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Dawn Summers

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I stole this from Buffy. [Oct. 8th, 2006|02:01 am]
Your Homicidal Rampage! by crash_and_burn
Your name:
Weapon of Choice:Your own bare hands
Your Favorite Target:Americans
Your Kill Count:1,103,876,951
Your Battle Cry:"Touch me, I"m happy!"
Years You Spend in Jail:14
How Much Money In Damages You Cause:$161,497,536,848,286
Your Homocidal Insanity Level:
79%



Haha, I think I win. "Touch me, I'm happy!"
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Where did I go wrong? [info]thelyricalmuses [Sep. 23rd, 2006|11:30 pm]
[mood | crushed]
[music |How To Save a Life - The Fray]

This was completely new territory for Dawn.

Vampires, she could handle. Her entire life hadn’t been filled with them, but the middle point had been reached and far surpassed, and now she couldn’t remember what life was like before them. Now it was all old hat. Take extra care when being out at night, especially when alone. Always have a stake on you, carry a cross, some holy water, whatever would fit into your bag. Preferably a mix of the items, because not just one was a sure thing. You shouldn’t trust vampires, not by a long shot. Even if they appear to be your closest friends. That’s not your friend; that’s a monster wearing its skin like a snug little suit and the second you lower your guard, they’ll go straight for the jugular. Literally. There were rules to observe, rules to keep you safe. It didn’t fit into a neat little box, but it worked almost the same.

Demons were no different. Okay, there were no sure things against demons and far less rules. The lines were less clear, too. Not all demons were evil. A good majority were, yes, but there were many, many exceptions to the rules. Clem wasn’t that bad. And there was that Whistler guy. Angel’s friend Doyle. Even Cordelia had become half-demon to handle her visions. (Note the line between bitchy and evil.) But there was still some definition, and at least she had some idea of what to do when faced with one.

But this… this was so hard and strange. She’d faced terrible and frightful things so early in life, and the effect was that no one would think she’d be scared or hurt by anything. Okay, no one who thought she was just Dawn Summers, the girl displaced from Sunnydale when it became a giant hole in the earth who worked extra hard and finished high school by distance right on time and managed to get into college. That girl.

So why was this so hard? She wasn’t completely naïve to the hardships and potholes. Buffy had hit every bump in the road, and she was sure she had forged a map to avoid her sister’s mistakes.

But she crashed and burned all the same.

The rules were many, and all of them fell into conflict with each other. But she tried her hardest to observe them all, to work it from every angle. She needed him, but she didn’t cling. She gave up her time, but still kept some for herself. She was humble, she was proud. She listened to every word he had to say, and still managed to talk too much. She was innocent, and still got dirty. It wasn’t enough. She gave and gave and gave of herself until she finally gave herself. Two weeks later, it still wasn’t enough.

She stared past him, her eyes going fuzzy and blank. The tears welling in her eyes only added distortion, twisting the vague shapes of the chairs and tables in the coffee shop to nothingless blobs. He was still talking, but she didn’t listen. He’d already said what he needed and nothing else meant anything. Eventually he would realize she stopped listening and get up, slipping away to leave her with herself.

dawn summers
fandom: btvs
word count: 545
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[info]thelyricalmuses: I miss you, I guess that I should. [Aug. 20th, 2006|10:03 pm]
We've never fought this long.

I mean, sisters, yeah. We fight. We always have, always will, until we're both old biddies pushing on each other's wheelchairs into the edge of doorways until the nurses come over and separate us. And then we'd wheel back together and it would start all over again. (Don't even start to remind me that she's a Slayer and the chances of that scenario actually happening is slim to none. The delusions are my friends and they keep me cozy at night. Besides, there are other Slayers now. No reason for her to not live a very long time and give us the chance to annoy each other to death.) But it's never lasted this long. We've never not talked for this long.

I should call her.

But why should I be the one who cracks and makes the first move? I mean, I already sorta made it. Hopping on a plane and flying across an ocean and halfway across a continent is a definite first move, right? That's big. That's, like, huge in the scale of moves. So it's her turn. Something. Anything. Right now, I'd even settle for a rock thrown through my window. Though I don't think the motel people would really appreciate that. But it's the sentiment that matters.

I'd give my left pinky for just a little bit of sentiment from Buffy right now.

I don't even remember what we were fighting about. I said some things and she said some things, and I said something else. And I think a chair was involved somehow. Anyway. The specifics don't matter. I don't remember, I don't wanna remember. All I know is I regret those specifics. And I miss her. It’s lame and stupid, but I do. I’m the little sister here, and I need her. Sue me.

I'll call her. I will.

Dawn Summers
Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Word Count: 311
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Welcome to the Happiness Hotel. [Jan. 25th, 2005|03:57 pm]
[mood | apathetic]

So... this is it. This is Rome.

I perched on the end of the couch, my feet resting on the suitcase that held half of everything I had in the world. Two suitcases, a duffle bag, and my backpack. Yep, that was it. Which could be considered a lot or a little, depending on who you were and if you knew that all my worldlies were at the bottom of the sinkhole that was Sunnydale, California. And a lot of those things were irreplaceable. My journals. Photos of Mom. Me and Buffy's baby pictures. Actually, we may be better off without the baby photos. Less material for blackmail. Why do parents get camera-happy when you're in the tub or naked or doing something embarassing?

