::Tristan:: Mess I Made

[Buffy Anne Summers]

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As if things weren’t bad enough, now she had to deal with a new potential. Usually she enjoyed speaking with younger girls and giving them the choice that she had never been given. She always gave a potential three options when telling them about what they had been chosen for. The first one was to go to Rome under the ruse of going to a special boarding school in order to be trained. The second option was to stay with their family in their hometown and have a watcher sent to them in order to be trained by that watcher. (If they were in Richmond or Mystic Falls at the moment they would be trained by her until a watcher was placed with her). Third option was they could have their memories wiped in order to forget the whole conversation and they wouldn’t be bothered again.

It was surprising how few of potentials actually chose option 3. She had a feeling that if she would have been given the choice at the age of fifteen when she had been called she would have chosen option three no questions asked, but it seemed people were more giving than she had been when she was that age.

Right now was not the time however to try and deal with potentials. She had left Kathy with Willow at the apartment when she had gotten the phone call from the seer saying that another potential had been found. She would have usually said to wait a bit but with Angelus on the loose she couldn’t take the risk of a seer leaving a message on the answering machine at the house and Angelus finding the potential first. Not after what he had done already. No, she wouldn’t let him hurt anyone else. She was waiting for a object to come in the mail and then thankfully Willow could get the spell on the house to de-invite all vampires from the house, which would make life a lot easier…however either way things were bad and she was stressed.

Buffy took a deep breath before getting out of her car, walking up to the house where the potential currently lived. Ringing the door bell, she waited for the girl to answer. Hoping this would go smoothly, though knowing instinctively that it most likely wouldn’t.

Nothing was simple in her life anymore, why this should be any different she wasn’t quite sure.

Word Count:: 433
Tag:: Tristan Kalina Trevino
Outfit:: Click here for Buffy’s outfit
Note:: Sorry this post sucked. Lack of muse plus a lot of distractions equal a very bad post. lol

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[tristan]

everybody's waiting for you to break down.

The attic had always been the same -- cool and dimly-lit and strangely calming despite the amount of dust behind its boxes -- except for a couple of little things. One of them, she supposed, was a little bigger; a piano wasn't exactly little. The moment that Rhiannon had given up on playing the piano, it had been moved from the living room to the attic (with a lot of sweat on her father's and two uncles' parts). It had joined in on the dust-gathering until Tristan Kalina Trevino had reached high school and discovered it.

Now there were a couple of extra mismatched lamps up there, throwing the room into pools of yellow-tinged light, and a fair amount of the dust had disappeared. It was the place that Tristan could think, where she sat at the piano bench and made pencil marks in a spiral-cord notebook that she pretended was a real book of music. She'd taught herself to play, she supposed, with the aid of a few old music books she'd found in a nearby box and a couple of newer ones that she'd added to their ranks.

The doorbell rang downstairs.

Tristan hardly heard it over the beautiful notes emitting from the piano before her, and she sat still, frozen, a statue for a moment as she listened intently. Whoever might or might not have been at the door didn't knock or ring the doorbell again, and she'd almost decided to simply ignore it and place her fingers lightly over the keys again -- but, just in case, she stood and hurried over to the tiny, oddly-shaped window, a triangle, in the corner of the attic, leaving forward to peek out onto the street.

There was a car parked at the end of the driveway. Sighing, Tristan warily made her way down two flights of stairs and into the front hallway. She was the only one home right now, and she couldn't make sense of who it could possibly be -- because who would come to visit her? Perhaps it was someone trying to... to sell something. She'd seen that before. She could just say no, very politely, and turn around and go back to her attic.

Or maybe the person at the door had left, fed up with how long it was taking Tristan to get to the door. That would be nice, wouldn't it?

Finally, she turned the doorknob -- cautiously, as though opening the door too fast would be deadly -- and opened the door just enough to show her face, wide blue eyes and pale skin. The woman on the door was pretty, blonde hair and blue eyes just like Tristan's. She looked... cold, Tristan decided.

"Hi," mumbled Tristan, quietly, and possibly her words were whipped away by the wind outside; she couldn't be sure. "Who are you?"

[Buffy Anne Summers]

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Looking down at her outfit she rolled her eyes at herself as she waited for someone to answer the door. She truly looked like she always had. Sure her fashion had changed a bit over the years but really she still didn’t dress like the typical ‘slayer’ most of the time. Most of the slayers she knew dressed in jeans, jackets and tennis shoes. Oh no, not her. She had on a silk tan blouse (she had just gotten off of work), tight black skinny jeans that looked like they were painted on, knee high black boots, her cross necklace that Angel had given her when she was sixteen and a stake hidden within her boot. She usually would have taken the stake out and left it in the car but usually potentials needed some convincing in proving that she wasn’t crazy so if the same was true with this one she’d end up taking her out tonight and showing her exactly what it was that they were capable of doing.

