Chapter 8: Going Rogue - Part 1

[Indra_RPG]

[Kathmandu "“ Chand Palace]

:: Immediately upon returning home, Indra bathed and made herself presentable. ::

:: She then proceeded to the nursery. Immediately upon entering, she nodded at the nanny, who was more than happy to be dismissed for a time. ::

Rajarshi, or "Raja," as they called him, lay asleep in his crib. He was just a baby. Nothing ordinary. He had fat baby cheeks and thin, black baby hair and his mouth bubbled slightly when he breathed. But he was her baby and, try as she might to deny it, that made him special to her. She loved him.

:: She did not wish to wake him, so she did not touch him. Instead, she merely leaned over him and watched him gurgle and fidget in his sleep. ::

For the thousandth time, she wondered what would become of him after Kali fulfilled her promise. Rajnath was a good man, if a little old-fashioned and overbearing. He would take care of his son. That was not what concerned her. Instead, she knew that those of her devi's kind were inclined to take lightly in others the cycle of samsara from which they themselves were fortunately freed.

:: Unable to resist the urge, she took a hand that smelled like soap and yet was forever sullied and, with it, she stroked her son's hair. ::

His hair felt soft. New. Innocent.

Once this thing was done, would she "“ she who had taken the life of three young girls scant hours ago, she who had placed her own life in peril so soon thereafter "“ be able to protect Raja from herself? Would Rajnath be able to protect him?

It was this seemingly serene domestic scene into which Rajnath happened upon his return from work.

"Ah, my pretty wife," he said in Hindi, stopping in the doorway to gaze at Indra and Raja. "How does our son?"

:: Indra turned and smiled. She pressed a finger to her lips. ::

Rajnath: "Shhh."

Rajnath smiled back, causing the skin around his eyes to crinkle further, and nodded.

:: Indra stepped out of the room and, with her head, gestured to the nearby nanny that she should return to her post. She did, and Indra closed the door behind the girl. ::

:: She stood on tiptoe and planted a light kiss upon her husband's lightly grizzled cheek. ::

He smelled like shaving cream.

Rajnath returned the gesture, kissing Indra atop the forehead as if she was a valuable thing, a thing worthy to be cherished, a thing worthy to be loved. Indra regretted that it was not true.

Rajnath: "Raja does well. He sleeps soundly, at least. Can you say the same for the king?"

The pair walked off, arm and arm, toward the dining room. Over dinner, they discussed their respective days. Rajnath told Indra of his business meetings and, also, of his more secretive meetings with the once (and future, if Rajnath had anything to say about it) great ruler. Indra, of course, lied. She recounted shopping excursions and social calls that had not happened. She did, however, tell one half-truth. This was the story of a young American tourist who had pushed her out of the way of an oncoming jeep, thereby saving her life.

"Thank God you are well!" Rajnath cried upon hearing the news.

:: Indra looked down and blushed prettily. ::

Rajnath: "I do not know whether or not she will choose to accept my hospitality, but I have, of course, offered to house her here during her stay."

This, her husband accepted as a matter of course.

The news, such that it was, of her near-demise affected Rajnath greatly.

"Thank God you are well!" he cried again, later that night, in their bedroom. He clutched her to him and kissed her and she kissed him back. He loved her, poor man. In that moment, she sincerely wished she had it in her to love him back. But, of course, it was not in her nature, no matter how she might strive or wish to make it so.

:: Some time later, in the flickering candlelight of the master bathroom suite, she soaked in lavender-scented bubbles for the second time that day while her husband indulged her by shampooing her hair. ::

:: She looked up at him and tried to smile. ::

Rajnath: "Rajnath?"

Her tone was sweet, but also tinged with worry.

"Hmm?" he asked distractedly.

:: Tears brimmed in Indra's eyes. They were, perhaps, sincere. Indra was uncertain. She could not remember what sincere tears felt like. She could not remember ever having shed them. ::

Rajnath: "If something were to happen to me"¦ anything, I don't know what"¦ promise me you will take Raja"¦ somewhere else. Anywhere else. I do not want him to grow up here in his mother's house, but with no mother."

Rajnath chuckled.

"Shh. Silly girl. That will not happen. Do not let the events of the day frighten you. It was an accident. That is all," he told her.

Rajnath: "Promise me," she insisted.

ajnath frowned as he continued to shampoo Indra's hair. He sighed.

"I promise," he whispered.

 

[Wanabee-slayer]

:: Dawn pulled up out the front of the guest house and immediately knew something was wrong. Casting a glance at the others in the car her suspisions starters, the place was a mess. were confirmed as Xander visibly paled before rushing out of the car. Steeling herself for whatever scene lay ahead Dawn took a deep breath before heading off in the direction of the others. The second her foot hit the ground she smelt it, blood, that coppery smell seemed to fill the air, sliding down her throat and settling in her lungs. Moving towards the house Dawn spotted her, Lisa. They had been friends. Dawn was friends with most of the slayers, and suddenly that didn't seem like a good thing. Fighting back tears, Dawn kept moving determined to check up on everyone else in the house. ::

Lisa, I'm sorry.

:: Dawn had only just entered the house when she spotted her, Rachel. Her body had been hacked at, a gash covering her chest. Dawn and Rachel hadn't been particuarly close but the loss of yet another girl took it's toll. Stepping over Racel's lifeless body Dawn continued on her journey further into the house. Fear tearing at her insides. ::

Where is everyone?

:: Dawn didn't have much time to survey the scene before Xander spotted her and engulfed her in a hug. Fighting back her tears once more Dawn returned the embrace grateful for the comfort that it offered. ::

"That could have been Dawnie."

