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May. 13th, 2009


what dreams may come. (matthew.)

After being asleep for months, Inara would have been happy to never have her head hit the pillow again. For the first week, she had avoided the couch that had been her resting place for so long, and stayed up as late as she was physically able, drinking tea into the night. The first night, she had dozed off for no more than two hours before jolting into consciousness, fear and then relief at being awake flooding her body. The second day, she had seen the sun rise, but had gone through the rest of the day in a daze, without energy, dragging.

She knew this couldn't go on. Avoiding sleep would take its toll on her, physically and emotionally. Already she was noticing dark circles, like bruises, under her eyes, the skin papery-thin. If she wanted to go back to her previous life at all... well, she would have to get over her newfound fear of sleep.

That night, she took all the steps towards relaxation, and then some. She took a bath with lavender oils, lit candles and incense, changed into a silk robe and sat cross-legged on her bedroom floor, eyes closed, working to control her breathing and the beating of her heart. She was stronger than this. It was quite ridiculous, after all, to be afraid of sleep. To be afraid of never waking up.

After all, what were the chances of that happening twice?

Luckily, the exhaustion was all she needed. After days of being worn out, all it took was for her to pull the covers over her shoulders, curl up on one side, rest her cheek in the palm of her hand, and she was asleep, flying off to the land of dreams.

Apr. 8th, 2009


The samples are free. [Matthew]

Wally's Ice Cream World was having a taste test. This was a frequent occurrence; after inflicting new flavor concoctions on his staff, the proprietor sent the least vile creations out for public consumption. Sometimes the options were tasty, but more often they were a bit odd.

Afternoon was headed on to evening, and one of Wally's cashiers was standing in front of the shop. She was short, petite, and a paper hat reminiscent of the soda-fountain days of yore sat perched atop her head. It was too small, and kept threatening to blow away when the breeze picked up. The tray of sample cups, complete with little pink plastic spoons, balanced precariously in her right hand as she reached up to secure her cap with her left. "Potato Chip," the tray label read. "Try one."

Judging by the number of cups on the tray, the teenager hadn't been able to entice many takers.

"Ice cream!" Raven called, a pleading edge to her voice. "The samples are free."

Mar. 31st, 2009


All I have to do... [Matthew]

"What do you mean I didn't graduate? I graduated. I was voted class protector!"

Buffy's protests ignored she turned quickly to leave an invisible authority figure, instead finding herself inside one of Sunnydale High School's long destroyed classrooms. Part of a wall with a chalk board was still up, and desks were lined neatly in rubble. Ms. Calendar stood in front of the class dressed in a black leather bondage suit, whip in hand. Jennifer Government stretched out over the teacher's desk like a cat, hand cuffed but also managing to eat an apple at the same time. Her former lover was difficult to focus on. Jennifer's arms were somehow outside Buffy's peripheral vision when she tried to inspect the front of the classroom more closely.

"I hope you all studied for today's test. It's worth fifty percent of your grade." There were groans from the other students, but when Buffy looked around her all the desks were empty.

"I got an A," Jennifer Government stated cooly with a smile.

"Of course you did," Jenny Calendar combed a strand of Jennifer's hair behind her ear.

Buffy looked down and saw she was wearing the white prom dress from her first year at Sunnydale and a black leather jacket. Unsure of what class she was even in, her forehead landed with a hard thud on top of her desk as she realized at the same time that she didn't have a pencil. Or a backpack. Or school books. Her mom was going to kill her.

As the slayer dreamt she whined into her pillow, troubled.

Feb. 27th, 2009


Rooftops [Matthew]

Angel stood over The City, looking down from the edge of a tall building staring over and ever changing skyline. He learned forward with his hands on the ledge, face molded into a perpetual frown. To his right was a large, black bird perched next to him. Angel had been talking incessantly for about twenty minutes. It felt good to babble. Not that he didn't occasionally babble to his co-workers, but this was the sort of thing he liked to keep to himself.

The former vampire's brows knitted together in thought as he continued to speak: "I just feel like I've been phoning it in. I mean sure, most the gang is back together and all of them seem okay, but that just makes it feel more like a trick somehow. I mean, just like that, everything we ever accomplished doesn't mean anything anymore? Everything we've sacrificed is wiped clean? New City, no hell dimensions? There's got to be a catch.

"And then there's that Sam kid. I mean, he seems like a smart, perfectly capable guy. And Fred just shoves him on me like she wanted me to mentor him or something. Not that wouldn't want to, but I don't even know if he really needs it and even if he did that's kind of a big responsibility, demon heritage or not. You don't have to have demon in you to turn into an asshole. Sure we might have some things in common, being a former vampire and all but that doesn't automatically make me the right person.

"Then there's Buffy. I can't just walk back into her life and say Hey, I'm human now! Can I take you out to dinner? Our relationship was based more on being in constant danger together. What if I'm not exciting enough anymore? I'd probably just get in the way. Anita seemed alright, but it's kind of the same story."

Angel frowned.

ooc note: This is a space holder for when Nat is no longer on hiatus.
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