ext_12572: (Chloe Curious)
[identity profile] sinanju.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] crossing_lostrp
Who: Chloe Sullivan (Faith's body)
Where: The cafeteria
When: Nearly noon (about six hours after Who Da Man)
Invited: Tara, Willow, Molly, Daniel, Dean, Sam, anyone else with an interest
Status: Complete

After the third annoyed glance at her Chloe realized she was drumming her fingers on the counter. It took a deliberate effort of will to stop. The itch to do something was becoming unbearable. She felt antsy, unable to sit still. Chloe wondered if this was some side effect of having Faith's hyped-up "Slayer" metabolism, or some kind of predatory instinct that went with it.

Or maybe she was just bored.

Other than asking the obvious question of Ash--"Where did you get that spell?"--and wrestling the trunkful of books into the cafeteria--she'd had bupkis to contribute to the research. Her considerable research mojo was useless when it came to reading Greek, Latin, Russian, Sumerian, and even more exotic languages. It was only to be expected that The Doctor could read them all; that huge ego seemed to be more than justified from what Chloe knew of him. And Daniel Jackson's mastery of numerous languages wasn't terribly surprising. That Willow could read some of it was a little surprising, but since she seemed to have experience with magic and grimoires it made sense.

But Ash? It galled Chloe that he could read everything. It was slightly less galling to discover that Rose, Jack, Jon, Tara--and McKay, if he'd stuck around--could all read all these books too. Chloe began to wish she'd gone on the trip to the Tardis. She was feeling like a fifth wheel around here.

(Not that they're having much luck,) Chloe thought, looking around. The circle of salt had been swept up and disposed of along with the bowl of polluted coffee, and the tables and chairs restored to their usual places. The trunk sat on the kitchen counter and the books had been divvied up among those who could read them. Ash had been mercilessly grilled on the details of exactly how he'd cast his spell.

Chloe had had high hopes that they'd quickly find a solution. Now, hours later, it was apparent that a solution would be a long time in coming. The group could read the books, but the books were mostly badly written; rambling tomes in archaic dialects, universally lacking any sort of index or table of contents. They were also full of obscure phrases, hidden assumptions, metaphors, similies, and deliberate obfuscation. The authors had been a miserablly paranoid, selfish and obsessive lot, Chloe concluded. Just finding a relevant spell would be time-consuming.

There had been a couple of false alarms, but upon closer examination the spells were useless. One required material components unavailable to them. Another might have worked, but it required a human sacrifice. Ripley had eyed Ash speculatively but said nothing, provoking a few knowing chuckles and getting a mulish look from Ash.

Now, leaning against the counter impatiently, frustrated by being unable to help, Chloe found her attention wandering. George had long since wandered away and Chloe wondered what she was doing. Or whom? Nah--Chloe suspected George had reached her limit with the three of them. As opposed to Faith, who had continued flirting shamelessly with virtually everyone in her quest to get as much pleasure out of the experience as possible.

Watching Dean flipping through one of the books and bickering with Sam, Chloe was beginning to think that maybe Faith had a point. He was a good looking guy, and had a dangerous 'bad boy' edge that was very attractive. Nothing like Clark, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Faith had already said that he knew what he was doing. Maybe...maybe she should see for herself.


Date: 2007-06-08 11:26 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] starborn-scribe.livejournal.com
The trunk of books that Chloe/Faith had brought to the cafeteria was a treasure trove, and that was based just from the books written in English and Latin. Sam had found a simple spell that would have sent the anga that had thoroughly kicked his and Dean's asses back to its corner of hell. Ultimate he and his brother had killed the thing. The twenty-word spell would have saved them a trip to the emergency room and a week of recuperation.

Sam glanced at Dean. He was semi-surreptitiously eyeing Chloe while pretending to read a Latin text. "Hey," Sam prompted.


Sam slid the tome with the anti-anga spell to Dean. "Copy this into Dad's journal."

Dean frowned petulantly. "Again? What do I look like, your secretary?"

"Since you're doing more ogling than reading, yeah."

Dean pouted some more, but exchanged books with Sam. "Friggin' hate Latin," he grumbled. As his eyes scanned the page his expression brightened. "Hey! This woulda sent that fugly anga back to hell." He flipped Dad's journal open to a fresh page and started copying without complaint.

Tara and Willow looked up. "Anga?" they asked simultaneously.

"Yeah," Sam explained. "We ran across one in Topeka a few months ago."

Dean added, "Ran across, then ran over. So to speak."

"You *killed* it?" Willow asked, wide-eyed.

It took Sam a few moments to find his voice. The redhead was cute, sexy, and powerful. Sam wasn't sure how much of his attraction to her was his and how much was the from demon inside him. After the events during the past few days he could no longer deny his... infection. "Yeah. Nearly killed us."

"Wow," the girls breathed. Sam was ridiculously pleased by the attention.

"Y-you're sure you never heard of the Watcher's Council?" Tara asked. She gestured at Dad's journal. "Your father, too?"

Dean shook his head. "Nuh-uh. Either they're that secret, or..." He didn't finish the sentence. The group had discussed the possibility that the yellow-eyed demon had sent Sam and Dean to an alternate reality earlier. The notion was unsettling to say the least.

"I wish we'd heard of them," Sam remarked. Then he turned his attention to the book Dean had been not reading. Sam skimmed the Latin text, then turned the page. What he read next made him laugh with surprise and delight.

"What?" the others at the table queried.

"This is it!" Sam exclaimed, still chuckling. "And the main component? Coconuts!"

OOC: I'm thinking that coconut shells could be the symbolic "bodies" for the spell.


Date: 2007-06-08 04:11 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] purplerhino.livejournal.com
Oona was fascinated by the books. There was as much to be read into the obtuse and twisted meanings as there were in the spells themselves. She was also marking the books, which had garnered initial outrage from many. But she pointed out she was only using a small red asterisk and tiny number and making a note on the blank page in front to point out what spells were actually useless and actual results. Well, they would do something, but the results would not be as promised, and would actually do way much harm than good.

