Faithbot - 1 of 5
So here's a story that's been kicking around in my head for a zillion years. It was supposed to be a thing deep in season two of my Buffybot series, but as that got derailed, and I occasionally get bored with the style and format of said series, I decided to resurrect this idea and do it on its own, solo. I'm greatly enjoying the old notion of writing something shorter and non-epic, and just posting the damned thing. Been too long. PS, anyone know any good comms to post this in?
TITLE: Faithbot - Origin - Part 1 of 5
RATING: PG-13, I think...
NOTES: Set in the alternate universe of THE WISH. Multi-parter.
Faithbot
Origin
Part One of Five
Junk. There was junk in her head. She couldn’t think, so hard to think...
Why was she alive? Dead, she was supposed to beERROR//ERROR///101/101<
“AAAHH!”
She fell forward, pain searing through her head where she should be feeling nothing, nothing at all. Should have been dead, WANTED to be dead...she was a Slayer, and that’s what Slayers do. They Slay, and they Die. Especially in THIS town...Slayers die in Sunnydale.
The floor was cold, concrete, room dark...where..? She held herself up with two arms, but only one hand could feel the cold. Both eyes open, she knew it, but only one could see the cracks in the dusty floor. And her head was filled with junk.
So hard to think, to remember...what DID she remember? She was...she was the Slayer, yes, and she wanted to be dead. But why couldn’t she think, why couldn’t she...
101/101=ACCESSING FILES//SUN/SLAY/001///
FULL REPLAY NOW? ...
The junk in her head started talking to her now, and a horrible chill ran down what was left of her spine.
What the Hell did they DO to me..?
********
“Faith. It’s good to meet you, I’m...”
“You’re Giles,” Faith said, interrupting with a smirk and a swagger, her greatest weapons since long before she was Chosen, “...yeah, my Watcher back home gave me the skinny. Dig the accent. So what’s the what, G-Man? Hear you’ve had some rough times around this burg.”
The Watcher, who from the looks of him had watched far more than he ever wanted to in this life, pulled the glasses from his face and leaned back. They were in his home...his ‘flat’, he’d called it. Faith liked that.
“Rough times...yes, you could certainly say that. Faith, just what exactly DID your previous Watcher tell you...about Sunnydale?”
Faith shrugged, still playing unimpressed. “Small town, one Starbucks, lots of vamps, maybe something about the mouth of Hell..? I was only half-listening, I’ll be honest...”
“Well listen now,” Giles said, more emphatically this time, “...You’ll be the third Slayer in Sunnydale in as many years. Did you at least hear what happened to the other two..?”
Faith stood straighter. “Dead,” she said, “...yeah. I heard about that. What happened?”
Sadness sprang into the Watcher’s eyes, but he ignored it. “A vampire, simply called The Master...centuries old and possessing enormous power. He’d set up shop near the Hellmouth, practically ruled the bloody town. Buffy hadn’t arrived yet, and...”
Faith kicked herself for the involuntary laugh. “Sorry! Sorry, I just...seriously, ‘Buffy’?”
Giles glowered. “If you’re done..?”
Faith raised her hands in acquiescence, accepting the misstep. Still...Buffy?
“The Master had simply become too entrenched, too powerful,” Giles lamented, cringing at the memory of that day, “...she arrived too late, wouldn’t WORK with us...”
“Us?”
“A few of the locals, we...I gathered them together, to do what we could, in the Slayer’s absence. You’ll meet them later...the ones who are left. Sort of a civilian militia, you might say.”
“You know I love me a good militia,” Faith noted, “...but you were working your way towards a really horrible plot twist..?”
“The Master killed her,” Giles said simply, shoulders slumping, “...we hurt him, and his operation, a little, but...”
Giles choked on the words, and Faith started to feel noticeably uncomfortable. “I’ve trained to be a Watcher the better part of my life, Faith,” he admitted, or confessed, “...and within 24 hours of taking charge of a Slayer, I got her killed. That’s what you’re being sent into, here.”
