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The Players : Buffy Summers. (Closed)
Where : Des Moines, Iowa.
When : The week of January 19-23, 2009. (Not long after Peter's post.)
Rating : PG/PG13.
Notes : Hey look, it's Buffy!
Buffy Summers spun around, the heel of her booted foot connecting to the vampire’s jaw sending her prey stumbling back. In the time it took for him to recover the Slayer had already introduced him to Mr. Pointy on an intimate level. Buffy pulled the stake from the vampire’s chest before the body collapsed into ash and dust, but she took no respite as she was already dodging a fist from the remaining vampire. As the fist went past her, she sidestepped and a moment later the last of the vamps was dust.
Buffy let out a bored sigh and spun her stake in her hand. “That was the kind of fun that isn’t.” She slid Mr. Pointy back into a pocket of her coat and started to take her leave from the cemetery. It was a quiet but chilly night in Des Moines, Iowa. She was pretty sure she’d never get use to non California weather, but at least it was a change of pace. After Sunnydale collapsed and the original Scoobies helped reboot a new and hopefully improved Watchers Council, Buffy had seen her sister off to school and started her own little working vacation. It was easier to catch a break from being one of the two most important slayers of the council than she expected it would be. She had to thank Giles and Andrew’s brilliant idea for setting up ‘doubles’ to pose as her. She was still aware of one in Rome but the other was still underground as far as she knew. It also helped that she’d gotten a phone call from Riley Finn with a tip on something in Iowa that could be up her alley.
Apparently there was a serial killer in the city, one with a knack for skinning a person’s face off. Buffy remembered wondering why Riley would think it was a job for a slayer and then he told her about some of the details of the crimes that the police withheld from the public. Each crime scene lacked any blood trace of any kind and there was no sign of what could have skinned the victims’ faces off. Everything was too neat and clean. Riley’s contacts believed it to be magic or demonic in nature so he called the Watchers Council looking for help. There had been a bit of deliberation on whether or not to follow up on the information, but Buffy had decided that she was going to look into it with or without help. It was partially because she felt she owed Riley that much and partially because she wanted to do something and get out of the land of tweed. She missed the states. She didn’t however miss the cold snap that was apparently affecting the area.
Once Buffy reached the street she pulled out her car keys and headed for her car. It didn’t take long for her to find herself behind the wheel and basking in that invention called the heater. She drove in silence, stopping at a drive through for a very late dinner. When she arrived at her motel, she went inside, locked the door behind her, and set her things onto the table. She flipped the television on and headed for the shower, not paying any attention to what channel it was on.
*******
Buffy settled on her bed with a sigh and began to munch on her fries as she waited for the commercials on tv to die their horrible death. Scattered around on top of the bed with her were a variety of articles relating to the killing spree. Apparently the killings had been going on for over two months and there were already seven murders and there was no real connection to each other that anyone was aware of.
Dramatic yet somewhat cheesy sounding music followed by a creepy cackle and the phrase “Fright Night,” poured out of the tv’s speakers, forcing Buffy’s attention back on the screen. The scene was of a cemetery set that was obviously fake and fog was covering the ground. An older man stepped out from behind an iffy looking weeping angel statue. He had silver hair and a plaid Inverness cloak (how Buffy knew that she still wasn’t sure) over Victorian styled clothing. “Welcome… to Fright Night.”
Buffy sat up straighter and tilted her head with interest. She remembered this show. When she was a kid, before she was called, she’d sneak and stay up late to catch it on tv. The last she remembered of it was that it was an L.A based show. She had no idea it was still on, let alone that it was broadcast outside of Los Angeles. What was the host’s name again? Peter Ishkhans? “No, that’s the stylist guy…” Buffy frowned. It was Peter something, she knew that much.
