castleinthemist | | Opening Log

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| Opening Log

Everyone's waking up at once, covered in bits of rubble, temporarily without abilities and with a lurking headache. The castle looms around them, irrepressibly gray, huge and silent. The only noises are the people, rustling as they extract themselves from their sarcophagi and look for exits along the arching walkways.

Better take a look around, and see if anyone else knows what's going on.

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I know he does, I've read them. [And now she's hesitating, staying latched in Buffy's vicinity like a lost puppy. But okay, something seems a bit off here. Is Buffy still upset about Giles going back to England? She thought they'd made up.]

And I know that it was hurtful when he just up and left like that, but he came back when you needed him. When we needed him. He might not be Mr. Self-Confident about it, but he did plenty more than a phone call in the past year.

And the subtext is getting textual at this point. Will, relax, I'm not trying to ride you about not telling me where you were. Although, come to think of it, yeah, might be good to know, but that can wait. That can wait until we're cozy with the rest of the great big ol' army and you're shrinking Dawn for -- Oh, man, just wait til you see her. [ She's rolling her eyes and shrugging it off at this point, turning to start a hike away from the sarcophagi and expecting Willow to follow. ]

Right now, we need less with the discussion and more with the getting out of here. There are approximately zero good things that can come of dumping a power-sucked witch and Slayer into ... whatever this place is. 'Cause chances are the headliner's big, nasty and hungry.

[Definitely following along just a pace behind her and to the side. It's familiar, and natural, and honestly a little comforting.

Though the words aren't.] I'm with you on the big and nasty, but... I think we do need more discussion, cause I wasn't having any subtext. I mean-- I haven't been anywhere that you didn't know about. Just Devon, and you, well... you definitely knew about it, is my point. [Let's just not bring that up directly, shall we?] Also, why is Dawn being shrunk? Did she eat the Eat Me cake?

That's kinda the problem. She's not being shrunk, she's needing shrunk. Also, shrink, to find out why she needs to be shrunk. 'Cause I'm pretty positive the only cake she's been eating is of the Thricewise variety but will she tells Buffy-has-sex-with-monsters-a-lot about it? No, of course not, I'm only her sister. [ She stops mid-stride after that though, because she seems to process something. ] You were in with the Devon again?

No, it was just the once, remember?

[Have the patented Willow vulnerable uncertainty look.] I think... something is going on, aside from kidnapping and power suckage. Cause you're telling me all this like you think I shouldn't know it, and I mean, I don't, but why wouldn't I know it? You're my best friend.

[ There's a concerned stare there. ]

Willow, the once was years ago. Like, years of the plural variety. [ More full stop, turning to face Willow entirely now. ] What's the last thing you remember?

[Stopping with her and matching that stare.] We were figuring out what to do after Sunnydale went kablooey. You know, with the First?

... Why, what do you remember?

[ No. Flipping. Way. Her jaw sags a little as that sinks in. There's a definish pause before she speaks. ]

... About a year of the what we do after that. [ Her eyes go wide. ] Okay. So, kidnapping, power-sucking, and now amnesia. Looks like Big Bad's going for a bingo.

Wha-- Buffy, I so do not have amnesia! [she protests, eyes equally wide.] I haven't even been doing any memory spells, you know I swore that off! Not that I would remember cause that's, kinda the point, but--

This is just... I don't know, but it's something else.

Not you-amnesia! Evil amnesia! I mean, okay, not that you-amnesia wasn't on the charcoal side of morality to begin with, but -- So not you. I know that you're not -- You're control gal! Super control gal and, hey, speaking of? Nice job with the Slayerettes back there. [ It's weird to say "back there" when back there was a year back. But, for Willow's sake, she amended her wording and mentioned it again. ]

I just -- Will, why else wouldn't you remember the past year?

But I don't want to have amnesia! ... And whoa that was childish. Sorry.

It's not that I don't appreciate the support, and, I know what you're getting at. I just-- my magic has to come back. I can't deal with this. [It gets tricky when you totally tie up your sense of self-worth in one thing, and then you use that thing irresponsibly for the better part of a year, and then you almost end the world with it and have to have thing rehab, and now it's suddenly taken away right when you thought you were okay with it again. Goddess, this was unfair.]

