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 You Get Though the Twilight..., tag :: alec lightwood :: open
Rupert Giles
 Posted: Feb 27, 2016 | 2:03 pm
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We'll see it through.
It's what we're always here to do
So we will walk through the fire.
Water and soap, cold from how long it all had been sitting in the sink, ran out from the pan and down the drain. The sound of the crashing splash and the slowly fading drain were the only things to pierce the still quiet of the apartment, before the silence was back. Rupert Giles watched the water as it disappeared, rushing away from the pots and pans and sinks and off to join some other series of pipes before it would join the ocean… He stood looking at the sink long after the water was gone and the faucet was off. It wasn’t due to some great intellectual or mystical foresight, or pondering, but because his brain had reached a kind of capacity, and there was nothing but numbness that could only be reached in such a mundane, normal observation. Water down the drain.

His inert mind was awoken by the thing that called to his English heart; The tea kettle that had been heating in the stove sputtered then committed to its whistle and let him know that it didn’t needed to be heated anymore, thank you. Giles liked this kettle. It was a particularly polite one. Some kettles were screamers and others barely a titter so it was easy to forget that point. But this one he would be disappointed about leaving behind when it came time to move again. He put the pot down and walked the two paces to the stove to remove the kettle from the heat.

He finished the dishes while the tea seeped, and in a few minutes he was walking out of the kitchen and directly into the living room/library/altar space that was the one room that wasn’t a bedroom and bathroom in this tiny apartment. Most of the space in the room was taken up by the casting circle that he had drawn out in it, but he managed to keep a corner of the room separated by the window with just enough room for a desk and a wing-backed chair. While there was a bedroom with a bed in it, he preferred to spend his time in the living room, dancing around the edges of the casted circle. He didn’t like the idea of leaving Buffy alone.

The girl in question had been unconscious now for several days, just this side of a week, and while there had been moments when he was concerned for her, so far she had been, for the most part, stable. At least, she was as stable as a person in a state of astral transdimensional travel could be. They hadn’t gotten to the point where he should be worried about how long she was gone. The Trials were not known to be an easy thing, and time worked differently in all layers of Hell.

They were, however, getting to the point where Giles needed to wonder about where his next meal would be coming from. It was this thought that occurred to him as his skittered around the edges of the circle, settle into his chair by the window, resolve to finish reading the next chapter of his book, and promptly fall asleep. He knew because he blinked for a moment and the sun went from being sometime around late afternoon to being completely gone, and, even more tragic, his tea got cold

Well, that was an afternoon well spent... After he firmly woke up with a start, which was really the only proper way for a slightly paranoid Englishman to wake up, and remembered where he was, he tossed the book aside, slung a disapproving look at his tea cup, and rose from the chair. He stood cautiously, moving only just slightly, and looking down at the sleeping girl... young woman... in the room. The only light of the room came from the flickering candles placed around the circle that encased Buffy Summers. He didn't need to worry about them burning down or going out. Their position in the active ritual meant that magic had a clear hold on them. Technically, he didn't need to worry about Buffy's safety. Not really. Even if someone came in here to harm her, he had made sure to cast extra protections on the apartment and the circle beyond the measure in place from the Demon Trials ritual itself.

He had taken every precaution. He knew Buffy was the Slayer. Even if there were many in the world now, she would still be “the.” For all intents and purposes, she could take care of herself. That wasn't it. The idea of losing her (again) was not a mistake that he could bare to face. She trusted him to protect her now, and he wasn't going to fail in that. His musings, before they could take a predictably dark turn, were put on halt when he stomach reminded him that he had been hungry when the sun went down, and his little nap hadn't really helped him in that department.

He needed to leave. The apartment was short on food, and man could not live on tea alone. He knew, were she awake, Buffy would tell him to get something to eat, but he didn't like the idea of leaving her alone. Worse, though, was the idea of ordering food and having it come to them. The door had a clear view of the living room, and Giles didn't feel like explaining to some wide eyed delivery boy why he had an unconscious twenty-five year old woman sitting in a runic circle in the middle of his floor. So out for proper groceries it would have to be.

He checked the charms and protections two more times before he left, and checked the lock on the door thrice. He would need to be quick, and he thought he remembered seeing a grocer some two blocks down. The worst part would be walking in this February chill...

Twenty minutes later, he was almost back with several bags in hand. He had been doing his best to not look at his watch or in the general direction of the apartment every thirty seconds. He managed to keep it to five, and only look like an English prick with better places to be, as opposed to a paranoid foreigner who looked hopelessly lost. Pulling his coat closer around him, he pushed on and came to the correct building. He was about to let himself inside when something stopped him. It wasn't something particularly noticeable. More like a shift in the direction of the wind, but...

He turned away from the door and walked to the corner of the building. The wall to the nearby alley was made up on one side by the wall that held the window to the apartment Buffy was in. Looking down the alley, it was hard to tell, but he was certain there was something there, and it felt like it was something that shouldn't be. Since they was not some casual Sunday stroll he was on, he knew better than to ignore that gut feeling.

Without a word but with his groceries still in tow, he made his way into the alley, sidestepping slowly, and prepared for he knew not what.

notes: starter!
words: 1206| tag: alec, open

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Alec Lightwood
 Posted: May 20, 2016 | 6:43 am
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Shadowhunters didn't hunt alone, at least they weren't really supposed to, but there was no real rules against it specifically which was why Alec was out here, glamoured up carefully alone with his weapons and a backpack. There had been a very small blip on their radar that required quiet reconnaissance that Alec had volunteered for since he needed to go out anyway. It had been a very long night and Izzy had tried with all her heart to make them a good hearty dinner. It had ended up so bad that even Iz demanded that they get something to eat out.

That was where they were presented with a bit of a problem. Clary shouldn't be leaving the Institute, neither should her mundane friend and Alec had an awful feeling about leaving Jace alone with them, especially Clary. The idea made his chest feel tight and caused his teeth to clench, even though the 'why' of it was buried so deep he didn't want to admit it to himself. He knew he could trust Izzy to watch Jace, though he was less than happy with the attention Izzy was paying to the mundane, but someone needed to go and they all couldn't all go, so here Alec was.

Finding the demon wasn't hard, it was skulking in an alleyway by a couple of apartment buildings much too close to the mundanes. Pulling an arrow out of his quiver, Alec lined up a shot, usually Jace or Izzy would start a confrontation with something witty, but that wasn't Alec's strong suit so he settled for just shooting it. The demon jerked around in a way that Alec hadn't expected and the arrow went wide, barely grazing the thin, membranes looking skin that covered the creature. The blood that welled up to the skin seemed to glow a pale blueish gray as the creature turned toward Alec. This wasn't a demon that he'd ever encountered before, the mouth seemed melted together, red eyes glared at him from deep set eyes. Hauling back he kicking at the demon's chest, Alec was less than pleased when it's claw's wrapped around his booted ankle, trying to knock him off balance.

What in the name of the angel?

