Buffy Summers

Part of the 'New Orleans Fireflies' RPG group.

[rileybleu]

Buffy x Giles      ↳Studying for the SATs

[iflunkedthewritten]

Mardi Slay

So, Mardi Gras. Fancy shindig. Lots of dancing, even more booze. A big whatever in Buffy’s eyes because she’s working tonight, so don’t be shocked if you catch her with her party down.

It’s not her ten ‘till four job, either. Nope, this one requires Miss alter ego. She-who-hangs-out-in-cemeteries. Except she’s not hanging, she’s lurking, and this place? Courtyard, not a cemetery...

Either way, full slay mode activated. Beware creepy vampires. 

[originalbrat]

“What in the bloody hell are you going on about? Perhaps you should think about quitting the day job to see a real professional,” She was practically seething with rage at this point. Unsure of what kind of reference she’d used Rebekah was almost certain it was aimed to be an insult of sorts. “Or you know, lets just see how this goes… maybe you won’t have to do much thinking at all.” Subtle threats have now been made on behalf of team Mikaelson as she passes through the threshold and closes the door behind her.

“Oh goodie, so it appears we could have skipped the introductions then,” she responded with a wicked glint in her eyes. There was something about this girl that was familiar. The way she spoke so, certainly. Had she not been bent over the loss of her niece she could have really seen a potential spark between the two of them. Her sense of girl power was growing immensely within the short time frame she found herself in Buffy’s company “This isn’t some kind of test you nitwit. Now tell me, what else do you know about my family?” Her words came out slow and steady as her eyes remained locked on the blonde opposite to her; clearly she wasn’t going to dignify a real answer to the inquiry Buffy had in regards to her just showing up out of the blue. Rebekah had to find out all that she knew and decipher whether or not she had anything to do with the fact that Hope had gone missing.

[iflunkedthewritten]

Buffy would roll her eyes, but then she doesn’t want to be risk being called the likes of nit-wit a second time. Too much ow factor. "You know, busting into somebodies office like this and making with all kinds of big threats and interrogations, it’s sloppy.”

She slightly leans over her desk, hardly quaking in her stylish yet affordable boots, so just get to the point, already. “So why don’t you elaborate?”

[demxnmagnet-archive-blog]

A Watcher and A Slayer|Event

@iflunkedthewritten

“We should keep our eyes opened for vampire while we are here,” Xander said to Buffy as he stood next to her in the crowd for Mardi Gras. He already acquired a couple sets of beads. He was still fearful about all the vampire that might have been lurking in the shadows. He was even fearful about the drunks around. He had already seen one guy fall down in the crowd with a nasty wound on his arm. “Have you seen that Spike was lurking around? He’s not still creepily obsessed with you right?” he asked as he took a sip of his brew, trying to keep his mind off his work.

[iflunkedthewritten]

“So i’m told.” Bitter Buffy should probably just tell Xander flat out about her little run-in with Spike, but hey, guess she’s still feeling resentful over the whole no phone call, no heads up kind of thing, so she basically just doesn’t.

Sighing defeatedly, she comes to a halt, taking a small look around the crowd and all its hundreds of unfamiliar faces and Buffy mentally asks herself, how the hell’s a girl supposed to work like this? “You getting anything?”

[punishmentismyjob]

Mississippi Moonlight Spike | Buffy

@iflunkedthewritten

Spike stood on the bow of the ferry and leaned on the railing to look at the Mississippi river, watching the light play on the murky water as it headed in the directly of home.  His visit with Angel hadn’t exactly gone well, but then, when did it?  

He was really jonesing for a cigarette, but he was fresh out and his cash supply was waning.  That had been part of his reason for heading all the way to Algiers, maybe pick up an advance, but Angel had told him to wait.  Wait for what exactly?  It’s not like this gig paid well, or at least, not as well as it did when they were with Wolfram and Hart.

He heard a step behind him and a familiar perfume.  Lifting his head he muttered, “Buffy?”

[iflunkedthewritten]

Well, color Buffy surprised. She knows she isn’t seeing what she thinks she’s seeing, because if she was, then that would mean her eyes are really seeing Spike and if her eyes were really seeing Spike, then… Hey, anyone plan on jumping in with an explanation anytime soon?