She perked up at Sam's announcement. Coconuts? She had to look long and hard into Sam's eyes to assure herself it was Sam suggesting the spell, and not his passenger. It was no elemental, or minor imp he carried. In fact, he'd had it with him long enough that separation held quite a risk.

"May I see it? If it is what we need, I have to calculate how long it will take and exactly how much power will be fed into it."


Date: 2007-06-10 01:31 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] rwarner.livejournal.com
Willow tried to keep her eyes (and her mind) on the research, but it was difficult. Every so often she'd steal a glance at Sam, who she was pretty sure was flirting with both her and Tara. There was something about Sam that intrigued her and drew her attention. The fact that he was so well-versed in the supernatural (he killed an Anga!) was part of it, but there was something else. What it was, she wasn't sure of yet.

Sam's discovery of a candidate spell to reverse the body swapping gave Willow an opportunity to focus her mind on something else for the moment. Jumping up and coming around the table, Willow leaned in and read over Sam's shoulder. /Mmmm...he even *smells* good,/ she couldn't help but think as she leaned in close. So distracted was she as she read the spell, she didn't realize that she was mouthing a few of the words in the spell as she read. Not, that was, until she felt the unmistakable electricity of magical energy being released.

"Oh! Oh! I didn't do it! Not on purpose!" Willow yelped as she jumped back, hands in the air and an innocent-but-guilty look on her face.

/What *did* I do??/ wondered Willow to herself.

(OOC - everyone at the table now smells like Sam. Up to [livejournal.com profile] starborn_scribe what that smell is.)


Date: 2007-06-10 01:21 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] starborn-scribe.livejournal.com
Normally Dean would have grinned at the way Sam puffed up from the girls' attention. Not this time because 1. Tara played for the other team (a damn shame, with her curves) and 2. Willow was evil.

Dean did not use the word "evil" in relation to humans lightly. Monsters, demons, and ghosts? Sure, they could be evil. People generally weren't. But Willow -- at least when casting -- exuded evil. Considering his brother's... problem, Dean didn't want Sam around anyone with a speck of evil in their soul.

When Willow leaned over Sam's shoulder Dean tensed. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Sam's blush. (Goddammit.) Dean swiveled to tell the witch to back the hell off when magic arced from her. "Hey!" he shouted, jumping to his feet.

"Oh! Oh! I didn't do it! Not on purpose!" The witch was the picture of guilt.

Sam looked from Willow to Dean and back. "What-- why'd you do that?"

"What exactly did you do?" If the witch had done anything to his brother... *sniff* Dean smelled vanilla and something flowery. He inhaled again. Sam's scent -- DHARMA Orchard Blossom fabric softener, DHARMA Vanilla Naturals shampoo, and just plain Sam -- was close. Closer than Sam.

Molly-in-River, who'd been sitting quietly on the other side of the cafeteria with one of the books, shouted, "I smell different! Why do I smell different?"

Dean glared at Willow. "This is a seriously fucked-up way of flirting, witch. Undo it. Now."


Date: 2007-06-14 04:09 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] weirdweb.livejournal.com
((OOC: This sucks but I have got to get things moving. I want to bring May-in-Hiro in just for the teasing that Dean will inflict upon her when he figures out who she is, but it's after midnight here and I have no brain.))

The flirting between Sam and WIllow was making Tara decidedly uncomfortable. Not only was it weird - she had to keep reminding herself that this was not her Willow - but there was an undercurrent of something else, the demon inside him reacting to Willow's dark magic. While it seemed to no longer affect Tara the way it once had, she was afraid that was because it had found a more appetizing and willing target in Willow.

Dean's obvious hostility, ironically enough, made her forget her discomfort immediately. He was obviously seeing the same thing she was, but his reaction wasn't going to help. The last thing Sam needed was for Dean to accidentally push him away.

She stepped up beside Sam where Willow had been standing, putting herself between Dean and Willow (and Sam and Willow) in the process. "May I see?" As Sam stepped aside to let her look, she glanced up at Dean, silently hoping he would get the hint and calm down, before studying the page Willow had been reading. "I think this is it," she said, indicating a couple lines of the spell. "You-you might have been focusing a little too much on one aspect of a person when you were reading it. That's all."


Date: 2007-06-15 12:33 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] starborn-scribe.livejournal.com
Sam glared at his brother as he stepped out of Tara's way. "Was that absolutely necessary?" Dean sniffed in reply. Scowling, Sam cant his head away from the table.

His brother got the hint and walked with him a short distance away. "What?"

"Since when do you care who I flirt with?" Sam challenged, keeping his voice low.

"Since a certain redhead's eyes turned pitch black."

Sam crossed his arms. "You're jealous."

Dean stared, flabbergasted. "Me? The chicks are throwing themselves at me." His eyes flitted to Tara briefly. "Most of 'em. You think I'm jealous of Broom Hilda by way of Sauron? Please."

The longer Dean talked the more angry Sam got. "Sauron" tipped him over the edge. Sam got in his brother's face, using his height to loom over him. "Take. That. Back."

"Make me."

[Mayday-in-Hiro] Awkward much?

Date: 2007-06-15 01:23 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] weirdweb.livejournal.com

Despite her haste, it had taken May a while to find the bunker and then a little while to get up the nerve to seek out other people. Not to mention that it was just so weird walking around in Hiro's body. (Worse, en route she'd had to answer the call of nature, and the less said about that the better.)

Either way, between that, going in the wrong direction for an hour (her direction sense was gone along with her spider-sense, it seemed) and then coming out on the other side of the bunker and hiking across the field to get back there, it was about lunchtime when she finally made it back inside.

The corridors were oddly quiet, and she paused, trying to remember where everything was. After a moment, she headed down the hall, approaching the laundry room door with trepidation. Assuming Hiro was still in there... what the heck would she say to him? And would he understand?

