New Rulesverse!
New Rulesverse! This is the start of an ensemble piece for the Rulesverse in its later years, featuring pretty much everyone eventually. For starters: Cordy, Giles, Lorne, Robin, Faith, Buffy, Angel, Gunn and Wesley. Rated PG so far. This *is* a WIP, though as usual with the Rulesverse, it's episodic and you should get something out of it as a standalone. This takes up some of the threads left hanging in In the Wolf's Mouth, where W&H helped the Council to bring down Willow, when she was controlling the world's magics with the help of another mystical beast.
Dispatches from the War of the Hart
The trinity has fractured. The example of the eagle has inspired the Hart to bid for freedom. The unity, some might say the fossilisation, of the Wolf, the Ram and the Hart, is dying.
With it, the Slayer Council's years of calm.
*
Geneva, October 2015
"Hello Cordelia-"
She didn't want to hear it. So she pretended this was normal. "Hey Giles. How's is going? I got an appointment with Master Manuel tomorrow, isn't it great?"
He took a breath, which wasn't a great indicator at the start. "Cordelia. The inner Council has been meeting-"
"Fancy name for you and Faith and Buffy getting a coffee." But she was only spinning out the inevitable. She knew perfectly well this wasn't casual chitchat time. It had been coming for months.
"And Vi. And Kennedy. The evidence of the force predictor is crystal clear. Wesley has had personal confirmation from the firm. The trio has splintered and they will fight. We're all agreed we cannot stand aside from the consequences. How much cash can you liquidate for us by Friday?"
She gasped. "Friday? That soon? Giles, we're gonna make a huge loss on the Nikkei if-"
"I'm sorry. We're all sorry. Things have not gone as we would have wished. But Cordelia - the only point of investing is-"
Hard to argue this one. "Yeah. I know. Saving the world. You really need that much cash right now?"
Cordelia could almost hear Giles polishing his glasses. In a bad way.
"I fear- We are certain that this will be a war. On multiple fronts. The travel alone will be formidably expensive, let alone the weaponry, the medical bills, the sheer logistics..."
Multiple fronts. War. Cordelia could feel ice trickling down her spine. They'd been so lucky lately. Had they gotten careless? Were they still tough enough? She looked over at the sword in the corner of her office; she'd hardly touched it since 2010. Definitely careless.
"So it's everywhere."
"It seems probable that it will be on all continents. We already know the Hart is active in hotspots in Cleveland, Osaka, Oran, Burgundy… we have nothing confirmed from the southern hemisphere, but it's almost certain there is something stirring in the Nullarbor Plain, and I would be startled were South America untouched. There is clearly a symbolism in having activity across the globe. The Wolf and the Ram will want to match that, and so must we."
"Oran…" She could hardly say it.
Giles was quiet for a moment. "Yes. Xander will be part of one front line. But you must know, my dear…" (And he never, ever called her that. Let alone during working hours.) "…all our actives will be assigned to one of the theatres of war. And we must keep up our usual coverage of the globe as well."
"You mean the vampires won't take a break while Big Evil dukes it out?"
"I'm afraid that would be far too much to hope for."
Cordelia was quiet for a moment. People were going to die because of this war, one way or another. Whether in the great battles or just in alleys where Slayers weren't able to patrol. It wouldn't matter to them much which it was, as they died.
So what else could she say, beyond, "Okay Giles. We'll get it done."
"I know you will. We all will. Good luck, Cordelia."
*
Nowhere You Need to Know, NE, October 2015
The eyes gleamed red and sentimental, in the green face of the demon. "Man, I hate to hide away." Lorne sighed heavily and in no way convincingly as he got going on unpacking the workings of the Slayer Support Officer training headquarters.
Robin felt exactly the opposite, but he wasn't going to whine. Externally, that was. "Look, it's okay to be glad we're safe. Or safer, anyway. I'm guessing any Council place could be a target. We're gonna have to be so careful, you know. The SSO trainees are probably safe, but anyone from outside could be a danger. It's not like we have support networks like we do in LA. And we're not gonna be the most discreet addition to the neighbourhood."
Lorne chuckled, in a deeply unfunny way. "I know. We're gonna be singing every day, believe me. Everybody gets screened, every 24 hours minimum. I thought show tunes for the first week, and then we'll go a little more contemporary. Or you could take a turn leading the fun?"
Robin Wood had spent twelve years dedicatedly supporting the Slayer Council. He'd taken the slime toad plague and his subsequent demotion pretty well. He'd built the SSO education quarters into a functional entity, even having to cope with losing his autonomy to a vampire boss. He liked Lorne. Really. But he was already starting to wonder if this war was going to break him.
He said gloomily, "That woman at the feed store thought we were a couple."
"I know, Mr Principal. I know." Lorne wasn't laughing at him. Very audibly. "And that won't be the worst of it."
Wasn't that the truth?
*
Slayer Central, The Scottish Highlands, October 2015
The control centre was full of speechless tension. Fight/flight impulses were screaming.
"We're not moving the kids away. No way." It was the fourth time Faith had said it.