:: Dawn stiffened at Xander's words. That thought had never even crossed her mind. It didn't seem to matter. Three slayers were dead. Dawn's friends were dead and she would find out who or what did this. Dawn's mind kept flashing back to the bodies, not registering the conversation that was going on in the room until Faith moved towards Xander sending him to the floor. Rushing to his side Dawn watched as he stood on his own and moved closer so he could use her as support if he needed to. ::

Faith: "You attacking one of your own people makes you better how?!"

 

[palabravampiress]

[Monastery - Guest House]

:: Xander cringed as he got the answering machine on Buffy's cell phone. ::

It wasn't just the not-there-ey-ness that got him, but it was also the loud Macho Macho Man music ringing in his already ringing ears.

Buffy: "You know that rogue slayer we came to find? Looks like we brought one with."

Before he could say more, Dawn stepped closer and challenged Faith, putting Xander on full alert.

This is sooo not of the good, Xander thought. The last thing he wanted was for Faith to render another team member blind and unfightworthy.

:: He stepped between the two women. ::

Not the smartest move, maybe, but it was high on the selfless meter. He was already the designated punching bag. At least if he went down, there'd still be three people to fight in case whatever -- or whoever -- killed the slayers came back.

Buffy: "Just call back pronto, okay? We've got a situation -- of the big bad variety."

:: He hung up just in time to hear -- with needles jabbing into his brain on every screechy note -- Dawn verbally lambast Faith. ::

Faith: "You attacking one of your own people makes you better how?!"

He kinda wished there'd been some lambasting of the non-verbal variety, too, but he guessed that was too much to ask.

:: He looked in Faith's direction... or, at least, in what he took to be Faith's direction. With the squinting and the bleeding and the swelling, he could just as easily have been looking at a hat rack as at Faith. ::

Faith: "Hmm. Well now, let's see. Wouldn't be the first time, would it Faith?"

:: He crossed his arms over his chest. ::

Faith: "Of course, last time, you tried to kill me. So kudos to you for taking the attack down a notch. Really. Dead Boy teach you that one?"

:: The gratuitous talking and balancing and generally being conscious set off sparks in his head, so he wobbled, but just a little bit. ::

Faith: "I'm kinda thinking that you going some other where with the Guiltapalooza tour of 04 would be a plus."

Really, he just didn't want to pass out in front of her, which it was looking like he might do, but Faith's absence did also seem desirable on a variety of levels -- especially on the one that allowed her to get her s*** together so that she could be an actual useful member of the team.

Was there a level for that? There had to be. He seemed to remember he and the other scoobies taking like an entire year for that before the First came to visit.

 

[Indra_RPG]

[Kathmandu "“ Indra's Palace]

:: Indra awoke late at night. ::

Rajnath snored beside her. The baby was silent. Even the servants, who seemed always in a state of perpetual motion, seemed to be asleep and still.

:: She, however, dressed and padded out into the dark city streets. ::

:: Stealthily, she slid through the window of a closed convenience store on Freak Street. Then, she made her way behind the counter and, through the curtain, to the back room. In the center of that room, there was a trap-door. Closing that door behind her, she made her way down the stairs and into what appeared to be "“ and actually was "“ another storeroom. It was not just another storeroom, though. Behind the water heater, there was a removable panel. Indra removed that panel, stepped into a dark, dank tunnel, and then replaced the panel behind her. The tunnel, which followed the sewer but was, thankfully, situated high enough to keep her feet out of the muck, led to a chamber only two or three meters ahead.::

Here, a spikey, scaley, red-eyed demon stepped out of the shadows.

:: Indra nodded at it. She then spoke politely: ::

Indra: "Robert."

Robert nodded back and stepped aside to let Indra pass.

:: Moving aside a rock-like panel that only someone in possession of the strength of a chosen one, a demon, or a devi could ever hope to move, Indra stepped into Drusilla's lair. ::

Robert closed the panel behind her.

:: Indra stared. ::

The devi had found a friend, it seemed. For there, bound to the wall with four heavy chains, was a man. No; not a man, exactly, but a male of Drusilla's kind, instead. Drusilla bent over him, cooing and striking his cheek with her right hand as though he were precious, while simultaneously scorching his chest with her left hand, which held a vile of what Indra took to be water from the holy Ganges.

There was something intimate and familiar about this scene. The male, battered though he was, kept his blue eyes tightly locked to Drusilla's dark ones as if to challenge her. They blazed angrily, she saw, and also indignantly, but there was something else there, too, in his expression. Lust? Love? Amusement? She could not place the emotion, but it intrigued her. Even more intriguing was the manner in which the male devi's body responded to Drusilla's touch. His muscles "“ highly visible through his ripped, scorched, and mostly no-longer existent shirt "“ were taut and ready. He did not struggle, as Indra would have expected. Instead, it seemed as if he only waited for his turn.

:: Curious, Indra strode cautiously forward, crouched, and cocked her head to the side so that she could catch the light. ::

Drusilla, as usual, seemed oblivious to the world around her "“ Indra, included.

Consort to a goddess, Indra thought to herself as she studied the bound male, for there was no other way to explain the eerie connection between these two beings. Then she wondered: Is he truly worthy?

He was. She knew it as soon as she asked herself the question. There was something"¦ unique"¦ about this male. Something beautiful "“ and it was not in the way the light glinted off his cheekbones or the hard ridges of his musculature, although Indra did of course appreciate those particular attributes of his person. No; it was not his appearance. It was something"¦ yellow-gold, like fire.

