"I go in and kill the vampire dog guarding the entrance." -Eric
"And PETA protests." -Julie L

"Opa and Max have made a vampire free zone." -Brandon
"Of evil!" -Julie W

"What's your major? Pre-Evil." -Mer
"Michigan Pre-Evil." -Julie L.

"A vampire becoming ensouled is so far-fetched, especially in Sygil's vampirocracy." -Mer

"We blew all our budget on special effects and that's why the writign sucks this session." -Mer

"You see a bright glowy hole, and a bright glowy Stansbridge." -Mer
"It's a 'glowyhole'." -Julie L.

"He was head-butting me in the ass! It's got to be better than what you were thinking about!" -Mer
"If I say yes, will you stop talking about it?" -Brandon

"If you're not going to actually use the combat rules, can I read them?" -Eric

"Anyway, come rescue me, bitches!" -Julie L.

"I'll be back. There's a portal... I can't give you an ETA..." -Cronos
"Because he's a time demon. -Brandon

"He falls down, spitting and frothing... it's Tobilepsy." -Dann

Eric calculates Sygil's dodge...
"Thirty." -Eric
"Oh, he dodges." -Mer
"A dramatic moment spoiled by math." -Dwinn

"We start slinking away." -Julie W.
"Hey, this fight isn't a foregone conclusion!" -Gabe
"No, but if we stay here we will be." -Mel

"October is standing on her feet." -Mer
"As opposed to her hands?" -Julie W. and Lisa, in unison

Hmm. Maybe Max isn't the only one with evil potential...

What Will Your Life Be Like In The Buffyverse? by chobit_kyo
Name
Who Is In Love With You?	caleb
Whats Your Job?	lacky
Who Is Your Best Friend?	caleb
Who Will You Sleep With?	wesley
Who Will Want To Kill You?	cordelia
Created with quill18's MemeGen 2.0!

Date:	2004-01-29 16:23
Subject:	The future's not so bright...
Security:	Public
Mood:	anxious

Lovely. Tobey's idea of evil fashion sense is truly evil, but not, I think, in the way she intended.

Obviously, there are a few things that need attention when (you'll note the optimism) we return home: 1) Start training Tobey in hopes of avoiding her (and my) current fate. 2) Have a little talk with Max about the whole turning evil thing. 3) Have a talk with Charity about appropriate expressions of grief, which do not include getting yourself eaten by vampires.

Also, get Sir Winterthorn's whiny soul OUT OF MY HEAD. It's like I'm trapped in a high mass liturgy. And while I find the high mass in Latin quite lovely, not so much when it never ever ends.

NtS: Hats. Definitely time to go hat shopping.

</i>On blinded future-Stansbridge...</i>
"So basically I'm Stansbrdge." - Dann
Everyone looks puzzled.
"Stansbridge with no 'i'." -Dann

"And the sun sets." -Mer
"Shit. I'll get another rock." -Brandon

"And he's done. Pushes you aside and walks off." -Mer
"Max feels cheap." -Julie L.

"Nothing helps torture along like cookies." -Julie L.

"Another benefit of being evil - better bladder control." - Evil Tobey

"What would you have done to [Charity]?" -Julie L.
"Sword. Gut. Explosions." -Eric
"In that order." -Brandon

"Another bonus of being evil? No one can shut me up now! - Evil Tobey

"She has no people skills." -Brandon
"And this translates into poking babies?" -Julie L.

On graveyards...
"You [Evil Tobey] were never buried!" -Mer
"I embrace the cultural traditions of my kind." -Julie L.

On research...
"It's hard to do without the Grad!" -Mer
"Without the Grad?" -Dann
"It blew up!" -Mer
"When?" -Dann
"Like four episodes ago." -Eric
"The whole thing?" -Dann

Date:	1994-11-27 17:00
Subject:	Take two
Security:	Public
Mood:	blah

Yes. Well. Starting from scratch. Joy.

Have lost years worth of research with immolation of my and Mum's diaries. Am sending recommendation to Council to upgrade all Watchers with personal computers to avoid similar incidents in future. Save early save often.

Now imagining the peals of laughter when they read said request. Will save myself the postage and humiliation. Have certainly had enough of that lately.

NTS: try nail polish remover.

Backfill entry on Mel's torture date with Sygil

I remember my childhood in fragments: sounds, sights, and smells all broken into discrete moments with very little to link them together. I like it that way; it's easier to take the memories I don't want and wrap them up and hide them deep and far away, where they only come out in dreams and I can pretend that they aren't real, that they happened to someone else.

