riverviewlogs | (no subject)

who: Buffy Summers
what: Coffee shop ,patrol, blood donation, exploration of the area
when: March 21-27
where: Perimeter, clinic, general area
warnings: TBD

Morning is spent working her shift at the coffee shop. Being a barista is something that worked out for her at home and something that she chose to do here. As far as jobs go, she likes being a barista. Once her shift is done there, she'll head out for an early afternoon patrol.

The brownouts had made Buffy a little nervous, but when the blackouts started she got even more nervous. The assurances that the perimeter fence will hold don't do much to assure Buffy. She prefers patrol as a means of assurance. Besides, it's something she knows how to do. She can be found patrolling along the fence with a stake in hand. She looks casual and relaxed. In fact, she might not look like she's paying any attention at all, but especially where Buffy is concerned, looks can be deceiving.

She'd read the announcement about needing blood donations both for injuries and for food sources. It hits close enough to home that she stops by the clinic and donates blood (but not any tissue because she's a little weirded out by that). She gives some warnings about her blood possibly being like crack to vampires and maybe stick to using it for an injury since it could also help with some speedy healing.

Between afternoon patrol and evening patrol, Buffy does some exploring around town, checking things out and not only trying to get the layout of the town, but get an idea of how people are reacting to the power issues as well.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Fatima's handshake was firm and hardy. No one respected a girl with a weak handshake. It was a fact that she'd had drilled into her again and again, growing up as she did. And her constant fear of being put at the 'kiddie table' of life pretty much guaranteed that it was a lesson she'd taken to heart.

"I don't meet a lot of other believers in stakes," she said, carefully. Admitting that it was a stake wasn't the same as admitting that vampires were real, she decided. She could test the waters.

Carefully. Considerately.

"Where are you from, Buffy?"

No one really wanted to be put at the kiddie table of life, so Buffy could understand that. Though, if the kiddie table had chocolate and a lack of responsibility, Buffy might not mind a visit every once in a while.

Buffy smiled at that, ducking her head a bit. "Me either, but they'd be surprised the damage a stake could do." She hesitated, shifting her weight a little. She didn't recognize Fatima and she thought she'd met all the slayers, at least she'd tried. Of course, she also thought all the other slayers (not including Faith) were dead. Maybe Fatima was saved by being brought here or somewhere else?

Lots of questions.

"Sunnydale, California but most recently San Francisco. You?"

Her face split into a grin. "Los Angeles," she replied, "it's about time I met someone else from civilization." Civilization, in this case, basically meaning California. Fatima had inherited a certain disdain for pretty much anything east of Nevada. And even Nevada was pushing it. And she was pretty sure the Midwest was occupied only by nomadic, roving bands of Vikings driving on zambonis or something.

"I guess I should also be asking you when you're from. That seems to be a surprisingly pertinent question around here."

It was giving her a damn headache.

"Oh! I lived there until I was sixteen," she responded, clearly happy to meet another Californian. Buffy hadn't been enough places really to have disdain for anything, though Cleveland was not on her list of places to live, but that had more to do with the Hellmouth it sat on top of than the actual city. Well if there were Vikings and zambonis, Buffy might need to make a trip. She could potentially like Vikings if they were all like Eric Northman and zambonis were kind of cool.

"Right. Yeah, I keep forgetting that's a thing even though I know that's a thing. Maybe that's how I'm avoiding the whole headache-y thing." She wrinkles her nose a bit. "2009."

"You really are my homegirl," Fatima said with a laugh. "I'm from 2009 too. June, if you wanna get nitty-gritty about it." Although she doubted it made much of a difference.

And, of course, there was the fact that being from the same time and place still didn't mean they were from the same world. Even if they were from the same world.

Her eyes drifted back to the stake again.

"What brings you out here?"

"More spring," she answered with a smile. It was nice to meet someone who may not be from her world (to be decided) but was from her place and time. "I haven't been back to LA in a while though." Los Angeles was Angel's territory and by some unspoken agreement, they didn't cross paths. Maybe it was too painful, maybe it was too awkward. Maybe it was both, but regardless they stayed clear of each other.

Yeah, she'd long become accustomed to that, but it didn't make it any less weird. Buffy saw the way her eyes drifted to the stake and she sensed it was a different sort of interest than the mocking that people here seemed to regard her weapon of choice. "Vampires. I'm out a scythe right now so it's the weapon I'm comfortable with that will kill vampires," she answered the unspoken question.

As for the spoken question: "Patrolling. Checking the perimeter. It's not that I don't trust the Quarantine when they say the perimeter fence will hold but...I don't trust them."

There was a lot to parse out in what Buffy said. But what really stood out was the word 'kill.' As in, killing vampires. Stakes didn't kill Cainites. They just knocked them into a torpor. Until you lit the bastards on fire or cut their heads off. But killing? Only in science fiction.

Option one, Buffy wasn't actually a hunter. Just one of those enthusiastic fangirls who read too much in the way of Twilight or whatever.

Somehow, that didn't feel right.

Option two, different vampire rules.

It was certainly a possibility, especially based on the anecdotal evidence Fatima was collecting about the multiverse.

Option three, Buffy was just a nutjob.

And she really hoped not.

In any case, she nodded slightly, biting down on the inside of her cheek. "Are there any? Vampires, I mean."