when you called, your voice was so grave...

Jul 27, 2010 00:31

Meeting up with Dean hadn't taken long. He warned her to take care of his guns, she'd promised to do so, there was mutual luck-wishing, and she was off. The video's ingrained in her mind, playing on repeat when she sleeps and burning a hole in her psyche. It's horrific, the things that man did - what he's capable of, and Buffy is well aware of the fact that it's just not safe for anyone until there's a stop put to all of this. She's not on a crusade to hunt this one man down, necessarily, but she wants to make sure that the streets are safe.

Nighttime is just the most comfortable time for her. So, armed with her Scythe and the guns she's borrowed from Dean, she hits the streets. She winds through the blocks, checking down alleyways... Wanders toward the park, going through paths and making sure to keep an eye on all of the darker, shadowy places. The fact that she's having a largely fruitless patrol so far is frustrating, but she's determined to keep an eye out even if nothing's really happening.

Anything suspicious, she'll be putting a stop to as fast as she sees it. All of her weapons are on her in places that would take her not even half a second to grab... She's prepared, and ready. She's found a particularly quiet street, and the sound of her heels on the pavement is all there is aside from the occasional sound of a car passing.

(( ooc; Basically, Buffy's patrolling everywhere that she can get to on foot without totally exhausting herself. So... All over the city. Feel free to assume whatever location that suits you. ))

medusa, wes gannon, saul garamond, buffy summers

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