As she reached for the doorknob, a commotion down the hall made her pause. She turned towards the source of the noise, coming from the open door of the nearby cafeteria. Curious, May turned away and peered inside the room. No one noticed her enter, and as she looked around, trying to figure out who was who, she didn't notice the half-melted bits of candle that had gotten knocked on the floor.

She somehow managed to avoid landing on anyone as she tripped yet again and landed flat on her stomach. Groaning (and for the first time glad she had no breasts to squash), May turned her head to the left to see a pair of men's shoes. She turned her head to the right to see another pair of shoes.

She looked up to realize that she had somehow managed to faceplant herself practically between Sam and Dean, who were staring down at her like she was insane. "Hi," she wheezed. "You guys know who did this? I need to hurt them. A lot."


Date: 2007-06-15 11:44 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] weirdweb.livejournal.com
Note to self: Don't get on Faith's bad side. May nodded at the comment about strength, hoping Hiro hadn't torn off any doors or broken anything in her body. Then there'd be no hope of explaining the web-shooters. None.

She pushed Hiro's glasses back up absent-mindedly - even after a year of not needing glasses, it was still a reflex - as she rubbed her arm, somewhat embarrassed by her entry. "Chloe?" It took her a minute to remember the blonde; she'd met her once or twice in passing, but that was about it. "No problem. At least you didn't switch with a guy."

Of course, the embarrassment came back in full force at Chloe's next question. Especially since she could feel Dean and Sam's stares boring into the back of her head. Molly had mentioned that not everyone was switched, and if those two hadn't been - oh, God, she was never going to live this one down. "Uh, yeah, I'm not," she replied awkwardly, rubbing the back of her head. Chloe just stared at her, and she sighed, leaned forward and muttered in a low voice so that just Chloe could hear, "May Parker."

Yeah. Maybe she should have just gone into the laundry room and gotten it over with.


Date: 2007-06-15 12:04 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] starborn-scribe.livejournal.com
"May Parker."

Those two words negated Dean's anger and overprotectiveness -- for the moment, anyway. He struggled to keep a straight face. "Come again?"

The Asian geek's face scowled. "You heard me."

Sam looked a little amused, but mostly sympathetic. "Oh, man. We're working on--"

Dean leaned closer, cupping his hand over one ear. "I didn't quite catch that. Your name?"


Despite his now ringing ear Dean laughed aloud. "Holy shit! May's a dweeb! Hahahaha--oof!" May's and Sam's punches to his stomach cut him off. Neither had put much strength into it, so he recovered quickly. "You're right. Not funny."

May-in-dweeb agreed, "Damn straight!"

"You were hot," Dean pouted. He gestured at May's current body. "Who the hell is this guy?"


Date: 2007-06-18 02:32 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] rwarner.livejournal.com
Willow didn't appreciate the way Dean used the word 'witch' as if it were spelled with a 'b', and had just opened her mouth to tell him so when May made her unceremonious entry. Looking around the room, Willow could tell that she wasn't the only one who didn't recognize the body that May was occupying.

"There's some ID in his pocket that says his name is Hiro Nakamura," May responded to Dean's question, ignoring his comment about her hotness. "By the way, why do you smell like Sam?"

The frown returned to Dean's face and he faced Willow again. "It's *HER* fault! That witch made us all smell like Sam!"

There it was again - and this time Willow wasn't going to let it slide. "Well-well-well, you're not so squeaky clean yourself, Mr. God's Gift To All The Women Here! I mean, you're all controlling and taunting and yell-y, and if a girl wants to flirt with someone, well they should be allowed to if they want, not that I was flirting with Sam, not that I wouldn't *want* to flirt with Sam, but..."

Dean's glare got more annoyed as Willow stopped to take a breath.

"But don't believe for a minute mister that I don't know what you're doing when you say witch like that! I'm not the only witch here -" Willow looked over at Tara, who looked down and didn't meet her eyes "- and to call us that word, well, it's not very nice! For all you know, we could be the only ones who can help here, in fact, for all you know we could be the only ones who can get us out of here! It could be as simple as me saying 'Corpus Reverto' and waving my hands in the air-"

As Willow said the words "Corpus Reverto", all of those whom had swapped bodies suddenly found themselves back in their proper bodies.

"- but noo, I'm just a Bitch to you, so forget it!"

When Willow said "Forget it", everyone who'd switched back to their proper bodies reverted to the bodies they'd switched into.

"Uhm, Willow?" Tara said quietly. "You might want to take a look in a mirror."

Willow went over and looked in the mirror above one of the sinks. The sight she was greeted with took her breath away - her eyes were black as coal.

"Oh no! What have I done?" Willow moaned.

OOC quick question

Date: 2007-06-18 12:25 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] weirdweb.livejournal.com
all of those whom had swapped bodies suddenly found themselves back in their proper bodies.

Maybe that could be limited to all those who were in the cafeteria at the time? Alternatively, if not, it could only last for a second (regardless of Willow's "Forget it!")?

I'm suggesting this only because the cause would be obvious to everyone there who was switched and re-switched, and a good portion of the victims wouldn't care about the black eyes and would demand that she do that again if it was apparently that simple. (Unless, of course, that's what you're aiming for?)


Date: 2007-06-18 02:56 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] starborn-scribe.livejournal.com
Sam moved between Willow and his idiot brother before said idiot did anything stupid. Then Willow cast again, and Dean was forgotten.

Her eyes weren't just black. Power sparked inside them. Sam felt the thrum of her magic resonating in him. It and her smell and her anger were intoxicating.

Sam followed Willow when she hurried over to the mirror. Dean had tried to stop him. His brother's grip on his arm was easily shrugged off.

Willow stared aghast at her reflection. "Oh no! What have I done?"

Sam stopped beside her, close enough to feel her body heat. He deliberately avoided the mirror. His pitch-black eyes would get him all emo, as Dean would say, and he was sick of it. For once he wanted to feel good. To not worry. Not mourn.

