𝑳𝒆𝒕'𝒔 𝑮𝒐 𝒕𝒐 𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒌.

@normallyxstranger ( nancy ) called: ❛ i hope you regret giving up on me. ❜

There were a lot of things he regretted doing. There were also things he regretted not doing. Nancy fell somewhere in between, like Drusilla had, but he keeps this to himself as he looks to her. She yet another person whose life he had ruined even if it hadn't been this version of himself. But he and Angelus were two faces of the same coin, something he had taken a while to accept and acknowledge.

"I do," he replied evenly, head bowing slightly as he looked towards the blonde. "I regret taking your life. Making you what you are today..." He turned her and left her to fend for herself. Being turned and taught nothing? It was probably one of the cruelest things their kind could do to someone they turned. The whole process was disorienting and left many questions milling around within ones mind. So to have none of those answered, to not be shown what to do, how to cope? He'd left her to die.

Nancy said nothing for a time, her arms still tightly crossed, one leg bouncing with nervous energy. She'd fixed her eyes to a point on the wall before she said her piece, and there they stayed. If she risked even looking at him, she would break.

And she absolutely refused to be weak in front of him.

Her eyes burned and Nancy blinked a few times. She clenched and unclenched her jaw. She stopped jostling her leg. It took longer than she liked to gather her courage, but she had it now.

Nancy flicked her eyes to his face, meeting his, and held his stare. Her hand gripped the chair arm, nails digging into wood.

Deep down he knew his apology meant nothing. That, however, did nothing to stop him from voicing it at the very least. It was several years late, but he was trying. He had ran from the things he had done prior to his soul and when he lost it a couple years back. In doing so, running, he wasn't atoning for all of the wrong he had done in his many years of walking in this dimension.

Drusilla, Penn, the others, it was too late. There was nothing he could do undo or even begin to fix things. But Nancy? There was still a chance, but only if she wanted to give him one. He could smell her hatred, could feel it as well, but he stood his ground and took every bit of it. Had to because he deserved it.

It was never surprising to continue to find out things about Wolfram and Hart. Especially when those things were creatures stored away until a rainy day. Though with the higher up's revealing this knowledge to him, it seemed their monster was no longer that. A man now or again, rather. One that had been found on a mountain near a cave with a half eaten corpse. Generally he wouldn't have cared to help the supposed monster responsible, but there was something different about this Mitchell Apcott that warranted help.

In hindsight, he could have approached the other man under better circumstances. So when back met the cold hard surface of the wall, Angel grunted as he peered down at the other. He could smell the fear, could see it in how his hands trembled and the unsureness. He remembered that feeling, the one you felt when you've been spit out of hell, returned to earth. Angel didn't fault him, no, he wanted to help him so he didn't fight back or make any attempts at freeing himself even if it would've been easy.

               The rigid animalistic tilt of head, teeth remaining bared to make sure his point wasn't forgotten. Who was this stranger? From what Mitchell knew about this world, this man didn't look like the type to help people like him. But then again, how exactly does one help a man who was a monster and is now a man again but wants to go back to being the winged monster who brought doom to everyone and everything stupid enough to cross his path?

While still intimately close, there was another growl and he moved a little closer in attempt to pick up some sort of scent, but this human nose gave him nothing and he let out a lower growl in frustration, him finally making the decision to let the other go.

"And how do you intend on helping me?" That question was asked when back was turned, Mitchel attempting to find traces of where the small stray animal he was hunting had gone. The next words that left lips were in a tongue that couldn't be interpreted by ears of the surface world. "Plan on hunting the cat that you lost me down?" He wasn't ready to give the other's words much weight in his mind, but the mention of his true form did pique interest.

There was nothing monstrous left within him. Nothing animalistic, aside from the mannerisms that were shown, was hinted at. Deep down, there was something sad about the whole ordeal. To know this man had gone from being, what he could only begin to imagine, a beast that every other so called beast feared to this? The vampire understood his frustration, albeit a touch envious of him being allowed to be human once more. Though he had had his chance at that already, hadn't he and he had gave it up because it was the right thing to do.

Ignoring his own personal drama, Angel remained relaxed under the others hold. One that he could easily break, but there was no reason to do so. Once upon a time, Mitch would and could have easily tore him to shreds, littered the ground with bits and pieces of his body. Not no more. So he allowed the man to have a semblance of control, hands remaining up to show he meant no threat. "Vampire," he said softly as he noted the way Mitch sniffed, no doubt trying to figure out what he was.

Lips twitch up into a smirk at the sound. It was one of the few sounds he did enjoy hearing from the other man. His eyes soon come to fall, locking with Roman's as he looks up at him. And oh how he felt like he was being looked at for salvation, as if he were a savior of some sort to him. He can see the wheels turning, trying to figure out if he meant it and would follow through. Which he would, easily, because he'd get the job done faster than Victor or any of the others could.

