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Bunnies: Not Where it's At
Bunnies: Not Where it's At
#1
(sings) I got two big bunnies and an updaa-aate

Update here: http://www.mediaminer.org/fanfic/view_st.php/153627/

Bunnies, below:

#1: Naruto Daimaoh

2008-06-11 - crested text file, recorded bunny





Now I know you've seen this one before - a giant fox demon laying waste to an army of ninja with its nine tails, across the field a giant frog with a
blond man on his head, doing some kind of sealing-style ninja magic with a newborn baby in a sling at his side.

Things were just a little different than you might expect, though - the man a little more worn looking, and a wide trail of its own blood down one side of
the fox's face where some greivous injury had been inflicted and then healed, the edge of one ear still ragged as it reformed.

Namikaze Minato, Fourth Hokage of the Village Hidden in Leaves, had tried making one, all-out attack with his strongest move, a desperate attempt to win
without using the suicide technique he'd created as a fall-back out of the desire to see his son grow, to give the boy the home he and his wife had dreamed
of even if she couldn't share in it, now. Kushina had begged him to be strong, to not follow her too soon even as the difficult birth took her life, and
he'd done his best to live up to that request, but it seemed the power of a demon could not be swayed by mere mortal wishes.

The toad leaped closer as he finished a long set of hand seals, the first of three stages to the method he'd developed, and a spectral arm reached out
from the spiral that had formed on his belly, through a second on the baby, and then in a physics defying way across the two dozen feet to the growling
kitsune, staring petrified with disbelief as a mere human summoned the God of Death himself. Its physical form being only a representation of spiritual power
it sublimated away as the demon was pulled into the seal, now glowing a menacing cherry red around the wailing infant's navel.

Knowing he only had minutes at best, seconds at worst until Shinigami claimed his own life and soul in payment for the service, the Yondaime hurriedly
applied the Eight Trigrams Sealing Style around the outside of the spiral, whose glow faded as the energy and the mind of the raging demon were constrained to
limits within the ability of a merely human body to take. He could feel himself faltering as he painted additional seals for the Four Elements style, but his
conciousness was fading and the chakra to activate the technique wouldn't form - the body was willing, but the spiritiual energy needed to direct its
stamina into the outside world was being devoured too quickly.

Defeated by his own technique, the Fourth fell to his knees, only barely able to keep his weight from falling on the helpless child. "Bunta," he
gasped. "Quickly... bring him to Sarutobi... the final seal... activate... it..."

Then the man heralded as the strongest Hokage yet was no more, and the huge toad summon was left alone to fulfill that last request. Out of respect for the
man, he did so, but the delay was not without some cost - demonic energy had flared up again during the interuption, and by the time the Four Elements Style
seal was completed it wasn't just whisker marks that had been added to young Naruto's features, his irises had bled from blue to red and gained
vertical slits, and his little fingernails thickened and curled together at the tips into small, rounded claws.

They smoothed out again as the demon was finally fully caged, but sky blue irises still carried diamond pupils, and the ridged, whisker-like scars on his
cheeks stayed as well.

---=- + -=---

"Ne. Gramps, what's this Academy thing you want me to go to?"

Surutobi Cheishamaru, reinstated as Third Hokage six years ago after his successor's untimely death, smiled gently at the little blond boy slurping
ramen beside him. "The Konoha Academy is where boys and girls go to learn how to become ninja, to protect this Leaf Village with their strength."

"Protect... WHY WOULD I WANNA DO THAT!? This village is full of evil meanies, who always pick on me and call me names! I don't wanna be a ninja...
I'll... I'm gonna become the king of all demons and punish the wicked! Everybody will wish they'd been nice to me then!"

Seeing the stricken look on the old man's face, one of only three people who'd ever been kind to him, Naruto quickly added, "Don't worry
Gramps! I'll be a good demon king and only bad people will get punished, not you or Ichiraku-ojisan or Ayame-neechan! You're not mean, so it's
okay!"

The ramen chef and his daughter, who'd frozen in unfamilar fear as the lonely little boy they'd slowly opened up to seemed to fulfill the worst
rumors about him, relaxed just a bit as he added the qualifier. The Hokage's own heart had clenched in his chest at the child's resentful declaration,
chilled at the thought of facing the boy's parents in the next world when he'd allowed the village to fail their trust so badly. At the same time,
there was just the tiniest sliver of hope, Naruto was still young and all it seemed he needed was a few friendly faces to keep him from turning completely down
a dark path.

Even more importantly, being admitted to the Academy would put him under the Hokage's authority as a ninja-in-training instead of the civilian Council,
and despite all his arguments the Council continued to turn an ever harsher eye on the young demon container. That was what had prompted him to try enrolling
the child two years early in the first place. "Naruto," he said, putting forth his most serious but still caring look. "At the Academy, there
will be lots of chances for you to make new friends your age, and..." he hesitated at saying any more, but there wouldn't be any point sending the boy
if he was already determined not to learn "... to be a demon king, you'd need to be strong, and ninja arts are the strongest on the
battlefield."

Slitted blue eyes studied him through narrowed, suspicious lids, but finally the whisker-cheeked blond nodded and went back to his meal. He knew that even a
demon king could get hurt by ninja, so maybe he should learn how to be one, after all.