She did not mean his strangely colored hair. To Indra, people had colors. As did goddesses, apparently. Kali was the richest black. Raja was emerald green. Rajnath was, like most people, merely gray. Indra herself was colorless. Perhaps her strange method of perception "“ "Synesthesia," the doctors called the gift that had drawn Drusilla to her "“ did not extend to herself. Usually, the color was dull and formless. But in the case of this male (and of Drusilla, as well), it exuded from every pore. It was something"¦

Indra: "Effulgent."

The word was whispered before she even knew she'd spoken.

:: Indra smiled. ::

She understood. In fact, she was already half in love with this man, herself. Her devotion to Kali could not be swayed, of course, but it could, perhaps, be expanded.

Yes, this one is worthy to be consort to a goddess. Worthy to be Shiva to Drusilla's Kali. The mythos fit. The stories were true, in their way, even in this incarnation. One look at them, and she knew. She could see him, covered in the ashes of Kali's joyful slaughter, lying among the dead at Drusilla's dancing feet. Only he could calm her fury. Only his cries could attract her notice. She must have seen his effulgence, too, Indra mused. The devi was his devourer, his origin. Through her, he was a great poet, a Lord of the Earth. Dancing in concert, they could create and destroy entire worlds.

But something did not fit. Something was not right. It troubled Indra.

Why had he left?

:: Indra frowned. ::

:: She walked over to Drusilla and offered the comfort of her embrace and of her words. ::

Drusilla: "He will remember his duty to you. He must remember. She who creates also destroys. Has it not always been so?"

:: Gently, she guided her Kali away and sat with her up the bed. ::

Drusilla: "I have good news for you! I have met the scythe bearer. I have spoken with her. I have gained her trust. She will arrive upon my front stoop at any moment "“ and of her own free will, as well. There, I will be able to obtain the instrument without a fight."

:: Proud of herself, Indra smiled. ::

Drusilla: "But I have not told you the best part! I have weaened her with more than mere guilt. I killed the three strongest of her party "“ and she never even suspected me."

 

[GATEGOD]

Dawn's words were hilarious to her ears, in the encompassing gore that was this situation. She was tempted to slap the little bitch. She had not wanted, needed, nor cared for her presence, and now she was contradicting her. This amused Faith, more so than piss her off.

"You want to best take a step back bitch." Faith said in a gruffer voice after Dawn attempted to take a step forward towards her. Before a response could be met Xander jumped infront the two and backed Dawn up. 'Round two?' she wondered.

Faith: "Hmm. Well now, let's see. Wouldn't be the first time, would it Faith?"

:: He crossed his arms over his chest. ::

Faith: "Of course, last time, you tried to kill me. So kudos to you for taking the attack down a notch. Really. Dead Boy teach you that one?"

:: The gratuitous talking and balancing and generally being conscious set off sparks in his head, so he wobbled, but just a little bit. ::

Faith: "I'm kinda thinking that you going some other where with the Guiltapalooza tour of 04 would be a plus."

Faith had been sorry for what he had done, both in past and present to Xander but it didn't seem as if he cared. He hated her. Clear as day. It tore at her deep inside, everyone these days seemed to hate her, and they all loved showing it. As if it was some sort of game of who could hater her more. Willow? Xander? Dawn? not to mention Buffy. None of them respected her, they didn't think she deserved it. What she thought however was different, she infact saw them as unworthy. They had no right to treat anyone the way they treated her but that didn't stop them. 'Monsters'

Faith did not want to strike the poor boy again, Dawn however she'd love to give a little love tap, but that would only further there misplaced hatred towards her. The only thing to do was leave. 'You want me to go, Then I will go you losers. And when Dru slaughters you dimwitted fools I'll have myself a laugh. Don't come crying back to me when you wind up dead, as if any of you will survive without me.' Faith was fighting back these horrible thoughts in her head, but she still needed to go. She wasn't wanted, not now, not ever.

She closed her eyes and heard the silence of the room. Without speaking she turned and walked towards the door. All she could hear now was silence, calls from the others or of the birds chirping in the trees were all drowned out by what can only be described as pure silence. When she opened her eyes again she was at the hood of the jeep. It was time to leave.

 

[Mesektet Ra]

The holy water burned like hell.

He bit the bullet, though, gritting his teeth silently. He kept his eyes locked with Drusilla's, playing the same game they've always played. He wasn't going to scream - that would be no fun for Dru.

Although, quietly, he was reaching the maz of his pain endurance. A blackout was in the offing, this third today. But that wouldn't suit the game they were playing. Chained to this wall, with no one else on planet here but Dru, he was one to indulge her. Why the sodding hell not? He's already been smashed in the face by a spine demon, had hid head cracked open like rotted fruit. She wanted to play their game, and he was ready.

Willing. The word seared his mind. He didn't want this. He didn't want any of this. His heart hurt and his chest ached and his skin was burned and scarred. He found himself wishing that, for once, the bloody calvary would show up and save his arse.

The door opened, and Spike looked up for a moment. A beautiful girl, native Nepali. More holy water spilled down his arms. His eyes ticked back to Drusilla, but out of the corner of his eye he watched this girl. The Slayer, he realized. The rogue one they'd been sent here to get rid of. The smell of his burning flesh filled the air but he didn't blink, just watched.

The girl studied him arduously, contemplating him. Her gaze was almost worshipful. He found himself smiling, although his eyes were directed at Drusilla. More than one woman looked at him like that in the past.

"Effulgent."