It seemed like every move he made was being read and guessed before he even made it. Frustrated, Alec tried to wrench himself out of it's grip, swinging around with his bow in an attempt to get himself free. Instead of the grip loosening, Alec found himself twisted around at the same time he tried to get free and the eldest Lightwood found himself flat-backed on the ground with most of the wind knocked out of him. Struggling to breathe as his bow clattered just out of reach. This was great, exactly how he needed this solo mission to go. Fingers flying to his belt, Alec wrapped his fingers around the hilt of his seraph blade and pulled it free without activating it. Feeling claws digging into his pant's leg, Alec punched out with the hilt, looking like he was going to use it as was. At the last second he muttered "Jegudiel." into the air, the blazing bright blade shooting from the hilt and going straight through the demon's throat. There was a faint gurgling sound as Alec jerked the blade out one side of the demon's neck, then back around to fully sever the head.

As the body fell away, Alec rolled over, putting his blade away and attempting to wipe the faintly bioluminescent blood off himself; but it was no use, it was everywhere. He could even feel it soaking into the neck of his teeshirt and growing tacky on his face. He was going to need a shower in order to get everything off. Behind him was the clattering sound of trash cans made Alec whip around in time to see another of the same demon running off. Bending down to retrieve his bow, Alec's attention was drawn to more movement at the end of the alley that held his attention. There was a mundane with groceries standing at the opening of the alley, looking right at him.

"Angel take it..."
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Rupert Giles
 Posted: Jun 1, 2016 | 12:06 pm
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We'll see it through.
It's what we're always here to do
So we will walk through the fire.
Whatever was happening at the other end of the alley, deep within the bowels of the shadows, it sounded like it was trouble. What he might have been able to pass off as two alley cats fighting in the darkness if he had kept walking, it was clear to him now that whatever was down there was larger than any feline he hoped to meet in a city. It made him pause, not out of fear or trepidation, but out of a realization that the only thing he had to arm himself with was fresh produce and an element of surprise that he might not be able to properly get a rein on before it was lost. Whatever was happening started dire, though, and he knew that every moment he dawdled was another moment lost. If he was going to get involved, then it need to happen now, so he steeled himself, and prepared to charge into the last bit of shadow that obscured the scene from him.

He was two paces into his charge when a shape burst from the darkness. The two of them collided, though Giles seemed to be more startled by it than it seemed to be of him. The collision meant that he got a very up-close and personal look at what it had been that came at him. Though the figure was tall, so was he, and he ended up being eye to eye with the creature… if it had “real” eyes to offer. Another important feature that he marked was the lack of mouth, and the impressively poor complexion of the beast, before it barreled through him, knocking him to the side. Where ever it was going, it wanted to get there fast, and it didn’t really care about what state it left a guy like Giles in while it went. Rupert could feel his head hit the brick wall hard enough to rattle his bones and clench his jaw. Oh look, a concussion. He knew that particular ringing is his ears, and the cotton wrapped around his brain. It was a wonder he wasn’t brain dead yet…

He must have bit his tongue, too, since he tasted the tang of copper in his mouth and a rush of pain along the muscle. He hissed lightly, an involuntary reaction as his hand reached for his lips. He realized in the hassle, he had dropped the groceries, and any hope of sparing anything that wasn’t in a package was lost when he saw the dirty puddle that they had fallen into. No, Rupert, don’t focus on the fruit. Focus on what you saw. Don’t get distracted… you saw… He knew that creature. Sunnydale. A few years back. From what he could remember, they were relatively rare beings. Oh, what the Hell were they called? The only thing that came to mind were “scabby demons,” but that couldn’t be it. It must be the concussion. What did he know about them…. As he head spun, he tried to focus on knowledge and ground himself. He knew he had already passed the wave that would tumble him into unconsciousness. Now, he needed to get through the wave that would induce nausea.

Buffy had been the one to call them “scabby demons,” and it was as good of a name as any. No mouths. No ears. Telepaths. That would explain why the demon had not been too surprised to find Giles there. Even if it weren’t actually looking for Rupert’s thoughts, a demon who uses it as his primary form of communication could glean at least surface thoughts against all except the most shielded of minds. It probably heard Giles thinking about cats, and knew exactly where Giles was. What else? Typical demonic strength and agility. They had given Buffy a bit of a problem, but they were taken care of in the end. And yes… “they.” They tended to hunt in pairs, silently, using that telepathy to their advantage. Pairs… oh, no…

The realization that there could be another one nearby shot Giles away from the wall, all danger of what another concussion might do to him flying out the window. Buffy could hold he own against these demons. Rupert could not. It did not suggest that he would retreat. He was just grossly unarmed, so he could not afford any more disadvantages. The universe had different plans, though, and when he shot from around the dumpster that he had ended up perched behind, another figure came out of his blind spot. He had enough time to see that it wasn’t another demon: young man, maybe early twenties, dark hair, clad in leather, before the two of them collided into each other. No.. no, stay on your feet, old man…

He managed, even it earned him a few sore limbs as he untangled himself from the mess the two of them had become. He turned and tried to keep going down the alleyway, trying to get his sights again on the demon that fled, and keeping an eye out for its partner. It was a sideways jog, though, since he kept looking back, trying to see what had happened to the other man. “Are you all right?” he shouted back, looking back only briefly to see if the man was seriously injured, before turning again to look for the demon.

Nothing…

He cursed under his breath. His path him took him to the end of the alley and back out into the sidewalk, but he doubted the demon went that way. They preferred to stick to the shadows, so there was a good chance that it had, rather, gone up. He turned, and his eyes darted up to the walls, looking for places where it could have climbed, or where it may still be lurking. He called back to the young man. There was a good change that this was an innocent being exposed to the supernatural for the first time, or something else, but he had no time to sit and explain anything if it was the case. The demon population in this city seemed to be well under control, so the fact that there were a pair of “scabby demon” hunting rather openly in the middle of the city wasn’t a very good sign. He needed information, and he was grossly without it. ”Did you see where it went? Did you see another?”

notes: nice to… meet you?
words: 1069| tag: alec, open

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Alec Lightwood
 Posted: Jun 28, 2016 | 2:28 am
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The acidic burn in Alec's mouth told him that some of the glowing blood had made it passed his lips, which immediately caused him to roll over. The headless corpse that was still covering the lower half of his body made the motion not quite as effective as it should have been; still Alec felt himself retch a few times, stomach churning as he spat onto the already filthy sidewalk. As much as Shadowhunter blood was very prized among Downworlders and demons, Demonic blood was poison for Shadowhunters, short exposure was enough to leave someone with the equivalent of mild chemical burns, prolonged could be more like acid burns.

As he spat the taste lessened, but the burn remained, lingering. Shaking his head, Alec hauled himself out from under the body and climbed to his feet, angry at himself for how disorganized he'd allowed this fight to become. There had been a second demon, he'd seen it out of the corner of his eye while he fought the other one. But as he looked around, searching even the entrances of rooftops, Alec saw no sign of where the other had gotten to; could have gotten any number of places.

Cursing under his breath, Alec collected his bow from where it had fallen and clipped his seraph blade back to his belt where it belonged as he looked up at the mundane that appeared to be looking in the same directions as he was. Meaning he'd seen the demon. Strange, but not uncommon, some lesser demons didn't have the same kind of camouflage as others. However it was a little less common that the man could also see Alec when he was covered in glamour runes to protect against this very thing. In the flurry of escape, the demon appeared to have knocked the mundane's groceries all over the ground, the knot of hunger in his own stomach felt a flash of sympathy, but at least it wasn't the mundane's head.