So, Naruto went to the Academy. He didn't exactly make any close freinds, but a few of the other boys would hang around with him sometimes, so that
wasn't too bad, and he got to practise his skills at punishing the wicked with pranks ranging from tossing water around a corner and running away to
elaborate multi-stage traps.

---=- + -=---

Naruto's body was strong and his mind quick enough when something engaged his interest but unfortunately little of the Academy's instruction did,
especially as rendered through the bias of teachers who'd lost parents, siblings, or team mates to the attack of the Nine-tails and held him as the living
symbol of their resentment. He'd failed two graduation exams, dropping back to the class with his yearmates, and the third as well thanks to irregular
chakra that foiled his attempt at the specified ninjutsu.

Anxious to be done with the place at last, having learned all he could or cared to from it, he'd taken up the 'alternate test' one of the less
openly hostile teachers had proposed later that afternoon despite signs of being a trap, and after studying the scroll he'd been tasked to retreive it was
even more obvious that the whole situation was a set up. A set up that he'd profited more by than he'd even dreamed he might, but a set up none the
less. Now he was just waiting for the liar responsible for the situation to show up and end the 'test.'

Newly sharpened senses felt someone arrive in the trees behind him, and he called out, "So, Mizuki-sensei, here at last? I got the scroll, but I
can't demonstrate any of these techniques, so I guess I still don't graduate, huh?" Still facing the other way, he laughed at the rush of muddled
feelings in the other man's aura. "Having second thoughts? Well, it doesn't matter... I learned something good anyway, and unlocked more of my
real power. Here, why don't you give it a try?"

Naruto nicked a thumb on one needle-sharp incisor and scattered a few drops of dark blood in front of himself. "Rei, doru,

konjou, chishio, shin'on! Majutsu: Ketsukuro Bunshin!" He turned at last to fix ominously glowing red eyes on the intruder as four more pairs rose
from the shadows on either side, the duplicates taking form an instant later as pitch-black silhouettes of the boy, their only discernable feature the eerie
red eyes.

This utterly cool and intimidating pose fell apart as he saw who exactly had found him. "EEEH!? Iruka? You're not Mizuki-sensei! Even if you're
cold sometimes, I can't use a big punishment on you!"

Speared on those burning eyes, the Academy teacher was still frozen with remembered terror as they softened in confusion - though no more than an Academy
student himself at the time, he'd been present when the nine-tails attacked, and had lost both his parents in the battle. He'd tried to at least be
fair to the kid, grading and treating him no more harshly than the rules specified but it was hard to set aside his anger, espescially with the boy's
bizarre fixation on becoming a 'good demon king' to hand out punishment to the unrightous.

The practical jokes and the way the other kids kept him apart, on the other hand, were all too reminiscent of his own troubled childhood, and the talk
he'd had with the Sandaime that afternoon just underscored the fact that all the kid really wanted was some attention... but those demon eyes, and the
spoken incantation without hand seals, those were the same as that terrible night.

"What are you doing here anyway, Iruka-sensei? You're not the type to go along with something like this fake test..."

Shaking himself, the scar-faced chuunin forced his mind back into action, even the strange silhouette clones no longer ominous with their eyes as quizzical
as the original's. Putting together the things his earstwhile student had said, he realised, "Oh, so that's the situation..."

"So, you figured it out?" This time, the new speaker was indeed Mizuki, sneer twisting his face into a cruel mask. "I guess I'll just
have to kill you both, in that case."

blah blah, shuriken intercepted by Iruka, "Don't give him the scroll even if you die!" etc.

"I'll tell you a secret, Naruto..." blah blah, law "No one is supposed to say, that you are the demon fox!"

*Oh shit,* Iruka thought, *the poor kid was unstable enough before...*

Naruto's shoulders shook, but his bowed head hid his reaction for a moment... until he gave up on hiding the laughter, rearing back and letting it
escape. "You... Did you really think I didn't KNOW!?" he demeanded, getting his breath back under control. "In my dreams, I remember those
times... forest spirit, then temple guardian, summoned ally, and eventually just a rampaging scourge consumed with arrogance... and a human who punctured that
arrogance. Didn't you ever listen to me? I'm going to return to my place as the king of all demons, and give out punishment to the wicked... that means
you, traitor!"

That burning red gaze fell on its intended target this time, and the white-haired teacher was locked shivering in place under their terrifying malicious
intent. The four clones who'd vanished into the shadowed woods reappeared, equally spaced with their master around the tree where Mizuki was crouched.
"En, chi, naki, doku, yaki!" they chanted in unison, cousing a pentagram of red light to spring up from the ground as if shining through cracks. The
ground at center of the sigil began to crumble away, more red light shining out of the gap, as the original naruto called out, "Majutsu: Inpu
Kaiin!"

The phenomenon quickly spread until the tree's roots could no longer support it and it tumbled into the pit, Mizuki releasing a terrified wail as he
fell with it. The aperture remained open a few more seconds, spewing foul smoke and blast-furnace heat, before first the glow faded, then the pentagram,
leaving a divot in the forest floor perhaps ten feet wide and deep.

