Bad Eurotrip, Chapter 0
May. 21st, 2004 04:47 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thedeadlyhookAnd so, without further ado, the opening chapter to "Bad Eurotrip," the sequel to the post-BtVS Season 7 road trip story by myself and ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
toysdream, "Bad Trip," which can be found here. Because one cliffhanger a week is enough.
BAD EUROTRIP
Intro by Toysdream (as is this chapter)
In which we continue the adventures of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and her friends, resuming our story roughly a month after the events of "Chosen" and the destruction of the city of Sunnydale. Note that, as of the conclusion of "Bad Trip," we remain technically within the bounds of canon; think of this as a fanciful speculation about events that could have taken place between, and during, the final seasons of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and its companion show Angel.
Brought to you once again by The Deadly Hook and Chevy Impaler, a.k.a. Toysdream, who don't own the characters and situations herein; we're merely taking them out for a little exercise.
ACT ZERO: THE TOWER
"You can turn off the torch now, Colin. The sun's coming up."
Colin grunted, and toggled the switch on his flashlight. He ran a hand through his tangled brown hair, making sure it was properly unkempt, then turned to squint at his companion in the dim morning light. The girl who called herself Kay was roughly a head shorter and perhaps five years younger than him, freckled, redheaded, with glasses. Even though she was only wearing shorts and a T-shirt, she seemed unaffected by the lingering chill of night.
Not bad, Colin thought to himself. Give her a good tour of the Glastonbury landmarks, humor her by going along with her New Age mumbo-jumbo, run her into town for a nice pub lunch, and then see how it went from there. There hadn't been any fireworks at his friend's flat in Bristol, but if they were still hanging out together at the end of the day, he had a hunch things might be different tonight. And in the meantime, she wasn't exactly hard on the eyes.
But Kay's attention was focused on the hill in front of them. The Glastonbury Tor was silhouetted against the slowly brightening horizon, a long, sloping hill rising just over five hundred feet from the plain, topped by the ruined tower that was all that remained of the medieval church of Saint Michael the Archangel.
"So," Colin began. "You wanna go see the abbey first? Burial place of King Arthur and all that?"
Kay shook her head, biting her lip nervously. "No. I have to go up the hill."
"Suit yourself." Colin shivered, and pulled his coat tighter around him. "Hey, you sure you're not cold? You can have my jacket," he offered gallantly.
The girl ignored him. "This is where the ley lines converge," she said, pivoting to take in the full panorama. "All that energy, flowing down the dragon lines to this sacred place. You can almost feel it, can't you?"
"Yeah," Colin agreed. He frowned in concentration, struggling to remember something suitably spiritual from the guidebook he'd browsed through the night before. Too much beer, he lamented, and not enough coffee. After an awkward pause, he came up with something.
"Magic hill, innit?" he volunteered. "Who was that medieval saint, plodded up to the top to have tea with the fairy king?"
"Saint Collen," Kay replied. "Just like you, Colin." His heart thumped as she turned and gave him a fetching smile. Good job, he congratulated himself. Come on, mate, keep going.
"That's right. Clever old feller. Goes to meet with the king of the fairies and ends up throwing holy water in his face."
The girl's smile dimmed slightly. "Yeah. Sort of a metaphor for how the early Christians treated the Celtic traditions, huh?" She looked back at the hill, which was now clearly visible in the morning light. "Poor Gwyn ap Nudd. King of the underworld, master of the Wild Hunt, revealer of the sacred mysteries... and then some wanker of a hermit drops in for a chat and spritzes him with holy water." She sighed, and began walking. "Okay, then. Let's go."
Colin stumbled after her, suddenly feeling hopelessly clumsy. "Hey, wait up. I'm your guide, remember?"
Kay halted at the start of the path, waiting for him to catch up. "Not any more, Colin," she said sadly. "I'm afraid this is as far as you'll be taking me."
"What?" It took him a moment to process her words. "Look, I'm sorry if I--"
"No, Colin." Kay took a step towards him, reaching a gentle hand up to his face. "I'm sorry."
A second later, the girl was stumbling backwards, wiping at something dark and wet which had somehow spattered onto her face. Her glasses were smeared with it, her T-shirt was stained; as Colin watched, fresh spatters appeared on her forearms, which were raised defensively before her face.