No text, no phone call. Just a random cameo appearance and Buffy’s staring at Spike like she’s seeing stars. “Spike?”

[malecshappiness]

[livingentirelylarge-a]

                      It’s been three days since a fight in her club tore the door off the storage room hinges and Faith’s finally getting around to having it fixed. Or more accurately, she’s fixing it herself. It’s been like this all week, too. Two days of overdrawn drawers, fights and demons finding their way in with the crowd. On top of that her ledger’s not looking so hot.

       She’s got the door level, holding it there with the edge of her boot while she tries to tighten the hinge screws to the wall. Something’s gotta give, she can’t keep the club up without employees and there are probably asshats out there right this minute who are dancing in her club that ought to be standing, quietly, in line instead.

                                    So she’s not in the mood for a talking to from the all too familiar voice behind her, “Look who’s got herself lost?” Faith doesn’t turn around, sort of in the middle of something, “I’d ask what the hell you’re doing in my behind-the-scenes but I was wondering when you’d come snooping. If you’re gonna be in my way, best make yourself useful. Here, hold the door.”

[iflunkedthewritten]

No hello’s, no it’s good to see you’s. Just hold the door, which Buffy does and isn’t entirely sure why, so hey, must of been a reaction thing. “Yikes. Looks like someone really knows how to bust out the party piñata.”

And excuse you, Faith, but Buffy isn’t snooping. Well, she is. But it’s not crafty snooping. Just the… good ol’ usual regular snooping, which is totally different, okay? Totally. With raised brows, “Trouble in paradise?”

[runningfromthosedays]

Sam’s back ached. His feet ached. New Orleans was a lot bigger than it looked on the map and the cemeteries were huge so he was being research guy, sitting among stacks of books at a table with crappy lighting at a local library to give his muscles a rest. Getting out of the bunker, that was just a plus.

He honestly just had no idea what he was looking for. The underground rumor mills here were unhelpful at best. Demons and stuff, well they weren’t about to tell a hunter anything and the ones that didn’t know who he was… too paranoid to trust strangers. Which, probably smart but still. Cut Sam’s work out for him.

The book he was reading about the history of prominent New Orleans families was interesting but his attention was split because he had the weirdest feeling like someone else was in the genealogy room with him even though he was clearly alone. Sam looked up from his book for the umpteenth time, “Uh. Hello?”

[iflunkedthewritten]

Introducing Buffy, she-who-hangs-out-in-cemeteries. Except not tonight. Nope, tonight she’s breaking from the slayage and not so happily vacating in the land of research mode.

Mikaelsons. Who were they and what did they want? Friend or foe, Buffy hadn’t decided. Except that next level Harmony could give real life Harmony a run for her money, so there was that.

Either way, she’s rounding the corner now. With a mountain of books almost as tall as her that she didn’t have the intention on reading, and that’s when it all goes kablooey.

A copy of the ‘First Hybrid’ slides off the top, which wouldn’t be such a big deal if the table she couldn’t see to be not empty wasn’t occupied by someone about to receive a concussion, which she notices a tad too late. “Oh!”

Quick to place the rest of the books down, Buffy places a flat hand on the side of either cheek, not quite sure what to do with herself, so she supposes she’ll just stand there and look guilty instead. “I’m so… The books were too high, and then everything went bad.”

[iflunkedthewritten]

A Slayer walks into a bar // Starter 001.

[chaoticontrol-blog]

Why did he need to keep running across people who believed that talking to inanimate objects would be something he believed they did? It was clearly some kind of curse placed upon him. He briefly wondered if the two could have known one another. Odd people often chose odd friends. “I see.” 

Elijah does his best to reserve most of his judgement given their encounter has lasted no longer than a minute. “I do. Given your admiring of paneling, you clearly don’t.”

[iflunkedthewritten]

“One underestimates the power of a good panel admire.” Okay, Buffy’s all out of fresh excuses and a little too beat to think up another, so she guesses she’ll just give it to him straight. “Oh, I just suck at undercover.”

Sighing, she clasps and unclasps her hands, casually advancing a few slow steps towards him. “Actually... I know who you are. You’re an Original, right? Yeah, I got the memo.”