Their energy exhausted and tasks finished the four clones dispelled, leaving Naruto alone with the injured Iruka. The boy panted a bit as the glow faded at
last from his eyes, and the prominent fangs peeking out from his lips faded back a bit. "Eheheh... that was a little harder than I thought, even after
getting some of my old power back..." he admitted, rubbing the back of his head. "Anyway, Iruka-sensei... I'm not sure why you saved me like
that, but thanks."

"Naruto... you know what it's like, don't you? To feel pain, to be alone, to try anything to make people look at you... If you're a human
or a demon, you're still Uzumaki Naruto, my student. Come here a minute."

blah blah headband, Saru sits back from his crystal ball, a bit troubled by the blatant use of demon magic but glad to see Naruto forming another bond to
Konoha, and releived to finally know why Naruto wants to be a demon king. Even if the goal itself is worrysome, the continued insistence on morality in
judgement and the Kyuubi's rampage being held up as an example to avoid are positive signs.

---=- + -=---

"...and to kill a certain man."

Crimson eyes glowing faintly as he used their power to read the auras of his new team mates, Naruto finally understood better what the situation of his
rival was. "Someone who was close to you but betrayed you utterly... family?" Ignoring the furious glare prompted by his muttered insight, Naruto
flashed the dark-haired boy a wide, only slightly menacing smile that screwed his eyes up in happy arcs. "I never knew you had such a good goal, Sasuke!
As a great demon king who punishes the wicked, I'll lend you my strength!"

---=- + -=---

"Demon of the Mist? No, he's just a human..."

---=- + -=---

"Sasuke... that mark... it's really weak, I'll get rid of it for you. You should have told me if you wanted to sell your soul for power,
I'll do a way better job than this!"

---=- + -=---

Hey, that's the loser who put that demon mark on Sasuke. I could make a better contract with my BIG TOE! I'm gonna kick your ass, you pansy
snake-lover!"

"There's an unbreakable barrier in the way, you know."

"So? Knock the building down, they can't keep it up if they're splatted on the ground."

"..." "..." "..." "We knew that."

---=- + -=---

.....

---=- + -=---

"So what you're saying is, when you're inside that circle and do the ritual, your god Jashin returns any attack on the one whose blood you
used? It's a good thing that was mine, then. En, chi, naki, doku, yaki! Majutsu: Inpu Kaiin!"

The ground fell away under the Akatsuki member Jashinite circle and all, and moments later billowing blood-red flames sprang up around Naruto, who grinned
cheekily at the vanished man's partner from their embrace. "Nothing like a little taste of home, ne?" he caroled, stretching and slapping his
chest.

=================================

Rei, doru. konjou, chishio, shin'on - spirit, mud, willpower, blood spilled from the body, (sound of a) heartbeat

Majutsu: Ketsukuro Bunshin - Demon magic: black blood clone

En, chi, naki, doku, yaki - fire, blood, tears, poison, ashes

Majutsu: Inpu Kaiin - Demon magic: path to hell opening

Background explanations: The delay in finishing the seal let the Kyuubi start to merge and take over baby Naruto, implanting memories (but FAR from its full
10,000+ years worth) and transforming the body to properly use demonic energy, but then Sandaime finished the seal and ripped its actual mind apart. Inside the
mental cage is a mindless, ravening beast, without even a solidly defined form. Naruto can draw as much of its chakra as the seal will allow whenever he likes,
and the power-up in the woods is the result of reading about the Eight Trigrams Sealing Style and altering it to let more power flow. Becasue of these changes,
four of the twelve marks around the spiral on his belly are a slightly different color of dark blue (signifying Sarutobi's having finished the Four
Elements seal instead of Minato) and one of the Hakke Fuin's marks has a maroon squiggle over the outer end.





EOF
Edit: Shortened divider to stop breaking page formatting on my handheld
--
"Anko, what you do in your free time is your own choice. Use it wisely. And if you do not use it wisely, make sure you thoroughly enjoy whatever unwise thing you are doing." - HymnOfRagnorok as Orochimaru at SpaceBattles
woot Med. Eng., verb, 1st & 3rd pers. prsnt. sg. know, knows
Reply
 
#2
#2: So she wants an 'angel'?

Summary: So Buffy wants to impress Angel with her costume? I'll give her an 'angel' all right...

Disclaimer: At the end, at least for the first chapter



X. O. G.



Xander watched, disgusted, as his almost-tender-moment of reconciliation with Buffy over the damage to his macho image earlier in the day vanished, washed
away in the flood as she gushed over an 18th century style gown. "Ooh, Angel, look at me, I'm so fluffy! Just like the girls you used to drain!"
he muttered derisively. He just couldn't understand what she saw in a walking corpse... Worst of all, he knew that going as some lame-o generic soldier
like he'd planned would never have a chance at catching her eye himself.

Unfortunately, he didn't have the kind of money it would take to rent something more impressive, and aside from the old fatigues he'd dug out of the
attic he had nothing but his normal day to day clothes and the black suit he'd worn to his grandmother's funeral.

Frustrated, he cast one last look around the cluttered shop before heading to the bin with the toy guns, then winced at the sound of something hitting the
floor. Automatically spinning to check out the noise, he saw a sheepish-looking Jonothan Levinson hastily picking up a plain white mask - the kind used for
operas and masquerades, not a "Scream" mask - and set it back on the shelf before heading to a different part of the store under the annoyed glare of
the shopkeeper.

