lucetilogs | melt your silver down / kiss your lover's face / the sirens start to sound

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melt your silver down / kiss your lover's face / the sirens start to sound

Who: [Bad username or site: lists_to_port title= @ livejournal.com] & [Bad username or site: slaying title= @ livejournal.com]
What: a battle dome date
When: july 9th
Where: the battle dome
Summary: one part training exercise, two parts tourism
Rating: r -- for violence. and then who knows what. better to be safe than sorry idek?

Buffy Summers asked Jack Sparrow to meet her at the battle dome. It was a plan that had been discussed before the pirate had disappeared and now that he was back? Well -- she cared very little for dawdling. They had dawdled before but now was the time for seizing. She had yet to overcome the horror of waking up alone for yet another morning when she had expected to be the furthest thing from it.

People change. And Buffy mused quietly upon the changes to be found in Jack as she waited just outside the dome's entrance. She had a bag-o-weapons at her feet and a plastic bottle filled with some sort of over-sugared juice in her hand.

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"Erm......I'm guessing the other kind? They didn't eat any flesh that I saw, love. They didn't eat ANYTHING."

"...So what were they doing? Just -- standing around being zombified?"

"Barbossa's crew weren't proper zombies, first off. Just...undead and unhappy. Blackbeard's zombified officers chiefly made it their mission to drive us to work as hard as possible, and weren't sparing of the lash. Zombies have far fewer qualms about that sort of thing than your average hard-hearted overseer, love. But it were all under his control, his orders."

He reached up to scratch at his chest, worrying at the hidden mark beneath.

"Zombies as manual labour. That's a new one. To me, at least. They don't really seem like the controllable type. Unless there's some sort of necromancy involved. In which case? Yuck."

"Necromancy! That's the word, love! Necromancy. Blackbeard were a fearsome necromancer. Likely you'd punch him square in the jaw, I expect."

"And maybe a few jabs to the gut, too. Necromancy is dark, dark stuff."

She began to speed up. Just a little. The school was around the corner -- but she wondered which one? Hers, or the reconstructed one that Dawn had attended? Did this simulation of Sunnydale have some sort of coherent chronology?

"The Queen Anne's Revenge? His fearsome ship, Annie? He could wave his sword about and she'd do anything for him." Partly Sparrow was jealous of that sort of control over a ship. The Pearl was a fickle mistress at best, always running off with other men. "She spat fire, too. Few pirates would ever openly run against her."

The more she heard about this Blackbeard, the more she was convinced that this was one powerful warlock. He would have to be, she suspected, to command the undead and to do the things he'd done.

"I wonder about the price he paid for that kind of magic."

"I'm fairly certain, darling, that it was his immortal soul. That was why Angelica brought in her missionary, what's-his-name. Young chap. Thumped very loudly on his Bible. And there was a very hellish sort of dyingness to his death, from what I could see. He's in torment now I expect."

They turned the corner and a large, academic looking building reared its very large facade to the street-side.

"Or he could've been a natural. It happens."

She grimaced at the school. "...Huh. The simulation must not care about timelines very much. This shouldn't be here anymore."

"Courthouse? Prison? Is this where the hangings took place?"

"...Something like that."

She considered the building with a steeled gaze. It was tough to remind herself that, in fact, the Hellmouth was not actually underneath it. "Sunnydale High School. The first one -- the one I blew up. But it's looking mighty unblown up, right now."

"School? Ugh. I wouldn't have lasted a day. I'dve climbed right out the window, Annie. The Tower of London isn't this horrifying."

"...I did climb out the window. And jumped the fence. And got into buckets of trouble for it."

She made no move to go advance upon the building. Why should she? It only stung more now that she knew Giles would remember none of it. He wouldn't even know this building.

Jack didn't make any moves toward it simply because it screamed PRISON I AM A PRISON AND ANY PIRATES WHO ENTER WILL LEAVE FEET FIRST IN A PINE BOX. OR NOT. PERHAPS YOU WILL JUST BE FED TO THE RAVENS.

"Come. Show me something you love."

...That might have had something to do with the strangely flip sign that proclaimed 'Sunnydale High -- two whole weeks with no fatalities!' right under 'Football game next Friday!' It had been a horrible, horrible school. And still some of her best memories. Xander, Willow. Giles.

"...It's not far." She gave the building one last haunted glance before continuing on.

He caught that glance and decided he needed to Cheer Buffy Up. It was what he'd set out to do, after all, long before.

"I like this, seeing something you love! Loved? Love. It's exciting. 'The Place Behind the Warrior,' and all that."

"Say it like that and it sounds like a cheesy daytime special." She pressed forward -- the long way around, skirting a particularly large cemetery on their right.

"Oi! Not 'cheesy,' me! I bet the other lads would give their last teeth to be in my boots right now. Seein' the future and all."

And a map. He dearly wanted to see a map.

"The future? Riiight. And here I thought you were talking about a date with me."

Her eyes were on the graves; habit. Buffy looked for freshly disturbed soil even though there was nothing about the simulation that required an actual rising to have taken place. But the tactics were a little like riding a bicycle. She'd never forget them.

"Erm....they'd STILL give their last teeth to be in my boots, Annie. Either way."

Jack was checking out the graves also, perhaps even more obviously so. "I have never seen a boneyard of this size in my life."

"...Sunnydale has twelve of them." She glanced quickly back to him -- feeling culpable. Caught in the act. At least this wasn't the one that she had been kept in. That was in a much nicer cemetery.

"They're all about this size."

"...Oh."

Suddenly it all seemed to click: her morbid sense of responsibility for everyone's lives. Her need for control over even small situations and her extreme protectiveness.

He wondered if she carried all these dead ones around with her.

"That's...a lot."

It was a grim little city for such a cheery name. And it wasn't just the vampires that upped the body count. Other demons, too. And sometimes humans dabbling in the dark arts. And other times it was just something old and mystical gone very wrong. The size and number of the graveyards painted a clear picture: work, for Buffy Summers, had probably rarely come with an everybody lives tagline. Nearly every mystery started with a body, after all.

"It was the Hellmouth. It...did stuff to the place. Attracted the worst sorts, corrupted people. A magnet for evil."

"Then whyever did the good ones STAY, darling?! Whatever possessed them not to flee?"

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might wanna go check your other tag ;D

OH FOR THE

: D

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