Chess pieces. Batch 1: Canon
...well, canon except for Nº3 and Nº7, which are post-TV series and yet not comic-based. Not as far as I know, anyway.
This set makes a lot more sense if you know how the chess pieces move in a game.
pawn
At her return, he questioned Kendra about her experiences in Sunnydale, and was satisfied. There was no loss of focus, neither did she ask impertinent questions about the obvious differences between his own methodology and that of the younger Giles. She continued the behavioral pattern he encouraged, one that would keep her alive beyond her Cruciamentum - as the only Slayer, probably. Otherwise he’d need to take her far away to avoid that the other girl slipped Rupert’s grasp and reached Kendra in warning.
Not that she’d know how to succumb to subordination, but there was no point in tempting her.
rook language warning
“You know,” she told her sister. “I’ve decided I’ll blame the stupid f-fucking monks.” The swearing was new, but Buffy couldn’t chastise her. “I mean, I’m this big prize, right? And they made a little girl who can’t put up a decent fight?”
But they’d made a little sister; that made all the difference. They must have studied Buffy, played with her emotions, until they knew that the Slayer - the older sister - would tuck their Key into safety and come out herself to fight the battle, to sacrifice herself in exchange.
“They killed you,” Dawn finished. “I’m glad they’re dead.”
knight (1)
Buffy might be the first among the Slayers, the one with countless victories under her bright-red, ultra-fashionable little belt, but damn... seventeen or twenty-seven, that girl was a dull one. “Come, B.,” Faith prodded, maintaining eye contact with an interested pretty boy. ”We’re here, he’s here. Why not?”
Buffy rolled her eyes, ignoring Faith’s advance across the dance floor.
Half an hour later, shaking the pretty boy’s dust from her jacket, Faith returned to her seat. “Worst pick-up lines ever. Next time, I’ll be the helpless damsel. Here -” she slipped the stake in Buffy’s purse. “You can borrow my sword.”
knight (2)
After a century survived by sheer doggedness and an impulsive streak that befuddled any potential pursuer, Spike decided that he might as well continue in the same vein, chip notwithstanding.
He just wasn’t made to be stopped by adversity. The hardships that would box others in, or swallow them into nothingness, were obstacles that he must learn to jump. Being stuck as second in Drusilla’s favor, having a mob after his blood, recuperating in a wheelchair…All of that, he’d moved on from. The bloody piece of modernity inserted in his brain was a nuisance…
…but damned if it’d stop him.
bishop/s
Willow wondered how they’d become friends. He’d made her laugh when he was around, and blush when he was not. She’d baked cookies for him, and scolded as he copied her homework.
…and that had been enough?
It must have been.
Those kids hadn’t cared about their differences; hadn’t thought to compare their backgrounds or their ambitions. They’d followed different paths, sometimes coming close to present a unified front, sometimes attacking the problem from different angles. Always fighting for a common goal, yet they’d never used the same means.
They’d complemented each other. They still did.
Yes. It’d been enough.
queen
Angel worried. Buffy had hesitated with that second fledging. The first one had gone straight at him, and she hadn’t even pouted at the dismissal. She must be exhausted. “Want a break?”
Normally, she would have teased that he only wanted to make out. This time she leaned heavily against his arm. “Maybe later.”
He kissed her hair. He so wanted to protect her, this girl who’d been made their best warrior, and who stretched herself far too thin in her duty. “I can finish here,” he offered.
But she straightened and shook her head.
Angel sighed. He’d expected that.
king
Buffy wasn’t sure whether this Apocalypse had followed them to her doorstep, or if it’d been coming anyway and they’d raced it to help her. Either way, she was glad.
Or she would be, once they stopped bickering.
“We’re supposed to save the world, not fight over the microwave. Don’t you get tired of such nonsense?”
Angel looked embarrassed. Spike laughed outright.
“Don’t you get tired? Yes, we’re saving the world. Again. When the world does little to save itself. That’s nonsense.”
“If we lose the world, we lose everything.”