Curious, and feeling the first tickle of an alternate costume idea in the back of his mind, he wandered over and picked up the mask himself - it was plaster
or maybe even real porcelain, and the tag was way more than he could manage, but thanks to the fall it now had a chip out of the left cheek and a huge crack
from the chin to the right corner of the mouth, and up the left side of the nose to that eye hole... but if anything, that would make it even better, if he
could get the owner to sell it cheaply enough due to the damage.

Speaking of whom, he was startled out of his brainstorming by a British accented voice asking, "Can I help you? It looks like that butterfingers
damaged that, but it's the last of that style, I'm afraid."

Xander jumped and spun around with a half-strangeld squeak, the mask slipping again to land on the hard, linoleum tile floor, the second impact finishing
the job of breaking it. "AH! Oh, jeeze, don't DO that!" he complained, before apologising, "Now it's really broken... sorry, but you
startled me. Uh... any chance I can get you to give me a break on paying for that, since it was already cracked?"

"If anyone should pay for it, it would be that other fellow, but I seem to have lost track of him. Don't worry my boy, though I do hope you can
find something else suitable now that it's gone," the englishman replied. He gave a slightly dodgy grin nd introduced himself. "I'm Ethan,
Ethan Rayne, and I could hardly get all shirty with my customers over a simple accident when I just opened the shop, now could I? Wouldn't be good
publicity."

Kneeling to collect the pieces, Xander inspected the broken edge. It was pretty clean, and not too sharp. With any luck, he'd be able to even it out
some more with the dremel in the garage, and both the loops for the elastic headband that held it on were still intact. "Actually, I think I can still
work with this," he said, contemplatively, "I just need some amber contacts, and maybe a ring..." The costume he was thinking of wouldn't
normally be his kind of thing, but the video of the production they'd been shown in English class had actually been kind of cool, espescially considering
all the pyrotechnics and things had been done right there on the stage as it was recorded rather than being added later like a movie.

"Ah? What a pleasant change to see a young person being a bit creative with their costume, rather than simply picking something off a rack. Let's
see then, I have a number of theatrical contact lenses and costume jewelry in the counter display; most of the rings with anything like a realistically sized
rhinestone are fifty cents each, while contacts are a dollar fifty. I shan't charge you for the mask, since it wasn't your fault it was
broken."

"Whoa, thanks! That's awesome, I'll, uh, make sure and tell everyone to come here, ok?" It was all Xander could do to contain the urge to
Snoopy-dance in celebration, he was going to be way cooler than some generic soldier, and hadn't spent any more money than he'd planned, meaning
he'd still have enough for a couple packs of Twinkies on the way home. Priorities were important, after all.

Ethan finished the sale and headed over to where Buffy and Willow were still admiring the period dress, which, to be fair, would probably look very good on
the Buffster... "So, she wants to impress Angel, huh?" he mused with a grin. "I'll give her an 'angel,' all right..."

(00(0)00)

The dremel had worked just like he'd hoped, a grinder tip easily smoothing away the rough broken edges of his half-a-mask and letting him shape what was
left so it looked like it had been made that way from the start. A little careful combing let his hair fall naturally and invisibly over the headband holding
it in place, the stem of his fake rose tucked neatly throguh the breast pocket buttonhole on the suit, and the black sheet he'd turned into a cloak was
light enough to billow dramatically without any special effort. He adjusted the hang of it one final time and brushed away a few flecks of dust from his suit,
then rang the doorbell at 1630 Revello Drive, and cleared his throat for the little introduction he'd spent msot of the afternoon practising, hopefully to
the point that it wouldn't cause active nausea with his singing voice.

"My goodness," Buffy's mother greeted him as she opened the door. "You certainly cleaned up nice, Xander. I don't quite recognise the
costume, though?" The amber eyes gave her a momentary pause - she had a sudden flashback to the gang attack during Parent/Teacher night, for some reason,
but she shook it off.

Here goes nothing, he thought, then sang, "I am the Angel of Music; Come to the Angel of Music..."

A wide grin split the woman's face as she caught on and she waved him in before turning and herself singing up the stairs in a warm, clear soprano,
"He's here! The Phantom of the the Opera He is with us! It's the ghost! The Phantom of the Opera!"

Turning back to the boy and speaking normally again she complimented, "That's certainly an original costume, I don't think I've ever seen
anyone dress up as the Phantom before. It seems a little darker than your usual style, but I suppose that's what Halloween is all about after
all."

"Thanks Mrs. S! You're right about Halloween, and while the Phantom was kind of the bad guy, he still did the noble thing in the end, and he kicked
lots of a... ah, butt, on the way."

"Xander, I've told you aleady to call me Joyce, 'Mrs. Summers' makes me feel far too old. Would you like some cookies while you wait for
the girls? I just finished a fresh batch."

Xander could feel his mouth start watering at the mere suggestion, and quickly adapted another snatch of music from the show. "You know how to make my
song take flight... The music of the cookies of the night!"

