After The Slaying: The New World

from ibn al-talib
to faith lehane

MESSAGE STARTS

DEAR FAITH *STOP* MAGISTER X ALIVE AND WELL *STOP* OK SORT OF *STOP* GOING THRU NEEDED TRIALS IN CAVE *STOP* ALL BY DESIGN *STOP* DIGESTING NOTNUTS NOW OK *STOP* NOTNUTS EQUAL FRIED BUGS *STOP* TOLERATING LOCAL WATER OK NOW TOO *STOP* SAYS SEE YOU SOON *STOP* ACTUALLY NOT TALKING NOW *STOP* TRUST ME *STOP*

MESSAGE ENDS



>

Dear Diary,

Buf and the extraction detail found Marc. Alive. Sick, but alive. He's in Germany now. They said I can see him later.

Xander's gone. I can't see him anymore.

I hate the news for for Faith, but I love it for me. I'm happy I'm sad I feel good I feel bad and I still don't know what to do.

Sincerely,

Dawn



.

3:11 PM 11/30/09

They made it official today.

Xander's chute opened over the Kush, but it caught some kind of updraft and floated across "impassible mountain terrain."

They got no idea where he landed.

I got no idea what to do.


.

Dear Diary,

Still no word about Marc. I stay so worried and try to keep his mom and sibs from getting sick with it. They put up a good front, but it's clear his situation is working on them something awful. I yell, I bawl, I pound my pillow -- I don't care who sees it or what they think. They're spies, so that's their problem. I've got to keep it together for Marc and his fam, bottom L.

Diary, I haven't told anyone this, but I just got something to give me hope, and right now, hope is the best drug I could possibly have. There's no trank ever invented that will do what hope will do for you. I'm finding that out.

Hope arrived in the form of a sword/axe/pointy-edge thing called a mandolin. It has the basic outline-type shape of the musical instrument, but it's not for playing, that's for sure! Dang thing is SHARP!

I can't say more about it (like from who or at where or by how I came by it -- that stuff) except that it's called The Mandolin of Galahad. I'm to treat this thing with the greatest of care.

A search of the 'Net came up with a lot of stuff about Galahad's relationship to magic weapons and chivalry. Chivalry seems to have less to do with kissing ladies' hands (a shame 'bout that) and more to do with some kind of active science of personal behavior.

I also found out that a mandolin was a knight's weapon of first resort -- the thing you grabbed after you got your shorts on. Maybe before.

I was also told, "Let him practice." And that, dear diary, was all I got.

Sincerely,

Dawn

P.S.: I may not be pregnant. Or I may.

P.P.S.: Xander may be MIA. Or may not. Faith's sick over it. *click* Just put hope on hold.


<

11/05/09 3:32 PM

Sometimes you think you know people. You know who they are, what they'll do. Before he was my mister, Mister X was his wanna-be gal-pal's Mister Back-up. Then he was mine. 

Well, now he's backed up and hauled his stoopid a%$ off to Bacteria-stan on a suicide mission, leaving me and Dev stuck with the pieces of his idiocy.

Pending tragedy brings out the poet, eh?

This war is a psychological war. There's no doubt about that. But it's killing us all. In pieces.

Maybe that's what Marcus Mario Cesario or whatever was about to find out, and maybe that's why he was grabbed. I finally have something in common with Dawn.

I just thank Chuck for that tattered little prayer book he gave me. He called it obsolete. 

Obsolete it ain't.



-

Dear Marc:

God I hope you get this somehow

My love I am nothing without you 

You know this better than me don't you

I'm not scared of losing you I'm scare of me losing me and that's just selfish isn't it dear

But I'm more scared of you losing you because I know if they've got you you're blaming yourself

You more than measure up to your father's expectations you are brave you are kind you are 

You are just are that's what I mean -- it takes the rarest courage to be yourself because you have to face yourself and face the consequences of jealousy and meanness of the world that come with the you-be-you mind that's so evolved in you

O Marc please stay safe do what they say don't look to escape Xander's coming to get you have faith

I love you

Sincerely

Your wife,
Dawn

P.S. Maybe Buffy's helping. Please be patient with us. God bless you. I think I may be pregnant.





>

 <open Twitty stream>

<alert by DAWN>

 10/14/09

Carlos Quintanamo-Reyes

23 August 2009

Willow Rosenberg
202020 Alizarin Crimson Lane Apt. 3210
Wildewoode, CA

Dear Willow,

It's been a while since I've sat down to set them down -- my thoughts, that is! We're all so wired now that it seems our portable devices own us, instead of the other way 'round! Frankly, I find them tiresome.

