Fool's Adventures: A Demon's Souls/Buffy the Vampire Slayer Quest

The night air is dancing through your hair and trying to disturb individual strands with gleeful hands as you stand in the shadow of a tree, feet caressed by the grass, and body shrouded by the shade. It fails. You are a pillar of magic hidden under a spell, while your mind flows outward and inspects the mortal built school building. No part of you moves in that air, not even your hair.

So few… A part of you comments as you count the dearth of Souls in the area. One, two. No one I recognize.

The rumbling of the Hellmouth shudders over your skin, sweeping counter-clockwise in a cycle when it deigns to move in a direction other than "violent turbulence" at all. And that cycle is new. In this change you can feel the lack of subtlety in the intruder's touch. The memory of the taste of his influence on your Knight bubbles back to the surface and you hiss over it internally while you stand unmoving.

You are waiting for a sign from the pile of stones in front of you. You know that such a creature will be drawn to places of power like the Hellmouth. Every creature you have met so far has been. And since the creature is unburdened by a physical form, your physical senses are pointless except as mediums of transferring your more esoteric insights.

The scrying connection you have to Annie is a trickle while you wait. Happiness, watchfulness, these things are apparent from the little glimpses of her surroundings that you feel in that trickle. One metaphorical finger resting on it.

Hmm, there are not even many animals. You note, as your thoughts flit back to how silent the night is, and has been since before you arrived. Since you each went your separate ways.

A finger twitches, curling, before you stop moving. It confuses you until you catch onto the path your thoughts would have gone down. The echo of influence that creature tried to exert on your Knight while she gazed upon its wake. You smooth out your dress with one hand, listening to the trickle for a moment. Patient exuberance. With that in mind you step out of the shadow and stride across the field.

You walk directly to a wall of the school where a window into a classroom sits and jam your hand through the glass pane with a small crash-tinkle. Pulling it open is easy after that and you glide in unhindered. The room is pitch black except for light from the window. The smooth floor tiles are cool as you crack the inner door to the hall and pour through it gracefully, followed by a subtle cloud of shadows. What am I feeling?

You don't know. But something is touching off your senses. Something, like a barely there smell in the air, and the need to find it is pushing you forward. Troublesome that it is too small for me to define accurately. That is always unwelcome, though it was vanishingly rare, before. Passing by door after door after unremarkable and unimportant door as you patrol the halls does not bring you closer to whatever it is. Perhaps it was something there and gone again and you are reacting to the memory of something tiny.

Yes, that makes sense.

So you slow and consider for a moment what to do, cast in shadow by a pillar and one of the quietly buzzing lights on the ceiling. You remember the escapee. One of many, but this one had manipulated most of her own Soul and replaced it with the shrouding embrace of a Cloak. Hiding from your insight except as a tiny flicker for a time, squirreling away in corners and side tunnels.

You found her eventually. Caught her with my many arms and ate her. By using an inevitable and regular pattern, circling the halls of your Tower. You straighten, and begin to trace out a similar path through these bland halls you are in now. Now you are not seeking the tiny feeling which you can only remember. Now you are waiting for it to make a mistake and circling the faint memory which points to where it might be.

The two Souls burn around your path, lit oil lanterns in your mind. One is slowly moving in a winding path through halls beside you, around a corner at a three way intersection ahead.

When you flutter past its hall as a shade, you hear squeaky wheels and a rhythmic slosh-slosh. A janitor then. Unimportant. The brief glimpse of long hair, a dress, and mop tell you such. You leave her be and move on, unnoticed.

Your eyes wander, sliding over the painted walls and the flyers posted on them. You have been here before, the library is down a hall to your right, around a corner and then down another hall. No one is there. Before, you had paid no attention to the walls of this place, they were beneath your interest and still are. But now you do pay attention to the flyers when your eyes happen on them. Impulse and one of the things in your mind, with its little grabby three fingered hand, reaches out from behind your eyes for the colorful pieces of paper.

So, you read.

Art Club Needs Your Clever Hands! Visit this Tuesday!

Ignored.

Crisis Center. Call This Number!

Ignored.

Overwhelmed by History, Try These Easy Steps!

More and more colorful pieces of trash flick past. Then a black and purple flyer with a giant splash of gold lettering catches your eye.

Come To The Party! The Smashers Are Coming To Rock this Town! @ The Bronze this Friday

The thing reaching for the flyer is summarily killed and eaten when it tries to push that little bit too far. You'll keep it in mind. Maybe Annie knows who they are? You idly wonder about it and then set it aside to focus on your hunt. Your circle now takes you closer to the second Soul.