That would have been much worse.

"I saw it, though the better question is how did you see it?" he avoided for now the question about where it went, that wasn't a concern for most mundane's, meaning it wasn't any of this man's business for now. The burning on his skin where he hadn't been able to get off all the demon's blood was starting to get painful but the first thing that Alec pulled out of his pants pocket was his sensor rather than a stele. The small plastic object was about the size of a closed flip phone, but covered in runes with a crystal screen. Right now it pulsed calmly with the familiar blue-white of a whitchlight; if there were demons in the immediate visiting it would pulse red, meaning the demon was gone, at least far enough out of range that the sensor wasn't picking it up as an immediate threat, but that also the man standing before him was likely a mundane. Most Downworlders had better things to do than to interfere with a Shadowhunter engaging with a demon, often worried that they were going to attract the Shadowhunter's attention, Accords or not.

"Angel take it, you've got the Sight, don't you? You're a mundane with the Sight." Oh, anyone else would have been a lot better at this than he was, he thought as he pushed the sensor back deep into his pant's pocket where he'd feel it go off in case of emergency.

This was just great.

Wiping the rest of the demon blood off as best he could, Alec considered cursing again, but knew it would do no good. His skin was the bright red of a burn and starting to bubble a little in the places where it had laid thick the longest. This whole afternoon was just getting more and more inconvenient.

Mundanes, everything in his life lately was being overtaken by mundanes. Mundanes where he lived, now mundanes where he fought, mundanes that weren't really mundanes, mundanes stealing away his sister, his parabatai. He knew that his job was to protect mundanes because they couldn't do it themselves, he was fine with that, but nowhere in the Shadowhunter texts did it say that you had to deal with them this often. In fact, they strongly encouraged a low profile and not getting them involved in the Shadow World at all, which was a rule that Alec was behind 110%. It was a good way to make them targets and to make things even worse.

Taking a few steps to the side and starting to take his jacket off one shoulder as if the mundane wasn't even a concern, Alec put the building they were standing next to to his back before scanning the perimeter one more time as he pulled out his stele, he needed to put an iratze on himself before the aftereffects of the demon blood made him sick. His arm and, without the jacket helping to distract from it, his chest were covered in runes, some that had been used up were silvered, some still active or more permanent were pitch black.

"You should probably collect your things and go home, this is official Shadowhunter business." he told the man. If the other had the Sight he was old enough that this wasn't the first strange thing that he'd seen and that meant, whether the Clave was happy about it or not, he was likely involved with the Shadow World one way or another; or better yet just looking for an excuse to leave so that he could go home and explain this odd encounter away for himself.

While it would have been the best placement considering that was where the burns were, Alec couldn't rune his chest or neck without looking. This was where going out with a partner was preferable, Alec felt a pang of saddened annoyance that he was out here by himself while his siblings were caught up with the Fray girl and her pet mundane. Pushing those thoughts aside, Alec set the stele to the inside of his shoulder, as close to his chest that he could get while still being able to see, and carved the iratze there, face unflinching despite the slight scent of burning flesh. Maybe the rune would take care of the pounding headache he was starting to get in his head. He needed to try to go after that other demon, but he had no intel on where it might have gone and what was he supposed to do, wander all over the city until he found it? Besides he needed to get home, there was someone there who needed him.
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Rupert Giles
 Posted: Jul 13, 2016 | 4:06 pm
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We'll see it through.
It's what we're always here to do
So we will walk through the fire.
Oh, no. No no no. Rupert Edmund Giles had not room in his life for sass right now. He had lived too long, seen too much, and worked too hard to earn this kind of treatment from a Shadowhunter on a bad day. On many other days, Giles may have spent his time apologizing or at least trying to prove his sincerity and usefulness with a more polite, gentile, and (frankly) English nature. The last year… hell’s bells, the last decade… of his life had been spent to the point where he was beyond the morals and manners, at least for tonight. The fact that he dealt with the gang back in Sunnydale… the fact that he dealt with Ethan Rayne… He had enough sass in his lifetime to suffice until the day he died. Considering he had just lost his dinner all over the sidewalk, he was coolly finished.

The groceries were a lost cause. What wasn’t directly ruined by the gutter water that everything was bathing in was ruined by the unhygienic nature of the New York City streets. Giles spent a moment frowning at it all, before slowly looking back up at the young man. So, he was a Shadowhunter. Giles had rare occasion to meet one in person like this, and never when they were on a hunt. As a general rule, many of the places protected by Slayers did not need the Shadowhunters, so while in Sunnydale, they would have never need or come across one. Since it had been several decades since the last New York Slayer, Nikki Wood, had been around, it was no surprise that the Shadowhunters had moved in as the primary source of protection for the city.

Giles could not fight the clucking sound he made in the back of his throat with his tongue, his tell that he was annoyed and on the verge of just not giving any more damns. Shouting and yelling would do nothing for him, though, so he continued to let the cool annoyance flow over him like water. His eyes danced over the young man in the same calculating way that he scaled his enemies up during his Brixton days. The young man was covered with runes that would be mistaken for tattoos, but Giles knew better. He recognized many of the marks from a book that was once held in the building of the Watchers Council in London, now destroyed by the Harbingers of the First Evil. The runes were part of The Grey Book. Only the higher level students of the Council had been allowed to even look at it, since it was the only copy that the Council was permitted, and Giles’ eidetic memory had captured every one.

His calculated glance over the hunter also told him that he had open wounds. Smatterings of the demon’s blood were still all over his skin and clothing. The particularly concerning parts were the parts where the blood was near the wound, and even around the hunter’s mouth. Some of his irritation smoothed away at that. It wasn’t good, but maybe it was a lesson that the Shadowhunter deserved. He waited a moment, and watched some more, the hunter clearly paying him no mind after dismissing him. “Your iratze isn’t going to work,” he said after a time. He adjusted his glasses, the last mark that he was even remotely disheveled after the encounter with the demon. He spoke with authority and certainty, and he did not hesitate in his cadence. “Not if the demon blood got inside of you. An open wound. Your mouth.” He pointed to the places where he could still see the sticky sweet blood on his coat and face. He face suggested he was serious, but that was all. He would help, but there would need to be a change in how he was treated. Giles had no problems walking away from petulance if it served to teach a lesson, and one this young Shadowhunter desperately needed to learn.

“I remember that word. ‘Mundane.’ Several of your Clave members called me it when I contacted them about my instatement as Head of the Watchers Council a year ago. It came with a rather negative connotation that left me with the feeling that I was being looked down upon, a sentiment I did not appreciate.” His eyes were unyielding when he looked at the younger man. He knew the tone that had been used when he had been called it before. When they said “mundane,” they meant “lesser.” Like Hell Giles was going to be treated like that.

“My name is Rupert Giles, and since I’ve been hunting demons for twice as many years as you have been alive, I can easily say that you are going to need my help.” He crossed his arms over his chest. The young man was taller than him by about two inches, which was impressive considering Giles’ own considerable height. That did not keep him from flying a stern look that he had seen wither the likes of others of similar nature before. Now, chances were, since he was across from a Shadowhunter, and they were a more battle-hardened people, he would not get the same shrinking reaction, but Giles was at least being stern. Stern was taken seriously.

