(no subject)
I sat down on the big, weird but cool, circular couch thing in the lobby and sighed. Angel was evil? I knew he could turn evil if he had a perfect moment of happiness, or at least someone told me that, but....with no body that shouldn't have been an issue. And now, the most vivid and good memory I had from my former life was out running the streets killing people for fun.
I looked up at Spike and Wesley yelling at one another, at Doyle standing around feeling as uncomfortable as Cordelia must have felt on the stairs and I felt out of place. Yes, Doyle had been dead a lot longer than me, but he retained his soul and the essence of who he was. I didn't. I was flapping int he breeze like an old tattered rag that someone tossed away.
I felt so disjointed and wrong here that I wanted to shove past Wes and Spike, run out the doors and become someone else. Someone who wasn't expected to be this or that or something else. Someone who wasn't called a boy's name, for crying out loud.
I glanced up at them and mentally chastised myself. I could have it a lot worse. I could still be dead with no hope of starting again. And even if I didn't know my place, I could friggin make one for myself. I stood up and looked at Wesley and Spike and cleared my throat, "So, boys, what's the game plan? Do we go out and hunt Angel like Steve Irwin or do we wait here and yell at each other some more to see who's more British?"
I looked up at Spike and Wesley yelling at one another, at Doyle standing around feeling as uncomfortable as Cordelia must have felt on the stairs and I felt out of place. Yes, Doyle had been dead a lot longer than me, but he retained his soul and the essence of who he was. I didn't. I was flapping int he breeze like an old tattered rag that someone tossed away.
I felt so disjointed and wrong here that I wanted to shove past Wes and Spike, run out the doors and become someone else. Someone who wasn't expected to be this or that or something else. Someone who wasn't called a boy's name, for crying out loud.
I glanced up at them and mentally chastised myself. I could have it a lot worse. I could still be dead with no hope of starting again. And even if I didn't know my place, I could friggin make one for myself. I stood up and looked at Wesley and Spike and cleared my throat, "So, boys, what's the game plan? Do we go out and hunt Angel like Steve Irwin or do we wait here and yell at each other some more to see who's more British?"