Fourth Tide Turning ☠ Written | Video

[lists_to_port]

[Jack has been spending a great deal of time at House Seven, looking after Buffy. There are occasions though when he manages to slip off to Cullen House; he has to keep an eye on the place, after all, and is slowly but surely stocking up on necessary non-perishable supplies for the winter that he and Katie McCoy can share. Firewood. So many things

Comments

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[slaying]

[ buffy has seen the gamut of the pirate's handwriting by now -- it isn't hard for her to pick up on who's writing even without the handwriting, though. and the video -- she'd know that attic under any condition, she suspects.

with a soft sigh and a feeling of once again being spun out away from any decent handhold, buffy writes back: ]

I'll get out the Oreos and the apple juice. Maybe some rum, too. Y'know -- all things considered.

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[lists_to_port]

Feels different, this time. Strange. Like being washed out to sea.

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[slaying]

Let me keep you [ wait -- what was the right term? there's a considerable pause before the last word ] moored.

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[lists_to_port]

[It's a long while before there's a reply. Then:]

Aye. Alright.

[written]

[noprevaricating]

Everyone is leaving.

[Archie was fond of the tiny girl, as often as she creeped him out. Little Kitten.]

[written]

[lists_to_port]

It does seem that way, does it not?

[written]

[noprevaricating]

Are you all right, Jack?

[written]

[lists_to_port]

Fine.

[written]

[wise_maiden]

[Raine hasn't been paying too much attention to the journal, a bit preoccupied lately. The note catches her eyes though - and another -

and that's just how things were, here. She begins to worry coming home to an empty house, herself. Her writing is tight, as she responds. She doesn't expect a response.]

Thank you for letting us know.

[written]

[lists_to_port]

[Even if she doesn't expect one, Jack has the courtesy to give one.]

You're welcome, darling.

[written | locked ]

[wise_maiden]

It's your attic... isn't it?

[written | locked ]

[lists_to_port]

Yes; my attic.

[He wonders if Raine can tell who he is, but doesn't try to reveal himself any more than he already has.]

[consultmybooks]

[...it's amazing, in a way, that he can feel anything at all about this. After Mithos, after all of these dozens of hopeless, sad messages that have been sent out over the last few weeks.

But he can. It's the mural.

Giles does see himself on the wall, a childish little chalk drawing of himself and his boat and a cat.

He writes a reply. Reasonably sure he knows the handwriting but too tired to be certain.]

Thank you for telling us.

[lists_to_port]

You're welcome.

[It's a short written message and while it is not insincere, it's certainly given with every sentiment of not caring. Of course, the written word does not pick up on those inflections.]

[consultmybooks]

Where is that? The mural, I mean.

[lists_to_port]

It's in a safe location.

[Does Jack want to discuss anything about Cullen House with Giles? No, no he does not.]

[Written]

[markofthewise]

[... oh. Katie. Strange, he never thought he'd ever get so attached to the kid. And yet now he's finding he wished he'd been a little nicer to her. But it's too late for that, isn't it?

And there he is. In chalk. And he looks kind of like a troll.]

Looks like her drawings improved.

[Written]

[lists_to_port]

A highly creative sort, Katie McCoy. You could almost say she could make something from nothing.

[Written]

[markofthewise]

Yeah. You could say that.

Anyway, thanks for letting us know.

[Written]

[lists_to_port]

It was the least I could do, all things considered.

[Being haunted by that artwork alone was not something he was eager for. Let it haunt everyone it represented. He was good with that.]