(no subject)
Who: Spike, anyone in Zero who wants to show up.
What: Spike's suicidal attempt to annoy the Aztecs into killing him, and maybe letting some people escape in the process.
Where: Zero
When: Nighttime.
Warnings: Violence, British swearing.
Spike was no one's sacrificial lamb. He wasn't afraid of dying. It had happened to him three times at this point, though the third had only been for a few minutes before the time loop had reset. And here, he knew he wouldn't stay dead.
He looked down at his Item, the little green character on the screen dying repeatedly. He knew that whatever Elphaba had tried to do, it hadn't worked. He'd get her back. But he'd still failed her. And she could wait until he was somewhere he could take care of her to come back, dammit. He wasn't going to let her come back just to die again.
And now, he had to get out somehow. Maybe he could get some other people escape as well. And he could make himself bloody useless as a sacrifice. The upside of turning to dust upon death. He'd go out fighting or not at all.
With that in mind, he spread the word that there might be a good distraction coming up if anyone needed a chance to escape, then he shifted into his vampire face. He didn't have any weapons, and he didn't need one. Fists and fangs, that was the way to fight. All he really needed, in the end.
He walked up to the Aztecs guarding the door more or less casually. They didn't seem to notice anything amiss, greeting him as politely as ever. Spike smiled and nodded back, then grabbed the closest one lightning fast and sunk his fangs into his neck. The blood coursed through his veins, making him feel powerful in a way he hadn't felt since the last time he'd killed a Slayer. He'd been on nothing but pig's blood for so long, he'd forgotten what it was like straight from the body.
Not that he could let himself dwell on how good it felt. Especially when strong hands were reaching to pull him off. Spike let the body drop. He doubted it would stay down for long, though hell, maybe exsanguination was the way to kill him. He wouldn't count on it, though, and there were more that he had to deal with. He wasn't worried, though. His blood was on fire, in the good way.
He lashed out in a flurry of punches, kicks, and bites, snapping this one's neck, kneeing that one in the groin, shoving his fist into this one's chest and ripping out the heart... he hadn't let loose this much since that last battle in Sunnydale, and even that had been cut short by a certain amulet finishing the job for him.
Finally, he stood victorious and covered in blood. "RUN!" he shouted, then circled his enemies, waiting for them to get back up. Already he could hear more swarming to help their fallen comrades. He'd take out as many as he could, but that might end up being none. He couldn't afford to look and see who, if anyone, was making it out. The warriors were getting up, it was time to keep fighting. To go and go until he felt a sharp pain in the back of his neck, then crumpled away into dust.
He smiled as he went down. Somehow, he still felt like he had won.
[ooc: Okay, Spike obviously will not be replying to any threads, but if anyone wants to attempt to use this post to try and escape, well, they'll have a hard time of it since there's a staircase to climb and a swarm of Aztec warriors showing up. They can also notice/react to Spike fighting/dying, or to the whole heart ripping out thing, since that warrior ain't getting back up. Have at it!]
What: Spike's suicidal attempt to annoy the Aztecs into killing him, and maybe letting some people escape in the process.
Where: Zero
When: Nighttime.
Warnings: Violence, British swearing.
Spike was no one's sacrificial lamb. He wasn't afraid of dying. It had happened to him three times at this point, though the third had only been for a few minutes before the time loop had reset. And here, he knew he wouldn't stay dead.
He looked down at his Item, the little green character on the screen dying repeatedly. He knew that whatever Elphaba had tried to do, it hadn't worked. He'd get her back. But he'd still failed her. And she could wait until he was somewhere he could take care of her to come back, dammit. He wasn't going to let her come back just to die again.
And now, he had to get out somehow. Maybe he could get some other people escape as well. And he could make himself bloody useless as a sacrifice. The upside of turning to dust upon death. He'd go out fighting or not at all.
With that in mind, he spread the word that there might be a good distraction coming up if anyone needed a chance to escape, then he shifted into his vampire face. He didn't have any weapons, and he didn't need one. Fists and fangs, that was the way to fight. All he really needed, in the end.
He walked up to the Aztecs guarding the door more or less casually. They didn't seem to notice anything amiss, greeting him as politely as ever. Spike smiled and nodded back, then grabbed the closest one lightning fast and sunk his fangs into his neck. The blood coursed through his veins, making him feel powerful in a way he hadn't felt since the last time he'd killed a Slayer. He'd been on nothing but pig's blood for so long, he'd forgotten what it was like straight from the body.
Not that he could let himself dwell on how good it felt. Especially when strong hands were reaching to pull him off. Spike let the body drop. He doubted it would stay down for long, though hell, maybe exsanguination was the way to kill him. He wouldn't count on it, though, and there were more that he had to deal with. He wasn't worried, though. His blood was on fire, in the good way.
He lashed out in a flurry of punches, kicks, and bites, snapping this one's neck, kneeing that one in the groin, shoving his fist into this one's chest and ripping out the heart... he hadn't let loose this much since that last battle in Sunnydale, and even that had been cut short by a certain amulet finishing the job for him.
Finally, he stood victorious and covered in blood. "RUN!" he shouted, then circled his enemies, waiting for them to get back up. Already he could hear more swarming to help their fallen comrades. He'd take out as many as he could, but that might end up being none. He couldn't afford to look and see who, if anyone, was making it out. The warriors were getting up, it was time to keep fighting. To go and go until he felt a sharp pain in the back of his neck, then crumpled away into dust.
He smiled as he went down. Somehow, he still felt like he had won.
[ooc: Okay, Spike obviously will not be replying to any threads, but if anyone wants to attempt to use this post to try and escape, well, they'll have a hard time of it since there's a staircase to climb and a swarm of Aztec warriors showing up. They can also notice/react to Spike fighting/dying, or to the whole heart ripping out thing, since that warrior ain't getting back up. Have at it!]