12586/Who's Who: A lonely Christmas Memory

Who's Who: A lonely Christmas Memory
Date of Scene:	26 December 2020
Location:	Drop Dead Investigations - O.G.
Synopsis:	Buffy encounters another familiar face who helps her discover the source of her amnesia.
Cast of Characters:	Buffy Summers, Deadwatch
Tinyplot:	Who's Who

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Buffy Summers has posed:
Ahh, it's Christmas day, and what a day it's been. Gotham has been snowing, mostly, and the skies were overcast for most of the day. Bludhaven, which is not far from Gotham experienced some similar weather.

It made it easier for the vampires to lurk about, not even caring about a sacred day such as this. But not all vampires are evil, at least this particular one is starting to have second thoughts about her career..

She had been wandering about Bludhaven over the last several days, and eventually something had pulled her into Gotham as well, although she wasn't even sure what it was, exactly. It was like a memory, tugging at the edge of her mind, always in the periphery, then flitting away the moment she tried to pursue it.

A flash of a sign that read 'Drop Dead Investigations'. A business card that that other blonde woman had dropped that shared the same name. A face of a young but tired looking man with a limp. And then she suddenly found herself breaking into a more anxious jog as sunlight suddenly broke through the clouds.

She needed a safe haven, and quickly. Reaching the place, she knocks anxiously on the door. "Hello?"

Deadwatch has posed:
As the old saw goes, 'It ain't a fit night (or day) out for man or beast'. A sudden flurry, bordering on a blizzard, has moved into Gotham this Christmas Day shutting down what little was still open and keeping people inside with their friends or families to enjoy the holday. The snow and the wind insulating them from the usual Gothamy nonsense. Even the bad guys seems to be staying in.

Alas. Nolan has neither family or friends. At least no living ones. His usual retinue of ghostly companions, his 'posse' are gone for the evening; Back to their original haunts or watching over the families as some ghosts do.. Only one remains. The 19th century scullery maid Anyanka who sits in a corner sewing something out of threads of aether and ectoplasmic threads, every one in a whilee looking up and at her 'charge', Nolan, giving him worried glances.

The basement suite is warm and almost rosy, the lamplight and cheap strings of LEDS providing SOME holiday cheer. Not that Nolan put them up. He isn't ure WHO did it, really, but bets it was those damned faeries. HE sits in an old, beat up, reclcining chair, a tumbler of burbon in his good hand, and a bottle set on the small tab;e beside him. His bad leg is up on a small stool.

The old ghetto blaster is playing behind him.. Mumford & Son's 'Ghosts that we knew.", a bit of a break from his usual rock and punk.

When the knock comes at the door, Nolan frowns and looks at the big metal door. He is about to ignore it, pretend that no one is there, but Anyanka suddenly stands and floats to the Door... and the locks open by themselves and the door opens on it's own accord..

"Anyanka?" Nolan says, suddenly sitting straighter. "What are you doing?!?"

Buffy Summers has posed:
In steps..Well, she doesnt *look* like a familiar face, and in fact, she looks like a stereotypical blonde bimbo, the type you might see on supermodel magazines, all airbrushed and way too tall and too skinny and too busty.

Even her attire leaves much to be envied, sporting black leather pants, a short pink and white floral halter top that leaves her stomach mostly bared. And a short denim jacket that could hardly keep anyone warm in this weather.

Odd though, that her breath doesn't even show in the cold winter air, nor does she seem to be particularly cold. In fact, she seems more wary of the sunlight outside, than the cold weather.

Whatever the case, the young woman is quite relieved to find a safe haven, although she doesn't exactly notice the ghost, finding the door pushes open on its own. And better yet, she is able to come in without an invitation. Odd..

"Hello? Is anyone in here?" she peers around.

Deadwatch has posed:
As an answer, Anyanka The Ghost floats back as the door opens and even though Buffy cannot see her, she continues flooting rearward until she passes through the wall. Ouyt of sight of even Nolan. The look on her face is mayhps a bit mischevious as she dissapears.

Before Nolan can even BEGIN to figure out what is going on, the rather staturesque Blonde bimbo in leather appears in his doorway and the psychic with the crippled leg blinks. "Uhm... Ooookay. I'm pretty sure I would remember if I ordered a stripper. And if someone else sent you I dunno how to thank them.." he sort of drawls, confused and maybe a litle amused, but thats when his Darksight focusesand he suddenly pushes himself up and stands. "Okay, Vampy.. I thought your type would be taking a day off today." he says as black energy starts to dance among his fingertips.. But then his Darksight focuses even more and he realizes this vampire had a SOUL... Which is RARE. And this one is a FAMILIAR soul.