(00(0)00)

Xander came back to himself just in time to witness the incredibly gratifying sight of Spike being hit by a fireball and bursting into a cloud of flame and
dust, and that alone was worth the whole share-his-head deal, since with the spell apparently ended it would have winked out along with the Phantom himself
otherwise. The rest of the vampires were quickly mopped up by Buffy, now free of the wig that combined with the gown had made her look so heartbreakingly like
Christine as the Phantom had last seen her, mere minutes before the whole possession thing went down.

It was kind of scary how much they had in common, actually, as if he'd been a faint echo of the character from the beginning - Xander had always been
interested in architecture and when something broke around the house he'd tinker around to try to fix it, since otherwise who knew when his drunken excuses
for parents would even notice let alone bother to replace it. The Phantom, before being relegated to a circus and escaping to the parisian Opera Populaire, had
built a labrynth of mirrors for the Shah of Persia, a construct that was in fact a tremendously powerful magical amplifier though it carried grave risks for
the user. Thankfully Xander wasn't horribly deformed (and the rush of elation when the Phantom had pulled off his mask and looked into a whole face, even
if it was someone else's, in the reflection from a window had been intense), but he was still pretty much a social outsider.

Genius, okay, maybe not so much, that was generally Willow's department, and up until now he'd have sworn that him and the mojo were un-mixy things
like gasoline and matches, but the real kicker was that they'd both always had the music in their heads. The soundtrack of Xander's life tended more to
Country and Blues than the grand orchestras of the Phantom. Of course, the memories of how much more it was possible for life to suck than his own had kind of
dulled the appeal of the Music of Pain... he could see a lot of more upbeat, energetic stuff in his future. That had to be counted as a plus, too, really
seeing and appreciating the friends he had.

It had been the strength of that musical connection that had formed the bridge between them for O. G.'s mojo to anchor himself with. Opera Ghost, the
only name the Phantom had chosen for himself, and the only one he'd not thrown away as the ones who used the others had thrown him away... perhaps if
Christine had chosen him for real, he'd have picked another, or she would, but that was the final link between them - Christine had loved Raoul so much she
would have stayed with the Phantom to spare his life, and in the end it had been the difference in the look in her eyes when she looked at O. G. and claimed
she'd learn to love him that had made him set them both free.

Xander hated to admit it, but Buffy had the same look for Angel as Christine had for Raoul. God, could he never catch a break? At least he'd figured it
out before going on a jealous killing spree, but then he'd had Jessie, Willow, and let's not forget Saturday morning cartoons to learn his morals from
instead of a lifetime of being reviled and hunted and melodramatic opera productions as rife with plots and backstabbing both literal and figurative as a whole
season of daytime soaps condensed into each two or three hour show.

"Xander? Are you okay?" Buffy's worried question broke him out of his thoughts, and the urge to lean foreward and kiss her was all but
overwhelming as she reached up and lifted away his half-mask.

The thought of her smile for Angel stayed him, though, and he swallowed and pasted on a grin. "Ah, yeah Buff, just, you know, lots of thinky thoughts
left behind by the Phantom. He's one intense guy!"

"Intense... yeah." Like that look in his eyes then. Buffy had known her Xander-shaped friend had the occasional boy-girl thoughts about her, but
he was strictly Property of Willow and even if not, she had Angel - but that had been something else. Even the gold contacts that could have been kind of
wigsome (because hello, Hyena? vampires? What had Xander been thinking, getting those, anyway?) had been so alive and soulful that they just didn't...
Wait, what? "Xander, aren't those supposed to be contacts? How come they're adjusting like a real eye?"

Worried now, Xander snapped a hand up to feel the skin of his face where the mask had hidden it, but it was as whole and scar-free as ever. He blinked a
couple of times, but the contacts definitely felt gone. "Okay, that is of the wierd, but I think I know what's up... let's get the kids back to
the pick up at the school, and then we can talk to Giles about it, yeah?"

Buffy hesitated - anything wierd was usually bad on the Hellmouth, and when it wasn't that just meant it was probably really, truly bad instead. But, he
didn't feel demony or anything so it could probably wait a couple hours... "Okay Xander, just try not to zone out like that, it can lead to
monster-snackage."

(00(0)00)

"Oh, my poor Spikey, Kitten burned him up with his ghostly claws, and now the Angel of Music sings in his head... perhaps the stars will sing a
duet?" The remaining vampires of Spike and Drusilla's nest backed away from the insane vampiress, all too aware of her volatile temper - just the fact
that she was singsonging happily while her eyes spoke of immense sorrow and loss and wept blood, while her mouth was twisted in a rictus of rage, gave
testimony enough to that. Her tarot cards fell aside as she stood and waltzed weakly about the room singing.

"Little Lotte, let her mind wander... Little Lotte thought 'Am I fonder, of dolls or of goblins, of shoes or of riddles, of frocks or of
chocolates... No, what I love best,' Lotte said, 'is when I'm asleep in my bed, and the Angel of Music sings songs in my head, the Angel of Music
sings songs in my head...'"

She froze in place, and her tongue slipped out to delicately lick away the bloody tear track at the corner of her mouth. "Come children... naughty
children, hiding in the shadows! Bring Mummy someone to eat, and then it's time to speak of many things, of vengeance for my Spikey, of Slayers, cats, and
kings!"

