(first stake) video ✧ open to both courts

[ the locket swings jarringly into action -- like a camera stuck to a pendulum, shuddering back and forth and only occasionally picking up a stern-eyed blonde. ] Ugh. Whose idea was it to glue a webcam onto a necklace--

[ there! steadied. there is first a grimace and then a forced smile and then a flutter of girlish eyelashes. ] First order of business? Those of you still bumming around the Station -- could you tell me how those repairs are coming along? I'm feeling a serious oncoming modernity craving. Like, a gallon of lattes and underwear that doesn't require learning whole new categories of knots.

Second: does anyone know how to make a quick buck outside shilling it for either court? [ she is not a fan of either of the caers. ] Preferably while also maintaining some facade of dignity.

And third and last but absolutely never least: does the name Sunnydale mean anything to anyone? Y'know, anyone other than the someones I've already talked with. [ hey! it's worth asking. doubly so now that it looks like she's here for the long(ish) haul. double ugh. ]

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They do when they don't exist where you're from.

Wow. Sucks to be from where you're from.

Aye, you have no idea. No food boxes, no running water. An' th' toilet's just a hole in th' ground covered by a plank of wood.

[THUNK goes another arrow in her target.]

A plank. Of wood.

Ugh, I hate ye olden times.

[ but here is an appreciate pause for the arrow work, at least. she's a crossbow gal herself -- but hey! impressed nevertheless. ]

I'm startin' t'see some merit in this world.

[Even if she does miss the comfort of her own bedroom, the stables and - more importantly - Angus (and her mother, a part of her admits).]

An' time bein' frozen back home is a bit of a blessin'.

[She won't say why though.]

I'm just not so sure we can believe that.

If we can't have hope in time bein' stopped back home, what can we have hope in? Th' High Kings an' Queens? I don't think so.

[She just really wants to believe it, because time constraints :v]

You're not a fan of'em either, huh?

Hardly. Who th' heck yanks the moon right out of th' sky?

Megalomaniacs. They do.

Meg...

[Yeah she's not even going to bother trying to pronounce that.]

If they're anythin' like the Roman Emperors I've heard about, I take it they're crazy?

Just a little. Not to mention rude.

Aye, it sounds like it.

-- Seelie or Unseelie, for you?

Unseelie, but I care not about either.

[She feels the need to emphasise that.]

You?

Previously Unseelie. But now I like to think of myself as more of a...uhm, freelancer.

[ whatever that means. buffy isn't even sure. ]

What does freelancer mean?

[It's not a word she's heard of before :c]

It means you're your own boss. [ ... ] Or maybe it means everyone is your boss.

I'm not clear on the deets yet.

Get back to me when you figure it out.

[Oh.]

My name's Merida, by th' way. Merida of Clan DunBroch.

Clan! [ well. ] Guess that explains the accent.

Aye, I'm from Alba. Er, Scotland. I think that's what a few people have called it.

Scotland. Cool. Very cool. Apparently I --

[ okay so this is weird to say but! ] A close personal friend assures me I end up in Scotland. Soonish. You know, would've landed there even sooner if I hadn't have been dragged here before I could.

Och, they have terrible timin'. I'm...supposed to be doing somethin' important back home.

[She shakes her head.]

I hope ye don't end up there when it's winter. It gets cold as th' Cailleach comes a-callin'.

No offence, but I'm not exactly looking forward to it. It's a big leap: California to Scotland.

California? Is that... [Where had that boy called it? She tries her memory of the word.] ...in Amurica?

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herotypical - 2014-11-03 13:57 (UTC) - Expand