AN: This is just to reassure anyone who cares that, yes, I am still alive,
and no, I haven't lost the use of my hands. This is what was planned from
the beginning, I just got sidetracked. Sorry if it's not what was expected.
I wish I could promise another update soon, but I'm currently doing my
GCSEs and moving house, so things are becoming rather hectic.
Cordelia-
It was a pretty normal day, until he came. I had never expected to see him again, had though they'd forgotten about us entirely. Even more of a shock than seeing him was seeing that he was as hurt as the rest of us. He only had one horn left, there was a plate missing from his chest, and let's see...oh yeah, he's only got one arm. I mean, Angel said he'd beaten him up to get to Billy, but this was different.The sentries are going to get an earful. He should not have been able to just show up in the middle of us. "Oh, it's the multiverse's most unhelpful demon guide. What is it this time?" "Good to see you too. Mind telling the nice people who I am before someone attacks me?" "Maybe we should," I say, and if he hasn't got anything useful to tell us I'll be the first in line. "I'm here to help," Skip claims. Wesley laughs bitterly. "We appreciate the gesture. But in this case, "Better late than never" is nonsense." Several of the demons have already changed faces, and there's the clearly audible sound of several sharp objects being sharpened. Skip raises his hands defensively. "I'm a servant of the Powers That Be," he proclaims loudly. Wow, he really has been out of touch. Several people look murderous now instead of wary. But I guess there is a chance he could help us, so I get up and walk towards him. "This is Skip. He's okay," I say, and look meaningfully at the door and most of them leave, the ones who're only here because they think there's safety in numbers. "What the Hell do you think you're doing here? Now? Two years ago we could have used your help. Maybe even one year ago. Why, so you can tell us exactly how we screwed up before we die?" "I told you," he says stubbornly, "I'm here to help." "When you say help," Willow interrupts, "do you mean help in the way the rest of us are helping, or help in a way that will make a difference in a few years time?" "Door number two," he says, and there's a bit of smugness in his voice. "How?" Wesley asks. Skip nods over at Connor, who gets that look on his face. You know, the wide-eyed one that makes him look about twelve. Haven't seen it in a long while. "What have I got to with this?" "Uh, excuse me? Four thousand year old prophecy? Child of two vampires? This ringing any bells? You're a failsafe." "A what?" "Possibly you should tell us what precisely you want us to do. Bearing in mind that we haven't agreed to do anything," Wesley says, trying to get things back on track before I have to say something like "I think it's to do with computers. Or not. Ask Willow." "Right. Yeah," says Skip, getting a hold of himself. "Well, you have to go back to before things went wrong, and make them happen the way they were supposed to." The Powers suck, you know that? "Great. Just great. And do have a time machine handy? Or is your plan for us to invent one?" I say. It's kinda surprising just how much emotion can register on a face like that. He's definitely exasperated with a touch of impatience and maybe just a little sympathy. "Yeah. We know where to get one. Something that'll work as one." Now I'm shaken. They actually have a real plan. "Okay then," Willow says, her voice slurring slightly. "Where is it?" "It's right here," he says, and holds out a tacky vase. Then his eyes widen. "Shit!" Hurry up, he's coming!" "Who's coming?" Wesley demands. "Agent Smith. Who do you think is coming?" he shouts. "Smash it!" Connor looks at me. "Can I just-," he says, and then the wall disintegrates. The Beast is standing there with his lieutenants, the vampires Trakthk and Illyria, spines erupting from their rock-like carapaces, and whatever Ethan Rayne's become. Ethan raises his hands and green fire spreads across his arms, the vampires leap onto the ceiling, and the Beast flies towards us, something like fear twisting its scarred features. Connor breaks the urn, and-
Connor-
The sky flickers from one shade to another, often earthly but not always. Walls of plaster and wood and rock appear and fade into each other or away, leaving barren desert or city or forest or tossing ocean. As I walk towards the figure the changes become more erratic, sometimes taking place so quickly there isn't time to take in the new surroundings, sometimes staying for a few seconds. When I'm very close, an old female demon stays long enough to give me a business-like nod, while younger demons look sombre or angry and the smallest ones look on in confusion and fear, and then I'm before the figure, which changes from human to demonic visage, from young to old, and then my hands are around its neck, and it no longer changes but is one. And that neck is at once young and muscular and withered with saggy skin, bone-dry and flaking and wet with blood and sweat and less identifiable substances, and my hands twist and the neck breaks and with a snap the demon dies in all possibilities, and the world goes black.