Colin stepped forward to reassure her, make sure she was okay, but when he tried to speak he found he could produce only a thick gurgling sound. Then he felt the moisture on his own skin--something thick and warm, but rapidly cooling, which ran down his neck and onto his chest. He raised a hand to his throat, and felt the hot gouts of blood pulsing out in time with the pounding of his heart.
"I'm so sorry," Kay whispered as the curved knife dropped from her fingers. Colin stumbled towards her, his free hand reaching out for help, but she easily sidestepped him.
Working quickly, Kay shrugged off her backpack and extracted an insulated Thermos flask. Then she trotted after Colin, who was slowly sinking to his knees along the side of the path. As tenderly as she could manage, she pulled his head up, forced his hands away from the gushing wound at his neck, and pressed the flask to his throat to collect the blood.
By the time the container was full, the man was pretty much empty. Kay let go of Colin's head, and his body slumped to the ground. Given the mess he'd made, she decided there was no point in trying to hide Colin's body. And so, after screwing the top securely onto the Thermos flask and stomping both her hiking boots in the spreading pool of blood to make sure they were properly soaked, Kay turned and began making her way up the winding flanks of Glastonbury Tor, weeping quietly as she went.
...........
Kay didn't follow the direct path up the hill. Instead, she wound her way around the terraced sides of Glastonbury Tor, following the seven looping tracks that were all that remained of an ancient labyrinth.
It took her the better part of an hour to complete the trip, and from time to time she found herself hoping for the sound of sirens, of shouting policemen, of pursuit and capture. But she knew that no such sounds would come, that there would be no red-faced cops and clacking handcuffs. She was carrying out a sacred task, and no interference would be permitted.
At last, the winding trail brought Kay to the top of the Tor, and she turned to begin the straight path that led along the long, narrow hilltop to the ruined tower itself. Her boots were grimy with dark mud, and the blood on her face and chest and forearms had long since dried into a foul crust, but she had no way to wipe it off.
"Hey there, girlfriend!"
Kay raised her head, squinting through her smeared glasses. A figure was waiting at the ruins ahead of her, silhouetted within the arch that cut through the tower's base. It was a young woman, as she had known it would be, and she was holding something in her hand. For a moment, Kay took it for a polearm or halberd--a long spear, with a curved axe blade attached to one end--but then she realized it was more like an axe with an elongated handle. Not a spear, she decided. That had just been a trick of the shadows.
The woman stepped forward, out of the archway and into the light. She was small and blonde, tastefully attired in a white blouse and flared pants, and the weapon in her hand shone silver and red in the morning sunlight. She spoke again, and her voice was warm and amused.
"Here she comes, bearing her precious vessel. You know, I knew a fellow once who'd probably have treated us to a whole Holy Grail rant at this point." The blonde woman shook her head in a gesture of exasperation. "Man, did I ever get tired of listening to that guy."
Kay kept walking, the flask cradled in her arms. "Are you--are you her?"
"Uh-huh," the woman nodded. "Buffy to my friends." She gave Kay a wide grin. "And we're going to be friends, aren't we?"
Buffy stood and watched as Kay completed her journey. As the girl approached the base of the tower, Buffy stood aside and motioned her to a spot on the ground. "Right about there would be perfect."
Kay nodded mutely. She unscrewed the cap of the Thermos flask and tipped its contents into the dirt, shaking it a few times to make sure the viscous blood was fully drained.
"There we go," Buffy smiled. She patted the girl on the back, and then looked around, taking in the panoramic view of the green plains around them.
"People can be such jerks, can't they?" Buffy pouted at the thought. "They go to all the trouble of plotting out these nice straight tracks, creating avenues for the earth's power. Then just a few thousand years later they're all changing their minds, taking these great little power spots they've created and shutting them down, sealing them off..."
Buffy pivoted on her heel and shot a dirty look up at the weathered tower. "Really did a number on this place, didn't they? A nasty little maze to tangle up the power lines, and a big old chunk of rock jabbed into it like an acupuncture needle. Like an itch you just can't scratch."
She turned back to the splatter of blood, and addressed herself to Kay, who stood waiting quietly beside the red stain. "But now I'm going to scratch that itch, aren't I? With a little help from my friends..."
As Kay looked on, Buffy knelt and pressed the palm of her hand into the spilled blood, and a moment later the liquid burst into flames. The fire spread rapidly along the hilltop path, rushing back along the trail left by Kay's bloodstained hiking boots as if it were a stream of gasoline. It veered left at the other end of the hilltop, and although she couldn't see it, Kay knew that the fire was now winding its way back and forth along the terraced sides of the hill, retracing the path she'd taken through the ancient labyrinth. All the way back to the bottom, she thought. Where Colin's body lay...
