whattingawhat | 47th Slay [Accidental Video]

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47th Slay [Accidental Video]

[The device is sitting on a table behind Buffy. When it comes on, it shows Buffy standing in front of a mirror. She runs a brush through her hair then her fingers before she looks up into the mirror. She startles at seeing her reflection, but doesn't scream then takes a step back. Hovering there above (or perhaps beneath) her reflection is a ghost of how she looked before Willow pulled her out of the grave, half decomposed. She turns to see the device on, still looking shaken and pale.]

So...curse day, right? Otherwise there's going to be some mirror breaking in my house and I seriously don't need any more years of bad luck. Or maybe if you break a creepy mirror it goes the other way. Seven years of good luck.

Fingers crossed.

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Okay. Hold on a sec. I'll come down there.

[And a pause because really she doesn't know Barrons well enough to just barge into his room.]

If that's okay?

[He offers a slow nod and a cocky grin.] Of course. Step into my parlor.

[She points her finger at him playfully.] That's it. I'm bring my fly swatter and spider stomping heels with me.

[She heads on down the stairs barefoot, moving fairly silently but she knocks on the wall next to the steps as she walks on into the basement.]

I'm here to check your mirrors.

[He hears and smells her coming before she actually knocks and comes in. Which he knows she would find odd if she knew. Most people do. He turns to give her a courtly nod / half-bow in greeting and gestures toward the open closet door mirror.]

I'm afraid it is nothing spectacular as far as mirrors go. [His gaze dips down to her feet.] Also, you forgot your heels.

[Actually, she wouldn't. In fact she'd probably find it comforting. It's part and parcel of dating a vampire. The nod/bow makes her smile though. She looks down at her feet when he comments and shrugs.]

I'm a brave girl. Rawr. [She wanders over to the mirror cautiously. Clearly the imposed reflection bothers her more than she's letting on. She pauses just long enough to look and confirm, yup decomposed corpse going on before she turns on her heel and steps away from the mirror. She did stay long enough for Barrons to see the decomposed corpse reflection though.]

Well today I'm just a special girl. This mirror has a reflection too.

[His gaze follows her to the mirror and then he takes a few steps to stand behind her and see her reflection in the mirror. One brow arches with interest at the sight of the corpse that is obviously still her. What could that possibly mean? He does smell the discomfort rolling off of her though and moves to shut the closet door to hide away the mirror. He rests his back against the closet door and inspects her openly again.]

And yet the reflection doesn't mimic reality.

[When he closes the closet door she gives him a bit of a tight smile and wraps her arms around her waist. Her hair is in a messy bun sort of thing, all pulled back from her face so he's got a clear view of not!decomposed corpse Buffy.]

At least not now. [That is almost a whisper, not quite under her breath but not entirely loud enough to be clear to a human.]

Yay for not looking like something from a Tim Burton movie.

[He doesn't know who Tim Burton is and isn't that well versed in movies at all. But he does hear her original comment and he can feel something else that tells him that she isn't exactly what she might appear to be. It's a level of vibration that superior beings ping at, something he can feel. It makes him bristle a bit but is also something he's accustomed to.]

To mean that it has mimicked reality before or that it will in the future. Time is a very fluid thing, you see.

[She blinks at him a bit.]

Like syrup?

[She sort of gets it. Kind of. She just doesn't want to admit to anything without understanding where he's coming from or if he was actually prying at all in the first place.]

More like... a rubber band. With each decision you make, even the smallest of choices, it changes shape.

[With his hands, he mimics the motions of a rubber band in his fingers; tugging it and releasing it, spreading it apart and allowing it to contract.]

Yet for as often as it changes, it always and quite inevitably reverts to its original shape.

[Buffy watches his demonstration with her head cocked to one side. Slowly, she unwinds her arms from her waist and relaxes a little. She moves over to the bed and reaches under, nabbing the bottle of Jameson that Spike left there. She uncaps it, takes a swig, makes a face and holds it out to Barrons.]

So, regardless of how we change things, they end up the same. The way [finger quotes here]"fate" intended.

Fate was meant to be challenged. Fate implies a defined outcome.

[He arches a brow, impressed that she has a stash down here and also a bit confused by it. However, he takes the bottle and after giving it some inspection and a nice sniff, he takes a healthy drink of it.]