I was more than happy to help pull together a wedding and reception for Xander and Faith. It went well, in spite of all the desperate circumstances, I might add! I was most impressed with the newlyweds' composure and their fondness for one another -- and almost as impressive was the Rev. Smithson (little did we know all this time he was clergy). It was fortunate that he had a friend who was a fellow Episcopal priest, and who was quite understanding in allowing us to use a small chapel for the service and his home for the reception -- !

Now to your question as to whether evildoers can invade your dreamscape. It is of highest importance at this time in your development, says Uncle, and you deserve a carefully considered answer. And the answer is -- no, they can't.

OK, I may need to add a :-) here! But the truth is just that simple: you are who you are, and any odd thoughts the Obsessor may prompt others to try and project into your unconscious while you are in REM sleep are not you. This truth is absolute, and no one may violate it. Unless, of course, dear Willow, you let them.

It's a little like the rule you abided by in Sunnydale -- the only vampires who may enter your home are those you invite. But it's a little different, too -- and this is important! Yes, you may experience "dreams" prompted from some other (and malicious) pseudo-consciousness, but they only "take" (and then only temporarily) if you admit them as authentic.

How do you know them? They will "feel fake," if you will allow me to put it that drolly. But what's most important to realize is the reason they feel fake -- the reason is you. The authenticity of your experience is completely yours. No one can take that from you, no matter how they may try.

Does any of this make sense, my good friend? I hope so, because it is the only way I know to put the problem -- "put" as in phrasing something and "put" as in placing it -- directly in your lap. The shuttle is in your court (Do people still play badminton? I hope so - it's such a lovely late summer game!). You must respond within your ability and choosing. You are both able and wise, so I have perfect confidence in you!

This directly affects the current situation between you and Michelle. Let's put our cards on the table: ears are buzzing over how she was frightened by the manifestation of your "other" -- and many around you since have assumed you turned secretly demonic after that terrible battle in the desert. Uncle assures me (somewhat needlessly -- though his support of course is always welcome) that your "other" is you, only not you.

I may need to explain that, but I hope not. I believe you realize this manifestation is part of your emerging wisdom and poses no threat to the universe or anyone in it! Still, Michelle's reaction was perfectly understandable. The few who seem to have anticipated your manifestation (they must remain anonymous) felt it better to just allow it happen and let the chips fall ... . I personally would have felt a warning might have been in order, but I was not consulted.

Power is it -- and it is you. Yet not you. Where is the solution to such a dilemma? Uncle has an answer that I feel sure you'll like. He said, "Just tell Willow to wear her love like heaven." I must say, at first, I drew a blank. Uncle's remarks, as we have discussed, do that a lot.

I assume Michelle also needs to hear this advice, and that she can help you find the right way to make the solution a practical reality. I'm sure the two of you will work it out together. It may be that a little "think-talk" with Oz might help, too. Have you taken any walks out there lately?

Know that your love is already like heaven, my friend. We who really know you already wear its truth like fine clothing for all to see. Perhaps it's time you did the same.

Sincerely,

Sa'id ibn el-Kalandri
010101 Madder Rose Circle Apt. 919191
Las Vegas, NE

P.S.: My sister and I still have our badminton gear, if you and Michelle would like to play sometime.

P.P.S.: Should you ever decide to take us on in badminton, know this about my sister: she's five feet nine inches of pure Arab 'swing-thing' power! I'll bring my brother's old polo helmet for you, just in case. ;-)



>

3:35 PM 8/9/09

My man X is starting to man-freak -- that means him putting some stoneface on and clamming up tight. got him to talk tho  

Buf has been busier than we knew -- it seems there are worlds between heaven and hell and jon has been giving his gal-pal a tour. Great! As if she hasn't been into enough already!

Anywho, it's starting to get to the rest of us -- Xander's been having nightmares and Wil has been projecting something weird. We think maybe her nicking Draco V threw a switch in her head and made a connection ... . oh brother! Chuck's been helping with some rev-therap on Wil's gal-pal, but it's only on a for-now.

I'm big enough a gal to have figured out there's no getting out of here alive -- but why does there have to be more "here" there, everywhere ... ?

P.S.: Buf's latest "memo to a meltdown" was fake -- like I thought it was when X told me about it. It may have been real at some point, but the wadded-up paper had pretty heavy sun fading on part of the back. I bet she left it upside down in her car's back seat for a year or more, then she found it and thought she'd use it to play us. Motive? I don't think she needs one, personally. But I'll let my husband work that one out.