Faith gave the Watcher a confident smile. “I can take care of myself, G-Man,” she assured him, “...point me at this ‘Master’ creep, and we’ll do some serious...”
“The Master is dead,” Giles told her, cutting off what she’d been hoping would be an inspiring line of braggadoccio, “...it happened last year.”
“...oh. Well, that works too. Guess Buffy’s replacement finished the job, then? Go Team Slayer. What was her name?”
Faith waited, hoping THIS name wouldn’t provoke the giggles. “Kendra,” Giles told her, “...Kendra was her name. And no, she didn’t kill the Master. She helped in the struggle, of course, but...”
“It was somebody else?” Faith was kind of surprised...she knew how tough SHE was...figured even this Buffy had to be almost as badass, goofy name or no. “That’s a twist...who’s tougher than a Slayer?”
Rupert Giles shook his head. “Not ‘tougher’, exactly,” he tried to explain, “...just much, much worse...”
********
ERROR//ERROR///101/101<
POWER SURGE//MEMORY DRIVE FAILURE///PLEASE STAND BY//....
Faith screamed again, falling to the concrete as her arms gave way like someone had cut her strings. Jolts of pain ran through her brain, the junk shattering her thoughts. Her head struck the ground, and the sound it made was the wrong, wrong sound, not wet and sick like it should have been. It was clinical, loud. It did not hurt.
PLEASE STANDBY//
the junk shouted at her again as she struggled to stand...
STAND BY///SUGGEST DIAGNOSTIC CYCLE FOR DEBUGGING///
“No, no, no, nononononoNO!!” The sound of her voice echoed terribly in the dark room. She needed to think...she needed to remember, remember what had happened. Why was she here? Why was this...what was this STUFF in her head? She wasn’t like that...she wasn’t junk, she wasn’t...she was the Slayer!
She needed to remember. She needed to remember why it was so important that she be dead. If that meant...TALKING, to the junk in her head...then okay. She could do that.
A single tear welled up in Faith’s left eye, and she balled her hands into fists. Although she could only feel the one.
“Kendra,” she whispered, and started looking through the junk, for the memory that would lead her forward. To the end.
TO BE CONTINUED...
TITLE: Faithbot - Origin - Part 1 of 5
RATING: PG-13, I think...
NOTES: Set in the alternate universe of THE WISH. Multi-parter.
Faithbot
Origin
Part One of Five
Junk. There was junk in her head. She couldn’t think, so hard to think...
Why was she alive? Dead, she was supposed to beERROR//ERROR///101/101<
“AAAHH!”
She fell forward, pain searing through her head where she should be feeling nothing, nothing at all. Should have been dead, WANTED to be dead...she was a Slayer, and that’s what Slayers do. They Slay, and they Die. Especially in THIS town...Slayers die in Sunnydale.
The floor was cold, concrete, room dark...where..? She held herself up with two arms, but only one hand could feel the cold. Both eyes open, she knew it, but only one could see the cracks in the dusty floor. And her head was filled with junk.
So hard to think, to remember...what DID she remember? She was...she was the Slayer, yes, and she wanted to be dead. But why couldn’t she think, why couldn’t she...
101/101=ACCESSING FILES//SUN/SLAY/001///
FULL REPLAY NOW? ...
The junk in her head started talking to her now, and a horrible chill ran down what was left of her spine.
What the Hell did they DO to me..?
********
“Faith. It’s good to meet you, I’m...”
“You’re Giles,” Faith said, interrupting with a smirk and a swagger, her greatest weapons since long before she was Chosen, “...yeah, my Watcher back home gave me the skinny. Dig the accent. So what’s the what, G-Man? Hear you’ve had some rough times around this burg.”
The Watcher, who from the looks of him had watched far more than he ever wanted to in this life, pulled the glasses from his face and leaned back. They were in his home...his ‘flat’, he’d called it. Faith liked that.
“Rough times...yes, you could certainly say that. Faith, just what exactly DID your previous Watcher tell you...about Sunnydale?”
