TM Challenge: Spirit
Being at a funeral is one of those inexpressible weird things. It made Oz want to dye his hair or let the wolf out just a little or turn it up to 11. But, more than that, it made him really want to live the little piece of life that he had laid claim to. Not in that cheesy pioneer way or anything, but just utilizing attention to his surroundings.
Living in Sunnydale the world had almost ended several times, so he was used to that. Apocalypses were just one of those inherent things when living on a hellmouth. It was interesting, actually, how funerals were different. Concrete, set in reality with a sort of hardness that was could be difficult to push past the fanfare of demons and vamps.
Instead of going back to Tucker and Warren’s after Cordelia’s service, Oz just walked. And walked. After brushing past nameless people and old brick buildings, he saw laid out before him was the Granary Burying Ground, marked with giant plaques to all the famous buried there.
He was not in front of Cheers or something, so that was an upside to the situation. He wasn’t really in the mood to be in a place where everybody knew his name.
Remembering some scrap of history that must have invited itself in during high school, he thought of A.C. Lyons. It is a fine thing to die in Boston, were the exact words. Fourth period history had finally gotten all useful-y. Looking over the cemetery and its fancy tomb stones, he pretty much got what Lyons was talking about.
The plaques of histories of dead white men filled him in on who was buried there- he wondered if any of their spirits hung around there. If spirits hung around at all. He wasn’t so clear on that. What was up with the word spirit anyway? Like “school spirit” usually didn’t refer to someone haunting a school. A noun versus a state of being. From enthusiastic loyalty to possible animation of an animal, spirit was one of those loaded words.
Did Paul Revere just hang out here living him moment of glory over and over? Was he a spirit with spirit who was in the spirit with a spirit in his hand?
Oz shrugged his shoulders and turned to head back to the land of couch surfing and gin. Sometimes the English language just didn’t make sense.
Fandom: BtVS
Muse: Danny "Oz" Osbourne
Word Count: 393
Living in Sunnydale the world had almost ended several times, so he was used to that. Apocalypses were just one of those inherent things when living on a hellmouth. It was interesting, actually, how funerals were different. Concrete, set in reality with a sort of hardness that was could be difficult to push past the fanfare of demons and vamps.
Instead of going back to Tucker and Warren’s after Cordelia’s service, Oz just walked. And walked. After brushing past nameless people and old brick buildings, he saw laid out before him was the Granary Burying Ground, marked with giant plaques to all the famous buried there.
He was not in front of Cheers or something, so that was an upside to the situation. He wasn’t really in the mood to be in a place where everybody knew his name.
Remembering some scrap of history that must have invited itself in during high school, he thought of A.C. Lyons. It is a fine thing to die in Boston, were the exact words. Fourth period history had finally gotten all useful-y. Looking over the cemetery and its fancy tomb stones, he pretty much got what Lyons was talking about.
The plaques of histories of dead white men filled him in on who was buried there- he wondered if any of their spirits hung around there. If spirits hung around at all. He wasn’t so clear on that. What was up with the word spirit anyway? Like “school spirit” usually didn’t refer to someone haunting a school. A noun versus a state of being. From enthusiastic loyalty to possible animation of an animal, spirit was one of those loaded words.
Did Paul Revere just hang out here living him moment of glory over and over? Was he a spirit with spirit who was in the spirit with a spirit in his hand?
Oz shrugged his shoulders and turned to head back to the land of couch surfing and gin. Sometimes the English language just didn’t make sense.
Fandom: BtVS
Muse: Danny "Oz" Osbourne
Word Count: 393