Beside her chair, three cards had landed face up, showing a cyclops, a centipede, and a jaguar.

(00(0)00)

Xander, Buffy, Willow, and Cordelia walked into the Library later that evening, Willow rubbing her nose where she'd unto the door after forgetting she
couldn't walk through things any more. Giles nearly dropped his teacup again at the sight of Xander's eyes, but the lack of forehead ridges and fangs
combined with the way he was laughing and gently ribbing his friend calmed the older man's worst fears.

"Heya G-Man!" Xander greeted him, "Willow said you tracked down that Ethan guy as the source of the spell - did you get 'im?"

"Er, no, sadly, he escaped while I was distracted, disrupting the, the magical paraphenelia that was maintaining the effect, the blighter. Are any of
you experiencing any, er, lingering consequences?" It could just be that the young man hadn't removed some costume lenses, he thought hopefully.

"I know what's up with me," Xander replied, shattering that hope, "and Cordy didn't get her costume there... Buffy? Willow?"

Willow rubbed her nose again sheepishly, and explained, "Well, I was me, just ghost-me, and it's kind of confusing switching back to
non-ghosty-ness but that's all." She looked at Buffy.

"Nothing much, the bottle blonde replied thoguhtfully. "I think I won't be having any trouble with French class any more, or doing sewing and
needlepoint in Home Ec, but that's about it. Kinda good to be me again."

"Right, if any vicious car-demons need slaying, you're our gal," Xander quipped, then yelped as he caught an elbow to the side from Buffy.
"Actually, there's more to Willow's ghosty-ness than that, but I wanted to see if she couild tell - and it has to do with what's up wth me,
too."

"Huh?" the red-head in question gulped, "Wait, do you mean I'm going to kep going ghost-y because that could beaproblemevenifit

isprettycooltobeintangiblebutwhatifIhadtoeatandcouldn'ttouchthe

foodandthat'snotevengoingintobathroomtimesandohgodIreallyneedto stoptalkingaboutthatrightnowso--"

"Breathe, Rosenburg," Cordelia cut in, "And I so don't want to hear about bathroom times in ghost-ville." Willow clammed up, and
blushed redder than her hair. "Since we're obviously not going to get out of here until your share-time is over, Dork, get on with it. I have
important Bronzing to do so this night isn't a total wash."

"Nice, Cordy," Xander scolded, met by a 'Yeah? So?' look. "Anyhoo, I went as the Phantom of the Opera, from the very end of the
musical where he teleports away. Being big with the mojo and all, and not wanting to fade away or go back to a world where he just sent the love of his life to
be with someone she loves more while he was facing down a lynch mob, he made me a deal."

"Oh dear lord," Giles interrupted, polishing his glasses in exasperation. "Xander, I'm tremendously disappointed in you. Surely
you've learned by now that those who bargain with mystical entities come to an almost universally bad end!?"

"Yeah, Buffy's always talking me out of like, half my lunches with her evil mystical Slayer-power-lip and puppy eyes," he fired back.

"Hey!" the blonde defended herself, "So not the same thing! In no way am I a creepy, ugly, evil, singing stalker-guy!" Her watcher just
rubbed his temples, knowing that this was going to be one of THOSE conversations.

"Can't argue with you there, Buffster," Xander coneeded, "But the Phantom wasn't really evil, he just never had any reason to care
about anyone besides Christine, kind of a 'do anything for love' type. But in the end, the one thing he wouldn't do for love is get between her and
the man she loved more... I'd have thought you'd appreciate that, at least," he said with a significant arch of the eyebrows.

"What, uh, yeah okay, but seriously, Xan, demony bargains: not of the good!" Buffy countered, hoping to get off the subject before it gave Giles
another chance to disapprove of Angel.

"He wasn't a demon, guys! The Phantom was just a guy with a birth defect that messed up one side of his face - his mother abanded him when he was a
toddler, and a witch took him in. The tree-huggy earth mother kind of witch, not flying monkeys and boil-curses. He started learning magic and other stuff from
her, and he's like, a total genius! It's not like he wants me to go sacrificing kittens or anything, even if he did get into darker magic later
on!"

Giles sighed heavily and said, "I reiterate, ANY deals with the supernatural have a tendency to go very poorly... perhaps you should just tell us the
bargain you made, and why on EARTH you felt you needed to!"

"Okay, okay. It's no real biggie, basically, it was just that he gets to stay and see life through a normal looking body, namely one Xander Harris,
and in return I get his skills so I can be more useful in the slayage, and to teach Wills," he explained."

"What? Me?" Willow yelped. "I mean, I've read some stuff but I can barely float a pencil and... um, oops!" She looked guiltily at
Giles, who winced and stopped putting on his glasses to give them a few more swipes with a tissue.

Before anyone could jump on that, Xander steamrolled on, "Seriously, there's no real bad here! I'm not going to suddenly turn into the Phantom,
in fact it's more like he's going to slowly turn into me and be absorbed from what he said. I'm still Xander, just... Xander-plus."

