|I Moderate (i_moderate) wrote in we_archive,|
@ 2006-07-30 23:23:00
|Entry tags:||daniel osborne, willow rosenberg|
i_howlatthemoon Log! Werewolf & Witch
Who: Evil!Willow & Oz
What: Meet. And it's all sunshine and lollipops and rainbows everywhere! Or not. It's actually the opposite really.
When: Now Like?
Ect: I just wanted to use this icon. It's so very OOC for this log,
Oz: Oz wasn't sure if running away from problems was an Oz skill, or a werewolf skill. Well, okay, so his big problems had started when he became a werewolf so maybe it was an Oz skill that had just been dormant until he been bit. Didn't mater, what mattered in the end was that Oz was running. Again.
He was on the street moving fast, keeping his eyes downcast. He had gone back to his apartment and changed into his own clothes, and felt a little more … human now. But he could still see the bodies. Maybe it had been there time … sure, but he had sure played a part in their death. That could not be denied.
His apartment wasn't completely packed up, Oz did have vague plans to return. Just not anytime soon. So he walked, head down, hands in pockets and tried to think nice happy, completely human thoughts.
It was Willow's voice and it was inside his head. It was hard to make out exactly what happened, but that didn't really matter. There was guilt and death. Willow's thoughts may have been human but they certainly weren't humane. She didn't walk toward him because of sympathy or a desire to see an ex-boyfriend. Willow went because she was curious.
She didn't dress like her doppelganger, but the all black was a far cry from her high school and college years of bright, happy colors. The black hair, eyes and dark veins along her face certainly didn't look normal or happy.
She was able to speak out loud when she finally spotted him. She didn't look at him. It was more like she looked through him. Willow knew full well who Oz was, but it was a long way from really recognizing him in her current grieving state.
Oz: Now as far as Oz was concerned …. The whole disaster that was him and Willow had happened a few weeks ago. Willow had been the thing that had made him mad when he had thought that the wolf was under control. Well right now the wolf was happy, it had gotten to come out and play and some ex-girlfriend wasn’t going to set it off.
That was the good. The bad .. .well the bad was when Oz looked up and saw her. He blinked, and than took a step back. The veins on her face … the hair … was it Willow? Or some bizzaro-Willow? This place was crazy, it had 'Reapers' who knew what else was possible.
Willow: Willow sighed, a bit on the disappointed side. That single step backward told Willow nearly everything she needed to know. He wasn't going to help her, not willingly.
"In the flesh," she didn't hide the disappointment in her face. She didn't look particularly down about this encounter. Mostly she looked annoyed.
He did have one particularly interesting piece of information in his head as Willow started to search through it for clues of how they were drawn into this place. The last couple of years never happened for him. Same dimension, different times. Was this why he never came back? Willow didn't dwell on that. There was something intrinsically painful about the thought. She buried it deep.
"Guess it didn't work out with those cooky monks."
Oz: "It did, but than it didn't and I …" his voice trialed off. He didn't want to ask her if she was okay, the answer to that was obvious. All the hair on the back of his neck was standing up and the desire to run, run fast and run far away was strong. But this was Willow.
"The monks prefer mystical to kooky actually."
Willow: "Four people, Oz. I mean besides Veruca they were pretty much your first, weren't they?"
Willow walked toward him, slowly. "But I'm glad the whole running away from your problems is working out so well. When was the last time I saw you? Two, two and a half years ago?"
If she just picked long enough it would stop hurting. Willow hated to hurt so horribly. She hated the way he made her feel just by looking at him.
Oz: "What?" Time sometimes got away from Oz, like he would sit down to practice his guitar for an hour and look up and realize three hours had past. But he had never lost years before. "Two .. years? What?" So much easier to focus on that than on the other things she was saying.
He kept backing up, trying to maintain the same distance between them. Maybe he was being punished. For killing those people. Weirder things had happed, and being punished for the killings this way? Well it made 'sense'.
And they where the first. After Veruca. And man that wound was still open, Willow saying her name made him wince.
Willow: "Different times. We were placed here from different time periods. Keep up, Oz. Why exactly were you in the Scooby Gang anyway? I mean mascot jokes aside, I'm not really sure what you did."
Willow stopped. Her head canted curiously to the side.
"I can't tell who you're more afraid of. Me or you."
She considered hurting him, torturing him until he turned. Willow would have had use for a werewolf, someone to fight on the front line for her. She wasn't ready to do such a thing. Not yet. It sickened her that she wasn't ready.
Willow took a few steps backward, as though to walk away.
Oz: As to who scared him more, Oz had and answer to that; "I'd say it's a tie."
Different times, well that explained … things. Although now there was all kind of new guilt. He had been here, or .. not here but he hadn't been there when whatever had happened to her had happened.
And as for the other question; "I was there for you Willow."
Willow: "Shut up!"
Energy spiraled from her hands. It was a gut reaction. She didn't have it quite in her, to assault him at full force. She wanted to. A part of her really wanted to. Unfortunately Oz had hit a sensitive nerve.
"Tara is dead. I have work to do now. I have to find a way out of here."
No distractions. Willow could not afford them.
Oz: Well that hurt, he doubled over, trying to remember how to breathe and how to think and how to -- he glanced down at the beads around his wrist – to stay human. Yes, this was one of those times when running away was the best plan.
The City was big. But not that big. He had her scent now. He could find her again.
Willow: Willow had to leave. Now. She took off in the opposite direction and began to run. Apparently our big bad had a weakness.