Name: Faye, we’ll pretend. Age:So old. Preferred pronouns: she/her. Sexuality: I’m starting to get the feeling I’m demisexual. Zodiac sign: Scorpio Taken or single: Engaged, happily so, to @punishmentismyjob but cheating on him with besame. Three mun facts: I work long hours, I have great hair and am all 1940s.
EXPERIENCE:
How’d you start: I started in the 1990s and am old. So, so very old. First it was forums, then email, then chat rooms, then forums, again. Twitter, facebook and messengers. Even blogs, once upon a time. Tumblr didn’t happen until 2013 but my preference is forum roleplaying. ❤ Platforms you’ve used: Use all the platforms. Worst experience: I’m going to take a pass on that.
MUSE PREFERENCES:
Original or canon: Canons, written as canons. I’m a stick in the mud about it. Favourite face:@punishmentismyjob. He’s going to be all cocky, now, lol. Least favorite face: I’d rather not get political. Multi or single: I prefer single-muse blogs, so that’s what mine are but I have a ton of them.
WRITING PREFERENCES:
Plots or memes:Plots, memes tend to be 98% ship-based and 2% coffee shop based. No thank you. Best time to write: Never, my life hates it when I write. Do you like your muse(s): I wouldn’t be writing them if I didn’t. How long (months/years?): Oh, on and off for 20+ years. I’ve been with Faith (my main muse @thatslayer ) for 19 years, as of the day after tomorrow. Fluff, angst or smut: Plot. Not a big fluff person, and muses like Angel are angst magnets. Not sure how much actual smut I’d do on an account like this, what with my muse and his unfortunate condition. Faith, also, not big on fluff and all angst. If the plot calls for any of the three, then I’m down for that but I don’t have a preference.
“Frankenstein… she actually said ‘Frankenstein’?” Angel barely touches his brow with his fingertips, like he’s suddenly self-conscious about it, “What did she say, exactly?”
“It’s not your fault. The people you’ve saved, the good you’ve done… it means something. I know it doesn’t feel like it right now… but you’ll get through this.”
“Awhile?” She doesn’t know why that feels like a kick to the gut, but it does. Angel hasn’t existed in her world for sometime now so why does Buffy feel like a rerun of Miss insecure ex is about to air?
“How long is awhile?” The pause that comes after is even longer, uncomfortable. Her body language mimics that while her voice so desperately tries for casual. “Did you know I was here?”
Angel knows the question is coming, he does. He knew that once Buffy caught wind of him, he’d be saddled with that low, deep guilt he so often finds himself wallowing in. He’s got guilt enough for decades – guilt from now until eternity, plus some to share. This sort, though, the kind he deserves is so often rooted up by random encounters with people he’s hurt that it never sits long enough for the paint to dry, the wound to heal.
Emotions not giving him a choice, he averts his eyes, gaze hitting the damp concrete rather than look in her eyes right now. She’s got a way about her that guts you. When she was good, she was very, very good. But when she was bad… it’s not something Angel likes to think about.
He almost speaks up, chokes her name out of his lungs but all he can manage to get out is something that resembles, “I…” and that’s when he finally looks up at her. She hasn’t changed, much. Not on the outside, anyway, but she’s bruised and torn just beneath her skin. He has to find his voice, force it out, “Few weeks.” drowned into a long pause and then his eyes flick up, catching and holding her gaze, “Not at first but then… I thought it would be better if I just. You have enough on your plate.”
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