video / day eighteen / nightfall

[willstand]

[The first few seconds of footage feature Buffy maneuvering around the device she just found in her pocket. She shakes it, taps the screen repeatedly, tosses it from one hand to the other. Looking every bit as groggy and disoriented as she feels, she has yet to realize that the video function has been turned on. In fact, she hasn't even realized

Comments

since jack'll be grade-A useless, here, have someone who can actually help

[femshep]

Rule one, survive.
Rule two, get inside before the gates close or you'll die.
Rule three, once you're in, make sure you stay armed or you'll die.
Rule four, be careful what you eat or drink or you'll die.
Rule five, even if you follow rules 1 through 3 and play nice with the other kids, there's a chance you'll still die.

That's what I've figured out so far, anyway. Sensing the theme here?

[willstand]

I think I'm picking up on it, yeah. But hey, it's been a whole... fifty-three minutes since something last tried to kill me, we can't have that!

[femshep]

[Despite that she was being a little militaristic before, she's chuckling now.] Now that sounds familiar.

[But back to the non-joking matters:] You have any weapons on you?

[willstand]

Yeah, and if an army of hylophobic demons attack, I'm all set. I have a wooden stake.

[femshep]

Hate to say it, but you're going to need more than that around here. And this is the part where you say you're fine, but take my word here: you're not.

[A pause, almost like she's assessing something. Then:] Name's Shepard. Once you get in, come find me. I've got spare.

[willstand]

[Shepard. That's as odd as Buffy, right? It's the small comforts one holds onto at a time like this.]

These gates, they close when, exactly?

[femshep]

[It's her last name. Good luck finding out her first. Closest anyone's gotten so far's the name the military gave her when they picked her up--Jane.]

Seventeen minutes and twenty-one seconds.

[willstand]

[...Challenge accepted.]

Roger that. [Buffy goes radio silent for a few minutes, during which she barely manages to ignore her shiny new phone, what with all the blinking and beeping and the popping up of message after message. Following Shepard's advice and Giles' instruction, she gets herself within the walls, then returns to the device.] Still there?

[femshep]

['Roger that'. That's promising.

Either way, Shepard leaves her be after that, so at least she's not contributing to the chaos of alerts Buffy's forced to ignore.

At the question:] Copy.

I'm in E4-127.

[You'll figure out where that is. SHEPARD HAS FAITH IN YOU.]

[willstand]

[Oh, no. No she won't. In fact, there's a lengthy gap during which Buffy considers how many points she would lose for asking and ultimately realizes that she doesn't have much choice.]

This thing has a map, right? I feel like it should have a map.

[femshep]

[A chuckle, but not a cruel one.] E's 'east dorms'. Fourth floor. Room 127.

(1/2)

[willstand]

Ah, I see. That's... practical.

action (2/2)

[willstand]

[Some time later - longer than it should have taken, for sure - there's a knock at the door of room 127. After a moment of thought, Buffy considers the advice she's gotten from Shepard thus far and, doubting the other woman would respect anyone who did otherwise, takes a defensive stance against the wall, stake raised, and waits for the door to open.]

action

[femshep]

[The door opens, and the first thing Buffy sees is a pistol peering at her around the doorframe. Caught. Despite that, when Shepard follows, one corner of her mouth's lifting a little, appreciatively.]

Best try so far. [From anyone, she means. But Shepard pauses, then shakes her head slightly.] Second-best. First place, I found waiting in my room with a rifle. [And it was her closest friend, too, but... technicalities. She's heading back into the dorm, leaving the door open behind her as an invitation for Buffy to follow.

Sprawled across her bed are a variety of knives, daggers, hand-axes, et cetera. No guns, though.] Hard you say you weren't a fan of guns. [Though Buffy can easily spot about nine or ten shotguns, assault rifles, sniper rifles, and even a big, strange-shaped firearm exiled to her roommate's bed across the way. Either way, Shepard's gesturing to the various sharp (or blunt) things on her own bed.]

Pick your poison.