Buffy gave her companion an impatient glare. "Oh, stop your blubbering, you big baby." She hefted the weapon in her hand and held it out to Kay. "If it'll make you feel any better, I'll give you first whack at the pinata."
"Really?" Kay sniffled as she wiped the tears from her blood-crusted cheeks. "You sure it's okay?"
"Of course," Buffy beamed. "We're all sisters now, aren't we? Like knights of the jolly old Round Table." She gestured at the stone tower that loomed over them. "Think of this as your initiation."
Kay took the weapon in her hands, and as she held it, she felt renewed strength flowing up her arms and into her body. "Wow," she breathed. "It's just... wow."
"It's your legacy," Buffy said. "Your birthright." She glanced back at the fiery path, feeling the power surging up it like water bursting through a dam. "It's time for all of us to reclaim what's ours."
Kay hoisted the blade, grasping it by the end of its handle, just above the jagged wooden shaft that protruded from the weapon's hilt. She pulled back, drew in a deep breath, and then swung with all her might.
The blade struck the stone flank of the tower with a deep, resonant chime, like the ringing of a great bell, and the earth itself seemed to shake with a sympathetic rumble.
Kay swung again, and the tower groaned. Its ancient stones shifted with a sound like rasping sandpaper.
A third swing, and the ruined tower cracked. The tear began at its base, where the tower emerged from the hilltop, and quickly shot up its full height. The structure lurched, and the cracks spread across the tower's face.
"That's plenty," Buffy said. Placing her hands on Kay's shoulders, she gently guided the girl back along the path, where the flames were already burning themselves out. The two women took a few backward steps as the tower began to crumble, but when its walls finally gave way and came tumbling down in a cascade of stone fragments, all the debris spilled down the slopes of the hill in the opposite direction. Even had they stayed at the foot of the tower, Kay knew, not a single fragment would have touched them.
Buffy and Kay stood for a minute, waiting for the dust of the tower's collapse to settle.
"So how's it feel?" Buffy asked.
Kay peered at Buffy through her blood-smeared glasses. The sensations of strength and wild joy were fading now, subsiding into a low, steady hum like that of an electric generator. Or, she thought, like the engine of Colin's motorbike, when they'd rumbled through the streets of Glastonbury just before dawn. When she'd clung to him, feeling Colin's warmth through his jacket, feeling the answering warmth within herself, dreading the task for which her dreams had guided her here...
"How's what feel?" Kay replied. "Knocking down a big stone eyesore? Being a vandal? Being a murderer?"
Buffy stared back at her evenly. "Being a Slayer."
Kay was silent for a moment. She felt the power of the weapon in her hand, the power surging up the hill behind her, through her, on across the plains ahead. The power that connected her, like a link in a chain, to something bigger and stronger than any one person. Bigger than right or wrong, she thought. Stronger than love or death.
"It feels good," Kay said.
Buffy smiled, and said nothing, and they stood a little while and watched the sun climb higher.
toysdream, "Bad Trip," which can be found here. Because one cliffhanger a week is enough. BAD EUROTRIP
Intro by Toysdream (as is this chapter)
In which we continue the adventures of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and her friends, resuming our story roughly a month after the events of "Chosen" and the destruction of the city of Sunnydale. Note that, as of the conclusion of "Bad Trip," we remain technically within the bounds of canon; think of this as a fanciful speculation about events that could have taken place between, and during, the final seasons of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and its companion show Angel.
Brought to you once again by The Deadly Hook and Chevy Impaler, a.k.a. Toysdream, who don't own the characters and situations herein; we're merely taking them out for a little exercise.
ACT ZERO: THE TOWER
"You can turn off the torch now, Colin. The sun's coming up."
Colin grunted, and toggled the switch on his flashlight. He ran a hand through his tangled brown hair, making sure it was properly unkempt, then turned to squint at his companion in the dim morning light. The girl who called herself Kay was roughly a head shorter and perhaps five years younger than him, freckled, redheaded, with glasses. Even though she was only wearing shorts and a T-shirt, she seemed unaffected by the lingering chill of night.
