Buffy Summers (slayer_comma_b) wrote in wariscoming, @ 2013-03-16 05:38:00 |
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Entry tags: | andrew bennett, buffy summers |
Who: Buffy and OPEN
What: Buffy arrives.
When: Day.
Where: A busy street.
Everything hurt.
Ached.
Grated against her skin like sandpaper. Twisted her belly like sickness. Crushed against her bones like stone. It was all wrong. The harsh light in her eyes, the garish colors, this wasn't where she was supposed to be. There was emptiness where she had been held close in love. She had been formless and filled and now she was constrained by a form that felt alien to her.
This was wrong.
This was wrong.
Movement was no improvement on stillness, muscles creaked and bones jarred against tendons, but she endured it, her goal glowing gently in her mind, soft and peaceful and perfect in a world that was all harsh edges.
She was Buffy Summers and she didn't give up. She was going to get it back.
* * *
Anyone watching would see a small woman, neatly turned out in heels and a nice black dress (it was the one she'd been buried in). Her hair was smooth, her makeup was perfect. Only her expression -- vaguely horrified -- showed that something was not quite right.
She moved slowly down the street, looking at no one, flinching away when anyone got close to her, step after step until she reached a cross street. She looked both ways, and then looked again, squinting after something that wasn't there. She picked the direction that looked less crowded and started off again.