"Jesus Christ, what the fuck happened to /you/ Buffy?"

Buffy Summers has posed:
She hovers on the landing for a few moments, freezing as she sees that this place is not vacant. Of course not. There's a guy here, a vaguely familiar guy although she can't quite place his name, or the memory attached to it.

And the energ crackling on his finger tips snaps her attention back to the here and now. She frowns softly, holding out her hands as if in surrender. "Hold on a sec, I'm not here to cause trouble, I just..."

Oh. There's that name again. She frowns softly, confused. "Buffy. That's what he called me too. Why? I don't get it.." The woman sighs softly, rubbing her head. And if Nolan looks closely, he will realize that her soul is not the only thing in the wrong place..

There it is, around her head..Numerous tiny demonic entities, invisible to the naked eye, preying on her memories..Could that be why..?

Deadwatch has posed:
Well Holy crap.. This is new. Buffy is somehow possessing a vampire's body.. It can't be voluntary, can it? Like, it's not an ability she herself posseses, like him... and something is FEEDING of the possessor.. And he makes a face as he recognizes the creepy little spectral bastard. He's seen them before.

"He? Well whoever /he/ is, he called you buffy because that is your name." he tells her, slowly. The dark energ stops sparking and begins coalescing slowly in his palms, pooling like black ooze, wet looking yet not. "And you came here because you felt this place was safe.." he finishes for her. "Trust me, I get that. You.. well.. Your soul has been here before.. and your spirit remembers it if your mind doesn't." he explains. "If you trust me, even if you don't know why, then please come in and close the door behind you."

Buffy Summers has posed:
Buffy Summers blinks slowly, nodding thoughtfully at his words. "Um, some guy named Thomas. Who apparently knows me. Or her or..I dunno.." she sighs, rubbing her temples. "To be honest, it's been a confusing week. I mean, I *thought* I was a vampire named Tiffany, but..Apparently I can't bring myself to feed on any humans, and recently I turned against my vamp friends and dusted them all with this.."

She pulls out a wooden stake, made from a tree branch. Not fashionned as well as her usual stakes, but it worked in a pinch. The way she flips and twists it playfully in her hand suggests she is somehow quite adept at using them, without even understanding how, or why.

Still, he offers safe haven, and she nods and smiles, stepping in. "Thank you. I think I trust you, although I'm not sure why. You've obviously met this..Buffy before, I presume?"

Deadwatch has posed:
Okay, a smirk does form on Nolan's lips. "Tiffany.." he repeats, true amusement in his voice. "Of course you are."

Then he stares at the presented tree branch, and the WAY which it is presented, and nods slowly. "Yep, and Buffy too." he says with a resigned sigh. "This is the oddest chgristmas predsent I've ever got." he mutters and motions her to the venter of the large throw rug with it's cushions. "Well Miss.. uhm.. Tuffy. Biffiany? THe fact is you are, at the momnent, BOTH Buffy and Tiffany, yet neither of you remember yourselves or the other." he lowers himself down onto oe of the cushions. "Which should alsnwer if I've met Buffy before. SHe's an.. aquainatce of mine. Nice girl, The Tiffany side will probably be pissed, or wet her pants, when she finds out who she's sharing hooters with but whatchya gonna do, Amiright?"

Buffy Summers has posed:
Buffy Summers sighs, and shrugs, "Well, i'd hardly call it a Christmas present at all. AT least not for me." she nods though, relieved for a chance to rest, and a safe haven and she settles on one of the cushions with a tired sigh.

"So..How do you know all this anyway? Your card said you're a..Psychic investigator? Or something? You think you can help me..Figure out whatever is going on?"

Deadwatch has posed:
Ugh, sitting crosslegged sucks. His legbrace allows it, of course, but it isn't comfortable and the usual amount of pain he lives with on a constant basis goes up a notch or two. And the constant pain level he lives with is at least a 6, so..

But, he wants toe put Buffarella here at ease.. and mages and psychic (of which he is, sadly, both) tend to sit around like they practice Yoga.. The ratty bastard.

"Well if you /had/ been a stripper, I'm sure my christmas would've been MUCH much brighter." he says with a snort. "Too bad thats not the way my luck runs. So, as to how I know all 'this'... Well, the card doesn't lie. I /am/ a psychic investigator. And how that works is, believe it or not, I /am/ a psychic. I know what evil lurks in the hearts of men. I see dead people.. I stand between this world and the next!.." he says all this with mock Vincent price-like drama, then shrugs it off. "And... yadda yadda yadda. Anyways, simplified, I deal with The Dead, Ghosts, spirits, demons, angels... all kinds of other etheral energies and beings. Vampires sorta fall in there because, you know, the whole dead thing. And I'm effective at what I do is I /see/ these 'things' like you see everyday life. And right know I see Tiffany's bodacious bod, which by the way makes me wonder how she still has those implants after becoming a vampire and if they provide any protection from stabbity-stabbities, and Buffy's Soul-Self WEARING Tiffany like a Barbarella costume. And, some nasty lil critters feeding on /both/ your memories."