“Now, will you be introducing yourself?” Giles finished with, pointing out the lack of manners that this young man had already treated him with. As one last punctuation, he opted to end his point by driving home just how much he hated the word “mundane” and the inflection that came with it. “Or will I be calling you ‘boy’ for the rest of the evening?”

notes: I don’t think that Alec has ever met anyone like Giles, so I am excited to see what he does next!
words: 953| tag: alec, open


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Alec Lightwood
 Posted: Mar 5, 2017 | 7:04 pm
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As soon as the older man spoke again, Alec paused and turned back around, he hadn't expected him to still be there. He'd expected a mundane faced with a demon so closely would take any opportunity to run. But hearing that crisp accented voice call the rune by it's proper name, even with perfect pronunciation, Alec felt his stomach drop. Oh good, this wasn't just some mundane whom he'd shot his mouth off to, great. Wonderful. Just what today needed. Reaching up with his sleeve to wipe at the blood on his mouth, he'd known it was still there by the way that it burned like he'd been in the sun too long. There was a tightening in Alec's brow, he couldn't even tell for himself if he was nervous or pissed off at the way everything was unfolding. The second demon was gone, completely, he'd missed it. After Izzy just saying without saying less than a week ago that he couldn't handle going out all by himself. Now he'd proven her right.

Head of the Watchers Council...

Oh yay.

The Nephilim knew about the Watchers Council, the crew from the New York Institute heard parts from their parents, part from Hodge that they used to try to keep at least a working relationship with one another considering that they were working toward the same end. The Slayer, whoever she was at the time, usually went after vampires more often than demons, but their paths might cross from time to time. There was only one Slayer, but almost every major city had at least a handful of Shadowhunters, even dying out as they were; and better to have a working relationship than get one of their own or one of the Slayer's killed over a kind of turf war or misunderstanding.

How the Clave might have reacted to the appointment of a new leader... Well the Clave wasn't known to be very welcoming of change. Alec felt his stomach knot up, but he schooled up his features. The last thing he needed was to be a further embarrassment to his people in front of an emissary of esteemed group. Alec couldn't even say that he hadn't intended to offend him with use of the word 'mundane' because as far as he was concerned that as just the word for plain everyday mortals. Many Shadowhunters did look down on mundanes, a little like speaking with a child since they spent their whole lives trying to protect them, it was their purpose.

"So you know the demon that.. this demon? Have you dealt with one before?" Alec nudged the body at his feet with the toe of his boot, breaking his silence with the option for more information gathering. The more he knew about this demon, the easier it would be to track the one that had gotten away. The man's authoritative voice made the soldier in Alec want to fall into line, but the idea of falling in line to a mundane was one that was harder to wrap his mind around. He'd had so many mundanes lately that were just coming in and turning his whole life on it's head that it was almost getting hard to breathe. But it wasn't often that he'd had someone who wasn't one of his family members just put him in his place like this. At best Alec tended to be.. grumpy as Izzy put it, but it usually got people to leave him alone and stop talking to him. It was easier to keep secrets if you didn't need to talk to anyone. This wasn't going to be the case here, he actually needed the Watcher if he was going to complete his mission, meaning he needed to play nice-r. It was also made very clear that this Rupert Giles wasn't putting up with any young adult Shadowhunter attitude.

"There isn't much the Clave holds in any kind of esteem, I can't speak for them, but I doubt it was personal." He couldn't make excuses for their governing body because their wasn't any. The Clave was as the Clave had always been, they believed that the Law was hard, but it was the Law; then, now and forever. The Clave didn't even show loyalty to their own people with enough consistency to be counted upon. There was no guilt or innocence, there was only a severity of punishment. So while he couldn't bring himself to bend to the Watcher before him, Alec could treat him as an ally instead. If he had more information on the demon, then that was what Alec needed, and Angel knew that a Shadowhunter took any tactical advantage that they could find to get a leg up on the demons. And he'd been taught how to speak in Council meetings, he was old enough for them now, so that meant he needed to know how to behave.

"Alexander Lightwood of the New York Institute." he responded, he wasn't used to introducing himself, he didn't run into many people on his own, you didn't introduce yourself to mundane's you rescued and anyone who came to the Institute already knew who was supposed to be living there. Often when he met people it was in a group with Jace and Izzy and he was usually 'and that's Alec.' It saved him from having to do it. "Alec is fine, Mr. Giles." He didn't know if Council members had certain titles, but he was pretty sure he'd be corrected quickly if that were the case. Pulling out his phone, Alec sent a quick text to Izzy, knowing she would be able to drag herself away from her 'charge' easier than Jace would, letting them know that the mission was going to take longer than he thought and to have Taki's deliver.

"Now why did you say that an [i]iratzi[/i[ wasn't going to work? They heal nearly anything, though it might take a couple applications. It's just demon blood, it burns for a while, but as long as you get it off, there's no lasting damage."
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Rupert Giles
 Posted: May 3, 2017 | 12:25 pm
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We'll see it through.
It's what we're always here to do
So we will walk through the fire.
Giles regarded the young man across from him, relaxing, but not letting the aura of authority slide away just yet. He was not a fan of pressing this kind of attitude into the world. He didn’t like it when he father acted that way, nor any other superior member of the Council during his lifelong stay with the group. This Alec, however, seemed to respond to it, and it would be foolish and jarring to let it go now. Clearly, this was the role he needed to play right now. He accepted that. He accepted a lot when he stepped up to be the Head of the Council. He was more than just a teacher now.

“Yes,” Giles said with surety that lack hubris. “I faced one before with my Slayer, and on a Hellmouth.” He paused for a moment, remembering it being one of his less-than-shiny moments as a Watcher. Such a semi-common demon, and Giles could dig up no information on the fly about them back then. Buffy had taken to calling them “scabby demons” or some such nonsense in the wake of that, and the name had stuck. He was pained to remember that his research on these creatures had gone so poorly, he had needed to rely on a compendium with pictures, and his initial reading and translations had not been enough to save Buffy from the pain that the eventual telepathy caused. His teeth clenched together tightly at the memories. It had not been earth shattering, but it had still been a failure.

Alec spoke about the Clave, and Giles calmly raised a hand. “You don’t need to speak for them, but I know that they also do not, entirely speak for you.” He wasn’t going to be hard on someone just because of the authority that was held over them. He remembered being a young man under the thumb of strict, conservative rule. It had been one of the things that inspired him to run away. For all he knew, Lightwood was just as repressed, or even worse, as Rupert had been at his age. Of course, Lightwood could also be just as stuck up and arrogant as the Clave was, and being forced to be in a position where he had to play nice or risk problems between their two parties. He was smart with diplomacy, at least. “And right now, that is all we need to say about our factions. There is a demon lost in the big, bad city.”

