17:25

Get It Done

You see, I'm a *mature* crazy person
- You're like a dog with a bone!
- So what?
- It's my bone! Just drop it!



Сначала быстренько про то, КАК.
Demon spirit и портал, конечно, так себе, но зато сцена с shadow theatre - это классно, жутковато и красиво.
Еще понравился приемчик(уже, правда, не новый), кода Willow оказывается под влиянием магии. Сначала этот прикольный ракурс с Dawn's POV, Willow такая милая и невинная - и потом резкий разворот и она орет, и глаза черные. Непонятно, правда, почему орет ))
Еще классная сцена, когда soulful Spike вспоминает о своем старом добром self и старом добром duster.Там еще и музыка здорово помогает.
Ну и еще суперская сцена драки Спайка с демоном, когда Спайк, как в старые добрые времена (It's been ages since I've had a decent spot of violence or smth like that :) ) вспоминает, как классно он умеет мочить козлов и какой кайф от этого ловит.
Еще не понравилась игра Сары Мишель Геллар в нескольких местах: 1) когда к ней подлетает демон (да, конечно, наверное сложно играть, когда спецэффекты, но мне кажется, все таки можно было и получше. может, тут и Mr. Petrie виноват как режиссер) 2) когда Shadowman собирается показать ей армию вампиров, у нее лицо уже заранее обалделое.
Goof: Buffy's boots. Before she jumps into the portal they are nice high-heeled boots, after she lands in the desert they are more like compat boots, no heels ))
Goof?: прямо перед act break демон уже лезет к ней практически во все дырки (кхм, пардон за вульгарность), а сразу после act break он то ли только лезет к ней в рот, то ли вылазит изо рта, а она орет. Довольно странно и не нравится мне это.
tribute to Douglas Petrie: классный диалог Ани и Спайка в первой сцене, классные диалог Спайка и Principal Wood в подвале, классный Andrew в кухонных варежках, делающий air quotes: - Actually he's our hostage - I like to think of myself more as a "guestage" ))))))

Теперь подробненько про то, ЧТО.
Баффи срывается с цепи. Говорит всем, что они ни фига не делают, и двое самых сильных в команде keep holding back. Баффи прыгает в портал и оказывается в компании Shadowmen, которые хотят дать ей больше силы и заодно рассказывают ей, как была создана первая истребительница. А создана она была при помощи слияния духа демона и человека. Упс. Значит, Баффстер уже *по определению* не совсем человек. Но этот важный момент почему-то проскальзывает практически не замеченным, а внимание концентрируется на том, что Баффи отказывается принять силу из такого источника. Сначала, мне думалось - ну что за идиотство. А потом, в свете моего же мета-фика оъяснение образовалось само собой и оказалось очень даже соответствующим характеру. Ведь она очень боится/стыдится своей нечеловечности, поэтому, конечно, при предложении стать еще меньше человеком и еще больше непонятно-чем, она этому сопротивляется. К тому же, вероятно, она считает, что силы у нее и так достаточно. А потом убеждается в обратном.
Объяснение объяснением, но вот вопрос про природу/сущность Баффи. Т.е., ежу понятно, что она уже не совсем человек изначально. Потом она "немножко умирает" и говорит: I feel strong. I feel different. И нигде эта тема дальше не развивается. Зато начинаются непонятки с линией истребительниц. Почему никто не избирается, когда она умирает гораздо основательней и на гораздо более долгий срок? Мне понравилось объяснение, предложенное кем-то на сообществе: так как она послей первой смерти "другая", да и вообще аномалия, она как бы выпадает из кареты истории. Эта версия отлично объясняет странности с линией избранных. Т.е. она (Баффи) как бы уже "не считается". Хотя она не совсем списана со счетов: и сны видит пророческие, и мир спасает исправно, и убытка в силе в ней не замечается. Но она уже не THE Slayer, она уже A Slayer. И она другая. Мне кажется, именно это ее качество - "differentness" - и позволяет ей вытворять всякие странности, как то: внезапно собираться с силами и забарывать даже самых ужасных монстров, собирать в себе силу своих друзей и вообще быть как Нео, ну и все такое. Короче, она становится супером, неординарностью даже среди истребительниц (тех, которые уже были до нее). А потом она умирает снова и возвращается измененная уже на молекулярном уровне. Т.е. еще меньше человек, чем она была раньше. Теперь в ней не только дух демона, дарящий ей ее силу и прочие истребительские способности, не только differentness, которая позволяет ей творить всякое, но еще и эти загадочные молекулярные изменения. При этом девушка продолжает цепляться за свою человечность. Никто никогда не задумывается над этими странными феноменами и просто принимают, что она такая суперская. И она начинает принимать это как никто другой. К тому же ей приходится стать лидером огромной толпы народа. Она несколько раз ведет себя так, как чувствует - superior. Правда потом она "ломается", а точнее "сгибается", чтобы потом, конечно же, победоносно "распрямиться". Правда, она побеждает последние два апокалипсиса не с помощью нечеловеческого напряжения сил, а с чужой помощью, и вообще как бы стоя в сторонке (ну ладно, не стоя - сражаясь в сторонке).
В общем, к чему это я? Да к тому обидному факту, что ее не-человечность как-то игнорируется, замалчивается. Весь акцент на том - чтобы быть как раз "нормальной".
Воображение уже бежит впереди паровоза, пытаясь представить, какой бы она стала, прими она эту силу. Ну, тут много вариантов, так что пусть их...
Единственное, что интересно подметила сумасшедшая феминистка из ЖЖ, так это то, что Баффи на протяжении всех семи лет пытается отделаться от своей избранности, сводя таким образом весь woman-empowerment пафос на нет. Т.е. этот образ как бы говорит: ну, дали нам эти свободы, и работаем мы теперь наравне с мужчинами, и вообще все такие из себя независимые - но блин, на хрена? Не хотим, а хотим к мужчине под крылышко, и чтоб не надо было мыкаться самим по себе. С другой стороны, может, пафос хоть и блекнет, но зато проступают мысли: т.е. как бы борьба этих "начал" в женщине, ее собственные сомнения - чего же ей больше нужно, и даже отсутствие окончательного ответа на этот вопрос. Прикольно, что я и сама для себя никак не могу на него ответить. С одной стороны, конечно, не хотелос бы, чтобы жизнь ограничивалась законов трех К, но с другой стороны, жизнь все равно сакс, если мужика нет (ну или женщины, для неортодоксальных).

