Comments | scorched_logs: [closed : i'd like to laugh at all the things that led me on somehow the stigma still remains]

girl_unlocking in scorched_logs

[closed : i'd like to laugh at all the things that led me on somehow the stigma still remains]

Mar 21, 2011 22:44

Who: samianscar & girl_unlocking
When: Just after this conversation.
Where: The alley of horror.
Format: Action.
What: Dawn's had some changes. Knows some things about Spike.
Warnings: Angst. Language. Tears. Bitchiness?

( Here the memories come in waves / Raking in the lost and found of years )

spike, dawn summers

Comments 10

samianscar March 22 2011, 05:03:21 UTC

[Tough. A rustle of leather down a fire escape ladder, followed by a clumnpkh of boots hitting asphalt, and he's standing a few feet away from her. He starts forward and stops at the edge of the blood spatter. For whatever reason: Lilly's influence of not wanting to further disturb the scene, general instinct trying to take it all in… or sensing the wall suddenly between them.]

girl_unlocking March 22 2011, 18:08:33 UTC

[She looks up. Knows him by the whooshclumnpkh before he hits ground. There are whooshers, even clumnpkhers here, but none have that particularly recognizable combination that's tethered itself to her subconsious.

Whatever. That's not the issue.

The issue is, for the moment, the dark, questioning and fairly accusatory look she gives him before breaking the silence.]

What are you doing? Why are you back here?

[Making me face you. Making me talk to you. You're going to make me ask you and (not now Spike) I don't want to know.]

samianscar March 23 2011, 04:36:11 UTC

[blinks at her, incomprehension rendering him flippant]

Well… probably something to the tune of you may not want be alone at a murder scene-no, you may want to, but maybe shouldn't; with a theme of it's of someone we both liked, and a chorus of it's a murder scene, in the city where such things tend to go in rounds.

[Are they falling into patterns? And is he being Buffy in them?!]

girl_unlocking March 28 2011, 02:51:03 UTC

[Still staring. Less of a glare, but just as intense. She stands up (yeah, she's gained a few inches in this last day. Looks a little different around the edges. Maybe familiar, maybe not.]

I'm fine.

[Looks down. Blood on her shoes. No. Looks back up.]

And I'm not really in the mood for a chorus, or a tune, or any kind of spontaneous musical combustion [yeah, she remembers that now. Interesting, maybe, because she didn't before.]. Unless it's instrumental. Maybe a solo, huh?

Thread 10