(no subject)

[doyle]

I'm having a go at RPing over in pruegirl17's journal, all about Buffy and Tara and their college romance. It's fun and a new experience for me, RP-almost-virgin.

If anybody wanted to start a tig in the comments I'd play, cracktastic scenarios welcomed...

Comments

[http://users.livejournal.com/_emomuffin/]

*grins* I'm proud to be the one to pop your RP cherry *giggle* :-p

[thiswholeflight.livejournal.com]

Oooh. I'd love to RP with you. *coughs* I'm way in an Anya mood. Or Faith. Or like... Anyone. Wesley/Connor. *seduces you with ideas*

[doyle_sb4.livejournal.com]

Anya's good! Anya and - Giles, Andrew, Halfrek, Dawn, someone else?

[thiswholeflight.livejournal.com]

Oooh. Anya/Giles? Or Anya/Andrew... or... Halfrek. Ack. Anyone you wanna play? I'm sort of in a season 7 mood.

[doyle_sb4.livejournal.com]

mid season 7 Ganya sounds good...

[thiswholeflight.livejournal.com]

Oooh. Yay. Now. Should I start? Or You? Anya'd be all "Ew... Girls everywhere." Annoying Stinky Potentials.

[doyle_sb4.livejournal.com]

I'm awful at starting, do you want to start?

[thiswholeflight.livejournal.com]

I shall!

This was disgusting. All the potentials everywhere were getting on Anya's nerves, especially now that she had to deal with cleaning. She didn't like it to start with but Queen Buffy had assigned everyone jobs. The bathroom? Did she know how much hair could accumulate in a sink with twenty girls running around the house gleefully? Sticking on bright yellow gloves, Anya prepared for the worst.

[doyle_sb4.livejournal.com]

Giles had given up on getting any work done in the living room. And the kitchen. And the basement. There were girls everywhere; training, cooking, arguing at high volume over which insipid television soap to watch. He'd thought Buffy's idea of dividing up the housework would keep everybody occupied and blessedly quiet for a few hours.

It proved, he thought ruefully, that he'd spent too long out of the field if he'd imagined that slayers - even slayers-in-training - would take to doing something without a fuss. Vi, Rona and Molly were embroiled in a three-way shouting match over who was supposed to empty which bins, Kennedy was complaining to anyone who would listen that they should be training instead, and Andrew seemed perpetually on the verge of either bursting into tears or declaring the kitchen an independent republic.

He tried working on the stairs, but after the second run-in with the vacuum cleaner he sighed, collected his books, and decided to find out if the bathroom was miraculously empty.

(OOC: god, I'm wordy. Sorry about that.)

[thiswholeflight.livejournal.com]

Ew, Anya thought as she removed a rather large mass of hair out of the sink. No wonder it was having trouble draining.

"My god," she said aloud, "It's a wonder that any of these girls have hair left."

Anya would have much rather prefered giving them a nice speech on the weaknesses of the Ubervamp. That she knew about. She just couldn't comprehend why she had gotten a job like cleaning the bathroom while Andrew was free to deal with the food. Shouldn't he be doing their dirty work instead of her?

(OOC: Hee. You rock. Wordy is totally fine.)

[doyle_sb4.livejournal.com]

The bathroom, as expected, wasn't empty. Anya was scrubbing at the sink, muttering something to herself - as annoyed at the house's proliferation of girls as he, no doubt. Giles hesitated.

They'd barely exchanged three words since their visit to the Beljoxa's Eye. Well, he thought, he'd been busy, and that was true; but it was also a convenient excuse. And he couldn't continue avoiding her forever.

"Anya," he said. "Hello."

[thiswholeflight.livejournal.com]

Anya looked up at her name. She half frowned towards him.

"Giles, are you looking to use?" She asked, glancing towards the toilet which she had just cleaned. "Because I'm rather busy doing the cleaning that Buffy would regularly be doing but has instead put on all of us to do while she entertains potentials with training stratagies. I'd hate to need to clean again."

[doyle_sb4.livejournal.com]

"Err, no. I was looking for somewhere quiet to work, actually." He held up the filesand he suddenly remembered the school library. The council's research rooms. All of them gone. "Just... looking for some space," he said quietly.

[thiswholeflight.livejournal.com]

Anya's frown softened slightly, "Well, then..." She gave him a polite wave inside that bathroom. "This might be the closest thing you'll find to quiet. Though working in the middle of a revolution might be better than what you'll find in this house."