@темы: buffy, episode 15, get it done, metafiction, season 7

You see, I'm a *mature* crazy person
Первый пост и сразу - быка за рога. Под воздействием непонятного наплыва вдохновения написала фанфик про Баффи. Кто бы мог подумать. Просто никогда не понимала, что у нее были за дела со Спайком в шестом сезоне, и после просмотра (наконец-то!) седьмого, когда многое объяснилось, разжевалось и положилось в рот, захотелось запечатлеть примерно ход ее мыслей, как я его себе представляю.

PROLOGUE

i've saved the world more than a few times. i love my friends and they love me. i've loved men and have been loved in return. of course, neither has worked out in the long run, but hey. this one has been one difficult fight. and a difficult time. i've lost my mother. my sister turned out to not really be my sister but something a whole lot more bothersome.
and the world is about to end. again.
blood opened the portal and blood must close it. and my sister should die to prevent the apocalypse. that little annoying whimpering dear little brat of mine has to die at the age of 14. my sister. my family, my blood. whoa. we share blood! so i can be the one to do it. and i figure, i will. i've been lucky to live this long, and anyway, what does the future hold for me? death, rather sooner than later. i prefer to die knowing that i'm at least saving the world and my sister, than at the hands of a more random baddie.
Dawn, I have to!
death is my gift.
Listen to me. Please, there's not a lot of time, listen. Dawnie, listen to me. Listen. I love you. I will *always* love you. Tell Giles ... tell Giles I figured it out. And, and I'm okay. And give my love to my friends. You have to take care of them now. You have to take care of each other. You have to be strong. Dawn, the hardest thing in this world ... is to live in it. Be brave. Live. For me.
sharp, blinding light. pain. hope it's worth it. pain. it must. pain. because what if it doesn't work? pain. it has to! pain. it will. pain. it is. pain. they will be alright. darkness. emptiness. absence of pain. rest. good. warm, fuzzy feeling. so good. rest. absence of everything. so very good.
who knows for how long? long enough to get used to it. until-
pain. something tearing at me, through me, in me.
i open my eyes. i have eyes again. and i have to make an effort to open them. and i do. darkness. hard to breathe. i have to breathe again. and i do. but why? also, it's hard to breathe. the air - there's not enough, i lift my arms and try to feel around. i can feel again. and i do. whoa. what is it that i can and do feel? i'm lying on my back, this space that i'm in is very small, i can't even move much. it's harder to breathe. and it hurts when i touch things. i can touch again. and i do. god it hurts, why does it hurt again? what happened? i made a mistake? my death wasn't enough? the world has ended? probably not, since i can do all those things. something must have gone wrong. probably the portal hasn't been closed and hell has been unleashed. is it just me or can i not breathe? it's not me. i can't breathe. i can't breathe. i can't breathe! it hurts! it hurts! it hurts! why hasn't it worked? what happened? what happened to me? why is this happening to me? it hurts so much, it's rough, it's physical. and it hurts. surface! air! i can breathe. and i do. and it hurts. and it's loud. and it hurts.