Which is why I had you sit right here, with me, on the nice rug. To keep you contained..." he says and presses his DARK filled hands against the rug beneath them.

The fabric's colour dulls, and then blow away like ash.. and the ash itself becomes smoke and vanishes.. revealing an intricate magic circle etched deeply into the concrete floor. The black ectoplasm pours like blood from his hands and fill the etched circle and there is a dark flash as a threshold like shield encircles them both.

"And /Not/ just so I could enjoy the your busom bouncing while you sat."

Buffy Summers has posed:
Buffy Summers smiles a little, clearly amused by his antics. "I mean, being a vamp and all, I can hardly say I dont believe in psychics. Or ghosts for that matter. But.." she frowns, "So you're saying I really DID swap bodies with this other girl then? How do I get it back? And..And my memories? Something's wrong there too, right?"

She blinks at the ash and the magic circle, tensing, "Wait, what are you doing?"

Deadwatch has posed:
Sitting a few feet across from the vamp/vamp slayer, facing her directly, Nolan's mismatched eyes start to 'bleed'. From the top down, the schlera fills with that oily darkness until both eyes are solidly black. His Darksight, always running non-stop, intensifies and the real world fades from it's half-there quality to nothing. Only The Dark, that shadow world, remains. Roiling around them like some dark stormy version of reality. Think.. when Frodo puts on the one ring. Thats what everything turns to.

"Yes. Somehow you were swapped around. with enough left over that each of you have some.. identity issues from the echoes of the other." he informs her as he brings his hands up in front of him. He starts making arcane gesture, his breathing changing. Like Doctor Strange or Constantine, a matrice of mystic energy appears around his hands, circles and symbols and glyphs. But unlike theirs, glowing with white or golden energies, his are.. They aren't black. They are the opposite of light. black-light?

"Since I don't know the exact method, I can't just undo it with a simple ritual or a single process.. and I would need to get rid of the little memory eater bastards anyways. And thats a whole can of worms in and of itself. It requires a major exorcism usually. I can do those but They are a pain in the ass, time and resource consuming, and very loud on the spiritual plane so.."

Fingers start making new glyphs and symbols in the air, and then he reaches out and a tendril of Dark lashes out from each digit and skewer each of the critters.. They squeel, in their demon way, but they are lodged deep in the memories.. anchored. But that is fine. "I'm gonna cheat. These things take memories they eat to their queen, in hopes of earning her affections. So I'm going to add some of my own memories to their bellies. And when they are full they will disconnect, like leeches. And then they will head off to the queen. And when she rejects them they will bring them all back. And while they are gone, I will inoculation you against any more infection from them.."

Buffy Summers has posed:
She watches, eyes wide - not in horror or fear, but more..Curiosity, fascination, even though she should know better. Buffy has never been a particularly gifted witch, although Tiffany had some magical talent.

"Memory eaters, huh? I guess they found my memories..Tasty?" she shivers at the thought. Not exactly a good thing.

"Soo, they're like..Magical leeches? How'd those things get in my head in the first place? Did someone put them there? How long will it take for me to get my memories back.?"

Deadwatch has posed:
Those fingers flex and bend and twist.. one of the hands seemingly requiring more effort to be manipulated than the other.. THOSE fingers are heavily scarred, like some grevious injury had befallen them. She can see the pain in his face as he moves them, but he doesn't stop. It is like a cross between puppeteering and sculpting.

"Tasty is a good word.." he says... not really looking at her. More like THROUGH her. "They like SPECIAL memories, preferably ones that are pleasant to you. The more you suffer from the loss of those memories, the better they taste." he explains..

And then he stiffens, and lets out a moan. "Okay.. made the connection.. and he focuses on his own memories and.. pushes. Like a flow, he relives scenes from his past. Small terrible moments over his life.. from being a child in the terrible gotham foster system to living on the streets as a cripple.. as a junkie.. And then scenes from being in prison. Tiny parts of all the beatings, the humiliations, and even worse things he has experienced in his lifetime.

Oh, and he is smart about it. He doesn't cut his whole memories, but instead uses clips.. like a montage. So that while the memories are gone *for now) they aren't FULLY gone.. SO he won't lose context. A master editor.