"Nothing," Sam assured her. "You cast by accident, then dispelled it. It's okay." He tilted his head toward the center of the room. "Forget them. They're jealous."


Date: 2007-06-18 04:17 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] purplerhino.livejournal.com
Oona was up like a shot at the overwhelming sense of Black/Chaos magic.

She moved quickly around the table to where Williw had been giving a rather cute kind of tirade at Dean. She saw Sam trying to comfort the witch.

"You, back down now. Sit down and shut up." She pointed at Sam and the dark shape in the red stone of her ring shifted. Her voice sounded odd, triple layered with both a deeper, and lighter voice layering through it. Her command was not to Sam himself, but to the demon in him.

She could not free the young man, not without a lot more power than she currently had to actually drive it out (a dangerous proposition for Sam at this stage) before commanding the demon alone. Sam's human body shielded the demon from full on command. But she could enforce little things. Even if it did make the demon angry at her.

Within Sam the Demon felt the power of the command, the ancient magic behind it. Old, older than humankind, and a bloodline that made pacts and spell sand agreements with demons and even gods. The ring was a symbol of those promises. He also felt that Oona did not have the power to cast him out or bind him. Not yet anyway. But she was definitely a potential threat. And her command did hold its own power, bought by the blood and souls of sweet innocents millennia ago.

"And you," Oona pointed to Willow, "please, no more magic. You have to try to maintain a calm mind and a balanced soul. You've been tainted, sweet child. And the darkness is so very seductive. It's easy, and so powerful. But it will cost you your soul. It will destroy Willow, and use what remains to its own end. Because you are powerful. You do have so much potential. Don't do this to yourself. Not only will it destroy you, but it may kill us all, whether you will it so or not."

Oona put a gentle hand on Willow's shoulder. "We can try to work through this, if Tara, Molly and Dean will help. We can try to help you tap into the bright power while you are in balance. But without training, you must try not to use magic, ESPECIALLY not when you are angry."

Oona had not mentioned Sam in the list of potential helpers. The demon would try to coax the dark out, feed it.

((OOC: what you have the Demon in Sam do is up to you. Resist the command or not. But Oona had to try. :) ))


Date: 2007-06-18 05:16 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] rwarner.livejournal.com
Willow couldn't help but be reminded of both Xander and Giles by Oona's comments. Both had said pretty much the same thing to her several times before - Giles' tirade after they'd brought Buffy back especially rang through her mind. As Willow's mind worked through her feelings, the black faded from her eyes and they returned to their natural color. But one thing nagged at her still...

"Did the smell thing I did cause this? Cause I wasn't so much with the anger then..." Willow trailed off as she noticed those around the room who had been body switched all had pained or confused looks on their face. One could see the light go on when she made the connection between her words earlier and what must have happened.

"Ohh! Ohh! Did I fix it?" Willow gushed. "Oh! But I said forget it...I must have undid it. Let me try again! Sorry Oona, just this one last thing, I owe it to everyone here to fix this if I can."

Willow waved her hands and said "Corpus Reverto!" Nothing happened.

Willow's face fell. "I guess we have to research more."

[Sam] Devil inside

Date: 2007-06-18 05:42 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] starborn-scribe.livejournal.com
"You, back down now," Oona commanded. "Sit down and shut up."

Sam didn't appreciate the albino's tone. Not one bit. The bitch needed to be taught some manners.

Sam's arm shot out, grabbing Oona's throat. As he lifted her and her legs kicked futiley Sam felt her elven magic. Unfortunately for her it was watered down. She couldn't boss around one of the Chosen.

Dean and several of the others rushed toward him. "Sam!"

"Put her down!"

Sam kept all but Willow at bay with telekinesis. "Not until she apologizes," Sam said coolly. He glanced at the redheaded witch. Her eyes were glittering coals. "Don't you think?"

Willow's hair bobbed as she nodded. "Yeah." To Oona she said, "Don't be so bossy. It's not nice."

Oona made a gurgling sound. Sam returned his gaze to her to find her blood red ring glowing. "That's not an apology," he frowned.

Since the half-breed clearly wasn't cooperating, Sam channeled the fire inside him to the hand holding Oona. She whimpered, then shrieked as the fire lapped around her face.

Ignoring the others' protests Sam inhaled deeply. Singed flesh smelled so good.

"Ohh! Ohh! Did I fix it?" Willow's excited voice brought Sam back to reality. He shuddered, then looked for Oona. She stood nearby, eyeing him. Uninjured, thank god.

Sam squirmed and chewed his lip while Willow tried to repeat the body-unswitching spell. Dean appeared at his side. "Hey. You all right?" He didn't sound angry, just worried.

"Yeah," Sam lied.

"I guess we have to research more," Willow announced.

"Research. Yeah. Sure thing." Sam strode back to the book-strewn table, happy to have something to keep his mind off of what he-- (No, the demon!) wanted to do to Oona.


Date: 2007-06-18 05:59 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] purplerhino.livejournal.com
"Willow!" Oona let her exasperation come out. She tamped it down.

Trying to see things from Willows point of view, Oona sighed. "There is always a just one more. There's always a 'but it's for the greater good,' or a 'but this will make it better'. It's partly how the taint works. The Chaos wants you to use it. Think of it as a living thing." Oona looked briefly at Sam. It wasn't quite a demon. "Like an infection stemming from a bug bite. It itches. You want to scratch it. But every time you do, you open the bite up some more, and the infection grows. It doesn't matter if scratching the itch will provide momentary relief, the infection will spread. But this infection WANTS to spread. It's semi-sentient and it knows you. It knows you want to help people. It whispers in your blood that just one little spell will fix this or that for another person, so it won't be bad."

Oona hoped she was getting through. "But you can NOT use the magic without others to help leach away the infection. To help you fight it. Not even to help others. Or you might infect them as well and make your own infection that much worse. You are a strong person. Do you have the courage and strength to resist this? Think of every little temptation as the infection begging to be spread. Stop and think before doing. Your generous nature wants to follow a helpful impulse, but you MUST stop and think. Look before you leap. If you can't do this for yourself, if you think the risk is worth it to just HELP someone, or set something right, then do it for others. Try to remember that you risk everyone."

