[open/closed]

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Who: Faith Lehane, Lydia Martin, open to all!
Where: Library
When: 04-Aug
Rating: PG+ (language)
Summary: Faith Lehane arrives by destroying 3 stacks of books in the library
The Story:

i came in like a wrecking ball (closed: lydia martin)

Faith would swear the library is where people go to nap in vacuum-sealed silence. Bring a pillow, find a corner -- it's good in a pinch when you've got nowhere else to go. As long as you're clean and not smattered with blood.

Or flying through the air.

Into one of the impossibly tall stacks. Why do they even position the shelves like this? Now Faith has to fight to stop the entire row from Domino-ing all the way down. The second stack starts to go down and she's only just getting up from where she landed after thudding into the first one.

"Four!" OK probably not the best thing to shout but it's all that comes to mind as Faith tries to at least warn whoever might be in those rows. She's already in the air again, arcing up and over the still-falling shelves. When she hits the ground, it's just as the third stack kisses the fourth, sending it teetering precariously. She holds her breath, hoping for the best and expecting the worst.

But the fourth stack stays upright, allowing Faith to re-position the one she's holding. Well, at least the books didn't get crushed. Finally, she blinks, swiveling her head back and forth. This is not London. This is definitely not an alleyway. And her friends are also not present. So, uh.

"Where the hell am I?"

don't you ever say she just walked away (open to all)

Most of her first hours in Wonderland have seen Faith re-shelving books. She's done the whole alternate dimension routine and hopped through a portal or two, so really it's not worth it to make a whole big deal out of the event. Well, aside from the whole actual Wonderland detail. She'd have been happier winding up in a universe of shrimp than have to deal with queens and rabbits or whatever.

"These aren't even alphabetical," she grumbles. Seriously, who organizes this stuff? Why does she have to keep referencing a number?

She's less than gentle, taking only enough care not to damage a paperback or jam one of the hardcovers. Reading them? No. Not that Faith can't get down with some research but it needs to apply to something and the only thing she cares about now is getting home.

If a book is going to tell her how to get home, she knows damn well she's not Fred Burkle levels of smart enough to make it work. So, re-shelving. And lots of scowling.

Maybe it's a little bit denial, but she's not ready to check out the digs yet. Just because they got a room waiting for her doesn't mean she's just jumping right in to get all domestic on it. Until she finds out about the food. Girl could devour a hoagie right about now...

Comments

[thebetterone]

The library is an interesting place, if for no other reason except that it sometimes moves. That was her first reason for checking it out. Once she'd started hearing about books that told people's life stories? It was infinitely more exciting. Still, that doesn't mean she spends all her time in the library like some people, but she does come and go a bit and was reading when she heard the crash from the otherside. She waits, making sure she's not putting herself in danger (and waits to hear if someone's crying?) but then it sounds like someone else has come to help the person so it's back to reading until it quiets down.

As Kate is heading out, she stops past the general locale of the commotion and sees Faith re-shelving books. She offers her a smile and then bends down to pick up one of the books to help put it back. A peace/welcome offering.

"Hey, are you alright? I thought I heard something earlier."

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Faith nods at first, wordlessly acknowledging Kate's help (and leaving it at that if Kate decides).

Then she laughs at the question. It's a rueful but mostly pleasant sound and gives Faith away as a smoker almost immediately. She waits a moment before answering, lips pursing as she contemplates whether to be straight or not. Really, it's hardly a question.

"Believe me if I say I'd rather slam into four more bookshelves than be doing this?" The grin remains, and she waggles the books she's holding in the air. This, as in playing librarian. Physically she doesn't look too bad -- it's obvious she'd been rough housing, at most.

[thebetterone]

Kate laughs a little at Faith's comment. It is pretty clear, at least, so that makes her offer to help that much better. "Then it'll go faster with the two of us." She shelves the book and picks up a couple more - a real offer with follow through and everything.

"Are you new here? I don't think I've seen you around before. And with an entrance like that...you're pretty hard to forget."

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"Just dropped in, literally." Faith gestures to the mess proudly. Once upon a time sure, she liked making an entrance. Right now it just feels silly.

"Got most of the rundown from a redhead uhh-- Lydia. Girl was pissed, and you might wanna ditch if you see her coming." But she can't help a bit of a smile. Pushovers were boring, and Lydia had so not been that. Plus, it makes the slayer love of hyperbole easy. "Figured I'd better help or she'd level the rest of the place."