Her thoughts were broken by a brunette girl opening the door, looking annoyed that someone was there at all. Buffy took a deep breath before settling into ‘big sister slayer mode’ as Dawn and Willow liked to call it and threw on a soft smile that would hopefully put the teenage girl at ease.

“Hi. My name is Buffy Summers. I needed to speak with Tristan Trevino…is that you?” She asked, but didn’t really wait for a response for continuing, knowing that they would most likely be there all day if she let someone else set the pace. She had to make sure she was back an hour or so after dark. She didn’t know where Angelus was and while she didn’t doubt Willow’s spell casting capabilities, she knew what Angelus was capable of as well and she didn’t want him to hurt anyone she loved.

That in itself would kill Angel just as much as it would kill her when she brought him back…and she would.

“I need to speak with you Tristan.” She stated with another soft smile. “May I come in?” She asked, and this time did wait for a response.

Word Count:: 413
Tag:: Tristan Trevino
Outfit:: Click here for Buffy’s outfit
Note:: I wonder if Tristan and Buffy will get along? Buffy tends to be a bit bratty when it comes to potentials…but then again she usually has her reasons. *Shrugs* Let’s see how this plays out.

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[tristan]

everybody's waiting for you to break down.

The woman wore dark jeans that seemed as if they were somehow what her skin was made of -- that's how tight they were. Black boots and a top that looked a little too fancy for coming to knock on a stranger's door. A smile, then: "Hi. My name is Buffy Summers. I needed to speak with Tristan Trevino." As Tristan's eyes widened slightly, she added, "Is that you?"

Tristan only stared at her. The woman seemed to take this for a yes, and shot another smile at her. "I need to speak with you, Tristan." What did she want? "May I come in?"

She felt an overwhelming need to say no sweep over her.

This woman was a stranger, after all. Buffy Summers -- Tristan had never heard of her, never met her, never seen her before. And now here she was, standing on the front steps, smiling at Tristan as though she'd known her for her entire life, asking to be let inside. Surely there was some sort of protocol against that? Thinking back to what she'd learned from her parents as a small child, she thought there might be. Of course, given that it had been a good fifteen years since one of those lessons and her parents had taken to believing that she could take care of herself, she couldn't be completely sure.

If her parents and siblings came home from... wherever it was that they had gone -- dinner, was it, or a movie, or a birthday party, or...? -- and found someone they didn't know sitting in their living room, drinking tea or Tristan's always-terribly-made coffee or whatever it was she would inevitably ask for, what would they do? Would they be angry? How would it compare to that one time, back in the tenth grade, when Tristan had been working in the florist shop for the second time ever, and somebody from Richmond High had ventured across the Falls to throw a rock through the window?

"What do you need to" -- Tristan broke off, swallowed just a little too loudly, or so she thought -- "what do you need to talk to... her... about?"

[Buffy Anne Summers]

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Buffy immediately made sure to make a mental note immediately that she had not invited her in. This was a good thing and a bad thing. There were much safer ways to invite someone in and to not actually say the words. She had a feeling it would come before long and she needed to make sure to listen for it if it did. She didn’t need to say the words ‘Come In’. She could simply motion to the open door and let Buffy draw her own conclusions, which was something that if she didn’t do that would need to be rectified immediately. She knew it sounded crazy but that was the first thing she tended to teach anyone who was learning about vampires. She had to continue to remind some people (her younger sister for instance) but it was something that would keep them a lot safer in the long run once they realized she was telling the truth.

She realized that Tristan had asked her something but it took her a few seconds to catch up. She really needed to stop getting lost in her thoughts before someone thought she was nuts. Okay, that was probably coming soon…wouldn’t be the first time, but either way, she needed to stop zoning out…for her own safety if nothing else. “Alright, this is going to be hard to believe, but I need you to listen to me before you say anything, okay?” She asked, hoping the girl would be a bit easier to convince than some of the others she had met with. She really didn’t have the patience today, though she tried to be as soft and patient as she could be.

The blonde slayer took a deep breath before channeling her inner Giles and letting out a speech that she had once hated with every fiber of her being…she still did sometimes. “In every generation there is a chosen one…she alone will stand against the vampires, the demons, and the forces of darkness, she is the slayer.” She stated before rolling her eyes. “Yes, it’s a lame speech but the gist of it is true. You are a potential slayer. That means that you have the potential to stand with us and fight vampires, demons and other things that try and hurt other people.” She stated, and let that sink in before trying to go further.

