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Wolf Tales
"only a man with chaos inside can give birth to a dancing star"
Wait until it is night before saying that it has been a fine day. -French Proverb

Everyone knows Murphy's law where if stuff can go bad it will and usually in really creative ways. We used to have 'Sunnydale's law' where if you were stupid enough to say something went right, or how could it be worse then Fate took it and ran with it.

Seriously, you said anything like that and it was instant jinx time. It was probably just part of the charm of living on our own Hellmouth.

Growing up there you just don't realize how strange things are until you move somewhere else. It takes a while to get used to the idea outside of Sunnydale you can make casual comments like that and not get the instant Fate slap upside the head.

I wonder if anyone else still cringes when they hear 'at least it's not...fill in the blank' besides me?
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"You're the werewolf, shouldn't you be able to tell us how to survive in the woods?" It was the girl from the trio of people he was trying to travel with in Tibet. Oz had known she was going to be a pain in the ass from the moment they met.

"Werewolf from a large urban area, my experience in woods is a one hour nature hike in cub scouts." And the scout leader had called it off early because it was too hot and he had a date. Camping was not exactly Oz territory.

"So, we're travelling with someone who can't protect us and can't find his way in the woods. Great, what use were you again?" She had her hands on her hips and the elaborately made up eyes were narrowed as she glared at him.

Oz knew better than to try and debate, they had decided to come along with him on their own after all. Maybe she'd remember that on her own but if he pointed it out he was going to get a tantrum of Cordy-esque proportions.

Instead he shrugged without a word and slung his guitar case across his back with the pack he was carrying. There was a week until the full moon and he wanted to be away from these people before that happened. No sense eating little miss trendy over there when he had an excuse.

They stopped to rest near a creek. It was one of the guides they were supposed to look for to reach the village where he was leaving the rest of the travellers behind to continue on looking for the monks he'd been told about.

It was a scene that looked like it was straight out of one of those nature paintings. Damp moss and the tangy smell of fresh water surrounded them. Oz looked at their surroundings and expected to feel something, or anything, with the wolf inside. There was the same feeling he always got in anything approaching wilderness, the vague feeling of wanting to be somewhere you could plug in an amp or have a shower.

Apparently the wolf liked civilization better too.

Muse Oz
Fandom BtVS and AtS
word count 360
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I always did the desert island disc thing. You know, picking which music you could have with you if that was all you were going to get to listen to forever, I always figured a guitar would be better though. You couldn't bring anything but the disc or the guitar and that makes both pretty useless. No radio and the disc is just something shiny to hang like a windchime. No extra strings and picks and after a while the guitar is a fairly non functional clubbing device instead.

After really thinking about it I'd bring Buffy Summers with me to the island. One thing I noticed about Buff, even early on when I was still fuzzy on the whole slayer and scoobies role in things, was that if she sets her mind to it there's a pretty short list of what she can't do.

So if I was going to be on a deserted island needing the whole survival thing and possible escape I'd bring Buffy.
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What would I do if I was temporarily turned into a child? Wow, hard to even remember the whole time as a kid thing. I don't think I was that much different as a kid, except you know shorter than I am now. Possibly much geekier, the whole red hair and freckles thing just does not go over well until a certain point in your life.

I think what I'd normally do is follow the things I used to do as a kid but then I'd have to pretend Sunnydale wasn't a big hole in the ground with possible exits into China. Hey, we're pretending aren't we?

The day would start with walking to the corner 7-11 and checking out the comics on the spinning rack. They don't really have those much anymore but they were very cool to look through. Check out one whole row top to bottom and spin just a little and look, all new books to look at. May not seem like much anymore but when you're under 10 it's kind of magic. Then buy a couple with the change I've scraped up along with a big slurpee and immediately go to sit under the hedges and hide out while they get read at least twice.

That part was key because my folks like all parents had this whole if you're sitting you must need chores thing going for them.

Really I don't think I'd plan much other than hope I wasn't really a werewolf then and that if I was it wasn't the full moon because tiny tot werewolves are sometimes less than careful about the whole biting thing.

Muse - Oz
Fandom - BtVS, AtS
Word count 272
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Oz never knew he was doing it unless someone pointed it out to him. And if they did he would glance at his fingers with mild interest and a soft 'huh' and stop for a few minutes. At least until his attention wandered to something else again and his fingers freed of the mind's influence would start to move again.

