and there was never a more pleasant gray; surprise - you are alive
Sleep isn't happening tonight. She's been tossing and turning for hours, trying to find some semblance of restfulness, but without any luck. After sitting on her bed and contemplating whether or not she should venture out into the still-unfamiliar city after dark for about forty-five minutes, she makes a decision. She gathers the Scythe from under her bed, and makes her way to the exit of the Kashtta.
Buffy is no stranger to the things that go bump in the night. In fact, she's the one thing that can keep those bumps at bay. Or, always has been, in any event. Seems like Chicago's full to the brim with evil-fighters. She's a little relieved, honestly, that she's not alone in it anymore. But there's a lot to take in, too. Her head's swimming, has been constantly since she arrived, and she can't seem to stop drowning in the millions of thoughts.
Without real direction, she finds herself automatically being guided back toward Grant Park. Back to where she started. She looks up to the sky. There are some start visible, but the city lights mostly blank them out. A few clouds, scattered here and there... It's just another night. She keeps her weapon strapped to her back, ready to use if she needs it, but is mostly just out for a walk.
There's a fountain, and she finds the sounds of the water and the gentle light soothing. She finds a bench nearby and, satisfied with the location, lifts the Scythe from where it's held. She lays it next to her as she sits down, and leans against the back of the bench. Her head tilts, and she looks up at the sky. There's not much to see; it isn't as if the lights from the city have suddenly dimmed now that she's no longer walking. But she's not focused on her steps anymore. She tries to hone her attentions onto the fountain, hoping that maybe the trickle will be louder than her thoughts.
After everything in her life that's happened, regardless of being trapped in a place she doesn't understand, it's nice to just sit like this. For the first time in a seemingly endless span of events, despite her many troublesome thoughts, she feels almost... peaceful.
Buffy is no stranger to the things that go bump in the night. In fact, she's the one thing that can keep those bumps at bay. Or, always has been, in any event. Seems like Chicago's full to the brim with evil-fighters. She's a little relieved, honestly, that she's not alone in it anymore. But there's a lot to take in, too. Her head's swimming, has been constantly since she arrived, and she can't seem to stop drowning in the millions of thoughts.
Without real direction, she finds herself automatically being guided back toward Grant Park. Back to where she started. She looks up to the sky. There are some start visible, but the city lights mostly blank them out. A few clouds, scattered here and there... It's just another night. She keeps her weapon strapped to her back, ready to use if she needs it, but is mostly just out for a walk.
There's a fountain, and she finds the sounds of the water and the gentle light soothing. She finds a bench nearby and, satisfied with the location, lifts the Scythe from where it's held. She lays it next to her as she sits down, and leans against the back of the bench. Her head tilts, and she looks up at the sky. There's not much to see; it isn't as if the lights from the city have suddenly dimmed now that she's no longer walking. But she's not focused on her steps anymore. She tries to hone her attentions onto the fountain, hoping that maybe the trickle will be louder than her thoughts.
After everything in her life that's happened, regardless of being trapped in a place she doesn't understand, it's nice to just sit like this. For the first time in a seemingly endless span of events, despite her many troublesome thoughts, she feels almost... peaceful.