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Title: "Through The Looking Glass"
Pairing/Characters: Connor/Dawn, Faith
Rating: R
Summary: Five years after Chosen; Dawn visits Faith.
A/N: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
tiarrajanae who wanted Dawn/Connor and five years after “Chosen” Dawn visiting Faith for the Darkficathon. Hope you like this. I began to write more… so there’s a part too… it’s sort of just continuing in my brain and my brain is weird so… *shrug* Read-on. Hopefully it’s up to par. (Part one can be read as it’s own thing, but there’s the continuation going to be posted on my LJ) I’ll let you stop reading my commentary and go to the story. Remember that feedback is a treasured, treasured thing.
Dawn tries to explain to Connor about her need to see Faith. Something about finalizing or growing. He thinks he hears her, but some of his memories get in the way. In another time, Connor knew Faith – He’s pretty sure he did, but sometimes his mind and thoughts blend and contrast. When that happens he tries to focus on what he knew before the change.
He had a family – a younger sister, Jennifer. His aunt lived with them. Her name was Amelia. He remembers vividly about screaming, lost in a department store when he was five. He remembers his mother rushing towards him and his father swooping him up into his arms. The safe image flickers briefly into one of a hell. Black. It was all black, and there were creatures. All sorts. He fought them.
Things become easier with normality. His long-term relationship with Tracy ended when they went to separate colleges, but somehow it seemed right. It wasn’t as if he wasn’t sad to break it off with Tracy, but their journey had ended.
His third year at Stanford, he met Dawn Summers as she was working in the nearby Starbucks. She served him a plain black coffee everyday for two months and wondered why he never picked anything interesting. That’s what Starbucks was for, right? Not just plain regular coffee. She asked him out on a Tuesday, when he left his biology book at his usual table.
He accepted because there was something different about her. She made him feel things that he had never felt before. Wasn’t love, he knew that. He had felt love before. He had loved Tracy. He loved his parents, even the vampire ones that muddled inside his brain. He loved Jennifer's cat Snuggles and cried when she had to be put down. Love was not a new emotion for him. Primal – strong… she made him feel… he couldn’t place it. He thinks that she made him feel like he was like he used to be.
His hand tightens around hers as he parks his car, an environmentally safe Ford Prius, near Stockton's Women's Penitentiary. Dawn exhales loudly and a small tremor runs through her arms and shoulders.
"Are you sure that you want to do this?" Connor asks her again, even though she’s told him about a million times that she needs to do this. Dawn briefly gives him a look that says, ‘Don’t you try to fucking dare change my mind.’ and opens the car door. He clears his throat and pulls her back briefly to kiss her on the cheek. The tough expression on her face melts away and she flashes a smile to him – one that looks so much like Darla’s. He thinks her name was Darla. "If you want me to come in, I can," he tells her.
"Why?" Dawn’s lips curve into a small smirk, "You think I’m gonna go in and become someone’s prison bitch? Just a visit, Connor, or can you not handle that much away time from me?"
A soft, rolling chuckle escapes from his lips. "Yeah, you’re so hot," he retorts with playful sarcasm.
"You forget it you’re gonna die a slow, painful death."
"Oh, I hope so."
"Morbid freak." She’s so close that her breath is on him, creating tiny beads of moisture on his upper lip.
"You’re dating me, what does that make you?"
"Even freakier."
"Are you horny?" he cocks an eyebrow back.
She scowls towards him, "Now I’m dating a ‘Horny Morbid Freak’."
"I didn’t say that I was, you’re the one practically grinding against my leg."
"Shut up."
"Bundle of energy."
Something shifts inside her and her glare becomes darker and more focused towards him. "Fuck you," she states and he bites his lip in order to not give her some macho male ‘You did.’ The look on her face softens and she looks away. "I’m doing this," she insists stubbornly. "Not gonna take this shit.”
She slides out of her seat and grabs an envelope. She then makes her way towards the building. Connor waits inside the car.
Entering inside the building she has to flash some ID and they inspect her for any weapons she might have brought in. They check her purse and her pockets, along with her coat. Some guy named Eddie shows her the way to the waiting room. He seems nice, she thinks.
She sits down in a plastic chair and touches the phone that will allow her to talk with Faith. It’s still warm from its last user. She doesn’t pick it up yet. Steel barred gates open for Faith and she comes into view through the glass directly in front of Dawn. Her wrists are in chains.