[ Buffy's flailiness deflates immediately as she goes into best friend support mode. It's been a while for her, okay? Being all detached and leader-y of an army kinda made her rusty at this. She should have done it to begin with, but ... She steps forward, resting a hand on Willow's cheek and looking into her eyes intently. ]

It'll come back. We'll find out who got their power-suck on, we'll kick their butts six ways from Sunday. [ A beat. ] Which, I guess would probably be to Saturday. [ MORE TO THE POINT: ] And we'll get your magic and my Slayer oomph back where they belong. Easy peasy.

[The words of encouragement are exactly what she needed to hear, and although some part of Willow is still curled up in a ball waiting for her magic to return, most of her-- the important, frontwards part of her-- is bolstered. She reaches up and takes Buffy's hand with her own, gently, more grateful than ever to have a friend like this.]

... You're right. We've handled worse-- I know we have. And I'm sorry that I forgot all about you having to deal with the lack of Slayerness in my freak out. That can't be fun, either.

[ A shrug. ] Nothing I haven't dealt with before. I'm interested in the you-okayness of this equation. [ The latter part is true, but her casualness about losing her Slayerness ... that's greatly exaggerated. The truth is she's freaked. She's been the Slayer for so long, she doesn't know how to be anything else, to the point where her brain won't allow her to process the idea that this might be permanent. ]

We'll get through this. Together. [ She looks up and around. ] Possibly together with the others. We should look around, see if they're around here somewhere. If it got you and me, chances are, the others could be around here too.

Well, I'm interested in the you-okayness, I swear. [Even if she gets self-centered and it doesn't seem like it, she really is. Willow squeezes her hand briefly in support, and then lets go. It really is time to be done with the feelings powwow and move onto the slayage.]

It's worth a look? I'd definitely feel stupid if they were here somewhere and we didn't find them. So... fact-finding and people-finding mission, go.

[ There's a definitive nod. ] Right. So, we can just ... pry open crypts until we find them.

[She glances around and selects one of the sarcophagi, heading decisively over to it and beginning to try and pry the lid off. Except, right, not Slayer strengthened. It takes a lot of effort -- cringing, grunting -- and then she settles on trying to kick it open. And shove it. And then finally she kicks the side in a fit because ... this is not even a little working, and it just hurts her stubbed toe. She yelps. ]

I hate powerless Buffy. [ /grousing. ]

It's a pain, [she agrees in sympathy, having watched all this and winced.] You don't know how much I want to do a locator spell right now.

For the moment, though, I think... um, maybe we should just use our eyes. [Tentative suggestion? Willow doesn't want Buffy to get actually hurt, stubbed toe aside.]

Gee, you couldn't have told me that before I want all She-Rambo? [ It's more pout than grouch. She picks at her nails a little because dirt and rock and old stuff has officially gotten under them in her attempt to pry away the sarcophagus' lid. ] That's the thing though, Will, I don't know how useful eyeballing it's gonna be. I mean, I've done my share of wandering and seen plenty of people, but no Xander or Dawn anywhere. Not even a Slayer-in-training.

This place has to be bigger than this room. We have no idea what's out there! I'm not giving up just yet, [she says firmly.] We at least might find the Big Bad and get some explanations.

Consider me sold on out being the plan. [ She glances around slowly. ] But which way's out? [ Lots of walkways, but they look kinda maze-y. ] I'm leaning towards the pick one and wing it approach, personally.

Winging it sounds good, [she agrees.] It's a Scooby classic, after all.

How about... this way? [And Willow's just going to pick a random end of the room and gesture toward it.]

Scooby methods have been missed muchly. Seriously, I don't know where you've been walkabout-y Will at, but when we get out of this, you need to get your butt back to Scotland. [ She's heading off in the direction Willow gestured now. ] If not for me, then for Dawn lifecoach purposes.

Shrinking Dawn sounds like a tall order, [she says doubtfully, following along.] Either kind of shrinking.

Also, what are we doing in the land of tartan?

Five hundred freshly called Slayers, and last I checked, Scotland was the only place with a castle big enough to hold 'em all. I mean, I guess we could have taken over Windsor, but that just seems tacky. Also probably not a way to win friends.

Five hundred? [she repeats faintly.] Did I really-- five hundred?

It felt... okay, I can't describe how it felt, but wow.

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