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.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Rainbow shots? Once, before we leave?

Downgrade my half to something less strong and I'll stop by. [ vodka shots are reserved for when things are well and truly fudged, for her. ] I'm on the job again, after all. Shouldn't drink and dust.

Chocolate, then?

...Are you at your place? I could swing by.

I am. There are only a few things left for morning.

You can expect me sometime after my first sweep. Is ten-thirty too late?

No later, if you don't mind. I've a very early morning.

I'll do my best. If I don't show? Go ahead and assume that business got in the way.

[ and with that, she closes her journal. she doesn't mean to be unfriendly but...the cyclical nature of her enmity with drusilla has recently (finally) fully dawned on her and it's been keeping her in somewhat of a funk after the initial joy of the slay.

even still, she manages to knock on the door earlier than expected. quarter after ten. ]

He opens it and nods her inside. "Evening."

As ever, her scythe rests on her shoulder. Like a baseball player, lounging before her turn at bat. Or an itinerant with her bindle. Happily, all her marks and cuts from the last week and from Drusilla's vicious nails had healed to the point of invisibility. Deeper scars remain -- and these flashed in her mind as she glanced at Archie. A body, drained. Buffy's stance tightened and she walked stiffly inside.

"Hi. It's not quite summer yet. The nights are still chilly. I'm thinking the hot chocolate'll do me good."

He gestures to the dining table, where a pot of chocolate is set up with cups and a plate of cookies. "Cakes, as well?"

She sank into a chair. More tired than she had any right to be but unwilling to show it.

"You know me. I can't turn down sugar. From the bakery...?"

"I haven't had time for baking. Yes, they are from the bakery. I put them in the oven for a bit to warm them."

He sits across from her and pours first her cup, then his.

"And I hear there's a new apron in town..."

She was quick to pull her mug towards herself, lacing her fingers around its shape. Hugging it, almost.

"The baker? A young one, at that, but very good." He sips his chocolate. "He wasn't a bit puzzled when I described ship's biscuits to him, somehow. We have a good stock of them that won't spoil."

You can also build your house out of them.