“The world around us is a terrifying place.” Peter was talking again and Buffy was once again focused on the screen. “Evil lies in wait around every corner, pushed back into the shadows by the few that are courageous enough to take it on headfirst.” He was pacing now, the cameras forced to follow him. “Why just this evening I had a brush with a most ferocious demon… He thought he had the best of me, me!” He was indigent at whatever had occurred. “I am Peter Vincent! The great vampire killer!” He spoke with pride and a dramatic flourish that made Buffy snicker. “I fear no demon and will use all my power to keep this world safe for all of you out there.”
Buffy reached for the remote, her desire to start channel surfing had decided to come out of hiding as Peter spoke about some fan mail he’d received. But before she changed the channel, Peter caught her attention again.
“I received a letter the other day, from an Emily in Des Moines, Iowa.” Peter stared at the camera with morose expression. The name and the location had Buffy’s mind reeling and she started to sort through her articles again. “It would seem that she has suffered a tragic and needless loss, a reminder that we must remain ever vigilant in dark times… But worry not, Emily. Help is coming.”
“Aha!” Buffy pulled out a sheet of paper as she skimmed it. One of the victims was a Meredith Hill, a single mom in the suburbs. “Survived by a seventeen year old daughter, Emily.” Buffy’s eyes narrowed and she stared at Peter Vincent on the television again. How did he know help was coming? He couldn’t possibly be a real vampire hunter, could he? Was he psychic? Maybe he didn’t even mean her. That would mean she’d have to be even more careful. Wonderful.
“Tonight’s film is a torrid tale of deceit and blood as a tarot reading goes awry.” It seemed Peter had finished talking about Emily and his other fans. “Starring the beautiful Annette Wildstrom and Jackson King, I present to you, ‘A Time For Tarot’.” Peter let out a remorseful sigh. “Alas, I do not appear in this film.”
As the movie started, Buffy was frowning. She supposed it could have been a coincidence… But maybe it wasn’t. Still, it was something she should look into. Unfortunately Buffy found herself yawning. It was later than she’d thought and she still had work to do in the morning. She turned the tv off and pushed her research to the side of the bed, her current goal to catch some wanted sleep.
Where : Des Moines, Iowa.
When : The week of January 19-23, 2009. (Not long after Peter's post.)
Rating : PG/PG13.
Notes : Hey look, it's Buffy!
Buffy Summers spun around, the heel of her booted foot connecting to the vampire’s jaw sending her prey stumbling back. In the time it took for him to recover the Slayer had already introduced him to Mr. Pointy on an intimate level. Buffy pulled the stake from the vampire’s chest before the body collapsed into ash and dust, but she took no respite as she was already dodging a fist from the remaining vampire. As the fist went past her, she sidestepped and a moment later the last of the vamps was dust.
Buffy let out a bored sigh and spun her stake in her hand. “That was the kind of fun that isn’t.” She slid Mr. Pointy back into a pocket of her coat and started to take her leave from the cemetery. It was a quiet but chilly night in Des Moines, Iowa. She was pretty sure she’d never get use to non California weather, but at least it was a change of pace. After Sunnydale collapsed and the original Scoobies helped reboot a new and hopefully improved Watchers Council, Buffy had seen her sister off to school and started her own little working vacation. It was easier to catch a break from being one of the two most important slayers of the council than she expected it would be. She had to thank Giles and Andrew’s brilliant idea for setting up ‘doubles’ to pose as her. She was still aware of one in Rome but the other was still underground as far as she knew. It also helped that she’d gotten a phone call from Riley Finn with a tip on something in Iowa that could be up her alley.
Apparently there was a serial killer in the city, one with a knack for skinning a person’s face off. Buffy remembered wondering why Riley would think it was a job for a slayer and then he told her about some of the details of the crimes that the police withheld from the public. Each crime scene lacked any blood trace of any kind and there was no sign of what could have skinned the victims’ faces off. Everything was too neat and clean. Riley’s contacts believed it to be magic or demonic in nature so he called the Watchers Council looking for help. There had been a bit of deliberation on whether or not to follow up on the information, but Buffy had decided that she was going to look into it with or without help. It was partially because she felt she owed Riley that much and partially because she wanted to do something and get out of the land of tweed. She missed the states. She didn’t however miss the cold snap that was apparently affecting the area.
