strangelyliteral

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[Waking up unceremoniously in Luceti with no idea of where she is and what she is doing there is of course a disorienting experience. Anya finds herself out on the beach, lying prone on the sand. It could be Sunnydale, except the area she's been deposited in doesn't have much surrounding it besides sand and blue skies.

Her back hurts, and by the time she sits herself up and reaches back there...] Wings? Is this a joke?

[Some more time passes with her half-ranting to herself, trying to get oriented and squinting at the placement of the sun. She almost misses the fact that the journal is there completely, save when she finally starts to walk and nearly trips over the thing, half buried in the sand.]

[Accidental voice]

- Ow! I have sand in places that I don't want to think about, there's no sign of anyone - what is this, a book? I don't even get a pair of shoes, or even suntan lotion, I just get a lousy book? [She turns the journal over in her hands, pages rustling, her image still not visible, though there's the sound of the ocean's waves in the background.] ... my name is on this book. This just entered a new level of creepy.

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[ the sand shifts underfoot. it makes the walk just a little longer than it ought to be. ]

We gathered the girls, there. In Scotland. Started a few international Slayer squads. We're a full on organization, now.

So they are all full-blooded slayers now? I feel like I missed something here.

[ that's right. anya wouldn't have... ]

Y-yeah. Willow's spell worked a charm. Every girl who could have been a Slayer? Now is. There's hundreds of them. Maybe thousands.

It's a little hard to imagine all of them pepped up with actual power. So ... if the spell worked, it had nothing to do with us all ending up here?

I wish it did. Maybe then I'd know how to fix it. As it is? That spell's...kinda old and long done.

[Befuddling. That seemed like a good word to describe this situation. Her brows furrowed in thought, still trying to absorb the details about the dimension along with some ... really odd time discrepancies. Her head hurt.]

Can we go back to the part where you were starting to make sense? Actually, wait, scratch that, since that part never actually happened.

[ buffy sucks a breath in through her teeth. they're almost at the house, though. that's a small relief. ]

Let's just say there's a larger difference between you and me than the four years I spent here, Anya.

I figured that part out when you started talking about juiced up Slayers and living in Scotland. [Hopeful.] Unless I just hit my head really hard and don't remember?

Right. But the bitter pill to swallow might still be coming. Unless...

[ she reaches for cullen house's large double doors. ] Unless you remember more than just the fight?

Just me, Andy, some Ubervamps, some dust, you know, a right old party for the totally not powerful group.

[She looks up at the house.] Admiral-guy's place, right? Is it safe?

Very safe. Trust me; I know this place pretty well. Before he lived here, I spent a lot a time in this house. No electricity, but it makes up for it with the view.

[ she avoid discussing the battle for sunnydale a moment longer, propping the door open with her shoulder and waiting for anya to join her. ]

... Right. Okay.

[She glances back once to said-view behind her before stepping inside the door.]

[ the furniture is simple and the décor is austere. buffy passes the large, empty fireplace and drops her coat onto the couch. she cocks her head, trying to hear if norrington's around -- but it seems as though he isn't. all the better. ]

There's an empty room down the hall if you wanna get changed. There's a few things in that bag. Sandals, too. Just...be careful with the feathers. Meanwhile? I'll get us a glass of something tall, clear and watery.

Yeah, I need a few minutes. And a washcloth too, if there are any clean ones.

There's a narrow closet by the room. It should still have linen and things, so long as James hasn't gone and reorganized the whole place. There's a washroom there, as well. But -- careful, no hot water.

Thanks for the tip.

[Still studying the house curiously, she'll take the walk down the hall, still trying to situate herself. Mentally, it wasn't working; being able to change her clothes and wash up, at least, would give her something to do. Something solid, real. As real as that sword had been in her hands just before she woke up here.]

[ buffy nudged her foot into the fireplace's ashes. really, she should be getting a glass of water. or something. she'll wait -- double-check with anya over whether that's what was wanted. otherwise, she tried to come to terms with this revelation.

she wills herself to be sour over it all. to wish someone else had come, instead. but she finds herself coming up empty on bitterness. it's hard to resent someone who has -- known or not -- been given a chance to live again.

the slayer sighs. turns 'round. surveys the room that housed so many memories of when she and sparrow had just been starting out. maybe she might half miss those days.

called down the hall: ] Was I right? Was it a linen closet?

[The three rooms ahead (almost disappointingly) were laid out just as the Slayer had said; spare room, with a chair that she had propped the supplies and journal on, linen closet, though a little sparse - after some scrounging she does find a handkerchief -]

Yes, it's a closet!

[Before stepping over to the washroom. No hot water, but hadn't she had centuries of no running water? This was nothing. Not with the way signs were dangerously pointing toward something she might not want to hear.

No real answers. What did she want to hear?]

She wrings out the cloth and heads back toward the spare room, the door closing a little harder than necessary. Not quite a slam, but something more than a little click. Frustration.

It still doesn't take as long as she'd like. Five minutes, maybe, give or take. The wings were the hardest part - were those... holes in the shirt for them? They were such bizarre appendages. There may be small grunts of frustration overheard as she wrestles the shirt on.]

[ buffy surprises herself by flinching at the not-quite-slammed door. the sound seems to echo through the concrete-and-wood house. it always seemed so cold, this place. even in the summer. even with the fire lit. it had never been entirely welcoming, though she suspects its once-owner had done his best.

she peers out a window and sees jack's boat in the distance. she thinks about how she missed sailing with him -- proper him -- and made a mental note to go again soon. maybe ask james along if he...

she hears noises. is anya having trouble? buffy crosses the room on quiet footfalls and hovers outside the closed door. ] ...Everything okay in there?

[Anya bristles. She doesn't want to ask for help. Especially not from Buffy.] Why are these wings so important again?

[At least in the summer, she had backless halters which could make this easier. But for the now? It so wasn't worth it.] They keep getting in the way. I feel like I should be carrying around a harp.

[ she leans against the closed door. ]

Think of them like...genetic camouflage, I guess. In order to fit in with the rest of the world, we need wings. They're a part of us, now. Vital.

... so an adaptation to survive in the dimension. Probably due to some wish gone awry.

[She gets it. One of the pros to being a demon is understanding the weirder stuff more easily than the mundane stuff.] There has to be some trick to these holes that I am missing.

[ huh. buffy takes a moment to muse over the fact that anya is indeed understanding this better than one could have hoped. though she's still not certain about the whole...wish part. ]

Just -- relax. Take a deeeeeeep breath. And go one hole at a time. A-and be grateful you -- like me -- are not someone who needs extra support. As awkward as shirts are, I can't even begin to describe what a pain it is to put on a bra.

[The technical stuff isn't so hard when it's put into perspective. It's all the other little confusing factors that still aren't adding up.

She's not going to worry about that for now, instead taking the Slayer's advice, a deep breath followed by biting down on her lip. It still takes a little over a minute due to her taking care - as well as that persistent soreness - but finally she manages the feat.] -- Whew!

[ through the door: ] When you're ready, I'll take you back to the village. Luckily, it does have electricity.

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