Luceti Mods (
lucetimods) wrote in
lucetilogs2012-10-29 10:45 pm
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Entry tags:
- !draft,
- [btvs/ats] spike,
- [btvs] buffy summers,
- [golden sun] mia,
- [halo] spartan-23 (daisy),
- [kingdom hearts] sora,
- [marvel comics] teddy altman / hulkling,
- [marvel comics] william kaplan / wiccan,
- [marvel films] clint barton,
- [marvel films] loki,
- [marvel films] pepper potts,
- [marvel films] steve rogers,
- [marvel films] tony stark,
- [naruto] nara shikamaru,
- [npc] carol,
- [npc] davis,
- [oc] adele leblanc,
- [one piece] nefertari vivi,
- [one piece] sanji,
- [sailor moon] ami mizuno,
- [star wars] obi-wan kenobi,
- [suikoden] albert silverberg,
- [tales: graces] asbel,
- [tales: legendia] walter delques,
- [tales: symphonia] mithos yggdrasill,
- [tales: symphonia] raine sage,
- [tales: symphonia] yuan,
- [tales: vesperia] estelle,
- [the hunger games] clove,
- [x-men evolution] rogue
There'll be trouble when the kidz come out
Who: All remaining draftees
What: Zombies! Zombies! Zombies!
When: The 29th to 31st
Where: Vaskoth
Summary: Please read here for event information
Rating: B for BRRAAAIIIINSSSS
On the 29th, the Malnosso announce over the radios that the power cap will be lifted to a full 100%. Carol broadcasts a message.
On the 30th, the Malnosso declare Vaskoth completely lost. Those with radio access will discover that the enclosure is to be bombed.
On the 31st, survivors will have one last chance to evacuate or try to find the cure. 3PM is do or die.
What: Zombies! Zombies! Zombies!
When: The 29th to 31st
Where: Vaskoth
Summary: Please read here for event information
Rating: B for BRRAAAIIIINSSSS
On the 29th, the Malnosso announce over the radios that the power cap will be lifted to a full 100%. Carol broadcasts a message.
On the 30th, the Malnosso declare Vaskoth completely lost. Those with radio access will discover that the enclosure is to be bombed.
On the 31st, survivors will have one last chance to evacuate or try to find the cure. 3PM is do or die.
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It had been hard, sure. But not nearly as hard on him as others. But he moved to sit beside her on the stairs. His concern was obvious when he saw her hesitation. The fear of a disease could make people do wild things. Spike set a hand on her shoulder.
no subject
She was so scared of infection. Of disease. Of hospitals. Of turning into something that was only a fraction of who she was meant to be -- even now, being powerless was better than being no one. A runner or a shambler, stripped of identity and complex purpose. Worse than vampires, in a way.
But not dead. Not yet dead. And that's what made killing them so violently painful. Buffy wasn't built for this flavour of mercy; she wasn't built to euthanize those whose souls were likely still there.
"Good," she expressed genuine relief. She'd grown so worried after witnessing him feeding on a Cultist. "At least you have that going for you. Otherwise -- trust me -- playing it normal has its severe drawbacks."
Her voice was barely above a whisper.
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"We're getting out of here, Buffy. You and I. We'll make it to the tunnels, right? Go back to Luceti. Safe as you like. We'll be our old selves there."
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"But I..." am no good to anyone right now, dead or alive. "I can't live with that choice. Not when I know there'll be people staying."
It wasn't even about pride. Or saving face. Or living up to an ideal. It was something deep in the pit of her body. Her organs and her guts screamed for a better resolution than this. Gently -- emboldened by their earlier proximity -- she touched her fingertips to his knuckles as they curled over her shoulder.
"I won't ask you to stay with me, Spike. Not if going's what you wanna do."
But I'd like you to.
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"Buffy, we'll die. It's a great bloody bomb they're dropping. We can't fight it. We can't even hide from it. I know people are stuck here, but there's nothing we can do about it."
He would stay. There was no question of it. But he had to try and save her. Even if it was from herself.
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"You make us sound so helpless..."
No. Spike was only speaking reasonably, but Buffy felt helpless and she wanted to blame him. Because he was here. Corporeal. Blameable.
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"Helpless is sitting here. Getting up, walking to the tunnel? That's not helpless. It's standing up and surviving. If you want to stay here and die, then God help me, I'll do it. But you'll be bugs-for-brains if you do."
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Not any longer. "I just wanna do what I always do. I wanna make difference. Don't tell me you don't feel it, too."
But his tough love had already spurred her into action. How could she sit here and feel sorry for herself when it wasn't doing anyone any good?
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"You won't make a difference if you don't live long enough to see it through. It's one battle, pet. Not the end of a war."
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"That's just it. Aren't wars won on fighting every battle as if it was the turning point?"
Buffy had gotten to where she was today by fighting every fight with a ferocity worthy of a valiant last stand.
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He pulled at her, urging her to walk with him.
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But other words sliced back into her memories like cracks crazing through glass: so one of us is living. Buffy gave the vampire's cold hand a needy little squeeze before slipping away. It had been long enough, hadn't it? Anything more would step on discretion's toes. And discretion was a bitch.
The Slayer dropped her sword onto her shoulder. "How're the streets?"
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After a near miss that almost had him taking a fall, Spike had taken to the streets instead. Without his vampire strength, roof parkour was just too dangerous.
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She offered up this confession without much hesitation. After all, if there was anyone she didn't mind hearing about her depowered recklessness or her relative cowardice in avoiding the streets, it was Spike. Buffy believed she'd already tarnished her reputation beyond salvation with the vampire; why hide anything now? He said it himself: he'd seen the worst of her.
"Being a cheerleader in a previous life pays off. Sky-high acrobatics? Not so scary after you've had to trust your fate to fellow skirts holding fast at the bottom of a human pyramid."
Mumbled. Whispered. A distracted prattling as she leaned her way towards the window and eyed up the drive outside. The angle wasn't ideal.
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Not that he was unfit or unable. But he was conditioned by a hundred years to be so much more than he was right now. Which is why he wanted to risk the streets over the roofs.
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Of all the times to bring that up...
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"Turns out," she threw in her two cents as she left the unhelpful window and approached the door, "poetry? Not all that simple to write. Anything-silvered wings included."
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"You did decent for yourself." It was praise, but hardly high praise. He hastily added: "As beginners go."
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Wait. That meant Spike had read it.
"How di--" Drusilla. Dammit, but she'd left a copy for Drusilla.
Thank goodness for the perma-darkness outside, shading her shame-reddened cheeks. "Sugar," she 'swore' -- substituting a softer word for a harsher one.
no subject
Dismissive. She didn't like the revelation. He didn't like the fact it had happened. So focus on something else to complain about.
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How many times in their pre-alliance life and unlife did Spike simply run at the end of a fight? Or, at the least, retreat tactically. Of course, this meant that he'd just as successfully played his part by not giving chase.
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They'd carry on from there, searching for a way back to Luceti. Wonder of wonders that they'd eventually run into Jack Sparrow.