Challenge:
Title: Arise and Fall (part of the 'Ascending' series).
Author: persephone_20
Website: back_in_town
Characters/Pairings: Spike & Illyria.
Notes: It was also said that Joss would come up to James Marsters on a weekly basis, grab him by the arms and shake him saying, "I don't know what to do with your character!" Well gosh, Joss, with all of those pretty and single ladies in the show, you couldn't figure something other than Buffy? *grins*
Challenge: "5 ways in which Spike's lover becomes a vampire"
Your choice on who, why and if it was out of love, hate or a combination of both. The challenge requirements are to find creative ways to vamp the character(s). It could be five short drabbles, five short stories, five different universes, heck it could be five different characters. The central elements are Spike, vamping, and the number five. Anything your creative and dark mind can come up with will be fun!
Story: 2 of 5 - 1,000 words.
Thanks to the OMGTHISISWONDERFUL artwork of nemo_88
Spike believed he’d said it well six years ago - even down to his friendly little descriptors of billions of people walking around like Happy Meals with legs - he liked this world. In the space of time they had spent together since the apocalypse, he’d come to understand much of the old ones such as her, not sealed away in sarcophaguses, but as they had lived; the world they had inhabited, they armies they had ruled over.
Her kingdom. The one of broken statues and crumbling temples. Her long dead kingdom.
“In my time, nightmares walked among us, walked and danced, skewering -”
“Yeah, Blue, you said that bit already,” Spike said, softly, taking a swig of some rancid tasting alcohol he had come across in the burning rubble. She was losing her power; just the day before he’d had to jump in to save her from a normal-joe vamp out for a free lunch. Dusted him, comforted her - all in a day’s work. “Besides, what would you call that sideshow of an apocalypse we’re living through if not those very things you describe?” Living through - but just barely.
The days were growing longer, and though he’d told himself firmly when this all started that he wouldn’t get too attached to the blue demon-queen of old, he felt sorrow for the fall of such a great being as this.
“They made us laugh,” Illyria said softly, seemingly in her own world. She did that a lot lately. Didn’t take long for her to snap back in again. Any minute now.
Spike looked up as she suddenly stood in front of him. Was that something left from her own ability to move, or just a show of how bad off he was?
“You must help me,” Illyria told him. “You have the power that I lack. You will give that to me.”
“Oh yeah?” Spike asked, forcing himself to sit upright and look her in the eye. “And whose army is gonna force that one into motion? Certainly not yours.”
The barb hit, he saw that immediately and cursed his quick tongue. Illyria retreated back into her own world of memory and despair. Spike could not take that again, certainly not from his own doing.
“What is it that you want me to do?” Spike stood up, coming to stand behind her and touching her shoulder to bring her back to him.
Her head moved to the side in that motion that was almost mechanical and served only to show again how far apart Illyria was from the rest of the human race that was left. “You are a vampire,” she informed him.
“Yeah,” Spike said, nodding encouragement for a little more information. “I’d be a little worried you’d gone daft if you didn’t remember that much.”
Illyria’s eyes lost their focus and drifted away. “The wolf, ram, and hart. In my time they were weak, barely above the vampire.” Spike wondered what conversation her fragmented mind pulled her back into, and then her blue eyes pinned his own quite neatly.
“I will lose what power I have left to me,” she told him, blinking harshly as if to keep him in view. “I will not let this overcome me. I have lived and now I live again; I shall not be defeated.”
“Alright,” Spike said, wanting his tone to calm her down some, “But what do you think I can do?”
“You are a vampire,” she said again. Another head twitch. “You have power apart from my own. Through the blood sacrifice, you can heal my wounds and make me whole once again.”
Spike stepped back from her as suddenly, her words began to make a terrifying kind of sense. “Whoa and hold it there just a second, Highness. You just ain’t thinking what I think you’re thinking.”
“I wish you to make me into a vampire. Into one of your own kind,” Illyria cut in.
“You are thinking what I think you’re thinking,” Spike said. “Damn.”
“With the power that is infused into your blood, I shall remain in control of his vile shell,” Illyria said passionately. “It shall not control me from beyond that place where nothings lie.”
“What says you need to keep control of… the body?” Spike questioned gently, “I mean, the way you came by it and all… maybe you just, I dunno, let it go as it will.”
Eyes of blue fire burned into him as rage at her own impotence settled on him. “If I am to just ‘let it go’,” she said, using his words awkwardly, and shaking, “Then there will be nothing left. Not of me; not of her.” She had grown to hate the body of Winifred Burkle, Spike realised, in the time that she had inhabited it. Naught but the love for that which was gone had she faced since her own rebirth into this world. This was her way of saying to him that if she was gone, then he would be left completely, utterly alone.
“I cannot hold this form much longer,” Illyria said. “Each day I feel it like to a burnt out muscle that shall move no more. When I lived, we used to put a nightmare out of its misery when it could inspire fear no further. Would you do the same to me?”
Spike’s eyes narrowed. This was a game that was being played. A dangerous one. “What you’re asking is a lot. I don’t know if you fully realise…”
“You will do this for me!” Illyria commanded him. Her facade did not last long; even she knew she had not the power to command any longer. “You must,” she said, defeated. She felt him laughing at her, as surely they must all now.
As he bit into her, he pondered abstractly how it became his to take these less than sane to his side. Drusilla had been his sire in the beginning. Perhaps at the end, this was nothing more than second chance.
