new orleans ♔ you ain't been to heaven til you been down there

[postergirl]

♬ New Orleans - Louisiana Gator Boys

WHO || Mark, Dumage, Kat, Gar, Buffy, Spike, Myri, Martha, Arthur, Finnick, Des [closed]
WHAT || All work and no play make Knights stir crazy. Various downtime shenanigans.
WHERE || The hotel / all around New Orleans / at the bar / in an alleyway / ETC
WHEN || Various dates during the course of May
HOW || w/e you want, bb

[ This log covers any non-work related shenanigans the Knights have while staying in New Orleans. Because we haven't finished out the other two logs yet, assume some time has passed since then, in case anyone was injured, so that they've had sufficient time to get better.

As for work stuff, you can assume they've been busy with establishing Finnick's fake rock star cred, and investigating some of the intel they'll uncover in those other logs that we haven't quite gotten to yet. JUST DON'T TALK ABOUT WORK and all will be well.


Make your own threads, don't fuss about tag order, feel free to threadjack multiple people into one thread for hang-outs, ask me if you want a certain scene with an NPC, etc. forever whatever.]

Comments

[selfrevelation]

[ ♬ Ghost As she steps back, the can rocks slightly in place, but doesn't fall over, and then finally settles into not moving at all.

It takes Buffy a moment with that spot check to realize she's not alone in the alley anymore not counting the passed out hobo. It isn't as if the guy suddenly sneaks in behind her so much as it feels like he was always standing there, and she somehow didn't notice until now. It's an unsettling feeling, particularly given that he's standing several yards away from her, one hand casually in the pocket of his crisp suit jacket, not looking at all put out by what just occurred. In fact, his expression is remarkably neutral - casually interested, curious maybe, but not surprised in the least. And he's definitely watching her, sparing not even a glance at the trash can and the creature that might still be banging around beneath it.

The man is of slender build, with features that make it difficult to pinpoint his age. There is something remarkably youthful about his face, but at the same time, there's a weight in his eyes that seems to speak of long experience.

As strangely innocuous as his first sudden appearance was, his presence seems to cast something of a large, indefinable shadow. When he finally speaks, his tone seems to be of no accent in particular, without being American either. The miracles of writing, I can say things that don't seem to make any sense and force you to come to grips with them.

Anyways. ]

Surely, you don't intend to leave it there.

[slay]

[ she feels him more than she sees him enter the alley, and it's not just the way serious presence he's got going on. still, she moves to crouch briefly and check on the hobo to see if he's alive, glancing up at him when he speaks. ]

Surely you don't expect me to tell you what I am gonna do with it. [ her eyebrow arches. ] Who're you? Pest control? 'Cause if so, something tells me you've been slacking. [ while she snarks, she sizes him up. he doesn't look like much, but at the same time, she doesn't trust that. he's way too calm in way too shady of a place being way too lurky to not be somebody. ]

[selfrevelation]

[ The hobo smacks his lips, that green stuff dribbling off into his grizzled beard, but he seems totally fine. The acid doesn't seem to be burning him up or anything either.

So that's good.

The man in the suit just watches her with an inscrutable expression, before saying simply: ] Pest control is not my job, no. [ There's something significant in the way he says it, as if it's someone else's job, very specifically. ]

I suppose you may call me Mr. Gray.

[slay]

[ wow. that's so much less suspicious. not. she straightens up once she's sure hobo-chan is alive. ]

Buffy. Now that we're all properly introduced, maybe you could tell me what you want. [ because she was going to call gar but N O P E. not with him right here. not when shady mcshaderson is up in her biznass. ]

[selfrevelation]

I know who are you are, Miss Summers. [ There's no threat in his tone; it's simply a matter-of-fact statement. ] And I would say that this isn't about what I want at all.

This is about your... potential, shall we say.

[slay]

[ GETTING SKETCHIER BY THE MINUTE. she eyes him warily, lifting her chin in quasi-defiance just because she does not like this guy knowing so much about her when she knows nothing about him except that his last name is gray (probably true) and he's not in pest control (definitely true). ]

Unless my "potential" is the potential to win the Publisher's Clearing House grand prize and you're here to bring me a big fat check, I think you've got the wrong girl. But, thanks for stopping by.

[selfrevelation]

How long have you been troubled by dreams of vampires?

