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

"Jack?"

Buffy's attention homed in on her co-worker. Her subordinate, really, as she'd taken to considering him. It helped soothe her oft-ruffled feathers.

"Say the girl did inspire some kind of soul-deep improvement in your very self -- would you ever even admit it?"

The to me was implied.

Jack shrugged. "If something like that was to happen, I'd gladly tell you all about it in excruciating detail."

She found herself overcome by a cresting wave of honesty: "Well, I dunno about excruciating but -- yadda yadd yadda and should it ever happen? Yeah. A detail or two would be nice."

It's about as close as the Slayer could tread to saying this is what friends do can't we be friends?

He shook his head and tsked at her. "Buffy, I'm hurt. You make it sound like I'm some horrible, depraved individual in need of some moral compass to set me on the straight and narrow."

Here soundeth a smug little cough. More like a throat-clearing, really. A gentle ahem.

Edited 2013-07-28 01:13 (UTC)

"You know, maybe if you had a little more faith in me, we'd be much better friends."

"A healthy dose of skepticism does not a faithless friend make."

"So you do have faith in me."

"A scrap or two. Enough to get you hired, at least. Can we not make a thing out of it?"

"But I love things with you. It's the closest we get to having an actual thing. Only without all the wild and exploratory sex."

Her gaze narrowed, and she tried to determine the best way to tell him that he was dead wrong. It was a tough kind of task when most of her bones knew that he wasn't. Not that she was looking for proxy intimacy with Horner, but she did know the surrogate value of a good thing. After all, nearly every decent tie her life had started out as one.

"Who knew you were such a masochist," she retorted -- easily disparaging herself in order to disparage him.

"Well I am a quick healer," he answered while completely oblivious to any effort to disparage anyone.

"Self-repairing self-worth. How handy."

"When you're me, it's impossible to ever get depressed. I only ever have to look back at how amazing my life has been and it perks me right up."

As a woman who'd fought a long and bitter campaign against depression -- one she was still fighting, in many ways -- she couldn't help but feel the bite of envy. Just a little nibble.

"You're lying. You have to be lying. Everyone goes blue now and then. And I..." I've seen you in more contemplative states. But hat they ever been outright depression? She frowned.

"I did the blues once. That's how I picked up the harmonica." Because that was completely the same thing, after all. "I'm just too awesome to let the little things get me down."