Post by Hellbound Hyperion on Nov 21, 2009 18:44:43 GMT -5
* Title: ALICE THE VAMPIRE SLAYER: Prologue (Three Blind Mice)
* Pairing/Characters: Gunn, Illyria, Alice (original character)
* Summary: Gunn and Illyria shepherd a newly-awoken Slayer after a particularly vicious night.
* Rating: PG-13
* Warnings: Drug references galore, also plenty of cursing
* Disclaimer: Joss is Boss. David Greenwalt is also boss for helping with ANGEL, but his name doesn't rhyme with "boss" so I don't really have a catchy thing for him. Anyway, Alice is my character, not theirs, but the rest of them are theirs.
* Author's Note: This story was originally written for a SlayAlive Scribes Writing Challenge, #6 - Outsider's Perspective. As such, the emphasis here is on Gunn and Illyria, not Alice, but the beginning of their relationship will play a role in Alice's story in the stories to come. Thanks to all the people who posted feedback on the SA Scribes challenge about my story. Thanks to Emmie for inspiring me to do this via her own epic fic series, Thought You Should Know. Here comes Alice!
Three Blind Mice
“…not tossing her back out on the streets, Illyria.”
“She was being chased by vampires. There could be a nest nearby. She is not safe while she is here. We cannot waste resources protecting her.”
“And she’s safer on the streets, on the run? And since when did you care whether a human being other than me or Wesley lived?”
“…”
***
Whatever I’m lying on, it sucks. Seriously, isn’t furniture supposed to be, I dunno, comfortable?
Ugh… head still woozy, but I think I can… yes! I can sit up! It’s a glorious day! It-
“Nice armpits.”
Drats. Cover up, quick cover up!
“You’ve been out all morning, it’s almost two in the afternoon.” And it’s squeaky, too. Who is this bozo, and why can’t he buy a decent couch? “Name’s Gunn. Charles Gunn.”
“I’m… uh, Alice. I’m Alice.” He’s handsome. Except for that head – I’m sorry, I mean round mirror. “So I guess you’re my knight in shining armor today, huh?”
“Hardly.” Ice-cold bitch voice. Shit, that’s scary, I’d swear the room just got twenty degrees cooler. “Charles has faced many demons before, but large clusters of vampires still cause him many bruises.” Giant bandage on forehead: check. He’s still pretty, at any rate. “You, on the other hand, are a human weapon.”
“Wait, me? Ohh no no, couldn’t have been me! I was-“ Swallow and tell the truth to the nice lady now. “-doped.
And now he’s chuckling and shaking that bald head. “Nice try, but I’ve known a few druggies in my time – ain’t none of them flipped whole trash bins onto a group of vamps.”
“…Bullshit.” Turn off confrontation. Turn on confusion.
“Not. You ever heard of a Slayer?”
***
“You are consuming an excessive amount of water for a human your size.”
Kitchen Decorating Advice by Alice: water-spit all over the wall in horror because Ice Queen has snuck up behind you. The neighbors will love it! “Jesus, woman, you scared the shit outta me!”
“You’ll live. Why are you consuming so much of our water?”
Man, those eyes are freaky. It’s like she’s staring into my fucking brain. And yet… “Gotta lotta drugs in my system, plus a few beers. Water’s best I got to help me come down.”
She tilts her head to the side. God, that’s freaky. Got the feeling any minute she’ll throttle me good and dead. “You are an addict.”
“So what if I am?”
“You are also a disappointment?”
That’s another water-spit moment. Gunn told me a bit about her, but… this is just weird. “Uh… whaddya mean?”
“To your fellow humans. To the ones you call ‘family’. Gunn and I” – she switched names again – weirder and weirder… – “have spent the past few weeks slaving away against a seemingly eternal wave of villainous humans in an effort to purge my kingdom of impure souls. The drug users are often alone, or lonesome, and surrender willingly like cowards. But we do not know any Slayers who are cowards. So – you are a disappointment.”
Gotta get away from her. “Yeah, maybe… but so are you.” I seen it in his eyes – Gunn loves and hates her. It. Whatever. The details are a bit swimmy at the moment. But he told me. “He wishes you were-“
“Fred. I know.” And she looks away. I think that’s the first time I’ve ever seen a hint of emotion on her face. Is it… sadness? Grief? Pity? Can’t tell, not staying to find out. I just drank a shit-ton of water and I have to piss.
