024: [location: in ur sky] ad astra
There is a reason Buffy doesn't like her birthday. In fact there are several reasons, though for the sake of brevity, let us just say 'most of them have sucked'. It seems this one, her twenty-fifth, is fated to be just as eventful as the others.
When she opens her eyes, it's from a dream that was too real to be a dream. The magic, Twilight's forces, Willow and the flying submarine, Tibet, Oz, Bay, the werewolves, losing her powers, trying to fight Twilight's army without them, invoking the goddesses, all the death, the destruction, the bodies on both sides, and then falling... falling... waking up in the snow, and then flying-- Xander. Her feelings for Xander. Xander and Dawn. Kicking the goddesses' Godzilla-sized asses. Flying.
The memories, all clamouring in her head at once, prompt her to sit up and push her duvet aside. There's so much to think about, and her bedroom suddenly feels stifling. Pulling some less pajama-like clothes on, she then makes her way out of the castle, into the crisp early morning faux-Taxon-winter air. Hesitantly, because she isn't sure if this is going to work-- or if she even wants it to work (flying is scary. Really scary. And weird), she balls her fists and wills herself upwards.
...oh hey, it works.
[ ooc: canon update to issue #31! Feel free to wave/yell/gape in awe/throw rocks at her, and I'll have her drop in to say hi. ]
When she opens her eyes, it's from a dream that was too real to be a dream. The magic, Twilight's forces, Willow and the flying submarine, Tibet, Oz, Bay, the werewolves, losing her powers, trying to fight Twilight's army without them, invoking the goddesses, all the death, the destruction, the bodies on both sides, and then falling... falling... waking up in the snow, and then flying-- Xander. Her feelings for Xander. Xander and Dawn. Kicking the goddesses' Godzilla-sized asses. Flying.
The memories, all clamouring in her head at once, prompt her to sit up and push her duvet aside. There's so much to think about, and her bedroom suddenly feels stifling. Pulling some less pajama-like clothes on, she then makes her way out of the castle, into the crisp early morning faux-Taxon-winter air. Hesitantly, because she isn't sure if this is going to work-- or if she even wants it to work (flying is scary. Really scary. And weird), she balls her fists and wills herself upwards.
...oh hey, it works.
[ ooc: canon update to issue #31! Feel free to wave/yell/gape in awe/throw rocks at her, and I'll have her drop in to say hi. ]