(Untitled)

[stillbecoming]

Buffy is by the fireplace, attempting to toast marshmallows on a polearm.

It's going about as well as you'd expect.

Comments

[hunterswidow]

And now Ellen can say she's seen damn near just about everything.

"Not really sure that's what they had in mind when they invented the thing," she points out.

It's her way of being helpful. Sort of.

[stillbecoming]

"But are you sure it's not?" says Buffy, waggling her marshmallow near a particularly bright lick of flame. "History is an art, not a science."

The marshmallow catches on fire.

[hunterswidow]

Ellen nods in the direction of said flaming marshmallow.

"And burnin' down the place is neither of those."

[stillbecoming]

Buffy hauls the marshmallow out of the fireplace and blows on it, hard. It lights up like a torch.

A nearby waitrat pours a glass of water over it.

"Well, it could be kind of artistic," she says meekly. And, to the rat: "Thank you."

[cutting_edgex23]

"That is not efficient," X observes.

She has a keen eye for the obvious.

[stillbecoming]

"Laura!" says Buffy, waving her over. "Let me explain something to you: the whole point of s'mores is inefficiency. Otherwise we'd just rig up some kind of dishwasher-friendly 20-marshmallow microwave rack, and somebody would invent a way to eat graham crackers without spraying neighboring countries with crumbs."

[cutting_edgex23]

"I think sticks are okay," she ventures, carefully.

"And they are smaller. Mr Simmons likes them."

[stillbecoming]

Buffy sighs, and looks sadly at one of her early attempts (sliced neatly in half).

"Yeah, sticks are okay. Who's Mr. Simmons? Remember that talk we had about introductory phrases?"

[untiedtheknots]

Artemis does not have a polearm. Woe.

But she have something a bit more maneuverable.

"Mind company?" she asks, waving her arrow.

[stillbecoming]

Buffy looks up. "No, pull up a chair." She gestures with the polearm. (Carefully.) "There's plenty of marshmallows to go around."

As she speaks, the marshmallow she's toasting begins to glow a dull red, and then yellow; Buffy looks back, sighs, and plunges it into her glass of pineapple juice. "Honestly, the arrow might work better."

[untiedtheknots]

"We never know until we try."

Artemis skewers a marshmallow and holds it out over the fire.

"Although yours definitely has wow factor."

[stillbecoming]

"Doesn't it?" She looks at the polearm with pride. "I'm still getting the hang of it, but it's kind of like one of those dual-purpose kitchen gadgets. Except one of its purposes is armed combat."

[isaysimplewords]

Cal is just observing.

. . . he's normally not the "just observing" type, but Buffy's choice of implement looks like it requires some extra concentration. Never interrupt someone handling a deadly weapon, even if it has marshmallows on it.

[stillbecoming]

Buffy is apparently not giving her polearm the attention it demands, because she's looking around the room, instead of at the sharp and deadly weapon with the flammable object on the end of it.

"Hey!" She waves. With the hand not holding the polearm. "Nice to see you again."

[isaysimplewords]

Well, she knows what she's doing, right?

(Cal is keeping an eye on the polearm, for all the good it's likely to do.)

"Hi, Buffy," he smiles, waving back. "How've you been?"

[stillbecoming]

"Little bored," she says, as if the polearm s'mores aren't a clear signal in themselves. "Although now I really am starting to feel like a regular."