taxonomites | 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.

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What's happened to you, God-King?

[and yes, even after all these months, he doesn't know her name]

Nothing. Nothing at all.

Yeah, well, you are always damaging things when I see you.

But this is different, you weren't pretending to be Fred, then.

Does it still bother you?

[quickly] No.

[after a moment] A bit. Doesn't it bother you? Being someone you're not?

You're referring to me using this shell as if it's my own.

Doesn't look like you, looks like Fred. If I wore glasses and they made me look like Woody Allen, I'd stop wearing them. I like looking like me.

So do I. My true form is truly more glorious than this... bag of sticks.

[ a pause. ] And yet, that, too, is beyond me now.

Why are you in her form, God-King? If you hate it so much, if you---want to be yourself. Why did you take it in the first place?

Because there's nothing else. There's no one else. It was she who inhaled my essence. The one who made it possible for me to inhabit her body. Had I a choice on the matter...

[ her sentiment is very obvious. ]

She still died for you.

Have some respect. Go back to what you normally look like.

Respect?

Yeah, that thing you feel to people who deserve it. And Fred deserves your respect, God-King.

She's a mere human.

And before her, you were just something people inhale.

Irrelevant.

Why are you indignant on her behalf?

She's my friend. People tend to get indignant over friends.

And ships on television shows. Though I never really understood that one.

...ships. [ and television. unfamiliar. ]

Yeah, I don't understand it, that was always Donna's thing.

[what was he talking about?] And you! I have every right to be indignant about you!

My respect is reserved for those who are more powerful than I am.

I have yet to find one, if it's any consolation to you.

And that, God-King, is why no one respects you here. You're far too smug, you think too much of yourself.

[kettle, meet pot]

You presume that I care about others' opinion of me.

Edited 2010-06-05 07:51 (UTC)

You're a God. Well, were a God. Gods require respect, faith, that's how you lot keep on living.

So, yeah, I'd say you care a bit about how others see you.

And that, Doctor, proves just how little you know of my kind.

Well, right now, you don't look a whole lot different from my kind.

[voice]

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