This was going to be trouble. Oona wished she had the drugs and herbs to boost her own strength and power. But most of them were not from this reality. They were unattainable.

Willow was going to have to be watched for her own safety as much as others. Most likely just as much as Sam had to be watched.

[May-in-Hiro] That's it, I need a break.

Date: 2007-06-19 02:29 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] weirdweb.livejournal.com
Just for a second, she was in her own body again, felt normal again - and then she was back in Hiro, with Hiro's reflexes, and May very nearly fell over again from the shock. She stumbled and caught herself instead, only barely hearing the conversations going on around her.

Okay, that was it. There was nothing she could contribute here. And although the notion of chasing Dean around with Hiro's sword was moderately tempting, it probably wouldn't help things.

But at least she'd confirmed one thing: her body was still in the laundry room. Hiro hadn't gone anywhere, thank God. "You guys have fun," she muttered. "I'm going to get some air."

She sighed and headed out into the hallway, where it was hopefully less embarrassing.

MAYDAY EXITS heading this way (http://community.livejournal.com/crossing_lostrp/145220.html)


Date: 2007-06-20 01:58 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] weirdweb.livejournal.com
Oona seemed to be getting through to Willow, but Tara could feel the taint in Sam flare up like a black geyser. For a brief second, she was afraid it would lash out at Oona, or come after one of the others instead - but then Sam reined it in again and stomped off to look through books.

Tara let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, her attention going back to Willow. Seeing Willow - any Willow - go dark like that had frightened her more than she cared to admit. It was like seeing her worst fears manifested; her Willow had been down that path when she'd taken the trip to Sydney to begin with. Was this what was in store for the Willow she'd left? Especially once she heard about the crash? Was this all she could do, stand around and look uncomfortable and point out a mirror?

No. No, it wasn't. This wasn't her Willow, but she was still Willow and that was what mattered. Tara steadied herself and touched Willow's other shoulder gently, reassured that she just felt like Willow and that the darkness had receded. "I think you're strong enough to beat this. And I'll definitely help if I can."

Sam was flipping through books at another table, flipping through them as h deliberately avoided looking in their direction. Dean looked uncertain for a moment. Tara caught his eye, then glanced over at Sam, hoping Dean would get it: Sam clearly needed him right now. She'd seen evidence of that back at the old cave camp.

((OOC: Okay, I suck, drawing a blank, going to pack. Take it away, please!))


Date: 2007-06-21 07:07 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] starborn-scribe.livejournal.com
Dean didn't miss Tara's unspoken prompt. He held her gaze for a moment, then nodded. He'd intended to stick by Sam all along. The yellow-eyed bastard's taint in his brother scared the hell out of Dean, but it wouldn't drive him away. Family's family.

"Whoa, Sammy," Dean chided as he plopped back into his chair beside Sam. He stuck his hand in the pages of the book before Sam flipped further through the heavy tome. "What about that coconut spell? Judging from what Willow did before it might do the trick." It took effort, but Dean refrained from making any snide comments or looks at the witch.


Date: 2007-06-23 06:39 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] purplerhino.livejournal.com
Oona did not acknowledge the demon. She felt it flare up, felt its rage directed at her. But she could not tell if it was because she had succeeded in commanding it down, or because it was biding its time and resented not being able to lash out in front of everyone.

No, to truly command that one she would have to call on a stronger demon to call this one to heel, or even call upon a god. But to do either would involve a sacrifice of life, blood and pain. And it could not be an animal. Oona was not about to turn murderer, to submit to the very taint she had warned Willow of. She could kill to save herself or other. But she killed cleanly. She was not her father. Much as she hero-worshiped him, she feared becoming him.

The thing in Sam might erupt, might come out and threaten everyone here. What then would she do? Accept her fate? Did the end justify the means? Could she ever keep her soul if she sacrificed one for many?

Those thoughts alone tormented her. And the internal torment would feed Sam's demon in its own way.

Sam was flipping through the books now, not really seeing.

Oona crossed behind Sam, but was suddenly afraid to touch him. "Sam, you know it was not you I spoke to. I'm sorry if you felt so. He's getting stronger, isn't he?"

Something had to be done. the demon in the man could destroy Sam's soul, and wearing the man's body like a suit, it would do its will on these people.

"It's your soul. Fight for it."

She moved away, to sit at the far end of the table, taking up another book. She could not bear to sit close to the thing raging in Sam, its hatred reaching for her.

If Sam could fight this battle, if he could be fed the power of light, he may have a chance. He would have to fight it with opposites. Love for hate, mercy for cruelty, faith for destruction, sacrifice for greed. But did he have the strength? Did he have the will? Did he have enough of himself left?

Oona prayed to the one true God that he did. She found herself a coward now. She did not wish to damn her own soul, to take a life to save them all.


Date: 2007-06-24 07:36 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] starborn-scribe.livejournal.com
Sam didn't take his eyes from the book he wasn't reading when Oona approached. He heard what she said, though.

"It's your soul. Fight for it."

"I am," he murmured. (I'm trying.) He wished he knew how.

Date: 2007-06-23 05:29 am (UTC)
ext_26142: (Methos Enigma from beeej)
From: [identity profile] beccadg.livejournal.com

Methos' fingers rubbed the platinum charm in his pocket. He'd ignored the nagging feeling he should put it on as he'd looked for Oona. Now that he'd found her among those pouring over books in the cafeteria the feeling rose up again. Methos did take the charm from his pocket, letting it hang on it's necklace to dangle between his fingers. He wasn't sure how clearly she'd seen it when her father had tossed it to him, but just giving her a chance to see it might spark some recognition of it.

