action + joint post ✪ out of some sentimental gain -- i wanted you to feel my pain

[herotypical]

[ buffy and spike have been out a-missioning -- only it hasn't gone quite as...merrily as they might have hoped. you see, they’re back a little early. spike decided to make an escape attempt and, in doing so, he’s brought malnosso justice down on both their heads. it’s all terribly unfair.

their punishment? one doozy of a bodyswap. spike is buffy and buffy is spike. and neither of them are too pleased about it.

sartre once claimed that 'hell is other people'; however, a situation like this makes a convincing argument that hell is, in fact, being other people. after they argue their way out of a proverbial wet paper bag and manage to find better clothing than the new feather garb they're initially given, they'll be available (throughout the next few days) to be mocked or sympathized with or awkwardly avoided all around town, depending on the individual.

find top comments below for either buffy's thread or spike's thread or -- if you’re looking for a thread with both of them -- buffy and spike. buffy’s tags will come from deadhero and spike’s tags will come from heroatypical. please don’t hesitate to tag all three options if that’ll float your boat. ]

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[ BUFFY AND SPIKE (AND MAYBE YOU TOO) ]

[herotypical]

[ after their pair’s initial fuss and frustration, feel free to run into them as they journey their way back home -- probably while stumbling along one of the village paths.]

[SPIKE ONLY]

[heroatypical]

[On the evening of the 24th, Spike wanted nothing more than to stay out of sight and be generally miserable about the turn of events. Which meant locking himself away in his room and finding himself with a deep longing for a radio or something he could blare. He’s just glad he has no mirrors in his room. It’s bad enough having a reflection now. But seeing the woman he loves staring back every single time is too much.

However, on the morning of the 25th, Spike decides enough sulking is enough. The rays of sunshine filtered by his curtains are too tempting, so he steps outside to soak up the sunshine. It’s pretty exhilarating and nothing like when he used a magical ring to resist sunlight. He could feel it on his skin. Or, rather, Buffy’s skin. As a consequence, he makes a point of going around the town soaking up the sun, not bothering with the insides. Of course, he opts to wear his usual black coat, even it’s too long for Buffy’s body.

This keeps up on the 25th and 26th. He’s become a creature of the day, spending his time out doors, save for visits to Good Spirits in the evening time. For the rest of the world, it looks like a rather sulky Buffy wearing her typical fashions, drowned out by a black jacket that drags at the ground.]

[ action ; locked to spike ]

[deadhero]

The last thing she remembered was someone -- or something? -- roughly taking hold of her after Spike had attempted his daring impression of one Hary Houdini. And after that there had been a shock of discomforting (but not hellish) pain and then blackness. Unconsciousness. Time flooded by without any way to mark it, until now. She groaned and -- ugh, her voice was pitched lower. Likely, she thought, from disuse.

So she rolled over and felt twigs and late-summer fallen leaves snap under her shoulders. Her...bare shoulders. Well. That wasn’t right. Buffy sat up all at once and with her heart gripped with worry. It was almost as if it had stopped beating.

But she blearily opened her eyes and tried to focus on the forest space around her and...oh crap. There was herself, still out cold. Three feet from where she felt as though she was sitting. Something was absotively wrong.

“A-am I dead? Agai--” That wasn’t her voice. That was his voice, only unaccented. “Spike?”

[ BUFFY ONLY ]

[deadhero]

[ on the evening of the 24th, buffy will try and do her best to hide out at home -- however, she will send out written messages to close friends that she's back in one piece, if wildly early. she won't answer to replies but folks are welcome to come by and check in on her.

on the 25th & 26th (but only after the sun goes down) she, in spike's body, can be found either attempting to work a late shift at good spirits or perhaps gingerly picking through new wardrobe options at all passions. or perhaps just sulking as she faux-patrols some of the village paths. ]

[ action ; locked to *us* ]

[heroatypical]

“I’m right he--.” He sat up and held the side of his head. He was surprised at both the sound of Buffy’s surprisingly British accent and the mess of hair his hand was now wrapped around. He immediately turned his head to look at Buffy. And found himself staring at his own body. “... oh bloody hell.”

whoops.

[deadhero]

"Oh no. Oh, God no. This can't be happening."

Panic seeped through her words. His voice. "This? This is your fault. I hope your happy."

[heroatypical]

Spike pulled at the hair that was most assuredly not his. But arguments came natural and so much easier. He stared up at her- him?

"Oh, don't even. You slowed us down, Buffy. I had it all planned out, but you just wouldn't go with the plan!"

ACTION HOUSE SEVEN

[all7seas]

Jack kicked open the door of Seven -- not viciously. It was simply because his arms were full of Things.