Faith pushes up her sleeves with difficulty, the handcuffs hinder her movement. Dawn can see violent red scratches on the insides of Faith’s arms as if she was trying to claw her way out of her skin. The newer ones are deeper and redder. One is still bleeding and stains the blue inmate uniform, turning it purple. Her arms are swollen with needy slices.
As she picks up the phone Dawn gazes towards the dried brown blood under Faith’s nails. She holds the still warm phone against her ear and tries not to be completely grossed out by the greasiness of the previous person’s hair or fingers.
"Didn’t know I had a little sister.”
"Had to say something, Faith," Dawn starts, her voice gentle, "They don’t let just anyone see those on Death Row."
Faith grimaces as if it’s the first time she’s heard the news.
"How are you doing?"
"Best as can be expected on the day you’re gonna die."
Dawn closes her eyes momentarily. "Here I thought you were going to say ‘Five by five’," she says, trying to lighten things.
"No point in lying anymore."
"Think you’re not going to hell if you tell the truth?"
"Nah. My mother was Roman Catholic. I’m going to hell anyway." Faith states honestly, "Was going there a long time ago. Besides, never really looked to anyone as a higher power guiding me. Always thought that I was that higher power myself. Probably means I’m already in Limbo with the repenting non-believers. Not to mention why I’m here in the first place."
Faith’s hands tremble, and the constant shaking is barely noticeable. Dawn sees it; Faith doesn’t want to fucking die. She shouldn’t have come. Seeing this is going to make it harder.
"You tried to kill my sister so many times and now you’re afraid?" Fucking wimp.
Faith’s eyes are sharp and dark as she meets Dawn’s eyes, which are full of light and water and some regret.
"Didn’t say I never was. You made those assumptions," her voice wavers and clogs in her throat.
And it’s true, Dawn did make presumptions; about Faith, about who she actually was. She liked to think that she knew how the other girl felt, but she didn’t.
"Are you sorry?" she asks.
Faith’s face contorts into a disgusted sneer, "What are you playin’ here, Pipsqueak? You’re asking me the questions that you already know the answers to." Her arms rub hard unconsciously against the table in front of her and chips of dried blood and dead skin shed away. Her left arm starts to piss crimson.
"Are you?" Dawn prods, her throat tightening and her voice raising to a higher pitch as she starts to tear at the edges of the envelope she brought.
"Stop. Fucking, stop it." Faith’s stomach churns and rolls like she’s about to vomit.
"No! You stop it. If you’re all so high and powerful then you can do it. You can tell me if you’re freaking sorry. You can tell me, it’s not the end of the world to admit things!" Dawn suppresses the urge to scream at her as prison guards turn to check on them.
Faith moves to hang up the phone, but then Dawn says something.
"Buffy knows."
And she stops rubbing her arms on the table and making herself bleed. She holds the phone back to her ear, "She what?"
"She knows… that you’re being executed."
Thick tears suddenly stream down her cheeks and she tries to take in deep breaths, but the only thing that happens is her breath coming out in coughs, thick hacks. Faith’s chest heaves up and down and a sick look crawls across her face.
"Fuck you," Faith sputters.
"You did," Dawn breathes.
Her body shudders and shakes with each sob, she tries to wipe at her tears, but the handcuffs are making it strenuous.
"Is she coming?"
Regret. Regret. Regret. It stirs inside Dawn.
"I’m here for her."
Faith cries and lets the salt in her tears sting the thick wounds she caused.
"Time’s up." Eddie tells Dawn, covering the girl’s shoulder with his heavy hand.
Dawn settles the phone on the table counter next to the mutilated envelope and even when she pulls away, she can still hear Faith and her lament.
"Execution’ll be at ten sharp. You’ll have to come here a half an hour before," Eddie says.
"Can you make sure she gets that?" Dawn asks, motioning to the letter she left. He nods and she leaves quickly as Faith’s sounds softly fade away.
Her heart pounds in her throat and head as she returns to Connor having fallen asleep in the front seat of the car. The sun floods down on him. He looks dead. The only thing that signals his life is the small snore that he releases as she pushes him to the passenger side and his chest’s gentle rise and fall.
Connor awakes with a nasal like snort of air, "Is it over?" he asks, semi-awake.
"Not yet," Dawn replies.
