Night's Omen

Xander had been trying to sleep all night, but thoughts of Marisa kept bringing him back to consciousness. He had even taken sleeping pills, hoping that just this once they'd work. They had no effect, as usual, and he'd finally thrown his blankets aside and gotten up, giving in to his insomnia. He lazily wandered out into the den area of the Onyx Guild House, thankful for the clever guise of an old mansion of some sort. Rooms galore, a functioning garage, den, rec area... they even had a tennis court. Lovely.

He flopped down on the couch and picked up the remote, rubbing his eyes as he turned on the television. Channel surfing commence, t-minus.. now.

Felix spent most of his time awake.  He needed sleep just as much as any other living (or undead) creature did, but he was definitely some sort of insomniac.  At least he thought he might have been considering that he slept only a couple of hours a day.  Either that or he was just a freak.  That was debatable.

He had been doing as he usually did, sitting on the bed with a book in his hands, when he suddenly decided that he felt like being productive.  Maybe paint a glorious picture or something of that nature.  Making this decision, he stood up and left, heading into the main area of the guild house to search for some paper.  He had paper of his own, but it wasn't the weight he was looking for.  Something heavier than the average printer paper was definitely necessary, not that he was entirely sure that he would find canvas paper around, but it was worth looking.

The sound of the television caught his ears.  Someone else was awake.  It didn't take long for him to make it into the room, glancing down at the couch and also the back of Xander's head.  "What's got you up so late?"  It was worth attempting conversation.  He could continue his dire search for his painting necessities later...

Or at the same time.

He did a quick scan of the room, turning full circle.  Felix spotted a few loose papers on the table across the way and muttered a soft "aha" before heading on over.  ...No, not what he was looking for.

Xander had been so zoned out in the t.v. that he hadn't heard Felix come in, which was unusual. He jumped a little as the young vampire spoke, and then bit his tongue, biting back a sharp response to being startled. Part of growing older was knowing when to yell at people and when you were just pissed off at yourself, and so he should his head a little. It was now that the question arose, to be honest, or to lie? Neither seemed very appealing, and Xander wasn't much for serious effort towards thought at the moment.

"Eh, had a bad dream. Why're you awake?" he asked, looking over the back of the couch at him as he shuffled through some leftover papers on the table. He was curious to be sure, Xander was usually very left to himself. It wasn't that the wolf had a bad attitude, it was just that sometimes he tended to creep other people out because of his size. He fit right in at Onyx, anyways. Why, there were petite females here who turned into vicious hyenas that could snap bone with their jaws. What was a wolf shifter the size of a linebacker to someone? Really.

"Looking for something?" he asked after the vampire seemed to become discontent with his findings.

"Can't sleep," he answered as he shuffled through the papers.  It didn't occur to Felix that Xander could have been lying about a bad dream, at least not initially.  It seemed like a perfectly reasonable explanation and really, who was he to question?  If it wasn't a bad dream, it wasn't really any of his business.  Of course, Felix wasn't exactly the most considerate vampire to ever walk the earth, but that wasn't exactly on purpose either.

At Xander's second question he nodded, turning dramatically on his heel to face the couch again.  "Yeah, actually I am.  I need some kind of thicker paper.  I was kind of hoping for just some canvas paper, but construction paper could work too."  He placed a hand on his chin thoughtfully, tilting his head up towards the ceiling.  "Oh, you know what?  I could just use an old cardboard box..."

He abruptly realized something and he had to ask.  "Wait, you have bad dreams?"  Xander, the big wolf shifter who was both solid physically and (seemingly) emotionally had bad dreams?  That didn't seem possible.

"Dude, someone left a bunch of paper in the rec room on an easel..I almost mowed over it earlier trying to find my way around in the dark. Is that the kind of paper you're looking for?" he asked him, mind slowly catching up to speed. He turned more fully on the couch, still watching the vampire with his eyes, which at the moment seemed to be more of a glass bottle green than anything else, and now were very wide and aware.

He seemed a little taken aback by the vampire's question, and furrowed a brow. "Yes," he said steadily, not sure how this was going to go. "I do, from time to time. If it didn't mean giving up everything else in my life, I'd gladly trade you places for the ability not to," he said. He'd heard vampires didn't dream at all. It was a welcomed idea to the haunted memories he had. "It doesn't mean I still don't kick ass," he added quickly, a warning tone in his voice, although the deep bass from his vocal chords had a hint of a laugh to it.