Buffy-
"Hello? Is there some reason you're standing in the way?" I ask. He stops staring past me at Cordelia's retreating back and grins broadly. "Hi. You look really different. I barely recognised you." Oh God. Who is he? How can you forget having met someone with a massive scar across half his face? I have no memory of this person. "Oh yeah. It's... you! Gosh, I didn't recognise you myself at first. How have you been?" He looks kinda confused. "We've never met." Ooookaaay. "Uh. Never mind," he continues. "I have to talk to you." "Technically, I think you've just been doing that." "No." He looks around at the people walking by, who are taking zero interest in us. "In private." "You're some creepy senior who gets kicks out of freaking out sophomores, right? I'm going nowhere with you." "You don't want anyone else to know what I need to talk about." "Start talking about it, then I'll decide." "It's about the Harvest." "What? That's like a, dance or something right? The Harvest Dance? Hell no." Freak much? I duck under his blocking arm and walk off fast. Cordelia may be scarily shallow, but I'm not messing up my social life by talking to freaks like that. After a little while I hear him turn and start hurrying after me. He's quiet, as quiet as-Don't go there. His head bends around to be level with my ear, and I tense. He murmurs, "It's an ancient vampire ritual. The Master's going to get power from one of his followers and break free." No. No no no. I am not getting dragged back into this. I push him into a locker, harder than I meant to, and he's thin enough that I can feel his ribs under my hands when I do it. "Shut up. That's not what I do. Not again." He seems to flow away from the locker, unfazed despite the fact that his shoulder hit hard enough to dent the door. "You can't run away from this. They'll draw you back in, all of them." "No! I'm... I'm not going to listen to this. I'm just going to go to the library, and get my books, and no one is going to bother about this again. Now go away before I come out of retirement one last time." I walk off and hate the fact that I'm dong it so fast, but when I turn the corner and check to see if he's following he's gone.
Cordelia-
It was a pretty normal day, until he came. I had never expected to see him again, had though they'd forgotten about us entirely. Even more of a shock than seeing him was seeing that he was as hurt as the rest of us. He only had one horn left, there was a plate missing from his chest, and let's see...oh yeah, he's only got one arm. I mean, Angel said he'd beaten him up to get to Billy, but this was different.The sentries are going to get an earful. He should not have been able to just show up in the middle of us. "Oh, it's the multiverse's most unhelpful demon guide. What is it this time?" "Good to see you too. Mind telling the nice people who I am before someone attacks me?" "Maybe we should," I say, and if he hasn't got anything useful to tell us I'll be the first in line. "I'm here to help," Skip claims. Wesley laughs bitterly. "We appreciate the gesture. But in this case, "Better late than never" is nonsense." Several of the demons have already changed faces, and there's the clearly audible sound of several sharp objects being sharpened. Skip raises his hands defensively. "I'm a servant of the Powers That Be," he proclaims loudly. Wow, he really has been out of touch. Several people look murderous now instead of wary. But I guess there is a chance he could help us, so I get up and walk towards him. "This is Skip. He's okay," I say, and look meaningfully at the door and most of them leave, the ones who're only here because they think there's safety in numbers. "What the Hell do you think you're doing here? Now? Two years ago we could have used your help. Maybe even one year ago. Why, so you can tell us exactly how we screwed up before we die?" "I told you," he says stubbornly, "I'm here to help." "When you say help," Willow interrupts, "do you mean help in the way the rest of us are helping, or help in a way that will make a difference in a few years time?" "Door number two," he says, and there's a bit of smugness in his voice. "How?" Wesley asks. Skip nods over at Connor, who gets that look on his face. You know, the wide-eyed one that makes him look about twelve. Haven't seen it in a long while. "What have I got to with this?" "Uh, excuse me? Four thousand year old prophecy? Child of two vampires? This ringing any bells? You're a failsafe." "A what?" "Possibly you should tell us what precisely you want us to do. Bearing in mind that we haven't agreed to do anything," Wesley says, trying to get