Thirty years on, and she's still a Slayer.
Thirty years on, and she's still a Queen.
She's a mother, an aunt, a grandmother, a sister, a wife, and of all the things she's gotten used to being over the years, the one thing she thought she would never be again is a patron of Milliways.
But here she is, and despite the icon she's much as she was
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Faith was NEVER THAT TALL.
Okay, the envy's passed now.
"I'll pass, thanks. Behold your future," she says, with a little smile. "Not bad for almost sixty years old, huh?" She prowls around herself, still inhuman in her grace of movement. "Damn, I almost forgot how nice it was when nothing sagged....I was never as tall as you, though."
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Offering a hand: "Name's Chainsaw. What's yours, liveling?"
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Handshake is had.
Faith's got quite a grip for a chick in her sixties.
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Chainsaw's not bad with the grace of movement, herself.
Ten thousand years and some naturally predatory tendencies will do that, and she's had time enough to adjust to the whole being-female thing.
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"Close enough."
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She perks up.
"Is there sex? There's always sex."
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