.

 Aug. 6, 2009

Took me a week to get up the nerve -- or maybe just settle them ... .
It wasn't a dream, it wasn't real, it just was.
There she was, black as a jet of ink, standing at the foot of the bed in moonlight -- talking to me in some language I didn't understand.
But she was there beside me, asleep!!!!!!!
I tried to alert her friends using one of those silly social-networking things that something awful had happened, and it got mixed up with some other crisis they were having ... so I just dropped it. 
It dropped me, too -- down a well.
I haven't told Willow -- I'm so scared.
Will it happen again? When? How can a statue of obsidian speak? When nothing but air was there before? I stopped having night terrors when I was four! What was this???



o

 ... found by a cemetery groundskeeper near a certain large headstone after a full moon's night.) 

 it seems we never know when we'll need them.

Sometimes I want to go back to when we, as the Scoobies, were in Sunnydale. Though we were in a dangerous place (to say the least!), it felt supportive and comfortable anyway because our parents were there for us -- well, except for Xander, and even he could depend on his folks to do what they normally did!

Now we're starting to be the ones others depend on, and it's far from a comforting feeling. Michelle depends on me (and I need her, in many respects), little Devon depends on Faith and now Xander, and the whole shooting match depends on Buffy, no matter how much she wants to avoid it!

Buffy losing her mom and the mess it left her in toughened her far more than we realized at the time. We were all such messes ourselves that we just sort of left it to her to work it through. She did, exploding a system that has been with man- and demon-kind for millennia, and we're still trying to figure out our place in what remains.

Whether we're a blip or a curve in the human-demon situation we can't know now, but somehow I feel we will someday. I've given up meditation, or even thinking of the Wildewoode Center of All Worship for Everyone as a "meditation center" because I'm better informed. But whatever it is I do when I stare through those beveled windows into whatever it is I stare into, I depend on it to see me through.

Buff (while she was getting her forehead stapled back together after the DDO) suggested I take up fencing. She was cool about it, but I could tell she felt the reason she's going to have a little scar from now on had something to do with me only nicking that drago-vamp. That feels pretty bad, because I can't undo what I did. It also spells "relief," because that's all the damage that was done!

What I fear most is not what's coming next. What I fear most is facing it alone. They're going to get one or more of us eventually -- it's just a matter of time. I need my friends, maybe more than they need me right now, and I guess what our victory in the desert does is buy me time to even the need.

I spoke to your uncle about getting a fencing teacher, because I figured he'd know if anybody would, and he did suggest someone -- whose teaching includes the Persian method. "The what?" I said -- after which I found out! It seems (and I know you know this already) that soooo many Oriental tales of mystic swordplay are actually Persian stories with real-life backgrounds. So, the sword of Deborah is getting some swing time from The Enemy (just joking -- please!). For all I know, the Persians may have got their swing thing from the Hebrews. All for Love, say I.

Speaking of which, let me reassert my love for you, my friend. Please remember me as your friend whenever you can. And thank you, again, for all you've done for us.

Sincerely,

Willow Rosenberg
(same address)

P.S.: Do you know where I can get a pretty good practice scimitar? (Maybe two!)

P.P.S.: Can evildoers invade your entire dreamworld? Even make you think you're dreaming stuff you aren't actually dreaming? 

and it's what I've felt about him for so long, but could never really find words to express. Xander has always been a person who could sense purpose in life, and he's the one who would first express frustration when life seems purposeless. Among the Scoobs, he made us make sense.

Jon told me that Xander is beginning to understand this about himself through a process he called "anamnesis" -- another of those Greek words I have to look up to spell. But Jon said it's not about a "past life" the way it's commonly portrayed, rather a way of understanding how everything's connected and how it's connected to a particular individual. As a part of Xander's "individuation" (these words!), he's beginning to sense just how it's all related to him. At least that's what Jon says.

This is scary to me. I know, you'd think battling dragon-like vampires from the netherworld would be what's scary. Well, they are! But I can grab a sword and deal with it (more on that later) or experience a prior vision that helps ready me for the task. The idea that my lifelong friend is going through significant changes -- even if he's changing more into himself -- is truly unsettling.

It's as unsettling as giving up witchcraft (or what I thought was witchcraft) for good!  Speaking of witches, Michelle was really spooked by the dragons. She is so into naturality that the sight and sound of beings very unnatural just rattled her cage something awful. I'm trying to help, but just talking about it makes her worse. I'm not worried, though (well, not much), because she is a survivor.

