ooc ↻ appointments & messages

[herotypical]

❮ 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 childrentimelines! [ 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.

Comments

[chikaidestroyer]

[He turns his attention back to Buffy when he sees her stir, remaining seated as she climbs to her feet. When it's not immediately apparent that something is different, he raises a brow at her -- and then stands when she requests as much.

As he sets his journal aside and dusts at his jacket, he speaks, allowing a note of curiosity to his voice.]

Did the ritual work?

[herotypical]

...Hmm? Oh. Uh-huh. [ her voice is distant. distracted. and as far as she is concerned, albert's presence seems almost secondary to the wispy realities of the spell. she barely hears his words when her ears are filled with the sound of pounding blood and hot smoke. before now, she never realized that smoke could even have a sound. but here she is, hearing it.

the slayer reaches out but doesn't quite touch the space above his clavicle. although the entire man seems to skip and shudder like a paused vhs tape, it's from this point and emanating down his arm that presents as eerily still. under such heady enchantment, it seems as though the normal glitches out and the abnormal resolves itself into a kind of clarity.

buffy frowns. the shoulder; the arm; the hand. all of it is additionally devoid of colour -- all except the centre of his glove, where a dim light pulses. and so, at the last moment, her attention is diverted from the arm as a whole and she grabs impulsively for the light, only belatedly noticing its presence in two other spots: albert's opposite hand and his forehead. ]

Oh my God. There's...there's something else?

[chikaidestroyer]

[The distant quality to Buffy's voice is apparent with the way she responds, and his brows knit together almost questioningly. But she had responded in the affirmative, so he would not say anything else immediately.

His eyes follow her eyes once he notices they are roaming, trying to keep track of what they are looking at. There is no wariness in how he holds himself; if not for the way his left arm would occasionally tense up, there was really no way to tell that there was something wrong with that part of his body. Of course, his general health had suffered because of the curse, but that was ... well, unsurprising in itself.

He tilts his chin upward when that hesitant question is asked. Something else?]

What do you mean?

[herotypical]

Your arm -- [ she allows that concession, sweeping a hand across that portion of his body. ] It's like there's little of you left in it. [ her voice comes slowly, like thick through fog or tapioca pudding. ]

Except for here -- [ his hand ] -- which matches here [ his other hand ] and here. [ on her tippy toes, she gently raps a knuckle against his forehead. leaning in to reach it and bracing herself with a flattened palm against his solar plexus. ]

[chikaidestroyer]

That's... [He has to slide one foot back slightly to brace himself as Buffy leans on him, and he can't help but blink a few times when she knocks at his forehead. She still managed to find ways to surprise him.]

That would make sense. Those are points where my world's magic are contained. I suppose the curse cannot touch them, so they remain intact.

[herotypical]

[ although she speaks softly, her face betrays a mixture of fascination and suspicion: ] I didn't realize you had any mojo at all...

[chikaidestroyer]

I did mention there is magic I can use from my world. [In the form of scrolls. Runes were a completely different matter.] These are ... runes that become embedded in the skin.

[He reaches up with his good hand to rub lightly at his forehead, as if it that had done more harm than it actually did.]

[herotypical]

Y-yeah, but...[ she takes a swift step back -- dilated pupils fixed on him. a hand still raised. ] It's in you. That's a whole new level of...

[ a soft sigh. ] You're still human, right?

[chikaidestroyer]

[That is worth a blink. And a raised brow. Was that her concern?]

Of course. I can remove them if I need to. [...] Most of them, at least. I'm restricted by the amount of ... containers I have.

[Containers. Yes, that seemed like a term that could be used without further definition.]

[herotypical]

[ for a moment, she sways on her feet. focus on the curse, summers. but it seems so impossible to haul her racing mind of the subject of these...glows. these magicks. these... ] Containers?

[chikaidestroyer]

[Buffy's swaying derails Albert from answering her question, and he drops his hand to her shoulder.]

Is this really the time for these questions? You are still under the effects of your spell.

[herotypical]

I'm fine. You, on the other hand...

[ the arm. ]

[chikaidestroyer]

[There's a skeptical frown on his face, but he allows the topic to return to his hand-- his arm. He moves it deliberately, flexing the cursed arm through its full range of motion with some difficulty.]

Yes. It's gotten worse since I originally told you about it. Raine can keep its progress at bay normally, but there are ... other things that worsen it.

[herotypical]

...Other things?

[ his pause alarms her. ]

[chikaidestroyer]

Stress. Emotional reactions. [He gives Buffy a wry look, as if expecting a comment from her on that front.] The mission and draft in recent months took their toll.

[herotypical]

[ she obliges, because it's expected of her: ] You? Emotional? Hah. [ but her voice is distant and still distracted. jumping through humourous hoops. ]

[chikaidestroyer]

Hn. [A slight shake of the head, followed by a sigh.] That is the curse. I know I'm not the only one inflicted with it, but there's little that can be done concerning that; the other who was inflicted with the wound with me is over in Vaskoth. [And there was also Rudy, whose wound was looking quite similar to his.] What little I have heard since that draft is that an applied Shift would not heal her wound.

[...At least, not without some worrisome effects he really didn't want to consider for himself.]

[herotypical]

[ she blinks hard -- the sepia tones are swimming. running. blurring. ]

With no hope of you two able to collaborate...Jeez. I -- [ she shakes her head. a hand flies to her brow. ] Sorry. One sec. I need to sit down.

[chikaidestroyer]

[The deeper frown returns at Buffy's words, and he takes hold of her shoulder -- to guide her to the chair he had vacated.]

You do not need to hold on to the spell anymore, do you? Does it fade on its own?

[They seem like unhelpful questions to ask now, when she is already feeling this way.]

[herotypical]

It fades. Should fade. Soonish. Could you...

[ a beat. she crumples into the seat. ] Could you get me a glass of water?

[chikaidestroyer]

[He nods, though he's fairly certain she's too distracted to notice.]

Close your eyes and try to relax. I'll be right back.

[He'll only wait a moment for a response from Buffy before he heads off in the direction of her kitchen.]

[herotypical]

...Aye, aye, Cap'n.

[ she sounds just on the edge of loopy as her head drops into her hands. god, it's been forever since she's worked magic like this. and she was never as good as willow was when willow was still a beginner. buffy holds a hand to her nose -- fearing blood. ]

[chikaidestroyer]

[It takes Albert a few minutes to pick his way through the kitchen and find a glass to bring to Buffy, but he's soon returning to the room with a glass of cold water. He patiently stands by her, guiding the glass to her hand in case her vision is impaired at this point.]

Thank you for your efforts.