***
Man, that head is really bald. Oh, come on Alice, keep it together!
“Hey. Wanna take a scamper down the rabbit-hole with us tonight?”
“Uh, what?”
He’s chuckling again. I’m surprised he doesn’t have the nickname Chuckles. “You wanna go hunt some trouble with me and Illyria tonight? Maybe I can show you how to properly stake a vamp this time. Pretty sure you got lucky with that old wooden box last night.”
Luck… understate me some more. I barely even remember last night. “I don’t… I mean… I have plans.”
“Really? ‘Cause you don’t look the kind of girl who has plans. Or much of anything, really.”
Swing to anger, but not too quickly – gotta gain some ground here. “Oh yeah? Whaddya know about not having much of anything?”
“Hm, let’s see…” Uh-oh. That tone. Snarky. My ex-girlfriend used that tone all the time. And here comes the condescension. “I was raised in the ‘hood of a city commonly confused with Hell, then got sired by a gang of vamps when the city really was Hell, and now I’m living with my guilt in at least three different literal and metaphorical ways. Half my friends are dead, the other half are… famous. I’m as empty as the blue turtle shell in the next room when it comes to soul, which by the way is my birth right, so please, enlighten me on the ways of nothing!”
“Oh, yes, let’s boo-hoo at your ability to forge connections! I’ve had 20 SOs in the past two years – drug addicts, therapists, and older men with lots of money and a side-door escort service. I live in abandoned apartment complexes and cardboard boxes and feed myself as well as I can each day, and then you come and tell me I’m some kind of a Superwoman and that I’m destined to fight vamps and demons or whatever and ask me to join you like it’s nothing because it IS, it’s all just a big series of NOTHINGS!
***
Why, in the name of any unholy gods that devour humanity, is he smiling?
“’Bout time you opened up. I wasn’t gonna bring you anyway. You’ve got places to be.” He hands me a flyer. Some dorky kids on the cover and a title: The Slayer. “His name is Andrew. Her name is Buffy. They can help you figure things out.” At the door, his bald head turns back. “Oh, and… leave the needles.”
* Pairing/Characters: Gunn, Illyria, Alice (original character)
* Summary: Gunn and Illyria shepherd a newly-awoken Slayer after a particularly vicious night.
* Rating: PG-13
* Warnings: Drug references galore, also plenty of cursing
* Disclaimer: Joss is Boss. David Greenwalt is also boss for helping with ANGEL, but his name doesn't rhyme with "boss" so I don't really have a catchy thing for him. Anyway, Alice is my character, not theirs, but the rest of them are theirs.
* Author's Note: This story was originally written for a SlayAlive Scribes Writing Challenge, #6 - Outsider's Perspective. As such, the emphasis here is on Gunn and Illyria, not Alice, but the beginning of their relationship will play a role in Alice's story in the stories to come. Thanks to all the people who posted feedback on the SA Scribes challenge about my story. Thanks to Emmie for inspiring me to do this via her own epic fic series, Thought You Should Know. Here comes Alice!
Three Blind Mice
“…not tossing her back out on the streets, Illyria.”
“She was being chased by vampires. There could be a nest nearby. She is not safe while she is here. We cannot waste resources protecting her.”
“And she’s safer on the streets, on the run? And since when did you care whether a human being other than me or Wesley lived?”
“…”
***
Whatever I’m lying on, it sucks. Seriously, isn’t furniture supposed to be, I dunno, comfortable?
Ugh… head still woozy, but I think I can… yes! I can sit up! It’s a glorious day! It-
“Nice armpits.”
Drats. Cover up, quick cover up!
“You’ve been out all morning, it’s almost two in the afternoon.” And it’s squeaky, too. Who is this bozo, and why can’t he buy a decent couch? “Name’s Gunn. Charles Gunn.”
“I’m… uh, Alice. I’m Alice.” He’s handsome. Except for that head – I’m sorry, I mean round mirror. “So I guess you’re my knight in shining armor today, huh?”
“Hardly.” Ice-cold bitch voice. Shit, that’s scary, I’d swear the room just got twenty degrees cooler. “Charles has faced many demons before, but large clusters of vampires still cause him many bruises.” Giant bandage on forehead: check. He’s still pretty, at any rate. “You, on the other hand, are a human weapon.”
“Wait, me? Ohh no no, couldn’t have been me! I was-“ Swallow and tell the truth to the nice lady now. “-doped.
And now he’s chuckling and shaking that bald head. “Nice try, but I’ve known a few druggies in my time – ain’t none of them flipped whole trash bins onto a group of vamps.”
“…Bullshit.” Turn off confrontation. Turn on confusion.
“Not. You ever heard of a Slayer?”
***
“You are consuming an excessive amount of water for a human your size.”
Kitchen Decorating Advice by Alice: water-spit all over the wall in horror because Ice Queen has snuck up behind you. The neighbors will love it! “Jesus, woman, you scared the shit outta me!”
“You’ll live. Why are you consuming so much of our water?”
Man, those eyes are freaky. It’s like she’s staring into my fucking brain. And yet… “Gotta lotta drugs in my system, plus a few beers. Water’s best I got to help me come down.”
She tilts her head to the side. God, that’s freaky. Got the feeling any minute she’ll throttle me good and dead. “You are an addict.”
“So what if I am?”
“You are also a disappointment?”
That’s another water-spit moment. Gunn told me a bit about her, but… this is just weird. “Uh… whaddya mean?”
“To your fellow humans. To the ones you call ‘family’. Gunn and I” – she switched names again – weirder and weirder… – “have spent the past few weeks slaving away against a seemingly eternal wave of villainous humans in an effort to purge my kingdom of impure souls. The drug users are often alone, or lonesome, and surrender willingly like cowards. But we do not know any Slayers who are cowards. So – you are a disappointment.”
Gotta get away from her. “Yeah, maybe… but so are you.” I seen it in his eyes – Gunn loves and hates her. It. Whatever. The details are a bit swimmy at the moment. But he told me. “He wishes you were-“
“Fred. I know.” And she looks away. I think that’s the first time I’ve ever seen a hint of emotion on her face. Is it… sadness? Grief? Pity? Can’t tell, not staying to find out. I just drank a shit-ton of water and I have to piss.
***
Man, that head is really bald. Oh, come on Alice, keep it together!
“Hey. Wanna take a scamper down the rabbit-hole with us tonight?”
“Uh, what?”
He’s chuckling again. I’m surprised he doesn’t have the nickname Chuckles. “You wanna go hunt some trouble with me and Illyria tonight? Maybe I can show you how to properly stake a vamp this time. Pretty sure you got lucky with that old wooden box last night.”
Luck… understate me some more. I barely even remember last night. “I don’t… I mean… I have plans.”
“Really? ‘Cause you don’t look the kind of girl who has plans. Or much of anything, really.”
Swing to anger, but not too quickly – gotta gain some ground here. “Oh yeah? Whaddya know about not having much of anything?”
“Hm, let’s see…” Uh-oh. That tone. Snarky. My ex-girlfriend used that tone all the time. And here comes the condescension. “I was raised in the ‘hood of a city commonly confused with Hell, then got sired by a gang of vamps when the city really was Hell, and now I’m living with my guilt in at least three different literal and metaphorical ways. Half my friends are dead, the other half are… famous. I’m as empty as the blue turtle shell in the next room when it comes to soul, which by the way is my birth right, so please, enlighten me on the ways of nothing!”
“Oh, yes, let’s boo-hoo at your ability to forge connections! I’ve had 20 SOs in the past two years – drug addicts, therapists, and older men with lots of money and a side-door escort service. I live in abandoned apartment complexes and cardboard boxes and feed myself as well as I can each day, and then you come and tell me I’m some kind of a Superwoman and that I’m destined to fight vamps and demons or whatever and ask me to join you like it’s nothing because it IS, it’s all just a big series of NOTHINGS!
***
Why, in the name of any unholy gods that devour humanity, is he smiling?
“’Bout time you opened up. I wasn’t gonna bring you anyway. You’ve got places to be.” He hands me a flyer. Some dorky kids on the cover and a title: The Slayer. “His name is Andrew. Her name is Buffy. They can help you figure things out.” At the door, his bald head turns back. “Oh, and… leave the needles.”