008 [The Coming Dawn]

[a-pretty-fire.livejournal.com]

[Drusilla's eyes are wide when she steps on to the Plane. They have a slightly glazed look to them, as if she's been gazing for too long at something too far away.

(Which is exactly what she has been doing, of course. It's been hard for her to see lately, terribly hard. The future is all in a tangle. She can't tell where the threads are leading, or which one she's supposed to take, and this is the first little glimpse she's had in a very long while. It's frightening, setting your feet down when you can't see the path properly. It makes her stomach twist up into knots.)]

Dawn is coming. The skies will part and the whole world will be swallowed up in light all over again.

[She touches her temple, her eyelids flickering shut for a second.]

I shall have to find a new set of shadows to hide in.

[The man she usually hides behind, her Spike, is being drawn away from her. The pull of the Slayer is getting stronger. Drusilla can feel it. She'll have to cling tight to her deadly boy. She'll have to dig in her little claws.]

OOC: I'm a big fan of keeping things logical and ordered, so Drusilla - who has already made her way through series four - is going to move on to series five of Buffy. This is set just after the episode 'Buffy versus Dracula'.

Comments

[a-pretty-fire.livejournal.com]

Oh, not me. Never me. [Liar liar. Can he see her, burning away?] Do you?

[savagestime.livejournal.com]

There's a riddle. What do you think? Unless you've lost the trace.

[a-pretty-fire.livejournal.com]

It aways gets tangled up when I come here. And you were never in it in the first place.

[savagestime.livejournal.com]

So you do have off days.

[a-pretty-fire.livejournal.com]

On and off. You can't flick the switch. I'm not a machine. I don't pick what I see. It's just there in my head.

[savagestime.livejournal.com]

Machines don't pick either. Neither do toys.

[a-pretty-fire.livejournal.com]

The people using them pick. Tapping away, pulling away, pushing away. That's how the machines work.

[savagestime.livejournal.com]

So what names can you give to what's using you?

[a-pretty-fire.livejournal.com]

I don't think they have names, the pixies. It might have been the Powers That Be, once, but I'm broken now. They don't want us, do they, Miss Edith?

[savagestime.livejournal.com]

And how did you break?

[a-pretty-fire.livejournal.com]

Oh, Daddy did it. It was a long time ago.

[savagestime.livejournal.com]

That's the problem with fathers: they can't be trusted with their kids. I never liked to have one, myself.

[a-pretty-fire.livejournal.com]

You never had a Daddy? Who made you?

[savagestime.livejournal.com]

It's best we don't get into that. [mainly because of how special and contradictory canon is!] Who made you to create a thing like this?

[a-pretty-fire.livejournal.com]

The stork. He carried me all the way to London in a little wicker basket, but he dropped me and I floated off into the rushes. Daddy hooked me out and I lost my dolly. He promised me a new one.