Summary: Xander dies. Xander lives. Xander cops a lot of flak.
Crossover: AD&D Forgotten Realms
Disclaimer: I own all! sounds of painful torture and lawyers barking itaiiiiii... I own nothing!
Feedback: Coin o' the Realm!
Pre-fic Comments:
Random encounters in FF7 are a pain in the ass. In NWN you can see them coming. In Final Fantasy 7, even though I'm covering ground that my team mates have /already/ covered, I encounter enemies? Somehow, a n00b idiot and a hacker are more stealthy than a trained SOLDIER? And the save system is the biggest flaw of the game -- I can't bring myself to play it, because then I'll HAVE to play the game until the developers decide I can stop and not before, and certainly not at my pace.
Spot the pizza company reference.
"Think of it as being similar to Slaying vampires, who also torture and kill," Giles said before Buffy could work herself up to a full blown rant.
"Meh," Buffy said dismissively, deciding to forget that part of the conversation.
"Hey, wanna go for burgers after school," Willow asked the obsidian skinned elf.
Xander winced slightly. "Sorry, but I kinda have this slight problem with light..."
"Don't tell me you're allergic to sunlight," Buffy demanded.
"Nope, just very blind when in it," Xander said.
Everyone stared at him, and he glared back out of habit.
"Well, we might be able to order pizza or something tonight," Giles offered.
"That's a go, then," Xander said. "I gotta go check on my roomie."
"Who're you rooming with," Willow asked curiously. "Are they nice?"
"Well, they're not really nice," Xander admitted. "And they didn't really want to room with me."
"Rude, much," Buffy asked.
"In my defence, she is a vampire," Xander continued.
"Okay, so this pizza party? It is /so/ on at your place now," decided Buffy.
"Right," Xander agreed. He wasn't particularly attached to the place, he could move easily. "It's at..."
Buffy knocked on the door. "I can /not/ believe that Xander's living in this warehouse. What happened, his parents kick him out?"
"As a matter of fact, yeah," Xander said, opening the small side door. "They kinda didn't recognise me -- easy mistake, I know, but hey."
The obsidian skinned drow was clad in blue jeans and a black tshirt saying 'Its hard work being this good!'. A baggy coat hung over that.
"This is my friend from my old school, Ford," Buffy said. "Ford, this is Xander."
Xander looked at the somewhat sombre youth.
"Hi," Ford said.
"You know, my guest isn't really up to visitors," Xander said.
"I figured we could watch movies at my place," Buffy shrugged.
"Okay," Xander said. "Hang on while I lock up."
"Your guest," Ford asked.
"She's kinda not all there, and she's too high on her meds to tell you anything other than that the stars think you're the second Messiah or whatever," Xander said.
He still considered it a feat that he hadn't skinned the stupid vampiress alive, hostage or no hostage.
"Got any weapons on you," Buffy asked Xander curiously.
"Weapons," Ford asked. "Like, guns and knives!"
"You would not /believe/ the gang problem we have here," Buffy said, rolling her eyes. "Ever heard of PCP?"
Ford nodded. "Isn't that the one that makes them like Norse Berserkers?"
"Whatever. Whatever it is, all the gangs here think it's better than sliced bread."
"Guys, if we could move on," Xander asked, patience fading.
"Sure, sure," Buffy said. "I wanna get there before the delivery boy from Hell arrives."
"Okay," Xander said, getting into the car. "What type of pizza?"
"Oh, Hawaiian and your basic meatlovers," Buffy said, as the tyres screeched in a smoking takeoff.
Ford was surprised that the SUV didn't take off vertically with that kind of acceleration, and said so.
"You jerk," Buffy said, punching him.
"Eyes! Road," Ford said, eyes wide. "I don't wanna die before my time!"
"Everybody dies," Xander said, with an acceptance of death bred of growing up in Drow society. "Some die of natural causes, others of violent death."
"Um, can we /not/ talk about the dead people, here," Buffy said, turning a corner.
Ford was one with the SUV door momentarily. Alak (also known as Xander) managed to look comfortable in the back seat, not moving a millimeter.
"What movies are we watching," Ford asked.
"Willow nagged me into renting some movie called 'Dungeons and Dragons'," Buffy said. "I bagged dibs on Legend of Drunken Master, and Giles got some movie that a friend of his recommended. 'Ghost in the Shell', or something."
Alak really hated his life at times like this. With the decades of life he'd spent in Menzoberranzan, he barely remembered how to cross the road, let alone what particular movies were like.