"Oh, really?  Gee, that makes life easier," Felix laughed sheepishly.  He wasn't the one who left paper in the rec room, but he also couldn't imagine who else it could have belonged to.  Then again, it just as easily could have been anyone's.  "I hope no one decides to claim it after I use it because it's definitely mine now."

And then Xander said something about wanting to trade places (but not really) so that he didn't have to dream.  That sounded cryptic.  He did grin and raise his hands in mock defense, showing that he meant no harm and was certainly NOT questioning Xander's level of badassery, but he wondered just what could have been bothering the wolf so much that he wanted to never have to dream.  He could have, he supposed, just glanced into the shifter's mind for a few answers, but that was a line he never felt like crossing with his fellow guild members.  If someone didn't want to talk about something, so long as it wasn't a possible threat if they didn't, Felix wasn't going to be the one to find out without their permission.  That was just way wrong.  On top of that, Felix had never really honed in on that skill.  Maybe it was better that way.

"You know, I liked dreaming.  Even the occasional nightmares were tolerable.  I don't really recall any details that came with it, but I know it couldn't have been all bad."  He shrugged his shoulders weakly, trying to subtly suggest that Xander was better of dreaming than not, then let his focus shift to the television screen.  Maybe a turn in conversation was in order.  "So, uh, is anything relatively decent on at this hour?  Or is it only reruns of the Brady Bunch?"

"Well, sucks for them. A lot of this house acts on the 'findsies, keepsies' mantra, so I wager they've probably forgotten about it altogether and won't miss it, or at the very least accept in some small manner that it's gone and they're going to have to buy more," he said, turning back to the television. "Serves them right for leaving it out where I could nearly impale myself on it." And how. He was bigger, but still moved with a certain amount of speed that made him thankful he was a shifter, but like a typical large male, he lacked the grace to get out of the way when he plowed into it. "Stubbed my toe," he said under his breath.

He glanced back up at Felix as he spoke his piece on dreaming, and frowned a little. "I'd rather do without them at all," he said honestly. He looked back at the television. "Brady Bunch is on for ten more minutes, and then it's a Fresh Prince Marathon. Allll riiiight," he said, reading the guide. He stood up, knowing he had ten minutes to burn. "Want a soda?" he asked, his large form already lumbering passed Felix and in the direction of the kitchen. It wasn't the caffeine he wanted - it was the carbonation.

Felix almost literally bit his tongue when Xander commented on stubbing his toe.  He wasn't sure what exactly he had been going to say, but he knew that whatever it was, it was better to not say it at all.  There was no point in causing any sort of fuss, even if he wouldn't have meant it the way that it more than likely would have sounded.  At least he was actually thinking for once.

Pushing past Xander's Wall of Negativity (tm), Felix grinned when he asked if he wanted a soda.  "Yeah, sure," he answered before glancing back at the television.  He hated the Brady Bunch when it came out originally, so there was no way that he would ever like the reruns.  Ever.  He then followed Xander towards the kitchen doing some sort of shuffle.  "Good thing the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air's on.  Even if that guy's a Scientologist, Will Smith is still hilarious."

Scientology.  What was the world coming to.

Xander shuffled back from the kitchen with two Dr. Peppers. "These have absolutely no value to our kind, and yet, they taste so good," he commented, holding one out to Felix. "My wife used to swear if she didn't have a soda a day, she wouldn't be able to think straight. I think she just liked to forget where she put all my socks," he snorted.

He dropped back down on the couch with such vigor that if Felix had sat down, he'd have been popped up for a brief second as the cushions settled under the weight change. Hey, he's a big guy! "Scientology? Wait, isn't that the 'religion' written up by the science-fiction author?"

He stared blankly at the television for a second, and then looked at Felix for an explanation. Wat he say?

Dr Pepper, despite the fact that it was lacking in the same affects it had on humans, was still good.  Xander was absolutely right in saying so.  It sounded as though his wife had the right idea as well.  People who didn't like soda were absolutely insane!  He gladly took the offered soda, popping the can open with a flick of his finger and then wandered over to the couch where Xander collapsed with great momentum.  If Felix had sat down first, he would have lost half of his soda on himself, he was sure of that.

Felix sat down beside the wolf, taking a swig of Dr Pepper and looking half-expectantly at the television screen.  The Brady Bunch was ending.  "Huh?" he answered intelligently, glancing back over to Xander.  "Oh, yeah, that'd be the one.  I didn't know Will Smith was one of them until I overheard someone talking about it downtown.  It's fairly sad in a commiserable kind of way.  It just seems to be a popular trend among the headliners, almost as much so as checking into rehabilitation clinics.  I can't begin to imagine why, though."

