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[ At the crypt that Spike’s taken to calling his own and Jinx has affectionally named “the saddest place in the world”, she has helpfully decorated a blank, dilapidated wall with sprawling graffiti (including the claim, SPIKE’S PLACE, in her jagged scrawl, explosions, skulls, and a fanged version of her usual monkeys, to boot).
And on a card, left on whatever piece of cement he calls a table, she writes: ]
SEE YA AT PROM, FANGS.
[ Accompanied by a drawing of figures that are clearly them, dancing at said prom. Not asking him so much as telling but, hey, it’s affectionate. ]
And on a card, left on whatever piece of cement he calls a table, she writes: ]
SEE YA AT PROM, FANGS.
[ Accompanied by a drawing of figures that are clearly them, dancing at said prom. Not asking him so much as telling but, hey, it’s affectionate. ]
Most likely to break hearts! What a superlative. I have to assume there’s a story behind it, my friend.
[ The man who steps ( rudely! ) through the doors where Spike is convalescing after being
um, shot in the dick fr???
wears an arched, fae-like expression of distaste; wearing a crocheted top underneath flowy forest green, linen overalls, his hair seems brighter than ever. His eyes, even narrowed as they are, are unmistakably red — dark pupils narrowed, thin as an animal's in the sunlight. He's somewhere between masculine and feminine in shape, lines strong and smooth in eldritch perfection; a pretty face with full lips, flawless skin and dark kohl painted in Egyptian fashion.
He stands in the door's frame, raking his eyes over Spike's state and ruining whatever prettiness he has by declaring, imperiously: ] Was the honeymoon canceled, then?
um, shot in the dick fr???
wears an arched, fae-like expression of distaste; wearing a crocheted top underneath flowy forest green, linen overalls, his hair seems brighter than ever. His eyes, even narrowed as they are, are unmistakably red — dark pupils narrowed, thin as an animal's in the sunlight. He's somewhere between masculine and feminine in shape, lines strong and smooth in eldritch perfection; a pretty face with full lips, flawless skin and dark kohl painted in Egyptian fashion.
He stands in the door's frame, raking his eyes over Spike's state and ruining whatever prettiness he has by declaring, imperiously: ] Was the honeymoon canceled, then?
[ All things considered, this recovery isn't anywhere near as miserable as getting tossed around like a ragdoll by Armand. But getting shot in the dick is still getting shot in the dick, and Spike's inclined to lay low when half the manor is still out for his blood.
So he's in the crypt when Set finds him, propped up on his pillows in bed. Nat and her friends have cleared out, but he hasn't exactly gotten around to tidying since--more soda and chip bags lying around than usual, game consoles and DVDs out of place.
More notably, though, Spike's very naked. Bruises and cuts still healing on his face and torso, dark red sheets pulled low over his hips. He's holding a sad bag of frozen peas on top of the fabric over his groin, his other arm slung behind the pillow. ]
Very canceled.
[ Deadpan, as Set announces himself. Spike doesn't sit up properly, just shifts to get a better look at him, one brow arching. ]
You're the MILF, yeah?
So he's in the crypt when Set finds him, propped up on his pillows in bed. Nat and her friends have cleared out, but he hasn't exactly gotten around to tidying since--more soda and chip bags lying around than usual, game consoles and DVDs out of place.
More notably, though, Spike's very naked. Bruises and cuts still healing on his face and torso, dark red sheets pulled low over his hips. He's holding a sad bag of frozen peas on top of the fabric over his groin, his other arm slung behind the pillow. ]
Very canceled.
[ Deadpan, as Set announces himself. Spike doesn't sit up properly, just shifts to get a better look at him, one brow arching. ]
You're the MILF, yeah?
( it’s a couple days and one house fire later — following a deserved amount of irritation in spike’s direction, a generally well placed cold shoulder, and altogether being kind of a bitch in his direction. it’s also late, well into vampire slaying hours. )
are you awake?
are you awake?
[ Spike's out for a smoke after tent-hopping, because he's not suffering through his Sanji assignment and no one else seems to give a shit about sticking to theirs, either. ]
Nocturnal habits die hard. 'Course I'm awake.
Find some beasties in the woods that need slaying?
Nocturnal habits die hard. 'Course I'm awake.
Find some beasties in the woods that need slaying?
Not afraid to draw the ire of the mob, are you?
Can you tell me more about the chip in your mind? I realise I’ve been remiss in helping you with it — and learning more might help your Buffy as well.
[ His Buffy. He'll bask in that for just a minute, even if Spike knows she'd punch him in the face for it. ]
Can tell you as much as I know about it. Might get more specifics out of Buffy's GI Joe ex, since his military op were the ones who stuck it in me.
