simplestgift | Four Bells: [Voice] Somewhat Unwell

Philosophical truth? [He grins.] What does that mean?

Um. [ saying anything at all was an impulse, and dawn shrugs helplessly. how do you explain 'oh, and then monks made me so all my memories before i was fourteen are fake' to someone without saying the actual words? ] So, my world's all magic-y, right? Well. Me as a kid is... I mean. Memories are real because you believe them, and they're subjective anyway so if a bunch of people remember something, it becomes the truth in a more philosophical way.

[ hopefully archie can read between the babble lines, because he's actually the first person she's told herself about this, and it's not the easiest thing ever. ]

[He watches her carefully, his fevered brain trying to piece it together.] You remember things that didn't happen?

[He doesn't make the leap to "artificially created," of course, but he gets what she's hinting at. It sounds like madness, but he can hardly leap to conclusions about that sort of thing. He's seen things that don't exist, and isn't mad (anymore), so why couldn't she remember things that didn't happen? Wait, she said a lot of people remembered...and now he looks confused.]

[ she nods, still fiddling with her hem. ] Like... fourteen years of things. It's complicated and I should probably explain when you're not all grody and sick.

[ right, looking at the person you're talking to. dawn looks up and offers a tiny smile. ] Sorry, I've never actually told anyone this myself. People either already knew or I didn't talk about it, so... it's a little weird.

Fourteen years? On top of your other memories? [She can't bring this up and then just let it go.]

I don't actually have any other memories. Just those ones. [ and now back to the fiddling. ]

[He sits up, propping himself up on his elbows.] What happened to your real memories?

[ she shakes her head. ] That's why I said a looser definition. Those are the only ones I have because they're the only ones that actually exist.

[He...has no idea what to do with that. Fourteen years of fake memories.] What...what happened? If-if I may ask.

[He is not assuming the fourteen years were the first ones of her life. He tries very hard to assume nothing, whenever he can, even if he does so anyway.]

You can, I wouldn't have said anything if it wasn't okay to ask. Just, um. This is... kind of a secret, kind of not. Especially with the timeline thing, Glory-- [ she breaks off, looking a little sick. glory could show up, and all of a sudden warren seems so much less scary. ] It's not something a lot of people know. So... welcome to the club, I guess.

[ right, enough stalling. ] Long story made very short? I was kind of... made. Out of magic.

[Made out of magic. Then she's not real? But when he took her hand the other night, there was the very tangible slide of skin over breakable bone. She's clearly flesh and blood, however she got to be that way. Was she lying? He always disliked assuming people to be liars. She could be lying, though, to try to seem more special, but he's already accepted Buffy's insane story, hasn't he? More or less, anyway. Without passing judgment either way, he nods for her to go on.]

Right, okay. Short story not filled with enough expository goodness. Um...

[ she picks at a cuticle, then sighs. ] This is going to get even more crazy really fast but my sister can bend a gun barrel in half so... you know, it's less unbelievable than that. Sometimes.

So, okay. Storytime. [ it should be easier to tell it like a story, right? ] Basically, there were these monks. And the monks needed to protect a Key, which was this apparently glowy ancient power. Someone really, really really dangerous wanted the Key, so they decided to give it to the Slayer-- [ she pauses, looks up. ] That would be Buffy, for the record. Anyway, they gave it to the Slayer to protect.

Anyway, they wanted to make sure she would do anything to take care of the Key, so they made it into a person. A little sister shaped person, to be specific. And then they made memories for everyone, so that they'd think the Key had always been there, and wasn't a Key, so Gl-- [ she almost chokes on the name, but swallows and continues. ] So Glory, the thing that wanted to use the Key wouldn't be able to tell something new had arrived. And, you know. So that the Slayer wouldn't just hand the Key over.

...That's kind of it. Minus the more horrifying parts and I'm just going to silently freak out a little because now you're totally going to think I'm a crazy liar, aren't you?

Edited 2011-02-10 01:12 (UTC)

[His eyes are wide by the end, and the words come out of his mouth before he can think about it.]

What does the Key open?

Opened. Past tense, it doesn't-- I mean, I don't work anymore, we don't think. There was this timing thing, and ritual... it was complicated but either way, we're pretty sure I'm all Key'd out.

[ what the key used to be able to open is something of a source of anxiety, for values of something equaling a lot. being a key in a place that's a giant lock? not exactly the most comfortable position.

also way to not actually answer archie's question, littlest summers. ]

[Archie watches her while she speaks, then turns his head to stare at the ceiling, clearly a bit troubled by the amount of information he's having to process. He'll have to get Buffy's point of view on this at some point. After a moment, he looks back at her.]

And that's a true story about Dawn Summers. [He doesn't sound sarcastic, just overwhelmed.]

I buy too many shoes with heels high enough they're officially classified as impractical.

[ she tries for a smile, and nearly makes it. ] That's a true story about me, too. The Key thing is just-- it's what I was before I was me. Now I'm... just me.

[Ceiling. Dawn. Ceiling. Dawn. He finally takes a deep, deep breath.] Just a flesh-and-blood woman, now? You won't vanish suddenly in a brilliant blaze of...of glowing light?

[ and dawn releases a breath she didn't realize she was holding. ] Poetic, but nope. Not even if I wanted to. Which, for the record: I don't.

[That makes him breathe out with a smile.] That's good. [He looks up at the ceiling again, then back to her, realizing that seeing her helps him hammer down the fact that she's as real as he is. This is one heck of a "true story."]

And I'm the first person you've told?

I kind of like being tangible and human, thanks. Not that I remember being anything else, it just seems like it would be boring.

[ she nods, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. ] It was this giant secret for a while, and then everyone around me knew and none of us really felt like discussing it. Then when I got to college... [ she shrugs. ] I mean, even with the people who knew about the Slayer stuff it just never really was something I felt like telling people.

[But she felt like telling him? He feels honored. He has secrets everyone knows, too--at least, ones everyone knew back home. But he'd only ever really told one person about them. Telling anyone else would have been dangerous. He wonders if being manufactured is how she got to be so lovely, but he has enough sense not to wonder it out loud. Instead, he chews over the fact that he now owes her an Important Fact about himself. He can't exactly drag a story like that out of her and expect to exchange for it a story about a girl from Falmouth, can he?]

I...I'm afraid I don't have any stories quite like that one, Dawn. No magic in my life. I must be dreadfully boring to you. [It's spoken playfully, but with a touch of self-deprecation.]

[ dawn looks up again, then rolls her eyes and reaches out to poke archie gently in the shoulder. she knows that tone all too well. ] I would have done that harder, but you're sick so you get a pass just this once.

[ one more poke, just because. ] You're not boring, dreadfully or otherwise. Seriously, don't think I won't poke a sick person repeatedly. I'm full of unfathomable depths and some of them involve cruelty to the bedridden.

[That gets a chuckle.] Then I shall mind my tongue.

[Her poking him only reinforces that she's flesh and bone. Now, a long sigh.] You asked for a true story about Archie Kennedy?

[ one more poke because it's an excuse to be a little bit closer-- dawn's aware she's pathetic, sigh-- and then she shifts back in her chair again, nodding victoriously. ] Good, because I learned poking from Buffy Summers and she's vicious.

Only if Archie Kennedy feels like it. [ the smile fades in favor of a serious expression. ] I didn't tell you about me because I wanted a serious story in return. I told you because I wanted to. And because I trust you. Friends generally don't expect exact returns just because.

But you're owed one. [A slight pause.] And I do want to. [Because he does trust her, and would rather she find out from him than, say, a drunken Jack Sparrow.]

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