things back on track before I have to say something like "I think it's to do with computers. Or not. Ask Willow." "Right. Yeah," says Skip, getting a hold of himself. "Well, you have to go back to before things went wrong, and make them happen the way they were supposed to." The Powers suck, you know that? "Great. Just great. And do have a time machine handy? Or is your plan for us to invent one?" I say. It's kinda surprising just how much emotion can register on a face like that. He's definitely exasperated with a touch of impatience and maybe just a little sympathy. "Yeah. We know where to get one. Something that'll work as one." Now I'm shaken. They actually have a real plan. "Okay then," Willow says, her voice slurring slightly. "Where is it?" "It's right here," he says, and holds out a tacky vase. Then his eyes widen. "Shit!" Hurry up, he's coming!" "Who's coming?" Wesley demands. "Agent Smith. Who do you think is coming?" he shouts. "Smash it!" Connor looks at me. "Can I just-," he says, and then the wall disintegrates. The Beast is standing there with his lieutenants, the vampires Trakthk and Illyria, spines erupting from their rock-like carapaces, and whatever Ethan Rayne's become. Ethan raises his hands and green fire spreads across his arms, the vampires leap onto the ceiling, and the Beast flies towards us, something like fear twisting its scarred features. Connor breaks the urn, and-
Connor-
The sky flickers from one shade to another, often earthly but not always. Walls of plaster and wood and rock appear and fade into each other or away, leaving barren desert or city or forest or tossing ocean. As I walk towards the figure the changes become more erratic, sometimes taking place so quickly there isn't time to take in the new surroundings, sometimes staying for a few seconds. When I'm very close, an old female demon stays long enough to give me a business-like nod, while younger demons look sombre or angry and the smallest ones look on in confusion and fear, and then I'm before the figure, which changes from human to demonic visage, from young to old, and then my hands are around its neck, and it no longer changes but is one. And that neck is at once young and muscular and withered with saggy skin, bone-dry and flaking and wet with blood and sweat and less identifiable substances, and my hands twist and the neck breaks and with a snap the demon dies in all possibilities, and the world goes black.
Buffy-
"Hello? Is there some reason you're standing in the way?" I ask. He stops staring past me at Cordelia's retreating back and grins broadly. "Hi. You look really different. I barely recognised you." Oh God. Who is he? How can you forget having met someone with a massive scar across half his face? I have no memory of this person. "Oh yeah. It's... you! Gosh, I didn't recognise you myself at first. How have you been?" He looks kinda confused. "We've never met." Ooookaaay. "Uh. Never mind," he continues. "I have to talk to you." "Technically, I think you've just been doing that." "No." He looks around at the people walking by, who are taking zero interest in us. "In private." "You're some creepy senior who gets kicks out of freaking out sophomores, right? I'm going nowhere with you." "You don't want anyone else to know what I need to talk about." "Start talking about it, then I'll decide." "It's about the Harvest." "What? That's like a, dance or something right? The Harvest Dance? Hell no." Freak much? I duck under his blocking arm and walk off fast. Cordelia may be scarily shallow, but I'm not messing up my social life by talking to freaks like that. After a little while I hear him turn and start hurrying after me. He's quiet, as quiet as-Don't go there. His head bends around to be level with my ear, and I tense. He murmurs, "It's an ancient vampire ritual. The Master's going to get power from one of his followers and break free." No. No no no. I am not getting dragged back into this. I push him into a locker, harder than I meant to, and he's thin enough that I can feel his ribs under my hands when I do it. "Shut up. That's not what I do. Not again." He seems to flow away from the locker, unfazed despite the fact that his shoulder hit hard enough to dent the door. "You can't run away from this. They'll draw you back in, all of them." "No! I'm... I'm not going to listen to this. I'm just going to go to the library, and get my books, and no one is going to bother about this again. Now go away before I come out of retirement one last time." I walk off and hate the fact that I'm dong it so fast, but when I turn the corner and check to see if he's following he's gone.