chosen800, posts by tag: the initiative - LiveJournal

It was 7 AM at the Flannigan Grocer and Kevin Kilbane, daytime manager of said store and night time vanquisher of undead and hellspawn, was stacking apples in the vegetable aisle wearing his green apron while he thought over the events of the previous night. Finding vampires or other undead creepy-crawlies was the norm in the half-insane town of Cleveland, but what was odd was finding out that there were two slayers, instead of the typical one, and one of said slayers happened to work for him as a cashier. The other was, surprisingly enough, the new girl's roommate. Maybe the rumors were true that somebody upstairs got the accounting all wrong.

The long-term ramifications of having a professional and other-worldly relationship with either of the girls was precarious at best. Kevin's family did not have a good relationship with the watcher community and if either of the girls made a phone call about a Kevin Kilbane, there would be trouble. But, Pandora's box had been opened and he couldn't close it now.

The bell over the door jingled and one of his morning cashiers called out a welcome to the customer. Kevin looked over, noted the person, and then went back to stacking his apples.

Characters: Theodore Knox, Initiative cronies

Setting: Topside military instillation, 23km from the newly discovered hellmouth; Fort Krisp, Ohio

Open to: New Cleveland Initiative team, Faith, Gwen(?), Izzy, Major Knox, Wesley, Orb of Doom. :P

So far: Major Knox grumbles about his wayward daughter and goes in for debriefing at his new post.

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As her chariot, the UNDINE, dove through the depths of Lake Eerie, Gwen kept one hand on the steering wheel and another on what she had quickly dubbed the ‘joystick’ - for lack of a better term - that caused the underwater apparatus to rise or fall. While she was on the plane to Ohio, one of Wolfram and Hart’s operatives had blathered on and on about how the brassy metal one-woman diving machine was the Initiative’s high tech solution to the human torpedo that originated during World War II. Not much interested in an impromptu history lesson, Gwen had quickly terminated that line of conversation in favor of how to control the submersible beetle.

Now, as she sat alone in her stolen underwater vehicle, it seemed all she could remember were bits of nautical babble and Italian commando frogmen blah de blah blah.

“Good thing I’m ace with video games.”

She rolled her eyes, then pushed the joystick forward and eased further into the murky depths.

After what seemed like ages of sinking, she arrived before the section of the stone-faced wall that she was told disguised the entrance to the Cleveland Initiative’s Headquarters. She blinked the chariot’s headlights in a series of long and short flashes.

A-T-L-A-N-T-I-S.

In response, wavelengths shot upwards and downwards on her meter as a voice came over the radio.

“Passcode.”

Gwen punched the numerical code into a keypad on her ‘dashboard’, and seconds later, the voice came back over the comm.

“Lieutenant Marjorie Williams. Welcome back.”

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