You are not familiar with this part of the school, but glances into classrooms reveal rooms full of glass beakers and other alchemical or chemical equipment. You are not completely sure which, and your interactions with this town make you somewhat doubtful to begin with.

But now that you are here, you can feel more. This has gone faster than the previous time. This pleases you. Not even a full circle and you can feel more than faint memories of the sensation. When you check, the other Soul is close now, barely four rooms away. Slipping on quiet feet down the hall you eventually come to a cracked door and peek in slowly.

Within is a room full of desks, atop which sit strange devices, filling the room with a sleepy hum of machinery. Your memories of reading books in the library weeks ago would say these are computers. The room is nearly pitch black, except for the little flock of blinking lights on the computers casting a faint green light.

The Soul is in the restroom to your right, just a little ways down the hall. You can smell a faint astringent plant odor mixed with smoke. Not going to be an issue. You quickly decide. Certain of where they are you turn back and parse what you are looking at.

A presence lingers in this room, jittering rapidly between the walls, the ceiling, the computers, before cycling back strongest at a device in the middle of the room. Piecing together the details takes a minute, during which you are prepared to incapacitate the Soul if it emerges from its hole. What you gather together is a lightning flavored tarpit, releasing a cloud of narcotic fumes.

A seducer.

A manipulator.

Really, he is a poseur. I can taste the crudity of his technique.

The Soul next door seems quiescent. So you pull your seeming around you securely and slip inside for now and pull the door closed in silence. The room is dropped into darkness, deep enough you can only see due to your inhumanity and the tiny lights.

And you listen.

You are waiting to see if there is a change in the movements of the darting feeling. There is not. Carefully, you slide your feet forward, a little bit at a time. You have to edge around the desks here and there, because their wandering arrangement around a larger desk forces you to maneuver through them to get through the dark room. When you stalk past that larger desk, a glance at the top tells you that it is a teacher's desk. Jenny Calendar.

An expert on these devices then? Her scent lingers around the desk, feminine and somewhat similar to Giles. They both smell a bit like the school does. The mass of humanity has always smelled rather the same to you, the meaty scent of their bodies and fear for their lives. With little facets like this one sprinkled around.

You slip past and move on.

A few more steps and a turn around a little huddle of computers and you reach the device the thing is most frequently returning to. Standing beside it in the shadows, the air buzzes in your ears like bees around a flower. The front glass-like portion, the "screen" from what you recall, is dark. A little spherical device with a lens sits on top of it, unpowered, a cable emerging from the back.

There are buttons around the bottom edge of the device, and a board with letter and number buttons sitting next to a oval object with two large buttons connected via cable to the computer. You tilt your head left in thought. I do not want to intrude onto it's unknown domain where I know little and it may know much. How to draw it out…

There is a click. You stare at the computer besides you. You accidentally bumped into one of the little oval devices and the device's humming is kicking up. You know this is no threat, you sense no harmful magic, so you just watch the screen light up, your eyes easily accommodating the light as it makes a little bonnng-trill noise.

There is a reaction now from the trace of the creature. You see it slither into and then out of the computer as it briefly displays a screen with a strange multi colored flag and the words Microsoft Windows 95 on a blue sky and puffy clouds backdrop. Then it changes to a display of rows of little pictures to the left on a bland blueish backdrop with a tiny white thing sitting in the center.

The trace comes back and then lingers there for a moment longer than before. Ah. Got you.

You will continue prodding this computer and get the thing's attention. Then once you do, you have a choice as to how to go about interacting with the being. Given its nature it will likely help you communicate with it, because it will want to corrupt other beings.

From it's reactions you think it may not actually be able to sense the physical world except through these devices as well.

How does Latria approach this being?

[] Trap the trace with your magic, intimidate it and frighten the thing into fleeing for a safe haven.

[] Lie and pretend to be a student with a troubled school life, ripe pickings for cult material. Lead it into a false sense of security and learn more about its manipulation methods.

You are driving through the darkening streets, tapping out a jaunty beat on the wheel with your metal fingers and whistling to a happy radio tune.

Your lady is waiting patiently right now, you can tell that much because of the link she made. After making that she ran through the incantation for the Glove which now exists as your right arm, and you drove her to the school and left her to go to your own task.

