Five by Five

[Buffy - Filtered 57%]

Hey, B. [I'm back] Anything new I oughta know about Drusilla and her latest boy toy?

[/end filter]

[When the audio feed begins, the sounds of whispers and quiet murmurs can be heard in the background, though they're too distant and jumbled to pick out the individual messages.

Faith, however, can be heard clearly...and while she's not freaked out, she's definitely on guard.]

Seeing as I've been off playing civic servant, or whatever you wanna call it, does anyone wanna tell me why I just landed in the middle of a Disney movie? The talking animals were weird enough, but now I gotta listen to trees? That's just overkill.

[the sound of brush crunching underfoot starts as she turns towards the village, making her way through the trees]

I'm just sayin'...if some stuffed up pimp comes galloping through on a white horse, I'm not responsible for my--

[she trails off as she catches a familiar name coming from one of the trees, falling silent in order to listen. She moves closer to the source, letting her catch the tail end of what the trees are saying.]

"--super phallic imagery of shoving a sword through your lover's chest."

[She's forgotten the journal's in her hand, now, as she just stares uncertainly at the bark]

...Hold up. Are you telling me that--

"Well I heard that the other slayer totally has a thing for Buffy. It’s obvious she just wants to get in her pants."

[She gives a strangled noise as she takes a few steps back, caught between confusion and pure fury]

The fuck?!

[someone want to speak up before she sees if she's strong enough to uproot a tree?]

[she dreamt of a picnic.

Mayor Wilkins was there. Happy. Whole. Cracking his stupid, corny jokes that should have made her roll her eyes...except they didn't. There was a nagging sense of deja vu, like she'd seen this before and it hadn't ended well, but they finished their meal and he talked with her and...nothing happened. It was perfect.

She was content enough that she laid back on the grass and closed her eyes, just enjoying the breeze against her face and the fact that, for once, she didn't have to be on edge.

When she woke, she could still feel the hint of that breeze. An illusion, of course. Something left over from her imagination, because you didn't get wind in prison cells. She kept her eyes closed though, trying to pretend, because she wasn't quite ready to let it go...except there was a dull ache between her shoulder blades that wouldn't let her fully relax. Finally, she swore, grit her teeth, and opened her eyes-





...And stared.

It takes a few minutes of quietly freaking out before she finds the journal, and a few more before she gets ahold of herself enough to attempt to use it. She was from Sunnydale...She could handle screwed up. She'd figure it out as she went. Right?

When she actually speaks, she sounds pretty chill, especially to anyone who doesn't know what she sounds like when she's wigged.]

So...not saying I totally buy the whole "this is real" thing, 'cause this is all kinds of messed up...but pretending I did...where's a girl gotta go to get a hard drink around here?

[because she really, really needed one]