Author: persephone_20
Website: back_in_town
Characters/Pairings: Spike & Illyria.
Notes: It was also said that Joss would come up to James Marsters on a weekly basis, grab him by the arms and shake him saying, "I don't know what to do with your character!" Well gosh, Joss, with all of those pretty and single ladies in the show, you couldn't figure something other than Buffy? *grins*
Challenge: "5 ways in which Spike's lover becomes a vampire"
Your choice on who, why and if it was out of love, hate or a combination of both. The challenge requirements are to find creative ways to vamp the character(s). It could be five short drabbles, five short stories, five different universes, heck it could be five different characters. The central elements are Spike, vamping, and the number five. Anything your creative and dark mind can come up with will be fun!
Story: 2 of 5 - 1,000 words.
Thanks to the OMGTHISISWONDERFUL artwork of nemo_88
Spike believed he’d said it well six years ago - even down to his friendly little descriptors of billions of people walking around like Happy Meals with legs - he liked this world. In the space of time they had spent together since the apocalypse, he’d come to understand much of the old ones such as her, not sealed away in sarcophaguses, but as they had lived; the world they had inhabited, they armies they had ruled over.
Her kingdom. The one of broken statues and crumbling temples. Her long dead kingdom.
“In my time, nightmares walked among us, walked and danced, skewering -”
“Yeah, Blue, you said that bit already,” Spike said, softly, taking a swig of some rancid tasting alcohol he had come across in the burning rubble. She was losing her power; just the day before he’d had to jump in to save her from a normal-joe vamp out for a free lunch. Dusted him, comforted her - all in a day’s work. “Besides, what would you call that sideshow of an apocalypse we’re living through if not those very things you describe?” Living through - but just barely.
The days were growing longer, and though he’d told himself firmly when this all started that he wouldn’t get too attached to the blue demon-queen of old, he felt sorrow for the fall of such a great being as this.
“They made us laugh,” Illyria said softly, seemingly in her own world. She did that a lot lately. Didn’t take long for her to snap back in again. Any minute now.
Spike looked up as she suddenly stood in front of him. Was that something left from her own ability to move, or just a show of how bad off he was?
“You must help me,” Illyria told him. “You have the power that I lack. You will give that to me.”
“Oh yeah?” Spike asked, forcing himself to sit upright and look her in the eye. “And whose army is gonna force that one into motion? Certainly not yours.”
The barb hit, he saw that immediately and cursed his quick tongue. Illyria retreated back into her own world of memory and despair. Spike could not take that again, certainly not from his own doing.
“What is it that you want me to do?” Spike stood up, coming to stand behind her and touching her shoulder to bring her back to him.
Her head moved to the side in that motion that was almost mechanical and served only to show again how far apart Illyria was from the rest of the human race that was left. “You are a vampire,” she informed him.
“Yeah,” Spike said, nodding encouragement for a little more information. “I’d be a little worried you’d gone daft if you didn’t remember that much.”
Illyria’s eyes lost their focus and drifted away. “The wolf, ram, and hart. In my time they were weak, barely above the vampire.” Spike wondered what conversation her fragmented mind pulled her back into, and then her blue eyes pinned his own quite neatly.
“I will lose what power I have left to me,” she told him, blinking harshly as if to keep him in view. “I will not let this overcome me. I have lived and now I live again; I shall not be defeated.”
“Alright,” Spike said, wanting his tone to calm her down some, “But what do you think I can do?”
“You are a vampire,” she said again. Another head twitch. “You have power apart from my own. Through the blood sacrifice, you can heal my wounds and make me whole once again.”
Spike stepped back from her as suddenly, her words began to make a terrifying kind of sense. “Whoa and hold it there just a second, Highness. You just ain’t thinking what I think you’re thinking.”
“I wish you to make me into a vampire. Into one of your own kind,” Illyria cut in.
“You are thinking what I think you’re thinking,” Spike said. “Damn.”
“With the power that is infused into your blood, I shall remain in control of his vile shell,” Illyria said passionately. “It shall not control me from beyond that place where nothings lie.”
“What says you need to keep control of… the body?” Spike questioned gently, “I mean, the way you came by it and all… maybe you just, I dunno, let it go as it will.”
Eyes of blue fire burned into him as rage at her own impotence settled on him. “If I am to just ‘let it go’,” she said, using his words awkwardly, and shaking, “Then there will be nothing left. Not of me; not of her.” She had grown to hate the body of Winifred Burkle, Spike realised, in the time that she had inhabited it. Naught but the love for that which was gone had she faced since her own rebirth into this world. This was her way of saying to him that if she was gone, then he would be left completely, utterly alone.
“I cannot hold this form much longer,” Illyria said. “Each day I feel it like to a burnt out muscle that shall move no more. When I lived, we used to put a nightmare out of its misery when it could inspire fear no further. Would you do the same to me?”
Spike’s eyes narrowed. This was a game that was being played. A dangerous one. “What you’re asking is a lot. I don’t know if you fully realise…”
“You will do this for me!” Illyria commanded him. Her facade did not last long; even she knew she had not the power to command any longer. “You must,” she said, defeated. She felt him laughing at her, as surely they must all now.
As he bit into her, he pondered abstractly how it became his to take these less than sane to his side. Drusilla had been his sire in the beginning. Perhaps at the end, this was nothing more than second chance.