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First Stanza - [Action & Voice]
[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.
[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.
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.
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C'mon, Spike. You said it yourself. Vampire. Slayer.
[speaking of spikes, her stake was already out of her jacket and firmly in one hand. If he was going to clear this up, it should probably be fast]
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Well, you've gone and decided to take the bit a little too seriously, have you? All work makes Faith a dull girl.
[If she wanted a fight, fine. He'd give her a fight. For all he knew, she had some reason to be pissed at him for reasons he wasn't aware of.]
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[Sorry, Spike. If she knew she was doing the deja vu dance, this wouldn't be happening. But...that was kind of the problem. Moving quickly, she aimed to close the gap between them, bringing down her hand with the spike to draw his guard while aiming another punch at his stomach.]
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He took the blow to the stomach. Sure, it hurt, but the advantage of a vampire constitution is that they can take more abuse than a Slayer can. It was all about allowing her to get the hits that matter, so he could respond with the ones that did.
He went for the stake instead, seizing her wrist with one hand, and then going for a punch towards the face with the other.
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I don't know. According to Buffy, this one sticks.
[She was going to feel that in the morning, but she'd taken worse, and letting him land the punch kept her close enough to try and sweep a leg behind his.]
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Well aren't you a revolving door of loyalties. I suppose I'll just have to do Buffy a favor and finally do you in good and proper.
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What's with you guys? Always full of promises. Sorry pal... I don't do vampires. That's Buffy's schtick.
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Of course you don't. Wouldn't do for you to have a man that could keep up with you. Then you might find out you're not all that.
[Time for a roundhouse kick towards her side.]
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She staggered with the force of it, dropping temporarily to one knee, her hand against the ground as she caught her balance]
Like you could keep up with me. In your dreams.
[Keeping her position, she shifted her weight onto her hand, sending out a low, sweeping kick. Fine. If she was gonna get knocked down, she'd just bring him to her level]
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You'd be the one slowing me down, Slayer. You don't quite stand up to the original.
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But if the words hit close to home, she's not showing it. The distance is enough to let her spring back to her feet and move in once more, fists flying]
And you're any better? [she tries to move in close enough to minimize his chance to block the punches she throws] Even if you stood a snowball's chance in hell, you'd still be sloppy seconds.
[like her.]
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I'm sure you're well past your sloppy seconds. Even before you settled for the Slayer sidekick.
[Sleeping with Xander. You can do better, Faith.]
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Don't be jealous, baby. I can still make your knees buckle.
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[Advantage of a vampire body. He may not be as strong as her, but he can absorb hits a lot better than she can. As long as he avoids that stake, it doesn't matter how many hits she lands on him. He just has to outlast her.
And this one's easy. That old mindset is coming back. Fighting a Slayer. She's craving death. And as satisfying as it might be to give it to her, he owed it to Buffy to spare her. And then figure out what was to be done with her.
He goes on the offensive. A right hook to her head, followed by a left. They're just distractions. A knee towards her side is his real goal. If successful, then he'll just keep them coming.]
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Before she can even begin to process what that means, he's attacking, and her mind is fully on the fight. She'd been expecting the blows, and she wards off the punches easily enough, but the distraction works as well as he'd hoped. The first knee to her side isn't enough to bring her down, but it hurts like hell, and the second is worse.
She curls instinctively, drawing in on the pain, and it switches something in her mind. She might not be trapped, but she knows what losing feels like...and losing to a vamp-
She didn't want to die.
She might have gone to Angel looking for an escape, but she'd moved past that. She'd made her choice to do it the hard way, crap and all, and damn it...she wasn't about to quit now.
Strategy was never really her strong point, but whatever skills she had in that area disappear now as she falls back on instinct. Rather than straightening, she barrels into Spike, head first, intent only on bringing him down with her]
You call your gothic nutjob standards? Sounds pretty low and loose, to me.
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Well dying here wasn't the plan. Not when he had things to sort out.]
Don't like competition in the crazy department, do you? Maybe we can get you padded rooms beside each other.
[He couldn't overpower her like this. So he tried to roll them both over. Put himself on top.]
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She hadn't really fought like this since showing up here, and she hadn't really expected how problematic wings could be in a fight like this. When he flips her to the ground, she can feel them protesting, muscles straining between her shoulder blades.]
I'm not crazy.
[Gritting her teeth, she wrestled an arm free to try and elbow him with it] I'm reformed.
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Were reformed. I liked you better when we weren't killing one another.
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[because the only time they'd met, she'd been wearing Buffy's body.
Right?
He might have one armed pinned, but she has two, and the rest of her wasn't staying still, either.
She wriggled beneath him, trying to get enough leverage to be able to buck him off, even as she swung her free fist at his face]
If you've got a problem, take it up with Buffy.
[...not that she thought she'd be giving him the chance to.]
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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.]
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[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.
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She couldn't bring herself to do it. She's let you live this long, hasn't she?
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[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.
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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.
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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]
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