Faith shrugged, still playing unimpressed. “Small town, one Starbucks, lots of vamps, maybe something about the mouth of Hell..? I was only half-listening, I’ll be honest...”
“Well listen now,” Giles said, more emphatically this time, “...You’ll be the third Slayer in Sunnydale in as many years. Did you at least hear what happened to the other two..?”
Faith stood straighter. “Dead,” she said, “...yeah. I heard about that. What happened?”
Sadness sprang into the Watcher’s eyes, but he ignored it. “A vampire, simply called The Master...centuries old and possessing enormous power. He’d set up shop near the Hellmouth, practically ruled the bloody town. Buffy hadn’t arrived yet, and...”
Faith kicked herself for the involuntary laugh. “Sorry! Sorry, I just...seriously, ‘Buffy’?”
Giles glowered. “If you’re done..?”
Faith raised her hands in acquiescence, accepting the misstep. Still...Buffy?
“The Master had simply become too entrenched, too powerful,” Giles lamented, cringing at the memory of that day, “...she arrived too late, wouldn’t WORK with us...”
“Us?”
“A few of the locals, we...I gathered them together, to do what we could, in the Slayer’s absence. You’ll meet them later...the ones who are left. Sort of a civilian militia, you might say.”
“You know I love me a good militia,” Faith noted, “...but you were working your way towards a really horrible plot twist..?”
“The Master killed her,” Giles said simply, shoulders slumping, “...we hurt him, and his operation, a little, but...”
Giles choked on the words, and Faith started to feel noticeably uncomfortable. “I’ve trained to be a Watcher the better part of my life, Faith,” he admitted, or confessed, “...and within 24 hours of taking charge of a Slayer, I got her killed. That’s what you’re being sent into, here.”
Faith gave the Watcher a confident smile. “I can take care of myself, G-Man,” she assured him, “...point me at this ‘Master’ creep, and we’ll do some serious...”
“The Master is dead,” Giles told her, cutting off what she’d been hoping would be an inspiring line of braggadoccio, “...it happened last year.”
“...oh. Well, that works too. Guess Buffy’s replacement finished the job, then? Go Team Slayer. What was her name?”
Faith waited, hoping THIS name wouldn’t provoke the giggles. “Kendra,” Giles told her, “...Kendra was her name. And no, she didn’t kill the Master. She helped in the struggle, of course, but...”
“It was somebody else?” Faith was kind of surprised...she knew how tough SHE was...figured even this Buffy had to be almost as badass, goofy name or no. “That’s a twist...who’s tougher than a Slayer?”
Rupert Giles shook his head. “Not ‘tougher’, exactly,” he tried to explain, “...just much, much worse...”
********
ERROR//ERROR///101/101<
POWER SURGE//MEMORY DRIVE FAILURE///PLEASE STAND BY//....
Faith screamed again, falling to the concrete as her arms gave way like someone had cut her strings. Jolts of pain ran through her brain, the junk shattering her thoughts. Her head struck the ground, and the sound it made was the wrong, wrong sound, not wet and sick like it should have been. It was clinical, loud. It did not hurt.
PLEASE STANDBY//
the junk shouted at her again as she struggled to stand...
STAND BY///SUGGEST DIAGNOSTIC CYCLE FOR DEBUGGING///
“No, no, no, nononononoNO!!” The sound of her voice echoed terribly in the dark room. She needed to think...she needed to remember, remember what had happened. Why was she here? Why was this...what was this STUFF in her head? She wasn’t like that...she wasn’t junk, she wasn’t...she was the Slayer!
She needed to remember. She needed to remember why it was so important that she be dead. If that meant...TALKING, to the junk in her head...then okay. She could do that.
A single tear welled up in Faith’s left eye, and she balled her hands into fists. Although she could only feel the one.
“Kendra,” she whispered, and started looking through the junk, for the memory that would lead her forward. To the end.
TO BE CONTINUED...