"While I can certainly understand the desire to be more effective on patrol, that still does not explain why the bloody HELL you thought it a good idea
to bargain for magical power with an acknowledged dark practitioner, let alone the notion of teaching WIllow! Magic is not a toy, and is not even a science,
even the most seemingly innocent experimentation can lead to personal tradgedy at best, or the unleashing of horrifically dark forces at worst!" the
exasperated Watcher shouted. "How could you BE so irresponsible?"

"And that's why!" Xander argued back. "The Phantom IS an experienced caster - what he does in the show is the worst he ever got, mild
magical hypnosis and basic battle magic, mostly he did illusions and enchanted gizmos to give the opera house's shows really whiz-bang special effects -
just enough to stay hidden from some vamps or appear and stake and disappear, or make them nice and toasty with a fire ball. The important part is
Willow!"

"For the love of god, HOW?" Controlling himself with effort, Giles continued, "Even granted all that, given that from her reaction when you
mentioned her Willow hadn't mentioned her dabbling to you, either, why would you think that the prospect of teaching her with the knowledge of a fictional
character to draw on was so important as to risk making such a bargain?"

"Because thanks to getting turned into a ghost Willow is now connected to the afterlife. I figured we need someone who knows how the mojo works to keep
something from coming down that connection and making with the major badness - even if it's not a possession kind of thing, it'll make it way too easy
for her to get deep into the black stuff."

Giles went pale, and stopped polishing his glasses. The rest of them were silent for a few seconds, until Cordelia stood up and announced, "Well, if
that's all, I'm heading to the Bronze. Make sure Mousy doesn't get all Wicked Witch of the West Coast without enough warning for me to leave town,
okay?" Ignoring their shocked looks, the social queen of the school made her way out of the library.

"Same old Cordelia, I guess," Xander said, after a minute. "Of course it's not important, it's not about her." he rubbed the
ring on his finger distractedly, not used to its presence, then did a double take as he realised that it had retained the weight of silver and the brilliant
inner fire of a real gemstone rather than changing back into cheap chromed plastic and glass, but dismissed it as irrelevant for the moment.

"Anyway, Giles, like you said last year when that whole thing with Amy's Mom went down, you're big with the books but don't have much
practical experience of magic. It's important to know what you're doing with the mojo, so I - both him and me, agreed that Willow needed someone with
experience at using the stuff, and at NOT using too much of the black kind despite what might happen in life, around to help her learn. That's why I said
yes, and why I'm not going to let you wipe out the Opera Ghost like after the hyena thing."

And the hell of it, thought Giles, was that the point about not going too far into the Black would still have held true even if he hadn't prevaricated
about his actual casting experience, what with the disasters of his misspent youth. He sighed again, feelingly, and looked around at all of his charges. Willow
seemed still too tongue tied from being found out dabbling, and given Buffy's relationship with the vampire Angel he had no doubt the implied truce on that
matter in Xander's earlier words had her torn with indescision at the moment. Better to cut losses before either of them actively came out in support of
each others' folly. "Since it seems that you are firmly decided in the matter I will yield for now, but I hope you can understand why I must insist
that any magical tutoring or even your own casting be done with supervision?"

Smiling and relaxing finally from the tense, semi-defensive posture he'd held up to now, Xander readily agreed, "Of course, G-Man, no need to go
crazy kicking the training wheels off of life. Gotta learn to flap your arms before you go flying to Tahiti!"

"Er... yes, quite, I'm sure." Oh yeah, it was one of THOSE conversations.



------------------------------------

Notes:

I am pretty much entirely undecided as to whether or what Xander relationships might develop, so if you want to put your two cents in, now's the time.
Possibilities are:

Willow

Vampire Willow (could stick around in place of Spike, and probably really hot to seduce her non-vampy self...)

Cordelia

Drusilla (but I feel about like canon-Xander on the subject of vampire-laying being of the bad, so give some good ideas if you like this or V.Wills)

Buffy

Kendra (but you'd have to argue hard, and give some ideas for what to do with non-Slayer Faith)

Faith

Anya (the path of least resistance, Dona Juanita Triumphant)

Of course, there's quite a bit of emotional distance to go before he's going to start up with anyone; O.G.'s memory of freeing Christine is far
too close and painful. I'm actually leaning the most toward keeping him single because nothing compares to Christine and Buffy, and at the meta-level
because I'm anything but adept at romance.

Unfortunately I can't promise anything resembling a regular update schedule, or even that updates will happen at all - though I enjoy writing, I like
reading far more, and there's a lot of good fic out there to be read, and even more mediocre to bad fic to be waded though in search of it. On the other
hand, I NEVER give up on projects entirely - I've had one grinding along like a glacier since 1991, accreteing a few lines to the latest chapter every
month or two. Then again, if I can manage to actually keep my chapter lengths down for this one, maybe it'll flow a little faster - I keep finding myself
having to split my working files up because when a single part gets over 100kb the PDA I do most of my writing on gets too bogged down [Image: smile.gif] This one is
uncharacteristically short because we've all seen the events of Halloween rehashed again and again and again, and there's really no point going over it
one more time substituting fireballs for gun shots and adding in bits of poorly-adapted PotO lyrics for dialogue.

---==- + -==---

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and related characters and concepts were created by Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy, The Phantom Opera by Andrew LLoyd
Webber. No challenge to the ownership of these or any other referenced properties is intended by their use in this fanfiction.