She puts the car into drive and puts her foot on the pedal, speeding away. They stop at a diner and Connor scarfs his way through a cheeseburger and french fries. He reaches over to Dawn’s plate and nibbles at her food.
"You sure you’re not hungry?" he asks.
"I’m not going to eat before she gets put to death. I don’t know how you can." Dawn looks Connor over judgmentally and shoves her fries towards him.
"I don’t know…" Connor has the faintest feeling that she’s angry with him, "Maybe death makes me hungry."
"So, at my funeral you’re going to raid the buffet."
He can feel a small smile pull his cheeks into a rubber band grin, "There would never be food at your funeral."
She gives a faint forgiving beam of a smile to him in return.
"You wanna bring a bag of popcorn when we go?"
Connor laughs and thinks that he’s falling in love with her, "I think they’d kick me out."
"That was the point." A giggle bubbles through her lips, before she looks into her lap as if it’s wrong to laugh. A part of her is right. She’s having fun here, she has her whole life ahead of her and Faith is preparing for her own death.
Connor cups Dawn’s cheek with his hand and presses his lips tenderly to hers. She kisses him back softly, her lips meeting his. He begins to pull away and threads his fingers in her hair, kissing her temple.
"Things will be okay," Connor promises, though Dawn can’t believe him. Things just wouldn’t be okay. She thought that he knew that too.
When they return to the prison, they sit in a place to view Faith’s death and suddenly Connor feels no longer hungry, though it could be the fact that he ate both his and Dawn’s meals.
Dawn grips tightly at Connor’s hand, cutting off circulation and the only way he can tell is how white the tips of his fingers are right now. He can’t feel her there.
A guard, the same one that check <>Dawn’s things earlier to make sure that she wasn’t carrying any arsenals, escorts Faith into the room. They prepare her. It’s more than just the two of them in the viewing room. Xander’s in the back, there, but turning his head so he doesn’t have to see.
"Where do you think we go when we die?"
"I don’t know," Connor says.
"How do you know we go anywhere?"
"I don’t. – Staying here… that would be the worst hell."
Dawn swallows hard.
Faith refuses her last words and as they give her the lethal injection, she mouths something. Strapped down, poison and needles pricking into her scabs and lacerations. Xander meets her eyes briefly, but quickly looks away.
"I’m sorry," Faith says, barely audibly before she begins to convulse. Her eyes roll into the back of her head and Dawn’s not sure if it’s her that she’s talking to.
When she goes, she’s gone.
Pairing/Characters: Connor/Dawn, Faith
Rating: R
Summary: Five years after Chosen; Dawn visits Faith.
A/N: Written for
tiarrajanae who wanted Dawn/Connor and five years after “Chosen” Dawn visiting Faith for the Darkficathon. Hope you like this. I began to write more… so there’s a part too… it’s sort of just continuing in my brain and my brain is weird so… *shrug* Read-on. Hopefully it’s up to par. (Part one can be read as it’s own thing, but there’s the continuation going to be posted on my LJ) I’ll let you stop reading my commentary and go to the story. Remember that feedback is a treasured, treasured thing.Dawn tries to explain to Connor about her need to see Faith. Something about finalizing or growing. He thinks he hears her, but some of his memories get in the way. In another time, Connor knew Faith – He’s pretty sure he did, but sometimes his mind and thoughts blend and contrast. When that happens he tries to focus on what he knew before the change.
He had a family – a younger sister, Jennifer. His aunt lived with them. Her name was Amelia. He remembers vividly about screaming, lost in a department store when he was five. He remembers his mother rushing towards him and his father swooping him up into his arms. The safe image flickers briefly into one of a hell. Black. It was all black, and there were creatures. All sorts. He fought them.
Things become easier with normality. His long-term relationship with Tracy ended when they went to separate colleges, but somehow it seemed right. It wasn’t as if he wasn’t sad to break it off with Tracy, but their journey had ended.
His third year at Stanford, he met Dawn Summers as she was working in the nearby Starbucks. She served him a plain black coffee everyday for two months and wondered why he never picked anything interesting. That’s what Starbucks was for, right? Not just plain regular coffee. She asked him out on a Tuesday, when he left his biology book at his usual table.
