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

[the_dawnster]

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.

Comments

[silenttrainbaby]

There are random moments in the day when Grey isn't with Cinna. If he's working with a client in his shop, if he is intent on working on a design (he is making glamorous, elaborate dresses, now, made with yards and yards if fabric that slips through Grey's fingers like water as he carefully handles it).

When he is alone, he often seeks the sun or the library: looking for books that he and Cinna can read together, or feeling that warmth on his shoulders. If it's warm enough, he will sit with his shirt off, feeling that heat on his shoulders. It often makes him sleepy.

When someone else enters the garden, he doesn't so much move as waken entirely, watching the girl who seems to be close to his own age. He still doesn't approach strangers; Cinna is all he needs. But if this girl looks up, she will see the silent, tattooed boy watching her without blinking. He doesn't look dangerous, not really. Just an observer, like a bird or a cat.

[praiseandglory]

Porthos has been back for a few weeks, and hasn't gone back to the war yet. He's been following Athos's advice, and making the most of that time. It's an opportunity to rest, and come back to the war in better condition.

He's also been avoiding Aramis.

Now one person he would not have been avoiding, if he had known that she was around, he finds out on the lawn, reading a book. He heads over to her with a smile, and has no hat to take off to greet her, but still politely calls out, "Mademoiselle Dawn," as he walks closer.

[farmboyjedi]

[Luke likes to come into the garden to meditate. It's quiet and calm and he can connect to the Force without a lot of interruption usually. He still spends time with Obi-Wan sometimes, but he knows there's a need for each to have their own time as well.

She feels a little odd in the Force, but it isn't anything he can place.

"Is that a kind of meditation? It seems kind of interesting." he said, noticing how she was concentrating. It wasn't quite like his, she seemed intense. Thinking hard. Not like how he tried to clear his own mind.

[notgivingyourmoneyback]

He's walking through the stacks looking for something interesting. Maybe he's hoping a series of amazing DVDs will suddenly appear somewhere and he'll have a movie or two to watch. Most of the time, it's nothing but books. Books are okay. He stopped reading random law books when he dropped the third one out of his lap and onto his feet because he fell asleep trying to read it. He's moved on to TV-tie-in novels when he can find them, and the occasional movie novelization.

What he finds in the library this time is unusual. He leans against one of the shelves. "The last time I saw you, you were trying to hold my door closed from the wrong side," he says casually.