sunnydalealum: (Jordie)
Jordie's learned a lot of things since the woman from the Watchers' Council first found her and told her what she was. Not all of them were learned at the Slayer Academy; and of those that were, not all of them were part of anyone's lesson plan.

This week, she's learning how to muck out goats.
sunnydalealum: (Academy grounds)
There aren't any guards posted outside the doors of these rooms, just a single sentry at the end of the hall, and the doors themselves aren't locked. The three young women in the rooms are in a position somewhere between house arrest and honorable parole.

Jordie's in the second room on the right.
sunnydalealum: (Jordie)
Dear Spoon,

Sorry I havent written in so long but things have been pretty crazy. We finally got to the bottom of the thing with the demonic mosquitoes, it turns out this insane magician was breeding them & some escaped. We tracked him down & made him summon them all back again, I got a couple bites but don't worry, theyre already healing up.

Its good to be back in the USA but I'm starting to miss the Academy, does that make any sense at all? Being a Slayer's different when your on your own. Please tell everyone I said hi especially Sarge, tell him I'm working hard & remembering the training.

Anyway I have to run, I'm patrolling in about twenty minutes & gotta gear up -- bringing my wristblades!

take care,
Jordie
sunnydalealum: (Academy grounds)
It's final exams week at the Slayers' Academy. Which means that about five young women were called in by Sarge at the beginning of the week, and told something to the effect of Right, miss. Sometime this week you're going to get tapped by surprise and put through twenty-four hours of whatever we can throw at you. Can't say what day, can't say when, but you've got to outlast the clock and acquit yourself well, 'cos surviving unharmed by hiding under the bed's for pussies.

The workout rooms off the upper-level armory are usually deserted this late at night. But there's a light on in one of them, and a familiar sound coming from inside: the thrup-thud of feet moving rapidly from one stance to the next, the flat slap of wood or flesh against padding.
lord, give me grace and dancing feet / and the power to impress
Jordie's there, alone in the room, beating hell out of a training dummy with one of the practice fake-Scythes.
lord, give me grace and dancing feet / let me outshine the moon
Which is a circumstance that would make a lot more sense if she hadn't finished her exam about four hours ago.
sunnydalealum: (Academy grounds)
Historically, as a rule, the funeral of a Slayer has been a quiet affair. On occasion there have been families to make the arrangements, but most of the time, the parents and (if any) siblings have long since lost all contact with their daughter, whether deliberately or not. The Council has always seen to it that the Slayer is given a decent burial: a hardwood box, and six feet of consecrated ground, and someone to say the words, and the Watcher as sole mourner.

This, like so many other things since the Call, has changed.



It's the first time they're all back together again in over a year, the women who came to Sunnydale as Potentials and fought the First Evil there as Slayers. Caridad and Chao-Ahn, Rona and Vi and Shannon, half a dozen others. Many of them died in the battle at the Hellmouth ... but Kennedy is the first of them to have died since then.

So they're here, and so are newer Slayers who had Kennedy as their first combat instructor, and field Slayers who had her as their team leader. And so are at least one ex-lover, and at least one current one. About four-fifths of the Slayers are in somber black; the rest are in equally somber white.

Kennedy's parents and her half-sister are here somewhere too, in the crowd. Buffy and Giles are talking to them.

Soon someone's going to stand up front and start the memorial service.
sunnydalealum: (Academy grounds)
It's early January, and warm for this time of year in these latitudes.

Wells is inside the building, in one of the interminable Council meetings.

Spoon is outdoors, which is probably better for everyone.
sunnydalealum: (Wolfram & Hart)
It's not worth the effort, at this point, to make herself firmly visible.

Instead, Meg concentrates on making her voice as loud and solid and present as possible as she zips through the building, ignoring such petty obstacles as walls and floors and extremely surprised lawyers and mentally checking off sites of battle: "All out! Everybody out!" she shouts to Wells and Spoon, and "They're coming down, get ready!" to Buffy and the others in the lobby, and "We're all done, it's time to go!" to River and Spike, and "Find the others, get out now!" to Harth and Mel, and then back to the first group again, as fast as she can.

Everyone has to hear.
sunnydalealum: (Buffy)
Still no signal from Meg. By this time she should have shown up, even if everything else has run into a wall. Especially if everything else has run into a wall.

Twenty Slayers and two werewolves can't stay unnoticed for long. They're not inside the Somebody Else's Problem field yet. At least the winter weather means nobody will look askance at their long heavy coats -- but it's a gamble that nobody will be able to tell they're all concealing weapons under them.

Buffy's pacing back and forth in a slow prowl, shaking her head. "Something's gone wrong," she says flatly.
sunnydalealum: (Jordie)
The phone buzzes at the Wells farm, twice, three times.

When someone picks up, the voice on the other end of the line is thin and worried. "Is Spoon there, please?"

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