The waiting required by the drive is messing with you though, making you flex your metal joints impatiently. You have so many ideas that you want to try out!

So it is with you raring to go beneath a calm mask that you pull up into a sidestreet by the cemetery and exit. Best to leave your car out of sight. Don't want the vamps connecting it to you.

Hmm, where would the Slayer be?

You jog around a corner and across the street, tromping down the sidewalk besides the iron fence. You keep a careful distance from the ivy running through the construction.

A minute or so later and you slow to a stop in front of the gate, feet clacking on the pavement. The gate is closed, a dull chain wrapped tightly around the bars and secured with a padlock. Looking around you see no sign of the girl you are supposed to be meeting here. A look up tells you that the sun is getting very close to sundown. Ah, must be a little early. You tilt a hip and settle in to wait.

You don't stare into the cemetery, plotting how to make vampires shit thunderbolts, but it is a close thing only warded off by your need to keep an eye out for the Slayer. So, you are half turned, eyes going between the cemetery's misty grass and the road, while the rest of you listens for trouble. You also don't step towards your gift, it's not quite time yet.

Nothing shows up in the two or three minutes you have to wait, so when you hear something it isn't trouble. Instead it is a little put-put car engine coming up the road behind you. You turn and look back to see a little silver-brown car with the plates 2GPU947 driving up. And there is the Slayer in the passenger seat.

Now who's the guy in the driver's? Looks bookish. A hawkish nose and round glasses perched on it really sells that particular impression. He looks like a… definitely not a Watson. You give them a wave with your fleshy hand, to which Buffy reaches out and waves bouncily.

"Heeeeeeey Annie!" She yells, her voice somewhat obscured by distance and the engine until they stop in front of you and the end of your name dopplers into full volume. You catch a twitch from Definitely Not a Watson, as his official nickname shall be.

Kicking your lips into a smirk, you reply.

"Hey Buffy, hello sir…?" You trail off as they both get out of the car, doors slamming shut with a pair of thud-nks. Definitely Not a Watson looks at you, straightening his suit coat.

"Ah, Rupert Giles at your service." He says genially, offering his right hand for a shake. You oblige him, and giggle like a demon in your head as his eyes fix on the metallic limb suddenly wrapped around his fingers. He's charming.

"Nice to meet you Mr. Giles." I still think Definitely not a Watson is fitting. Or maybe Harker? Naw, he's not puppy like enough for Harker. He seems a bit stunned and befuddled by your metallic limb, his mouth hanging open like he is about to say something. He's still shaking your hand.

You give a little, tiny, squeeze and he jolts in surprise slightly. "Oh uh right…" He looks up at your face. "Where did you find such an intriguing piece of magic, young lady?" His honest curiosity is so cute. You have to restrain another pack of giggles. He's still shaking your hand.

"My hand Mr. Giles." You say, smiling.

"Yes?" He says, absentmindedly.

"You're still shaking it." Your smile quirks up in the corner and you look down.

He blinks and looks down himself. "Oh uh! My apologies, ah yes…" He drops your hand like it's on fire and pushes his glasses up nervously. You glance over his shoulder, seeing the sun dip below the buildings, and see Buffy looking at you both with an intensely confused expression like she just witnessed something she thought was impossible. Then she looks more specifically at Giles and whatever thoughts come make her screw her face up like she just sucked on a lemon.

Turning and keeping your smile in place, you gesture at the gate with a tilt of the head and gesture of your right hand. "Shall we?"

"Yes, yes we should, one moment." He says as he strides past you, fishing into a coat pocket for some keys. You and the Slayer, as she sidles up beside you watch as he fiddles with the chain. "What did you tell him?" You whisper to her as you lean over slightly. She glances at you and flushes very briefly in embarrassment before looking between you and the professor. Then she seems to put that little encounter completely out of her mind and focuses on the present.

"Eh, don't worry, just that you were cool." She responds with a chuckle and a shrug. You sigh internally and focus on the gate creaking open and Buffy hopping past you. With the way she bounces I think she's as excited to kill things as I am.

You follow, past Giles, and take a breath of the cemetery air as your booted feet flatten the grass. You don't try to keep up with the girl, walking slowly so Giles can catch up after re-locking the gate. He does, and settles into step besides you as the Slayer leads you both deeper into the graveyard.

"You want to go first, or should I?" You ask obliquely, still smirking and tilting your head to look at him while you tap metal fingers against your hip.

