all_inclusive | OPEN | did you fall from a shooting star ; one without a permanent scar

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OPEN | did you fall from a shooting star ; one without a permanent scar

It's been awhile since Dawn has been in the hotel. She's been home, living her life, growing up. She's had two birthdays since she was last here. She's fought a few big bad's and helped save the world at least two more times. That's the thing with apocalypses in her world, they always come in the plural rather than the singular. One ends and another begins. And you can never quite see them coming until you're smack dab in the middle of one. Sometimes evil is stealthy like that.

Thwarting the destruction of the world is what got her lost in an alternate dimension in the first place. Then, as she used her key power to punch her way between worlds, she unlocked the door to the hotel and can't seem to step back out of it.

Of course, her first order of business is to check for Buffy. Some things never change. Her attachment to her sister is one of those things. No matter how old she is, no matter how many years of college she completes, she'll always be Buffy's little sister. She's accepted that. She's grown to love that. Which is why she's sad to find that Buffy isn't here anymore. She remembers her time here from before. Buffy had been here then. Now Dawn's alone.

After a quick shower and change of clothes in the room that she used to share with her sister, she makes her way downstairs to the cafe to grab some food (she's starving, okay?) and then to the library where she used to work beforehand because books make almost all things better. Maybe she can get her job back. She does get her job back. Then she checks out a book.

She makes her way out into the gardens and sits in the grass. She opens her book and gets lost in another world.

Occasionally, one might find her concentrating very, very hard, trying to get her key power to work, trying to see a thinning of the veils between dimensions and punch her way through it. There are no portals here, not that she can see, not like what she could see in the other hell-ish dimensions. She's as stuck as anyone.

Yeah, reading is good.

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Truth be told, aside from college, most everyone Dawn hangs with is older than her too. She's twenty-two. Everyone else is Buffy's age, which used to seem ancient to her but doesn't so much anymore. So she knows the value of seeing someone your own age, of having friends that aren't vicariously your friends because they're BFF's with your sister. She gets it.

As he gets nearer to her, she wonders if she should reach for the stake in her book bag. A look into his eyes makes her hesitate. He doesn't seem like he's out to attack her. Then again, she can be gullible that way. She can think someone is harmless and then... her blood is being used to start he end of the world. It happens more than one might think.

She tries not to be so naive anymore. Hence, the slight trepidation until he's close enough for her to be sure he isn't about to do anything hanky. Boy she wishes Buffy were here so she'd have her sister's name to fall back on when things go South.

She notices all his tattoos, just random words, a split second before he taps over one of the words. "Grey? Is that your name?"

Yes; Grey nods. That's his name. That should make her less nervous, or at least he hopes. He takes a couple steps back, to allow her space, too, having seen her tense up at his proximity. He crouches down again, illustrating that there is no threat, just ... maybe they can talk a little bit?

He points to her, then. What's her name?

Dawn can easily pick up on the cue that Grey won't or can't speak. She's communicated with a few spirits and demons that couldn't speak back to her, not in the usual way. So naturally, her first inclination is to think that Grey is a spirit/ghost of some kind, which in her corner of the universe is kind of cool.

"I'm Dawn. Summers. Dawn Summers. But you can call me Dawn." She says, digging through her bag and getting a notebook and pen, a purple glitter pen to be exact, and sets it in front of her. She won't push him to use it. It's just an experiment, really, to see if this is the kind of spirit that can touch things and use them.

"Sorry I didn't see you before. I was... dancing to my music." Her hands come up to cover her face. "Oh no. You saw me dancing. That's totally the most embarrassing." She peeks through her fingers. "Sorry?"

In some ways, perhaps Grey is a spirit. He's always been somewhat existant in his head than in his body; it was one of the only reasons he survived as long as he did on the train.

He nods when Dawn says her name though; Dawn. He'll remember that. His eyes are drawn to the pen; he's never seen one like that, actually. It's so sparkly. He has no reason to use it yet, though, as what she says doesn't require a written response. It's cute, actually; he smiles just a bit. She has no reason to be embarrassed; he shakes his head. Nothing to be sorry for. He only knows how to dance slowly, so he doesn't move. He does like music, though, most of it. He points to her earbuds and then points to a word on his arm - What? What is she listening to?

"Oh, I've got all kinds of music on here. I mean, I guess I like a little bit of everything so... that makes for a very ecclectic assortment, I guess." She looks down and swipes through her iPod to turn it on and bring up the screen that has the current playing song on it. Her pale skin flushes pink and she debates whether or not to share it with Grey or not.

Finally, she comes to a decision and offers him one of the earbuds. "Okay, put this in one of your ears and don't laugh at me, okay?" She puts the other in her own ear and then pushes play. A very catchy tune starts streaming into their ears.

Oh.

Oh, no.

No offense, Dawn, but that is just noise to Cinna and it's so very loud in his ear (even if it's not loud, he's so unused to it that it seems terribly loud). Grey winces and hooks his finger in the cord to pull it out of his ear.

Almost immediately, he grimaces in apology. He taps a word on his arm: Train. Which, to him is an explanation; he doesn't want to hurt Dawn's feelings.

Well, that went the opposite of how she'd thought it might go. She takes the earbud away and sheepishly turns off the music and rolls the cord around her iPod. Dawn likes catchy music that makes her dance so much of her music is that very thing, either catchy or with a good electronic base beat. Grey probably wouldn't like any of it.

She shoves her iPod in her bag just in time to see him point to the word 'train'. And she vicariously has no idea what that means either. She's pretty sure he means her music sounds like a freight train. And yeah, some of it probably does.

