[023] - action

[herotypical]

[Buffy sits, quite quietly, on the riverbank near the bridge where she had been taken. Returned now, she looks to be unharmed. No bruises, no cuts, no blood. In a lot of ways she looks as though she hasn't even left.

She hugs her knees to her chest and leans her head back, drinking in the crisp autumnal air. The Slayer looks rather approachable this evening. One might even go so far as to say Buffy looks peaceful.]

(ooc; Back from hiatus and back to my regular scheduled posting. Except a minor dip in tagging over the weekend, though. Going on a small excursion during the days.)

Comments

[herotypical]

Of course I can. It's--[her opening confidence crumbles, she's unsure and can only depend on a hunch]--Sunday, right? [At least, it feels like a Sunday. A thought that she mumbles aloud while watching him carefully for his reaction.]

[hippocraticly.livejournal.com]

[His expression does not change, but his voice is still soft.]

It's Tuesday.

[herotypical]

Tuesday?

[Startled, she widens her eyes at the Doctor. Really? Tuesday? The first genuine jolt of doubt hits her.]

[hippocraticly.livejournal.com]

Tuesday.

[herotypical]

Bones, I don't even remember leaving or being taken or...or anything other than being here.

[Flustered hands. She has them.]

[hippocraticly.livejournal.com]

You put up quite a fight, from what I heard.

[herotypical]

Well, that's at least something. [She smiles, expecting nothing less of herself.] Couldn't exactly see myself going quietly.

[hippocraticly.livejournal.com]

I'd put it down to Acute Stress Disorder. Unless there is something else you have neglected to tell me. Where are your shoes?

[herotypical]

Shoes? [Oh, right. She looks down at her now wiggling toes.] Err, they're missing, I guess. Maybe if they did kidnap me, I'll they really wanted were my shoes. I mean, they were pretty cute shoes. Y'know the ones I'm talking about, the brown leather pumps--right?

[Yeah, Bones. Throw medical terms at her? She will subconsciously retaliate with fashion.]

[hippocraticly.livejournal.com]

No. I'm a doctor, not a dedicated follower of fashion.

[herotypical]

Oh. [That was anti-climactic. She frowns.] Well, fine then. I guess you won't actually get to see them, since the Malnosso apparently have a thing for excellent footwear. Except the part where they don't because, Doctor, I believe I've been here all week. With or without my shoes.

[hippocraticly.livejournal.com]

[McCoy lifts a hand up to his lips, when something springs to mind. He waves a finger at her before disappearing into his bedroom and returning with his fist clenched.]

What do you remember about Luceti? Any notable events you can think of: meeting people here, the situations, and the experiments. Hell, even watching that bloodsucker dunk weetabix in his mug of blood before sucking it dry.

[herotypical]

I remember...Tifa leaving. And the whole experiment where people did what they were told to do. And--[she stops, breaking out into a few suppressed chuckles]--I don't think I'd ever watch Angel do that. That'd be more of a William the Bloody thing.

[hippocraticly.livejournal.com]

Do you remember this?

[He unclenches his fist and lets the locket dangle from between his fingers.]

[herotypical]

[Smirk.] Thought you were not a follower of fashion, Bones? Not that this thing's fashionable. Sort of on the tacky side, actually. Sort of--[And then she leans in, lifting the actual locket up without taking the chain from McCoy's hands.]

I've seen this before.

[hippocraticly.livejournal.com]

Where?

[He was not about to admit that she gave it to him after sharing that dream with him. Sometimes a belonging could stimulate the brain and trigger repressed memories. He could not think of something better than the locket he had right now that had caught her attention.]

Where have you seen this before?

[herotypical]

[She takes it fully from him, twisting the chain around her fingers and staring hard at the locket. It wasn't hers--she'd never wear something so...so...hideous. But there was an implicit feeling of ownership. And of victory.

Impulsively, she opened the locket only to stare down at the picture of an older woman. Frowning, she handed it back to Bones.]

I can remember it being covered in blood. Which is not only incredibly gross but also really kind of on the alarming side of things.

[hippocraticly.livejournal.com]

[The picture of the elderly, winged woman caught his eye as she let the locket go. In his short ownership of the locket, he had never once opened it and it had gathered dust on the side table. Perhaps it was superstition, but he did not want to open it and let a curse float out. It could cause droughts or plagues or... well, something bad. Buffy did steal it from a dead guy, after all.]

Do you know who it belongs to?

[herotypical]

[And that's a superstition Buffy is late to, as she only now realizes who she had won the locket from and why it felt so much like a trophy when she had held it.]

He was big. He had battle scars And his wings were big--huge. And I...I tore and chopped them off. [Buffy experiences a momentary, visceral disgust with herself as the memory of the battle resurfaced like a fact learned for the first time.]

[hippocraticly.livejournal.com]

You gave me this over two weeks ago to hang onto. You said you had a dream and, apparently, they come true from time to time. Summers, you said you saw someone being kidnapped in this dream and you hung around the bridge, because the angle looked recognizable from your dream.

[herotypical]

[Now that, although the memory was murky enough in her mind, was not something she could ever imagine the good Doctor fabricating. He had a hard enough time accepting Buffy's habit of climbing windows--so she didn't think he would come up with the prophetic dreams all on his own. Ergo, she began to piece a few things together as well.]

And the day when I was supposedly kidnapped--do you know where it happened? Because if it was on that bridge then I am so having a talk with fate because that is one sucky deal. Dreaming about your own kidnapping, God.

[hippocraticly.livejournal.com]

... It was raining heavily that day, but it looked like it was on the bridge. When the rain stopped, me and Jim went out to look for you.

[herotypical]

[It's a lot to think about. She ruminates on that, twisting her fingers and staring at her bare toes--more of a shameful state than amusing, now. Buffy can see the common sense of what is being proposed, even if she can't conjure the accurate memories.]

If I gave it to you--that necklace--than you obviously kept good care of it. Thanks.

[hippocraticly.livejournal.com]

Now truthfully, how do you really feel? None of that fantabuloosmoe junk you keep spouting.

[herotypical]

[What starts off as a mild glare softens, shifting instead into concentration as she tries to find the best--and least jumbled--way of explaining.]

Truthfully? I feel great. Almost better than ever. It's like I've had a week of nights where I've slept better than I've ever slept before. And I feel unburdened, like there's not a single responsibility left and--yeah, that's disconcerting. Because when am I not Responsibility-Girl, with the world on her shoulders and not unsmall amount of--[Right. None of that junk. She shakes her head and tries to appease Bones by continuing more clearly. The operative word here being tries.]

And now that I've noticed that I feel burdnless? I feel wrong, because me and burdenless don't even belong in the same sentence.