Though the question of what he should do with the charm was taking up much of his mind, Methos was curious about many of the books lying about the cafeteria as well. While he couldn't read all of the languages present in them, a quick survey of a few showed there were ones he could read, not that he was sure he should volunteer that knowledge. Methos had felt odd feeling the kinship he did with Oona's father, and seeing spells he could easily read laid out in the books in languages from his youth gave him another odd feeling. Getting his memories back apparently wasn't a cure for odd feelings.

Methos leaned in close to Oona, the charm hanging casually from his hand, and asked, "Anything I can help with here?"

Date: 2007-06-23 06:17 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] purplerhino.livejournal.com
Oona started when she saw Adam. she had only nodded and smiled to him before their memories returned. Her eyes went to the sword on his back, and then to his face.

Yes, he was an attractive man, though he appeared to be much older than her. Perhaps 15 years or so.

Her dream replayed in her mind. Yes, there was a touch of it in his eyes. The wariness and the depth of one who had seen and done too much. She could see where her father sensed kinship there. Although Adam was clearly human, with more human motives and emotions.

"We are seeking a way to reverse the swaping of bodies. You appear to still be yourself. All here, except for Molly there, remain ourselves as well. I do not know if the ability to work magic has anything to do with avoiding the swap. But as Molly was effected, that theory is less likely.""

"I'm River." Molly's odd blue eyes were almost in Adam's face as she leaned over and around his side. "It's quiet in here. But it isn't still. This body wants to dance more than mine does."

River leaned closer and whispered the softest breath in Adam's ear, "I can feel your magic. Heart and head. The connection holds it in. Break the connection and it all pours out like a storm."

She leaned back. "Magic glows. It tickles. Molly feels it all. It's all inside her. And your sword makes it flinch, crawls like roaches under the skin. This body doesn't like it." River in Molly half danced away. "I'm more myself in someone else than I am in me. But some things can't be undone. Thoughts cannot be linear all at once. They dance. But they're mine."

Oona only heard the words spoken out loud. But it also called to mind her dream. The sword that makes one flinch. Stormbringer. Stealer of souls. Somehow it was seeking her. To possess or devour. That had been a clear message. It was demon enough to come to this world. It made her feel sick, and a shiver of fear traced up her spine.

It was a glint of light that drew her eyes to the amulet Adam held. She looked up at him again. He had really shared the dream.

"My father would have done better with these spell books. He was a powerful sorcerer, capable of spells no longer attainable. He could even cross realities without the Moonbeam roads. Manifest himself long after his death. That is a feat not many could achieve even in his own time." She had spoken with her head bowed.

Now she looked up, ruby eyes locked with green. "He could also slice a bound man to the bone strip by strip so the man stayed alive, bleeding and pleading for mercy or death. I watched him do this. He felt neither pity nor remorse. His blade ate pieces of the man's soul. He summoned the god of winds by feeding the god the blood, flesh, pain and fear of the man. But he saved a hundred innocents, as well as myself in so doing. I often had to wonder at the nature of evil. Of darkness. It made me understand the darkness in the human soul."

She looked to Willow now. "And this, in part, is how I know of your tainted power, and how you cannot use magic alone until it is wiped clean."

At last Oona gestured to the books set aside for those who had been in the Tardis. "Those languages are ones we do not know. Dead languages. Sam thinks he may have found a spell that will fix the problem, but we must continue to search in case my calculations prove it useless or unwise."

Oona shook her head, "Too bad these books cannot read themselves. The extra eyes would come in handy."

Date: 2007-06-24 05:06 am (UTC)
ext_26142: (Methos by beccadg)
From: [identity profile] beccadg.livejournal.com
Methos reached out to place a steadying hand on Oona's shoulder when she started, halting uncertainly as it occurred to him he didn't know what might happen if they touched while he had the charm against his skin. He watched her eyes take in the sword on his back, and considered whether there was any point to going back to hiding it when so many had seen him wearing it plainly while their memories were gone. Somehow, even though Oona had looked no older in the dream, face to face with her again her youth was more obvious. Methos wondered if it was that youth that had prompted him to accept her father's insistence that she needed protection from the sword.

"I'm still myself. Any idea if the people who haven't been affected have anything in common besides an ability to work magic?" He asked, not sure if he exactly qualified as having an ability to work magic, but knowing there was more to him than the merely human people on the island. Methos started when Molly's odd blue eyes came close to his face.

He gave River a small smile after she told him it was quiet inside Molly, imagining it to be a large change for her, "The quiet is different, hu?"

Methos stiffened at River's very softly whispered words, unable to resist giving them a small nod of acknowledgment. He took in a steadying breath while she leaned back, listening to her go own about magic and Molly. Methos considered her words about how his sword felt to her, remembering the image of Elric's sword huge and covered with black flames. He'd told the man, "I'm tougher than I look," but would his body not like that sword?

Methos noticed that River's words had struck a cord in Oona as well, and he took a chance on reaching out a hand to give her a comforting touch. With his free hand resting over one of hers he saw how a glint from the charm drew her eyes to it. Methos met her eyes when she looked at him again, seeing in them that she did recognize the charm and remembered the dream as well. He listened to the first of her words about her father, wondering what they said about the charm he was holding. Methos wondered but he didn't ask her there in front of the others. He wasn't sure it was the place to ask.

"If destroying that one man saved both a hundred innocents and his own daughter he likely didn't have much room for pity or remorse. Too much was depending on what he had to do," Methos responded softly to the last of Oona's words about her father. His eyes never wavering from hers.

Only when she looked away from him to Willow did he find himself alone again with the urge to put the charm on. Methos wanted to ask her about it so much -- to know if he should listen to the urge or lock it away. He was drawn back from the questions inside him by Oona's gesture towards the books. Methos followed it, opening a couple of the books, "I can read this one. Likely some of the others. I don't know how to read this one. I don't know if it's a language specifically for magic, or just from a time and place I'm not familiar with. I'd be happy to read the ones I can. I like to do research."

