herotypical | ooc ↻ appointments & messages

ooc ↻ appointments & messages

❮ buffy, when i said you could slay vampires and have a social life, i didn't mean at the same time! ❯

catch-all appointments & messages post for

herotypical @

luceti; please title and date your top tag accordingly -- think of the ~~children~~timelines! [ written ], [ voice ] & [ action ] are all viable. the addition of funky and hip song lyrics is also welcome (and maybe a little encouraged).

ATTENTION -- looking for old threads? previous appointment posts can be found here and here.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"No nononono! What was that?!" She had his hat, now, but it wasn't what the pirate had wanted.

"What on earth are you doing?"

"Taking it," she explained of his hat; her voice was all coated over with that thick stubborn steel it sometimes seemed to grow out of nowhere.

"You could TAKE near anything, lass! I want you to maraud me! Qualitative difference."

Her fingers bit into the weather-beaten hat.

"F-fine. I..." Buffy pushed her way straight out of the hammock and shook his own hat at him with such fierce, overacted determination. "You! You should...empty your pockets?"

Tense heartbeats. "I mean -- you will be emptying your pockets. Quick...quick-like."

That sounded a little Jackish, didn't it? Demands instead of requests. Statements instead of questions.

"Heh. Not bad."

He was enjoying every second of it.

"I know. You should accost me. In the forest."

"Wh-what? Right now?"

Her mind dropped sharply off towards the worst of all the options available.

"Mmhmm. Accost me with great wickedness, Annie. Possibly you'll obtain all the rest of my clothing."

"But I'm..."

That was the point, wasn't it? It had always been his point. To maraud with her mind and not her muscles. And while it wasn't as though Buffy Summers was a mental slouch, she certainly rarely had the patience to talk someone out of their material goods.

"Okay. You got it. One foresty marauding coming right up. Wickedness a-plenty."

Oh jeez oh God oh Hell oh someone help her.

"Right! You go first! I'll give you a headstart, eh? And then I'll come down, innocent as can be -- ripe for the taking!"

He practically wriggled in anticipation of the fun.

This plan was weird. This plan was weird, right? It bordered on some kind of strange fantasy role-play and she had pitched this treehouse trip with some firm lines drawn in the sand only...only she'd neglected to speak those lines aloud.

So now she was climbing down a long long ladder she'd so recently climbed up and in all her fuss and fury, she'd neglected to take her crossbow.

And Jack was swinging down on a rope. He wanted this to be a proper marauding, and so had brought her crossbow with him, slung over a shoulder. She could steal that, perhaps. It would be fun.

They'd been missing so much fun lately.

Fun was the last thing on her mind. When she hit the springy, mossy ground below, her first priority was to snap a branch off a good, strong trees. But good, strong trees took strength in turn to disbranch. She managed it at length but it still took long enough to discourage her.

Still, she at least had something to throw at him when all of this went belly up. She twirled the short branch and ducked into a particularly thick stand of trees. She assumed, of course, that he'd take the ladder.

"Hmm hmmm hmmm," he hummed, striding out from the forest down the familiar trail to the lake. "Lovely niiiight for a stroooolllllll. Pretty and beautifullll! And safe!"

Marauder-baiting, that.

...Had she been wholly herself, this would've been hilarious. Light-hearted, even. Perhaps it would have an immense ability to heal some of this terrible rift. But as it was, Buffy merely sighed and leaned her forehead against a nearby tree's cool and jagged bark.

"Just do what he suggests," she whispered to herself. "To a point. Maraud. Nothing more. This doesn't have to go the way of every other time he's ever tried to teach you anything..."

(Dubious) pep-talk over, she pushed off the trunk and snuck her way parallel to the trail -- gaining ground on him.

He could FEEL himself being watched, and Jack loved every moment of it. Those green eyes, following him -- such good shivers.

"La lalala! Got meself a bow! Pretty little crossbow!"

Branch in hand, she gave him a good two minutes before she claimed the next few feet of path laid out before him.

"I think you'll find that that's going to be...my pretty...little...crossbow.

Soon."

She cleared her throat. She pointed her very terrifying stick very terrifyingly at him. Sorta.

Little did Buffy know, they were both being stalked. Stalked. Stalking. So fun. And soon, Spike would be here. Spike would stalk with her and stalk and kill and fire.

Pretty, pretty fire.

Bare feet made no sound on the muddy pine needles.

"Oh!" Jack was continuing to "act" the part of victim. He wanted her to feel strong. "Oh, unlucky, this! A fierce and predatory marauder!"

And poor little broken Buffy Summers couldn't sense a thing. Not that she would've been trying, anyway. Often times, she depended more on her reflexes than her senses. But nope, her instincts evaporated away in a little bubble exiled from her mind by the slimmest prospect of fun.

"That's exactly it." She shook her stick at him. Stepped forward. Gave his chest a playful little nudge. "Now. Hand over the bow before I get cross?"

Get it? 'Cause it was a crossb--oh, just hand over the damn thing!

Follow follow follow. Oh the slayer smelled sweet. Drusilla clicked her non-vampable teeth together. Sweet like Johnny-in-the-Pulpit.

Or that particular conditioner -- she made note to try it next time she lurked into the shop for supplies.

It was with a great grin that the vampire stepped out on the path behind Jack Sparrow. She didn't speak. She simply shadowed him, smiling over his shoulder at the slayer.

"Darling? You've a knack for words. Gorgeous knack. Anyone ever tell you that?"

Oblivious to what was behind him, Jack looked lovingly at Buffy. God, he adored her. The ground she walked on as well. All of it.

...The ridiculousness of the situation finally got to her. It chipped through her fear and discouragement. She smiled.

"Never quite like that, no. People tend to suggest it's a bit more knick-knack than kna--"

Joy drained out. She bled happiness -- it left her so fast and might as well have stained the ground she walked on. Her eyes went from crinkled-and-happy to wide-and-terrified.

Without thinking, she dragged her branch back into two hands and cracked it violently against an up-lifted knee. It didn't break. She tried again; the bark cut at her palms and the wood bruised her thigh. On the third attempt, it snapped into a jagged point.

"Get the hell over here!" She yelled -- at pirate or at vampire or at both, she couldn't quite decide.

Dru raised a razor-tipped hand. It could certainly cut through dreadlocks. It would HAVE to -- this one was far too hairy to eat otherwise.

That was when Jack took a step backward in surprise. It was such a sudden change that had come over her, and.....scary.

Not as scary, though, as the knife-edged feeling that pierced his shirt. There wasn't a great deal of pain at first. Just a little, but it blossomed and spread as his shirt became soaked.

Several long, heavy blond-tinged locks fell to the forest floor. One braid.

Jack fled to Buffy's side, raising the crossbow to his shoulder and turning to face his enemy as he did.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

1/2

2/2

no subject

1/2