About the Player
Name/Alias: Christie
Age: 26
Email/Messenger: slayfulbuffy (AIM)

About the Character
Character name: Buffy Summers
Character LJ: slayful_buffy
PB character: Sarah Michelle Gellar
Species: Slayer
Alignment: Heavy on the side of Good
Writing Sample: To come soon... (Or just click on one of the games in my userinfo!)

I should have known. I should have known something was up when he didn't check in but... I've been so preoccupied with Spike a-and Dawn and the Hellmouth, I--

I got a phone call this morning. From England. When the weird-sounding lady asked if I'd accept the charges, I was so relieved. I thought that finally he was contacting us, telling us that he knew what was going on and that all these dead girls were-- That it would stop. That we could stop it because that's what we did or do or...

The Watcher's Council got blown up two weeks ago. A few survived but everyone in the building-- Giles was staying there. Trying to figure out what was happening. The guy on the phone told me he was sorry for my loss, that they found something of his there and there's little hope that he survived.

I don't... I have no idea how to do this. I don't know that I can tell Dawn again or Will or Xander. And the girls. They're looking for me to lead them, to help them not die and this-- This thing that's coming has eliminated our best chance of beating it.

How do I do it? How do I tell them all? How do I face whatever's coming when I know that the man who was more like my father than my own is gone?


[ Open to any at the Summer's residence. ]

( not so much normal... )

Fifteen minutes later and I was out of there, wrapping my scarf tight around my neck and slipping my hand into my jeans pocket, running my fingers over the zippo lighter that I'd plucked from my little box of things I'd managed to salvage before the battle. Mr. Gordo, Mr. Pointy... A few photos of my Mom, the gang and I, and Spike's lighter. The one I'd protested until I was blue in the face that I didn't have.

I carried it everywhere. My little good luck charm? I didn't think so, though my luck had been pretty good since we'd given all the girls the power of the Slayer. I'd managed to find us an apartment, enrol Dawn in a local school that wasn't located on a Hellmouth... I'd even managed to find myself a job that I didn't hate 98.5% of the time. I was, like, normal life Buffy. Looking after her sister Buffy.

Bored to goddamn tears Buffy. Okay, okay, so part of me didn't miss the not knowing whether I was going to live to see another day. And I really didn't miss the icky-stinky sewer smell when the slayage got, well, sucky. But I missed-- I missed not having a purpose. I missed not having something to go out and do every night and, really, that was high on the irony-meter. Me, Buffy, she who hated being a Slayer for most of her young life wanting to go back to it. Maybe not full time or anything, but enough so that I could settle this antsy, uneasy feeling inside me that I still couldn't figure out when it had dropped on me.

Sighing, I slipped through the gates to the park that held the same shortcut I travelled every night. "So much for Normal Life Buffy," I murmured to myself, shoving both hands into my pockets as I walked, "More like Much With The Issues Buffy."

[Open to Spike]