He accepted because there was something different about her. She made him feel things that he had never felt before. Wasn’t love, he knew that. He had felt love before. He had loved Tracy. He loved his parents, even the vampire ones that muddled inside his brain. He loved Jennifer's cat Snuggles and cried when she had to be put down. Love was not a new emotion for him. Primal – strong… she made him feel… he couldn’t place it. He thinks that she made him feel like he was like he used to be.
His hand tightens around hers as he parks his car, an environmentally safe Ford Prius, near Stockton's Women's Penitentiary. Dawn exhales loudly and a small tremor runs through her arms and shoulders.
"Are you sure that you want to do this?" Connor asks her again, even though she’s told him about a million times that she needs to do this. Dawn briefly gives him a look that says, ‘Don’t you try to fucking dare change my mind.’ and opens the car door. He clears his throat and pulls her back briefly to kiss her on the cheek. The tough expression on her face melts away and she flashes a smile to him – one that looks so much like Darla’s. He thinks her name was Darla. "If you want me to come in, I can," he tells her.
"Why?" Dawn’s lips curve into a small smirk, "You think I’m gonna go in and become someone’s prison bitch? Just a visit, Connor, or can you not handle that much away time from me?"
A soft, rolling chuckle escapes from his lips. "Yeah, you’re so hot," he retorts with playful sarcasm.
"You forget it you’re gonna die a slow, painful death."
"Oh, I hope so."
"Morbid freak." She’s so close that her breath is on him, creating tiny beads of moisture on his upper lip.
"You’re dating me, what does that make you?"
"Even freakier."
"Are you horny?" he cocks an eyebrow back.
She scowls towards him, "Now I’m dating a ‘Horny Morbid Freak’."
"I didn’t say that I was, you’re the one practically grinding against my leg."
"Shut up."
"Bundle of energy."
Something shifts inside her and her glare becomes darker and more focused towards him. "Fuck you," she states and he bites his lip in order to not give her some macho male ‘You did.’ The look on her face softens and she looks away. "I’m doing this," she insists stubbornly. "Not gonna take this shit.”
She slides out of her seat and grabs an envelope. She then makes her way towards the building. Connor waits inside the car.
Entering inside the building she has to flash some ID and they inspect her for any weapons she might have brought in. They check her purse and her pockets, along with her coat. Some guy named Eddie shows her the way to the waiting room. He seems nice, she thinks.
She sits down in a plastic chair and touches the phone that will allow her to talk with Faith. It’s still warm from its last user. She doesn’t pick it up yet. Steel barred gates open for Faith and she comes into view through the glass directly in front of Dawn. Her wrists are in chains.
Faith pushes up her sleeves with difficulty, the handcuffs hinder her movement. Dawn can see violent red scratches on the insides of Faith’s arms as if she was trying to claw her way out of her skin. The newer ones are deeper and redder. One is still bleeding and stains the blue inmate uniform, turning it purple. Her arms are swollen with needy slices.
As she picks up the phone Dawn gazes towards the dried brown blood under Faith’s nails. She holds the still warm phone against her ear and tries not to be completely grossed out by the greasiness of the previous person’s hair or fingers.
"Didn’t know I had a little sister.”
"Had to say something, Faith," Dawn starts, her voice gentle, "They don’t let just anyone see those on Death Row."
Faith grimaces as if it’s the first time she’s heard the news.
"How are you doing?"
"Best as can be expected on the day you’re gonna die."
Dawn closes her eyes momentarily. "Here I thought you were going to say ‘Five by five’," she says, trying to lighten things.
"No point in lying anymore."
"Think you’re not going to hell if you tell the truth?"
"Nah. My mother was Roman Catholic. I’m going to hell anyway." Faith states honestly, "Was going there a long time ago. Besides, never really looked to anyone as a higher power guiding me. Always thought that I was that higher power myself. Probably means I’m already in Limbo with the repenting non-believers. Not to mention why I’m here in the first place."
Faith’s hands tremble, and the constant shaking is barely noticeable. Dawn sees it; Faith doesn’t want to fucking die. She shouldn’t have come. Seeing this is going to make it harder.
"You tried to kill my sister so many times and now you’re afraid?" Fucking wimp.
Faith’s eyes are sharp and dark as she meets Dawn’s eyes, which are full of light and water and some regret.
"Didn’t say I never was. You made those assumptions," her voice wavers and clogs in her throat.
