( buffy sees what's written on the tin can — 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 — 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 — 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. )
( The nearby showers - and onlookers - drown out Buffy's stalk up straight up to Stefan. It's like she's played this game before with vampires from his world.
Sticky from food dye, Buffy's slayer strength holds him in place by his shoulder before landing a nice one-two, fist into his head and a kick that knocks him back a few paces. He sets his jaw, because it will heal, but apparently, that's what it's like to be hit by a slayer.
Unfortunately, his I didn't do this, routine is tired, and he hasn't had a good scrape, himself, in a while. And he has a lot of frustration in him )
Here I thought it was beneath a self-proclaimed vampire slayer to take out her petty frustrations. I'm not the one who exposed your little green line. And last I checked, my name isn't Koby, Riley, or Spike.
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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 — 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. )
no subject
Sticky from food dye, Buffy's slayer strength holds him in place by his shoulder before landing a nice one-two, fist into his head and a kick that knocks him back a few paces. He sets his jaw, because it will heal, but apparently, that's what it's like to be hit by a slayer.
Unfortunately, his I didn't do this, routine is tired, and he hasn't had a good scrape, himself, in a while. And he has a lot of frustration in him )
Here I thought it was beneath a self-proclaimed vampire slayer to take out her petty frustrations. I'm not the one who exposed your little green line. And last I checked, my name isn't Koby, Riley, or Spike.