[thebetterone]

"Wonderland really pick a great spot to drop you off," Kate laughs, but at least it's not the worst thing that could've been, "Congratulations on not landing in the ocean?" She nods to the rest of her statement, "Got it. We'll have it picked up in no time and you'll be safe."

[lifeskills]

Victor very much appreciates the library being back in one location again. When he has free time and a care to spend it in quiet contemplation, the library is often one of the first stops on his list--as it is today.

He misses the initial devastation Faith causes, but arriving to see someone putting books back on shelves that have spat up their contents, the doctor doesn't fail to notice the after-effects. What's happened here...? He narrows his eyes at the woman, making already serious-looking features seem positively grim.

And she certainly isn't Evelyn.

"Some of those volumes are fragile."

Ahem, he can't very well ignore the blatant mistreatment of books happening right in front of him. They're innocent. Not to mention, often more helpful and engaging than actual people.

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Wow, OK. If Faith wasn't used to getting that feeling from vampires, she'd sure as hell wager this guy was a blood drinker. He looks gaunt enough that she stills for a second to feel him out.

She moves through the assumption quickly, but remains mid-motion as she processes how to deal with his sharp look. The book in her hand hangs in the air halfway to its (probably incorrect) mark on the shelf.

"Uh." Ooh, very eloquent. She's suddenly washed over with memory of another bookworm who liked to tut at her for dog-earing ancient tomes and breaking the spines of newer collections. The corner of her mouth twitches up before she processes an actual response. "Right, yeah. Sorry. I uh, I just got here. Kinda got thrown on them, not really my choice. Take it up with the overgrown Smurf that did the throwing."

[lifeskills]

Although he's made a study of them and even killed some, of all the things Victor is, a vampire isn't one of them. An occasional night owl? Yes. Pasty-faced to a fault? Yes. Kind of creepy? Also yes. At the moment, he hasn't yet ventured into dining on human blood, however.

The day is still young.

He tilts his head slightly, appraising her in return. He doesn't get the impression she's a part of the supernatural community, but probably is someone from a different time and place, judging by how far removed she is from the typical 1890s kind of woman.

"'Thrown on them'?" Victor's not sure what he should be picturing.

She could try explaining what an overgrown Smurf is, but considering this is one English bookworm who'd been born long before the invention of the modern television, she may have her work cut out for her.

As to the books themselves... "Either way, there are plenty of other things to take your frustrations out on besides the books," he points out. "I can promise they had nothing to do with bringing you here."

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That makes her chew on her lip a moment, tossing words around in her head. Victor seems like exactly the type of person she likes to get a rise out of, but she's a little bit off her game considering the dimension-hopping and all. She's definitely antsy, and having someone zero in on the fact that she can't get a hold of it only seems to exacerbate it.

"Illyria didn't exactly follow me through, and I'm helping Red get this all back in order since it's technically my fault." She moves to her next question without a breath: "What, are you a librarian or something?"

Also she has a bad habit of throwing names around like everyone knows what she's talking about.

[lifeskills]

Victor is starting to see her aversion to giving context for himself. A genius he may be, but he's not a mind reader, and what she says holds little meaning for him; his expression stays appraising, brow furrowed, clearly not comprehending. Follow her through? Follow her through what, a portal? They'd have plenty of those lingering about, but none recently that he knows of.

He moves to rescue the most delicate-looking book from her pile before she can get to it, trading a question for a question. "By "just got here," you mean to the library, or... however you'd like to put it. This reality? This world?"

If she's recently arrived to Wonderland, that could explain some things.

After he asks this, he gives an answer. "Not in the slightest, I just have an appreciation for them." He slides his book into its proper place, treating it a little more gently and carefully. "And I also couldn't help but notice this place looks like a mess. Now I know how that happened."

[donotcallmethis]

Helena has explored some things, but the library has not been one of them yet. But now she thinks she should to the babies, even if they perhaps cannot even understand her words.

(They're frozen embryos, they hear nothing, but it gives her something to do.)

So, as she holds a book called The Big, Green, Pocketbook, she watches the angry woman with an interested gaze, tilting her head to the side.