He nodded at the name offered to him, remembering the surname of “Lightwood” among some of shared histories that the Council once held. For all their bluster, Shadowhunters seems like a rather tightly knit group of people. Surnames surviving this long, consistently, either meant integration, or sustainability through weak numbers. It was a strange burden for anyone to bear. He tried not to outwardly cringe at the sound of his own name with the title “Mister” in front of it. It made him feel old and like he should be cloistered away with his books to keep him from getting too broken. “And please. ‘Giles’ or ‘Rupert’ if we are going to be working with each other, Alec. I can’t…” He thought of coming up with an explanation for Alec, but what would a 20-something year old understand about a man pushing 60? Why would he care? He dismissed the rest of thought with a “I just can’t,” and a shrug.

The subject quickly turned back to the demon and the danger of it. Giles glanced down at the wound. The causticness of seeing the injury knit itself back up under the influence of the rune while the true danger still lurked under the skin was not lost to him. What would have happened if he had not been here? Giles did not need to look at the wound. The wound was not the problem. It was the blood. “Your runes will heal the injury quite nicely. It won’t even leave a scar, I imagine,” he said, not without a touch of irony. “But the demon’s blood got on it, didn’t it? It’s already inside of you, and not unlike a blood disease, it has probably already infected you.” He felt like a doctor giving bad news to a patient, and while he was used to being the one to deliver information that was not always stellar, he didn’t know how Alec would handle it.

They needed to move quickly, so while Alec deserved to know more about what was going on, they couldn’t stand still anymore. He started walking down the alley, looking for the trails of blood on the ground left behind by the… sigh… scabby demon, hoping that it would not heal before they were able to track it down. “The blood causes those infected with it to be ‘blessed’ with an aspect of the demon. When it happened to my Slayer, she was given the same telepathic ability that the demons have. At first, it was short range but eventually it covered the scope of the whole town.” Giles did not want to see, first hand, what it would be like to experience all the active thoughts of a city the size of New York.

“For her, it took almost a whole day to get that bad, but I do not know how it will react with your angelic blood, nor if it will have a different effect than what it had on a Slayer. All I know is how we managed to cure it before, which I suspect is the only way to help you, as well.” The trail took him in the direction the demon had fled, and while it was along the lines of a fire escape, it led them directly in line of the sidewalk. Giles paused, taking a moment to say the last of what he needed to say. “ We will need to render the heart of the same kind of demon down into a potion for you to drink... and I do not know if that will be in conflict with your Nephilim blood.” Buffy had taken the potion and had been fine, but, as it turned out, Slayer powers came from a compact made long ago to bind the Slayer’s body to a demon’s. It gave him pause, but in the end, that decision was also up to Alec. ”All I do know is that we should find that demon as soon as possible, if only to save more innocents from it. For all we know, the blood will have absolutely no effect on you, but we should be sure.”

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Alec Lightwood
 Posted: Jun 3, 2017 | 8:56 pm
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"Rupert then." Alec agreed with a curt nod, they referred to their teacher by his given name, with the offer between them, Alec just felt more comfortable with it. The one thing that Alec thanked the Angel for was that it seemed Rupert had spent more than just a little bit of time in the field, that he was more than Hodge had complained about 'Watchers and their books" as if they had no other skills than their research. To the contrary of what Hodge had muttered when he thought his young charges weren't listening, Alec had found that such pursuits weren't as much of a bad thing as it was set up as. Alec held a strange sort of respect for the research types, the ones who trained their minds with weapons of ink and knowledge, it was the respect of knowing that he'd never be able to be that kind of person, but he knew very well their worth. He'd done well at his studies of demon codex's and the Gray book, but only because it was expected of him; it would help on the long nights in the streets.

At the assurance that the wound itself would heal without scarring, Alec swallowed back a retort that all spent runes were were burn scars, that wasn't in any way helpful or contributive to the conversation. But hearing a phrase like 'demonic blood disease' made Alec go still for a second. "So I'm infected." There was rarely any room for 'maybes' in Alec Lightwood's life; his luck dictated that if something could go wrong, it was just easier to assume that it had. Even now, Alec couldn't tell if it was the introduction of the demon blood into his system that was causing the skin under the newly healed wound to start to itch, or just years of very well founded paranoia.

As he saw Rupert's eyes trace the ground in search of the demon's spilled blood, Alec mentally gave himself a hard shake. No matter what had happened to him, he still had a mission to complete. Looping his bow back around his shoulders after retrieving it, Alec pulled his sensor out of his pocket and held it up to a pool of the demon's blood, making note of it's reaction to the demon's specific frequency. Feeling it warm in his hand and click twice, Alec held it up and drew abreast with the Watcher, listening to the rest of the information.

"Some blessing..." he muttered, unable to keep the sarcasm out of his voice this time. And he'd been doing so well up until now too. He didn't need the older man to spell it out for him, there was a very good chance that if the infection didn't kill him, then the cure could very well do so instead. Angel blood wasn't always it was cracked up to be. Death was always a possibility for Shadowhunters, they were taught that lesson very young; but as Rupert spoke, Alec worried more about the possibility of this infection having any effects on Jace through their parabatai bond. The idea of that made him feel a little sick. His brother didn't even really know what was happening.

But that wasn't something he could focus on right now, he was going to be strong, Jace would have been if their positions were switched. Of course Jace more than likely wouldn't have missed the second demon and their problems would have been at least cut in half to what they were now. As they walked down the street, Alec tried to keep a tight reign on his emotions, tried to act very calm in the face of possible death. Rupert had said that there was the possibility of around 24 hours or so before his situation got to it's breaking point. Alec at least hoped he'd be able to keep himself together as long as he could. Being able to hear people's thoughts was something that scared him more than the possibility of death. He was pretty sure he knew what certain people thought baout him and to be able to hear it straight from their own mind was going to hurt. Especially after not only missing half of the demon squad, and then turning around and getting himself infected in the first place. Good Job, Alec.

"The most important thing is getting that demon off the streets and we're going to." Alec assured him, jaw set in a determined scowl as the sensor went off in his hand and Alec gestured in the direction that they should have been heading in. It's travel pattern was a little erratic, it seemed like it almost had figured out where it was going, but then had been wrong and it needed to double back. "I'm also bound to by brother.." Alec said after a few minutes of silent tracking, "I want to make sure this doesn't find it's way down our connection to Jace." In truth it seemed unlikely to happen, but Alec still had a sick pit in his stomach. Ignoring it as best he could, instead he looked at Rupert and refocused himself on the mission, "Any idea if these things have an accelerated healing rate beyond what human's have?" If they lost this blood trail, Alec didn't know how in the hell they were going to find this creature in a place as big as Manhattan, if it even bothered to stay on the Island.
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Rupert Giles
 Posted: Jun 26, 2017 | 12:32 pm
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You Get Through the Twilight
Giles had to admit, he found the resilience of the Shadowhunter that he was now paired with to be a relief. For the better part of a year, he had spent a lot of his time with new Slayers, called up by everything that happened in the battle against the First. Most of them were green, with no experience on the streets or even in the world, much less in the practice of fighting demons. His reunion with Buffy had been cut short by her desire to save Anya, and that meant Giles had been on his own for nearly a month. Being out of the apartment, doing something, and with a seasoned (albeit young) fighter felt a little like how he used to back in Sunnydale. He had some concerns: chief among them was how Alec treated him up until he knew that he wasn’t a true” mundane.