"Don't they ask for a whole bunch of money in order to absolve people? Man, I wish I could just suddenly stop accepting responsibility for my own actions. Wouldn't that be cool?" he asked. It was strange that a vampire and a wolf were having this conversation, especially given their position in Bruja - but somehow, it was a slight comfort to Xander that he still felt he had moral ground to stand on. And he did have some morals, or so he liked to think. No women, no children. No taking the Lord's name in vain. Give to the poor. All that jazz.

"Did you see the South Park episode with them? Heh, Tom Cruise was in the closet and John Travolta had to find him. Pretty funny stuff."

Felix could talk about nearly anything and be content about it.  In actuality, there was only one main reason he was affiliated with Onyx, the reason being that he was a very flashy kind of person.  Scaling buildings to dangle people over the street below in broad daylight, unleashing a chaotic fireball into the masses for the sole purpose of hitting one individual--that was what he did.  He was not particularly violent or crazy, although he was mildly afflicted with stupid (some might say terminally) which did lead to some sort of psychosis or seemingly suicidal tendencies.  To top it all off, he was not a very powerful vampire nor was he very intimidating, so naturally he had several strikes against him.  At the very least, he was certainly good at what he did.  Usually.

"It would be nice to be forgiven by slipping the priest a $50, I have to admit."  The prospect was ridiculous, although certainly reasonable in a corrupt sort of way.  "But no, I didn't see that.  Is John Travolta a Scientologist too?"  That would just figure.  He grinned slightly, "And just what sort of closet was Tom Cruise in?  The literal closet or more of the figurative version?"

"Yeah. Notice all the good actors, like.. ones that have been around for a while are doing it?" He snorted again as he realized which episode this was - Hillary and the Playboy Issue. "It's like they rope in the older, more seasoned actors and then use them to lure in younger and more stupid actors.. It's exactly opposite of Onyx. When we get trainees they stick 'em with the craziest people here. Did you ever see Domingos and Ritya? Wow. I think he shot that kid more times than he helped him."

He paused. "Are you training still, or are you a member?" he asked. He couldn't remember. He had trouble keeping track of everything, these days. A vacation was, perhaps, in order.

Felix had to wonder; how often did he and Xander even cross paths?  It couldn't be that often because he didn't actually recall ever see him in action before.  He didn't entirely need to considering the wolf's massive size alone, but he wondered what his techniques were.  Someone must have commented on it before though, he just must not have been remembering very clearly.  That was a fairly believable notion.

"Yeah, they really do pull in the A-listers.  It's such a shame that they have such a far fetched religion, too.  Most of them would walk all over Christianity, but say anything negative about their science fiction 'religion' and they're all up in arms.  It's completely backwards."  Felix took another swig of his soda, watching Will Smith appear on the screen dressed as colorfully as ever.

When Xander asked if he was still in training, Felix's eyebrows furrowed together.  Was he serious?  He glanced over at him and, sure enough, he seemed to be completely serious.  Felix didn't exactly peg him as the 'jokes out of left field' type.

He wondered just how he was supposed to answer that question.

"Uh," he tried, smiling slightly.  "I've been a hunter since before you were born, sport."  He joined Onyx sometime in the late 60s or early 70s.  Before that, he had been a renegade hunter in New Orleans.  They didn't have organized guilds, but a group of people would exchange information underground and they would take action in groups of two or three.  It was efficient enough.  "After doing it so long, I sure hope I'm not still in training.  And if you're going to inform me that I am, don't or I might just keel over now."

Rafael sometimes put a good bit of effort into the way he looked, usually into the punk-ish style of clothes he had going on, but this definitely wasn't one of those times.  His crayon red hair was sticking up in all directions and his blue eyes were half-lidded from sleep as he entered the room, headed immediately for the fridge, no questions asked.

He just STOPPED in the middle of the floor when Felix called Xander 'sport', though.

WOW.  Just, wow.  He turned and cocked an eyebrow at the pair, wondering what he'd missed, and couldn't help snickering some.  He was a little more awake than when he'd walked into the room, that much was certain.  He finished his progress towards the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water, but now he was paying more attention. 

"Felix, didn't you get the message?  Dude, you're getting stuck with Verde for a few months, and if you survive, they'll call you a hunter again," he piped in with a grin, cracking into that water.