Spike twitched, but it seemed as though it was because Drusilla dripped more droplets of the acid water along his torso. Effulgent. Where'd the bloody little bint get that? It struck home. It made his chest hurt more, on the inside, beneath where his flesh was blackened and flaking away. The demon inside was roaring, screaming inside its cage, scratching with razor-sharp claws for release. He was losing sense of himself, which is just what Drusilla wanted. He felt like his heart was going through a meat grinder.

Drusilla: “He will remember his duty to you. He must remember. She who creates also destroys. Has it not always been so?”

He raised his head and fixed the girl with a gaze. Somebody shut that little bitch the sodding hell up!

Finally, the girl pulled Drusilla away. Spike let out an unnecessary breath and hung his head.

Drusilla: “He will remember his duty to you. He must remember. She who creates also destroys. Has it not always been so?”

:: Gently, she guided her Kali away and sat with her up the bed. ::

Drusilla: “I have good news for you! I have met the scythe bearer. I have spoken with her. I have gained her trust. She will arrive upon my front stoop at any moment – and of her own free will, as well. There, I will be able to obtain the instrument without a fight.”

:: Proud of herself, Indra smiled. ::

Drusilla: “But I have not told you the best part! I have weakened her with more than mere guilt. I killed the three strongest of her party – and she never even suspected me.”

Spike feigned fading in and out of blackness, swaying his head back and forth. Inside, breath he didn't need caught in his throat. The Slayers. Bloody hell. He filed each word away, gathering information as he was chained to the wall, burnt black.

 

[DarklyDreamingDrusilla]

Drusilla: "I have good news for you! I have met the scythe bearer. I have spoken with her. I have gained her trust. She will arrive upon my front stoop at any moment "“ and of her own free will, as well. There, I will be able to obtain the instrument without a fight."

Indra:"This is good, but you must be cautious that she does not know that I am here. She must not find us because then all will be ruined. You have done well in your mission Indra. The sythe is what we need to finish are plan as you know."

Drusilla: "But I have not told you the best part! I have weakened her with more than mere guilt. I killed the three strongest of her party "“ and she never even suspected me."

Indra:"Oh, killed the others have you? Good, now we have three less of them to worry about, but there are still others in the party. They know of our plan and they want to stop us so we must be cautious. Now leave us I still have some unfinished buisness to do."

Slowly, Drusilla began to walk back over to Spike. And bent down so that her face was level with his. She began to stroke his cheek with her long nails.

Spike:"Now, now don't worry about all that Willy dear. Remeber you have been a bad, bad boy and you know what we do to bad boys. We punish them."

She then picked up a chain and on the end was a little gold cross. She had a huge grin on her face as she began to swing it back and forth in front of Spike's eyes.

Spike:"Where is your slayer now? She is not here for you when you need her. Nobody is here for you. They don't care for you Spike, not the way that I did. Not the way that I could have."

Then she began to lower the cross closer to his chest and placed right above his heart. The skin began to sizzle and Drusilla began to giggle...

 

[Mesektet Ra]

Spike listened. He kept all the information, knowing the team would want it when they finally got OFF THEIR LAZY SODDING ARSES and saved him. Which would be bloody WHEN, now?

He raised his head slightly at Drusilla's approach, his head still dipped. He gaze at her through his lashes, his head swaying a little. Yup, blacking out was looking more and more like a viable option. He kept himself awake now, as not to spoil Dru's little party. Wouldn't upset the princess, would he?

Sodding, bleeding, f-cking Christ on a minibike. He wished he could stop these thoughts. He wished he could erase all his leftover love for her, all their bloodstained history. Even now, even after he chained her to his own wall and threatened to kill her himself, even after the soul and all the good things he'd done, part of his heart was locked with Drusilla.

Her fingers reached out and stroked his face; he just stared at her. Glared, maybe, was the preferred term. The blue of his eyes burned like ice.

"Now, don't you worry about that Willy dear. Remember you have been a bad, bad boy and you know what we do to bad boys. We punish them."

Spike coughed, blood gurgling from his unused lungs. It dribbled down his chin as his head swung away from Drusilla's hands, splattering the wall. "Told you once, love," he croaked. His entire body felt like he got hit by a Mack truck and set on fire, which was just about what happened. His eyes narrowed, another cough escaping his lips. More blood slid down his chin. "Get bent."

"Where is your Slayer now? She is not here for you when you need her. Nobody is here for you. They don't care for you Spike, not the way I did. Not the way that I could have."

Spike let out one chuckle, gurgling. It was followed by another, and another, until he was full-out laughing, head thrown backwards against the cold and clammy stone wall. "Jesus, pet, if I had a sodding dime for everytime I heard that load of piss," he bit off hoarsely. His head swung back down, the laughing fit subsiding. He raised his eyes as Drusilla produced a small gold cross on a chain. He grit his teeth visibly, the rage boiling inside of his gut and firing out through his limbs. Drusilla pressed the trinket tight against his skin, burning both his chest and her hand. She giggled girlishly; Spike grunted against the pain.

The demon inside screamed again, but Spike found it inside himself to hold back. "Gimme your best, love," he whispered, the cross searing through his chest. "Nothing I haven't seen before."

 

[Slayergal]

::Sam stood there stunned as Faith walked out of the guest house. Tensions were running high right now. Something was eating at Faith. Sam didn't know what. But clearly it was affecting her decisions. Sam had to agree with Xander though they needed to contact Buffy. She didn't know whether to remain silent or to go after Faith who was definately going on what she considered a suicide mission.::

Xander: "Shouldn't someone go after her?"

