#hellsmouth.starter

@hellsmouthstarters

melinda had been spending as much time as she physically could in the new orleans libraries. it felt like the perfect places to avoid anyone and everyone from her time. her ID from a year that had not happened yet meant that getting a card of her own was completely out of the question. instead she read what she could within the walls of the building before scampering out empty handed, annoyed. today though, she'd found an occultist book that the whitelighter-witch wanted to take a longer look at. remembering the title, the second she was outside the girl summoned it. in a flurry of orbs, the tome landed right in her hands. pulling it close to her chest she started down the sidewalk. " excuse me, " melinda calls out to the figure a few feet before her, " you know the closest coffee shop around here ? "

Freedom felt so fuckin' good. It was his first time wearing anything other than a red jumpsuit for the last year (you know, the one that told anyone in the place that he was more dangerous than your average convict, the one that meant he had an escort everywhere he went, the one that gave him one measly hour of yard time a week) and just putting on his own clothes had him settling into his old self quite nicely. He hadn't told Olivia that he was going to be getting out today; he'd disappointed her enough already and his date had gotten moved back so many times that he didn't want to get her hopes up for nothing again. It gave him time to deal with his side of things before surprising her. After all, he missed his daughter more than life but he had responsibilities to the pack, to his brother. Plus, he had a feeling he needed to clean his house before bringing her home. "Been gone a year, who wants to bet that one of my idiots friends threw a party at my place and didn't bother to clean it for months?"

He could solemnly swear he was up to no good. Then again, Rainier could nearly always make that promise. Another year, same Rainier. Chaos he had covered. Stealth, on the other hand? File that under: needs improvement.

The Resistance had their chance to mind their own business and focus on actual problems in 2031, and they failed. Now if someone needed to go in and light some fires (literally or figuratively, he had yet to decide), well, he volunteered. He wasn't keen to need another portal for them to try again. Second time better be the charm.

Hearing commotion to his right, he knew they'd been had. Well, shit. No heroes among demons, Rainier opted to use the diversion to take his exit and reconvene. Turning to nearly collide with someone, he immediately put the attention on anything other than him. "They went that way."

a SNAP bolted wesley's attention to the one standing before him. the other had uttered something- a joke ? - that they had chuckled at while the words flew through wesley's ears. "sorry." he said at their stare. "i think my sense of humor's trapped in a jar somewhere."