What was a “true” mundane, anyway? They hadn’t dived into the topic, but Alec had given him the impression that Giles was not supposed to be able to see him. Now, Giles knew about the Grey Book, and had even read a few pages from the copy kept by the Council, and he was aware of the more common Shadowhunter practices, one of them being the use of glamour to hide their dealings from the “mundane” world. Acceptable…. But it was his understanding that it took someone with some sort of supernatural heritage to see through the glamour. The thought made his jaw tighten. Maybe it was a fluke. Maybe he had been exposed to so much of the supernatural elements of the world that a glamour rune would no longer work on him. It seemed the most logical explanation. Magic was funny sometimes. Still, the thought nagged…

The two of them fell into line with each other. Giles immediately got the impression that Alec did not like him. It was not that Giles needed particularly to be liked. He was old enough to have his own priorities straight when it came to that, and he had given the Lightwood no real reason to be anything except cooperative. After their interaction, it was hard to tell if Alec was just naturally bristly, or if he just didn’t enjoy the Watcher’s company. He was competent, though, and strange bedfellows could be made in time of need.

And then they were moving. There were enough witches he knew who used tracking spells. Giles used them himself often enough to recognize that kind of magic when it was in front of him. The glowing device in Lightwood’s hand seemed to be doing just that, so he trusted it and he trusted Alec. “I cannot be certain about their ability to heal. They are a subterranean race, and they do not come above ground often. Their ability to speak telepathically and lack of mouths makes… let’s say, interviewing them… very difficult.” They turned a corner, moving downtown, away from the more centralized parts of the city. It was hurt. It knew it. And it didn’t want to be found. “I am not sure if that will affect your… bond? With your brother.” Here, Giles was lost on the ways of Shadowhunters. He did not know what it could mean, or if it was different.

“I can tell you, that they are intelligent, though. I saw a cult of them attempt to open the Hellmouth in Sunnydale a few years ago. They were willing to sacrifice their lives to complete their task.” Giles would not soon forget the image of one of the mouthless demons clutching what it saw, no doubt, as a holy relic, and launching itself into the flaming maw that was the Hellmouth. A kamikaze mission that had horrified Giles in the moment. “They have a culture, and they have tactics, just none that we will ever fully comprehend.”

He stopped in his tracks, those thoughts slamming into him in a cohesive thought. Why would these demons be here? When they had first encountered them, the Scoobies thought that they were some primitive race that was attacking the town for the sake of causing chaos, or perhaps to feed, and that had been a reasonable assumption at the time. As it turned out, though, it well may have been a first wave of warriors and scouts sent in advance. The real follow up came later. He stopped in his tracks, reaching out to touch Alec on the shoulder as he did. “Alec… I know that there is no Hellmouth in New York City, but I would imagine that you have something like one. Are there any nearby? A junction of lay lines? Or, is there some sort of mystical convergence approaching? “ They had made the mistake of underestimating these beings before. Giles did not want to do that again.

[-] words: 807 {-} tag: Alec Lightwoof [-]
[-] notes: the plot thickens [-]
THANKS PANDEMIC!

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Alec Lightwood
 Posted: Jul 4, 2017 | 1:01 am
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"Subterranean? If they're coming to the surface, is it possible that it may have some kind of demonic rabies? Something that would make it go beyond it's usual patterns of behavior?" Alec wasn't trying to be funny, if there was any chance at all that there could possibly be a demon running around with the equivalent of rabies, they were going to have to do something a lot bigger than just tracking it down on foot. There would have to be a warning, sending out multiple squads of Shadowhunters to try and deal with the threat before it started further endangering the lives of mortals. All because he couldn't kill it himself when it had been right in front of him.

Swallowing back a curse, Alec's eyes swept the alley's for any sign other than the regular warm vibration of the Sensor. "He's my parabatai, we're... close." Alec explained, the ending falling a little flat, fears not abated at all. They didn't know, but how could they? If these creatures were as rare as Rupert made them seem, then it wouldn't have been easy to study them and their behaviors to see what or how their abilities worked on other supernaturals. That didn't make Alec feel any better; but all the same he had never heard of anything like this being able to travel down the bond like this and infect the other half of a set of parabatai.

The sound again of Rupert's voice cut through his worries and Alec put his focus back on the mission at hand, the one that if they completed it well, there would be no need to worry about his family then, would there? A whole culture and there wasn't really a single way to get information out of them, Alec tried not to feel like they kept running up against brick walls with this task as he looked down at the sensor in his hand hopefully as it buzzed, but it revealed nothing nearby. It took him a second to realize that Rupert had not kept pace with him and Alec turned, looking at the other man curiously.

"Yeah, there's at least one set of bisecting lay lines through the city, that and its just sheer size and population are some of the factors in mind when they built the Institute here." And the entrance to the Silent City too, but Alec wasn't sure how much of their culture Rupert knew at this point. Some things you kept to yourself until it was relevant. "As for convergences, that I wouldn't be able to tell you, there's been a severe up shoot in demonic activity over the last few weeks or so, maybe a little longer that we haven't been able to get on top of the cause of it, merely keeping our heads above water in trying to keep everyone safe. However we have alerts set up with warnings if there's some kind of convergence or festival day at the Institute so that there's no way to forget..." Alec trailed off as a thought entered his head and he considered it, weighing it against itself for pros and cons and realized that it may be a smarter option.

"If we were to go back to the Institute, we'd be able to check our more extensive monitors, sync up the Sensor," Alec gestured with the device in his hand to make sure Rupert knew what he was talking about "And we'll be able to get a much wider map area of where it might be and where it might have come from. Much more exact than wandering around on foot while we could be getting further and further behind."

If Rupert was the Head of the new Watcher's Council, while he may not be able to 'demand' entrance to the Institute on his own, he would be allowed entrance. Besides if anyone had a problem with it, they could take it up with Alec, who was in no mood to have someone coming down on him for trying to do some good for once. If a Watcher was asking questions like Rupert was, Alec could feel it in his bones that there could be something potentially very wrong going on in New York and he wasn't going to cripple himself for resources and information just to keep one of the Shadowhunters that were passing through from getting their stele in a knot. His family was in charge of the damn Institute and with his parents in Idris, it didn't make Alec in charge, but at the same time, he freaking lived here. If Jace and Izzy could bring mundanes in for potentially less dire circumstances, then he'd be allowed to as well.

It's a few blocks up and over, and if you could see me, you should be able to see it no problem. If you're willing, let's go.
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Rupert Giles
 Posted: Jul 5, 2017 | 12:23 pm
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You Get Through the Twilight
The more they worked together, the more Giles was learning about Alec. Seeing how much he was trying not to show that he was worried about his parabatai told Giles more about how Alec worked. It didn’t tell him everything, but it turned the page a little more. This other person, the one he called his brother, was someone that Alec cared for very deeply, but to show that in front of a stranger was something he wouldn’t do. Giles wondered if Alec showed his emotions at all, even to the people close to him. Maybe emotion was a weakness. Maybe Giles had not earned his trust yet. Maybe this was Alec showing emotion. He didn’t know. What he did know was that the two of them had fallen into a rhythm.