Date: 2007-06-24 04:16 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] purplerhino.livejournal.com
Oona reached forward to run a pale finger over the amulet. "This is a symbol of Balance. The scales. Some think they are held by the Creator God. But that is a matter for philosophers to ponder. Chaos and Law battle constantly. Their absolutes are terrible things. Absolute law is a sameness. Everything in perfect order, all people, all plants, all animals perfectly the same. Even thoughts perfectly ordered like insects in a hive. No diversity, no freedom, to creativity. When Law goes mad it scours worlds clean. Because people and things might show some disruption to order. Great planes of white ash, not even bacteria alive."

Oona touched the other side of the scale of the amulet. "Chaos in it's totality is just that. Mindless, without rules, not even of physics. Creatures twisted and obscene. It is madness of mind, body and reality. The balance is a place with rules, but individuality. Diversity, but mercy and justice. There are those who stand for either of the three sides. I wear the scales at the back of my neck. Inked into my skin."

Back to front was it's own balance.

"As for the books. Sorcerers were always a secret lot. No matter the world or age. They often created their own langues of symbols, and crouched things in symbolic language. Try reading an Alchmist's notes from the 1500's of this world." She rolled her eyes. "They thought they were being clever."

"We'd be glad for the extra eyes." Oona smiled a bit, shyly. "Look for anything that involves the words body and mind or soul. We'll see if it is useful."


Date: 2007-06-25 09:08 pm (UTC)
ext_26142: (Methos by beccadg)
From: [identity profile] beccadg.livejournal.com
Methos held the charm steady as Oona ran a pale finger over the charm, listening to her explanation of it with interest. He wondered only a little if she could some how sense how curious he was about it. Methos nodded when she told him, "There are those who stand for either of the three sides."

He leaned in close to tell Oona quietly, "Since the moment your father gave it to me I've had an urge to wear it."

Methos drew back as her words turned to the books. He chuckled at Oona's disgust with the secretiveness of some alchemists, "When they actually managed to create their own language, you need to know them or have a Rosetta Stone to their secret language. If they just came up with a code from an existing language, it isn't as hard to break the code."

He smiled, "I'll help. I'll start with the ones that are simply in the dead languages I can read. If we don't have something before I'm done there I'll try working on one of the coded books."

Methos nodded, "I'll remember, 'body and mind or soul'."

He sat down to start translating the book he'd already told Oona he could read. Before Methos began though he had to face the question of what he was going to do with the charm. He still felt the nagging urge to put it on, and Oona's description made it sound as if it might not be a bad thing for him to give into the urge. Methos held the charm out to her once more, and asked her, "Can you work the clasp for me? I think I might wear it."


Date: 2007-06-25 10:53 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] purplerhino.livejournal.com
Oona smiled softly. "Of course."

She stood and moved around to stand behind him. "This has a minor enchantment on it. It keeps it from getting lost. You'll know where it is if you should drop it, or it is stolen."

Oona's long fingers worked the clasp, only occasionally brushing his skin.

"It will also accept other enchantments more easily. It takes a lot of time and power to set a permanent spell into an object." She finished and stood back. The charm dangled just below Adam's clavicle. It seemed natural, like it had always meant to be there.

Impulsively she reached out to touch the charm again. "It suites you."

She withdrew her hand, as if suddenly realizing she had invaded his space uninvited that time.

She did not ask the questions she had. Adam admitted a fondness for study yet carried a sword. (Oh, she acknowledged the similarity to her father's personality there. At least Adam's sword had no more life then any well used blade. It had its own song, but did not sing aloud.) He read dead languages, yet he was a medical doctor. The only dead language she knew medical doctors in this world and time learning was Latin. He seemed to have a fair grasp of the history of Alchemy. However, as Alchemists were the first chemists, it was not unreasonable for a physician to find them fascinating.

He was dichotomy personified. And that alone explained why the scales suited him.

There was suddenly a commotion in the hall outside the cafeteria. First the sound of Oorie’s frightened yipping howls, then people running back and forth. She itched to know what was happening. However, whatever it was she would likely be no help. She was of more use here. Eventually she would be told.


Date: 2007-06-26 09:16 pm (UTC)
ext_26142: (Methos Enigma from beeej)
From: [identity profile] beccadg.livejournal.com
Methos returned Oona's soft smile when she assured him she could work the clasp, giving her a quiet, "Thank you."

He watched her stand, but didn't turn his head to follow her moving behind him. Methos nodded as Oona explained that the charm had a minor enchantment on it. He guessed aloud, "So what I've been feeling might be it's been out of place in my pocket? It was lost off of my neck."

The occasional brush of her long fingers against his skin while she worked the clasp sent a small shiver down his spine. Methos considered Oona's statement that the charm would accept other enchantments more easily, wondering if she meant it only as further information about the charm or if there was a warning in her words he wasn't quite grasping. When she finished he had to admit to himself that he felt better. The nagging need for it to be in place was gone. Before Methos could touch it himself Oona reached out to touch it again. He grinned at her words, "It feels right having it on. I would hope it suits me."

Methos watched her withdraw her hand with regret, having lost his fear of some magic he couldn't grasp happening when Oona, the charm, and he were together what was left to him was his curiosity about the girl and her father. He turned to see her face, and caught in it the presence of her own unasked questions. Methos wasn't sure how to begin to answer her, at least not while they were going unasked. He did feel better having settled down at a table to translate books. While he had some skills as a doctor and he was happy to use them, Methos didn't enjoy it like he did doing research.

"This text seems familiar," he said with surprise as he read more of the book he'd picked to translate first. Methos was certain it wasn't something he'd written, but it seemed like he might have read it once. Had it been in Italy or Germany?

"If I remember this right it's more of a basic chemistry book than a spell book," he added as he kept reading.

Methos did his best to ignore the commotion in the hall. He was comfortable with where he was and who he was with. Whatever was happening they'd all hear about it.


Date: 2007-06-26 10:31 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] purplerhino.livejournal.com
Did it make her a coward that she was slightly relieved to have Adam between her and where Sam sat. Not that she'd use anyone as a shield, but being out of the line of sight. She could tell when it was Sam or the Demon looking at her, by the hate and anger kept off the face, but showing in the eyes.

