eachdraidh | (third stake) video ✧ unseelie only

[ bless her, she comes from a time before the selfie was adequately popularized. and yet buffy summers seems to have an instinctive knack for propped her locket up on her palm and holding it just so -- capturing her own ennui-stamped face in one corner and (over her shoulder) introducing the world to pretty little winter-blanketed river scene. one might assume she's in the vicinity of land carved out for his baronliness archer's spire and forts. hah. spire and forts. hello, innuendo.

anyway. she exhales with a puff of her cheeks and stares down the locket. you'd almost think there was no war at all by how little attention she pays it. purposefully, buffy seems to be ignoring the court drama as best she can. running away -- sour, perhaps, for a number of reasons. ] Some of you might've met-chatted-made-buddies with a girl named Dawn. She's gone. Sorry about that. [ and presumably that's why buffy looks like she's been mainlining angst straight into her veins.

otherwise: ] I need hammers. And...probably nails. Power drills will also be appreciated but I hear that might be a bit of a pipe-dream. We could also probably use pipes. I think.

See. This is why you gotta hate a war economy.

Oh! Those really really really big iron bar things. You know, the ones with the thin middles and the wide edges. The ones that co-star in all the wacky old school cool photoshoots hanging over city skylines...

[ but at least she's still bothering to help build unseelie fortifications. she's not ready to sally forth and kill, yet.

buffy's rambling. she tries to stop. except-- ] Wait! A few more things. Which one of you mooks is Professor Spaniard? The rest of you...I dunno -- be careful out there.
[ she went there. ]

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Not one with fairies, no. At least -- none that I've met yet.

So, safer there then?

Honestly? I'd say it's about an even split.

Jeepers!

What war are you fighting there?

[ the first evil, among other things. ]

Oh. You know. Tax collectors. Social services. The ever-pressing threat of plaque build-up.

[ aka: she doesn't want to talk about it. ]

Oh right. The really big evils, huh. [She giggles.]

The unholy trifecta. Served ruthlessly by postmen and those people who lean their chairs all the way back on airplanes.

...What's an airplane?

It's ah -- uhm. Plane. That flies in the air.

Don't have those where you're from, huh?

No. They used to have airships, but that was a long time before I was born. I've only seen the wreckage of them.

-- What happened?

[ wait. does this have to do with cultists again? buffy frowns. ]

They all wore out and broke. [She grins and shrugs.] Same thing that happens to everything.

[Nope. Not about cultists. Whoops?]

And nobody fixed them? Don't you have any...airship mechanics?

Nope. Not in forever. But even if we did, we don't have the parts anymore. Or the magic.

Or anywhere to go, really. [She shrugs.] Can get to all four islands by train now.