::Sam really didn't know Faith at all. As much as she hated Faith for having a one night stand with Riley while in Buffy's body. She felt sorry for Faith too. Faith seemed like a troubled soul.::

Xander: "I mean if we don't stand a chance fighting the sewer demon does she?"

 

[palabravampiress]

[Monastery "“ Guest House]

Xander: "Shouldn't someone go after her?"

With Faith finally gone, Xander felt free to make with the blacking out"¦ but before he could disappear into a warm and inviting fog, Sam's voice came floating out of the ether.

:: He shook his head. Forced his way back to semi-consciousness before he hit the floor"¦ but he did lean against the wall and slide down into a sitting position on the floor. ::

Safety first! Never hurts to be prepared. Hurts *a lot* to hit the deck head first.

:: Xander focused. ::

Should someone go after Faith? He wasn't sure. He'd done that once. Hadn't ended well. Had almost ended everything, in fact. Like, the whole mortal coil thing.

:: He shook his head. ::

Sam: "What? Where?"

Xander: "I mean if we don't stand a chance fighting the sewer demon does she?"

Oh. Faith. Focus, Xan-man.

Sam: "See, the thing is, I don't think she can take the sewer demon plus Drusilla plus the slayer plus whoever "“ or whatever "“ killed these girls. But I don't think we can take her either. Last time I saw her like this, I tried to help. You know what I got for my trouble? A shiny new necklace "“ of slayer shaped handprint bruises."

:: Xander paused to get his bearings. ::

Sam: "So do I feel all warm and fuzzy about sending Dawn or Riley or you after her? Nope."

:: A wave of nausea passed over Xander. He ignores it, swallowing it down "“ along with the bulk of the shooting zig zags of brain pain. ::

Things to do. People to bury. Stay with it, soldier/hyena-wannabee-guy.

:: He stood up, wobbled a bit, but remained standing. ::

Sam: "I think we're better off waiting for Buffy's word and giving Faith the chance to cool down. Also, I'm thinking getting these girls in the ground and informing their families might be on the decent human being side of things."

:: He wiped at his eye. No good. Blood and bruised, swollen flesh still clouded his vision. The eye itself was fine, thank Holy Zombie Jesus, but seeing was more of the realm of the impossible than of the other, bette one. ::

Group: "Now"¦ can someone point me toward a shovel?"

 

[Slayergal]

[Guest house]

::Thinking about what Xander said Sam responded.::

Xander: "You know I think your right Xander. Letting Faith cool off and contacting Buffy. But I am not going to in no way point you toward a shovel. Knowing my luck you'd fall in and break your neck or a leg or something. Don't worry about it Xander. Riley and I got it. We'll bury the girls."

::Sam started to move. But stopped short. Sam knew Dawn had gotten to know these girls pretty well. Sam hoped Dawn knew she didn't have to help bury them. Sam turned to Dawn hoping not to upset her as she had earlier.::

Dawn: "Do mind you mind helping Xander contact the girls' families?"

::Sam nudged Riley in the direction of the dead girl lying on the floor.::

Xander: "I guess we should ask the monks where they would like us to bury the girls before we go digging holes behind the guest house huh?"

 

[Wanabee-slayer]

:: Dawn watched Faith go, happy that they no longer had to deal with her bad temper and sometimes rogue ways.::

"See, the thing is, I don't think she can take the sewer demon plus Drusilla plus the slayer plus whoever "“ or whatever "“ killed these girls. But I don't think we can take her either. Last time I saw her like this, I tried to help. You know what I got for my trouble? A shiny new necklace "“ of slayer shaped handprint bruises."

"Faith isn't exactly the most stable person we know. Besides she's a slayer and we're kind of not. If anyone has a chance of standing up to a sewer monster it's her."

::Sam started to move. But stopped short. Sam knew Dawn had gotten to know these girls pretty well. Sam hoped Dawn knew she didn't have to help bury them. Sam turned to Dawn hoping not to upset her as she had earlier.::

Dawn: "Do mind you mind helping Xander contact the girls' families?"

:: Dawn nodded at Sam grateful for the escape from grave digging. Moving towards Xander Dawn grabbed his arm at the elbow attempting to support his weight as he faltered on his feet.::

"I guess we should ask the monks where they would like us to bury the girls before we go digging holes behind the guest house huh?"

Sam: "That's a good idea. Maybe you should take some weapons with you. Just incase?"

:: Dawn didn't know much about the monks but somehow they had managed to allow three girls to die on their premises.

Either their not very observant or they're evil, maybe both?!

:: Dawn turned her attention back to Xander wincing at the cut above his eye. ::

Xander: "Maybe we should get you cleaned up and then all their families?"

 

[GATEGOD]

[Sewer]

Lifting open the sewer lid Faith glanced around to make sure no one was watching her, then she flipped it up making it soar into the air impacting the adjacent wall as she dropped down into the sewer.

*Splash*

'Eww. And I thought the blood was bad.' she said to herself as looked down at her soaked feet. She had neglected to bring a flashlight down into the dark unlit sewer, so she was wading through the damp waters in almost pitch blackness.

Thankfully for her sake she could just make out the walls ahead, her slayery vision did come in handy. The smell was almost enough to knock her to her knees. But to do so would only further disgust her so she stood tall and continued to make her way down the sewer tunnel in search of the demon.

'If it could take out Xander, yet still leave him alive it must be a pretty crappy demon. This should be a piece of cake. On little swing of the Scythe and bye bye bady.'

The sewer turned up ahead and Faith heard someone in the distance. She slowed her step and positioned herself against the wall. She hoped to surprise whoever to come taking them down before they had a chance to react, but she didn't want a repeat of...of..Allan Finch. The Deputy Mayor. As she stood completely still the being's steps drew closer and Faith's hands gripped the scythe tightly awaiting his approach.