Why can't I live like Faith? (I still can't believe she's Xander's wife!) She just takes things as they come, and then she leaves them when she's done. I respect her for that, I guess, but I also keep my distance. She's not my cup of tea, that's for sure.

I'll admit it was inspiring to watch her and Buffy cut through those dragons! I nicked one, but I wasn't good for much else. They came at us during the night, emerging from the dark like they were part of it -- maybe just using Darkness herself as camouflage, I'm not sure.

When they emerged, Jon held them off of Dawn and her husband, who were really shaking like leaves in a hurricane! The dragons were wary of us, but they were ready to attack. When the very first light of dawn lit Dawn's terror-stricken face, we could see better and so could the dragons. That's when it started.

We travel with our swords, Sa'id. I know you said to take care of them, but

(end of page two)

 

14 June 2009

Sa'id Al-Kalandri
101010 Lake Meade Esplanade Apt 01010
Las Vegas, NE 00111-0101

Dear Sa'id:

Thanks beyond thanks for everything you did for Xander and Faith! I'm sorry this is so late in coming, but I needed to think about it all before I set it down. Your care begs thanks; you also need a complete update. Well, at least I think you need one (maybe I just need to sort ... .).

It seems the FBI is winding up its investigation into the Desert Drag-Out, but I expect it's just a part of the probe into all of us. Regrettable, but inevitable, I suppose. Personally, I wanted to stay under the radar after Sunnydale went to the World Down Under. However, some people just can't help but draw attention, from those who are positive and who are negative.

When the slaying stopped, Sa'id, I wanted it to stay stopped. I didn't get that wish, either. I guess when you get magic swords on extended loan, you're bound to attract attention from those beings that are really negative!

Anyway, the quickie wedding (as nice as you could have made it, under the circumstances ) was probably what Faith really wanted, because she's never really one for those little niceties. Xander once told me, "She uses the flat-rate book."

I had no idea what he meant at the time. But it stuck in my head, anyway, as things you don't fully understand do sometimes. I finally got it one day when I went with Michelle to take her hot German sportsmobile into the shop for a tune-up. I couldn't believe the bill!

Everything, and I mean everything, was itemized, down to the last turn of the final screw on the bottom protector plate! Maybe I'm exaggerating (and Michelle said it was worth the money, if you want to keep you car {note: she was quoting your uncle, as if I didn't know!} a long time), but it made an impression.

Maybe it also made an impression because of Xander's remark -- Faith may be "high-maintenance" (as some men say about some women), but she makes sure every detail is worth it, in the long run. It also may mean that Faith puts little faith (sorry) in the finer points. The bottom line (however high the maintenance cost may be) is all she requires.

Normally, I wouldn't go on about someone I'm not all that close to. But she's family now, as far as I'm concerned. And that means I must analyze! ;-)

What concerns me most, though, is something Jon pointed out to me about Xander -- how he is becoming his own force of nature -- something that I'm learning has its roots in ancient Greek philosophy, and possibly well before that. The word Jon used is "entelechy" -- an understanding of purpose, at least I think that's what it means,

(end of page one)

3:52 PM 6/1/09

When I saw the (almost) new moon, we should have known better than try to get hitched.

When Dawnie's hub talked us into bivoac'ing in the desert as a bach party/bridal shower combo, we should have known better than to try it.

When Drago-Vamp (my name for whatever it was) and his Mini-Me's showed up, what we should have known better than to do was too late to not do it.

After the Ball, the big black spot in the middle of the Las Vegas Desert was a little more than the eff bee eye could ignore.

So, we got written up again. Buf got scuffed (teach her to be late!). Me -- still got mah sword. No one asked this time. (Ha! Betcha!)

Have to wonder what the file on us looks like. (Dear Husband X just had to tell one of them suits that he looked like Mulder. Nobody but X thought that was funny.)

Wil said she's gonna to take fencing lessons. 'bout time. She swings her sword like a girl.

P.S.: Jon pulled me to one side after it all, and he said I need to keep an eye on X. Sez he's "manifesting." Whatever.

X is a man, so he's going to "fest" when he wants to -- right?



.

3:27 PM 5/26/09

Honeymoon in Vegas ... 

Fresh out of eff bee eye interrog room (2x)

x should be out soon

i hope

d&*# dragons!

(gotta say: buf gets Most Improved Award for swords[wo]manship!)

Chuck's a rev! Ha!


,