He looks at you and considers something for a tiny moment, before gesturing to you. Your arm, specifically. "I take it that that is no simple piece of armour?" His tone is actually quite genial and non-judgemental, though quiet so the girl up ahead doesn't hear. You manage to not narrow your eyes at the hint of disturbed concern he can't quite hide, resisting your reaction as you ponder how to reply. You decide to be direct.

"Nope. It's a gift from Latria." And you're quite proud to say that to this man. He hums in thought.

"A weapon then?" He asks astutely.

You nod and fill in some of the blanks, carefully leading him to something specific. "I'm doing what amounts to field tests. We both know how it works, essentially a channel for lightning which is quite potent. But if I'm going to be using it, I need to get a feel for how it works, live. It's also removeable when needed." You say the lie with an entirely straight face, trying to soothe his concerns with a kind tone.

He hums again then looks at you. "I understand. Do be careful though. We wouldn't want to lose you in an accident." His eyes are searching, but truthful.

You chuckle. "I'm touched, thank you." You turn your head and smile at him. "So what about yourself? You look like you've been doing this for a while. Your job is to help her…" Here you tilt your head in Buffy's direction. "Right?" Your tone is non-threatening. He nods, letting out a quiet breath as he adjusts his glasses.

"After a fashion, yes." He seems to be caught by a thought, and then seemingly decides to mention it. "Though it is more than that nowadays, what with her friends." His tone seems chagrined, though you are not totally sure.

You chuckle in sympathy. "I understand." Then you tap your chin with metal fingers and look over at him. "I'm the same way with Latria, though it is just us." Your whimsical tone and words gets an interested look from the man, one eyebrow quirked, before he turns away and sees Buffy having slipped into the distance.

He chuckles. "I can imagine." He shakes his head.

"We should, ah, catch up with her." He says, gesturing with his far hand. You both pick up the pace and catch up to Buffy while she meanders around a large… half mausoleum? You're honestly not sure what the stone thing crouched before you is, except that it is neither a sarcophagus or a mausoleum. Weeeeeird.

Giving a mental shrug you quirk a brow at Buffy. "So, let me guess. Vamps like to sleep in the graves." You say jokingly.

The girl brings up a hand and gives it a wiggle. "Sorta. They also… well kinda bury their new recruits? Newbies? Babies?" She shrugs while her lips screw up in disgust. "Either way me and Giles," He winces at this butchuring of grammar, very subtly. "Like to watch the graves, make sure any new ones ain't rising."

"Huh." Is your non-committal response. A stakeout then?

You can work with that, pleasure flowing through you to the beat of that jaunty tune.

Giles pulls out a book from his coat, a softback journal of sorts with no title and a little barcode stamp on the back, and takes a relaxed pose against the side of the surface sarcophagus thing. Buffy seems a tiny bit awkward as it occurs to her that she just invited someone to basically grave watch with them, looking around nervously. Then she is hit by an idea.

"Annie, wanna patrol with me up through there?" She whispers tensely, while pointing northwards. Seems like she has her game face on now.

You whisper back. "Sure." And follow alongside the girl, caressing your metal skin lightly with your flesh fingers. The Slayer doesn't seem exactly talkative, but you're fine with that. You take the chance to turn outwards, looking along a row of gravestones to your right. You push yourself to see what may be lingering out there.

The Glove tastes like ozone in your blood, dancing around in your tongue and surging down your throat like water. The dirt is soft and comforting, but jealous. It is tainted by something, you can feel it squirming under your feet. The misty air is silent and the fog is slower than molasses. Lady Latria has curiosity in her gullet as she pokes at something carefully.

So, nothing here but old death. You flip your hair a bit. And enjoy the silence surrounding the both of you. I need to know more for the Lady. In the distance you can see a lamp, lit, though dimly with the bulb close to going out entirely from the look of it. The shades around it tell you it is your current target, and you see the Slayer regularly measuring the distance between you and Giles. She's the super warrior after, so keeping an eye on her buddies is sensible.

You reach and pass the lamp, curling left to head west. You look around, hand resting on your hip as your weapon hand hangs loosely at your side.

Ozone goblins in your tongue. Grass turning to cut your feet, longer and sharper, meaner. The earth is hard here and the lamp behind you cold as ice. That ice flows over your shoulders like a cloak.

Awwwoooooooooooooooooooooooo! You turn your head at the wolf howl, looking south. You know that howl, even though you have only ever heard it in the future, related to that Willow girl. You can see it rippling through the air in shockwaves and bringing no reaction from the blonde at your side.