Once Buffy reached the street she pulled out her car keys and headed for her car. It didn’t take long for her to find herself behind the wheel and basking in that invention called the heater. She drove in silence, stopping at a drive through for a very late dinner. When she arrived at her motel, she went inside, locked the door behind her, and set her things onto the table. She flipped the television on and headed for the shower, not paying any attention to what channel it was on.
*******
Buffy settled on her bed with a sigh and began to munch on her fries as she waited for the commercials on tv to die their horrible death. Scattered around on top of the bed with her were a variety of articles relating to the killing spree. Apparently the killings had been going on for over two months and there were already seven murders and there was no real connection to each other that anyone was aware of.
Dramatic yet somewhat cheesy sounding music followed by a creepy cackle and the phrase “Fright Night,” poured out of the tv’s speakers, forcing Buffy’s attention back on the screen. The scene was of a cemetery set that was obviously fake and fog was covering the ground. An older man stepped out from behind an iffy looking weeping angel statue. He had silver hair and a plaid Inverness cloak (how Buffy knew that she still wasn’t sure) over Victorian styled clothing. “Welcome… to Fright Night.”
Buffy sat up straighter and tilted her head with interest. She remembered this show. When she was a kid, before she was called, she’d sneak and stay up late to catch it on tv. The last she remembered of it was that it was an L.A based show. She had no idea it was still on, let alone that it was broadcast outside of Los Angeles. What was the host’s name again? Peter Ishkhans? “No, that’s the stylist guy…” Buffy frowned. It was Peter something, she knew that much.
“The world around us is a terrifying place.” Peter was talking again and Buffy was once again focused on the screen. “Evil lies in wait around every corner, pushed back into the shadows by the few that are courageous enough to take it on headfirst.” He was pacing now, the cameras forced to follow him. “Why just this evening I had a brush with a most ferocious demon… He thought he had the best of me, me!” He was indigent at whatever had occurred. “I am Peter Vincent! The great vampire killer!” He spoke with pride and a dramatic flourish that made Buffy snicker. “I fear no demon and will use all my power to keep this world safe for all of you out there.”
Buffy reached for the remote, her desire to start channel surfing had decided to come out of hiding as Peter spoke about some fan mail he’d received. But before she changed the channel, Peter caught her attention again.
“I received a letter the other day, from an Emily in Des Moines, Iowa.” Peter stared at the camera with morose expression. The name and the location had Buffy’s mind reeling and she started to sort through her articles again. “It would seem that she has suffered a tragic and needless loss, a reminder that we must remain ever vigilant in dark times… But worry not, Emily. Help is coming.”
“Aha!” Buffy pulled out a sheet of paper as she skimmed it. One of the victims was a Meredith Hill, a single mom in the suburbs. “Survived by a seventeen year old daughter, Emily.” Buffy’s eyes narrowed and she stared at Peter Vincent on the television again. How did he know help was coming? He couldn’t possibly be a real vampire hunter, could he? Was he psychic? Maybe he didn’t even mean her. That would mean she’d have to be even more careful. Wonderful.
“Tonight’s film is a torrid tale of deceit and blood as a tarot reading goes awry.” It seemed Peter had finished talking about Emily and his other fans. “Starring the beautiful Annette Wildstrom and Jackson King, I present to you, ‘A Time For Tarot’.” Peter let out a remorseful sigh. “Alas, I do not appear in this film.”
As the movie started, Buffy was frowning. She supposed it could have been a coincidence… But maybe it wasn’t. Still, it was something she should look into. Unfortunately Buffy found herself yawning. It was later than she’d thought and she still had work to do in the morning. She turned the tv off and pushed her research to the side of the bed, her current goal to catch some wanted sleep.
tired