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Below are the 17 most recent journal entries recorded in Jonathan Levinson's LiveJournal:

Saturday, February 12th, 2011
8:41 pm
He doesn't want to admit it, but the imprisonment is starting to wear on Jonathan. He isn't sure which is worse: staring at the four walls, or being cut off from his magic.

At least they've let him have a few books. And it would probably be worse if he still had Sime tentacles. (He'd never have thought Suzi leaving would turn out to be a good thing for him.)
Monday, January 17th, 2011
1:21 pm
[Some hours after this.]

The sun's slanting toward the western horizon by the time he reaches midtown. It's the last stop he's got planned; none of the others, aside from the first one or two to collect supplies, have borne any fruit at all -- and even on those, people who should have recognized him showed no sign of it.

A heavy shutter is halfway down the storefront of Alcina's when he gets there. The sign on the door still reads OPEN, though.

He ducks to look in under the shutter, knocks on the door. Offers Alcina a hopeful smile, when she looks up.
11:06 am
It's quite early, but Jonathan woke up and couldn't get back to sleep. Rather than disturb Andrew, still asleep in the other bed in their room, he wandered over to the kitchen and is currently engaged in making breakfast. He can hear Spike, Angel and Gunn outside in the main part of the warehouse, talking over their latest case. It's all pretty much a normal morning... so far.

These things never last. The doorbell sounds.

Jonathan blinks, and glances through the open kitchenette door into the warehouse. Then, plate of toast in hand, he heads for the door.

It's a young woman, maybe a few years younger than him, with a messenger bag slung over one shoulder. She looks vaguely familiar, but only vaguely; he can't place her. She's glancing around in apparent unease, and fiddling with the bangle bracelet on her left wrist.

"Can I help you?" Jonathan asks politely - but with an automatic glance down at the direct sunlight where she's standing.

"Mr. Levinson? Yes. I'm Cia --" She pronounces it like chia. "I think I've seen you around the Academy before? I've got a message for you and Mr. Wells from the Council -- Mr. Giles and Ms. Summers didn't think it was safe to use regular channels."

"Oh. Okay." That's probably why she's vaguely familiar, he decides. Someone he's passed in the halls, more than once. "Andrew's sleeping, but I can take the message."

Cia reaches into her messenger bag, and hands him a file folder. "One of the Slayers recently paroled from farm duty has broken her parole and gone AWOL. Jordie Miller. You and Mr. Wells are being assigned to bring her back to face charges."

Jonathan stares at her for a moment, holding the folder, then sighs. "I guess we should have expected that from at least one of them. Kind of hoped they'd learned their lesson, though."

She glances away. "I don't know. There's some pretty bad feeling about this at the Academy. I've been hearing a lot of grumbling from the Slayers."

He frowns at that. "Again, not totally unexpected, but are they still complaining? We were pretty lenient on those girls for what they did."

Cia shrugs. "I'm just saying. A lot of them are seriously not happy with the Council right now." Her face is unreadable. "Saying she's been punished enough. And, you know, some of them still think she and the others were right and the Council shouldn't have charged them with anything to begin with."

"I know." His voice is grim, and maybe a touch angry. "Seems like a lot of them think we can't do anything right."

She doesn't say anything, but there's a look about her face: you said it, I didn't.

Jonathan's frown deepens, almost to a scowl, and he mutters, "I wish the Slayers could have a taste of being in charge. Without any Watchers' Council. Let them see how easy it isn't."

Cia looks up, and her face is mottled amber and deeply grooved in lines that don't match any human musculature, and she's grinning --


-- and all the lights go out.

When Jonathan's eyes adjust to the trickle of light coming through the suddenly boarded-up windows, the warehouse is empty and he's alone.

No; it's not just empty. It's bare, the floor thick with dust. Nobody's been here in years.

He's already realized what's going on, and he's cursing himself out in several non-human languages because they sound better. "Stupid stupid stupid, you never say 'I wish'!"

His voice echoes off the walls of the warehouse. Somewhere, more dust slithers to the floor; tiny motes swirl in the sunbeams coming through the cracks in the boarded-up windows, stirred by his movement. Faintly, the sound of not-too-distant traffic filters in.

He looks around, a little helplessly, not sure what to do next... but a good first thing would be to get out of this warehouse before it turns out to be home to something that doesn't like trespassers. He starts towards the main door.

The main door's locked. A chain rattles as he pushes. This warehouse isn't home to anything bigger than rats, apparently.

The lock and chain would be a problem, but Jonathan has more resources than just his physical strength, even without augmenting. He considers which spell to best use to get out with a minimum of physical destruction ... and then realizes he doesn't have any of his usual supplies.

Something that only takes words, then. And after that ... he'll start trying to look up some people, and pick up a few basic components in case he needs them. At least he's got his wallet in his pocket.

What he doesn't have -- and what he's really going to have to get first -- is a coat. It's cold out.
Sunday, January 9th, 2011
6:25 pm
It takes Jonathan some time to come all the way back to consciousness, vaguely puzzled at how little he hurts and not entirely sure where he is... until he tries to reach, instinctively, for his magic and can't get a grip on it.

That wakes him up sharply, only for him to forget all about it at the sight of the first face he lays eyes on, across the room.
Thursday, February 28th, 2008
9:47 pm
It's just recon, that's all. A simple job - just go hang out in the park across from the W&H building, and find out how bad the damage is in daylight.