Shells. Cat food. A strangely-shaped acorn. A bag of cheesy buns. Some apple cider in a jug. Lots of I Can't Believe It's Not Butter -- Jack wanted to experiment with that and see if he, indeed, COULD believe. How credible did these butter fakers think people were?

He WASN'T expecting Buffy home, though thoughts of her were a constant distraction. The short sail on the Joanna had been lonesome, save for the company of Kipinn and several sympathetic porpoises. His dreams had been happy, though, and filled with her. The sad dream? She'd obliterated it, he was now convinced. Obliterated it for his birthday.

The pirate smiled as he shouldered his way into the house.

[heroatypical]

The home was not empty. Two recently returned residents were in the middle of arguing. A short petite slayer was marching out of Buffy's room, adorned in a New Feather dress, and looking terribly cross.

"Forget it. That's not going to happen. I can dress myself perfectly fine, thank you. Not like I can't work out how to take those things off myself. Putting them on? I can manage that too."

Something was not quite right with "her" accent.

[deadhero]

"The plan? Was a bad plan."

It was easier to argue about the plan than argue about the fact that..."Would you be gentle with my hair? Please?"

[deadhero]

Something was even less quite right about "Spike" and his accent: "Would you get back here?" The vampire appeared in the doorway to Buffy's bedroom and stood on the threshhold with arms most severely crossed across the chest.

"Get back here with that body. You just have to deal with the fact that it's mine."

The 25th

[vor]

[Gregor has finished his morning ride and is on his way home, his right eye still bruised and somewhat swollen and his clothes smelling like horse. He looks rather glum until he spots Spike, at which point a more neutral and less severe expression comes over him and he changes course to intercept.]

You're back. How did it go?

[heroatypical]

He released the hair. Then had to pull it back because it was getting in his face. Whatever glamorous power Buffy had to keep it always looking good? Somehow Spike wasn't managing it.

"I'd like to, wouldn't I? I don't know you manage all this... this."

He stoop up and then gawked at the dress he was in. It was already muddy and sort of damp. And it was cold. Why did he feel so cold? "Well this is perfect, isn't it?"

[action]

[simplestgift]

[He's actually knocking to visit Elizabeth, but since when do you get who you're looking for when you first knock on the door?]

The 25th

[heroatypical]

[Spike kept walking until he realized this guy, whoever he was, wanted to talk to him. Or Buffy. Whatever.

Didn't he talk to this guy once?]

Bloody awful, that's how it went.

[all7seas]

Stricken, the pirate stopped. Stared. Slowly, very slowly, tubs of I Can't Believe It's Not Butter! began to drop to the floor. First one tub. Then the second.

Then the next two, in quick succession. Thunk thunk thunk roll.

How gullible he had been. How could it be happening this way. How.

The oddly shaped acorn was next. It bounced rather alarmingly.

But Jack held the giant bag of cat food like a shield as he watched a betrayal he would never have believed could happen.

[deadhero]

She crossed her -- his -- arms over a rather masculine chest. At least it was a familiarly masculine chest.

Or maybe that didn't help at all.

"Your first official Luceti fudge-up." Buffy resisted the urge to stalk forward and address the way that garment was hanging off the body that should be hers but wasn't. "At least you have a p--

Oh dear Lord, I'm a vampire."

[heroatypical]

"Yours or not, it doesn't mean I have to like it, do I?"

He hadn't noticed the pirate. It was for the best really. It'd be too tempting to make it work.

"Don't act like the victim here, either. I've got you inside me too."

[vor]

[Gregor...tactfully ignores the sudden accent.]

I'm sorry to hear it. Ivan would have liked to have you at the party. [Potentially as Gregor's bodyguard. From Adele.]

[action]

[deadhero]

[ oh jeez. was there no one else around to answer the freakin' door? buffy trips over an ottoman in her brand-new-feet just to get to the entrance and...

huh. ]

Archie. [ she kinds squints at him. and finally remembers to step aside. ] Hi. Uhm. I mean. Hello?

[heroatypical]

He shivered a bit and did something entirely foreign to himself by wrapping his- her arms around a chest that was far more feminine that he would ever be able to get used to. But the cold was more distracting than that mild curiosity.

"Well, aren't you the lucky one. It's the sodding ice age out here."

[action]

[simplestgift]

[And that was exactly the person he was hoping not to see. Archie goes pretty frosty.]

May I speak to Elizabeth?

1/2

[deadhero]

"Can you please not say it like that? At least, not so l--"

2/2

[deadhero]

"..Jack."

There was altogether too much a mixture of fright and yearning and love and shame in that voice.

[heroatypical]

Well that's too bad for Ivan, isn't it? He can bugger off about his party.

[Cross, very cross. Even if he was enjoying the sunshine, he was way too annoyed about this situation to be friendly like with Buffy's woefully good looking male friends.]