So she shrugs, trying to move along past yet another embarrassment. "Sorry. Didn't mean to hurt your ears or whatever. I swear it's a fun song... to some people. Not you. You don't have to like it! I mean, everyone's taste in music is different, ya know? That's okay."

Grey knows it's all right and he is not embarrassed and hopes she isn't either. Life is too short for such things. Nodding to what she says, Grey smiles just a little. The music he likes is the kind that he and Cinna can sway to. Not this, with the thrumming that made his head instantly ache.

Pointing to her, he arches his brow in question. Is that her favorite, then? That?

"Yeah, I like it." It's on her iPod, so of course she likes it. She has no idea he's asking about her favorite or anything like that. So she just cops to liking the music that made his head hurt in .2 seconds flat.

She teases him with a light laugh. "There'll be no music shaming, k? Like I said, I have a little of everything on here and basically I was in a sad mood and trying to listen to upbeat stuff to get my head space in a better place, ya know? So... yeah. Sorry for hurting your ears."

Sad?

Grey's brows furrow in concern and question. Does she want to talk about it?

Why? he asks by use of the inked word on his arm. What is making her sad?

"Last time I was here, my sister was here. Now she's not so I'm kind of... I mean, I don't do well without my sister, I guess." It's difficult to explain, really. She is a part of her sister. Her sister's blood was used to create her. They're very unnaturally attached. Her world without Buffy just isn't the same.

So, upon her arrival. Upon finding no Buffy, the hotel seems like a sad place.

"I guess I feel alone even though there's other people here." She says. "I know it's weird. And some of the people I remember being here, I don't think they are anymore. So double whammy, you know?"

Ah. Grey nods. He knows that feeling. Often where he was before here, people he cared about would disappear all the time. It was disconcerting to say the least; he hadn't liked it at all. And that hadn't even been someone he'd felt terribly close to. If he were without Cinna ...

The very idea chills him.

It would be nice if he could promise he wouldn't leave, but that would be something he's not entirely sure of, so he doesn't try to promise that.

He does, though, offer his hand palm up, if she wants a squeeze or something's hand to hold for a while. He knows that that can be comforting for him at least.

The offer is very simple and very kind, really. If anyone had asked her this morning if she would have been back in this hotel holding a boy's hand who she barely even knows at all, she would have said no. And yet here she is.

She takes Grey's hand just briefly if only because they literally just met and she doesn't want to make either of them uncomfortable. It is nice to have human contact though.

"Thanks. Are you alone here too?" She asks.

Grey shakes his head, which ducks for a moment. He doesn't mean to rub it in. He flashes another part of his chest to her, the elaborate script over the scarred part of his chest (the scar of where he died, or almost died anyway).

Cinna it says. He's very aware of how lucky he is to be here with the one who matters most.

"Is Cinna a person? Your person?" It might seem like a silly question, but Dawn wants to be sure about things.

She's never really thought about how difficult it would be to have a conversation without words. Dawn is a gabbing gabber who gabs a lot. She relies on her ability to string words, sometimes too many words, together. A lot of times it soothes her nerves to just spew words out into the void.

A conversation without speaking breaks everything down to the most simple of terms. It slows everything down, including Dawn's gabbing. It's strange for her to slow that part of her down.

That's nice, that way of putting it. Grey nods, smiling just a bit. Yes. Cinna is his person and he is Cinna's.

He presses his hand over his heart; he loves Cinna - Cinna, in fact, taught him what it was to love. Cinna taught him most everything that wasn't on the train. Sometimes, Grey would - and still does - get discouraged - there is still so much to learn and he's not sure his mind can hold it all. But Cinna - his person - makes it easier, better. Good.

He doesn't ask if Dawn has a person. He doesn't want to make her feel more lonely than she might already. Perhaps she'll find a person here? He doesn't know.

The act of pressing his hand over his heart is touching. It speaks volumes and in a language that Dawn can understand. She smiles again and nods. Grey loves Cinna. That's what she gets out of that and it's probably the only thing she needs to get.

"That's sweet. I don't think I've met her... or him. I mean, I've only been back here for a hot minute but I don't remember anyone named Cinna from the last time I was here either." Dawn says.

She doesn't remember Grey either. And she's such a busybody that she gets in most everybody's business before all is said and done. She would have known and remembered Grey and Cinna.

"How long have you two been together?" She asks.

If she needs clothes, Grey knows that Dawn should go to Cinna. But how does he convey that without words? He tugs lightly at what he's wearing, watching Dawn's face. Does she understand? He even mimes stitching on what he's wearing. Cinna makes clothing. If that helps her to know who he is.

Now, to the question at hand: he has to think about that. He's not great with dates, because on the train it didn't matter. But he raises one finger. One year? Perhaps a bit more. Here and in Teleios, but he doesn't even try to explain that.

It takes her a minute. Dawn isn't great at guessing games when it comes to people. This is just proving to her how much she relies on words. She wonders if Grey knows sign language. She knows the alphabet of sign language if not any more than that.

What she finally gets from it is that either Grey or Cinna, maybe both, are fashionistas. Cinna might be seamstress. Dawn isn't super fashionable but it's good to know that Grey's girlfriend might can set her up if she needs it.

"I promise to keep an eye out for Cinna." She tells him. "One year is a super long time. At least I think so. So that's cool."

Dawn tilts her head, pausing and finally letting her curiosity get the best of her before continuing. "Do you know sign language?"

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OPEN | did you fall from a shooting star ; one without a permanent scar

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