This Roxyverse story was by our daughter Katherine. She's 17 now, but she was 15 when she wrote this. A little snippet of the life of Roxy the Vampire Slayer, before the Roxyverse really got going with the prophecies and the major slaughter. I haven't edited it at all apart from correcting an odd typo, and I think it beats all kind of hell out of the drivel that some of the 15-year-olds on ff.net churn out. Spike-free, I'm afraid.
My Life as ... a Slayer
(A Roxyverse story. Written by Katherine)
"So Roxy, what did you do in the holidays?"
"Nothing much: slayed some vampires, killed a few demons, saved the world. Y'know, the usual stuff."
Life is not easy for a young Slayer. Fact.
Life is not easy for any Slayer yes, but young people are generally expected to have a life. No one thinks it strange if older people spend all their time outside of work doing nothing worth talking about, because they don't. Well, apart from Jocasta. Teenage girls are expected to go out, meet people, watch movies, have a boyfriend, go to concerts, socialise, spend hours on the phone, watch TV, read magazines, and above all talk about this stuff with their friends. Sounds great. A lot better than a life of secrecy; declining offers to go out and apologising that you did not read that article in J17 or see Eastenders last night.
I am terrible to talk to and on the outside a bit of a bore - people don't like that. As such I don't really have any good friends outside of my scooby gang, the Roxettes, and those people didn't exactly chose to be my friends because of my dazzling conversational skills. The fact that I am strong, fit and good at PE without putting in the slightest effort doesn't help either. The would-be-Paula Radcliffes are so jealous I think they've put a bounty on my head. (Hope it's a decent amount, I mean evil super creatures try and kill me everyday - if a school kid managed it would be one hell of a big feat - someone quite useful to have on the team ... no, wait). However it does win the odd wolf-whistle but that just makes the would-be-Jordans hate me too. On the other hand no one's jealous of my grades in school - spending evenings saving the world rather than doing your homework really doesn't lead the way to A*s.
The few weak friendships I do have offer a refreshing break from slayage. The dull gossip of who-fancies-who is heaven next to the tedious discussions of battle strategies and demon anatomy, although comparing wounds or dissing vampire fashion do have their times. Slaying is sometimes relaxing but only if I've got my Walkman with me; one two three punch, one two three kick. The odd vamp even complements me on my singing: "You've got a good voice" "Thanks" ... 'In the end it doesn't even matter-er-er-er-er...' *stake*. I even enjoy it from time to time: the adrenaline rush, the destruction, the sense of accomplishment. Hey, who needs horror movies when you get to see all that blood and gore for free with that added DIY touch?
Keeping up with the latest trends is hell. Miniskirts? Heels? Pink and fluffy? They don't really lend themselves to a life of slaying. Why can't Stella McCartney try blood-coloured with rips and grass stains? There that's what I'm gonna be when I grow up: a fashion designer designing practical clothes for slaying; must have plenty of pockets for weaponry, be blood and/or muck colour and preferably be bullet/teeth/claw/everything-sharp-and-p
I do have a job now actually. I work in one of those mystical shops that sells crystals, incense, tarot cards and that lot. The things that are supposedly magic but really just make the owner look like they'll fall for anything - door-to-door salesmen have been known to lurk outside the shop and follow customers home. The next time I see one I think I might go out waving an axe and shouting 'Gert-off moi land!' That should be fun, but possibly illegal. *Note to self: check legality of threatening door-to-door salesmen with large pointy objects.* The sad fact however is that the shop is owned by my watcher, Jocasta, and is really just the cover up for our underground Scooby group. Hmmm that sounds quite cool actually - James Bond-style - the name's Quinn, Roxanne Quinn, double oh severed zombie limb…
Being the chosen one is scary, exciting and above all extremely lonely. Well it was before I met Teresa, Rosa and Gabriella and then Sally and before reading about Buffy, Faith and Kat. (Hmm I wonder if I can do the Watchers' Council under the Trades Description Act?) Now it's more like being part of an exclusive club, becoming less and less exclusive by the minute. Maybe we should get membership cards? Or for that matter calling cards:
You were slayed today at ......... hours by Roxanne Quinn
The weapon used was a ............
The Slayer, Roxanne Quinn, called today at ...... hours.
You were not in.
To arrange another meeting at a more convenient time ring this number ......
That would be useful! Slaying by appointment, then I could fit in homework and possibly even a social life! *note to self: make calling cards* Hmm… but it may lead to bureaucracy, and giving out a telephone number may not be a good idea, plus demons, vampires etc. are not known for their co-operation *note to self: do not make calling cards*
And then there's that whole 'hero' label - aren't heroes normally given some credit for their work? I mean I'm not asking for much - maybe interest from the press, an official biography, the odd phone call from the PM, Roxy action figures, film of my life, Roxy trading cards, star on Hollywood Boulevard, private jet... OK I don't think even Superman got that much. But how about some dosh? Y'know saving the world every other week should surely qualify for a wage? Yeah I could do a paper-round but damn, then the vampires might eat people. Oh well no loss - you won't pay? Then I won't slay. Ha! That might make them a bit more grateful. Well, I get some money from working in the shop, and what do I need to buy anyway? I don't exactly need money for cinema tickets do I?! Still a little compensation for stealing my life might be a nice good-will gesture.
Yep being a slayer both sucks and rules, well there's more sucking really, having blood-thirsty vampires as your mortal enemy and everything.
Yet still there are Potentials all across the world who want to have my life. And still I would not let them have it without a fight. Though it wouldn't be a very fair fight with the superhuman strength and all that...
I've spent hours today and yesterday installing Katherine's new computer. Everything was simple and straightforward, it's a fantastic system and it was pretty cheap too, but I hit two major stumbling blocks. The first was tuning in the TV card. I scanned and scanned but it wouldn't pick up any channels. Eventually I found the cause. She loathes any light showing in her bedroom at all when she wants to go to sleep, and so she sticks Blu-Tack over every single LED on equipment that is permanently on. She'd done the same on her Sky satellite box. It's not supposed EVER to be switched off; and so it took hours before I thought to take off the Blu-Tack and saw that the power was off, and it was no wonder that the scanning had failed to find a signal.
The second bottle-neck is incorporating it into the home network, but I was expecting that to be hard. At present her computer can connect to mine but in so doing it blocks me out of the Internet, and that's not something I can tolerate, so she's been taken off the network again. We might go over to Wireless for the whole house, the mix of Wireless and Ethernet that we've got at the moment is just too complicated.
And now at last I can get back to writing, a whole day behind where I'd expected to be. There might be more Speakerfic tonight, there might not, too early to tell yet.