Willow Rosenberg (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
guiltapalooza) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2012-04-07 09:46 pm
guiltapalooza) wrote in towerofanimus2012-04-07 09:46 pm
❝what rushes into my heart and my skull❞
Characters Willow (guiltapalooza) and you! OPEN.
Setting: The second floor hall.
Format: Action tags.
Warnings: Mentions of violent death.
Summary: A few days after her death, Willow still hasn't gotten her magic back, but this time it isn't the tower's fault. (Also includes a thread for immediately after her resurrection to log with Eridan.) There will be opportunity later to violently harass her, I promise, but for now friendlies only, please?
[Her heart is in her throat, loudly enough that she'd almost think anyone nearby could hear it and know she was there. But she'd been holing up in Eridan's room for a couple days now, ever since she'd come back to life, and at some point she needed to leave. She needed food, for one thing, and for another she had to sleep in her own bed soon or she'd start going crazy.
Her magic still hadn't come back, and it terrified her. Nothing worked. No amount of meditation, prayer, or supplication, no spell she'd tried could coax it out. Magic was what Willow defined herself by, the thing that gave her any amount of self-confidence; without it, she wasn't anything. She was almost useless, just that dumb little girl in high school who'd chased after Buffy and Xander like a pathetic puppy, desperate for attention and approval. She may have committed mistake after mistake with her magic, may have done some undeniably terrible, awful things, but it gave her power. It made her someone.
Not that she regretted helping Eridan. But she'd made a lot of enemies here, and she knew they wouldn't balk at taking the chance to tear her apart while she was defenseless. She just had to hold out. It was temporary -- had to be temporary.
She peeks her head tentatively outside the door, and starts to slowly edge into the hallway. Any of her previous cheer from last week has been drained from her completely, and left behind is a wan, blank-faced girl.]
(forwwaterboy)
[The sleep paralysis is worse than she'd given it credit for. The first time she'd woken up here, she'd been freaked and scared, sure; but now, the ten minutes last forever, her mind replaying endlessly what had happened. Her breathing is uneven with grief, tears sliding from her eyes and down her cheeks even as she can't move.
The second feeling returns, she lurches out of bed, half-stumbling and half-racing out the door and down to his room. She has to see for herself, or she won't be able to believe it. There's always a first time for someone to not come back.]
guiltapalooza) and you! OPEN.Setting: The second floor hall.
Format: Action tags.
Warnings: Mentions of violent death.
Summary: A few days after her death, Willow still hasn't gotten her magic back, but this time it isn't the tower's fault. (Also includes a thread for immediately after her resurrection to log with Eridan.) There will be opportunity later to violently harass her, I promise, but for now friendlies only, please?
[Her heart is in her throat, loudly enough that she'd almost think anyone nearby could hear it and know she was there. But she'd been holing up in Eridan's room for a couple days now, ever since she'd come back to life, and at some point she needed to leave. She needed food, for one thing, and for another she had to sleep in her own bed soon or she'd start going crazy.
Her magic still hadn't come back, and it terrified her. Nothing worked. No amount of meditation, prayer, or supplication, no spell she'd tried could coax it out. Magic was what Willow defined herself by, the thing that gave her any amount of self-confidence; without it, she wasn't anything. She was almost useless, just that dumb little girl in high school who'd chased after Buffy and Xander like a pathetic puppy, desperate for attention and approval. She may have committed mistake after mistake with her magic, may have done some undeniably terrible, awful things, but it gave her power. It made her someone.
Not that she regretted helping Eridan. But she'd made a lot of enemies here, and she knew they wouldn't balk at taking the chance to tear her apart while she was defenseless. She just had to hold out. It was temporary -- had to be temporary.
She peeks her head tentatively outside the door, and starts to slowly edge into the hallway. Any of her previous cheer from last week has been drained from her completely, and left behind is a wan, blank-faced girl.]
(for
wwaterboy)[The sleep paralysis is worse than she'd given it credit for. The first time she'd woken up here, she'd been freaked and scared, sure; but now, the ten minutes last forever, her mind replaying endlessly what had happened. Her breathing is uneven with grief, tears sliding from her eyes and down her cheeks even as she can't move.
The second feeling returns, she lurches out of bed, half-stumbling and half-racing out the door and down to his room. She has to see for herself, or she won't be able to believe it. There's always a first time for someone to not come back.]
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