[WaM] 026: Put in a call.
Jul. 16th, 2008 02:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
deep_red_bellsCairo, Egypt, 11:45 P.M. // Las Vegas, Nevada, 1:45 P.M.
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Fighting an incredibly strong, seemingly invulnerable demon was hard enough as it was, but it wasn't as though Baileigh had never done it before.
Doing so while yelling at her Watcher over the phone…now that was a new one.
“Big, dark green, really strong, with big goat horn things coming out of it’s head!!” she shouted for the fifth time, and heard Ethan swear, very softly under his breath, and toss yet another book aside. She dropped the hilt of a now very broken sword, ducked under another vicious but clumsy swipe and countered with a well placed kick, but might as well have been kicking a wall of granite for all the good it did. “Some kind of natural body armor. I can’t exactly paint you a picture right now, okay?!”
“There are a fair amount of large demons with curling horns, Baileigh,” Ethan snapped--as much as Ethan was capable of snapping. “And unfortunately none of the etchings are in color.”
“Oh my GOD, your books SUCK!” she yelled, dodging another blow and dancing back a few steps until her back hit a wall, desperately clutching her cell phone to her ear. “They’re called colored pencils, a MARVEL of modern art, for fuck’s sake!!”
“Not that one, dorkus aurelius, the Morté Demon Compendium!”
“I already looked through the--Annie, stop it, you’re messing up my stacking, I have these organized just--OW!”
“Don’t push me, loser face!”
“Could you two possibly exchange noogies and have a shoving match sometime when I’m not fighting for my life?” Baileigh drawled in a painfully sarcastic polite tone, squeaking and ducking under another vicious blow that shattered the stone wall in the very place her head had been a split second before.
Unsurprisingly, they both ignored her.
“Kids? What’s going on?”
“Hey mom! Bee’s about to get killed. Ethan’s an idiot and can’t figure out what sorta demon‘s on her.”
Baileigh narrowed her eyes at Beth Ann‘s matter of fact tone--she was starting to think her beloved BFF was enjoying this just a little too much--scrambled to her feet and broke into a run. The thing was wickedly strong and so far she couldn‘t figure out how to hurt it, so thank God it was slow. “I need a weakness, Ethan! I need to know how to kill this thing!”
“Honey, I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but I need a better description,” Terry’s cool, collected voice took the place of Ethan’s over the phone line. “Something other than big, green and horny.”
“Bow chicka bow wow!”
“Not now, Annie!”
With a frustrated growl, Baileigh slowed to a jog, then stopped, turned around and waited for the demon to catch up so she could get another good look--you know, before it tried to crack her skull open again. Seconds passed that she counted in rapid heartbeats…Jesus, it was slow, but that slow?
She felt a strange rush of air behind her accompanied by a soft popping sound, and caught the sharp, rank scent of sulfur. She spun, but not fast enough. An iron fist slammed into her jaw and sent her flying. Her phone slipped from her fingers and clattered across the ground.
Fuck.
“Baileigh? Baileigh! Bee! Honey?!”
She couldn’t hear Terry calling over the ringing in her ears, barely managed to roll out of the way as the demon tried to stomp on her head. Her hands scrabbled about on the ground for her phone, but just as her fingertips brushed it, she was yanked up back the back of her shirt, lifted up in the air. The material cut into her skin, but that was good…the hint of pain made her reflexes sharpen. She kicked out with both feet, took the demon full in the face. Which pissed it off just enough to make it let her go. She dropped to the ground, rolled and snatched up her phone, and started running. Running seemed to be the theme of the night. “How about we add teleportation to the list, does that help?” she panted hoarsely into the phone.
Terry didn’t answer right away, and for one mad, terrifying second, Baileigh thought her phone had broken…and she was fucked. “It’s a Shitari demon,” Terry’s voice, stern and certain, might have been the sweetest sound she’d ever heard. “Listen to me, honey, there’s a patch of soft tissue on the neck--maybe four inches long, an inch wide. That’s the only crack in it’s armor--”
Aw, great.
“I’ll call you back,” she replied in a rush, snapping the phone closed and shoving it into the pocket of her jeans, changing directions and throwing together a haphazard plan. She heard the same popping sound behind her, but she was already running away, retracing her frantic path and hoping like hell she was going the right way. Turn left here--or was it right?--no, left--down this way, there’s the wall--there!
She stripped off the button down shirt she’d thrown on over her tank top and used it to picked up blade of the sword she’d snapped trying to run the Shitari through. She wrapped the cotton material around the broken end, hissed in irritation but disregarded the nicks and cuts that blossomed red and wet on her fingertips as the sharpened edge bit into her skin, held on to the makeshift handle as firmly as she dared, every muscle in her body tensed and waiting.
Don’t wait for the sound. By then, it’s too late.
The air to her left displaced, like a puff of breath, and she leapt, drove the shard downward with every ounce of mystically gifted strength she possessed.
Fucking bulls-eye.
The demon flailed away from and choked, bright yellow blood oozing from around the shard of metal--and Christ, was it rank. Baileigh landed neatly on her feet and stalked toward it, easily blocked the desperate, clumsy swing, reached up and yanked the blade out, backpedaling quickly to avoid the spray of sulfuric blood that followed.
“Neener, I win,” she informed the twitching body, waiting patiently for the thing to stop moving. It as several minutes before she realized it was her cell phone ringing and not her ears, and she dug the persistently chirping device out of her pocket, only mildly startled by the amount of blood covering her hands--red blood, her own blood. Two deep lacerations across both palms, innumerable cuts on every finger.