What're you helping Buffy with, then?
Can tell you as much as I know about it. Might get more specifics out of Buffy's GI Joe ex, since his military op were the ones who stuck it in me.
What're you helping Buffy with, then?
[ !! ]
Of course, Spike. You’ve my confidence, as ever.
Of course, Spike. You’ve my confidence, as ever.
okay. big ideas
PLAN ONE
break into the chapel. frame a wolf for the damages. release whatever sheppy is talking to in there (big scary demon? meow!), who hates broken rules so much, on the wolf that hopefully attacks me. win the game!!
PLAN TWO
prepare everyone who might be targeted. i’m thinking like — a needle, or something small to pin on a wolf’s sleeve. something they won’t notice, that won’t be obvious. fyi this plan sucks because it doesn’t save anyone, but it might give us a clue next round.
okay there are my plans. you can tell me they’re bad now.
PLAN ONE
break into the chapel. frame a wolf for the damages. release whatever sheppy is talking to in there (big scary demon? meow!), who hates broken rules so much, on the wolf that hopefully attacks me. win the game!!
PLAN TWO
prepare everyone who might be targeted. i’m thinking like — a needle, or something small to pin on a wolf’s sleeve. something they won’t notice, that won’t be obvious. fyi this plan sucks because it doesn’t save anyone, but it might give us a clue next round.
okay there are my plans. you can tell me they’re bad now.
Problem with plan two is that it hinges on our innocents playing pin the tail on the wolfie while they’re being beheaded or bisected.
And I don’t hate plan one, but I’m guessing it’d qualify for cheating. You see what happened to Jinx and that other girl—Shadyheart? Not the worst punishment an evil blood-cult could dish out, but you might just be stuck in cosplay for trying.
I’d give it a go with you, though. Better to do something than sit here with our thumbs up our bums ‘til next killing time.
And I don’t hate plan one, but I’m guessing it’d qualify for cheating. You see what happened to Jinx and that other girl—Shadyheart? Not the worst punishment an evil blood-cult could dish out, but you might just be stuck in cosplay for trying.
I’d give it a go with you, though. Better to do something than sit here with our thumbs up our bums ‘til next killing time.
( it's not like all of september goes anywhere, once the veil lifts. buffy fell into a habit with the ritual side of things, and it takes some getting used to — not wanting to bruise everything she touches, not looking over her shoulder expecting to see either spike or giles following closely behind. all that to say: closed doors are almost a novelty, now. she forgets to knock, and only realizes it's an issue when she sees spike, mid-change, shirt lifted over his head. )
Oh — sorry.
( she's not that apologetic, though, because it's not like it's something she hasn't seen before. still, she moves to step back and close the door, before frowning, eyes catching on spike's chest. )
What is that? ( she steps in, not reaching out to touch but tilting her head in morbid fascination, eyebrows knotted. deep scars lining the left side of his chest, red and angry. ) Spike ...?
Oh — sorry.
( she's not that apologetic, though, because it's not like it's something she hasn't seen before. still, she moves to step back and close the door, before frowning, eyes catching on spike's chest. )
What is that? ( she steps in, not reaching out to touch but tilting her head in morbid fascination, eyebrows knotted. deep scars lining the left side of his chest, red and angry. ) Spike ...?
[ It’s a relief, to be mostly lucid. Might be how fast it’s all moving, the game keeping him alert for Buffy’s sake.
It’s only when Spike’s alone that he slips, sometimes, staring too long at the shadows in a corner, an open door that stretches into a dark hallway, rooms full of ghosts. Buffy catches him tonight when he’s not-quite-sideways, blue eyes deer-startled as he tugs the shirt back down. Too late. ]
A relic. [ A hitch of a breath that doesn’t make it all the way to a laugh, one arm wrapping itself around his waist, the other hand clenched in the hem of his shirt as Spike looks at the floor, not at her. ] Broke it when I—crawled back out.
It’s only when Spike’s alone that he slips, sometimes, staring too long at the shadows in a corner, an open door that stretches into a dark hallway, rooms full of ghosts. Buffy catches him tonight when he’s not-quite-sideways, blue eyes deer-startled as he tugs the shirt back down. Too late. ]
A relic. [ A hitch of a breath that doesn’t make it all the way to a laugh, one arm wrapping itself around his waist, the other hand clenched in the hem of his shirt as Spike looks at the floor, not at her. ] Broke it when I—crawled back out.
Not a whole lot of details.
Told me about the woods, what you girls did there to survive. Had a different chat with someone anonymous on the network who talked about the woods, too. Told me she ate her best friend. Told me she'd started to like the killing, too.