It's a nice day. It's even quite enjoyable.
Tuesday, February 26th, 2008
9:39 am
Ask me what my pups think of yours!

They are:

Jonathan Levinson (jonathanparagon)
Richard Sharpe (and_far_away)
James Norrington (scourgeofpiracy)
Petrie (petriedino)
Nancy from Doctor Who (iamhismummy)
Michael Carpenter (ohholyknight)
Giovanni Bruni (aka_casanova)
Roshaun royal_guarantor)
Gavroche Thenardier-Riddle street_sparrow)
Harry Callahan (florallyminded)
Monday, December 24th, 2007
9:39 pm
Jonathan's frowning when he comes into the Bar, head bent over one of his older texts.

A brief glance up, and he heads for a table.
Sunday, July 15th, 2007
10:27 pm
Jonathan may be grinning just a bit as he comes into the room. Carlos' offer is the best news they've had in... a while, even with the strings attached.
Sunday, August 20th, 2006
4:55 pm
The cellphone rings once, twice. Pulling it from his pocket, he shoots Gunn an apologetic look and answers.


"Andrew? What's up?"

"It's... of course it is. Alcina knew so much..."

"With Gunn. He knows where Elie is - Angel's on his way."

"We're gonna go and take her on. You do your thing."

"Okay then."

"Thanks. You too."

He turns the cellphone off and turns to Gunn.

"Andrew knows where the heart is. Guess we're the diversion."
Monday, January 2nd, 2006
11:08 pm
They watch Connor walk away into the dark, through the rain. Neither of them speaks as they watch him go.

And then, at the same moment, both their cellphones chime with the incoming message tone.

"You have some explaining to do, gentlemen. Report back at your earliest convenience."


"We should get some sleep", Andrew says. "Long flight ahead of us, and we need to be rested when we get there."

Jonathan nods. "Right. Can't face the Council on no sleep."


They stop talking, then, and lean back to try to sleep, just as the seatbelt sign goes off.

Neither of them has much success.


On the other end, they stagger out of the airport terminal, to find the Council's car already waiting for them.

The driver's someone they know, someone they've worked with before. But all attempts at friendly conversation fall on stony ground.

The rest of the journey is completed in uncomfortable silence.
Thursday, October 27th, 2005
2:14 pm
Everything seems normal, when he wakes up.

For about five minutes, until he tries to open the bathroom door and his hand passes straight through.

And then he turns, and looks at the bed, and sees...

And then he screams.
Monday, August 1st, 2005
10:21 am
Here's my characters, both active and less so. They're all still in my head somewhere.

Adam Whiteley callmefelicia
Angelo Espinosa spectral_skin
Gavroche Thenardier street_sparrow
James Norrington scourgeofpiracy
Jonathan Levinson jonathanparagon
Liam Pace youalleverybody
Lucas coolhandlucas
Ludo rockfriend
Michael Guerin rebelheartalien
Petrefax lithargean
Petrie petriedino
Richard Sharpe and_far_away
Sheemie Ruiz pink_sombrera
Ted "Theodore" Logan wildstallynted
Ulfin ulfin_kingsman

Elsegame, for those of you who've ever played in TM, these two are now more or less inactive but may be revived at some future point:

Caleb the Preacher nobodys_daddy
The Marquis de Carabas favourpurveyor
Friday, May 13th, 2005
7:15 pm
Jonathan. On his bed, awake. Staring at the ceiling. Bored.
Sunday, February 6th, 2005
11:02 pm
It begins benignly, as many dreams do. Jonathan's walking though the halls of Sunnydale High, being jostled and ignored as he always was. This time he walks all the way to the bell tower, where the gun is waiting for him, cold and deadly in the corner. Buffy never comes. Instead, he takes aim and begins firing. People scream, clouds of blood puffing from their heads as their noises are stilled with his bullets. They sprawl on the ground, legs and arms splayed at strange angles. Cheerleaders, football players, the assholes who made fun of him every day of his entire life. He smiles. He is in control. They will never ignore him again.

But then the bodies begin to move. This is Sunnydale, after all.

They begin moving toward the tower, sightless, some of them, or headless. They begin to climb the tower, gore trailing behind them.

Warren is standing beside him now, but it's not Warren. It's the First. "Hey Sparky, looks like you're having fun now. I wonder if one of them has a knife? How do you like all the attention now?"

Then the scene fades and Jonathan is in the high school basement, a knife in his gut. It hurts, hurts so badly, and Andrew is smiling at him, nattering on about the latest rumors from the Star Wars spoiler website.

"Oh, does that hurt?" he says, and he twists the knife in the wound. "Don't worry, I can make it hurt worse."

Jonathan screams. He screams, but Andrew takes no notice. He just twists the blade a little more, ignoring Warren completely.

[ooc: all credit to Vivien]
Sunday, January 30th, 2005
3:36 pm
Jonathan is in his room, doing nothing in particular.
Wednesday, January 19th, 2005
7:46 pm
Jonathan is asleep.
Tuesday, December 28th, 2004
6:28 pm
Jonathan is in his room, playing with the games system Val gave him. He's been absorbed in it for quite some time.
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