lucetilogs | Draft Log #3: During v. 2.0

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Draft Log #3: During v. 2.0

Who: Everyone on the draft
What: Day 3-5
When: August 27th-August 29th
Where: ONCE MORE INTO THE-- ...BEACH
Summary: Like it says above. The draftees reach the beach.
Rating: V FOR VIOLENT BEHAVIOUR!!

Once again, That Handy Useful Information Link. Also a link to the previous draft log!

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[Derek nods, retrieving his socks. Since his jeans are already wet, he'll sit where he is, his toes digging into the sand while he starts scrubbing those as well.]

Jack all right? [He hadn't seen the pirate at all.]

[ oh, jack sparrow. the source of much of her rollercoasting. ] Did you see the airship that went down, yesterday? The one Jack pirated away from the Third Party?

[Derek had been too busy with his own ship duties to know who had stolen the airship, although he probably could have guessed. His voice turns a little sharp with the realization though.]

...He didn't die, did he?

...I thought he had. [ she shares that truth with all the bluntness of a woman who has been made to think that very thing before. thanks, infecto-derek. ]

But no, Bones has him laid up in that jungle clinic. Bad shape, though. He's the kinda guy who appreciates a visitor. You should stop by between your sneak-suppressings.

[He'd say 'you're welcome', but, uh, yeah. No. Thank god that part of him is gone, even if it took some stuff with it when it was banished.]

I'll check in on him, [He promised.]

So other than that, you all right?

...Glad to have my fighting feet on the ground again. So, y'know. Right as rain.

Right.

[Derek goes back to scrubbing those socks. He's pretty much out of words, and truthfully, he's been like that ever since he came back from that first death in an effort to cure him. He's been feeling disconnected since then, and even more so when he was completely healed.

There should be more words, somewhere. But there aren't.]

[ hmm. comfort be damned -- buffy takes a seat in the shallow waters next to the hunter. ]

We used to talk for hours, Derek. [ perhaps the middle of warzone isn't the best locale for this but buffy was never picky about her heart-to-hearts. ] When you told me I'd done right by you, I thought... [ thought that things would really be okay again between them.

in yet another poor show of logic, buffy mistakenly believes that derek's reticence is her fault. not his. ]

You did, Buffy. Don't even doubt yourself on that.

[And it's certainly not her fault that part of the price of becoming completely human again was losing that part of his soul that had already been devoured.

He'll continue to pick at the sock.]

...You ever feel like your skin doesn't feel right any more?

Only once...well, twice. Once home and once here. But it lasted so much longer, here.

[ and then it wasn't just her skin that felt wrong. it was her muscles. her bones. her eyes and ears and the parts of her brain that should have known how to react better. twice in her long Slayer life has she been denied her mystical birthright. and twice, it's felt like haunting some other tiny girl's body. ]

[Derek nods. For his part, he's not quite aware of what he's missing, just that he's missing something, and it's that something that's been driving him away from all but the most casual of friendships. It's a pain, and a block, and almost feels like its own sickness.

But he doesn't quite have the words for that, so...]

That's where I am, Buffy. It doesn't feel right. It's not you.

...The disease is gone but the symptoms linger. [ her head bows; she doesn't want to betray all that sadness. ] Derek, I'm so sorry.

[Derek takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly.]

It's all right. I'm alive and not a risk to others anymore. There's time to work it out, now.

[If it can be worked out.]

And are you? Working it out?

Best I can, yeah.

[It's a lot like trying to get out of the bed in the morning when you;re depressed, though. Sometimes it takes more effort than he wants to make.]

...Can I help? Is there anything -- anything -- I can do?

...Don't think it's your fault, all right? That's all I ask. It's something inside me and nothing you did. I'd actually be worse off if you hadn't helped. Don't forget that.

[The words feel like ashes in his mouth, but they're the truth. And even though he doesn't feel how grateful he was for her help, he knows he is grateful...or at least that he would be if that part of him wasn't so numb.

So...dead feeling.]

Right. Here's me, never forgetting.

[ she reaches out for one of derek's hands. ]

[He'll let her take it, and squeeze her fingers gently. The simple gesture of comfort is not as hard to express for him.]

You've always been there for me, thick and thin. It's only fair I return the favour.

[Derek nods and gives her hand another squeeze before letting go. He's still stuck for words, although he understands the sentiment.]

We're friends. [As if that explains everything.]

And colleagues. Don't forget that part. Friendly colleagues. Colleague-y friends.

[That will earn her a slight smile.]

That too.

...You'll probably want to oil that scythe. Salt water's not all that great for metal weapons.

Oh, I will. Any other blade and I'd say screw it -- but this one? It's a beauty.

[ she touches her fingers along the blade. lovingly. she's never felt so much attachment to one weapon before this one. ]

[Derek has to agree. It's too big to be practical on his own world, but it is well made and well balanced from what he can tell.

His socks clean, he turns his attention to his jeans. At this point, they're mostly clean from being in the water for so long, but there's still a few spots that could stand a sand scouring.

It'll be a while before he can get them off, now--long after they've dried, but in mixed company, it's an uncomfortable inconvenience he's willing to put up with.]

So does it change looks with each Slayer, or is it the same each time?

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