"Are you angry at the books?" Helena asks, Ukrainian accent thick and hair just as wild as it ever is as she peeks around a corner.

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Faith grunts before shoving another upside-down volume where it shouldn't fit.

"Turns out books hurt as bad as a lot of other things if you use 'em right." When she turns to put a face to that dripping-heavy accent, all she sees is hair. Damn girl. The 80's called.

But Faith shrugs, grabbing two more from the floor. A wry grin spreads across her face as she amends her statement: "But I'd still take another dive into the shelves if it meant not having to clean up."

[donotcallmethis]

Yes, yes, her hair is a mess but then again, so is she, so it all works out.

And she makes a quick assessment about Faith, too.

"You are fighter?"

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Oh. That's actually refreshing. Faith gives a solid nod.

"Never got a choice otherwise." She blinks. "You?"

[donotcallmethis]

"No choice," she replies with interest, eying Faith with a little more interest now, coming further around the corner.

"I am Helena. I have not been here long, maybe...few weeks."

[intelligently]

Lydia had taken the book with her to the library. The Dread Doctors. She didn't know what about the book was making it seem so damn familiar or why it was important - other than what Malia had mentioned - but it was definitely bugging her.

She hadn't opened it yet, wanting to check Wonderland's resources first. With the amount of books shelved in the library, and the amount that came from different worlds, maybe there would be some other literature on the Dread Doctors. If Malia was right they had at least earned their name - they weren't the kind of doctors that you wanted to see.

Lydia had been perusing the stacks when she had heard the first crash. It made her look up, one book in hand that she'd been about to read the back of when she quickly heard the next. Moving to the end of her stack it didn't take her long to find out what was going on - and to move even quicker to get out of the way.

When the stacks finally finished falling Lydia turned to look at the first - the one that had started the whole thing. She heard the voice before her eyes had managed to get that far, a very unpleasant expression crossing her features. So much for her afternoon of reading, now she'd have to clean up this mess - and that girl was helping.

"You're in Wonderland." It's bitterly spat at her, Lydia frustration at the mess evident as she marched over to her. "Do you just not like libraries or did you need that much attention for your answer?"

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She barks out a laugh at Lydia's answer, and rolls her eyes because yeah ha ha ha Wonderland. That's hilarious.

Faith rolls quickly through what could have logically happened. Clearly some portal shenanigans happened, but considering Lydia's lack of accent it was probably further than London which Faith didn't think Illyria could pull off these days. Shit, she needed to get back to Angel.

"Library? What library?" Faith shakes her head, and steps back from the now replaced shelves. Two down, one up? Not terrible odds. When Faith turns fulls to Lydia, she's got to dust herself off and wipes a little blood from her chin. Fortunately Illyria hadn't been interested in trying to break Faith's face so much as just ... toss her out of the way.

Faith holds her hands up before clarifying: "What city?"

[intelligently]

At the 'what library' question Lydia gives her a pointed look before moving a hand to gesture to all of the books and stacks around them. Really? What library? Sure the woman was obviously new but she had eyes, she could figure that part out.

"There is no city." There's no lack of irritation in her voice, Lydia taking a few steps closer to at least put her book down on the nearest table to them.

"It's Wonderland. Mansion, grounds, beach. No cities." Also none of the usual things that the word Wonderland conjured up, at least not on a regular basis too - and that was all for the better. Who wanted that every day?

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"OK let's start over. I know you're screwing with me because Wonderland is from a movie and is fake." She meant book, really. Faith totally knows that it's a book. Honest.

Her arms cross over her chest, and she looks Lydia up and down, trying to gauge just how malicious this screwing-with actually is. She's dealt with plenty of attitude in her day, and even though she's only a few years older than Lydia, she's right at home acting generations beyond the girl.

But she looks breakable in the human way, so Faith curbs her initial instinct to start threatening with violence. Instead, she grips her fists tighter, releasing the tension back into herself. She really doesn't have time for shenanigans.

[intelligently]

"That's what everyone says when they get here but for whatever this universe it it's real." Sadly. They'd all love it if Wonderland went back to being a book and fake. It would be great.

And, just because the girl's new doesn't stop her from having to be responsible. You break it you bought it. There's an almost sigh, a mental pushing away of some of the irritation because - and she's getting to the library mess part - she's new. Lydia knows how little she believed this place at first - how no one believes it.

