Employee of the month is a joke, right?
Also, I guess we're in the same line of work again.
Also, I guess we're in the same line of work again.
[ The morning before Buffy's first shift at the Hex Club, an envelope finds its way to her door. Inside is a gold pin in the shape of a hexagon, as well as a note: ]
Buffy,
Welcome to the Hex Club.
I look forward to working with you.
β Silco
* For clarity's sake: The pin is merely a gift, not an expected part of your daily dress.
( it's late. damon is out cold. (and not dead, he reminds himself. he's not dead.) but damon will want to kill him.
he's going to deal with the fallout tomorrow. but for now, he needs to minimize damon's enemies. enemy. singular. he hopes. he didn't hear about damon hurting others. accidentally. )
Buffy, this is Stefan Salvatore, Damon's brother. You need to know he wasn't in his right mind when you found him. He's not going to give you or anyone else any more trouble.
he's going to deal with the fallout tomorrow. but for now, he needs to minimize damon's enemies. enemy. singular. he hopes. he didn't hear about damon hurting others. accidentally. )
Buffy, this is Stefan Salvatore, Damon's brother. You need to know he wasn't in his right mind when you found him. He's not going to give you or anyone else any more trouble.
hi, is this buffy?
i'm melissa. [ and realizing after a moment that without context, introducing herself means nothing, she quickly adds: ]
if i have the right person, i think you went back into the fire and got my hat?
i'm melissa. [ and realizing after a moment that without context, introducing herself means nothing, she quickly adds: ]
if i have the right person, i think you went back into the fire and got my hat?
( stefan's not looking for a fight like he wasn't playing jason voorhees, but he didn't react fast enough and now he's covered in red food dye. someone got the drop on him, a vampire, because he was preoccupied with his own drama. his best friend is now here. he solidified whatever alliance he has with klaus and isn't calling it anything else in his mind, though it does feel more... significant. just like caroline's disappointment. it feels significant. it is significant. how can't she be between his actions back home and his actions here.
he stalks past the bonfire, and a few people still up, over to the public showers. kicking off is shoes, he angrily unzips his leather jacket, and tears it off himself.
stefan looks like a murder scene. lucky it isn't triggering. )
he stalks past the bonfire, and a few people still up, over to the public showers. kicking off is shoes, he angrily unzips his leather jacket, and tears it off himself.
stefan looks like a murder scene. lucky it isn't triggering. )
( buffy sees what's written on the tin can β the front part, not all the calories and gunk on the back. one vampire already on thin ice, coated in the red stuff vampires are always messing around in. angry heat flushes up her chest, and instincts she almost feels like she was born into take a hold of her. she might be bad at dating, at choosing partners, of knowing where to set her sights βΒ but beating on vampires? that she can do. with aplomb.
of course, the stake wouldn't make a difference. he'd just come back. buffy claps a hand on his shoulder and spins him around, grinning cherry pie sweet at him, hair drawn back in girlish pigtails. )
Well, well. Extra ketchup on your hot dog? You're a messy eater, Stefan.
( however β he can be a deserved punching bag, for awhile. buffy slams a fist immediately against his jaw, cracking his head to the side with an iron fist of strength. she follows it up, kicking at his stomach. )
of course, the stake wouldn't make a difference. he'd just come back. buffy claps a hand on his shoulder and spins him around, grinning cherry pie sweet at him, hair drawn back in girlish pigtails. )
Well, well. Extra ketchup on your hot dog? You're a messy eater, Stefan.
( however β he can be a deserved punching bag, for awhile. buffy slams a fist immediately against his jaw, cracking his head to the side with an iron fist of strength. she follows it up, kicking at his stomach. )
i kinda wanna crawl in a hole and die but iβm fineeeee. regular thursday!
( everyone needs to either forget how to read immediately, or stop taking buffy seriously. sheβs just goofing! everything is peachy. )
what about you? any cuties at the tent?
of the fuzzy kind, please. iβm SO sick of boys.
( everyone needs to either forget how to read immediately, or stop taking buffy seriously. sheβs just goofing! everything is peachy. )
what about you? any cuties at the tent?
of the fuzzy kind, please. iβm SO sick of boys.
( buffy finds, she's a lot better suited to being the corpse than the mourner. it's her mother's cold body all over again βΒ it's replaying the things she could've done differently, it's acting like giles will spring up and make her tea any moment now. it's the deadly quiet of the world, when there isn't a watcher explaining the differences between ancient gods between the sounds of crusty old book pages being turned. )
they better
( rather than focus on That β )
you saw him?
they better
( rather than focus on That β )
you saw him?
Forgot we were all sent to our card corners, ignore the bat signal to a conversation you can't get to.
But, real question.
You were close with Giles and I was close with Cas, though that wasn't common knowledge to most people, and Sam says she was close with Will Graham.
You don't think people adjacent to us were targeted because we almost geared up against the hallucinating king of the vampires, do you?
Real sorry about Giles, too.
But, real question.
You were close with Giles and I was close with Cas, though that wasn't common knowledge to most people, and Sam says she was close with Will Graham.
You don't think people adjacent to us were targeted because we almost geared up against the hallucinating king of the vampires, do you?
Real sorry about Giles, too.
Thanks for at least not taking personal credit for Cas.
( he's over it. he's over everyone. but. now he has -- another vote since he pulled armand. even though he called him to the mat. )
I don't know if you're covering for each other, or whatever, but do you actually think August could've done that to him.
( he's over it. he's over everyone. but. now he has -- another vote since he pulled armand. even though he called him to the mat. )
I don't know if you're covering for each other, or whatever, but do you actually think August could've done that to him.