His fingertips plucked phantom music from every surface they brushed against. Edges of books, sides of tables, hems of fabric, they were all plucked with silent cords to echo the notes in the back of his mind. The callouses on fingertips built up from years of contact with metal strings made whispering noises as toughened skin tried to pull music from things not meant to make it.

When Oz was ten his parents had noticed the music in his restless fingers and gave him his first guitar. It was a small white electric that had died an honorable death five years later fending off a mugger on his way home from Devon's. Although he later realized that the mugger had most likely been a vampire since most of Sunnydale's living crooks were eaten in back alleys before they could commit crimes. If it was a vampire it was an even more honorable death.

It had been replaced by a red and white guitar whose strings pulled forth deeper sounds than Oz's first guitar. It's tones haunted him in class and while he slept leaving half of his mind trying to learn what new sounds he could coax from it.

When he left Sunnydale the second time the music died for a time with his heart. A habit he hardly even knew he had was suddenly gone and the stillness of his fingers kept dragging his mind back to the pain he just wanted to leave behind.

When a wolf is injured it goes to ground and waits to either die or get better. Oz buried his guitar under piles of clothes in the back of his van and broke the knob off his radio when it hurt too much to listen.

The day he made his first phantom chords against the edge of a diner table while waiting for his greasy fries he knew his healing had finally begun.
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It's a perfect sunny day in California. You know those days that really are kind of absent but everyone thinks we have every day? the sun is out but it's about 75 degrees and not of the scorching variety. We didn't do a lot of daytime activities in Sunnydale what with the helping Buffy slay patrol. Plus I think being in a band it sort of made it almost a law that I had to be up all night and shun the light of day.

You know come to think of it I'm surprised there aren't more vampire bands. maybe the pyrotechnics are a scare factor for the undead taking the stage.

Anyway there's the perfect sunny day, there's no classes, no monsters, no apocalypse to be researching. it's just total down time relaxing time.

And there's Willow.

We lay together on the grass and she tells me that the clouds look like a Fyarl demon and I make fun of her for seeing demons in the clouds. But really the fact that she can do it and sound all happy and innocent about it...like the blood and the pain hasn't ever touched her in a lasting way...it makes me hope that she can keep it forever.

That's all really. Sun, clouds and quiet talking together. I think I could do that forever.

Muse Oz
Fandom BtVS/AtS
Word count 235
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And Kara making me coffee the other morning made me smile.

After I brushed my teeth to her satisfaction anyway.
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I actually met a mummy once. Well sort of, I saw my friend Devon drooling over her at a dance while we were on stage singing. Not that it meant anything special that he was drooling. Devon was pretty much in that mode over anything female. Anyway turns out as long as they're properly fed Mummy's are surprisingly hard to spot in a crowd.

You know except this one because she was hot and attracted the lust factor of the lead singer. So we spotted her.

Of course I was too busy looking at a certain red-head in an eskimo costume for quality inspection time. Plus I didn't know that she was a mummy since she was supposed to be a foreign exchange student.

Only in Sunnydale would we import monsters under the whole exchange of education thing.

So, if you overlook the lack of face to face time I met a mummy once. Plus I heard the whole story about how she tried to suck the life out of Xander and others a bunch of times whenever anyone brought up the Xander demon attraction factor.

It's possibly I have strange friends.

Muse Oz
Fandom BtVS/AtS
Word Count 179
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When you try your best but you don't succeed
When you get what you want but not what you need
When you feel so tired but you can't sleep
Stuck in reverse.

I'll never forget the look in her eyes when I grabbed her arm. Tara hadn't committed any crime other than being there for Willow when I ran away and I will never forget how pale her skin was and how fast her heart beat.

I went away to learn to control the beast inside of me. Only it hadn't worked the way I thought it would. Instead of controlling it all the time and only changing at the full moon I'd released the wolf to be free on any day and not just under the silver light of the moon.

I gave up everything to learn control. I thought I wanted to know my wolf better but I wanted Willow. I learned control but I lost her. Not exactly a good trade.

I also won't forget being tortured with electricity over and over until the wolf took over. I was in that cage so tired from turning again and again before I dragged myself back from the edge into my humanity again. So tired and not able to sleep because whenever I closed my eyes I wasn't sure if I'd wake up with skin or fur.

Two things I will always remember and hold onto so I don't forget the more important things. The look of terror inspired by me, and what will happen if I ever get caught again.

So I keep moving. I keep hunting.

I got control over myself but I don't have a home. Getting what you want isn't the same as getting what you need.

And that sucks.
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