And it’s true, Dawn did make presumptions; about Faith, about who she actually was. She liked to think that she knew how the other girl felt, but she didn’t.
"Are you sorry?" she asks.
Faith’s face contorts into a disgusted sneer, "What are you playin’ here, Pipsqueak? You’re asking me the questions that you already know the answers to." Her arms rub hard unconsciously against the table in front of her and chips of dried blood and dead skin shed away. Her left arm starts to piss crimson.
"Are you?" Dawn prods, her throat tightening and her voice raising to a higher pitch as she starts to tear at the edges of the envelope she brought.
"Stop. Fucking, stop it." Faith’s stomach churns and rolls like she’s about to vomit.
"No! You stop it. If you’re all so high and powerful then you can do it. You can tell me if you’re freaking sorry. You can tell me, it’s not the end of the world to admit things!" Dawn suppresses the urge to scream at her as prison guards turn to check on them.
Faith moves to hang up the phone, but then Dawn says something.
"Buffy knows."
And she stops rubbing her arms on the table and making herself bleed. She holds the phone back to her ear, "She what?"
"She knows… that you’re being executed."
Thick tears suddenly stream down her cheeks and she tries to take in deep breaths, but the only thing that happens is her breath coming out in coughs, thick hacks. Faith’s chest heaves up and down and a sick look crawls across her face.
"Fuck you," Faith sputters.
"You did," Dawn breathes.
Her body shudders and shakes with each sob, she tries to wipe at her tears, but the handcuffs are making it strenuous.
"Is she coming?"
Regret. Regret. Regret. It stirs inside Dawn.
"I’m here for her."
Faith cries and lets the salt in her tears sting the thick wounds she caused.
"Time’s up." Eddie tells Dawn, covering the girl’s shoulder with his heavy hand.
Dawn settles the phone on the table counter next to the mutilated envelope and even when she pulls away, she can still hear Faith and her lament.
"Execution’ll be at ten sharp. You’ll have to come here a half an hour before," Eddie says.
"Can you make sure she gets that?" Dawn asks, motioning to the letter she left. He nods and she leaves quickly as Faith’s sounds softly fade away.
Her heart pounds in her throat and head as she returns to Connor having fallen asleep in the front seat of the car. The sun floods down on him. He looks dead. The only thing that signals his life is the small snore that he releases as she pushes him to the passenger side and his chest’s gentle rise and fall.
Connor awakes with a nasal like snort of air, "Is it over?" he asks, semi-awake.
"Not yet," Dawn replies.
She puts the car into drive and puts her foot on the pedal, speeding away. They stop at a diner and Connor scarfs his way through a cheeseburger and french fries. He reaches over to Dawn’s plate and nibbles at her food.
"You sure you’re not hungry?" he asks.
"I’m not going to eat before she gets put to death. I don’t know how you can." Dawn looks Connor over judgmentally and shoves her fries towards him.
"I don’t know…" Connor has the faintest feeling that she’s angry with him, "Maybe death makes me hungry."
"So, at my funeral you’re going to raid the buffet."
He can feel a small smile pull his cheeks into a rubber band grin, "There would never be food at your funeral."
She gives a faint forgiving beam of a smile to him in return.
"You wanna bring a bag of popcorn when we go?"
Connor laughs and thinks that he’s falling in love with her, "I think they’d kick me out."
"That was the point." A giggle bubbles through her lips, before she looks into her lap as if it’s wrong to laugh. A part of her is right. She’s having fun here, she has her whole life ahead of her and Faith is preparing for her own death.
Connor cups Dawn’s cheek with his hand and presses his lips tenderly to hers. She kisses him back softly, her lips meeting his. He begins to pull away and threads his fingers in her hair, kissing her temple.
"Things will be okay," Connor promises, though Dawn can’t believe him. Things just wouldn’t be okay. She thought that he knew that too.
When they return to the prison, they sit in a place to view Faith’s death and suddenly Connor feels no longer hungry, though it could be the fact that he ate both his and Dawn’s meals.
Dawn grips tightly at Connor’s hand, cutting off circulation and the only way he can tell is how white the tips of his fingers are right now. He can’t feel her there.
A guard, the same one that check <
"Where do you think we go when we die?"
"I don’t know," Connor says.
"How do you know we go anywhere?"
"I don’t. – Staying here… that would be the worst hell."
Dawn swallows hard.