“That’s the problem, Alec,” he said, not speaking to him as a child, but informing him as a peer. “We know too little about them to understand what is even normal. For all we know, they are like cicadas, and pop out of the earth once every few years. Maybe they have entire underground cities that we do not know about. For all we know, this is regular, or atypical, or both.” His shrug was not a dismissive one, but one of genuine lack of information. He could have lied, but Alec deserved the truth. He was putting his life on the line for this.

Giles listened when Alec began to speak about returning to the Institute, and getting batter lay of the land from the systems that they had in place there. It sparked Giles’ curiosity, to be sure. He had never been inside an Institute. The only Shadowhunter facility he had even been in was the meeting room of the Conclave, which was clearly a setting chosen to be imposing and, possibly, intimidating, and it had only been when he named himself Head of the Council. If he had been a lowly Watcher, he would have never seen the inside of that building. It had been an argument to begin with since no one really appointed Giles the Head, or even voted him in. He was just the last Watcher left, really, outside of a few scattered about the world, and when none of them volunteered for the job, it was simply process of elimination.

In a world before the Attack on the London Council, Giles would have never been allowed inside that building. Shadowhunters had an impossibly strict “No Mundanes Allowed” rule when it came to their workings. They were worse than the Council, even, using their own magic to render themselves invisible. Giles did not completely approve, but he always lived in the gray area when it came to disclosure to the masses. He was certain that the Clave would not approve of the way he was running things, too, so he kept his mouth shut.

And right here was proof! He could guess at what Alec was saying they should do: gather more information. He just didn’t understand what Alec meant using the method he described. So, in this, he would trust Lightwood. He gathered it had something to do with setting up this Sensor of his to the monitors at his Institute, and- Oh, God! Was this going to be computers? ”Whatever resources you have available…” he said, keeping his expression open, even as the trepidation of being confront with the necessary use of technology was presented to him. “I am your guest.” For once, he was hoping someone was going to give him the “don’t touch anything” instruction.

He followed close to Alec, closing his coat around him even tighter than before. The winter wind was kicking up, and he knew he would prefer if he got inside for a bit before returning to the streets. He did not dress for a long night of hunting, but for a quick walk to the store and back. He was luck he even had gloves to his name. He just hoped that some starving street critter would enjoy the meal of the groceries he left in the alley.

[-] words: 687 {-} tag: Alec Lightwood [-]
[-] notes: lead the way! [-]
THANKS PANDEMIC!

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Alec Lightwood
 Posted: Jul 8, 2017 | 11:51 am
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While he usually spent most of his time doubting whether or not he'd made the right decision, the closer they got to the Institute, the more confident Alec was in his choice. This was going to give them the best view of the city, it was going to be much smarter than wandering around the city in the gathering dark with the wind whipping around. The warming rune that was settled on the inside of his arm made it easy for him to ignore - what felt like - the chill in the air, jacket open with his bare hands at his sides. It wasn't until glancing at Rupert all but huddled against the wind that Alec realized how cold it actually must be outside.

Thankfully the Institute was only a few streets over and a few blocks down, the way that Alec needed to weave around people told him that his glamour rune was still working fine, there was just something about the Watcher that made him immune like a Downworlder. That was a mystery for another day. Once they rounded the corner and the Institute came in view, Alec tried to remember the first time he'd seen it. He'd been maybe seven or so when they'd come over from Idris - turns out they'd been kicked out - but in the last more than a decade, it's high impressive spires and arches and towers were all just home. He was used to it, he saw it all the time. Though he was curious if Rupert was going to see it as it was or as the run-down and abandoned church that all the mundanes saw.

Pushing open the gate, Alec let Rupert inside ahead of him and made sure it was closed tight behind them. "Welcome to the New York Institute." he offered, hoping that he wasn't sounding too lame; Alec wasn't great with small talk, though he'd made a few feeble attempts on their way here but nothing earth shatteringly important. Izzy had always tried to tell him that he needed to talk, even a little when walking with new people, even if it was just to gather extra information. It was a struggle and unless given something that he could easily bounce off of, Alec tended to lapse into a companionable silence.

Taking the lead again as they made their way inside, Alec felt the wards wibble a little to let him know, in case he didn't already, that the man following him wasn't Nephilim. In part that felt like a bit of a blessing, Alec wasn't sure he had the wherewithal for another secret Shadowhunter. Clary - while useful and not as annoying as he made her out to be - was more than enough. Alec felt like he was still recovering. There were a few other Shadowhunters that were scattered around the halls, walking to and from, mostly minding their own business, though Alec caught a few of them casting a few glances their way and muttering to one another. Angel knew that one of Shadowhunter's biggest weaknesses as a people was that they tended to be huge gossips if left in large groups.

Keeping his shoulders back and his face blank as he led the way over through the main hall and into their main 'control' room, Alec immediately walked over to one of the halo-tables and plugged his Sensor in the slot so it would download the signature of the demon. Though he took charge of the computers, it wasn't to snub Rupert, in fact he gave him full view of everything they had here, he immediately took charge of pulling up the maps of the city, zooming and following the trail of the demon mostly because you only needed one person to man most of these computers and why would you shove your guest right at your tech. That seemed rude.

"Alright, it looks like this is where we started." Alec offered, zooming in on the alley they'd vacated less than an hour before. A deep red light lit up the path that the other demon had taken. "And these would be the laylines and how they lay through the city. Maybe you see something we haven't." Alec pushed a few buttons and lifted a hand, causing bright purple lines to rise up from the table to lay over the map of the city.
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Rupert Giles
 Posted: Jul 14, 2017 | 5:49 pm
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You Get Through the Twilight
Giles clenched his jaw hard as they walked, keeping them from chattering as they made their way in silence. Giles would have liked to have said that he spent that time, in mostly silence even with his companion, by thinking of some kind of solution to the problem at hand, or to the multitude of problems that he was leaving back at the apartment, but in all honesty he was just trying to keep himself focused on warm thoughts, and trying not to shiver openly. A few city blocks later, and they were there.

The Institute was a marvel to look at, and it took a moment for him to remind himself that this was not the world that most of the resident of New York City saw. The signs outside the gate warned that the building itself was condemned, but to Rupert’s eyes it appeared as a sweeping cathedral, inspired by the French and Italian masters, with a hint of German Gothic inspiration. That was where the limitations of his architectural knowledge peaked, but he could still appreciate the impressiveness of it. He was from London, though. Old, tall, castle-like structures were common enough where he did not stare as they entered the Institute.

Giles knew a magical ward when he felt one. Alec did not linger in his steps, but it very well may be because he lived here and was used to it. Or maybe the wards were tuned to anyone except Shadowhunters. All he knew was for a moment it felt like he was walking through warm jelly. It was not an uncomfortable experience. It was more like the air offered up resistance, and then he was through. All Giles needed to do to catch up with Alec (the man on a mission) was elongate hiss strides a few steps. No big deal, and painless.

As they moved down the hallway, Giles realized that his initial concerns were, in fact, true. “Monitors” had meant some kind of computer. They were not small ones, either. Quick looks at the displays showed him that the Institute was keeping an eye on the entire city. He did not know how effective this system was, but judging from the intensity that several other (he assumed) Shadowhunters were using them, the technology seemed to be trusted. It did not mean he knew what to do with it, even if it was more mystically inclined than the average computer.