Spike eyed Angel grumpily. “Should’ve known you’d side with her.”
This set makes a lot more sense if you know how the chess pieces move in a game.
pawn
At her return, he questioned Kendra about her experiences in Sunnydale, and was satisfied. There was no loss of focus, neither did she ask impertinent questions about the obvious differences between his own methodology and that of the younger Giles. She continued the behavioral pattern he encouraged, one that would keep her alive beyond her Cruciamentum - as the only Slayer, probably. Otherwise he’d need to take her far away to avoid that the other girl slipped Rupert’s grasp and reached Kendra in warning.
Not that she’d know how to succumb to subordination, but there was no point in tempting her.
rook language warning
“You know,” she told her sister. “I’ve decided I’ll blame the stupid f-fucking monks.” The swearing was new, but Buffy couldn’t chastise her. “I mean, I’m this big prize, right? And they made a little girl who can’t put up a decent fight?”
But they’d made a little sister; that made all the difference. They must have studied Buffy, played with her emotions, until they knew that the Slayer - the older sister - would tuck their Key into safety and come out herself to fight the battle, to sacrifice herself in exchange.
“They killed you,” Dawn finished. “I’m glad they’re dead.”
knight (1)
Buffy might be the first among the Slayers, the one with countless victories under her bright-red, ultra-fashionable little belt, but damn... seventeen or twenty-seven, that girl was a dull one. “Come, B.,” Faith prodded, maintaining eye contact with an interested pretty boy. ”We’re here, he’s here. Why not?”
Buffy rolled her eyes, ignoring Faith’s advance across the dance floor.
Half an hour later, shaking the pretty boy’s dust from her jacket, Faith returned to her seat. “Worst pick-up lines ever. Next time, I’ll be the helpless damsel. Here -” she slipped the stake in Buffy’s purse. “You can borrow my sword.”
knight (2)
After a century survived by sheer doggedness and an impulsive streak that befuddled any potential pursuer, Spike decided that he might as well continue in the same vein, chip notwithstanding.
He just wasn’t made to be stopped by adversity. The hardships that would box others in, or swallow them into nothingness, were obstacles that he must learn to jump. Being stuck as second in Drusilla’s favor, having a mob after his blood, recuperating in a wheelchair…All of that, he’d moved on from. The bloody piece of modernity inserted in his brain was a nuisance…
…but damned if it’d stop him.
bishop/s
Willow wondered how they’d become friends. He’d made her laugh when he was around, and blush when he was not. She’d baked cookies for him, and scolded as he copied her homework.
…and that had been enough?
It must have been.
Those kids hadn’t cared about their differences; hadn’t thought to compare their backgrounds or their ambitions. They’d followed different paths, sometimes coming close to present a unified front, sometimes attacking the problem from different angles. Always fighting for a common goal, yet they’d never used the same means.
They’d complemented each other. They still did.
Yes. It’d been enough.
queen
Angel worried. Buffy had hesitated with that second fledging. The first one had gone straight at him, and she hadn’t even pouted at the dismissal. She must be exhausted. “Want a break?”
Normally, she would have teased that he only wanted to make out. This time she leaned heavily against his arm. “Maybe later.”
He kissed her hair. He so wanted to protect her, this girl who’d been made their best warrior, and who stretched herself far too thin in her duty. “I can finish here,” he offered.
But she straightened and shook her head.
Angel sighed. He’d expected that.
king
Buffy wasn’t sure whether this Apocalypse had followed them to her doorstep, or if it’d been coming anyway and they’d raced it to help her. Either way, she was glad.
Or she would be, once they stopped bickering.
“We’re supposed to save the world, not fight over the microwave. Don’t you get tired of such nonsense?”
Angel looked embarrassed. Spike laughed outright.
“Don’t you get tired? Yes, we’re saving the world. Again. When the world does little to save itself. That’s nonsense.”
“If we lose the world, we lose everything.”
Spike eyed Angel grumpily. “Should’ve known you’d side with her.”