"Ooookay," Xander said. "As long as it's all free, it's all good."
Post-fic Comments:
Sorry that it's somewhat short.
Part Six
Summary: Xander dies. Xander lives. Xander cops a lot of flak.
Crossover: AD&D Forgotten Realms
Disclaimer: I own all! sounds of painful torture and lawyers barking itaiiiiii... I own nothing!
Feedback: Coin o' the Realm!
Pre-fic Comments:
Wait long enough, and you'll get a part on all of my fics. Hell, my mind is turning over a possible rewrite of that stupid-ass Trigun fusion I started.
Gaaaah, I keep thinking that Willow is a (souled, nonBTVS) vampire (Provoc). Tell me if I stuff up in this fic coz of that.
"I'll walk you home," Buffy said, stretching as the credits for 'Ghost in the Shell' rolled.
"I can't believe how much... flesh was shown on that movie," Willow said, a faint blush tinging her skin.
"Different culture, different standards," Xander said. As 'Alak', he was more than aware of that. The extreme-matriachal hierarchy of Drow society, for example, as opposed to the lightly-patriachal status of modern American society.
"I'll be fine getting home on my own," Ford demurred.
"But...," Buffy trailed off. "What if you get hurt?"
"By the gangs on PCP," Ford asked, sarcasm plain.
"Erm, yeah. They can be vicious here -- it's a whole different ball game to L.A."
"Xander here is going on home," Ford said, his voice taking on mock-jovial overtones.
"Okay," Xander said, seeing where this was going. "Let's go."
"Are you sure," Buffy asked. "I could drive--"
"NO," three voices said, all panicking.
"You know something," Ford said to Xander, once they had turned the corner.
"Me," Xander asked, arching a snow white eyebrow. Under the pale streetlights, his hair seemed to glow, and his obsidian skin seemed to melt away like shadows.
"Yes, you! You know about the vampires!"
"Okay," Alak said. "Talk."
"See," Ford said. "I knew you knew something! I was looking into your warehouse while Buffy knocked on your door -- the skinny chick is a vampiress, right? I need you to get her to turn me!"
"No, you don't," Xander said, hands remaining loose at his side but ready to retrieve one of his knives in a heartbeat. "Go back to Los Angeles, and continue living your drab, normal little surface-dweller life."
"You don't get it," Ford yelled. "I'm sick! I've got brain cancer! I've got maybe six months left, and by then what they bury won't even look like me. It'll be bald and shriveled and it'll smell bad. No, I'm not going out that way."
"Life. Isn't. Fair," Xander hissed, even as flashes of his new 'life' played before his mental eyes. Lessons for a male Drow were not gentle in the least. "Get used to it."
"Hell, you're not even human, you bastard," Ford retorted. "If you don't help me, I'll out you to the IRA, the FBI, the whole fucking government! When it's you throwing up in pain for twenty four hours, then you get to make your moralistic choices! Not before!"
Xander's face hardened, as his mask was brought forth. The mindset that had allowed him to assassinate dozens of targets for his House established itself. "One last chance, Fordham. Turn around and go home."
The other youth obstinately drew in a deep breath, then began to yell. "A FUCKING MONSTER IS--gggghh---"
Despite the high blood loss, Xander elected to slit the other's throat. "Pedophilic sorcerers, genocidal priestesses, would-be daemonical parasites, what next and why me!"
He pulled up the nearest manhole.
"Hey, Xander," Buffy waved the next morning to where Xander was sitting in the dark of the stacks, lights left turned off.
"Hiya, Buff," he waved back easily. "Ford got a cellphone call, something about a grandparent kicking it."
"Oh! That's so sad," Buffy winced. "Was it painful?"
"Didn't ask," Xander shrugged. "He barely felt it when he died, from what I could tell."
"Poor Ford," Buffy said. "I'll send him a card of condolence when school lets out..."
"Xander," Giles called out, "I've got those references to encounters with Drusilla in the Watchers' Diaries for you."
"Great," Xander said. "As soon as I've read up on her, I'll start with the interrogation, then dust her."
"Why not dust her right away," Buffy asked. "She's a vamp."
"She's a seer," Xander answered, "and she knows a lot."
"Well, good luck," Buffy said. "Those of us unlucky enough to still be recognised by Snyder have a French test."
"Good luck with that," Xander waved.
As she left, she could hear Xander argueing with her Watcher.
"Must you really write notes in that... language, Xander?"
"Hey! I've been using it, not English, for the last who knows how long!"