Not bad, Colin thought to himself. Give her a good tour of the Glastonbury landmarks, humor her by going along with her New Age mumbo-jumbo, run her into town for a nice pub lunch, and then see how it went from there. There hadn't been any fireworks at his friend's flat in Bristol, but if they were still hanging out together at the end of the day, he had a hunch things might be different tonight. And in the meantime, she wasn't exactly hard on the eyes.
But Kay's attention was focused on the hill in front of them. The Glastonbury Tor was silhouetted against the slowly brightening horizon, a long, sloping hill rising just over five hundred feet from the plain, topped by the ruined tower that was all that remained of the medieval church of Saint Michael the Archangel.
"So," Colin began. "You wanna go see the abbey first? Burial place of King Arthur and all that?"
Kay shook her head, biting her lip nervously. "No. I have to go up the hill."
"Suit yourself." Colin shivered, and pulled his coat tighter around him. "Hey, you sure you're not cold? You can have my jacket," he offered gallantly.
The girl ignored him. "This is where the ley lines converge," she said, pivoting to take in the full panorama. "All that energy, flowing down the dragon lines to this sacred place. You can almost feel it, can't you?"
"Yeah," Colin agreed. He frowned in concentration, struggling to remember something suitably spiritual from the guidebook he'd browsed through the night before. Too much beer, he lamented, and not enough coffee. After an awkward pause, he came up with something.
"Magic hill, innit?" he volunteered. "Who was that medieval saint, plodded up to the top to have tea with the fairy king?"
"Saint Collen," Kay replied. "Just like you, Colin." His heart thumped as she turned and gave him a fetching smile. Good job, he congratulated himself. Come on, mate, keep going.
"That's right. Clever old feller. Goes to meet with the king of the fairies and ends up throwing holy water in his face."
The girl's smile dimmed slightly. "Yeah. Sort of a metaphor for how the early Christians treated the Celtic traditions, huh?" She looked back at the hill, which was now clearly visible in the morning light. "Poor Gwyn ap Nudd. King of the underworld, master of the Wild Hunt, revealer of the sacred mysteries... and then some wanker of a hermit drops in for a chat and spritzes him with holy water." She sighed, and began walking. "Okay, then. Let's go."
Colin stumbled after her, suddenly feeling hopelessly clumsy. "Hey, wait up. I'm your guide, remember?"
Kay halted at the start of the path, waiting for him to catch up. "Not any more, Colin," she said sadly. "I'm afraid this is as far as you'll be taking me."
"What?" It took him a moment to process her words. "Look, I'm sorry if I--"
"No, Colin." Kay took a step towards him, reaching a gentle hand up to his face. "I'm sorry."
A second later, the girl was stumbling backwards, wiping at something dark and wet which had somehow spattered onto her face. Her glasses were smeared with it, her T-shirt was stained; as Colin watched, fresh spatters appeared on her forearms, which were raised defensively before her face.
Colin stepped forward to reassure her, make sure she was okay, but when he tried to speak he found he could produce only a thick gurgling sound. Then he felt the moisture on his own skin--something thick and warm, but rapidly cooling, which ran down his neck and onto his chest. He raised a hand to his throat, and felt the hot gouts of blood pulsing out in time with the pounding of his heart.
"I'm so sorry," Kay whispered as the curved knife dropped from her fingers. Colin stumbled towards her, his free hand reaching out for help, but she easily sidestepped him.
Working quickly, Kay shrugged off her backpack and extracted an insulated Thermos flask. Then she trotted after Colin, who was slowly sinking to his knees along the side of the path. As tenderly as she could manage, she pulled his head up, forced his hands away from the gushing wound at his neck, and pressed the flask to his throat to collect the blood.
By the time the container was full, the man was pretty much empty. Kay let go of Colin's head, and his body slumped to the ground. Given the mess he'd made, she decided there was no point in trying to hide Colin's body. And so, after screwing the top securely onto the Thermos flask and stomping both her hiking boots in the spreading pool of blood to make sure they were properly soaked, Kay turned and began making her way up the winding flanks of Glastonbury Tor, weeping quietly as she went.
...........
Kay didn't follow the direct path up the hill. Instead, she wound her way around the terraced sides of Glastonbury Tor, following the seven looping tracks that were all that remained of an ancient labyrinth.
It took her the better part of an hour to complete the trip, and from time to time she found herself hoping for the sound of sirens, of shouting policemen, of pursuit and capture. But she knew that no such sounds would come, that there would be no red-faced cops and clacking handcuffs. She was carrying out a sacred task, and no interference would be permitted.