[doyle_sb4.livejournal.com]

So spoke the voice of experience. He smiled, and found a spot to sit on the floor. It was uncomfortable and it was undignified, but at least it was quiet.

[thiswholeflight.livejournal.com]

(*waves magic OOC wand to foward time*)

Anya joyfully threw off her sticky rubber gloves. One of them hitting Giles' foot as she got up of the floor.

"Well, now that that's done." She threw a look over to Giles, "We should get out. Celebrate not dying. Furthermore, me surviving the reeking smell of sleeping among twenty teeny boppers."

[doyle_sb4.livejournal.com]

He looked up, surprised. He'd become so engrossed in an especially obscure footnote in Reinhart's Compendium that he'd almost forgotten Anya was there - something he wouldn't have believed a few years ago, when she'd first begun working in the shop and the chatter had almost driven him into early insanity.

He started to say that they couldn't leave the house, that it was irresponsible and dangerous and that the First could attack at any moment.

But he'd been thinking like that for the past how-many-weeks of sleepless nights and trips that more often than not ended with a dead girl. If he'd ever in his life needed to get away for a few hours, it was now.

"I'd need to tell Buffy that we're going," he said, wavering.

Downstairs, something smashed and several shrill, teenage voices began shrieking blame at each other.

Sod it, he'd leave Buffy a note.

[thiswholeflight.livejournal.com]

Anya grimaced at the obvious argument some of those said teeny boppers were having. Thank god, Giles wasn't arguing about getting out. She waited impatiently as he wrote a quick note. She needed a drink. Something preferably strong.

One tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor. At least it would be better than the continuous high pitched voices she was used to hearing.

[doyle_sb4.livejournal.com]

They made it out of the house unnoticed and uninjured, even though the argument in the living room had turned into some kind of cushion fight.

"I had a dream the other night that they all became real Slayers, all at once," Giles remarked. "Terrifying."

The street was quiet. A removal van was parked a few doors down, people hurriedly loading boxes and furniture.

Giles turned away, towards Anya. "Where do you want to go?"

[thiswholeflight.livejournal.com]

Anya shuddered visually at the mention of his dream. What a horrible thought. Why had he even mentioned it.

"Anywhere but the house," she commented, "and preferably some place with alcohol." She turned to look towards Giles, "It sounds good, doesn't it? I almost forgot other places existed. Everyone's tired of being cooped up like chickens waiting to be slaughtered in that house."

[doyle_sb4.livejournal.com]

He grimaced at her turn of phrase. Nasty habit she had, blurting out what everyone else was too afraid to say.

Alcohol sounded very tempting, even if it was barely four o'clock.

"We could drive out to the university," he said. "There's bound to be somewhere open at this time... oh." He'd just remembered his expired driver's license. "You'll have to drive," he said, with trepidation.

[thiswholeflight.livejournal.com]

Anya smiled, not noticing his grimace as she took the rental car keys from him. She had no problem with driving. She had much more experience since her first time driving Willow around Sunnydale to find Olaf. Okay, well, she had some.

"Well, then, lets go." She told him as she slipped into the driver's seat. Which one was the gas again?

[doyle_sb4.livejournal.com]

Giles knew how to defeat the First. All they had to do was work out some way to manoeuvre it into a car which Anya was driving and it would leave their dimension of its own accord.

He gingerly uncurled his fingers from their death grip on the seat and reminded himself that it was only a rental. Really, the worst that could happen was their deaths in a flaming ball of death.

"It's this turn," he said, and spent the next minute separating himself from the door. Anya was overly fond of the accelerator. "That light's red. Anya. Anya!" They passed it. He sighed.

[thiswholeflight.livejournal.com]

"Really, Giles," Anya started with a sigh which told him that he wasn't being any fun, "Do you think because everyone's scaddadled from Sunnydale that people are going to care about red lights? It's just a color."

She made a sharp turn at the next light (which also happened to be red). This is where he said the bar was, right? They stopped quickly across a few parking spots out in front of the bar. She was halfway up the curb.

[doyle_sb4.livejournal.com]

Giles, never a particularly religious man, offered a quick prayer of thanks anyway. They'd found the bar, they'd emerged unscathed from the worst driving he'd ever seen, and... wait a minute.

"If you're drinking, how are we planning to get back?"