Word Count:: 426
Tag:: Tristan Trevino
Outfit:: Click here for Buffy’s outfit
Note:: Sorry about the lameness of Buffy in this one with channeling her inner Giles…she’s stressed. Lol

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[tristan]

everybody's waiting for you to break down.

There was a long pause which the woman seemed to spend thinking very hard about what to say. "All right," she began, very abruptly, effectively snapping the brittle silence in two, "this is going to be hard to believe... but I need you to listen to me before you say anything, okay?" Tristan nodded slowly, door still nearly shut with only her face visible.

The woman took a deep breath and began, tone far more ominous, more serious. "In every generation," she began, sounding as though she had said whatever it was that she was about to say a hundred times before, as though she were concentrating very hard on repeating something that someone had told her once before, "there is a chosen one. She alone will stand against the vampires, the demons, and the forces of darkness. She is the slayer."

For the first time since she'd half-heard the doorbell ringing from up in the attic, it occurred to Tristan that perhaps this was somebody's idea of a joke. Maybe the woman had been hired by some amused students from her graduating class, from Richmond High, perhaps even from Mystic Falls High, though she was almost completely certain that the graffiti was far less extensive there.

"Yes," muttered the woman before her, rolling her eyes, "it's a lame speech. But the gist of it is true. You are a potential slayer. That means that you have the potential to stand with us and fight vampires, demons, and other things that try and hurt other people."

It had to be a joke. It had to be someone coming up with a strange story that was going to pull Tristan in, and then they would jump out from behind the bushes edging the front walkway with a video camera and wide grins, laughing. But if it was orchestrated that way, they were hiding rather well -- she squinted at the darkened shadows around the pathway and confirmed that they were, in fact, simply bushes -- and it was working, after all. It was reeling Tristan in. Something about how strange the idea of slayers was, as well as the sheer confusion brought in by this woman discussing vampires and demons as though she actually believed they were real -- it made Tristan want to believe her.

"Vampires and demons and other things that... try and hurt people?" Her voice was hushed and she gripped the doorknob tighter as she spoke, as though she needed its support to hold her up. A lifeline, a doorknob. Surely they could mean the same thing. "And this -- slayer... kills them?"

[Buffy Anne Summers]

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The blonde slayer could see at once that the young girl thought she was joking. “Yes, the slayer kills them. And no, before you ask, vampires and demons aren’t the same thing. There are lots of differences in which I will explain to you later depending on what you choose.” She stated, getting a bit annoyed by the fact that they were having this conversation pretty much through a door in the middle of the day. She sighed, trying to figure out how to get this girl to trust her, at least enough to open the door and let her in. This wasn’t something she wanted everyone else to hear.

She took a deep breath before continuing. “I was just like you, until I was fifteen.” She stated, taking a picture of her back pocket. She handed the young girl the picture of herself when she was at Hemry High School. “I was skinny, Ms. Popular, and a complete bitch. I had no tact and I didn’t care about anyone but those in my circle of friends who I deigned were good enough to be friends with me. I hated myself but I didn’t know how to change myself…didn’t know I needed to.” She told her, before continuing. “And then I was called as the slayer. When I was first called, there was only one of us. One slayer in the entire world who did what they did until the next one was called.” She told her, leaving out the fact that one slayer was only called when the one before her died. She’d get into that later.

“Also, when I was called…we weren’t given a choice. We were told that the fate of the world rested on our shoulders and they didn’t give us a way out. You are lucky. You can tell me to go screw myself and I’ll be on my way and you’ll never have to think another thing about it.” She told her before smiling. “Now, to answer a few of the questions I’m sure are rumbling around in your head. Yes, vampires are real. So are demons, witches, ghosts, werewolves, and a lot of other things that you used to be scared of when you were younger and your parents told you they were fake to get you to go to sleep…most of them are real in some form or another. “ She told the girl, hoping she would believe her.

“Now, I can answer any questions that you have, just name them. However I would prefer to continue this conversation in private.” She told her, motioning to the neighbor next door who seemed a bit too interested in what they were saying. “Can I please come in?” She asked, hoping that she would allow that much at least.

Word Count:: 482
Tag:: Tristan Trevino
Outfit:: Click here for Buffy’s outfit
Note:: None at the moment

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[tristan]

everybody's waiting for you to break down.