At last, the winding trail brought Kay to the top of the Tor, and she turned to begin the straight path that led along the long, narrow hilltop to the ruined tower itself. Her boots were grimy with dark mud, and the blood on her face and chest and forearms had long since dried into a foul crust, but she had no way to wipe it off.
"Hey there, girlfriend!"
Kay raised her head, squinting through her smeared glasses. A figure was waiting at the ruins ahead of her, silhouetted within the arch that cut through the tower's base. It was a young woman, as she had known it would be, and she was holding something in her hand. For a moment, Kay took it for a polearm or halberd--a long spear, with a curved axe blade attached to one end--but then she realized it was more like an axe with an elongated handle. Not a spear, she decided. That had just been a trick of the shadows.
The woman stepped forward, out of the archway and into the light. She was small and blonde, tastefully attired in a white blouse and flared pants, and the weapon in her hand shone silver and red in the morning sunlight. She spoke again, and her voice was warm and amused.
"Here she comes, bearing her precious vessel. You know, I knew a fellow once who'd probably have treated us to a whole Holy Grail rant at this point." The blonde woman shook her head in a gesture of exasperation. "Man, did I ever get tired of listening to that guy."
Kay kept walking, the flask cradled in her arms. "Are you--are you her?"
"Uh-huh," the woman nodded. "Buffy to my friends." She gave Kay a wide grin. "And we're going to be friends, aren't we?"
Buffy stood and watched as Kay completed her journey. As the girl approached the base of the tower, Buffy stood aside and motioned her to a spot on the ground. "Right about there would be perfect."
Kay nodded mutely. She unscrewed the cap of the Thermos flask and tipped its contents into the dirt, shaking it a few times to make sure the viscous blood was fully drained.
"There we go," Buffy smiled. She patted the girl on the back, and then looked around, taking in the panoramic view of the green plains around them.
"People can be such jerks, can't they?" Buffy pouted at the thought. "They go to all the trouble of plotting out these nice straight tracks, creating avenues for the earth's power. Then just a few thousand years later they're all changing their minds, taking these great little power spots they've created and shutting them down, sealing them off..."
Buffy pivoted on her heel and shot a dirty look up at the weathered tower. "Really did a number on this place, didn't they? A nasty little maze to tangle up the power lines, and a big old chunk of rock jabbed into it like an acupuncture needle. Like an itch you just can't scratch."
She turned back to the splatter of blood, and addressed herself to Kay, who stood waiting quietly beside the red stain. "But now I'm going to scratch that itch, aren't I? With a little help from my friends..."
As Kay looked on, Buffy knelt and pressed the palm of her hand into the spilled blood, and a moment later the liquid burst into flames. The fire spread rapidly along the hilltop path, rushing back along the trail left by Kay's bloodstained hiking boots as if it were a stream of gasoline. It veered left at the other end of the hilltop, and although she couldn't see it, Kay knew that the fire was now winding its way back and forth along the terraced sides of the hill, retracing the path she'd taken through the ancient labyrinth. All the way back to the bottom, she thought. Where Colin's body lay...
Buffy gave her companion an impatient glare. "Oh, stop your blubbering, you big baby." She hefted the weapon in her hand and held it out to Kay. "If it'll make you feel any better, I'll give you first whack at the pinata."
"Really?" Kay sniffled as she wiped the tears from her blood-crusted cheeks. "You sure it's okay?"
"Of course," Buffy beamed. "We're all sisters now, aren't we? Like knights of the jolly old Round Table." She gestured at the stone tower that loomed over them. "Think of this as your initiation."
Kay took the weapon in her hands, and as she held it, she felt renewed strength flowing up her arms and into her body. "Wow," she breathed. "It's just... wow."
"It's your legacy," Buffy said. "Your birthright." She glanced back at the fiery path, feeling the power surging up it like water bursting through a dam. "It's time for all of us to reclaim what's ours."
Kay hoisted the blade, grasping it by the end of its handle, just above the jagged wooden shaft that protruded from the weapon's hilt. She pulled back, drew in a deep breath, and then swung with all her might.
The blade struck the stone flank of the tower with a deep, resonant chime, like the ringing of a great bell, and the earth itself seemed to shake with a sympathetic rumble.
Kay swung again, and the tower groaned. Its ancient stones shifted with a sound like rasping sandpaper.
