She Saved The World

all the way with feeling

Sat, 10 Feb 2007 22:31:45 GMT

Between one thing and the other, Dawn parking with Mr "I Was A Teenage Vampire" and then this demon showing up... people dancing to cinders, she herself almost going the way of the dodo, 'Dawn's in trouble: must be Tuesday,' and no glib remark in the world could make her feel anything worse than what she felt every day; not even the look on Willow's face, like Buffy had just ripped her heart clean out of her chest and stamped on it with her three-inch heels, pierced it...
I touch the fire and it freezes me...
She sort of wished it had made her feel bad.
I look into it and it's black.
Buffy was pretty much not in the right state of mind when she kissed Spike. Sick of just feeling nothing, there were desperate measures to be taken, but afterwards...
This isn't real
Afterwards, she went home with her skin crawling. Afterwards, she crawled into her bed and didn't sleep; she just curled up with her insomnia, replaying the moment in her mind, a little sicker every minute she thought of it.
But I just wanna feel~
And, to a point, she's glad she can't feel anything, because if she could...

She'd feel like crying.

Life, Serial [part three]

Sat, 13 Jan 2007 17:12:55 GMT

You know how "The Song That Never Ends" is the most annoying song in the entire world just because it never ends (it just goes on and on, my friends)?

Imagine having a day like that. Like the episode of The X-Files where the bank keeps blowing up.

Except you're stuck in a Magic shop trying not to be strangled by/have your customer strangled by/kill a/stab a/cut the fingers off a mummy hand that doesn't want to be sold.

Imagine having a day like that.

And to top it off, Anya's a bitch but Buffy never calls her that. She just takes off her nametag (Hello, My Name Is [insert name here] Ask me about curses!] and by this point, Buffy knows a fair amount of curses that she'd like to use.

And her first instinct is to go to Spike, because Spike can't possibly make anything worse.

Besides which, he has alcohol. Spike always has alcohol. And she feels the need for it.

But she doesn't go to Spike. She means to go to Spike's, but it never quite works like that anymore.

Even if she doesn't know it, when she's out there.

It doesn't stop her ending up back in Milliways, though. And for that, she's kind of glad.

Life, Serial [part two]

Sat, 13 Jan 2007 16:35:35 GMT

Construction. Sure, she could do construction work. It's not like she was a weak little girl. She could lift and pour and build and smooth and work and...

Be called Britney. Princess.

God, sometimes she hated guys. Especially ones that just saw, 'short, blonde, no brains.'

She wasn't stupid. She just felt stupid after spending a class with Willow and her Big Brain.

But construction didn't require brains; not work like this, not grunt work.

And for the most part, though, it was going okay, until:

[The music continues as we cut to Buffy approaching a water cooler on the site. She leans over to take a cup.

She hears something and straightens up, looks around in confusion. The music continues and melds into the background music of the scene. Buffy shrugs, turns back to the cooler to fill her cup.]

Then there was Tony, and she was spilling water on herself, and then there was something worse. Something she was used to but most normal people weren't.

Demons. Demons at Xander's construction site. Demons that simply... melted.

"No. No, not here. Not at my job. That's your job."

"I can't help where the forces of darkness attack me, Xander."

And she was out of a job again. God, she couldn't even hold onto a temp gig. She'd been there a few hours, and nobody was willing to help her, willing to give her a chance, and not one of them willing to back her up after she'd saved their lives.

Even if they weren't willing to admit that she'd saved their lives.

Stupid guys.

So, to Giles she went. To The Magic Box.

Life, Serial [part one]

Sat, 13 Jan 2007 16:18:32 GMT

She thinks that she might have understood the class better if they'd used smaller words. Or if her brain was bigger. Or if she'd gone to something other than Sociology. Or perhaps if she'd just stayed at home to watch reruns of Oprah.

And then she's dropping her books, being barged into and there's this guy in a hurry and she's rolling her eyes, following Tara and then:

Whizz.

Pop.

"...until I realized that was her yummy face."

Just trying to keep up after that's a bit of a blur. In point of fact, most everything after that is a blur until:

Whizz.

Pop.

BANG.

and she finds refuge under a table, finds a little bit of... something attached to her shirt, and then-

poof

It's gone.

Just like that.

And that's just the beginning.

milliways_bar: flooded

Wed, 02 Aug 2006 05:26:31 GMT

She'd answered the phone, and left just as quickly. Picked up her jacket and left Giles and Dawn with the problems at home.

She had problems of her own; they could take care of it. She had to take care of her own.

