Oh, "Buffy". You really must be clear about these things.
[ this is so cute, spike's such a mess.
briefly, he thinks to say no, but... once, a year ago, someone told him mortals would write his name upon love charms. and prayers that should have gone to hathor were given to him, instead.
so he writes: ] I cannot force her to love you back, but I can help you all the same.
I was part of a very successful marriage for centuries. We loved each other very much and were the models for more relationships among mortals than the goddess of love herself.
[ eat shit hathor, but also talk about the end of set's marriage pls ]
it lets him turn up, wrapped in a nice evening coat with embroidered scenes of long-tailed pheasants taking flight upon it, wrapped loose around him as he regards spike WITH JUDGMENT. ]
Tsk, look at you. What brought this degree of desperate pining on, anyways?
[ Spike is, in fact, very much on the ground when Set finds him. He's not so sure he'll ever be not on the ground again, with how dizzy he is, so he doesn't even try to sit up, hand still around the neck of a near-empty bottle as he sniffs, ]
[ Where she's alive and has broken your heart. Spike releases his grip on the bottle, watching through blurry eyes as it rolls toward the glowing logs of the fire. ]
She's the Slayer. She kills vampires. I'm a vampire, I kill Slayers.
Got it all...twisted. Somewhere down the line.
But she'll never love me back. 'Cause I don't have a soul.
My, that sounds terribly romantic for both of you. Imagine being so entwined, that you found affection amidst the most primal order to kill one another.
[ The bottle rolls a little further, shunted aside by the edge of Set's foot. He tucks the drape of his night coat into the crook of his elbows, and settles into a graceful heap next to Spike's messy sprawl. What a silly man. ]
What a silly man. [ He laughs. ] You have a soul. It is simply untethered.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
first thing's first: ] Buggy? Do you mean Shanks's blue clown?
Spike, you cannot be under another spell. You have hit your allotment for silly spells.
no subject
love anf hate ehr so miuchd i'd kill the hwole wolr d
no subject
[ this is so cute, spike's such a mess.
briefly, he thinks to say no, but... once, a year ago, someone told him mortals would write his name upon love charms. and prayers that should have gone to hathor were given to him, instead.
so he writes: ] I cannot force her to love you back, but I can help you all the same.
no subject
u can helep??????
[ Set has gained +1 worshiper, assuming Spike remembers any of this in the morning ]
no subject
I was part of a very successful marriage for centuries. We loved each other very much and were the models for more relationships among mortals than the goddess of love herself.
[ eat shit hathor, but also talk about the end of set's marriage pls ]
I will come find you! We will begin forthwith!
no subject
m at fire nera woods
no subject
[ alarming! but? helpful?
it lets him turn up, wrapped in a nice evening coat with embroidered scenes of long-tailed pheasants taking flight upon it, wrapped loose around him as he regards spike WITH JUDGMENT. ]
Tsk, look at you. What brought this degree of desperate pining on, anyways?
no subject
Told you. 's always Buffy.
Should've killed 'er when we first met.
no subject
[ Rude as ever, he extends a foot and nudges at the bottle clutched in Spike's hand. Be done with it, buddy. ]
I can help you. Tell me about her, and you and her. What happened?
no subject
She's the Slayer. She kills vampires. I'm a vampire, I kill Slayers.
Got it all...twisted. Somewhere down the line.
But she'll never love me back. 'Cause I don't have a soul.
no subject
[ The bottle rolls a little further, shunted aside by the edge of Set's foot. He tucks the drape of his night coat into the crook of his elbows, and settles into a graceful heap next to Spike's messy sprawl. What a silly man. ]
What a silly man. [ He laughs. ] You have a soul. It is simply untethered.
no subject
You're not wrong, actually. 'Bout the soul.
Could get it back. Dunno how I'd do it here, but I could--get it back. Put it right. For her.