[slay]

[ that gets her to stop dead. she should walk away. he's obviously bad news of the capital Bad variety, but ... he knows. she doesn't know how much he knows, but somehow he knows that about her, and she hasn't told anyone but maybe wynn and jack. jack was clueless, which means ... which means he might be the only person who can tell her why she's having them. ]

Who are you? [ a beat. her brow furrows. ] I don't mean your name. I mean who are you, and how do you know about me?

[selfrevelation]

Who I am is ... inconsequential. You should know that I mean you no harm and bear you no ill will. [ There's an incredible amount of reassurance in his voice. No, more than just his voice - he practically exudes some kind of calming influence. ] What you possess is a gift. My role was simply to awaken it within you. To... expand it, shall we say.

[slay]

You approaching me in a dark alley, knowing as much about me as I knew six months ago? Is not inconsequential. It's very consequential. [ okay, so he doesn't want to hurt her. doesn't mean she can't be annoyed with the way he dances around things. ] And you're here to, what, tell me how lucky I am? To expand my potential? What does that even -- [ a beat. ] Is this about what I can do?

[selfrevelation]

[ He nods slightly. ] It's about what you were born to do, in a manner of speaking.

There are those, Miss Summers, who are granted the honor of greater purpose in this world - in any world, as the case may be. They carry this seed of something more inside of them, waiting for the day it might take root in their soul and allow them to flourish into that which they are destined to be.

[ A beat. ] But for any seed to grow, it must be nourished. And granted light to guide its way.

[slay]

Okay, can we just cut the poetry along with any talk of carrying seeds?

[selfrevelation]

Merely a metaphor, I assure you.

[slay]

So, translate. Cut the flowers and sonnets and just tell me what you want from me.

[selfrevelation]

Not a single thing, Miss Summers, except to see you embrace the gift you've been given.

To see you learn to follow your instincts.

[ he takes a small step backwards, spreading both his hands, palms up. ] But my work here is already done.

[slay]

This is not a gift. [ she takes a large, cornering kind of step towards him. ] I don't even know what this is.

[selfrevelation]

Those granted great power are also granted great burden. [ did he just paraphrase spiderman? maybe. ] But none are given that which their spirits are not strong enough to shoulder.

You will see many things, things that your fellow soldiers remain blind to, and you will feel sometimes that you are cursed for having sight of them.

But you will see more deeply into the truth of things than they can ever hope to. And the change that you might enact will be more radical than what they could ever aspire to.

[ A tiny flicker of amusement flashes up his lip ] You might call it pest control.

[slay]

[ she's quiet for a long moment, and seems to genuinely consider this and the ~implications~ and other serious shit and then she just gets this ridiculous judgy look on her face and wryly points out, ] Can I just say you are like the worst Spirit Guide-slash-Fairy Godmother ever? If you were any more vague -- You couldn't be. It's just not possible.

[selfrevelation]

This modern lack of appreciation for subtlety never fails to astound. [ he seems to say it more to himself than to her, and abruptly breaks from his intense mysterious demeanor to do so, sounding a little put out. ] You're a demon slayer, Buffy Summers. Would you have preferred if I texted it to you?

[slays]

Make that snarkiest, too. [ she grumbles it as her lips purse into a thoughtful look, considering the implications of the term. "demon slayer." it seemed so ... ] So, what, you know my dreams, you know my strength, my name, now you know my number, too? [ she's trying not to address that he just spelled out "you're a demon slayer and you have a higher purpose buckle up" for her. she doesn't want to hear it. ]

[selfrevelation]

Comparatively easy to discover, in an era so devoted to communication.

[slays]

[ she arches an eyebrow and shrugs in a look that says 'well, can't argue that.' then she hesitates, silent for a moment. finally, she resolves, setting him with a firm gaze. stop with the banter, summers. you've been wanting this -- answers -- for months. and now you're freaked when you're getting them? no. ] I want to know more.

[selfrevelation]

In time. [ there's something final in his words, as if he implies them to be a farewell. ]

For now, it's enough to know that your eyes have been opened, and to learn to look with them.

[slays]

Opened to what? What am I supposed to be seeing?

[selfrevelation]

It's all very literal, I promise. Therefore, I'm not being cheeky in the least when I tell you, you'll see.