To say that saying goodbye to Angel had been hard would be like saying Venice was watery. It would be an oversimplification, and one that Buffy could really be doing without.

To say that she didn't want to talk about it... was true. But again, Venice and water.

But he'd called her. And she'd went to meet him and he'd looked so greatful and thankful and scared that she was standing there in front of him in the clothes she'd been wearing when he'd called her... and she thought he'd never looked more handsome in that moment than any other moment she'd ever seen him.

They hadn't hugged. Hadn't kissed. But they'd talked, at great length, for a while.

And when it came to it, she couldn't tell him what she'd told Spike, because she didn't want him living with that knowledge either. He didn't deserve it. Couldn't let him into the circle after all.

She just couldn't tell him.

And it sort of broke her heart. At least she knew she had one.

milliways_bar: after life

Wed, 02 Aug 2006 04:11:28 GMT

The blood on her knuckles had dried, healed, gone away faster than she'd realised they would. Like she'd forgotten what it had been like to be the Slayer, to heal so fast.

In a way, it was good. The physical hurts were the simple kind. She knew how to deal with those; knew they'd go away. They used to go away so fast. And they went away again this time, like they'd never been there.

And then she was left with nothing inside; hollow and hurting at what she couldn't tell her friends. Even when they'd defeated the demon they'd created in bringing her back and even after she'd chopped off its head and thanked them all for bringing her back from that place of hell she'd been...
(think i was in heaven)
She was still alone. Still hurting.
(whisper in a dead man's ear)
It was so easy to tell Spike the truth.

(done it myself)

To bring someone into the little circle of her, because he's never been part of their circle. Never been a Scooby. Never been human enough; never quite a demon enough to kill him.
(but you treat me like a man)
But when she walks away from him, "They can never know. Never," she can leave him because she thinks she doesn't care.

(everything i feel, everything i touch ... this is hell.)

milliways_bar: feels like dying

Wed, 02 Aug 2006 01:43:22 GMT

It had been so simple: head upstairs after singing and dancing after coming back from New York when she started simply fading away...

Only she never woke up again.

At least, not in Milliways.

Waking up, Buffy found, felt so much like dying that the two could have been mistaken for one another. Only when you wake up, you're not supposed to be in cramped, confined spaces. Unless that's where you went to sleep.

But Buffy hadn't. Buffy had gone to sleep in a bed that looked like her bed in a room that looked like her room after watching a demon being turned into a chicken after spending days upon days feeling safe. She didn't know whatwhenwhy she was waking in a dark place. It was such a dark place she couldn't see immediately, but started fumbling. Cloth walls and cloth roof and cloth and shoes on her feet and the smell of earth in her nose and no voice to scream so she just fumbled.

Rip.

The cloth came away easily, but then there was wood. The wood broke, like she knew it was supposed to but she just didn't know why it was there; didn't know where she was and why she wasn't...

She didn't know where she was supposed to be, but this wasn't it. It wasn't this place with its dark and dank and buried under six feet of worms and mulch with leaves in her hair and no breath in her lungs.

When she reached the top, once she'd crawled out of her own grave, and she knew what it was before she'd even reached the surface; she's realised it somewhere between the first mouthful of dirt and the first mouthful of fresh air that that was where she was: that she'd been buried.

She remembered dying. It had been clear, and it had been shiny. But it had hurt.

Not afterwards. Not afterwards...

Everything else was mostly a Walking the streets in the dark, trying to get the blurring to leave her eyes but it wouldn't and trying to get her ears to hear without sounding like she was still underground, packed with cotton wool, packed in cotton wool. She sort of remembered seeing Xander and Anya, Willow and Tara and herself before the demons had pulled her apart and she'd finally found her voice and screamed before running.

Before they caught her and kicked at her, but she couldn't feel pain. She could feel the impact as she hit them. Feel the breaking bones and hear the grunts of pain (sounding like she was still underground, packed with cotton wool, packed in cotton wool) and when she saw the blood...

She'd ran. Ran where she last remembered really being. Remembered where it had been shiny and clear and she knew what she had to do. Ran to where she remembered saving everyone because that was what Slayers did. Wasn't it what she did, once upon a time?

And then there had been Dawn.
I have to, Dawnie...
"Buffy!"
Buffy~!
And she'd looked around, and there she'd been. But Dawn couldn't really be there, surely. Why would Dawn be up there? She'd saved Dawn. Died to save her. Done her job.
"Be Brave. Live. For me."
"It was so ... clear ... on this spot. I remember ... how ... shiny ... and clear everything was. But ... now ... now..."