"It's not exactly the same Wonderland but it has the name, and some of the people. It's just the version you don't read about." And, gesturing to the messy book piles. "But you could try to if you picked this back up."

[vampdetective]

At first, he doesn't think anything when he catches her scent.

She'd been here not long before, a ghost of the Slayer he'd known in Sunnydale and not quite the same girl who'd lead a salvage mission against Angelus, not yet. She'd been somewhere in between, someone who knew she wanted to change but hadn't yet decided who she wanted to become-- she'd been here and then gone, up and vanished, like she'd never been here at all.

After almost two years in Wonderland, he should have been used to that. In some ways, he was-- but it cut a little deeper when it was someone like Faith. Someone close, someone at a point where she clearly needed him. Back home, there would be some other version of him to do the job, to visit the prison on weekends and keep her up to speed, check in, make sure she was keeping her nose clean. He remembered how it had been. Each visit was another step in the right direction, another brick in the wall.

It's when he enters the library itself that he realizes her scent is stronger, recent, not the faint trail of someone who'd gone weeks ago-- and it was different now. Older, more somber, if that word could ever be used to describe Faith. Maybe not-- but wiser? That, he might use.

The research material he'd come for is forgotten as he follows her scent through the aisles, pace picking up as he goes. If she's back, if she's actually here, then he needs to know-- and they need to get themselves on the same page, because he's learned the hard way that there are a lot of different ways for his relationship with Faith to go.

"Faith?"

And there she is, re-shelving books like she's not in the middle of Wonderland, definitely older than the freshly-admitted-to-prison Faith he'd spoken to only weeks before.

"Doing a little light reading?"

He's terrible at reunions.

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She should have felt him, sensed him even as her back faced him. Even across the room, out in the hall, out in the grounds; she should have known he was here.

But Faith has been distracted and angry as she dealt with and avoided dealing with the circumstance into which she'd just been literally bodily thrust. The gooseflesh creeps up her arms, the feeling that screams vampire only when Angel manages to get the drop on her like this. She hadn't figured he'd come through as well.

"You know me: classic bookworm." She says when she turns, a somewhat dimmer smile on her face than she'd like there to be. Still, she can't exactly force herself to feel entirely relieved. He should be back dealing with Illyria and she should be allowed to figure this out herself.

And then she wiggles one of the books she'd unseated in the air, gesturing around at the mess that's hers to claim. "Illyria put the whammy on you too, then, huh? Anyone else come through? That uhh-- Kohl's guy?"

Koh, Faith. Elder Koh. And he'd be really disrespected if he were here (which would probably please her, let's be honest).

[vampdetective]

She doesn't look all that happy to see him-- not that he finds that to be much of a surprise. For all their history, they'd never been the type to grin and hug it out. She looks tired, frayed around the edges, and he's not sure that surprises him, either. Most Slayers took on that look after awhile, and Faith had more reason than most.

"Kohl's? The department store?"

Because somehow, that's what needs to be clarified first. He shakes his head, folding his arms across his broad chest.

"Illyria's got nothing to do with this. If she did, pretty sure I'd have figured it out by now. It's-- complicated."

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"Think that's not supposed to make me feel better." Her eyes drift to the side as she starts to work out just what this means. "But I'm definitely feeling less pissed."

Being thrown into a car? Forgivable. Being thrown into another world, apparently, is not.

Faith snaps her gaze back to Angel, looking him over and focusing now on just a piece of his wording. Enough oddness to the phrase to pique her interest and make her feel like something's off. The smile fades completely, and she takes a deep breath leading up to her question.

"What do you mean by now? You thought you were gonna crack this in a couple hours?" He's good, sure, but even that seems overly optimistic to her.

[vampdetective]

"I'll take 'less pissed,' even if it's not quite 'better.'" He's not sure he's aiming for the latter, anyway. He can offer explanations, but he can almost guarantee she won't actually like any of them. Most people don't. It is what it is.

"At first? Yeah, I did." A lot of his cases were wrapped up in a matter of days, sometimes less. He'd certainly managed to find his way back from an alternate dimension on more than one occasion-- and in pretty short order. "Maybe closer to days than hours, but-- it didn't work out that way. I've been here awhile."

'Awhile' is pretty relative, even if he weren't well over two and a half centuries old.