While I don't remember exactly where, I'm pretty sure that the idea that WIllow's time as a ghost strengthened her magic through a connection to
the spirit realms is from a fanfic I read a few years ago, but it makes too much sense to skip over.

EOF
--
"Anko, what you do in your free time is your own choice. Use it wisely. And if you do not use it wisely, make sure you thoroughly enjoy whatever unwise thing you are doing." - HymnOfRagnorok as Orochimaru at SpaceBattles
woot Med. Eng., verb, 1st & 3rd pers. prsnt. sg. know, knows
Reply
 
#3
I must say, the Phantom bunny is magnificent. I'm not sure what to offer as suggestions, but I would certainly love to read whatever develops.
-- Bob
---------
Then the horns kicked in...
...and my shoes began to squeak.
Reply
 
#4
The thing that comes to mind about the Phantom one is that Xander is going to be rather intrested in moving out rather soon, making a lab for enchanted
thingies and all. A heavy combat mages would be able to go blow things up in the desert and be fine.... but as an enchanter of objects he is going to need
somewhere stable and relatively undisturbed, in order to make with the stable enchantments stick to things. So first thing he is going to try to set up a lab
somewhere Also, enchanting on the hellmouth with do weird things until he learns to compinsate for the Hellmouthy energies.

Ignoring the obvious Xander makes their armory into +1 weapons, and minor AC boosting stuff... bracers or leg guards that can be worn under clothing. A little
body hardening or deflection capabilities goes a long way towards survival. Maybe things that help you resist fire or let you see farther, better at night or
blend into the night better.. He has been exposed to table top RPGs and comic books so making things like that are in character, also simple enough in theory
and function that he can practice without doing something too dangerous or screwing up something complicated.

Later he'll aim for things that make their non combat jobs easier. For instance a headband that functions like an extended memory cartridge for those
endless research sessions. Doesn't really make you smarter so much as let more stew in your short term memory so you can make connections your tired mind
normally wouldn't pick up on at that point. A mental note band if you will.

If he does spend as much time working with enchantments as I think he would, eventually someone will notice... and this can lead to commissioned work or kidnap
and force him to make X artifact work or just make X magic item. He'll be able to expand his knowledge if they grant random artifact/magic item during a
mission. Anya will be in love with the idea of having an anechanter on staff at the magic box. Then again with Xander's ability to attract inhuman women
I'm sure that he'll end up with random females enitities after him that wouldn't normally appear in the series.

Later on, I get the weird vision of Xander making something that causes a arrow to appear about the First Evil... one that literally hovers above its head,
when in range, and literally points out that this is the First Evil. Same vein as the wierdness of Drusilla randomly singing prophesy at people in the middle
of combat for a while... Which will make anyone reporting on the two groups interactions at that point confused.

Oh and Xander probably won't be interested in romance too much for at least a few months so. As Willow will be his apprentice I think that he'll avoid
a romantic relationship there... too much Christine vibe for Xanders to not have issues with the idea of that relationship.
Reply
 
#5
All excellent points - I added the note about 'not Willow' in the list when I posted it to TTH just now (since it is a complete chapter, at least),
but didn't want to just copy and paste without permission.

Link: http://www.tthfanfic.org/Story-16582/di ... ed+O+G.htm
--
"Anko, what you do in your free time is your own choice. Use it wisely. And if you do not use it wisely, make sure you thoroughly enjoy whatever unwise thing you are doing." - HymnOfRagnorok as Orochimaru at SpaceBattles
woot Med. Eng., verb, 1st & 3rd pers. prsnt. sg. know, knows
Reply
Argh!
#6
Damn it! I haven't seen Phantom in years, but between that and the history of India I was reading last night, my mind's now stuck on
"hand at the level of your eyes, monsieur!" and "Punjab lasso!".

Steve
Reply
Hmmm...
#7
First thought: if you don't put any limitations on it up front, it's far too easy to have enchanting ability go seriously Mary Sue. In particular, if
you're going on the raw combat modifiers, every time he makes something, that's a power-up for one of his friends above and beyond the improvement said
friend would be getting anyway.

Second thought: no soldier means no rocket launcher (judge), no intuitive grasp of basic tactics/small unit leadership (snake) and so forth.

Third thought: He may have had the punjab lasso, He may even have had magical powers, but the thing the Phantom was overwhelmingly good at was singing. That,
too, would come across, I think, in part.

Fourth thought: I'd think his connection with Faith would be, if anything, stronger. There's that whole "horribly beat on by the world"
resonance there.

Fifth thought: Phantom-Xander is likely not going to be as willing to tolerate his parents. This will likely mix with the "have to have some place
safe/calm to practice" thing.

Sixth thought: the fact that Xander is no longer "the normal one" is going to have a serious impact on the group dynamics of the later seasons.

No real strong feelings on romantic stuff, but I've always been pretty fond of the Xander/Faith dynamic. Also, if you decided to go with a plotline where
the Phantom was *not* as tamed as Xander thought he was (and that could go in all sorts of interesting places) the Phantom side might be able to fill in the
"resonates with the darkness while being helplessly in love" slot that spike had.

Good luck with the story, wherever you take it.
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