Title: Vanilla Suicide
Author: Juliet DeMarcus
Rating: R
Spoilers: Buffy up to and including "Entropy." Angel up to and including "Double or Nothing."
Summary: Will the events of "Entropy" lead to a tragedy of near-Shakespearean proportions?
Disclaimer: "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" and "Angel" are not mine. (But I can dream, right?) I'm not making any money, so don't sue me.
I had to give myself credit. It wasn't often my poncy musings did anything other than disgust me when I was unfortunate enough to read over them. But this time, as I looked down at the words, still freshly written on the page, I didn't feel disgust...I felt... inspiration.
I felt a kind of liberation as the idea seized me and for the first time since I'd first set foot in this town...no, for the first time in...God only knows how long, I felt that painful motion of the phantom heart-beat that's forever within me still. I knew peace.
It was an odd sensation. For the first time I really thought about it, and realized, I'd almost never known peace.
Only when I was a child did I ever know it at all, and even then it was fleeting. The fleeting innocence of a young boy's youth.
But this wouldn't be fleeting.
Maybe it was because I was drunk. As drunk as a vampire can get, I suppose. The poetry had just come.
I usually fought the instinct to write. Especially since the chip and, subsequently, Buffy... Before that, I didn't mind it so much. Couldn't bloody tell what the words meant if you read any of my earlier stuff, from my vampire days that is. Sure, you could tell it was about murder and mayhem, but beyond that, the meanings were illusive, known only to me. And maybe Dru,...she always did know me too well for my own good anyway.
But back then, mostly, I wrote about death. About causing it. About the fascination of it. About the blood that ran like the finest wine, about snapping necks, about terrorizing continents. Hey, what do you want from me? I was a master vampire! A slayer of slayers! I knew my place in the world...and I enjoyed it.
I'd like to say that's all the poetry I've kept over the years. Those from my days as part of the infamous "scourge of Europe," from my days with Dru...but unfortunately, this is not the case. I'd also kept all the writings from my days as that poof William, as well. Though I could never quite suss out why. I never looked at them. Bloody hell, I'd most likely vomit up my breakfast, lunch and dinner if I had. Ridiculous William, with the spectacles, the unruly mop of light brown hair, and the broken heart.
Forever the broken heart...
That's something people must be sodding born with. Cause it's always been with me. No matter how bloody hard I tried to be worthy of something more, I always ended up with the same thing...an empty, broken heart.
Sometimes,...I wonder if I've ever been loved by a single person that's known me.
Oh bloody hell! Tears again, William? ... you stupid git! Haven't you learned that tears do nothing!? No one cares if you cry. Cry like a bleedin' baby...isn't that what father always said? 'William always cries like a bleedin' baby'... 'he needs to grow up' ... I never grew up, you pillock! Or he didn't. William. Ponce.
It's always William! William that turned me soft when Buffy was sitting there on the steps of her back porch. William who asked "Is there anything I can do?," when he should've just blown her bloody head off! Be done with it then. The bint was right when she said I was in love with pain. Might be the only sodding thing she was ever right about when it came to me, but she had that one damn straight!
Well, buggar off William! ... Better run bloody fast too 'cause you're gonna get yours this time. I'm finally going to be rid of you and your pain and your tears! Your incessant bloody awful poetry. God, how I've hated you! I've hated you for so long... I wonder why I haven't thought of this before...
The hands always know before the mind. At least, that's how it's always been in my case. I could see that now as I looked down at the paper I held. As I saw that I knew the solution even before I'd realized it. Just like I loved her before I realized it. It was all just a means to an end...
TBC...
Author: Juliet DeMarcus
Rating: R
Spoilers: Buffy up to and including "Entropy." Angel up to and including "Double or Nothing."
Summary: Will the events of "Entropy" lead to a tragedy of near-Shakespearean proportions?
Disclaimer: "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" and "Angel" are not mine. (But I can dream, right?) I'm not making any money, so don't sue me.
I had to give myself credit. It wasn't often my poncy musings did anything other than disgust me when I was unfortunate enough to read over them. But this time, as I looked down at the words, still freshly written on the page, I didn't feel disgust...I felt... inspiration.
I felt a kind of liberation as the idea seized me and for the first time since I'd first set foot in this town...no, for the first time in...God only knows how long, I felt that painful motion of the phantom heart-beat that's forever within me still. I knew peace.
It was an odd sensation. For the first time I really thought about it, and realized, I'd almost never known peace.
Only when I was a child did I ever know it at all, and even then it was fleeting. The fleeting innocence of a young boy's youth.
But this wouldn't be fleeting.
Maybe it was because I was drunk. As drunk as a vampire can get, I suppose. The poetry had just come.
I usually fought the instinct to write. Especially since the chip and, subsequently, Buffy... Before that, I didn't mind it so much. Couldn't bloody tell what the words meant if you read any of my earlier stuff, from my vampire days that is. Sure, you could tell it was about murder and mayhem, but beyond that, the meanings were illusive, known only to me. And maybe Dru,...she always did know me too well for my own good anyway.
But back then, mostly, I wrote about death. About causing it. About the fascination of it. About the blood that ran like the finest wine, about snapping necks, about terrorizing continents. Hey, what do you want from me? I was a master vampire! A slayer of slayers! I knew my place in the world...and I enjoyed it.
I'd like to say that's all the poetry I've kept over the years. Those from my days as part of the infamous "scourge of Europe," from my days with Dru...but unfortunately, this is not the case. I'd also kept all the writings from my days as that poof William, as well. Though I could never quite suss out why. I never looked at them. Bloody hell, I'd most likely vomit up my breakfast, lunch and dinner if I had. Ridiculous William, with the spectacles, the unruly mop of light brown hair, and the broken heart.
Forever the broken heart...
That's something people must be sodding born with. Cause it's always been with me. No matter how bloody hard I tried to be worthy of something more, I always ended up with the same thing...an empty, broken heart.
Sometimes,...I wonder if I've ever been loved by a single person that's known me.
Oh bloody hell! Tears again, William? ... you stupid git! Haven't you learned that tears do nothing!? No one cares if you cry. Cry like a bleedin' baby...isn't that what father always said? 'William always cries like a bleedin' baby'... 'he needs to grow up' ... I never grew up, you pillock! Or he didn't. William. Ponce.
It's always William! William that turned me soft when Buffy was sitting there on the steps of her back porch. William who asked "Is there anything I can do?," when he should've just blown her bloody head off! Be done with it then. The bint was right when she said I was in love with pain. Might be the only sodding thing she was ever right about when it came to me, but she had that one damn straight!
Well, buggar off William! ... Better run bloody fast too 'cause you're gonna get yours this time. I'm finally going to be rid of you and your pain and your tears! Your incessant bloody awful poetry. God, how I've hated you! I've hated you for so long... I wonder why I haven't thought of this before...
The hands always know before the mind. At least, that's how it's always been in my case. I could see that now as I looked down at the paper I held. As I saw that I knew the solution even before I'd realized it. Just like I loved her before I realized it. It was all just a means to an end...
TBC...