 

[palabravampiress]

[Monastery - Guest House]

Xander: "You know I think your right Xander. Letting Faith cool off and contacting Buffy. But I am not going to in no way point you toward a shovel. Knowing my luck you'd fall in and break your neck or a leg or something. Don't worry about it Xander. Riley and I got it. We'll bury the girls."

:: Xander nodded and attempted a chuckle. It came out more like a cough. ::

Sam: "Yeah, maybe I oughtta sit this one out."

It burned, admitting that. Made him feel all useless and sidekicky and Scrappy-Doo-like. But the wooziness, the not seeing, the not having slept in excess of 48 hours"¦ he was only human. And he wanted to stay that way.

With Xander obviously down for the count, Sam was taking charge. She turned to Dawn next.

Dawn: "Do mind you mind helping Xander contact the girls' families?"

:: Xander wiped his eye and looked over at Dawnie. ::

Dawn was strong. She didn't cry about losing the girls or freak or even start up her I'm-not-a-kid routine. She just nodded. It was a solemn nod, Xander thought before his eye got all goopy again and it was back to the land of the blind for him.

:: He felt rather than saw Dawn grab him by the elbow and help him up. He was a little jittery, but he stood. ::

Sam: "That's a good idea. Maybe you should take some weapons with you. Just incase?"

:: Xander held up his hand. ::

Sam: "I second that motion. It's dangerous out there. Crazy yeti kids running around, evil monks, Drusilla"¦ Nepal's a regular who's who of bad. Who knew?"

A wave of nausea rolled over Xander, but he kept everything down where it belonged. Wouldn't wanna hurl all over Dawnie's shoes.

Xander: "I guess we should ask the monks where they would like us to bury the girls before we go digging holes behind the guest house huh?"

Xander: "Lisa. She, uhh"¦ she wanted to be cremated. And potentially evil monks, remember? I'm not sayin' don't ask cuz, you know, their sandbox. Just be careful. And preferably armed."

:: Xander winced and wiped at his eye for what felt like the millionth gazillionth time. Apparently, this movement caused dawn to turn her attention back to him. ::

Xander: "Maybe we should get you cleaned up and then all their families?"

:: Xander nodded. ::

Dawnie: "Lead the way, Little Nurse Nightingale "“ and bring my axe. And a cross-bow."

To Sam and Riley, he said:

Sam and Riley: "Weapons. Evil monks. Careful. If I have to come rescue you, you will be the butt of every joke from now until we tke down Drusilla. And just look at her track record."

 

[Indra_RPG]

[Kathmandu "“ Chand Palace]

:: Indra crept home the way she'd come. ::

Rajnath, of course, never noticed she had gone. He snored and snored.

:: She crawled back into bed silently and drifted off to sleep. ::

Her dreams that night were filled with the images of her faith. In her Drusilla form, Kali stood on a bloody battlefield. It was dusk and the devi was surrounded by soldiers. They posed her no threat. She hacked at them with the scythe with the graceful, frenzied movements of a dancer. Myst rolled over the field. The last soldier fell. Drusilla danced on the bodies of her victims. She crushed skulls and ribs in jubilation as she gorged herself on blood. Men moaned. Some screamed. Some women, too.

Shiva, in his incarnation as the male from the sewer, was one of the dead. Drusilla raised him up. Took his dead blood in exchange for her living blood until he was whole again. They danced in the moonlight. It was an orgy of ruin and destruction.

:: From her place across the battlefield, where she was employed in the task of finishing off the moaning mortally wounded, Indra watched. ::

She could not take her eyes off of them, two divine beings running unfettered through a veritable sea of despair. The effulgent one glowed. Where he walked, light poured forth, burning through the bodies around them until he was covered in ash. The scent of burning flesh permeated everything so that Indra felt as if the inside of her nostrils had been seared.

A trickle of blood ran down Shiva's cheek. Kali licked it hungrily. They kissed the kiss of lovers. Then, their foreheads close together, they turned and faced her.

Suddenly, the battlefield was ablaze. Kali held her hand out and beckoned. Shiva raised his brow saucily.

:: Indra approached. The fire gave her only that one path, not that anything in the world could have pulled her away. ::

In the distance, an infant cried. It was Raja, crying to be suckled. And even though she had employed wet nurse for an entire year, her breasts ached and oozed.

:: She stopped. She turned. ::

Behind her, entirely consumed by the flames, stood her husband. Even his beard was on fire. His face was a charred, grotesque mask of mottled flesh. But he was determined. He held Raja high and out of harm's way as he burned. It could not last. If she did not turn back now, Rajnath would burn and Raja would fall into the flames.

Again, Drusilla and her consort beckoned. Again, Raja screamed.

:: Indra pressed forward. Her decision was made. ::

Kali and Shiva pierced her with their fangs, one god for each side of her neck. Raja fell and was silent. And then Indra rose. She was like them, strong and lithe and filled with blood lust.

Death from life. Life from death.

It was a good dream.

 

[Slayergal]

[Guest house]

::Sam stood there listening to Xander. She had to agree with Xander the monks were evil. They had the power to save the girls yet they did not. There was no way Sam was going to the monastery with out weapons. She really wanted to leave Riley at the guest house just in case who ever killed the girls came back. But yet at the same time she wanted back up in case the monks tried anything. She had a decision to make and either way she wasn't liking it.::

Xander: "Lisa wanted to be cremated? Which one is Lisa? Sorry I didn't get a chance to learn their names. What about the other two?"