She doesn't turn around, even when Dawn's eyes fill with tears that Buffy can somehow feel. Doesn't move until the tower shakes and there's fear in Dawn's voice. Fear of losing Buffy again, of thinking that she's going to jump and leave her again.

So she turns to her sister, to her blood-

(She's me. The monks made her out of me.)

And saves her again.

Just like a big sister (Slayer. Above all other things.) ought to do.

(Buffy? Buffy. You... you... you're really here.)

And when Dawn's sitting there on the asphalt in Buffy's arms with tears streaming down her cheeks-

(You're alive, and you're home. You're home.)

Buffy just feels...

Dead.

milliways_bar: ooc 'tell me what i'm doing wrong' meme

Thu, 27 Apr 2006 20:04:19 GMT

Okay, so - meme time! So as not to block up my own mun LJ with the meme (and the fact that said mun journal is all automatically fLocked and I dislike anything being un-fLocked...

My pups are Buffy (b_a_summers), David Talbot, (notsoyoung), and Sheila na Gig (sheila_nagig).

Janette (i_am_not_honey) and Lea (unseelie_girl) are rarely played, but are mine as well, and Armand (angelus_amadeo) is going to be retired very very soon, so include them if you wanna.

Tell me - think I'm playing them well? Something that's been bugging at you 'bout how I play 'em for a year and a day and you wanna tell me? Here's the space. Comments are not screened, but IP logging is off and anonymous posting is enabled.

Lay on, MacDuff.

(if anone complains about my bad use of Shakespeare, I reserve the right to bop 'em onna head with a BAGUETTE.)

Fri, 30 Dec 2005 01:32:03 GMT

She closes the door behind them both, leaning against it as he looks around the room.

"Privacy," she says, "it's a thing."

(OOC: There be the having of sexual relations in this post. Be careful, those that enter here. Do not be underage. All that yadda yadda.)

Fri, 11 Nov 2005 01:44:32 GMT

The world's ending around them. Hell Dimension below, a dragon flying from the portal, lightning cracking in the air.

Dawn tries to run past Buffy, but Buffy grabs her, gently

(It's Summers blood. It's just like mine.)

to stop her.

"What are you doing?"

Dawn looks

(terrified)

around. "I have to jump. The energy-"

"It'll kill you!"

Dawn nods, softly, and says, sotfly, "I know," as Buffy stares at her, "Buffy, I know about the ritual. I have to stop it."

"No." Not hard, exactly. But there's pain in it. Desperation, worry, fear.

The tower shakes underneath them, making them both stumble.

"I have to. Look at what's happening." More lightning sparks. "Buffy, you have to let me go. Blood starts it, and until the blood stops flowing, it'll never stop."

She can't help but stare at Dawn, at her baby sister, a pained look on her face.

"You know you have to let me. It has to have the blood," Dawn says, and Buffy realises then

(Cause it's always got to be blood.)

what has to happen.

(She's me. The monks made her out of me.)

Buffy frowns, and turns around slowly. Slowly.

The portal's opening in the sky, the world's ending around them. The sun's trying to rise, but it's having problems...

The sky's tearing apart around them.

And Dawn knows.

"Buffy... no!"

So does Buffy.

"Dawnie, I have to-" "NO!" "-Listen to me. Please, there's not a lot of time, listen."

She takes Dawn by the arms, even as she begins to cry. A soft

(strong)

hand strokes Dawn's cheek, and then soft

(strong)

lips. Strong

(soft)

words.

"Dawn, listen to me. Listen. I love you. I will *always* love you. But this is the work that I have to do. Tell Giles ... tell Giles I figured it out. And, and I'm okay. And give my love to my friends: you have to take care of them now; you have to take care of each other. You have to be strong."

Buffy's heart breaks as Dawn starts to cry again.

"Dawn, the hardest thing in this world ... is to live in it. Be brave. Live."

Lightning cracks.

"For me."

She doesn't see her friends, holding one another up, afterwards, when they find her body. She doesn't see Tara holding Willow; doesn't see Spike's bloodied face as he buries it in his hands. Doesn't see Giles as he starts to cry, or the way that Xander looks at her, like he'll never smile again.

(there was no pain)

She doesn't see when Dawn starts to cry, again, when she sees her sister lying on a pile of rubble, broken and bleeding, and looking peaceful.

(no fear, no doubt)

She doesn't see any of it... because she's not there any more.

She's... in a bar?