It was the third time Buffy had said, "We're moving the Support Officers' training out of LA. What's different? I want my kids safe."
Faith smacked her hand down on her chair arm, frustrated. "Where's safe? Like, cast-iron forever secure safe? Nowhere, B. I want my kids close. If it's the Apocalypse, let's face it together."
"My way, they get to live, if it all goes bad."
"B, you have to trust us. We moved the SSO's cuz LA's a bearpit and half of them aren't ready to face a fledge yet. This place is gonna be better than that, and way better manned. Whatever goes down, I think this place'll hold. You'll be safe here with the kids, G and whoever's on central duty. It's the best place for you and them. Well, unless-"
Buffy had said this a lot more than four times, in the last couple of years. "I'm not going into the field. You know that. I can't do that any more."
Faith's head thunked down on the desk. "You're moving better than I am. Better than half the fourteen year olds we're getting in. You know you just have to believe you can do it." She raised her head again, with an obvious afterthought. "Though maybe after the war's over, cuz I'm glad you're gonna hold the thing together here with Giles. It helps to know you two are together again."
"It helps to know we're not alone."
"B… we're never alone."
Their eyes caught, held. Usually, this was a moment for a big eyeroll and a complaint about Slayerettes, rosters, night duty, kids, menfolk. But tonight, loneliness seemed like the enemy. They were an army; they needed to live like it. It was necessary.
*
The Hyperion, Los Angeles CA, October, 2015
"So we're all together again." Angel was smiling. The undertones were not so happy.
"All together and facing Wolfram and Hart for the smackdown of a lifetime. Again." Gunn, ignoring his exceedingly well-tailored suit, swung his feet onto Angel's desk like the kid he no longer was. Hands behind his head, he looked up at the ceiling. "It's like Groundhog Year. Groundhog Decade. We do what we do, and then this happens all over again."
Wesley's cough and look of reproof almost made Gunn swing his feet off the furniture. Till Wes grinned and fished a bottle of decent Scotch out of his 'research materials' case. "Glasses still in the same place, Angel?" He pottered around the office, fixing drinks, while musing aloud. "Well, one can't quite say things are identical. We're not working for Wolfram and Hart this time, and this place is more of a student hostel than a ruinous hotel. The enemy were united against us last time around of course, though I appreciate their falling-out doesn't seem to have made life any the simpler for us. Spike and Lorne aren't with us right now; Illyria's taking a nap. And I haven't seen Bill Murray at all."
He talked himself into silence, once they all had glasses. There was a long quietness.
"Still," said Angel, quietly.
Wesley nodded. "Still."
"Same damn thing over again." Gunn twitched his shoulders, fidgety. "How many more times this gonna happen? We gonna be having the drinks and sighing deep when we're sixty? Eighty?"
No pedant bothered to add three hundred, though it was written on Angel's face.
"Probably," said Wesley, after a while. "What else would we do?"
*
Dispatches from the War of the Hart
The trinity has fractured. The example of the eagle has inspired the Hart to bid for freedom. The unity, some might say the fossilisation, of the Wolf, the Ram and the Hart, is dying.
With it, the Slayer Council's years of calm.
*
Geneva, October 2015
"Hello Cordelia-"
She didn't want to hear it. So she pretended this was normal. "Hey Giles. How's is going? I got an appointment with Master Manuel tomorrow, isn't it great?"
He took a breath, which wasn't a great indicator at the start. "Cordelia. The inner Council has been meeting-"
"Fancy name for you and Faith and Buffy getting a coffee." But she was only spinning out the inevitable. She knew perfectly well this wasn't casual chitchat time. It had been coming for months.
"And Vi. And Kennedy. The evidence of the force predictor is crystal clear. Wesley has had personal confirmation from the firm. The trio has splintered and they will fight. We're all agreed we cannot stand aside from the consequences. How much cash can you liquidate for us by Friday?"
She gasped. "Friday? That soon? Giles, we're gonna make a huge loss on the Nikkei if-"
"I'm sorry. We're all sorry. Things have not gone as we would have wished. But Cordelia - the only point of investing is-"
Hard to argue this one. "Yeah. I know. Saving the world. You really need that much cash right now?"
Cordelia could almost hear Giles polishing his glasses. In a bad way.
"I fear- We are certain that this will be a war. On multiple fronts. The travel alone will be formidably expensive, let alone the weaponry, the medical bills, the sheer logistics..."
Multiple fronts. War. Cordelia could feel ice trickling down her spine. They'd been so lucky lately. Had they gotten careless? Were they still tough enough? She looked over at the sword in the corner of her office; she'd hardly touched it since 2010. Definitely careless.
"So it's everywhere."
"It seems probable that it will be on all continents. We already know the Hart is active in hotspots in Cleveland, Osaka, Oran, Burgundy… we have nothing confirmed from the southern hemisphere, but it's almost certain there is something stirring in the Nullarbor Plain, and I would be startled were South America untouched. There is clearly a symbolism in having activity across the globe. The Wolf and the Ram will want to match that, and so must we."
"Oran…" She could hardly say it.
