd even remember her name, or if the information had gotten flushed along with the booze. "Boo..." ( Never Forget A Face ) Before she departed, Grace leaned towards Matthew and kissed him on the mouth. Nothing more than a peck, but mouth-to-mouth contact just the same. "G'night, Watcher-man," she said with a smirk, then walked away to disappear around the corner. "Sweet dreams." Matthew watched Grace's face and was taken aback by the look she directed towards him. It was different from all the others he had seen from her and it was always the unexpected that took a person's breath away and now was no different. "Fun, right.." He murmured with a lilt to his words that said all that needed to be said about his thoughts in regards to that. As she leaned in towards him -- Matthew didn't retreat and held himself firmly in place. Cool lips brushed over his and he inhaled a short breath as again that hadn't been expected and it wasn't like any other kiss he had been given but then again he had never been kissed by a vampire before. He watched her as she walked away and muttered, "You too," before turning to push open the door. His build disappeared inside and the door was closed and locked behind him. Keeping A Watchful Eye Over You

Strangers In The Night [11 Jan 2006|09:08am] [ mood | relaxed ] Vegas at last. Grace got out of the car and looked at the bright lights of the Strip before slamming the door shut behind her. She was probably going to have to lose the vehicle, which was a drag, but the cops might have found the former owner's corpse by now. And she could always get another, anyway. Music. Music and dancing. Maybe a bite to eat. But definitely the first two things on the list. The heavy soles of her boots thumped onto the sidewalk as she left the car behind, eyeing the foot traffic with speculation towards who might be a good meal for the night. Or some other form of entertainment. She reached a club called the Underground, shoved the doors open to be blasted with music and lights. Wonderful. The vampire stepped inside, already attuning herself to the rhythm and the multitude of bodies that thrashed on the dance floor. A veritable buffet of delights. Grace smiled, and pitched herself into the heat of the metaphorical battle. Matthew had remained in the heart of Vegas and would continue to do so until the matter of the stone had been resolved. Less chance of anyone he actually cared about getting hurt. Staring at stone and then motel wall had lost its appeal about six hours ago and he had found himself walking the streets of Vegas. His clothes were shades of grey and black and hung off him accentuating the physique usually kept hidden beneath various layers of clothing. To try and take his mind off the various thoughts happening within his skull, Matthew had found his way into a club. Sometimes he felt old for his years, clubs hadn't much pull for a Watcher such as himself but given the changes in both his life and himself, a change of environment might be just what he needed. He drew the line at dancing in spite of the requests, he preferred a drink and to watch. Blue eyes watched the crowd of bodies as they crushed together, sweat from one person's skin transferring itself to another's and lips locked together in passionate embrace. He snorted lightly and lifted his bottle of beer in a mock salute to young love before swallowing back a mouthful to waste away that bitter taste in the back of his throat. ( Different From Most ) ( Smells Good ) ( A Challenge ) She laid a hand on the small of his back very briefly as they exited the club, noting the difference between their body temperatures. "Just tell me where we're going and I'll get you home." To bite or not to bite? That was always the question. But she was more curious than hungry, so she'd hold off and get something later. "I'm not gonna have to explain your condition to an angry wife, am I?" she snarked, pointing out where she'd parked her vehicle. Matthew released a low throaty laugh and shook his head, "Definitely no angry wife." He looked across at her, "Not where you're taking me." Seedy motel, definitely not the kind of accommodation you'd put a wife up in, definitely not. He fell into step beside her and tried to keep his path straight but there was an occasional sway. Matthew was definitely going to have a headache in the morning but at least he hadn't done anything he might have regretted. At least not yet. Matthew shook his head and just kept focused on where Grace happened to be leading. Keeping A Watchful Eye Over You

Around And Around We Go [07 Jan 2006|01:31am] [ mood | apathetic ] Phone calls had been made, people had been met and tools left behind in the seedy motel room in which he lived at the moment. Watcher had yet to venture home; he was keeping his distance to keep his troubling influence from disturbing others, the ones that didn't need to know - not if he managed to fix things. He'd taken to lingering in bars and partaking in the darker aspects of life and the kind of people he'd never have anything to do with usually now knew his face but they didn't know his name. He had taken great care to keep his name from ever surfacing, Matthew might be different but he wasn't a fool. The one called Quinn had called him, seemed she was 'back in town' and wanted a protective amulet. Keep the corrupting influence of Elfleda away from her, something Matthew might have considered if he had been in his right mind. The stone was awaiting the next step, that final ..finishing step, the one that had yet to be taken. It would but when Matthew had managed to grip onto a shred of consciousness that didn't belong to the voices. Within a pocket lay a silver and turquoise amulet known for its talent to defeat and confuse the enemy. More than that, it repelled unwanted influences otherwise known as Elfleda. Silver chain and small clasp would hold the necklace to a person's neck and the charm would lie above the heart chakra to energize it and give the wearer the strength that lay within their heart. He'd arranged to meet Quinn at a small diner a couple blocks away from his motel, it was respectable - the sort of place that he might have gone to before. Matthew had sat in the booth for the last hour and had only ordered one black coffee; fingers drummed a light erratic pattern against the warm porcelain. The diner was small, quiet and best of all, it held a group of people who didn't care for much that went beyond their own reality. Loving couples wrapped up in one another, old groups of friends talking excitedly about their latest adventure and tired overworked doctors and nurses squeezing in a short lunch in-between long never-ending shifts. True to his profession, Matthew watched them all; he watched them all through a haze of smoke. She was running late, but only because she'd had trouble finding the place. Parking the truck on the cracked asphalt of the parking lot, Quinn swung the door open and hit the pavement with a thump of run-down boots. She hoped they at least served decent coffee. She'd considered not following through with this. She'd become a bit superstitious recently, as if even thinking about the creature who'd accosted her would cause her - it - to appear again. The redhead didn't want anything to do with Elfleda, and she didn't want whatever it was she'd been offering. She only wanted distance from her. Stepping inside, she spotted Matthew in a booth in the corner and made her way over, settling her weight into the seat opposite him. "Hey. Thanks for meeting with me. Hope I didn't keep you waiting long." The tired-looking waitress came over, and she ordered a coffee. Food could wait. She wasn't really hungry and this wasn't precisely a social call. "You look tired," she told the Watcher. "Did you catch the flu bug that's going around?" ( Thanks, I Think? ) She dug out some money in preparation for paying her tab, looked out at the foot traffic on the sidewalk. "Are you still staying in Searchlight? I might see you around at some point." Matthew laid out a generous tip before he bowed his head to part lips to hold the filter end of a cigarette. An attempt at getting his lighter to work failed so he tried again only to be rewarded by a crack and a fizzle. He grumbled something and tried once more until finally flame hovered a mere inch away from his face before it was directed towards the tip of the cigarette. "I am, been spending a lot of time in Vegas. Things to take care of." He explained as he rested his lighter out on the table and he took a drag from the cigarette. "I hope the amulet does what you want it to do." "Yeah. Yeah, me too." There didn't seem to be much else to say, and eventually her coffee cup was empty. She put the cash on the table, adding a fair tip before getting up from her seat. "Hope you get your business taken care of," she said, giving the Watcher a little smile before she left. "And Happy New Year." Keeping A Watchful Eye Over You

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