Alec took to steering the computer and brought up maps and tracks and… well, Giles was sure there were fun computer lingo that everything was called. All he knew is he saw what was presented to him: A map, tracking the course that the demon took, and the ley lines of the city. There was something… off about it all, though. He had spent a long time looking at how the centers of energy and magic affected this city. He had been careful when he picked out a location to cast the ritual to send Buffy to the Hell dimension Anya was in. He knew what the lines should look like, and while he may not have noticed it he was looking casually, they were actively searching for something now.

Unconsciously, he moved closer to the map, his head cocked inquisitively. “There is something… strange. If this were a city I knew, I could tell you what, but… I do know that the lines do not look the same as they did several months ago.” He adjusted his glasses. He had a few guesses, but he did not want to alarm anyone when he was not certain. But he could, in an odd way, feel it. “Do you have an expert on the lines of the city? Or, perhaps-“ He did not get a change to finish his sentence.

An alarm, a very loud one that demanded immediate attention, started to ring through the room. Giles jumped at the sound of it, his arms briefly flying to his head to cover it from what his body assumed was an attack. When he realized he was all right, he quickly took them down and looked around. The other Shadowhunters in the room were reacting as well, and he heard the mention of the phrase “wards” and “breach.” He immediately turned to Alec, hardly lost, but looking for an explanation. Were they in danger? Was this something that followed them back?

[-] words: 782 {-} tag: Alec Lightwood [-]
[-] notes: uh oh... [-]
THANKS PANDEMIC!

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Alec Lightwood
 Posted: Jul 22, 2017 | 9:53 pm
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"Not easily reachable." Alec answered, considering Magnus as an option, but bothering the warlock too much wasn't something Alec was ready to do quite yet, not if they had other options. Don't wear out a precious resource when you just needed to work a little harder to get the answer, then not having access to that resource later on when you had no other options. "But we might have records of what the laylines looked like a few months back. We take pictures of them periodically, though I'm not sure how far back we keep them on file." In theory, these records were to keep track in case of instances exactly like this, but it was so strange to think that laylines wouldn't be where they belonged that Alec had to be honest, he'd never seen anyone check them. Not his parents, not Hodge, no one. It didn't seem like anyone was terribly concerned, so who knew how far back these pictures went. They were taken automatically, that much he knew, so there had to be at least something.

As his fingers moved to try and pull up an earlier map, Alec heard the alarm go off, his hand dropping from the keyboard and flying instantly to the seraph blade at his belt. That was the intruder alarm. Some type of Downworlder had managed to sneak in passed the wards and was now running loose in the Institute. With the thought of the invocated name, Alec's blade sprung to life in his hand as he turned away from the table, toward the Watcher he'd dragged into all of this.

Perfect. First he let the second demon get away after possibly letting himself get infected by it and now he'd let something or someone waltz right in passed him as he walked in the front door to his very home. This was a rookie night, Alec did not know what was the matter with him, but he needed to get a grip on things before he ended up reprimanded with something a little more potent than a verbal warning. Not letting himself dwell too much on the failures of the day, Alec turned to Rupert and was relieved to see that the Watcher looked curious but at least capable. Again, this went against everything that he'd been lead to believe about Watchers, but as he met more and more people not connected to the Clave, Alec was discovering that much that he'd been told at one point or another wasn't quite as he'd been told it.

"There's been a breach in our wards." Alec offered by way of explanation, knowing they didn't have a lot of time. As other Shadowhunters split off into pairs or small groups, Alec knew that he wanted to keep Rupert close for two reasons. One being that the last thing he wanted was some hot-shit Shadowhunter to stab first at the stranger in their midst and ask questions later. Also if his instincts had not been correct and Rupert wasn't who he appeared to be, now was the worst time to have a stranger wandering around the Institute doing Angel knew what on the inside of their wards. "A witch from the looks of it; stick close. We're starting at one of the lower floors." Offices and storage, both for item and criminal, encompassed much of their lower levels, along with their morgue. If Someone wanted in, those were the likely places that they'd have gone to. Either to find something - though whatever they were looking for hadn't been brought in recently - or to free someone, but as far as Alec was aware, they currently didn't have anyone locked up downstairs either. Not even a Downworlder in the proverbial drunk-tank.

As he started to lead the way out of the room towards the elevators, Alec paused and glanced up the stairs into the training area, "Are you trained with any weapons? We've got a few here that aren't blessed." Mostly they were training weapons, but they still had blades on them and could still cut easily if need required. Pretty much feeling like he was learning what Watchers were actually like on the fly, Alec thought it would be better to ask. If Rupert could wield a weapon it would be safer for the both of them as they searched. Alec couldn't help the thought that if someone had snuck into the Institute and was hiding out, they likely meant some kind of harm to the Shadowhunters that lived here, it was better to have everyone who wouldn't be a liability to be armed.
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Rupert Giles
 Posted: Jul 24, 2017 | 12:13 pm
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You Get Through the Twilight
Giles could feel his jaw tense up as he watched the Shadowhunters around them settle into groups. So, this wasn’t some sort of planned drill, then. He supposed it could still be a surprise drill, meant to test the unplanned reactions of the people who lived as the Institute, but Giles was not that lucky. Never had been. If the people around him were reacting as if this should be taken seriously, then he would take it seriously.

Giles hated being caught off guard, but worse, he hated being caught as any kind of disadvantage. The stake in his pocket felt too light, like too little, and he wondered why he always talked himself out of carrying a knife with him again, like he had when he was younger. He told himself it was the habit of a younger, paranoid man, and it would do no good to bring back past behaviors. Every time he did, something went wrong. And then he would have a personal argument with himself how carrying a weapon to protect himself was not the same as falling in with a psychedelic demon cult.

What he meant to think was, he needed a weapon, and the stake was not going to cut it. He was happy to abandon the computer monitors and trail after Alec. He would not be a soldier falling in line, but he would be an ally to them. As if reading his mind, (Giles made a mental note of that; it could be intuition, or it could be something else,) Alec turned to him and asked him after arming himself. His eyes flashed from Alec’s gaze to the glowing sword in his hand, remembering everything that he had read about the Shadowhunters and their seraph blades. He had questioned the legitimacy of angels and their ability to effect the physical world, but the blade seemed real enough.

“I prefer melee weapons. Blades, if it is possible,” he said without a moment hesitation. This wasn’t his first attack. It wasn’t even his hundredth. If he had a sword with him, he would feel a lot better about going into a fight. Already his eyes were scanning around him, taking in all the details, trying to find the things that might not fit. It was clear that everyone here knew each other. In truth, he was the only one who really stood out, with his lack of runic tattoos and scars. And his obvious age. It looked like there was not a single person here outside of their twenties. For a moment it made him feel old. It reminded him of something, though, and when he realized what it was, he could not help but feel somber: The record of Slayers throughout history, something he had studied for years in those younger days. Their birth dates. Their death dates. And the math that lay between.

He shook his head and found his place in the present. No time to wonder after dead kids. Not right now, although a meeting with their Clave night be a good order to have on his plate, seeing as he had experience in the field of witnessing old people sending young people off to die. He turned his attention back to Alec, ready to follow behind him.

[-] words: 548 {-} tag: Alec Lightwood [-]
[-] notes: uh oh... [-]
THANKS PANDEMIC!

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