::Sam started gathering up some weapons while she waited for Riley to come back in.::

Xander: "I'm gonna have Riley stay here to patrol the perimeter. Unless you think I should take Riley to monastery with me as back up? I just don't want to leave you guys without some protection. Who knows when that thing that killed the girls might come back. Hopefully I won't be gone that long though."

::Sam wanted to kick herself for not pushing Riley into bringing a back up team of commandos. She had tried to push the issue before they had ever left the base here in Nepal and flew to the slayer training camp to ask for their help. She understood Riley's reason but now it seemed like things were taking a turn for the worse. They were pretty much rendered useless. Spike had been taken. Xander was blind. Faith had taken off in wait seemed rogue streak. 3 potential slayers were dead. That only left herself, Riley, and Dawn. Apparently Xander hadn't been successful at reaching Buffy. Three or even four people (if you could even count Faith) that wasn't nearly enough to fight off a rogue slayer, Drusilla, yeti girl, sewer demon, and evil monks. Sam was starting to feel sick to her stomach just thinking about it.::

 

[palabravampiress]

[Monastery - Guest House]

Before Dawnie could lead the way the bathroom or the kitchen or whichever room it was that contained the best in the way of cleaning-up-bloody-eye supplies (the way things are going for me today, the evil monks will have filled the first aid kit with sand), Sam double-checked her facts.

Xander: "Lisa wanted to be cremated? Which one is Lisa? Sorry I didn't get a chance to learn their names. What about the other two?"

:: Xander shifted his weight uncomfortably and croaked out a reply. ::

She fought with them, but didn't even know their names? he thought. Yeah, well, she's not a Scooby. She's a newbie. hey! That rhymed. I mean... I trained them. Poorly. Trained them into getting killed! anyway, I should know their names. She has an excuse.

Sam: "Lisa. She was the one who fought the yeti. She died out front. The other two - Rachel and Emily - were your typical put-me-in-the-ground types."

And hey, guess I did *that.*

Xander heard the tell-tale clink of weapons-gathering. Heck, he could even name them by ear: sword, crossbow, commando thing-he-didn't-know, commando thing he *did* know and didn't like (a gun)... Scobbying. Go Joe!

Xander: "I'm gonna have Riley stay here to patrol the perimeter. Unless you think I should take Riley to monastery with me as back up? I just don't want to leave you guys without some protection. Who knows when that thing that killed the girls might come back. Hopefully I won't be gone that long though."

:: Xander spread his arms out in a don't-ask-me gesture. ::

Sam: "He's your husband. This is dangerous. The last two to try a perimeter patrol got shish-kabobbed. I'm not touching this one with a ten-foot-pole."

:: He paused and looked at Sam in earnest... or at least he tried to. He could have been looking at a wall. Or a monk. Or a yeti, for all he knew. ::

Sam: "If I had it to do over again, I woulda stuck by Anya back at the school."

Xander turned to Dawn, who was still grasping him by the elbow as if he might fall down -- which, you know, he might, so that was definitely of the good.

Dawn: "All right. Let's get with the bandaging and the next-of-kin calling."

Group: "By the way, once we're done doing right by these girls, is anyone else thinking that a hotel might be a safer bet? I'm thinking two adjoining rooms paid for by the council... or maybe a suite, if they have suites in Nepal. Upscale all the way. With room service and everything. The works. Maybe even a massage or two. Our cover's obviously blown. No need to stay all rustic and low-profiley."

 

[Wanabee-slayer]

[Guest house]

Xander: "Lisa wanted to be cremated? Which one is Lisa? Sorry I didn't get a chance to learn their names. What about the other two?"

:: Dawn stiffened as Sam asked her question. It seemed impossible not to know the slayer's name. A person Sam had fought with, whom they'd all fought beside and she didn't even have the decency to learn her name. Fighting back tears Dawn did her best to remain strong. ::

[Monastery - Guest House]

Sam: "Lisa. She was the one who fought the yeti. She died out front. The other two - Rachel and Emily - were your typical put-me-in-the-ground types."

:: Dawn was grateful to Xander for fielding the question as she tried to ignore the bile as it nearly choked her. Her friends were dead and here they stood discussing how to dispose of the bodies. It all seemed wrong somehow, this conversation should have never taken place. These girls were her age and they'd died and somehow it was all very wrong. ::

Sam: "If I had it to do over again, I woulda stuck by Anya back at the school."

Xander turned to Dawn, who was still grasping him by the elbow as if he might fall down -- which, you know, he might, so that was definitely of the good.

Dawn: "All right. Let's get with the bandaging and the next-of-kin calling."

Group: "By the way, once we're done doing right by these girls, is anyone else thinking that a hotel might be a safer bet? I'm thinking two adjoining rooms paid for by the council... or maybe a suite, if they have suites in Nepal. Upscale all the way. With room service and everything. The works. Maybe even a massage or two. Our cover's obviously blown. No need to stay all rustic and low-profiley."

:: Dawn smiled albeit a forcefully as she grabbed Xander and lead him towards her's and Spike's room. It seemed like the smart option seeing as Dawn had packed half the training camp's medical supplies in her suitcase. She hadn't thought that she'd need them but it always seemed important. Walking into the room Dawn guided Xander to and immediatley moved to her suitcase, rummaging through it for any sign of first aid treatment and smiling as she found it. ::

Xander: "This may hurt a bit."