Faith refuses her last words and as they give her the lethal injection, she mouths something. Strapped down, poison and needles pricking into her scabs and lacerations. Xander meets her eyes briefly, but quickly looks away.
"I’m sorry," Faith says, barely audibly before she begins to convulse. Her eyes roll into the back of her head and Dawn’s not sure if it’s her that she’s talking to.
Dear Faith,
For the longest time in my life, before you went around terrorizing my family, I thought you were the cool thing. You did what you wanted and got what you needed when you needed it, and I thought that I wanted to be like you. Truth is, no one wants to be like you. No one needs the shit that you went through weighing them down. I thought you were free of it, but you weren’t. You let your pain and your anger consume you and that’s the thing that gave you your fire and that’s the thing that’s killing you now.
You always told me to lighten up, ‘cause tomorrow we all might be dead. It’s not my turn yet, I mean, I’ve had times, but I’m planning to live a long and happy life. And I plan to be careful.
I can’t be there when you die; I hope you understand that. You’ve been this massive influence on my life. Good and bad. If anyone else doesn’t know; I know, I know you tried.
I hope at least this way you find peace.
- Buffy
When she goes, she’s gone.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Gotta say, I am amused by the use of the name Amelia for Connor's Aunt's name, given that's the full name of Mike's mom in our RP...it's odd, and seriously on the ironic side of things, given that there's Dawn/Connor in the fic. lol.
And just out of my own curiousity...should we be taking the above quote to mean they actually slept together at some point, or just that Faith more or less messed up a nice little chunk of Dawn's life? 'Cause the more I think about it, the more I realise you could be going for either there. Or possibly both.
All the Dawn/Connor stuff was cute.
Xander being at the exicution was an interesting touch. lol. Yet somehow expected from you.
Overall...almost cried. if headache wasn't killing me so much I probably would have...but I'm still functioning enough to know headaches just get worse when I cry...but yeah, really liked it.
I'd write more, but I think it's time to nibble on some crackers, since I didn't have dinner...and go to bed...
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You know what? My brain didn't even absorb the insanity of using the name Amelia. lol. God, if it was all RP they'd be cousins... and there would be some major hatred. - but... it can never work in the RP... so... good? Okay... my brain is tired and now this whole thing is twisted in my head. lol. (The second part probably will mess with your brain even more. lol)
See. I was thinking about that quote and it really could mean either or both. There's a great piece of me that's the inner femslasher that's going, "BOTH BOTH!" - 'Cause all my shipping parts of my personality love the angst. So, what I'm gonna say for that is, "Take it how you want it." Faith definately has messed up a nice little chunk of Dawn's life either way. We just decide if the 'fucking' was literal.
The Dawn/Connor was my balancing. They are cute, and at times they were almost fluffy, but at the same time they're pretty dark too. This was fun.
Yeah. That was specifically for part two. In my original version of part one he wasn't there. But... stuff in my head happened and.... lookie, there he is.
*hugs* I'm really glad you liked it. Headaches should just... go away for you.
Feel better, sweetie. If you feel up to it later, like tomorrow, I don't mind the feedback. In fact, we both know that I'm a feedback whore. - Or if you want to read part two... or something. lol When I post it.
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I'm glad you like it. And thanks so much for the editting job! I keep forgetting to say that. *hugs you*
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The whole difference in feelings with Dawn, you can really see her (or anyone) feeling like that.
I also loved that Xander was in it, but then again, I wouldn't have expected anything else from you :)
The letter from Buffy was an excellent touch, it finished it off brilliantly.
Well done x
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*hugs you*
lol. Does everyone expect that Xander would be there with the way I write?
Thanks for the feedback, much appreciated.
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And, believe me, I just killed off one of my favorite characters... *sob* ...for storyline purposes. I feel a bit like Joss Whedon. Hee.
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Think you can handle it? >:D
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I love it, and definitely looking forward to reading more of your Dawn/Conner. ;)
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Oh, so touching. *hugs you*
*links you to part 2* (http://www.livejournal.com/users/duckytears/170580.html)
I went a different way with part two, I think... and there will be more done... I just need to poke my muse. :D
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I'm currently working on part three!
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I like :)
good job.
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Anyways. If I weren't drugged it would be possible that I could write better feedback but since I am ... you know, not. You're about to link me to part two and I shall read that.
<3