|Alice Sharrow (girlofprophecy) wrote in childofeden_rp,|
@ 2013-10-11 19:50:00
|Entry tags:||character: ambrose, character: buffy summers, location: ambrose house, thread: complete, |week: 01, ~date: 07/july 11|
Who: Buffy, a journal Ambrose left for her to find, and eventually maybe Ambrose
Where: Ambrose's home
When: Week 1, Thursday Evening
Why: Buffy's about to sneak out of the house and blow off some steam when she finds something interesting to read instead.
Warning: Mentions of slavery and violence. Some language.
Buffy watched the door close behind him as he left. She stood there for a good minute, bothered beyond what was rational by the torrent of conflicting thoughts and feelings that plagued her. She had to get out. Ambrose knew she was going to go, and all she had to do was make sure she didn't get caught by the wrong person. Which essentially meant that she couldn't go have a tea party with Eterna. What a loss.
Buffy shook her head, marching over to the dining room and suddenly dropping her heel on one of the wooden chairs in an outburst of anger. It was mildly therapeutic, and she left most of it there for her master to find when he came home, collecting a piece of two for potential stake whittling.
She hid the wood under her pillow and changed into the running shorts and tank top she'd gotten when they went shopping for clothing. Tying her hair up in a ponytail, Buffy stalked out of her room, deciding on a nice, hour long run to keep her mind off of the terrible that was everything right now before more innocent furniture had to suffer. As she walked down the hall, she stopped, looking at the open door to the Sun Room. She remembered he liked that area, and a thought occurred to her.
She wanted to trust him, didn't she? Snooping was probably the best way to ensure that she could without just chancing it on his word. Buffy walked over to a desk, rummaging through some of the books strewn about and sifting through any papers that might've been relevant to her search. The search didn't seem to be yielding much of anything, and Buffy was about to give up when her fingers brushed against an old, bound, leather book that looked like it had come from at least a couple centuries ago. Curious, she opened it gingerly, not wanting to tear or damage something so old.