The sudden taste of dust makes you look elsewhere. You can't find it, but this is closer. The near past or present, instead of the distant future. You think. You honestly have only a vague sense of what you are doing with all of this, but your stubbornness pushes you forward. Which…

Um.

You cough, and shake your head. Buffy looks at you in concern, her brow furrowed.

"I'm fine, dust in the air or something." You say while raising your hand and waving it casually. You take that moment to try and figure out what the fuck you are looking at.

Arms, hands, arms and arms and arms again all holding flowers dying in the burst of electricity.

Curling horns.

A hand at your throat, stealing your air.

Shaking your head you retreat. Went too odd. You wave a hand at the Slayer.

"Come on!" You say as you speed up. A quick side glance shows her brows smoothing out from being quirked in concern and her eyes dark with the same. Past her Giles is okay, still reading and occasionally looking around with what you think is commendable situational awareness.

Then the dust taste comes back and Buffy is pointing to your left, a little ways into the square you are tracing out. "Over there," Your hand starts coming up, "that dirty looking grave was one we cleared out a little while ago, but they often look like that whether they are filled or not."

The grave in question is capped by a small angel statue, up to hip height. And the ground in front of it is freshly turned earth, some of that dirt having spread to the angel and the surrounding area.

"Hmm." You say, and tap your hip with a metal finger. "Hey, have there been vamps in graves with grass over them?" You ask curiously.

She shakes her head and shrugs. Silence descends again as you continue on the path. Eventually you turn two more corners and return to Giles after tracing out an area similar in shape to a good sized mall parking lot. Buffy walks up to him as he looks up and quirks an eyebrow at her, tucking the book into a jacket pocket.

"Nothing in that end?" He asks, quietly, like she has been talking.

"Nah, I think we should go deeper." She says back, crossing her arms and canting her hips.

He looks around and nods. "I agree." His tone is whimsical, as if he wanted to say more but thought against it. You're not sure what that's about.

You also don't care about their team dynamics to be quite honest so you put it out of your mind. The three of you gather up again and move deeper into the cemetery, towards a dangerous looking patch of trees. Buffy in the lead.

The shadows swallow you up, making it a bit tricky to maneuver over the uneven earth. The three of you somewhat awkwardly, in your opinion, position yourselves to keep your eyes on certain directions as you pass classical tombstones and mausoleums.

This section definitely seems to have gone for the original look. You snark with a mental eye roll.

Which is rather annoying considering you can see barely f-all. About five minutes into the little production Buffy stops and waves you over. She's standing next to a bent oak tree spreading its boughs over her head in a little clearing made by those branches.

Giles speaks up, in a confident tone, barring the pause. "I'll uh… go down this way. Some of these look older and less attended too. Good luck girls." He walks off to your left, west, and leaves the two of you standing beneath the tree.

Buffy misinterprets your lingering look. "He'll be fine. Nothing would want to hurt Giles." Her tone is joking, but relaxed. You look at her and raise an eyebrow, before shrugging and turning to face her.

"So, north, east or south?" You prod at the girl, tilting your head one way and then the other.

"Hmmm…" She scrunches up her brow in thought for a second, hand on her hip, and you watch her soft eyes dart around you both.

"Right… I think south. We haven't been in there very much." She says bluntly, before tromping off, her boots and jeans shielding her from the plant life. You hang back a few steps as you trail after her. You're getting a feeling again.

You tease over the incantation with your brain, and double check Latria. Whew, she's content. Thatsa relief.

You continue after the Slayer girl, trying to listen for anything out of the ordinary. You don't particularly feel like getting up close and personal with these dregs. It's not what the Lady would want after all. So you listen for any would be attackers.

Step, step, step, crunch-step.

Step, step, step, step.

Step-ep, step, step-ep. You try not to react to the second set of steps shadowing you. Did I actually hear something? You wonder as you feel your shoulders tensing unconsciously. And you can't relax, your metal hand jittering slightly. Where's Definitely Not a Watson?

You look over your shoulder and look for him in the shadow of the distant trees out to your right. And very dimly you see him looking over something beneath a tree, flashlight out. Good. The prickles at your neck stand up straighter as you look forward again.

But you don't hear the steps again and everything is quiet, ratcheting your joints tighter and tighter.

It seems to be getting to Buffy as well from the look she shoots you. Her brow is quirked and she's worrying at her lower lip as she meets your gaze and stops. You get closer and look around.