:: Grabbing a swab and antiseptic Dawn tended to Xander's wound being as gentle as was humanly possible. As the wound was disinfected and the blood wiped from his eye Dawn managed to dress the wound with bandages and smiled at her handiwork. ::

Xander :"All better. Well kind of. I'm not exactly a doctor but I'm kind of getting good at this."

:: Disposing of the bloodied medical supplies Dawn went to return everything that had remained unused into her open suitcase. ::

 

[palabravampiress]

[Monastery - Guest House, Dawn's room]

:: Xander followed Dawnie to her room and sat on one of the beds. ::

She then proceeded to dump the contents of two more or less complete first aid kits down onto the mattress.

He had to admire her preparedness. She took to the Scooby life like... well, like something very sticky and well-suited. He didn't even want to think the duck thing.

Dawn: "Antiseptic and bandages: essential tools of the trade for us non-super types. Why do I never think of that? Instead, I'm alll like: Hammer? Check. Neosporin? Neo-whatin?"

Xander: "This may hurt a bit."

Dawn swabbed some liquid of the burning variety onto Xander's wound.

:: He bit his lip manfully, and then he reverted to form and winced. ::

Because you know: I am sissy, hear me roar.

Dawn: "I'd say Ow, but that would just be stating the obvious and also very wimp-like."

:: He winced again as more burning liquid was applied. ::

Dawn: "No, wait. I don't care. Ow."

:: He sort of chuckled. A little levity felt good. Then, of course, he remembered the dead slayers and his smile petered out. ::

Dawn bandaged the wound above his eye so that he could still see, if only a little bit. Of course, that would improve once the mondo-bruising and swelling went down. At any rate, he could see her smile admiringly at her work.

Must not look like a complete idiot, then, he thought. His eyes sought the mirror. Nope. Just wishful thinking. Somebody sign me up as an extra in a zombie movie.

Xander :"All better. Well kind of. I'm not exactly a doctor but I'm kind of getting good at this."

Dawnie: "You are good at this. Very good. Just call her Doctor Dawnie. Next thing you know, you'll be using words like stat and cc."

:: Dawn cleaned up and then Xander pulled out his cell phone. He sighed. ::

Dawn: "So. Guess that means it's bear the bad news time."

:: Thinking she'd need the support -- those girls had been her friends, after all -- Xander grasped Dawn's hand while he made the calls. ::

Lisa's family were of old Watcher lineage, so with them, at least, he could be honest. He wasn't sure whether that made it easier or harder, but there it was all the same. The truth: she was murdered. Not sure by what or whom. Grieve in stoic, watcher-like peace, family.

With Rachel and Emily, he had to get a bit creative. The excuse he finally settled upon was communicable disease; it explained why he couldn't ship the bodies overseas to be buried at home.

:: Xander pocketed his phone. ::

Dawn: "Huh. I keep lying like that, I could end up President."

:: Xander tousled Dawnie's hair and pulled her into a backwards hug, just like he had back when she was a kid. He'd done it at the morgue, too, back when Joyce had died, but he didn't want to think about that. Back then, death had still been shocking. Now, it was routine. Like brushing his teeth before bed. Or showering. More people, more death. Made him sort of nostalgic for the good old days on the Hellmouth. ::

Dawn: "How're you doin' there, Dawnie?"

:: Xander sighed and looked out the window. ::

How're the Commandos doing out there? he wondered to himself. He hoped if they went out, they went out fighting and they went out together.

Predictably, his thoughts started to wander toward Anya, so he shook his head and turned his attention back to Dawn. She was here. Alive. Warm. He could feel her heartbeat against his chest. He could feel the friction of her back against his chest as she breathed in and out. Dawn was corporeal. Real. Here. She was who mattered now. And Sam and Riley and even Faith. And Spike. He guessed.

Joyce will never have any more fruit punch. Not ever.

Anya was in the past. Anya would never drink fruit punch. She would never yawn or brush her hair, either. Neither would Lisa. Or Rachel. Or Emily. But Xander would. Every day. Alone.

:: Xander sighed and stroked Dawn's hair tenderly. ::

Dawn: "Do me a favor? Come to the kitchen and drink some fruit punch with me? What'd ya say?"

It wasn't much, but it was all he could do just then to honor the dead.

 

[Wanabee-slayer]

[Monastery - Guest House, Dawn's room]

:: Thinking she'd need the support -- those girls had been her friends, after all -- Xander grasped Dawn's hand while he made the calls. ::

:: Dawn smiled gratefully and grasped Xander's hand firmly in her own. She winced as Xander spoke of her friend's deaths and gave out details to loved ones. Whether or not the facts were false or not, the final result was the same. Her friends were dead and now their families were left to pick up the pieces of their shattered lives. She'd done the same after the losses of both her mother and sister.::

Ok so Buffy kind of came back but I didn't know that was gonna happen.

:: Xander tousled Dawnie's hair and pulled her into a backwards hug, just like he had back when she was a kid. He'd done it at the morgue, too, back when Joyce had died, but he didn't want to think about that. Back then, death had still been shocking. Now, it was routine. Like brushing his teeth before bed. Or showering. More people, more death. Made him sort of nostalgic for the good old days on the Hellmouth. ::

Dawn: "How're you doin' there, Dawnie?"

:: Dawn relaxed into the hug allowing herself to be comforted by her childhood hero and close friend. Dawn sighed a reply and managed to hold back tears as they burned her eyes. ::

:: Xander sighed and stroked Dawn's hair tenderly. ::

Dawn: "Do me a favor? Come to the kitchen and drink some fruit punch with me? What'd ya say?"

It wasn't much, but it was all he could do just then to honor the dead.

Xander: "Sure."