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revivedqueen.livejournal.com) wrote in
taxonomites2010-06-05 09:08 am
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XII: [ visual | location: Shelley ] Would you like me to lie to you now?
Her sarcophagus. Her resting place. She had gone to visit it mere moments ago, as a means of connecting with a past she can no longer return to.
Too many things to ponder on. Too long had she been held in this place, against her will, against her desire. And she can find no means to alleviate her increasing discomfort. Her recent bout with Spike, and even with the vampire leader, had helped little to comfort her. Her conversations with the younger Wesley only confirmed her thoughts.
She had no purpose here. She had no place here.
And yet this realization is not new.
Illyria reaches out to touch her sarcophagus - when the glitch hits.
She watches, disturbed, as her skin, her armor changes. How can this be? She had no desire to look like Winifred. Illyria had not willed it. She throws her head back, closes her eyes - nothing.
She grits her teeth as suspicion begins to gnaw at her. Lashing out, she pushes her sarcophagus away until it crashes and destroys one of the walls.
Amidst the dust and debris, Illyria stands panting. Her tablet, attached to her wrist now, records her movements as she begins to inspect her borrowed form.
Too many things to ponder on. Too long had she been held in this place, against her will, against her desire. And she can find no means to alleviate her increasing discomfort. Her recent bout with Spike, and even with the vampire leader, had helped little to comfort her. Her conversations with the younger Wesley only confirmed her thoughts.
She had no purpose here. She had no place here.
And yet this realization is not new.
Illyria reaches out to touch her sarcophagus - when the glitch hits.
She watches, disturbed, as her skin, her armor changes. How can this be? She had no desire to look like Winifred. Illyria had not willed it. She throws her head back, closes her eyes - nothing.
She grits her teeth as suspicion begins to gnaw at her. Lashing out, she pushes her sarcophagus away until it crashes and destroys one of the walls.
Amidst the dust and debris, Illyria stands panting. Her tablet, attached to her wrist now, records her movements as she begins to inspect her borrowed form.
[Voice]
[Voice]
[Voice]
You thought wrong.
[Voice]
Least you don't think you're her this time. Still, it's not your form to take. Why won't you change back?
[Voice]
[Voice]
You can't change back, can you?
[Voice]
How absurd.
[Voice]
[Spike's not sure whether he's trying to goad her into changing back or if he actually believes it. It wouldn't be the first time Illyria's had trouble keeping form, and it is the sort of thing the aliens reportedly do.]
Prove it, then. Turn back.
[Voice]
No.
[Voice]
I knew it.
[Voice]
Even in this form, I can still break you, Spike.
[Voice]
Yeah, probably. But that wouldn't solve your problem.
[Voice]
[Voice]
You must hate this. Being under their control. I know the feeling. It's why I still want to leave, even with Fred and Buffy and everyone here and alive.
[Voice]
My defeat. They revel too much in it.
[Voice]
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[ voice | locked to spike and angel ]
You think she's stuck again, like she used to get in hell?
[ voice | locked to spike and angel ]
[ voice | locked to spike and angel ]
[ voice | locked to spike and angel ]
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Except Connor. He'd probably see it our way.
[ voice | locked to spike and angel ]
He would. I imagine that's why he hasn't spoken up, yet.
[ voice | locked to spike and angel ]
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[ voice | locked to spike and angel ]