PHASE 1

it hurts. less. but it does. and no, it's not hell. but it might as well be.
it hurts less at night. in a way. i mean, not when i'm patrolling. it's when i'm alone. when it's dark and quiet. when no one talks to me. when i don't have to talk to anybody. when i don't have to talk. when i can lie motionless and pretend i'm not here. when i don't have to be.
patrolling, killing things - it's just a drag. it doesn't matter. either i do them, or they do me. i honestly don't care which. if i do them, well. so i get to hurt some more. if they do me, well. i'm not going to hold back, of course, and just let them do it. nope. must fight the baddies. must slay. but i don't care what happens. i don't want to be here. sometimes i think about killing myself. but that would be weak. i'm not weak. don't know what i am. must not be weak. must care for the sister. must care for the friends. must care for the world. god, i hate this. i hate them.
no.
mustn't say that.
but it's the hardest. daytime. walk. talk. care. and i have to care about so many things i don't care about. money. suddenly an issue. fitting back in. an issue, as always. but it's harder now, because i don't care but have to. the friends. they brought me back. they thought i was in hell. why would i be in hell? oh well. i guess, the logic went something like this: she might be anywhere, might be in hell, we miss her, we need her, the world needs her, there's no way she can just stay wherever she is. somewhat defective if you ask me. but i guess i can understand them. but i can't make myself be grateful. i'd never been so happy and content and they took it from me. and what did they give me in return? not safety, not happiness, not peace.
i haven't told them. they worry so much about me already, they want to help so much, i couldn't tell them. because then i would probably have to comfort them, say it's alright, and things like that. it's just easier like this. how could they do this to me? couldn't they have at least checked? like, two powerful wiccas, getting this magic working - couldn't have checked where i actually was?
anyway... it's horrible. i understand - well, more or less - their reasons. they love me. they need me. yada-yada-yada. and i love them. i guess. only i don't really need them. am i a horrible person to say that? i am. but i can't help it.
these concerned faces. so willing to help. so worried. i need to be ok, so at least i'm the only person who hurts.
i feel so lonely.
and it hurts.

PHASE 2

the only person i can stand to be around is spike. i told him the truth. it's because he doesn't want me to fit in, be ok, and care. he doesn't act or look worried, or concerned. he's just there. it's nice to be able to talk to someone without caring or pretending to care.
and then things get wonky.
that singing demon. tore the truth out of me. and i almost burnt to death. or not to death, i'm not sure how the thing works, and spike stopped it. he keeps telling me he loves me. i don't know. not sure how that works. he's alright. it's easier to be around him than to be around my friends. not sure how that works either. i guess it's because i'm a bad person. simple as that. i can't forgive my friends. i hate being here. and i hate feeling this way. i should move on. there's no turning back. i just can't. and then i go and kiss spike. way to move on, huh? i'm not sure how that happened.
i thought about thw why’s and how come’s of course. it's that "i want to feel" thing. and him being tolerable. and with his proclaimed love. i guess there was pity involved. so we kissed. but then i remembered what a bad idea it was. and i took off. and of course i paid for that moment. many times over. spike got ideas into his head. followed me around. now he demands stuff from me, too. now i have to take his feelings into account, too. agh. *i* have to worry about *spike*.
but the kiss was nice though.
no. now i have to shut him out as much as i can, so he doesn't get any delusions.
and then with the memory loss. we fight side by side when it all comes back. and i take off.
the bronze, good old bronze. life is going to become even harder now. hard to believe. and yet. giles is leaving. and i'm supposed to be in charge of everything now, no help, no guidance. i'm going to be so alone from now on. and even spike, the relief i've had so far, i have to cut off for my own good.
oh great. what does he want?! and don’t look so upset, for heaven’s sake, i’m the one with the depression here. i turn away, and he gets the message and leaves. goody. alone at last. yay for me. agh, crap, now i feel bad. i mean, he might not have a soul but he feels things. he feels for me. the only person around who i can talk to, and i'm being such a bitch to him. i should at least apologize, and explain. just explain so everything's clear and we can work together as before. now where did he go? uh-huh! do i see a bleached head?
Listen, about before... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to...
huh? um, wait, no, um...hm, good kisser, this one. a lifetime or practice will probably do it for ya... wait! no! hello? i didn't... agh, did i mention he's a good kisser? but no, evil bloodsucking fiend, remember? oh crap! just get your hands off me! and guess what i do next?
and then he follows me around again. i've regained my composure by this time - more or less. and i've decided that since, as it appears, i'm not good with apology, i'll just be cruel to be kind, and give him the cold treatment. and then he hits me. and he's not in pain. and he's saying terrible things. which sort of make sense. i'm a demon? but - no horns, or anything. so maybe not? or yes? he keeps talking. i'm afraid. what if what he's saying is true? i *have* been feeling different after all. oh god, just when i thought things weren't getting worse. oh god, how i hate being here! why do i have to do this? why do i have to feel like this?
i only know one way of channelling my emotions. so i wail on him. and he goes at me. and he also makes me mad. who does he think he is, who gave him the right to talk to me like that? or at all? good kisser or not, the only reason i haven't dusted him ages ago is because of the chip. but he's strong. always was a hard nut to crack. but how can he ever take me, he won't kill me, coz of all the luuuv - or will he? i'm strong. and i know how to make him weak. i know how to show him who's the boss here. and i do. and finally he stops talking. and when he does - it just feels good. i let myself go. completely. rage, fear, hatred - and the need to feel. i take it out on him, and lose myself. forgt myself. i don't think anymore. i just feel.

