Evil Angelus 95
Total Dork
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy or Angel. They belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy.
This is from a project that I stopped working on awhile back. Basically I tried to rewrite the Buffy movie to be more in line with the show
A slight breeze was blowing through the air outside the school. A few leaves were rustling, seeing as Fall was gradually beginning to set in. As the school bell rang, the students of Hemery High School quickly exited the building, the excitement of the Senior Prom, now only two weeks away, already in full swing amonst the students.
They really don't know how dangerous their lives really are. Angel thought to himself, looking out through the battered and dirty windows of the equally antique car that Whistler had loaned him. The messenger had as much a taste in cars as he had in clothes...an extremely poor taste at that.
He continued watching as one group of seemingly normal fifteen and sixteen year girls exited the building and made their way down the concrete stairs that led down to the parking lot. Among them was a sixteen year old with shoulder length dirty blonde hair. She was rapidly sucking on a lollipop that she shifted between holding in her fingers and leaving it in her mouth.
"So Buffy, have you decided who you're taking to prom?" One of her friends asked, pushing a few strands of her own mane of brown hair out of her eyes.
"No. I figured I'd let 'em fight over me just a little while longer." She replied, taking the sucker out of her mouth once again. As her group of friends began to disperse, she waved at them, and told them to call her later. Then, she quickly slipped out of her jacket, and sat down upon one of the benches that surrounded the entrance to the school.
She's the one. The Slayer. Angel mused to himself, turning away, and starting the car. No use in hanging around any longer than he had to. Especially considering how strict the Los Angeles Police Force was. They'd just love to bust someone who looked like he was in his late twentys hanging around a school full of sixteen year olds.
Before he rolled up the window, he allowed himself one last look at her. She was just sitting there, waiting for someone, probably her parents, to come pick her up and take her home. There was a certain sense of beauty about her. Rolling up the window, Angel knew that this girl was different. Somehow, she was different.
This is from a project that I stopped working on awhile back. Basically I tried to rewrite the Buffy movie to be more in line with the show
A slight breeze was blowing through the air outside the school. A few leaves were rustling, seeing as Fall was gradually beginning to set in. As the school bell rang, the students of Hemery High School quickly exited the building, the excitement of the Senior Prom, now only two weeks away, already in full swing amonst the students.
They really don't know how dangerous their lives really are. Angel thought to himself, looking out through the battered and dirty windows of the equally antique car that Whistler had loaned him. The messenger had as much a taste in cars as he had in clothes...an extremely poor taste at that.
He continued watching as one group of seemingly normal fifteen and sixteen year girls exited the building and made their way down the concrete stairs that led down to the parking lot. Among them was a sixteen year old with shoulder length dirty blonde hair. She was rapidly sucking on a lollipop that she shifted between holding in her fingers and leaving it in her mouth.
"So Buffy, have you decided who you're taking to prom?" One of her friends asked, pushing a few strands of her own mane of brown hair out of her eyes.
"No. I figured I'd let 'em fight over me just a little while longer." She replied, taking the sucker out of her mouth once again. As her group of friends began to disperse, she waved at them, and told them to call her later. Then, she quickly slipped out of her jacket, and sat down upon one of the benches that surrounded the entrance to the school.
She's the one. The Slayer. Angel mused to himself, turning away, and starting the car. No use in hanging around any longer than he had to. Especially considering how strict the Los Angeles Police Force was. They'd just love to bust someone who looked like he was in his late twentys hanging around a school full of sixteen year olds.
Before he rolled up the window, he allowed himself one last look at her. She was just sitting there, waiting for someone, probably her parents, to come pick her up and take her home. There was a certain sense of beauty about her. Rolling up the window, Angel knew that this girl was different. Somehow, she was different.