[buffythroughmyeyes-deactivated2]

[originalbrat]

@iflunkedthewritten

Rebekah took it upon herself to go in search of answers about her dear nieces disappearance. Since hearing of a slayer back in the sixteenth century none of her family had ever actually happened upon any. This wasn’t a surprise as most those she compelled hadn’t either. It was odd though, the profession this one so happened upon. After coming face to face with the brute of a brunette that owned the Bronze she found herself looking for the long-standing owner of the Chosen “one” title. It seemed something or other tipped that balance but she wasn’t one to linger on the specifics while honing in her listening skills to their private conversation in the back.

It seemed to drag on forever, and in that wait she’d gotten more than just a little hungry. “Oh thank heavens, I thought she’d never let up. Don’t worry… I’ll put the poor whiny git out of her misery on my way out. I’m Rebekah Mikaelson— by the way,” she said, using her thumb to wipe away the excess blood spilled from the secretary who formerly sat at the front desk when she compelled herself back ahead of countless students. “I’ve heard a lot about you… Bindy, was it? No matter, it’s not important.” The original shut the door behind herself as she passed the threshold to her office. “I’m looking to gather what you know about my family,” or possibly, what she’s taken from them. Rumors of the slayer, have so far not perceived her well. “And do try to remember love, I’m a STICKLER for details.”

[iflunkedthewritten]

Well, color Buffy surprised. One minute she’s balancing a pot full of various pens on her forehead in the privacy of her own office, and the next thing you know? They’re on the floor, she’s with company, and now? Apparently under interrogation. “Okay, next level Harmony, i’m gonna need you to slow down for a minute.”

Wait, did she say Mikaelson? Oh boy, this can’t be good. And in her work uniform? Le sigh. Buffy stands up in front of her office chair, “Mikaelsons. Yeah, i’ve heard of you guys. Renowned killers, original vampires, created the first hybrid... How am I doing so far?”

[iflunkedthewritten]

A Slayer walks into a bar // Starter 001.

[chaoticontrol-blog]

Obviously Elijah spends far too much time in that bar, but when everything goes to absolutely Hell around getting a drink…or two doesn’t sound that bad. In fact, as he puts down another hundred dollar bill so the bartender just keeps him happy it seems to be a rather good idea.

It’s that whole reason it’s far too easy to see the way the blonde who walks through the doors is on the newer side. But the concept of what one does when they come to a place like this is rather clear. “Typically, one orders a drink,” he begins speaking, looking over out of the corner of his eye for just a moment, “rather than standing there looking lost.”

Maybe he should have started with hi like a normal person, but he’s never been quite normal.

[iflunkedthewritten]

“Huh? Lost? Oh. No, i’m just... admiring the panelling. You know, this is quality panel work.” Except she isn’t, but good ol’ Buffy here’s always been a sucker for undercover and she’s going to keep that to herself this time.

She awkwardly leans one arm up against the wall, smiling sheepishly. “So... Come here often?”

[iflunkedthewritten]

When word got out about a girl named Faith owning a nightclub here in New Orleans, Buffy was less than thrilled. Brunette, stronger than she looks, always been better at show than tell... Sound familiar?

It does, and where on one side there’s the mental sound of Giles in her ear saying how this could all be a coincidence, there’s a Buffy on the other explaining to him that there’s no such thing. Along with the leprechauns.

Still, all these faces inside a busy crowd later and there’s still no sign of her sister slayer. And if the Faith she knows isn’t out here being the life and soul of the party, then her second guess is she’s out back having a smooch-a-thon with some twinky from the audience. I mean, there had to be a back bit, right?

“Excuse me, annoying statue person.”

[iflunkedthewritten]

A Slayer walks into a bar // Starter 001.

Sorry, students of St Augustine, but Buffy’s office hours are ten ‘till four. However, if you’re experiencing problems concerning blood, death and horror, then give her a call on... Okay, now it was just getting corny.

Still, it had a kind of professional, domesticated kick to it, didn’t it? Everything she wasn’t right now, while exploring some old bar that goes by the name of Rousseau’s - run down, smelly; a painful contrast to her brand new shiny black jacket and already she can feel a couple of trampy supernatural nasties giving her the look.

How’s that expression go? Having eyes too big for your stomach?

[maze-chloe]

                                                                           But you’re… you’re just a girl.                                                 That’s what I keep saying.