Pulled closer, brow arches as smirk grows. The hand still tangled in locks curl and tug again. Thoughts begin to wander with how close face is to...And he's standing, maybe later. "I would and will. Don't you worry that pretty little head of yours." Angelus hummed as hand fell from his hair, palm coming to press and rub at the others chest before fingers come to creep up along throat. "You just be standing by waiting for me..." he smirked.

· 𓂃 ࣪˖🔪 ˖ ࣪𓂂 . Roman knew what Angelus was capable of, it's why he needed someone like him for this. So he could be assured the job would be completed properly. Zsasz was usually reliable, but when it came to those with some actual pull out on these streets you could never be too sure. And Roman didn't really want to waste too many resources on this either. So this was the perfect solution.

And he grins when Angelus assures him he would take care of it for him. Eyes fall as hand moved over his chest and bottom lip is bitten back as it creeps up his neck. "Mm, I will." Purred back as his own hands move over the other's chest. "In something sexy." Spoken with a wink in promise. But it's not even in a form of payback, but because he wanted to.

Being a monster was his job title. Though it wasn't a job often practiced much these days; a winged crusader lurking about the shadows and all. He had also been more focused on Roman, bending and warping him in ways that would benefit the vampire in the long run. But this was the perfect opportunity to be himself and do what he did best as well as keeping the other under his thumb. And under his body when he came back.

Fingers caress against throat while he contemplates wrapping them around such a delicate neck. He refrains, allows his fingers to linger for another moment before hand shifts so that thumb and forefinger gripped his chin. "Good boy," he purred, a soft growl rumbling in his chest as he fought the urge ( he was always fighting one or more urges with Roman ) to shove him to his knees. But later, he reminded himself.

@normallyxstranger ( andy ) gets a semi plotted thing.

New Ashton had been on his radar for some time now. Wolfram and Hart had had files on the town and those that called it home, yet he hadn't used the information. Not until now. The law firm was nothing but rubble now and the champion needed to find a new path. One that didn't lead him back to old habits or lovers. So he headed in search of this town and hoped that just like the witches and demons that called it home, he could break him off a slice of that life. He also thought maybe they could use his help, if problems ever did arise.

Arriving shrouded in the dead of night, Angel looked for a hotel and was thankful the small town had one. Sleeping in the car wasn't ideal nor a sure promise of not waking up on fire. Once he booked a room, he unpacked and showered before heating up a mug of blood; he made a mental note to see about arranging something with the local hospital. Part of him wanted to rest, to take the night to simply sit and think things out more clearly. But he also wanted to get a lay of the town.

There wasn't much debating with himself as he pulled his coat on and made his way out of his room. It wasn't too late in the evening—in vampire terms, it was about eight in the morning, day was just starting for him—so there were still people out and about. Stores were still open which worked in his favor. He popped into a couple of them before he managed to find his way to an apothecary, a place that could be very useful to him in the future.

Walking inside, Angel stuffed his hands into the pockets of the old weathered coat. His eyes scanned the shelves and he could feel the magic radiating off every surface. Whoever owned the store wasn't pretending or putting on an air to scam tourists; they were legit. He walked around until he came to a stop near the crystals, eyes peering over them as he allowed mind to wander off in thoughts. Then he heard a voice and looked to the source of it.

No one really liked to work the closing shift at Embers & Ashes so, once again, Andy stepped up. She usually didn't mind, especially when she could close up early and grab a drink before heading home. The shop was usually slow past nightfall, anyway.

Except tonight. Someone had come in just when she'd made up her mind. Fine. She'd help him real fast and then--

Oh. Hello, gorgeous.

She read him quickly, just a second's glance with her second-sight to check out his aura, and found it... weird. Fragmented. Like the soul had been shifted or something. She didn't risk another look at it--absolutely none of her business--and instead flashed him a winning smile and asked if he needed help.

He didn't. Or he did? Andy's smile softened. "Sure. I'll be at the counter if you change your mind." Only, she didn't head to the counter. She didn't head anywhere. Her eyes stared out, unfocused, trance-like.

Night. An almost empty street. People running--no, not people. Demons. Someone yelling, then screaming. Blood on the sidewalk. Someone--she couldn't see their face--someone hurt. Urgent.

As she came out of it, Andy grabbed for the nearest surface, to steady herself. It just so happened to be the handsome man's arm.