I'm good at that. Pretending.

At least, I thought I was.

I can't wrap all this up anymore. Every time I tuck one thing away, something else slips out. I stand in front of the mirror and I can't pretend that this is happening to someone else when it's written, carved, right there on my skin.

And that's the worst part because there are things you never want to remember. The sound of bone breaking, of muscle tearing. Your father's voice rising, sobbing out the Latin protective chants he once used to sing you to sleep while something horrible pulled out his insides. Your mother's blood dripping down the door of the closet where you were hiding, hand shoved in your mouth so they wouldn't hear you crying.

You never want to remember the glimpses you got through the crack in the door - flashes of black and red in the light from the desk lamp, tilted on its side where it had fallen when your mother had jumped up and pushed you into the closet after the demons broke through the wards on the ground floor.

You never want to remember the smell. Oh, God, the smell.

And you can't, you can't remember the hours you sat there after everything went quiet. You can't, because you think if you do you'll curl back up into that little ball and you'll never come out. You have to pretend that happened to someone else, some other little girl who sat there for hours until the stench made her retch and her legs cramped and when no one came, opened the door.

I stand in front of the mirror and I can't pretend it happened to someone else. I know, logically, intellectually, that there was nothing I could do, that I did what every nine year old would have done, but logic and intellect aren't the ones that opened that door, that closed their eyes just a second too late and will never ever forget what a human body looks like when it's spread across a room.

And it scares me that Sygil saw all that in me so easily, that he saw that little girl who I thought I had forgotten.

When Edward was in my head, murmuring in Latin, appealing to his God for comfort, I couldn't stop hearing my father's broken voice and I wanted to scream that it wasn't fair, that he didn't deserve that comfort when he'd made me remember and the pain from October's knife was still fresh on my skin.

And it isn't fair, but that's how life is and I know that better than most. I stand in front of the mirror and I stare at the word on my brow and I whisper the words my father never finished and I know what I have to do. I won't let Sygil turn Toby and I won't abandon Charity and I won't let Max take that dark path. I won't pretend that little girl isn't me anymore.

I'm not useless.

NTS: Pick Max's for what he got on sword during loops.

Hey, look, Cronos! Reasearch on him matches description of weird guy in Charity's dream. Motivations? Specific intent in catching us in loop, or just screwing with us for fun? Any relation to previous blanket spell effects (truth spell, Halloween debacle)?

Potential test - outsmarting demons to break loop. Doesn't apparently want to kill us outright, so what does he want us for? And can we use that to work on the potential slayers problem. Make a deal? NTS: talk to PS about making contact

Also, check with Rackham about getting out of this GEO thing.

from fax (dated 11/6/94, marked urgent)-

WtB? Sygil or Spike? Or maybe Angelus? Not likely.

After elixir in box. Assuming its the day as night one, and not the vision-inducing one. Need to talk to Gabe ASAP.

Sygil. Bad. Very bad. Sir Edward Winterthorn, Knight Templar. Sired during Crusades (~24 years old). Came home, stayed in power. Mentions uprising that toppled him frompower but didn't kill him. Details of uprising blacked out. NTS: check historical accounts, and if no luck, call Council library

Took name of Sygil (when? after uprising? how long? when did he reappear?) after undergoing some form of ritual. NTS: fax mentions potential link to Elysian Msyteries - check and see if any recorded information on EM matches the symbology on Sygil


And the big question. Who is this Morpheus, and why is he giving me this information? Is he connected to the people who took the box and planted the vials for Gabe and Tobey to find? Was that random to get rid of them before Sygil found it, or were Gabe and Tobey specifically targeted? Why them? NTS: Background check on Gabe? Also, watch for potential side effects of elixirs

Morpheus. Obvious connection to Greek mythology. More modern connotations - group (evil?) who use the names of Greek deities. Hephestus. Cronos (demon/human hybrid. temporal manipulation. Preacher Mike says he's in town).

Nothing on my mystery dream guy, though.

Backfill entry on researching Sygil

Backfill entry about "Edwina" and finding the box.

Angelus. Old. Evil. Now ensouled and angsty and stalking my Slayer. Wonderful.

Seems rather obsessed with the missing potentials. Talk to Prof. S.?

Eta Beta Lambda situation more or less under control.

Hellmouth situation not so much, but Oriel okay. I think.