ANd shee can feel them. see them, relive the bits.. the terrible depridations he has suffered. at least a small bit of them. And when the critters get fuyll they shudder and *pop* off.. shivering as they jump into the darkness of the otherealm...

And Nolan shudders and drops his hands.. panting and eyes. "Okay.. thats that.." he grunts.. "It could take a while until they come back. Few days.. a week maybe.." he says as he finally looks up and drops the circle. "They will come back like.. Deja Vu. Sadly I can't tell who sent them. Maybe when they come back to return the memories.. BEcause someone would have had to have summoned the queen And the drones will have her latest 'vibe' which I can maybe try and use to figure out who hired her."

Buffy Summers has posed:
She frowns a bit as she eyes the scars on his fingers. Probably wondering where he got them, but too polite to ask. Besides, he's probably busy with the current issue at hand.

"Special memories huh. Like remembering important people in my life.." She sighs, wondering what other special memories might have been stolen.

And then there are HIS memories, invading her mind, and she shivers as she feels them. Dammit, this poor man. "Geez, that's..That's terrible. What you went through. I'm sorry.."
But that must have taken its toll on him. Buffy frowns as she watches him with some concern. "Thank you, I think? Are you gonna be okay though..?"

Deadwatch has posed:
Yeah, even those clips of his memories gave enough context to tell him his leg and his hand have always been the way they are. And that he ha sliterally not known a day of no pain at all. Even before prison when he was a junkie, though it was hard to tell if it was the physical pain, the pain of all the spirits and ghosts, or the combination of various abuses that forced him into extreme self medication.

The dark ectoplasma (not ectoplasm, ectoPLASMA) seeps from his eyes like black tears which he wipes away with a Big Belly Burger napkin and he shrugs. "Exactly like the memories of important people in your life." he tells her. "It's teh connections we make that these little assholes uyse to find their NEXT feeding ground."

His face mostly clean he looks at the Vampric Bimbo and it's Vamp Slayer controller and... well.. he looks away again. "You don't need to be sorry." he says, maybe a BIT gruffly. "We all have our dark times. We all have our scars. I'm no differant or deserving then anyone else." he says with the conviction of a man who believes it because he BEAT himself into believeing it.

Buffy Summers has posed:
Her frown just deepens a bit at that, as she does gain some insight into his life. How very sad. She can't help but not feel sorry for him, and not necessarilly in a pitying kind of way, because she's pretty sure he wouldn't want that, but..

"Can't help it, I hate to see people in pain, people suffering. You deserve so much better than that." she leans over, resting a hand lightly on his shoulder. Only for a brief moment, not wanting to make him feel uncomfortable if he's not the touchy-feely sort.

"But, I suppose you're right, we all have our crosses to bear, some more than others. All the same, I guess I owe you one."

Buffy sighs, glancing out the window. "Well, looks like night has finally fallen and the sun's gone down. I..Should get going, and maybe look up this Thomas guy. Said he could help me, seemed to know a bit more about what was going on, and apparently he's got her...Me? Back at the Blue Lady. So.."

She rises slowly to her feet. "Thank you, Nolan. I'm sure we'll meet again..?"

Deadwatch has posed:
Yeah.. He /isn't/ the most touchy feely of people. She SORT of knows that. But it's more obvious by the way he DOESN"T pull back when she touches his shoulder. Because tht vampire part of her KNOWS he wants to pull away. But yet he doesn't... He endures it. For her. Because it's not her fault he's the wy she is.

"Wel all do. Even Tiffany there deserved more thn she got. I hope that when things go back to normal.. That she has SOME of your memories.. To help her realize that she can fight what she is. " he says, though part of him knows that it probably won't help or happen but..

He looks to the door, and shakes his head as the locks begin unlocking again. Anyanka. Yeesh.

"Yeah, you better get back. If you stay close to your body, it will be easier for you to transfer back. You still have my card. That has my number. Call or thave this Thomas dude call me if you need help." he tells her as he turns back to face her.

"Look at it this way, Kid. Even if you die, I'll still see ya." he says with a smirk. "I'll make sure your voice is heard. Be safe. Hell, you BOTH be safe." that remartk for the lil bit of tiffany that may residestill in her.. them.. Gah, freakin posessions mindswaps!

Buffy Summers has posed:
Buffy Summers smiles and nods. "Right. I guess no one really chooses to be a vampire. Not if they know what it's really about. It's probably not the life I'd want to live if I can help it..Just hope I can figure things out soon." she heads for the door, but pauses briefly, and smiles, "Well, I suppose that's always true...Merry Christmas, Nolan." And with that, she's gone again.