calime: Smaug; text: Lurking worm (spike)
...and the snow has melted. I have pancakes. With ice cream. Also, coffee.
Spent last evening/night watching Buffy. [ profile] sparklebutch has earned every right to gloat over his awesome pimping powers (it's probably another facet of that magic of his *grins*), because especially after "Becoming" I am kinda getting the whole Joss worship thing. Amongst other things, apparently Joss bestows good sleep and pretty dreams, from what fragments I can recall.
*muses* Isn't it interesting what kind of fascinating golden idols a fangirl nowadays bows to? Joss Whedon... Russell T. Davies, ... Kripke ... Bellisario (but, you, I warn you, if you put too much Mann into NCIS, I might withdraw my worship. Also, my ancestors were known for whipping failed idols. With willow birches.)...*cough* Um, where were we? Oh, yes, pancakes and Joss. 'Tis little things that make the world better.
And there is the Pet Shop Boys concert tomorrow *fondles ticket inappropriately, but with joy and tenderness*.
calime: Smaug; text: Lurking worm (spike)
I suppose I watched "Innocence" too much, or I can blame the fact that I used to know the "Ballad of Reading Gaol" by heart.
Fandom: BtVS
Disclaimer: Nothing I have is really mine. Anything from Jossverse, even less. Methinks Oscar Wilde's works are already in the public domain.
Notes: Sincere thanks go to [ profile] sparklebutch and [ profile] ceruleancat for beta and advice and support. Also, for pimping. Everything that is still wrong is my fault:)
Takes place during Buffy season 2 ep "Innocence". The quote in the beginning is straight from the episode.
Poem quoted isThe Ballad of Reading Gaol, by Oscar Wilde
So, in the words of two dead Irishmen (and Drusilla, who knows Angelus so well)...

Angelus: Spike, my boy, you *really* don't get it! Do you? You tried to kill her, but you couldn't. Look at you. You're a wreck! She's stronger than any Slayer you've ever faced. Force won't get it done. You gotta work from the inside. To kill this girl ... you have to love her.

Spike smiled, an appreciative, secret smile and drawled, "For each man kills the thing he loves ..." There was mockery in his voice that - for a reason Angelus preferred not to dwell on - failed to reach his eyes.

Later, in the lazy sated predawn, with Spike curled up by his side and Drusilla lying with her head on his chest, the words of the dead Irishman came back to whisper quietly in his head.

Yet each man kills the thing he loves ...

He reached to comb through Dru’s dark locks with his fingers in the unspoken rhythm of the cadenzas. Lovely, deadly, dead.

The kindest use a knife, because
The dead so soon grow cold.

The harsh lamplight broke on the sleek surface of the hair and for a moment it appeared not dark chestnut, but light wheat under his hand.

Angelus smiled. He was not a kind man. He had never been known for that particular trait.
calime: Smaug; text: Lurking worm (good job)
Thanks to the awesome pimping powers of [ profile] sparklebutch I've been watching Buffy recently. "Halloween" was one of the niftier eps so far. Today in chat [ profile] sparklebutch mentioned a Buffy/Sentinel crossover where Ethan sold something to Blair and I asked with half of my brain active and other half just lazing around: "What, did Ethan got investigated for illegal costuming?" And immediately on the heels of that came the realisation that it'd be a rather logical (crack, most likely, but who cares) story premise to cast Ethan as one of those travelling-between-universes magic-shop-keepers from the Discworld universe (or, to use the Discworld scientific term, taberna vagantes *g*). Especially if one proscribes to the third theory for the existance of those, which postulates that they are a very clever way of sidestepping all kinds of lawas that prohibit dealing on Sundays.
The sad thing is that even if I knew Ethan well enough, I am not able to write Discworld much in the true tone of books, and though [ profile] sparklebutch has no trouble with Ethan, he claims that he only ever writes one Discworld character, and I don't really see... (well, I can see, but maybe we'll not go into the ideas about Death, Ethan and dam weir bridge). In short, there's a plot bunny embryo feebly flopping around on the table between empty beer bottles and teacups ... does anyone have some blood to offer to feed the poor creature? Seems mine is the wrong type...

July 2017

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