"I always thought we'd be friends forever."
" Yeah, well, forever got a lot shorter suddenly, didn't it?" --St. Elmo's Fire


I found myself in front of her apartment again. The police are long gone, but there's yellow tape across the door. It was getting dark, but I just stood there. I wanted to say something to Max, earlier. Something comforting. But the words got stuck. Hey, I'm sorry your mom died, even though you already thought she was dead.
If you can't say something nice...

Then the streetlights came on, and I walked away.

I didn't want to go to my apartment, where I'd just sit in the dark and remember more dead things. And I couldn't go back to Charity. Not yet. She doesn't want to listen. And right now, neither do I. I want to shake her and shout at her. Tell her that I know she's going to die and that I'm going to help her. Warn her about what's out there with the colors and smells and sounds that I can't forget. Hate her because she doesn't know how bad it really can be yet and thinks it's all just about her dying.

And she's right. And so am I. But in the grand scheme of things, it really doesn't matter.

I thought I could be her friend and her Watcher. That I could ignore generations of tradition and remake the world how I thought it should be. That's we'd make something different, make a difference.

I'd also like to think my mother didn't raise a fool, but I'm not sure that's right anymore, and she's not here to care anyway.

I'm afraid. Afraid that I can only seem remember them as screams and blood and shards of bone and wet dark bulges spread across the carpet. Afraid that if I try to be Charity's friend, that every time I look at her all I'll see is the pieces. I remember my dream, but it's different. I push her and she falls, because that's what I'm supposed to do. Teach her everything she needs to shatter at the bottom.

I sat on the library steps for a while. The Diag was at least familiar, and I could pretend it was safe if I kept to the pools of light from the buildings. I think I pretend a lot. And why not? I live in a world that most people don't believe, I've seen things most people don't even know how to imagine.

So it shouldn't be hard to get up, go back and keep pretending.

But it is.

"I didn't spend all them years playing D&D and not learn a little
something about courage..." --Some Dork, The X-Files

To Do Today

- grade summary essays
- call financial aid about fellowship
- defeat evil


You know, no matter how long I do this job I don't think the ooginess factor of half-decayed demon corpse will ever diminish.

The smell alone....

Anyway, on to better, or at least better-smelling, things.

So, mystery of Dolor demon solved. Check. Location of Dolor demon pinpointed. Check. Plan to defeat Dolor demon...

Well, nobody died, so I have to count it as a rousing success. Okay, so Max's kind of scary and evil grandfather has escaped with his finger, and I'm sure that won't be a good thing in the long run, but hey, we're not superheroes.

I kind of feel like we need to some sort of post-game deconstruction of the fight, but since I spent an embarrassing portion of it quivering in fear, maybe not. But I do feel vindicated about one thing – not to belittle Charity's abilities, but it wouldn't have turned out nearly as well if we hadn't had the whole group.

Tradition survives because it gives a foundation, but you have to build on it with something new to keep it alive. I don't care what the Council thinks, bringing Max and Gabe and the girls into this was a good idea, and I'm damned proud of all of them.

Haven't been sacked. V. surprised. Have foreknowledge of my death. V. useful. Have my own Slayer. V. entertained.

Expecting world to end any minute now.

It was surprisingly easy to stand there and tell jolly old QT what I'd done. Why is it that I'm less bothered about what he thinks than what the Professor thinks?

Oh yes. I actually still have some measure of respect for Professor Stansbridge.

I sometimes think my mother would be horrified at how I've turned out. While a woman of her own mind, she wasn't exactly a radical. Or at least she was much more polite and proper about it. It was never a question that I would follow the family tradition and become a good little Watcher.

Of course, she probably figured she'd still be here.

I'm a little uneasy about being made Charity's Watcher. Not because of her - she's great, and I think we'll mesh well personality wise – but because I worry that my, ahem, issues with the Council will affect her, too.

And then there's that whole bit about both of us dying that Tobey and Oriel brought back from the future.

But I'm not dwelling. Forewarned is forearmed. I just hope it's not like one of those movies where by trying to change the future you inadvertently cause the very event you were trying to stop.

Nope. Not dwelling. Really.

That's it. I'm disconnecting my phone.

Seeing too much potential for Charity to claim that since a Watcher's job is to watch, I should take charge of the little body-swappers, I grabbed Max and we made our escape.

Okay, maybe that was cruel, but dear God, there was no way I would have been able to keep from killing those kids, and I don't think either Oriel or Tobey would appreciate it much when we manage to get this sorted out.