He had felt eyes on him before she appeared. It wasn't uncommon for him to be stared at, but he also figured she was trying to size him up, see if he was going to buy anything. But the closer she got to him, he could feel the power coming off of her. Ah, that's the source, he thought as he returned the smile. She didn't look much older than twenty-five, but he knew better than to judge someone by their appearance. Or to doubt someone's power and how age didn't have to play a role in it; Willow had been young and easily became a strong wicca.

His thoughts came to a halt when he noticed the look in the woman's eyes. Doyle and Cordy used to get that very look. With past knowledge, Angel's hands shot out to grab hold of her arms to offer stable support. He knew visions could be painful, disorienting, and injuries were almost always expected since they had a nasty habit of appearing at random. "Easy now..." he whispered, keeping his grip gentle yet firm.

"Yea, I think that'd be good..." he murmured in agreement. Shifting so that arm came to wrap around her waist, he practically carried her towards a chair. He could have hidden what he was, showed some kind of struggle of lifting her from the ground—barely, her feet could still touch—but there was no point to it. Once he brought her to the chair, he stepped back as eyes looked over her before settling on her face.

Roman knew he was right. The scoff, deflective and dismissive, showed as much. As did in the way he slunk into a chair, how he bent over with head in his hands. Arms come to fold across chest as eyes—judging and amused as always—raked over Roman with a slow shake of his head. He ignores the question as he moves to come towards him, single hand falling from chest to come to affectionately run fingers through the others hair. Fingers tangle loosely before gripping and tugging just slightly, not hard enough to inflict pain even if the idea was tempting. Torturing the mortal was always so very, very tempting.

· 𓂃 ࣪˖🔪 ˖ ࣪𓂂 . Roman feels fingers through his hair and stills, the slight grip makes him groan a bit before lifting his head to look up Angelus's way. Brow furrows at the mention of a vacation, and maybe he was right. Maybe he did need to get out of this damn city for a bit, but he couldn't right now. He needed to be stable in his position before he could relax in any sort of way. And he couldn't do that with obstacles in his way.

Lips twitch up into a smirk at the sound. It was one of the few sounds he did enjoy hearing from the other man. His eyes soon come to fall, locking with Roman's as he looks up at him. And oh how he felt like he was being looked at for salvation, as if he were a savior of some sort to him. He can see the wheels turning, trying to figure out if he meant it and would follow through. Which he would, easily, because he'd get the job done faster than Victor or any of the others could.

Pulled closer, brow arches as smirk grows. The hand still tangled in locks curl and tug again. Thoughts begin to wander with how close face is to...And he's standing, maybe later. "I would and will. Don't you worry that pretty little head of yours." Angelus hummed as hand fell from his hair, palm coming to press and rub at the others chest before fingers come to creep up along throat. "You just be standing by waiting for me..." he smirked.

@blckfckinmsk continued from here.

The screaming had been unfortunate. Typically he would have enjoyed it, but normally he would have been the one inflicting something to make the other scream. This time, it had simply been the screeching sound of a little man throwing a tantrum. As much as it was irritating, it was amusing. To see how Roman threw his hands up and rambled nonsense about everything and nothing at the same time. And it was amusing in how easy it was to set him off, to further feed into his paranoia.

Eyes slowly blinked as he watched, tongue wetting his lips as he shook his head. How easily it would be to just rip his tongue from his mouth. Make him eat it even. Yet Angelus did no such thing; not yet at least. Maybe in time he would, but for now he would simply sit back and watch Roman drive himself into an early grave.

· 𓂃 ࣪˖🔪 ˖ ࣪𓂂 . There's a scoff at that warning, but he doesn't argue against it either. His minds too busy to really process it. And that clap that echoes off walls and rings in his ears doesn't help. It sends his sensors into overdrive and he has to sit down. Bent over forward with his hands over his head. "Didn't I tell you to fuck off?"

Roman knew he was right. The scoff, deflective and dismissive, showed as much. As did in the way he slunk into a chair, how he bent over with head in his hands. Arms come to fold across chest as eyes—judging and amused as always—raked over Roman with a slow shake of his head. He ignores the question as he moves to come towards him, single hand falling from chest to come to affectionately run fingers through the others hair. Fingers tangle loosely before gripping and tugging just slightly, not hard enough to inflict pain even if the idea was tempting. Torturing the mortal was always so very, very tempting.

Buffy S01E01 || Welcome to the Hellmouth

               A DETAILED STUDY IN: The horrors of a long and painful transformation, the anguish of losing yourself to something you cannot control and don't understand, the anticipatory grief from your loved ones, being forced to become a monster and what to do when you're a monster no more.

                                          BEWARE THE BEAST BUT ENJOY THE FEAST HE OFFERS.

                                                                                                                             ( psd cred. )

𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 as 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐃 𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐙 as 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐔𝐒