Spike (
idolpire) wrote in
riverviewlogs2017-06-15 02:32 am
Open - AU Event
who: Spike and whomever
what: AU event - Spike has a soul and is a little crazy because of it
when: 15-24 June
where: His crypt, the abandoned city, alleys in Quarantine.
warnings: Spike is going to be going through some 'stuff' with regaining his soul for this event and will have been tormented by a canon evil for months beforehand, so he'll be semi-lucid to completely off his rocker. This will involve language, mentions of violence and things he's done in the past, self flagellation/self harm, possibly sexual propositions (easily turned down), and unpredictable reactions from him.
In Town - Resouled:
[It happens while he's in town on the evening of the fifteenth. He'd opted to show up for work that night, wanting to see what all the fuss was about and whether or not he could pull it off, or if he wanted to. Heading into the market to pick up something to eat, he felt it. Felt as if he was lifted up off the ground, then turned upside down and tossed around like a rag doll. Images flooded his mind, time passed that he didn't remember. Moments involving the bane of his existence, then a searing, blinding pain that had him dropping to the ground in an aisle, both hands to his head as he struggled with memories and pain. It wasn't the chip. It couldn't be. He hadn't even been thinking about hurting anyone. No, the pain was deeper, moving into the core of him. His hands scrabbled under his shirt, clawing at his chest as if he could get it out. With the pain and confusion came the realization of what it was. What had happened.
Buffy. Sunnydale. The pair of them. Her death. Her resurrection. Them. That moment in the bathroom -- nausea from that, then... the trials. That bloody demon. The burning pain of his soul. Oh. Oh, god no. No. Months in the basement of the new highschool. Months of memories of reliving all his sins, of an evil power whispering things into his ear to drive him mad.
Then reality shifted and he was there, back on that place he'd found himself in, on the ground with the shop keeper coming over to ask him if he was well.]
Not well. Not ever well again. It burns.
In Town - Lost:
[There wasn't the same power here to whisper in his mind, but the damage had been done. Spike finally left the market, wandering out into the city, confused about what was reality and what was all the noise and clutter in his head. A part of him was trying to tell him he had a place here, somewhere to go where it was quiet, but it was hard to hear that part over all the other things clamoring for attention in his mind.
For the next few days/nights, Spike could be found in town in a worsening state. During the day, he might find himself down in the sewer, or windowless rooms or places that would let him stay safe from the sun. He'd be ignoring the device tucked in his pocket, and might be found at any point of the day/night talking or yelling to himself. There's also a possibility of him hurting himself or bearing visible attempts at it. He'll have moments of lucidity that will get longer the longer he's away from The First Evil.]
Home:
[Eventually, he'll remember where he's staying and wind up going there. Anyone who knows where he lives or follows him home will easily find him holed up as he tries to figure out how to exist with a soul now. All in all, Spike's going to be a pathetic wreck of a loser for the rest of this event.]
[Note: As this event will deal with self harm and questionable topics, please let me know what you are or are not comfortable dealing with. I'm available via PM to hash out the specifics.
what: AU event - Spike has a soul and is a little crazy because of it
when: 15-24 June
where: His crypt, the abandoned city, alleys in Quarantine.
warnings: Spike is going to be going through some 'stuff' with regaining his soul for this event and will have been tormented by a canon evil for months beforehand, so he'll be semi-lucid to completely off his rocker. This will involve language, mentions of violence and things he's done in the past, self flagellation/self harm, possibly sexual propositions (easily turned down), and unpredictable reactions from him.
In Town - Resouled:
[It happens while he's in town on the evening of the fifteenth. He'd opted to show up for work that night, wanting to see what all the fuss was about and whether or not he could pull it off, or if he wanted to. Heading into the market to pick up something to eat, he felt it. Felt as if he was lifted up off the ground, then turned upside down and tossed around like a rag doll. Images flooded his mind, time passed that he didn't remember. Moments involving the bane of his existence, then a searing, blinding pain that had him dropping to the ground in an aisle, both hands to his head as he struggled with memories and pain. It wasn't the chip. It couldn't be. He hadn't even been thinking about hurting anyone. No, the pain was deeper, moving into the core of him. His hands scrabbled under his shirt, clawing at his chest as if he could get it out. With the pain and confusion came the realization of what it was. What had happened.
Buffy. Sunnydale. The pair of them. Her death. Her resurrection. Them. That moment in the bathroom -- nausea from that, then... the trials. That bloody demon. The burning pain of his soul. Oh. Oh, god no. No. Months in the basement of the new highschool. Months of memories of reliving all his sins, of an evil power whispering things into his ear to drive him mad.
Then reality shifted and he was there, back on that place he'd found himself in, on the ground with the shop keeper coming over to ask him if he was well.]
Not well. Not ever well again. It burns.
In Town - Lost:
[There wasn't the same power here to whisper in his mind, but the damage had been done. Spike finally left the market, wandering out into the city, confused about what was reality and what was all the noise and clutter in his head. A part of him was trying to tell him he had a place here, somewhere to go where it was quiet, but it was hard to hear that part over all the other things clamoring for attention in his mind.
For the next few days/nights, Spike could be found in town in a worsening state. During the day, he might find himself down in the sewer, or windowless rooms or places that would let him stay safe from the sun. He'd be ignoring the device tucked in his pocket, and might be found at any point of the day/night talking or yelling to himself. There's also a possibility of him hurting himself or bearing visible attempts at it. He'll have moments of lucidity that will get longer the longer he's away from The First Evil.]
Home:
[Eventually, he'll remember where he's staying and wind up going there. Anyone who knows where he lives or follows him home will easily find him holed up as he tries to figure out how to exist with a soul now. All in all, Spike's going to be a pathetic wreck of a loser for the rest of this event.]
[Note: As this event will deal with self harm and questionable topics, please let me know what you are or are not comfortable dealing with. I'm available via PM to hash out the specifics.

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[Well. Color Spike impressed. Somewhat.]
Now, is this 'the' Devil, or 'a' Devil. Bit of a difference, you know. And as for demons... well. There's every shade of the evil-bow to choose from there.
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[She was talking to a vampire about her Satanic partner as if this was all perfectly normal. What has her life come to.]
And yeah, well. This particular shade was my roommate, so, apparently that's a Hell I crafted for myself.
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[A little of his old self peeked through there, eyes rolling where she couldn't see it behind the blanket.]
I see that hasn't changed much, eh? No matter the world, we make our own worst Hell.
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[She couldn't see his eyeroll, but she heard his disdainful tone well enough. A smile touched her lips despite herself.]
It could be worse.
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[Other than Angel being here, which, soul or not, he'd still try to stake the wanker if he wound up showing his stupid brooding bulging foreheaded self.]
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[He spoke from experience, Chloe. Maybe you should listen to him.]
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Not for me. I've got a daughter who needs me. "Living properly" is me being there for her.
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[Huh. She seemed young to him, but then again, he'd never really had a good handle on ages entirely. When you live past a certain date, it just all muddled together.]
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[Perhaps there was a tinge of amusement in her tone as she glanced over at him.]
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[And, you know, there's that part that genuinely wanted to help him.
But at the direct question, she frowned.]
No. She's not.
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[It wasn't quite the same as living on a Hellmouth, but when you lived in a small city on a moon that spat random people and things out from other realities, they had to be used to the oddness of it all.]
Mm. If you had hackles, they'd be up by now.
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[Well, he certainly seemed to be regaining enough lucidity to prod at her. She let out a small exhalation to convey her displeasure, though she attempted to reign in her more negative feelings.]
It's not exactly something I'm thrilled about, no. Who would be?
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[He couldn't help it, Chloe. He may have his soul, but a hundred years built up habits.]
Some. Knew some parents that couldn't wait to get away from the noise. The bother. Knew some that couldn't stand being away. Humans come in all types.
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[And yes, well. He wasn't wrong. She's met some bad parents in her time as well. Had been raised by a pretty immature one herself, though Penelope Decker was hardly the worst.]
Yeah, you're not wrong there. Let's just say I'm hoping to get back home as soon as possible and leave it at that.
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[His mum hadn't been the pillar of motherhood, Chloe. He knew what it was to be smothered.]
Good on you. I knew a lovely mum once. She's gone now. Pity. She made a good cup of tea.
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[She can't help but glance back over at him; something in his tone seemed the change. Or maybe it's the matter-of-fact way he says the woman is gone now.]
She an old friend of yours?
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[They were just tolerated or killed outright. Though, Joyce had always gone just a little further than tolerating him and he felt that reminder that he'd felt bad when she'd passed. Before he'd gotten his soul back.]
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[Whoever this woman was, he seemed to care about her enough to miss her. Like that Buffy woman.
They weren't far from the station now, but the sun still skirted the horizon, having not quite set all the way yet. She turned abruptly to tug the blanket down further over his head as they walked. Purely for his protection, of course.]
We're almost there.
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Not really sure of much at the moment. Still not sure why you're being so helpful.
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Plus... if you were still here by day time, that wouldn't be good for you, would it?
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[He shrugged the blanket up a little higher, blowing a wisp of smoke out of his face as the fabric, and he, smoldered.]
Been here in the day. There's always a hole or two. Or I could flip a can over and hide under it. Shadows are good. Been around long enough to stay around, you get me?
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[There's an edge to her voice there, an obvious displeasure at his comment. She's met her fair share of crappy cops on power trips before, but it never ceases to anger her. Gives a bad name to all of them.]
I do. But if there's an option between hiding in a hole or dumpster until the sun sets and getting a way to where you're staying, I'd take the latter option anytime.
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[He'd been the reason for a lot of them himself, but that was... well. A lifetime ago, it seemed.]
Humans generally do. The whole concept of 'home' really sticks with you lot.
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