Giles was quiet for a moment. "Yes. Xander will be part of one front line. But you must know, my dear…" (And he never, ever called her that. Let alone during working hours.) "…all our actives will be assigned to one of the theatres of war. And we must keep up our usual coverage of the globe as well."
"You mean the vampires won't take a break while Big Evil dukes it out?"
"I'm afraid that would be far too much to hope for."
Cordelia was quiet for a moment. People were going to die because of this war, one way or another. Whether in the great battles or just in alleys where Slayers weren't able to patrol. It wouldn't matter to them much which it was, as they died.
So what else could she say, beyond, "Okay Giles. We'll get it done."
"I know you will. We all will. Good luck, Cordelia."
*
Nowhere You Need to Know, NE, October 2015
The eyes gleamed red and sentimental, in the green face of the demon. "Man, I hate to hide away." Lorne sighed heavily and in no way convincingly as he got going on unpacking the workings of the Slayer Support Officer training headquarters.
Robin felt exactly the opposite, but he wasn't going to whine. Externally, that was. "Look, it's okay to be glad we're safe. Or safer, anyway. I'm guessing any Council place could be a target. We're gonna have to be so careful, you know. The SSO trainees are probably safe, but anyone from outside could be a danger. It's not like we have support networks like we do in LA. And we're not gonna be the most discreet addition to the neighbourhood."
Lorne chuckled, in a deeply unfunny way. "I know. We're gonna be singing every day, believe me. Everybody gets screened, every 24 hours minimum. I thought show tunes for the first week, and then we'll go a little more contemporary. Or you could take a turn leading the fun?"
Robin Wood had spent twelve years dedicatedly supporting the Slayer Council. He'd taken the slime toad plague and his subsequent demotion pretty well. He'd built the SSO education quarters into a functional entity, even having to cope with losing his autonomy to a vampire boss. He liked Lorne. Really. But he was already starting to wonder if this war was going to break him.
He said gloomily, "That woman at the feed store thought we were a couple."
"I know, Mr Principal. I know." Lorne wasn't laughing at him. Very audibly. "And that won't be the worst of it."
Wasn't that the truth?
*
Slayer Central, The Scottish Highlands, October 2015
The control centre was full of speechless tension. Fight/flight impulses were screaming.
"We're not moving the kids away. No way." It was the fourth time Faith had said it.
It was the third time Buffy had said, "We're moving the Support Officers' training out of LA. What's different? I want my kids safe."
Faith smacked her hand down on her chair arm, frustrated. "Where's safe? Like, cast-iron forever secure safe? Nowhere, B. I want my kids close. If it's the Apocalypse, let's face it together."
"My way, they get to live, if it all goes bad."
"B, you have to trust us. We moved the SSO's cuz LA's a bearpit and half of them aren't ready to face a fledge yet. This place is gonna be better than that, and way better manned. Whatever goes down, I think this place'll hold. You'll be safe here with the kids, G and whoever's on central duty. It's the best place for you and them. Well, unless-"
Buffy had said this a lot more than four times, in the last couple of years. "I'm not going into the field. You know that. I can't do that any more."
Faith's head thunked down on the desk. "You're moving better than I am. Better than half the fourteen year olds we're getting in. You know you just have to believe you can do it." She raised her head again, with an obvious afterthought. "Though maybe after the war's over, cuz I'm glad you're gonna hold the thing together here with Giles. It helps to know you two are together again."
"It helps to know we're not alone."
"B… we're never alone."
Their eyes caught, held. Usually, this was a moment for a big eyeroll and a complaint about Slayerettes, rosters, night duty, kids, menfolk. But tonight, loneliness seemed like the enemy. They were an army; they needed to live like it. It was necessary.
*
The Hyperion, Los Angeles CA, October, 2015
"So we're all together again." Angel was smiling. The undertones were not so happy.
"All together and facing Wolfram and Hart for the smackdown of a lifetime. Again." Gunn, ignoring his exceedingly well-tailored suit, swung his feet onto Angel's desk like the kid he no longer was. Hands behind his head, he looked up at the ceiling. "It's like Groundhog Year. Groundhog Decade. We do what we do, and then this happens all over again."
Wesley's cough and look of reproof almost made Gunn swing his feet off the furniture. Till Wes grinned and fished a bottle of decent Scotch out of his 'research materials' case. "Glasses still in the same place, Angel?" He pottered around the office, fixing drinks, while musing aloud. "Well, one can't quite say things are identical. We're not working for Wolfram and Hart this time, and this place is more of a student hostel than a ruinous hotel. The enemy were united against us last time around of course, though I appreciate their falling-out doesn't seem to have made life any the simpler for us. Spike and Lorne aren't with us right now; Illyria's taking a nap. And I haven't seen Bill Murray at all."
He talked himself into silence, once they all had glasses. There was a long quietness.
"Still," said Angel, quietly.
Wesley nodded. "Still."
"Same damn thing over again." Gunn twitched his shoulders, fidgety. "How many more times this gonna happen? We gonna be having the drinks and sighing deep when we're sixty? Eighty?"
No pedant bothered to add three hundred, though it was written on Angel's face.
"Probably," said Wesley, after a while. "What else would we do?"
*