So the flights, or rather... flights here weren't all that bad. What happened before was. I mean, okay, seeing Spike again after we all thought he'd gone to the hereafter was nice. Great, even. Okay, so I was jumping up and down and squealing like a girl. It's expected. I am a girl.

But the bombing of the Hyperion? Bad. Giles' heartattack? Waaaaaay bad. He went to London, Andrew going with him. I had to admit, it was kinda weird being here without him around. He was annoying, kinda, yeah, but.. he grew on you. After Sunnydale, he wasn't so much 'hostage' or 'guestage' and more.. 'friendage'. All right, more my friend than anything else, but he was useful. In domestic situations, that is, which is why he went with Giles. All that time, hanging around the house, he got pretty good at the housekeeping and cooking. Yeah, Giles probably had a nurse or something looking after him, but Andrew was good company. Keep the brain sharp with D&D. Which I ... knew nothing about. Of course, duh. I'm not like, nerdy or anything. It was sorta fun, though, with the characters and the-

"So, uh, go, find rooms, find a roomate, and make yourselves... at home. Ciao!"

Wait. Wait, what? Oh my god, I had gotten so used to tuning Buffy out that I think I missed something important. Rooms, roommate. Ugh. Which meant everyone else would pick, and I'd get stuck with someone. Or rather, they'd get stuck with me. Cause the little sister, always the big burden and nuisance. I waited until all the others had gone upstairs or elsewhere, before I grabbed my stuff and trudged upstairs. Let everyone get settled in and see where there was a vacancy. Cordy was tacking a little sign up on her door. Oh, she wasn't sharing. Everyone surprised, please raise your hand, so clues can be passed out. Oh well. At least I wasn't having to share with Cordelia. Spike and Angel were in another room, arguing about.. Lord of the Rings? Huh, so there was an in-flight movie. I thought those things were like, myths. Legends. Like leprechauns.

I stopped at the next doorway, taking a moment to push the door open. I expected to see someone's luggage, or somebody already setting up shop, but.. it was empty. An empty room. Huh. I dragged my suitcases in, still looking around, like waiting for someone to pop up and yell for me to get out. But, so far, so good. I sat down on the bed, kicking my sneakers off. Still, no one popping up. Wow. Maybe, just maybe, I was getting lucky, and getting to pick my roommate, instead of being told, "Oh yeah, you're sharing with so-and-so." Anyone could walk in, and I could have my say.

My say definitely included not sharing a room with Buffy. We were both too old for it to be cute or fun. But there were others, so.. possibilities.
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When in Rome... [Jan. 9th, 2005|02:07 am]
[mood | lonely]
[music |Breaking the Girl - Red Hot Chili Peppers]

[ sample post for [info]daylightfadings ]


When in Rome, you should do as the Romans do. Okay, if I do as the Romans do, I would be brooding, smoking, sharpening stakes, making dinner, or.. yeah. I mean, we all lived in Rome, so that made us Romans, right? And Xander and Willow and even Spike had something interesting to do. Why can't I? Something cooler than this, which was staring at the copy of Jane Eyre and the college ruled paper beside it. The essay that I was supposed to do an hour ago and still didn't want to do. Why did they call it college ruled paper anyways? Was it just to feel superior over us poor high schoolers, that oooo, it was college ruled and we were still stuck using the wide ruled, which you could write on using a crayon and still stay in the lines?

Buffy was still stuck on the idea of me having a high school diploma. I was totally okay with not doing the whole school thing, really. Perfectly fine. I could do with some drifting. I mean, most of your older vampires didn't have a high school education, and they did just fine.

Yeah, that hadn't been the winning argument with Buffy either. Neither was trying to pull the high and mighty 'I was once ancient and mystical energy' card. So here I was, useless key Dawn, writing essays and doing trig and other assorted fun through my independent-study distance learning thing that Mr. Renfield's money payed for, and Wesley and Willow helped with. It wasn't as easy and fun as it said. You never really notice how much you like a classroom until you don't get the option of having one. Sure, my mind drifted during lectures, but some part still heard them and filed them away for later use. And now, there was nothing to file. No lectures, no group reading, no 'shhh, eyes on your own paper' during tests. There were no other papers.

I tossed my pen down, pushing away from the little desk that was Dawn's private school. Down the narrow and permadusty stairs, there was the old lobby that we tried to make into a living room sorta area. No one was around, except that blue-haired woman.. demon... person, Illyria. She didn't even notice me; she seemed rather intent on the freshly picked little centerpiece on the table in front of her. My 'Happiness Hotel' banner was still up, tucked in one corner, the colors looking a little faded. Xander and I had made it, singing the song as we put it up, right after we got here. It was silly and fun and made this place feel a little bit like home. Rome wasn't home. This wasn't home. I still missed California. LA and Sunnydale. Out here, there was nothing. And the only other person my age was Kennedy and she and Willow were always.. yeah.

I know my life had never been normal in any sense of the word, but... I wanted my normal back.
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