Besides, it was good experience for Charity. Really.

So far I've managed to keep the Professor apprised of what's going on without admitting what I've admitted. No, I don't regret telling them, but I'm not stupid.

Well, except for not telling him about the ritual...

"Perhaps it was something I said." -Londo
"Perhaps it is everything you say." -G'Kar


Oh bloody hell.

A large part of my problem has always been that I can't keep my big mouth shut. I usually don't need any help in that regard. So, of course, the one time I want to keep quiet, I am compelled t do just the opposite.

I am thoroughly convinced the Powers That Be are having far too much fun at my expense.

So, Zach is dead, Tobey asks too many questions, and Max knows something is going on with Charity, and I am probably going to end up shelving books inthe Archives for the rest of my career. We need to kill Zach, hopefully I can just ignore Tobey, and I think I can keep Max in the dark a bit longer, but eventually the little house of cards we've built is going to blow away in the stiff breeze of reality. But I'm wondering if that isn't wholly a bad thing. I've pretty much put my foot in it by letting Max know as much as I have. And if I don't keep an eye on him, he'll probably just end up getting himself killed. Granted, that would solve the problem, but I do kinda take that whole "protecting the mundane" thing to heart.

Oy. I'd ask if it could get any worse, but I so know better. Yes, Universe, see the big target on my back that says, "Smite Me"?

My Slayer not exactly cracking under the pressure, but she sure isn't all fluffy-bunny happy either. Can't wait to take her out for her first patrol. I'm sort of glad that we didn't find Zach, since I'm pretty sure staking her former hall-mate wouldn't do much for her state of mind. Then again, the lessons closest to home are sometimes the ones we take to heart. It would have been harsh, but it would wake her up to just how bad things can get. How nothing is really sacred in this world.

Okaayyy. Been hanging around dour uptight people in tweed for way too long.

Mr. Pink: Is it bad?
Mr. White: As opposed to good? -Reservoir Dogs

NTS – On the 1-10 scale of Very Bad Ideas, that just might have hit infinity. But, I guess it all works out in the end. Imminent disaster was averted - Max is okay (though the jury's still out on poor Opa), Charity's been clued in, and the Professor hasn't killed me. yet.

Sad to say, but that makes it a really good day.

Max seems okay since the Very Bad Idea. I haven't slept much, but I've sort of been able to keep an eye on him while helping with Charity's training. I sort of feel responsible for him, I guess.

The nightmares are back. Different, though. I haven't had one like that first one before. She's never spoken to me in my dreams. What was it she said? "Where there's one, there's more."

I'd like to think it doesn't mean anything, but I know better.

My mother never gave me the crap about "there's no such thing as monsters." Given her line of work, it would have made her a hypocrite. No, I was quite aware from a very young age of just what could be lurking under my bed.

You'd think that would make it easier, what happened to her, to Dad. But it doesn't. It makes it worse.

I couldn't pretend it hadn't happened, couldn't pretend it was all some child's nightmare. Knowing the things I know takes away the comfort of denial.

I envy Charity for that. She's starting to believe, starting to realize the world isn't quite the safe place she'd thought, but she really has no idea yet. She can still pretend, still balanced on that edge of rational disbelief.

I'm going to hate watching her fall.

Locator spell worked. Fate obviously hates me. Possible Slayer candidates none other than some of my students. The ones who almost walked in on a vampire attack. The ones who witnessed a demon attack. The ones who now think I'm some sort of mad scientist lackey. Gee thanks, Professor S.!

Max could be a problem. He's got an actual clue, and was attacked by Dolor Demon – feeds off fear, pain and sadness. Often attracted to one person or one bloodline. Bad. Very bad. Have to figure out how to keep Max in one piece on top of figuring out which of the girls is the Slayer without tipping off the others or convincing Gabe to call the police on me.

Do I get extra credit for this?

******

Rubbing my eyes, I shoved the Malthlis Codex aside and dragged myself back into the stacks for something more useful. I'd washed my hair four times, but it still smells like mayonnaise. Ugh.

Max was still buried in a pile of books. Poor kid. Getting a relative's body parts in the mail will pretty much ruin your weekend. And it complicates things. Granted, I'm the last person who has any right to complain about complicating things, but I never said I had a problem with hypocrisy.

Frankly, I should just let him deal with this on his own and concentrate on the Slayer, but he came to me for help, and hell, I remember what it's like to lose the only people in your life.

Yes, I do have 'sucker' tattooed across my forehead.