First Stanza - [Action & Voice]

[deadpoet]

[Action, Locked to Willow]
[A few moments before Spike arrived, he and Illyria had just escaped most of the main action and a great big bloody dragon come out of nowhere. He'd lost track of Angel and Gunn. Wesley was dead. So now it was just the two of them. Until Spike suddenly came to the surface of the river, cursing as he suddenly started burning and then swimming back underwater again until he could hide under the shade of the bridge. A bloody tiny bridge. And here he was with only a pair of white pants, now failing to hide much of anything, as he ended up STUCK in this tiny shadow. There was a book in the sunlight that was just out of reach. As the day passed on, it continued to get further away from him as the sun shifted the shadows further and further away.

What bollocks.

He decided he'd just wait until the first person came across the bridge and get their attention. That ought to do it.]

[Action/Voice, Open To All]

[Well, Willow took him 'home'. And he rather decided he liked it. Of course, a vamp can't make himself good and comfy without the proper accouterments. So after taking a nice long shower in House Seven, perusing the kitchen, and no doubt making his new housies terrible uncomfortable, he makes his way out as soon as it's evening. In his New Feather pants at first, because what else was there? But his first stop is the clothing store and he's soon back into slimming back. And then it's off to pick out a fancy weapon, get some blood at Good Spirits, find some smokes, recollect his lighter, and then snoop around town because he knows a certain old flame is around here. Not you, Buffy.

Around midnight, he hits up the journal after finally recollecting it from beside the bridge.]

This is a nice little village you lot have here. Very cozy. Has a certain quality to it, you might say. Very Shyamalan-type setting. Too cheerful. Downright unsettling, if you ask me.

Anyway, who do I talk to for the big plan? I've done my sitting around already. Relaxing, sure. Not too fond of the wings. Too ironic for my taste. But I'm ready to go and find the wankers who locked us up in here and do something about it. Champion of the people, right here. Just point me in the right direction.

Comments

[deadpoet]

[He took the first to the face, but that was fine. A bit of a bloody cheek he could handle. And he was close to finally getting a hold of it. Even if he was finding it harder and harder to stay on top.]

I bloody well intend to. If there's anything left of you, she'll be very cross with you.

[Mockingly British. This would be a lot easier if he could just bite her. As it is, he finally assumes the Vamp Face. With this much effort, it's impossible not to.]

[want_take_have]

Cross with me?

[she punched him again, movements growing a bit more frantic when he vamped out on her. She needed out of this. Now.]

When you come back, I'm going to laugh when she stakes your scrawny ass all over again.

[deadpoet]

[Okay, now he was really wishing she'd stomp vamping him. It was getting very annoying, so he punched her instead of trying to restrain her.]

She couldn't bring herself to do it. She's let you live this long, hasn't she?

[want_take_have]

Maybe you missed the part where she tried to kill me. It didn't stick.

[The punch hurts, but it's what she needs to turn the tables. Bending her knees to plant her feet against the ground, she thrusts upward, hoping to toss him off of her with the force of the movement]

And she was willing to shishkabob Angel. Pretty sure one evil vamp isn't even gonna register.

[deadpoet]

[It succeeds and he curses himself for being reckless. He's on his back, but he quickly hops back to his feet. Defensive and ready for Round 2.]

So that's how you see us, is it? And here Angel liked you. Jokes on him, isn't it? Shame he went and wasted all the time on you.

[want_take_have]

[oh no you didn't. Her face darkens at that.]

Angel is twice the man you are. Three times, even, 'cause hey. He actually has a soul.

[scrambling back up onto her feet, her chin raises as she glares at him]

You're nothing compared to him.

[just Spike's luck. All the Slayers have a soft-spot for Angel]

[deadpoet]

Angel is a bloody ponce that managed to get all of LA sent to hell. And don't even start with that soul business. I've got one too, remember? And unlike him, I actually earned mine. I'm more than Angel ever will be.

[This would be a turning point for them if not for the fact comparing him to Angel was a good way to piss him off. Which is why Spike went for the nearest large object he could find, a fallen log, to try and swat her with.]

[want_take_have]

[lucky for her, large objects were kinda hard to miss, and she ducks it easily enough. She can feel the strain of their fight, the adrenaline-dulled aches and pains that were going to be a bitch tomorrow, but the distance lets her regroup enough that she actually scoffs at him]

Like hell you do. Don't tell me you actually expect me to believe that.

1/2

[deadpoet]

You seemed to believe it well enough before. In fact, you--

[There was a moment that, despite feeling compelled to rip her in half, that his better sense was getting the better of him.]

[deadpoet]

[Gone was the vamp face. And he dropped the log.]

Bloody hell. You don't remember a damn thing, do you?

[want_take_have]

Like I hell I don't. I remember plenty.

[but there was an edge of uncertainty that crept into the words. Two vampires with souls? Really? That was just bordering on unoriginal.

But Buffy was from well ahead of her, and Willow was...well, if not leaps ahead, at least a few baby steps.

So, skeptical as she is, she doesn't move in when he drops the log. She just watches him, wary.

[deadpoet]

So you remember the First Evil showing up, do you? The annoying preacher doing its bidding? And the bit where I sacrificed myself to save the world? Seeing as I managed to save your life with that one, I think I deserve a bit more than you trying to dust me.

[Willow doesn't even remember all of that, after all. So why not Faith?]

[want_take_have]

[...huh.

Well, that was starting to sound eerily in-line with what Buffy had told her. Minus Spike's involvement.

Her frown deepens a bit.]

Buffy mentioned-

[but confirming it only put her on unsteady ground, especially if Spike was lying. Except, he isn't trying to kill her anymore. Damn. She's starting to think she should have tried to get a few more details from Buffy about all those yet-to-comes]

So....what? I go to prison and everyone decides that white hats are the way to go?

[she shifted uneasily, not really ready to trust him...but her hands lower, no longer quite so defensive] Didn't realize I was such a trendsetter.

[deadpoet]

[He crossed his arms. Purposely making himself non threatening.]

For the record, I started on the path to reform before you did. If anything, the trendsetter is me.

[Or Angel. But like hell he was going to admit to that. However, this at least confirms she's already had her incident with Angel. Which means she's already done the bodyswap number as well. Useful information.]

So that's it then, is it? You got yourself locked up and nothing else.

[want_take_have]

Hey! Got myself locked up and stayed there, thanks. And bully for me, since no one's actually bothered to say it.

[deadpoet]

We don't tend to get a lot of credit for seeing the error of our ways. It's a thing with those heroic types, after all.

[want_take_have]

Which you are, now. Supposedly.

[her too. Go figure]

[deadpoet]

Well I didn't use this, did I?

[He reaches into his jacket and pulls out the stake he'd neglected to bring out for the battle.]

[want_take_have]

...I know things have supposedly changed...but me? Still not a vamp.

[not that it wouldn't kill her if he'd hit her heart, but still]

Shouldn't that count as kryptonite or something?

[deadpoet]

Well, funny thing about stakes? They're more deadly to you humans than they are us vampires. Besides. I have my own vampire I'm looking for.

[want_take_have]

Right. Drusilla.

Looks like you and me had the same idea.

[deadpoet]

Right. But she's my responsibility now.

[So Faith? You don't need to bother.]

[want_take_have]

...you gonna be able to handle her?

[deadpoet]

Handled you, didn't I?

[want_take_have]

[she bristles, but it's to her credit that she doesn't actually argue the point]

Yeah, well, you and me ain't exactly undead lovers, neither. Way I hear it, havin' a history is supposed to make you all sentimental and shit.