She was also glad of the distraction. Even if there was a distinct fission of Attraction as well. Even if only on her part. She was pretty sure her father had chosen Adam for some form of mutual protection because of some kindred feeling with him, or some talent or Gift he possessed. Not for anything else. And what did Adam need protection from? The dream had said his past, and to hide his sign. But it made no sense... yet.

"Chemistry is closely related to magic. Some chemistry is magic." She tried to avert her blush as she realized how that could be taken. "Like Alchemy. You can mix some compounds, and with the proper words and push of power, it can do other than the original chemical reaction without such."

Oona had put aside three books with potential. She wasn't reading so much as writing. The spell Sam had found had very strong potential. She wrote calculations on a scrap of paper. It drew the souls into a receptacle, usually a cauldron or other bowl, then let them loose, to find their original bodies. The trouble was, they had less than three minutes to find their bodies. Because they would stop breathing while this happened. And it would be possible to seal the souls into the receptacle. They would be VERY vulnerable at that point. With a demon close by.

She shivered and placed it atop the possibilities stack. It was actually the best bet. But she couldn't shake the discomfort it gave her.

"So, Adam, when did you take an interest in ancient languages? I only know Latin, Greek and Melnibonean as dead languages go. My mother pounded them into my head from the knee, it seems."


Date: 2007-06-28 05:32 am (UTC)
ext_26142: (Methos Too Old by beccadg)
From: [identity profile] beccadg.livejournal.com
Methos noticed how Oona seemed a little more relaxed with him sitting between her and Sam Winchester. He glanced at the boy wondering what he'd missed before he'd come in, and agreed to help with the on going research. Methos wasn't even sure if either would be able to explain to him what he'd missed if he asked.

He sighed drawing his focus back to the book in front of him. Since Methos wasn't sure where the sword was Elric had warned him Oona needed protecting from, he had to provide what help he could to her in other ways. If she was studying the books he would too. It didn't hurt that he felt more comfortable doing research than he did acting as a doctor.

"Ah. Some of this might be magic then, but it likely requires components we don't have," Methos responded after she said, "Some chemistry is magic."

He kept strictly to himself the observation that even the faintest of blushes stood out sharply on Oona's pale skin. It was pretty and Methos found himself wondering if her father had brought them together knowing not only was there some way they could protect each other, but there was a measure of attraction between them as well. Or a measure of attraction would grow.

"I've seen people attempt alchemy with the right compounds and words, but no effects. I guess they lacked the power to push their spells along," he admitted. Methos hid a shiver at the thought of what those long ago alchemists might have done with the magic if they'd had the power. It oddly made him feel better about the amnesia they'd suffered, remembering everything he knew was a mixed blessing. Methos saw Oona's shiver and wondered if she'd somehow felt his own. He offered, "There are lots of books here. We should find something that we'll actually be able to use."

Methos chuckled, "You mean when did a doctor who had to spend years in medical school to get his degree have the time to take an interest in ancient languages? I'm older than I look. I know..."

He stopped to think about how many dead languages he could read well, and would likely be of help here, "...Sumerian, Babylonian, Phoenician, Egyptian, Greek, and Latin. I wasn't making use of my medical degree in Sydney. I was working as a historical researcher at the Australian Museum, until my contract came up."


Date: 2007-06-28 04:03 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] purplerhino.livejournal.com
<---- fighting the shift!


Date: 2007-06-28 09:47 pm (UTC)


Date: 2007-06-28 04:22 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] purplerhino.livejournal.com
"Ah, a man of many talents." She looked up from her calculations. "I can appreciate the pursuit of knowledge. I think I could be quite happy in a large library, at least until I read all that interested me."

She bent back over her scribblings, noting ingredients against availability. However she continued to speak as she went.

"The final reason I chose to live in Germany in the late thirties was the burning of books. The other atrocities would have spurred me to act, but that determined my course. To deliberately promote ignorance and destroy knowledge, art and history... by that alone he could have won. Ignorant masses will follow blindly. Learned ones will question."

"I am confident that between these books and the magic abilities here and Doctor McKay's science, we will figure out some way of reversing this. We have to. Because those speculative looks I was getting from George's body were rather disturbing. And I would feel better to slap Jack down in his proper face."

Oona looked up and at the sword Adam wore. "I had a sword and bow. It was taken from me in that lab. I can make another bow. But the sword, Truth, I will miss. And yes, it was a double edged sword." She smirked, "It was of a make that cannot be matched nor the blade broken. And now those Dharma creatures are no doubt studying it to learn its secrets."


Date: 2007-06-28 10:29 pm (UTC)
ext_26142: (Methos Fight from ithidrial)
From: [identity profile] beccadg.livejournal.com
Methos nodded at Oona's observation, smiling, "Time gives one the opportunity to develop many talents."

He considered her words about being quite happy in a large library and said, "It's good to read what you can while you can. Libraries like so many things can crumble before your eyes."

Methos listened as Oona spoke of the destruction of knowledge Hitler had done. He held his tongue, not because he felt guilt at having been safely far away from what had happened in Europe then, but because it brought back sharply his memories of the library in Alexandria burning. Methos had wept for the lost knowledge then, and thoughts of such destruction reminded him that he fought for his continued survival out of more than a simple attachment to his own skin. There were things he remembered now that no one else did. The knowledge survived only as long as he did.

He chuckled when she spoke of wanting to be able to slap Jack down in his proper face, "I'm sure some have similar feelings about dealing with Faith."

Methos tensed a little with Oona's eyes traveling to his sword, though he resisted reflexively reaching for it the way he had while he'd been denied his memories. He heard out her words about her own sword before saying anything, "I've had this sword a long time. I would miss it terribly if I lost it."

Methos added with a half-smile, "I prefer a double edged sword, but I've seen people who were very deadly with a single edge."


Date: 2007-06-18 12:06 pm (UTC)

July 2007

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