Nat told me that anonymous girl was probably Shauna.
Told me about the woods, what you girls did there to survive. Had a different chat with someone anonymous on the network who talked about the woods, too. Told me she ate her best friend. Told me she'd started to like the killing, too.
Nat told me that anonymous girl was probably Shauna.
( sent sometime post revival, once she's got most of her head on straight. )
don't reply to this.
look. you don't have to protect me. and you don't have to feel bad about not protecting me. i'm kind of
i'm not good at being protected. i don't know how else to say it. only bad things only ever happen to me, and it's always been that way. it didn't start with the crash. i just
i'm a fuck up. right? dom killing me is probably the best thing that ever happened to me, and the best thing that ever happened to anyone who knew me. i don't think my mom would even notice if i never came home.
i killed my dad, did i tell you that? just on accident. just put a bullet in his head. so the bad doesn't just stick with me, it infects everyone around me. my mom hasn't even looked at me since then. in the woods? i tried to be good, i tried to lead them and be fair, and then i fucking killed coach because it felt kinder than letting him live. and because he asked me to.
and you died, too. that's three men i love who have all died. you wanted to protect me, even though you know it's pointless. i infected you too.
i just didn't want you to feel bad. you're never going to be able to protect me, because something terrible is always waiting to happen to me. it would've been better if i stayed dead. you know
in the wilderness, they chose me. i was supposed to die. i keep thinking it would've been so much fucking easier if i just had.
anyway, don't reply. and don't feel bad. and if you want to stay away to protect yourself, i get it. that's it.
love you.
don't reply to this.
look. you don't have to protect me. and you don't have to feel bad about not protecting me. i'm kind of
i'm not good at being protected. i don't know how else to say it. only bad things only ever happen to me, and it's always been that way. it didn't start with the crash. i just
i'm a fuck up. right? dom killing me is probably the best thing that ever happened to me, and the best thing that ever happened to anyone who knew me. i don't think my mom would even notice if i never came home.
i killed my dad, did i tell you that? just on accident. just put a bullet in his head. so the bad doesn't just stick with me, it infects everyone around me. my mom hasn't even looked at me since then. in the woods? i tried to be good, i tried to lead them and be fair, and then i fucking killed coach because it felt kinder than letting him live. and because he asked me to.
and you died, too. that's three men i love who have all died. you wanted to protect me, even though you know it's pointless. i infected you too.
i just didn't want you to feel bad. you're never going to be able to protect me, because something terrible is always waiting to happen to me. it would've been better if i stayed dead. you know
in the wilderness, they chose me. i was supposed to die. i keep thinking it would've been so much fucking easier if i just had.
anyway, don't reply. and don't feel bad. and if you want to stay away to protect yourself, i get it. that's it.
love you.
Sorry, pet. I'm shit at following directives.
I get it. Died three times now and one of these days I bet I'll stop kicking. And on that second one--
I chose it. Killed myself. Killed the version of me that slaughtered innocent people for a hundred years, just for the fun of it. Vampires don't have souls, you know. We don't feel a thing when we do what you did in the woods. What you did to your old man.
So I asked to get it back. Went through a funhouse mirror of people I've loved and people who've hurt me and picked the wrong doors, over and over, until I finally picked the right one and it was just me, there, in the end. Had to face myself. The self that felt it all, that regretted it, that knew every drop of pain he'd inflicted and knew what it would take to atone for it.
He killed me. And I crawled out of the dirt with my soul right back behind my ribs. And it made me want to die all over again.
So I know what it feels like, Nat. The torment of it. Hurting people you care about and even ones you don't. Not gonna tell you it gets better and not gonna tell you to stop wanting it to end. I want it to end, too.
But I'm not going anywhere. You've still got me. I'm here with you.
I get it. Died three times now and one of these days I bet I'll stop kicking. And on that second one--
I chose it. Killed myself. Killed the version of me that slaughtered innocent people for a hundred years, just for the fun of it. Vampires don't have souls, you know. We don't feel a thing when we do what you did in the woods. What you did to your old man.
So I asked to get it back. Went through a funhouse mirror of people I've loved and people who've hurt me and picked the wrong doors, over and over, until I finally picked the right one and it was just me, there, in the end. Had to face myself. The self that felt it all, that regretted it, that knew every drop of pain he'd inflicted and knew what it would take to atone for it.
He killed me. And I crawled out of the dirt with my soul right back behind my ribs. And it made me want to die all over again.
So I know what it feels like, Nat. The torment of it. Hurting people you care about and even ones you don't. Not gonna tell you it gets better and not gonna tell you to stop wanting it to end. I want it to end, too.
But I'm not going anywhere. You've still got me. I'm here with you.
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