@doublebluff and u def didn't see me put this in the wrong inbox first π
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
temujackie
2025-10-08 04:16 am (UTC)(link)
i don't know what you and august are doing, but you should change your vote to saber
[ The world is cold and grey when he wakes. It takes some time, recognition filtering slowly through the layers of stillness, life seeping back into his body. Gradually, he becomes aware that he's lying on his back and looking at the cloudy sky overhead. There are people around him, the shades of buildings in his peripheral vision, and a deep ache is building in his stiffened muscles. As soon as he notices it, the discomfort becomes overwhelming; he has to move, to dissipate it. When he twitches his hands, something fragile breaks around his wrists, falling away.
He shifts on the chilly cobblestone, groaning hoarsely. Pieces of paper and dried flowers slide off his chest as he sits up. The view he gets is unfamiliar -- strange people moving around a stony town square, many of them clearly upset and agitated. Medieval-style cages swing overhead; there are harsh cries and wails. For a few moments, he just sits there, struggling to remember who he is and what he's supposed to be doing.
Then, suddenly, he remembers. Not everything exactly, but one important thing -- one important person, warming his memories like a sunbeam. A fond and knowing smile. Soft hazel eyes. Oh, Giles.
With a noise of animal pain, he lurches up onto his feet, staggers unsteadily, then starts pushing his way through the crowd, ignoring the cries and hands reaching for him. None of them matter, not until he's seen her, until he knows she's alive and safe. He calls for her in a croaking voice, stumbling onwards, the shambling undead. ]
Buffy? Buffy!
He shifts on the chilly cobblestone, groaning hoarsely. Pieces of paper and dried flowers slide off his chest as he sits up. The view he gets is unfamiliar -- strange people moving around a stony town square, many of them clearly upset and agitated. Medieval-style cages swing overhead; there are harsh cries and wails. For a few moments, he just sits there, struggling to remember who he is and what he's supposed to be doing.
Then, suddenly, he remembers. Not everything exactly, but one important thing -- one important person, warming his memories like a sunbeam. A fond and knowing smile. Soft hazel eyes. Oh, Giles.
With a noise of animal pain, he lurches up onto his feet, staggers unsteadily, then starts pushing his way through the crowd, ignoring the cries and hands reaching for him. None of them matter, not until he's seen her, until he knows she's alive and safe. He calls for her in a croaking voice, stumbling onwards, the shambling undead. ]
Buffy? Buffy!
( there are days, and there are nights without giles, and buffy β she does her best. people are kind to her, offering their sympathies and promises of vengeance, but it's hard for her heart to be into the responses, to muster up any strength to really explain how she feels. when people go noble, buffy goes quiet. and when people go smart, buffy goes self-loathing. this whole game, lacking her slayer powers, having giles taken from her early on βΒ it defeats her like glory never could. she still believes what she told spike, sobbing in his arms after making august vote for her, i think i give up. i think i'm done.
she's not useful when all the tools at her disposal are taken away. getting up has been the extent of her courage most days, especially today, where there's something different in the air. a full week gone and another round of death on the table, but βΒ but β
he doesn't have to wait for her. buffy hears his voice like birdsong in spring, like something is thawing her open, and runs to him like she intends to plow him over and take them both to the ground. buffy stops herself just a step away, eyeing him. remembering. her own death had taken several months to reverse, and she'd spent what felt like forever in the warm embrace of heaven, or some other good place, in the interim. her eyes get watery, blinking, trying to spot the differences to him now, trying to read whatever she left unsaid in between the tension of his expression. )
Giles β
( after a beat, she reaches up, soft hands on his cheeks, fanning out to touch more of him, to drop the points of her fingers on one hand to the tender ridges of scars on his neck. there's a moaning squeak in her throat, and she bites her lip, before hooking the back of his neck and drawing herself into him, hugging him carefully. )
I'm right here, it's okay. You're βΒ you're gonna be okay. ( advice from one who knows, ) Just take it slow. You don't have to say anything. We're gonna go back to the house, okay? Just you and just me, so I can get a good look at you.
( so no one eavesdrops and uses it as fodder for some stupid accusation β so she can figure out how giles really is, without feeling guilty for the surrounding dead bodies. it's a plan, and buffy likes plans, so it's happening. she takes his hands gently in hers, and pulls him along. )
she's not useful when all the tools at her disposal are taken away. getting up has been the extent of her courage most days, especially today, where there's something different in the air. a full week gone and another round of death on the table, but βΒ but β
he doesn't have to wait for her. buffy hears his voice like birdsong in spring, like something is thawing her open, and runs to him like she intends to plow him over and take them both to the ground. buffy stops herself just a step away, eyeing him. remembering. her own death had taken several months to reverse, and she'd spent what felt like forever in the warm embrace of heaven, or some other good place, in the interim. her eyes get watery, blinking, trying to spot the differences to him now, trying to read whatever she left unsaid in between the tension of his expression. )
Giles β
( after a beat, she reaches up, soft hands on his cheeks, fanning out to touch more of him, to drop the points of her fingers on one hand to the tender ridges of scars on his neck. there's a moaning squeak in her throat, and she bites her lip, before hooking the back of his neck and drawing herself into him, hugging him carefully. )
I'm right here, it's okay. You're βΒ you're gonna be okay. ( advice from one who knows, ) Just take it slow. You don't have to say anything. We're gonna go back to the house, okay? Just you and just me, so I can get a good look at you.
( so no one eavesdrops and uses it as fodder for some stupid accusation β so she can figure out how giles really is, without feeling guilty for the surrounding dead bodies. it's a plan, and buffy likes plans, so it's happening. she takes his hands gently in hers, and pulls him along. )
Last week, you believed you had the strength to bisect Homelander. You didn't stand up for yourself when August named you, only named him right back.
Do you still believe yourself capable of beheading someone this week?
Do you still believe yourself capable of beheading someone this week?
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