Every world has that point that it is constantly trying to maintain, that point at which it is most comfortable. And as each world has that point, so do each of our lives. As do our relationships with one another. Everything is in constant flux, under constant influence or strain and yet everything continually attempts to maintain that point of comfort. It is you and I who pull it out of that comfort zone and shape it to our will instead of its natural state.

[She considers what he's saying, plopping down on the bed as he speaks. It's not as if there's much else here. Spike was pretty sparten about his room and she never really furnished it beyond a bed. If he stays on any kind of regular basis, Buffy won't mind Barrons decorating and furnishing.]

I like that idea better. That we can change things even if it's resistant to stretching. Otherwise it's too tempting to want to drink that bottle and jump off a tall building.

A bit of an extreme reaction, Ms. Summers.

[A bit suicidal and dark. He studies her for a moment and then moves forward to offer her the bottle back. He can't get drunk anyway so drinking, while occasionally enjoyable, is a waste of time for him.]

You see, while time might be resistant in one direction, the case could be entirely different from another. Absolute fluidity.

I'm all about the extremes.

[Although really she's not quite as suicidal as that statement might make her seem. Unless it's for Dawn, Buffy's survival instinct is was too high to allow her to kill herself. She would have a hard time even letting someone else kill her. Part of it's slayer and part of it is just Buffy.

She takes the bottle, takes a sip and recaps it, putting it on the floor.]

So how did you get to be an expert on time fluids?

[His lips curl into another cat ate the canary grin. He offers a light chuckle that melts into an inhuman rattling sound in his chest. His hands clasp behind his back and he arches an amused brow.]

I pay attention. Now why are you seeing yourself as a corpse in your reflection?

[Oh good a smart ass, smart, something other than human--at least she thinks he is--that pays attention.]

I bet you were head boy at school. [She shrugs in response to his question.] The City thinks I'd rock the zombie look?

[So not the truth. She'll probably tell the truth with a little more prodding. Flippant questions are always her first defense.]

I never attended school.

[Said quite matter of factly since he has no idea what a head boy would be. And he can smell just a hint of untruth. Of course Jericho doesn't think the city thinks much of anything and therefore comes to the conclusion on his own that that isn't exactly the truth.

So he just watches her expectantly, waiting to see if she gets to the truth without any prodding.]

[Oh she hates that. Angel used to do that to her. She squirms a little then rolls her eyes.] Fine. I died. It's not like it was a big deal. My friends brought me back after four months. [She looks up to Barrons.]

Happy?

[Really she caves way too easily.]

Should I be?

[He shakes his head, unsure of why he should be happy about such a thing. But she also sounds very defensive about it which is a huge tell that dying bothers her, as it would most beings.]

Four months is enough time to decay. You should be thankful that you came back in so pretty a package as you did considering the alternatives... not to mention the numerous ways a spell such as that could go wrong.

It's a--nevermind.

[She flops onto the bed on her back. Yes she's taking over your space here, Barrons. She'll give it back.]

I know. I'm a lucky girl. I don't think they really expected it to work. Or it didn't work the way they expected it to. They left the coffin buried.

[It isn't really his space, he's only going to borrow it from time to time. He finds it amusing that she's getting her scent all over the sheets though. Barrons requires very little sleep and even when he does sleep, it isn't really what humans call sleep. It's more like a meditative moment of silence where he shuts everything off. However, make no mistake that he would be acquainting himself with that scent once she was gone.]

Ahhh well we live in an age of no patience. Everyone wants immediate gratification, rarely considering that such a powerful spell might take a little time to come into fruition.

[Honestly, she isn't thinking about getting her scent all over the place. She probably should be considering how much interaction she's had with vampires. She would wonder why he'd be getting used to her scent though. She would get it if they were involved or anything.]

They were afraid I was in a Hell dimension. I get it. I really do. It just wasn't...really thought out.

As sentimental and thoughtful as that may be, it still does nothing to explain their stupidity in the matter.

[Considering how many times Barrons had died and resurrected again and how painful a few of those deaths were, he has tons of experience on this subject and that confidence clearly shows through in his manner and in the way he speaks.]

A pity you had to define the definition of repercussion for their hastiness.

[Buffy shrugs a little. She's not ready to call her friends out but she's not going to argue either. She appreciates the solidarity.]

Somebody's always got to be the object lesson. From now on, I'm guessing coffins get dug up first.

47th Slay [Accidental Video]

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