Nothing right now. But that feeling you have under your jacket is telling you that will change…

But it is irritatingly imprecise. You share another glance with Buffy.

"You hear anything?" You ask, half certain invoking the cliche will make these corpsesacks likely following you show up. They do not oblige you.

"Nope." She shakes her head. She looks around, rotating slightly in place while slightly bending her knees. "I don't hear anything actually…" You take a glance up, and your odd vision catches a slightly bouncing branch. You turn both ways slightly, head canted slightly left as you listen and try to pierce the shadows.

"Eh, why'd you girls have to be such spoilsports!" A voice snaps out of the shadows, young and petulant, male.

"Here we were enjoying the show and you just ruin it by reading the fucking script!" The voice continues, this time from the otherside.

Another voice, also young and petulantly disappointed, pipes up from the otherside. "Nothing for it man." There's a breath and then it shouts. "I call dibs on the Slayer! Someone's gonna owe me a hundred bucks hahahahaha!"

"NO, you shit!" the first voice shouts back as the stattaco snap-snap-snap! of branches announces these shitstains approach. You're already turning away from her as Buffy yells, and a meaty thwack digs into your ears as two shadows assault the stake wielding girl. But you can feel something behind you so you don't stop turning.

"Poor bastards, redheads are where it's at. Honestly." A third voice scuffs from the shadows, scratchy from smoking.

Before you can see it you raise your metal arm up, and reach for the sky. The moonlight intensifies as you open your mouth and inhale, glinting off the weapon which is now your arm.

"Tar chugam a chumhacht Myhnegon!"

Now, you were always complimented for your strong set of lungs by your school choir and granddaddy always said you could wake the dead with barely any effort. But the sheer thunderous roaring KRA-BOOOOOOOOOOOM! above your head drowns out your words, the sounds of fighting behind you, and what might be the tiny eep! let out by the slick sack of shit in front of you.

Ozone tingles ram down your raised fingers and your hair crackles while half your vision goes white. "Hahahahahaha!" You can't help it, the smile twists your lips and the laugh belts out as you try not to be knocked off your feet by the wild horse you just grabbed hold of.

The white ends and your arm feels like a solid buzz playing drums on your ribs. Thud, thud goes the roar of your heart in your ears. You see a blur coming towards you and you let go.

"Tar frim!" Fry you little shit!

Pzzzzzzzt-bang!

A massive rope of white lightning rips out of your index finger and wraps around the chest of your target, cackling like a pack of goblins and carving red hot holes in the vamps chest. You have a miniscule moment to enjoy the snapping lines of force which burn fulgurites into the dirt between you, and the frightened brown face of the vamp before it starts screaming.

"Aieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee-pop!"

Splortch goes the vampire in a glorious explosion of red and flaming gibblets evaporating into dust. The sky rumbles and grumbles before another KRA-BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM! Slams down and a twisting anaconda of white light links your arm to the clouds. You're ready to go for another shot. You stumble forward and desperately hang onto the beast attached to your shoulder and turn.

It couldn't have taken more than five seconds so you're surprised when you look around to find the last one getting stabbed through the chest as you look. Skreee!

Wow.

Buffy is looking at you in something like shock as well, watching the zap-zap-zap of little Jacob's Ladders snap between your knuckle spikes.

"Unhand me you overgrown ingrate and go back in your hole!" Giles's frustrated shout has both of you snapping to attention and sprinting through the trees. Buffy is faster because she has the confidence to leap over the head stones while you plan a route between them, arms pumping.

You quickly find the prof bent over a vampire half out of the grave, trying to smash it's wrist with a stake. Issue there is that said wrist is connected to a hand which is wrapped tightly around his ankle and is sloppily trying to pull him over and kinda succeeding.

Buffy gets there first and easily kicks the vampire flat without losing step. The thick smack is extremely satisfying to hear.

You're right behind her and grab Giles around the shoulder, pulling him back.

Skreee!

The vampire is summarily executed as Buffy smashes onto its chest and stakes it.

You come out of the moment to realize that all three of you are breathing hard. Giles hardest of all. "Ah, thank you, girls…" The bewildered prof sputters out as he fixes his glasses.

Goddamn that was fun. I need to find more shit to fry.

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Hurray! Took a bit for this one, but I got my head back in the game! Now I can finish up my last assignment for the semester and move on to the next update.

Happy Thanksgiving! Vote closes at 6:00pm UTC November 16th, Friday.