A third swing, and the ruined tower cracked. The tear began at its base, where the tower emerged from the hilltop, and quickly shot up its full height. The structure lurched, and the cracks spread across the tower's face.
"That's plenty," Buffy said. Placing her hands on Kay's shoulders, she gently guided the girl back along the path, where the flames were already burning themselves out. The two women took a few backward steps as the tower began to crumble, but when its walls finally gave way and came tumbling down in a cascade of stone fragments, all the debris spilled down the slopes of the hill in the opposite direction. Even had they stayed at the foot of the tower, Kay knew, not a single fragment would have touched them.
Buffy and Kay stood for a minute, waiting for the dust of the tower's collapse to settle.
"So how's it feel?" Buffy asked.
Kay peered at Buffy through her blood-smeared glasses. The sensations of strength and wild joy were fading now, subsiding into a low, steady hum like that of an electric generator. Or, she thought, like the engine of Colin's motorbike, when they'd rumbled through the streets of Glastonbury just before dawn. When she'd clung to him, feeling Colin's warmth through his jacket, feeling the answering warmth within herself, dreading the task for which her dreams had guided her here...
"How's what feel?" Kay replied. "Knocking down a big stone eyesore? Being a vandal? Being a murderer?"
Buffy stared back at her evenly. "Being a Slayer."
Kay was silent for a moment. She felt the power of the weapon in her hand, the power surging up the hill behind her, through her, on across the plains ahead. The power that connected her, like a link in a chain, to something bigger and stronger than any one person. Bigger than right or wrong, she thought. Stronger than love or death.
"It feels good," Kay said.
Buffy smiled, and said nothing, and they stood a little while and watched the sun climb higher.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
Okay, she's done it now...
Date: 2004-05-22 12:28 am (UTC)Now there has to be vandalism.
I'm scandalized, I tell you. Scandalized *g*
Re: Okay, she's done it now...
Date: 2004-05-22 06:31 am (UTC)Just doing our part to add more drama to your life. Sounds like there, uh, hasn't been enough of it lately. :-)
(no subject)
Date: 2004-05-22 05:54 am (UTC)Exxxxcellent
and also creepy
but in a good way!
And also, I hope she doesn't drink out of that thermos for awhile...
:)
(no subject)
Date: 2004-05-22 06:15 am (UTC)Like, yuck.
Next: Giles!
(no subject)
Date: 2004-05-22 07:40 am (UTC)I wasn't gross till I met YOU....
ok, that's a lie, but it sounds good :)
Occasionally I'm crass and strange
Next: Giles!
YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY! *dances about*
Giles is my favorite BtVS character
*hugs him tight*
*hugs you guys for making him a part of the story*
(no subject)
Date: 2004-05-22 08:15 am (UTC)Eh, I'll believe it. We're bad, bad people. (Or maybe it's just me.)
YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY! *dances about*
I hope our Giles-related content justifies your enthusiasm. Clearly we've attracted a crowd of Ripper fans here...
(no subject)
Date: 2004-05-22 02:35 pm (UTC)*eyes glaze over*
Ooops sorry, what were you saying? ;)
Feel free to roll your eyes and/or smile and nod at me...
Naaahhh...
Date: 2004-05-23 05:29 am (UTC)Re: Naaahhh...
Date: 2004-05-23 06:08 am (UTC)Re: Naaahhh...
Date: 2004-05-23 05:17 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-05-24 12:50 pm (UTC)What? Oh, I was channeling Lilah again.
Anyway, I look forward to seeing Giles let loose his inner Ripper.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-05-31 04:24 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-05-31 05:12 pm (UTC)Working on the next bit today. The Euro section is much more heavily plotted, so slower going on the writing, unfortunately. Hopefully it'll be worth the wait, though. Thanks so much for reading this though - I may have said this before, but it's always a special thrill/terror/warm feeling to get feedback from a writer you admire.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-05-31 05:49 pm (UTC)Off the top of my head: awesome plotting. I love a good, well thought out plot, and I appreciate the effort that goes into it (as i'm unable to do more than create tables and leave them mostly empty - you may have noticed my lack of forethought).
Characterization: You have managed to paint in the OC's very creditably- this sounds kind of lukewar, I know, but even though I liked their role in this fic, and it's much much better than ME managed, I still wouldn't read a novel only about them...Great Willow and Xander.
Oops. My daughter is coming to collect her computer time. More later.