PHASE 3

and then comes the morning after. i wake up from the sleep. wake up from the night. wake up from the black-out.
and i can't beleive last night actually happened. but i have to. aoh my god, what have i done?! what have i let him do?! what will he think now? what am i to think now? am i a demon? no! i can't take that just now! oh god, what have i done? what happened to me?
and this crazy tak ain't doing nothing for me. which doesn't really matter. except for the part where i make it clear to him that everything was a horrible mistake and is never to be shared with anybody.
oh god, what have i done? it felt good, there's no denying, to let myself go like that. to not think and not care. but yet again, i have to deal with consequences. with my goddamn life, and with my goddamn self. something is wrong with me. first spike hits me and is not in pain, and then this. how could i let myself do it however good it might have felt? something is very wrong with me. and spike - oh god, he's about to become very tiresome. might take a few beatings for him to understand things. will not try and use words this time, might get crazy at the end like that time at the bronze and that will lead to no good.
but hey, when did things go according to plan in my world? that whole deal with willow and dawn. jeez. i hate that it's so complicated. and i hate myself for being like this. i hate that i have to deal with so many things.
and what happened - with spike - it haunts me. my mind keeps going back to that. how good it felt to just let go and not care. but i mustn't go there again. i have to be strong. and deal.
and then that invisible-man act comes about. man, was that liberating. again, to cast off responsibilities, problems. morals. do anything i want. anything i merely feel like doing. fool around. this freedom sort of went straight to my head, like alcohol. i fet drunk. drunk with with freedom like that time with spike. hmm, spike? and why not? i don't have to deal with anything, can go feel good and lost again.
and i do. but of course, it's never easy. because he suddenly has demands. why does everybody want something from me? but i can prove the he's the weak one. i can make him do whatever i want. and i can do whatever i want to him. and i do. prove it. because - why not?
tell you why not. because it's not the way of my world for me to not have to deal. and i do. deal. have to.
also, have to go to work. boring, primitive, disgusting work. as if i need to feel more disgusting than i already do. and spike? the sex and the freedom was too good to say no. to hell with everything. amongst all these things, and responsibilities, and dealing, a girl has a right to cut loose once in a while. gives me the opportunity to unload, take everything out, forget everything.

CONCLUSION

they say there's nothing wrong with me, i'm not a demon or anything, i'm just different. so how i feel - is only me. everything that i like to take out on spike and forget - is only me. all that rage, fear, and hatred, and violence - is only me. there's nothing supernatural to blame. it's only me who cuts my friends off. it's only me who does those things with spike. it's only me who hates me.

Disclaimer: I own nothing and make no profit off it.

@музыка: Michelle Branch "Goodbye to You"

@темы: meta, buffy, фанфик, season 6, шестой сезон, баффи, fanfiction