he waits in the wings, he's gotta play the part; trouble is a friend of mine
"That's why I've decided to make my power, our pow-..."
Buffy turns, expecting to see a living room full of determined, terrified, and partially battered teenage girls all looking up at her as she gives one last pep-talk before the toughest battle they've all yet to face. Instead, she sees... trees. An open, green landscape. Complete with topiary and a big honking fountain. Sidewalks. People.
This can't be normal. "... -er."
This can't be happening, she reassures herself. She's probably blacked out or something. She's actually passed out on her living room floor. Or perhaps some demon or other has cast an illusion to try and separate her from the Potentials. An agent of the First. Remembering where she'd been standing just moments prior, she moves in the direction of where her kitchen would otherwise be. She feels where familiar walls would normally stand. Tangible reality often breaks that of hallucinated non-reality, she's learned over the years. But there's nothing. Only air.
'Confused' doesn't even begin to cover it. Neither does 'irritated'. Her hands tighten on the Scythe, and she narrows her eyes as she looks around. There doesn't seem to be anything hostile here. Nothing's trying to attack her. Nothing's trying to eat her, trying to suck her into the ground, or otherwise trying to make her not exist anymore. So just what is happening, here?
She takes a few tentative steps forward, face screwing into a very displeased expression as her boot hits sidewalk and she makes her way slowly toward what appears to be civilization. For some reason, based on the weather and the landscape, she knows this isn't California. It's definitely not Sunnydale. It's not L.A. It's nowhere she's ever been before, and it's really starting to get on her nerves.
But really, what can she do, besides wander (a little aimlessly) until she sees someone who looks like they might know what they're doing?
Buffy turns, expecting to see a living room full of determined, terrified, and partially battered teenage girls all looking up at her as she gives one last pep-talk before the toughest battle they've all yet to face. Instead, she sees... trees. An open, green landscape. Complete with topiary and a big honking fountain. Sidewalks. People.
This can't be normal. "... -er."
This can't be happening, she reassures herself. She's probably blacked out or something. She's actually passed out on her living room floor. Or perhaps some demon or other has cast an illusion to try and separate her from the Potentials. An agent of the First. Remembering where she'd been standing just moments prior, she moves in the direction of where her kitchen would otherwise be. She feels where familiar walls would normally stand. Tangible reality often breaks that of hallucinated non-reality, she's learned over the years. But there's nothing. Only air.
'Confused' doesn't even begin to cover it. Neither does 'irritated'. Her hands tighten on the Scythe, and she narrows her eyes as she looks around. There doesn't seem to be anything hostile here. Nothing's trying to attack her. Nothing's trying to eat her, trying to suck her into the ground, or otherwise trying to make her not exist anymore. So just what is happening, here?
She takes a few tentative steps forward, face screwing into a very displeased expression as her boot hits sidewalk and she makes her way slowly toward what appears to be civilization. For some reason, based on the weather and the landscape, she knows this isn't California. It's definitely not Sunnydale. It's not L.A. It's nowhere she's ever been before, and it's really starting to get on her nerves.
But really, what can she do, besides wander (a little aimlessly) until she sees someone who looks like they might know what they're doing?