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]

Spike didn't much care to have his wings covered. It was uncomfortable. He also felt like it made his back look lumpy, but he had no way of really telling. Either way, he emerged in his typical too-cool-to-live sort of way. Strutting his on way through the store. He regarded Rogue as he passed her by.

"Decided to stick around, did you?"

[touchofrogue]

She glanced back at him, removing the shirt from where she'd been holding it up in front of her and stuffing it haphazardly in her bag. "I couldn't just leave without sayin' goodbye. That'd be rude."

Southern gentility just dripped from her tone. She was amused at herself, because the manner in which she was taught and the manner she so often conducts herself happen are so contrary. But she took an almost perverse satisfaction in following those rules Mystique and Destiny drilled into her - when she could pick and choose doing so. As if to say 'Look, I got something good out of it. You didn't just wreck me. Despite what you did, I am who I am, and I got something out of it too.'

Shirt safely tucked into her bag with her other finds, Rogue shrugged. "'sides, I thought I'd stick around ta make sure you were pointed in the right direction 'fore I got on with my night."

This entire thing had been so odd, compounded with Ororo's arrival and other recent Luceti developments that she felt the need for some stress relief. Maybe a nice brawl in the Battle Dome, or maybe she'd be a good girl and do a routine.

[deadpoet]

"Well aren't you the Good Samaritan. Comes with the superhero work, right? Help the helpless. Defend the weak. Help wayward arrivals find a proper pair of pants."

Sarcastic, but not condescending. He is, in his own way, grateful for the help. It just comes disguised in snark and mild derision. As it is, he heads towards the door. He has to collect a few other things before the night's over.

[touchofrogue]

Sarcasm was easier for Rogue to deal with than gratitude anyway. She had a crack about the relative benefits of finding him suitable pants on the tip of her tongue, but swallowed it back. After her recent experience with Marcus, she wasn't sure how much of the sassy side of her she actually wanted to let out. Sarcasm was so much more comfortable.

"You forgot walkin' grannies across the street. It's all part an' parcel of the whole spandex gig."

She fell into step behind him, but paused at the door. "So are we at the 'give directions' part of our evenin', or do ya still need a guided tour?"

[deadpoet]

"Well it's not exactly Time Square, is it? Can't be that hard to find the rest of the shops here, all lined up in a nice little circle. You could tell me where I'd find a pack of Morley. I could use a good smoke right now."

He stepped into the cool night air, glad to finally be good and properly dressed up again.

[touchofrogue]

"That would be the Item Shop," and at that, she moved to follow him out. Because she'd so much rather just go in and grab the pack of smokes for him than deal with any sort of mess he'd leave in the morning. "It's this way."

[deadpoet]

Well, she was right latched on to him, wasn't she? Even wanted to get some smokes with him. He felt a bit smug at that.

"Tour guide it is, then."

[touchofrogue]

"And over here we have the fountain," she said in her best approximation of a tour guide's tone. "It's a surprisingly popular destination for New Feather's and resident's returned from kidnappings. They often find themselves plopped right in it, regardless of weather or season."

[deadpoet]

Spike was amused. "So our captors are sadistic with a sense of humor. Promising combination, that."

[touchofrogue]

"Worse," dramatic pause. "They're bureaucrats."

[deadpoet]

"I always did hate those. Politicians and the like. Didn't even like them when I was evil."

[touchofrogue]

"They're a special kind of low," Rogue agreed.

It wasn't far at all from the Clothing Shop to the Item Store. They were probably halfway there by now.

[deadpoet]

There were comparisons to drawn, what with Wolfram and Hart and the Mayor of Sunnydale. He chose not to explore either of them. Verbally, anyway.

"So what's a girl like you out doing on a night like this anyway? I never fancied the X-Men as the midnight avengers type. Especially not dressed like that."

[touchofrogue]

A girl like you -- Rogue didn't bother holding back a huff of amusement. She wondered if he'd have the same assessment if he met her a few months ago. She'd certainly had enough creature of the night cracks for her Goth attire.

"The uniform's in the bag," she deadpanned. "An' a dress is just a dress."

A flirty, happy, yellow dress in this case - and at the moment, having it called it into question, she kind of missed her pleather miniskirt and corset combination. It was safer, somehow.

It doesn't change what's underneath.

And maybe that was something she had to test out for herself. Was being standoffish and defensive the only way to protect people from her skin? Was she still just as tough without the 'look at me crossways and die' demeanor?

"I felt like a walk."

[deadpoet]

He stepped up to the item shop, expecting to find it locked. Unless she opened it first, he might casually just snap it open.

"With a destination in mind? Seems like you might have someone you'd be intending to see."

[touchofrogue]

This was 'her' Item Shop, at least as much anything in Luceti was hers. She didn't have any clue about what he'd do to her door, but she didn't see any point in waiting for him to fumble around for the lights when she knew where everything was. She didn't mind stepping ahead of him, but she flattened her wings to her back as she did so.

Someone she'd been intending to see, huh?

"I hadn't made up my mind yet."

The door was unlocked. She entered and reached with easy familiarity to flip the light switch. Depending on how good his senses are, he could be able to tell that her scent has thoroughly saturated this place. She obviously spent a lot of time there.

"Probably would have ended up the same place I always do."

[deadpoet]

After he stepped inside, he began to pick up on that. It explained a thing or two, to be sure. But he also didn't see any reason to comment on it. Just start working out the layout for the most likely place to find some smokes.

"Wouldn't happen to be this place, would it?"

[touchofrogue]

She glanced back to him. Figured it out? Oh right - enhanced senses.

"Nah, I see enough of this place durin' the day." She started walking towards the 'General Store' area of the Item Shop.

And she didn't really offer more than that - she's not much of one for talking about herself.

"C'mon, it's this way."

[deadpoet]

"Rogue the retail girl. Do you wear a name badge during the day?"

Once he spotted he available cigarettes, he started searching out for his preferred type. It didn't take long. A few packs of Morley's to take with him.

[touchofrogue]

Despite the derisive statement and some sort of innate desire to prove herself cool and defend decision to take up running this place, Rogue's stubbornness exerted itself first. She didn't owe him an explanation. She did what she pleased, and if it pleased her to help out the village at large and prevent herself from losing her mind via boredom, that was none of his concern.

Her answer, therefore, was flippant, "Ya think it would help?"

[deadpoet]

"Oh, certainly. Name like Rogue? Completely unmemorable."

Sarcastic as he pleased. He found a silver Zippo lighter, his own personal one, and was pleased to see it still working. He snuffed it out again and pocketed it.

[touchofrogue]

"You'll hafta write it up an' put it in the suggestion box."

Protip: She didn't keep a suggestion box.

She watched him claim the lighter and glanced around the shop. "Anythin' else in here ya need help findin'?"

[deadpoet]

"Unless you keep the big, sharp, and pointy here? I think I've got what I need."

[touchofrogue]

...and then she became complicent in arming a vampire.

Welcome to Luceti.

"Unless you're talkin' 'bout a particularly long rake, you'll find that in the Smithy. It's on the way outta town, so I'll walk ya over. It might still be opened."

Because she was definitely feeling 'done' with the tour guide gig and she might have even decided on her opponents for the night. She was curious.

[deadpoet]

"Following along again, are you? Fair warning, love, I'm off to the bar after that."

Though there was nothing flattering about going to a bar with a human girl and then ordering a round of pig's blood with a side of otter.