[open] He always said she was good as gold
Who: Cordelia Chase
What: Arrival Shenanigans
When: Day 36
Where: Town Square
Cordelia Chase had been called a lot of things in her time, but fictional? Definitely not one of them.
Cordelia had been through a lot over the years. She had grown up on a Hellmouth. She had been a seer-had hundreds of powerful, angry, painful visions-to help Angel save the world. She was a higher being, possessed by a higher being, and had just spent the last nine months in a coma, and managed to come back long enough to pass on what she could to Angel and say goodbye, and she gets sent here somehow, where some asshole tells her that she is his own fictional creation and that everything she was came from his head.
She did not agree with this idiot whoever he was. She spent most of the time that he was explaining things to her, screaming back at him that he couldn’t just invalidate her existence the way he had. Her suffering was real. Her pain was real. Her happiness was real. But he wasn’t really one for debate, so all that really got her was a trip to town square with an envelope, a journal, and a really, really bad mood.
“Hey! You can’t just tell me I’m not a real person and shove me off like that!” she shouted to … no one in particular because the jerk was gone. “Stupid afterlifes.” It had to be. There was no other option.
Oh, and did she mention it was raining and she was quickly getting soaked?
“Oh, great,” she said with a groan, shaking her hands to get rid of the excess water. “You gotta be kidding me.”
What: Arrival Shenanigans
When: Day 36
Where: Town Square
Cordelia Chase had been called a lot of things in her time, but fictional? Definitely not one of them.
Cordelia had been through a lot over the years. She had grown up on a Hellmouth. She had been a seer-had hundreds of powerful, angry, painful visions-to help Angel save the world. She was a higher being, possessed by a higher being, and had just spent the last nine months in a coma, and managed to come back long enough to pass on what she could to Angel and say goodbye, and she gets sent here somehow, where some asshole tells her that she is his own fictional creation and that everything she was came from his head.
She did not agree with this idiot whoever he was. She spent most of the time that he was explaining things to her, screaming back at him that he couldn’t just invalidate her existence the way he had. Her suffering was real. Her pain was real. Her happiness was real. But he wasn’t really one for debate, so all that really got her was a trip to town square with an envelope, a journal, and a really, really bad mood.
“Hey! You can’t just tell me I’m not a real person and shove me off like that!” she shouted to … no one in particular because the jerk was gone. “Stupid afterlifes.” It had to be. There was no other option.
Oh, and did she mention it was raining and she was quickly getting soaked?
“Oh, great,” she said with a groan, shaking her hands to get rid of the excess water. “You gotta be kidding me.”