What a rockin’ weekend! Happy birthday to me, first and foremost….haha. It was probably the most memorable birthday to date…save for my 23rd…but that’s a loooong and somewhat sketchy story. Saturday Walter and I went to a very nice dinner, and we got to talk. Ya know, like really talk. I figured I kinda scared him off a bit with the whole “OMG! You’re a gigantic deamon!” during the previous session with the beaters, so we kinda hashed that out. It wasn’t easy, given that his mind is so analytical. I’d just like to note the irony in a man who is so scientific/analytical makes more comments about blowing things up than anyone else I’ve fought alongside. After hearing some horror stories of how things went before I got here, I guess it’s pretty easy to see why his mind goes to the simplest way of resolving a problem. That’s okay, I’m really whupping these boys into shape…and by boys, I mean Walter, because we haven’t seen Gabriel in some time. And to be fair, I wouldn’t finger the blame for their haphazard hunting style on Walter. This Jack guy seems like a trip…I’d say that the group shaping up had as much to do with him leaving as it had me showing up. ANYWAY…yeah, I really think we made some break throughs at dinner…although I still think he is threatened by a strong woman like myself.
And OMG, I was touched by his gift. Any other guy that has given me a gift has always been so shallow…the gift anyway. Well…most of the guys were too. Diamonds may be a girl’s best friend, but when she has a crowded room of best friends, it’s not the best gift. I was expecting a nice watch, or a necklace, you know, the kind of thing I’d wear once, and then put it to the back of the dresser. But he shocked me by actually making me a Grappling hook gun! I know, right?! How sweet is that? Functional and thoughtful. Did NOT see that coming. I’m beginning to think that Walter may not be as simple as I thought, but much more complex. Or maybe I’m just seeing things in him that aren’t there.
So after dinner, we headed out to the club. No, we weren’t dancing-we were hunting. And same as last week, the results were nill. So before we packed it in, we decided to check out the parking garage, just on a hunch. Women’s intuition should never be doubted. At about four A.M., after watching some of the tapes while monitoring the live feed, we noticed a hobo stumble in and get clocked by a Bible Beater. That’s when we made our move. We came, we saw, we kicked It’s ass. Haha. But seriously, that fucker came out of nowhere and nearly separated my shoulder blades…from my body. The weird thing is Walter had his gun…which had some sort of technologic upgrade…I dunno…anyway, he had his gun trained on me, watching my ass when the Beater smashed me. Well, maybe not watching my ass, but I wouldn’t put it past him. He says he didn’t see anything until after I got clocked. We watched the tapes after the fact, and saw him (the Beater) walk up and line up his shot. Odd. Anyway, he’s lucky he got that shot in, because the rest of the fight was downhill. I stabbed him with the Trident…which works wonderfully, thanks to Vis and Walter helping me out with it. He dropped like a sack of…well sledgehammers. Then Walter was there in an instant, filling him with some hot lead. Ironically, it was Vis who finished him off, thanks to his perseverance. The Beater was definitely outrunning both Walter and I, but Vis hitched a ride, and finished the job.
Here’s another thinker: this guy looked like your average Joe…save for Trident wounds and gun shot wounds. He didn’t look remarkable in the least, like a kid…well, not a kid, maybe a guy around my age, who picked up a bible and a sledgehammer and just started killing. It’s weird the way our business works like that. One second your pumping a twelve foot tall wolf with silver in the gut, the next there is a naked man laying in front of you-dead- by your hands. It’s a real mind fuck. That’s why I find comfort in alcohol. It keeps my thinking clouded enough that nothing makes sense. Haha. But seriously…total mindjob. We later went back to the garage, to try and find another Beater. We came up empty, but there was…something there. A disembodied voice of some sort. Here’s the thing: Walter scanned the area with his ethereal goggles…and found nothing. Really creepy. Vis claimed he didn’t hear it…but he may just be fucking with me. He likes to do that sometimes. Plus I think he is threatened by how close Walter and I are becoming. Ironically enough, I think Walter is threatened by how close Visanthe and I are…hmmmm…Men. We did end up finding a box of sledge hammers in the garage…so we’re pretty sure they were using it as some sort of a base of operations. We’ll continue to survey the area.
I can definitely see a change in myself. After downing the Beater, we looted him, and I snatched up the Bible. I perused it myself, finding nothing remarkable, but I wanted to send it to Arthus at the least, if not Milan, to have it checked out. But for some reason, I felt…indebted to Walter…and his organization. They are letting me use their Sneaking Suit, so I felt compelled to let them have first crack at the Bible, knowing full well that they wouldn’t make heads or tails of it, and that WE were better suited to figure it out. But I let him take it anyway. I was going to straight up give it to him, until he acted like a dick head. Fucking prick. Ooooh…GOD I hate men sometimes. Even though I am a strong and tough girl, I still have feelings. Guys just don’t seem to see that sometimes. Sometimes with Walter it feels like it’s One step forward, three steps back.
After the Beaters took out five more doctors Sunday night, we ended up swinging by Dr. McCoy’s and seeing if maybe we could get something out of him. He stiffed us, so either he is REALLY good at lying, or he has no clue what he is doing. He ended up inviting us to his soiree on Thursday night, so we could talk to other doctor’s about this whole thing. I’m worried that it may turn into one huge orgy like usual. It could be a bit awkward…on a lot of levels. Especially since I kinda, maybe kissed Walter. It was in the heat of the moment after killing the beater…while downing a Martini. So I blame the endorphins and the booze. Still…wasn’t awful. We haven’t said anything about it. Which is probably for the best. Still…wasn’t awful.