Oh well…they’d heal.
“I’m good,” she informed Terry by way of greeting, already unwinding the shredded shirt from the sword blade to wrap the material around her palms and stave off the bleeding. “Demon’s dead. I’m okay. Tell your children I hate them both and I’m so kicking their asses when I get back.”
“I hate to have to be the one to point this out, sweetheart, but you’re the one who wanted to leave.”
“What was that?” Baileigh half-yelled. “Can’t hear you, we must have a crappy connection, or, there’s a tunnel. Yeah, that’s it. Egypt is going through a tunnel. Tell everyone I said hi, gotta go, bye!”
She snapped the phone shut, resisted the urge to fling it as far away from her as was Slayerly possible, and jogged back towards the general direction of her temporary home.
Baileigh narrowed her eyes at Beth Ann‘s matter of fact tone--she was starting to think her beloved BFF was enjoying this just a little too much--scrambled to her feet and broke into a run. The thing was wickedly strong and so far she couldn‘t figure out how to hurt it, so thank God it was slow. “I need a weakness, Ethan! I need to know how to kill this thing!”
“Honey, I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but I need a better description,” Terry’s cool, collected voice took the place of Ethan’s over the phone line. “Something other than big, green and horny.”
“Bow chicka bow wow!”
“Not now, Annie!”
With a frustrated growl, Baileigh slowed to a jog, then stopped, turned around and waited for the demon to catch up so she could get another good look--you know, before it tried to crack her skull open again. Seconds passed that she counted in rapid heartbeats…Jesus, it was slow, but that slow?
She felt a strange rush of air behind her accompanied by a soft popping sound, and caught the sharp, rank scent of sulfur. She spun, but not fast enough. An iron fist slammed into her jaw and sent her flying. Her phone slipped from her fingers and clattered across the ground.
Fuck.
“Baileigh? Baileigh! Bee! Honey?!”
She couldn’t hear Terry calling over the ringing in her ears, barely managed to roll out of the way as the demon tried to stomp on her head. Her hands scrabbled about on the ground for her phone, but just as her fingertips brushed it, she was yanked up back the back of her shirt, lifted up in the air. The material cut into her skin, but that was good…the hint of pain made her reflexes sharpen. She kicked out with both feet, took the demon full in the face. Which pissed it off just enough to make it let her go. She dropped to the ground, rolled and snatched up her phone, and started running. Running seemed to be the theme of the night. “How about we add teleportation to the list, does that help?” she panted hoarsely into the phone.
Terry didn’t answer right away, and for one mad, terrifying second, Baileigh thought her phone had broken…and she was fucked. “It’s a Shitari demon,” Terry’s voice, stern and certain, might have been the sweetest sound she’d ever heard. “Listen to me, honey, there’s a patch of soft tissue on the neck--maybe four inches long, an inch wide. That’s the only crack in it’s armor--”
Aw, great.
“I’ll call you back,” she replied in a rush, snapping the phone closed and shoving it into the pocket of her jeans, changing directions and throwing together a haphazard plan. She heard the same popping sound behind her, but she was already running away, retracing her frantic path and hoping like hell she was going the right way. Turn left here--or was it right?--no, left--down this way, there’s the wall--there!
She stripped off the button down shirt she’d thrown on over her tank top and used it to picked up blade of the sword she’d snapped trying to run the Shitari through. She wrapped the cotton material around the broken end, hissed in irritation but disregarded the nicks and cuts that blossomed red and wet on her fingertips as the sharpened edge bit into her skin, held on to the makeshift handle as firmly as she dared, every muscle in her body tensed and waiting.
Don’t wait for the sound. By then, it’s too late.
The air to her left displaced, like a puff of breath, and she leapt, drove the shard downward with every ounce of mystically gifted strength she possessed.
Fucking bulls-eye.
The demon flailed away from and choked, bright yellow blood oozing from around the shard of metal--and Christ, was it rank. Baileigh landed neatly on her feet and stalked toward it, easily blocked the desperate, clumsy swing, reached up and yanked the blade out, backpedaling quickly to avoid the spray of sulfuric blood that followed.
“Neener, I win,” she informed the twitching body, waiting patiently for the thing to stop moving. It as several minutes before she realized it was her cell phone ringing and not her ears, and she dug the persistently chirping device out of her pocket, only mildly startled by the amount of blood covering her hands--red blood, her own blood. Two deep lacerations across both palms, innumerable cuts on every finger.
Oh well…they’d heal.
“I’m good,” she informed Terry by way of greeting, already unwinding the shredded shirt from the sword blade to wrap the material around her palms and stave off the bleeding. “Demon’s dead. I’m okay. Tell your children I hate them both and I’m so kicking their asses when I get back.”
“I hate to have to be the one to point this out, sweetheart, but you’re the one who wanted to leave.”
“What was that?” Baileigh half-yelled. “Can’t hear you, we must have a crappy connection, or, there’s a tunnel. Yeah, that’s it. Egypt is going through a tunnel. Tell everyone I said hi, gotta go, bye!”
She snapped the phone shut, resisted the urge to fling it as far away from her as was Slayerly possible, and jogged back towards the general direction of her temporary home.
word count: 1204
ooc note: Annie is
morsus_mihi and Terry is if_she_could. Both are used with permission from their awesomesauce mun. Ethan (nihil_dicit) is mine to use and abuse.
