Nyx
Nyx hunched over the handles of her black motorbike, hair whipping wildly in the wind as she drove the speed up another notch and the engine screamed. Stereoheadphones plugged into her ears nearly drowned out the roar of her motor as she yelled the lyrics along with it. "The wild one, Oh yeah, I'm the wild one. Gonna cut loose,gonna break loose, cause I gotta tell ya baby, I'm a real wild child!" She laughed as she saw a small dirt ramp in front of the Sunnydale sign. What the hell. She'd never died yet. She gunned the motor and headed over to the ramp, driving up it and then soaring over the sign. Or nearly. She clipped it with her back wheel and landed in a swirling spray of gravel and dust before laughing, and driving on.
Better watch out Sunnydale, because a dangerous little kitten just rocked up, and there's a storm a'coming. She could feel it down in her fur, a big bad growly storm, and all the floodgates of heaven were about to crack open. LA had been hit by a meteor shower, hence some of the reason for her rapid movement, but Oz had told her about the Hellmouth. With a wild rebel yell, Nyx passed the outskirts of Sunnydale at midnight, darkness veiling her from curious eyes, but making enough noise to wake the dead. Which was a possibility in this town. Curiosity killed the cat, but she was still kicking and curious as ever. She'd check this place out, if it killed her. And hey, if there was gonnna be an Apopcalypse, she wanted front row seats, throwing popcorn and cussing at the actors.
Nyx surveyed the cemetary, one ear pricked for the sound of otherwordly beings. Crypt. She needed a place to sleep, and from what Oz had told her, there were lots of crypts. Town of the dead. And the undead, but hey, who's watching here? Fledge. She shrugged and wheeled her motorbicycle towards what she thought would be a big enough crypt. If it wasn't empty now, it soon would be. She leant the bike up against the wall and then cracked the door to the crypt open, taking a long, cautious sniff. Dust. Some blood. Old blood though. She smiled, exposing sharp needle-like teeth before wheeling her bike inside. Big coffin in the middle, goth baroque-y style carving on the walls.
"Pretty girl, out here all alone..." She whirled around, cursing herself for being caught by a godsdamned fledge! A friggeting fledge, for the love of the Eternal Mother. A burly, ex-biker leant on the door of what she considered *her* crypt, now. Ooh, but he was going to pay. He moved forward, grinning all over his stupid face. She smiled again, fun way to christen her new crypt. Not as fun as the other type of christening, but a fight's as good as a shag. She carefully took off her black leather duster, humming slightly. Big and stupid frowned. "Whatcha doin'?"
"Taking off my duster so it doesn't get your dirty dust on it, silly," she explained logically, before flipping her claws out. "After I take your head off, it's going to be kinda dusty." She advanced on the vampire, cruelly curved claws extended and smiled at the dumbstruck vampire. "Let's dance, baby."
He gaped at her, before taking one ungainly swing, missing her as she flowed under his guard and sliced across his throat. He burbled through a slit throat, and she frowned.
"Damn, need to sharpen my claws. I usually take the head off with one swipe." The biker tried to swing at her again, yellow eyes weeping tears of pain. She dodged and then took his head between her hands, twisted, and removed his head from his body. It wavered for a minute, and then exploded into dust. She dusted her hands, grimacing. "Blech, vamp dust."
She then put her coat back on and bounced over to her bike. She rummaged in her backpack for a moment, before removing her laptop. Magically powered of course. She linked to the Net and browsed through her mail. Spam, spam, spam, spam, wonderful spam! Monty Python were a riot. Something here. She clicked on the letter and it opened. Oz boy saying hiya, and come online soon. Wonder if he was online? She went to her chat room. Hey! He was there.
Meow? says:
Hey wolf.
Wolfieboy3578 says:
Hey, pussycat. Where are ya?
Meow? says:
Sunnydale
Wolfieboy3578 says:
i told you not to go!
Meow? says:
like i ever do anything anyone tells me
Wolfieboy3578 says:
i know thats the prob
Meow? says:
sorry. i wanna met the slayer. maybe i could kick her ass
Wolfieboy3578 says:
dont try it
Meow? says:
why the hells not? not like im gonna kill her
Meow? says:
maybe rough her up a bit
Meow? says:
i like to fight
Wolfieboy3578 says:
i know you like to fight. just dont.
Meow? says:
I could kick her ass all the way back down to the gound
Meow? says:
& you know it. ;)
Wolfieboy3578 says:
dont be too sure
Wolfieboy3578 says:
she could surprise you
Meow? says:
hows devon?
Wolfieboy3578 says:
stoned :P
Meow? says:
when isnt he?
Wolfieboy3578 says:
true dat. :)
Meow? says:
say hi for me.
Wolfieboy3578 says:
will do. what is going on with you, Nyx?
Wolfieboy3578 says:
im getting weird vibes
Meow? says:
planning to take over the hellmouth ;)
Wolfieboy3578 says:
...
Meow? says:
joking! joking! mucho too much responsibility
Meow? says:
ill let the slayer look after the place
Meow? says:
but somethings happening
Meow? says:
stormclouds in the air. something big and bad coming
Wolfieboy3578 says:
maybe i could talk to willow...
Meow? says:
wouldn't make you. second thoughts, dont. sunnyhell can function
quite well without u.
Wolfieboy3578 says:
true. did some bad stuff.
Meow? says:
wolf howl your selfpity to the moon, cos the cat aint listening
Wolfieboy3578 says:
lol
Meow? says:
hehehe. im a funny funky kitty
Wolfieboy3578 says:
too true. cya tomorrow night?
Meow? says:
when?
Wolfieboy3578 says:
same time, same chat room. u can tell me about good old sunnyhell.
Meow? says:
im planning to go stalking tomorrow night. & i need to sleep.
Wolfieboy3578 says:
well, ill be here anyway. ill try to get devon online
Meow? says:
OMG, remember the last time dev came online and he was soooo stoned?
Meow? says:
that conversation made no sense
Wolfieboy3578 says:
lol. cya soon Nyx
Meow? says:
cya wolf.
Nyx turned off her laptop and leant back against the wall of the crypt, thinking. She had been serious about looking up the Slayer. It'd be a battle of the titans, her and the oldest Slayer to ever live. And fun. Been a while since she'd fought someone who'd actually tested her. When was that? Oh yeah. Weird Billy Idol wannabe in New York. Killed the Slayer of the time. He had been *good* though. Intense fighting style. A smile flickered over her lips as she set protective spells on her front door, and the sewer entrance she found behnid the coffin. Back doors were handy. Then she settled down to sleep, wrapped up in her coat, pillowing her head on her backpack.