Nineteen Bells: [WRITTEN/ACTION/VOICE]

[simplestgift]

[Filtered from known villains and Grell, 100% unhackable]

[Written in a disguised hand, with the picture obscured.]

To anyone who is new, I would like to let you know that if, for any reason, you feel unsafe in your own home, you may go to the Welcome Center and ask to be placed with someone known to be safe until you are back on your feet. There does not have to be a reason--perhaps you were kidnapped recently or someone is threatening you. You do not need to tell why.

That said, I am in need of more women as volunteers. If any of you have a spare bed, your help would be most welcome. Even if you can be dispatched as a bodyguard, we would be glad of your assistance. A trusted member of the community must be able to vouch for you.

[/Filter]

[Tonight Archie will be waiting tables at Cloud 9. When he gets off, he will take an unusually long time coming home. At some point, he'll be perched on one of the docks on the ocean, staring blankly out to sea, oblivious to the world.

There isn't really one specific reason. It's everything, really, from the draft to William's disappearance. Archie is as bottled as they come, and...

Bottles.

Around one in the morning, a gunshot and shattering glass is heard. This is because Mr. Kennedy has set up a line of empty bottles from the night club on the fountain and is using them for target practice. Wine, beer, as long as it's empty and glass it gets used. If you are having difficulty sleeping because you keep hearing gunshots and shattering glass every thirty-one seconds (gotta take time to reload), this may be why.

For housemates, he'll be at close to three in the morning, looking like he's gotten a little bit of something out of his system.

He will then, late at night, make a voice post.]

If anyone would like to play a game of whist during whatever you call your midday meal tomorrow, you would be welcome. I cannot vouch for my cooking, but I'll make a game attempt.

Comments

[herotypical]

[ she catches it with a look. ]

What? You're gonna sulk at me for doing my duty now? What if it'd been anyone else doing the same damn thing in the middle of the square?

[ then, after a beat: ] Alternatively? Who peed in your cornflakes this morning?

[simplestgift]

I'm surrendering, Buffy. Unconditionally. Accept it or refuse it, but don't tell me it was duty.

[herotypical]

Oh. So now I just walk in on make-shift shooting ranges for the fun of it, huh?

See this? [ she lifts her scythe. ] Patrolling. Me. That's what I'm doing. And stupid dutiful Buffy came running from the whole other side of the village terrified that something was going down. That someone was getting attacked.

So don't tell me it wasn't duty.

[simplestgift]

I surrender again. [Mostly because he doesn't want to argue this.] There's a big damn wolf in the woods that threatened if I should come back. There are only businesses round here, not houses, and no passers by this late at night.

[herotypical]

[ wordless. buffy simply pointed at house thirty seven. ]

[simplestgift]

I wasn't aiming there!

[herotypical]

Just because you weren't aiming there doesn't mean that it's guaranteed not to get hit.

[ perhaps she's a little dramatic about this fact; however, tara had been killed by a stray bullet intended for her. it left a small neurosis. ]

[simplestgift]

[As he was killed by a stray bullet intended for Horatio. Maybe he and the witch do have something in common.] Dammit, woman, I know where I'm putting a bullet, it's my one goddamned talent on this goddamned earth.

[herotypical]

[ she stiffens. woman. it's what she is; not who she is. ]

Buffy. [ she corrects and cares little for gun talents. they're untrustworthy things no matter whose hands their in. ]

[simplestgift]

Buffy. [It's spoken more softly. He actually looks berated now, as he's released a little steam.]

[herotypical]

[ silence for the better part of a minute before: ] Thank you.

[simplestgift]

[His eyebrows go up.] Perhaps I stopped being an ass [by which he means the beast of burden] but that's hardly worthy of thanksgiving. [He pulls a rag out of his pocket and starts sweeping up broken glass.]

[herotypical]

It's not the de-assifying that I'm thanking you for. It's the calling me by what I wanna be called.

[ she hefts the bag of shot a little experimentally. looking at it almost as though it were some sort of very distasteful thing. like a moldy old piece of bread. or a tarantula. ]

[simplestgift]

I can call another man man and it isn't so terrible.

[Not a point of argument, just a prompt for clarification. He's being non-confrontational tonight.]

[herotypical]

If I were a man you could call me 'man' and I'd still want you to call me Buffy.

[ ...convoluted, but she thinks she's made her point. ]

[simplestgift]

Fair enough. [He holds his hand out for the bag of shot.] It won't go off on its own, you know. It's only lead.

[herotypical]

...It's nothing like the bullets we've got. That's probably a good thing.

[ she gives in. hands it over. ]

[simplestgift]

[It goes in a pocket.] It's the sound. And the smell. Gunpowder, it...the smoke, it has a smell.

[It's therapeutic.]

[herotypical]

...And a distinctive spatter pattern after the fact.

[ she taps a space all too close to her heart. ]

[simplestgift]

[And he taps one by his stomach. Like two veterans comparing scars.]

Sometimes it happens.

[herotypical]

...I tried to learn how to shoot one, you know. I figured that what doesn't kill us makes us stronger but -- nope. Still don't like them.

[simplestgift]

It's a tool, the same as a sword. Except this one only gives you one shot. You have to wait for the, the opportune moment, as Jack might say. After that, it's only a very pretty-looking club.

[herotypical]

He tried to teach me, y'know. The night after you two cool kids had your little duel. But we were both too drunk. Those things should come with a warning.

[ a shrug. ] The one we were using was more from my time. More than one shot.

[simplestgift]

Good men die being shot by accident by drunks. I wouldn't suggest it.

[herotypical]

I don't think there's any concern. Me? I won't be picking up one of those again.