Freedomtown IC

So, this podcast I was listening to said it can stimulate a baby's intelligence in the womb if you play them music once a day.

So, today I put my headphones on my tummy and played the baby some Body Count. Pretty sure playing "Talk Shit, Get Shot" to my unborn child automatically puts me in the running for mother of the year.

Alright, folks... time for what was originally going to be a weekly thing, but is being changed to monthly because I have the attention span of a crack baby.

SLAYER OF THE MONTH!



This month, we're gonna put the focus on someone who's truly shown the growth and change most people only wish they had the strength to accomplish. Kayla Barnes started her journey as a slayer by being full of unmanaged rage, and had a chip on her shoulder the size of Galador.

She caused some damage, had a scrape or two that shouldn't have happened, and broke a few hearts... but over time, she grew to be many things I wouldn't have expected from her when we met: sweet, nurturing, kind, mature, and someone anyone could feel comfortable looking up to. She went from one of the "black sheeps" of the slayers, to being a talent show host that was looked at in a motherly way by most of the contestants. From someone who people were afraid to get close to, to a loyal friend, a loving wife, and most importantly here, one hell of a slayer.

Love you, KayKay. If Gabe could see you now, he'd be proud as fuck.

To all Slayers, Watchers, Significant others, honestly, anyone fighting the invaders:

Let's get together Saturday night at the End Zone.

What's up, everyone? For those of you who don't know me (and really... if you don't, shame on you. I'm fucking awesome), my name is Gwen Morrison. As a proud Slayer, I've decided that with so many of us around here, it's easy to get lost in the crowd... so each month, I'm gonna spotlight one slayer (or in the case of this first month, TWO), making sure everyone knows how goddamn bad-ass each and every none of us are.

SLAYER(S) OF THE MONTH
The Faiths (aka Faith Lehane, versions 1 and 2)


As has been pointed out by a few of us now... I'm pretty damn sure there is literally no reality in which Faith Lehane exists where she's not a total, utter, 100% bad-ass bitch.

When I got here, the slayers (being from all different realities and timelines) were in a bit of disarray. A version of Buffy Summers that was here at the time was trying to organize the girls a bit, but then she was lost during The Purge. That's when Faith-Prime, we we'll call her (thanks, Sin, for the Crisis Nicknames) stepped in, took the Scythe, and started helping us all remember that we're sisters in this.

And then, after I presented the idea of making us more of a team, Earth-2 Faith (seriously, Sin. I owe you for these) stepped in and started getting the ball rolling on getting us a place to gather and train.

And when The Empire invaded? You shoulda seen the two of them. Boston must produce some tough bitches, because these two were out there making every damn Stormtrooper they saw regret ever putting on the armor.

Show these gals some love, ok?

After all the fighting, I need to decompress. I need my Tony, not boss Tony. (I wonder if it's alright that I call him my Tony. Can you come over or do you want me to come there?)


All the slayers were awesome, I'm so proud of my slayer sisters. Good job.

Slayers

There's no way some shit isn't about to go down. We're going to spread out throughout the cities. Check in and say where you're going to be.

Faith

So idea - We buy the building next to the gym for a place for the slayers, watchers, whatever.

You know what one of the things about home is that I miss?

The slayers feeling like a sisterhood.

For real: we had weekly meetings, training sessions, gatherings just for the hell of it... we were family.

I know we got a few slayers here, too - so why aren't we closer? C'mon, really. Let's change that.

When someone has been sleeping in your bed and they disappear, how do you get over it.

I come home, look at his side, and get all depressed again. I miss being in his arms.

I thought I was over this, apparently, I'm not.