"Yes. The slayer kills them." The woman looked deadly serious. Tristan opened her mouth and the blonde -- slayer, she called herself? -- added quickly, "And no -- before you ask, vampires and demons aren't the same thing. There are lots of differences, which I will explain to you later, depending on what you choose." She looked annoyed, as though she did this far more often than she would have liked, and still as if she were simply reciting a speech. Hadn't she said that there was one slayer? Why had she memorized this conversation, then?

Sighing, the woman continued. "I was just like you, until I was fifteen." She pulled out a photograph and handed it to Tristan, who unfolded it with trembling fingers and found a picture of the woman before her, several years younger. She narrowed her eyes down at the picture, concentrating hard because that was, quite obviously, what was required in this situation, as the woman continued. "I was skinny, Miss Popular, and a complete bitch."

Just like Tristan?

"I had no tact and I didn't care about anyone but those in my circle of friends who I deigned were good enough to be friends with me. I hated myself, but I didn't know how to change myself -- didn't know I needed to."

She sounded like Tianna, like Annabelle, like Shea, like all of those girls who had graduated with Tristan, who had written on the bathroom stall doors about her, who had called her names and brushed past her in the hallway with spiteful glares. No, this woman hadn't been like Tristan at all.

"And then I was called as the slayer," the woman continued, appearing not to notice the thought process working itself through Tristan's wary mind. "When I was first called, there was only one of us. One slayer in the entire world, who did what they did until the next one was called. Also, when I was called, we weren't given a choice. We were told that the fate of the world rested on our shoulders, and they didn't give us a way out. You are lucky. You can tell me to go screw myself and I'll be on my way and you'll never have to think another thing about it."

Tristan opened her mouth again, but with a curt smile, the woman was still speaking. "Now, to answer a few of the questions I'm sure are rumbling around in your head. Yes, vampires are real. So are demons, witches, ghosts, werewolves, and a lot of other things that you used to be scared of when you were younger, that your parents told you were fake to get you to go to sleep. Most of them are real in some form or another."

Why wasn't she letting Tristan say anything? She was only assuming that Tristan was thinking a certain way, asking herself certain questions, and she'd been wrong, at least a little. Most people older than herself, who had graduated from Richmond High or Mystic Falls High before she'd arrived, bringing, apparently, cause for all of the graffiti and whispers, didn't act like this. They were nicer.

Perhaps this one knew some people Tristan's age. Maybe she talked to them.

Or perhaps, like she had thought before, it was a joke. A cruel joke fashioned by Tianna and her friends, sending someone to feed Tristan a pack of lies and see what she did.

Maybe there was a hidden video camera somewhere.

As Tristan's gaze flitted nervously around the darkening air outside her front door, the woman spoke again. "Now I can answer any questions that you have -- just name them. However, I would prefer to continue this conversation in private." The woman gestured somewhere to her left, Tristan's right; Tristan leaned out into the cool air and found her neighbour standing at the fence between their properties, turning away quickly and busying herself with her watering can again. "Can I please come in?"

If she was telling the truth... wasn't that something about vampires? They had to be invited in, or something, didn't they? Or some of them did.

Silently, hoping that this was, in fact, a proper loophole, Tristan stepped back slightly, pulling the door open enough for the woman to be able to slip inside. "Um." A pause, then she stepped back a little farther, pulling the door wide open until there was no space left, what with herself standing in between the cool metal doorknob and the off-white wall behind her. "What's your name?"

[Buffy Anne Summers]

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Buffy waited while the young girl collected her thoughts. She knew from experience that most of these girls had a million and one questions. Though it always tended to go one of two ways. Either one, the girls would have a ton of questions and she would answer them as best as she could The second way was the girls who immediately decide they wanted to know nothing of anything and Willow would be the one to wipe the conversation from their memory. It was easier that way. She needed to make sure that those who wanted no part of this world (and truly she couldn’t blame them) were safe from those who would try to harm them if they knew they were actually a potential slayer, if they accessed that power or not it wouldn’t matter to some.

People would go after those she herself tried to protect to hurt her…and it would work. She knew that and that was the reason she made sure that those she trained, where fully prepared before going into the world as a slayer. She hadn’t been when she had been trained. Merrick did his best but there wasn’t time. There weren’t other slayers out there picking up the slack while she was trained properly. That had changed now. And it had given her girls a lot more than fighting chance to survive.

She was taken aback by the one question the girl asked which was what was her name. She wanted to roll her eyes, as she had already given her name when she had first come to the door but resigned herself into doing this the extremely slow way. She was getting a bit annoyed as again, she didn’t want to get into this conversation with a bunch of people around but really what else was she supposed to do. She needed this girl to listen to her and she had a feeling that in order to do that she would have to give her name, rank, and serial number just to get past the damn front door.

“My name is Buffy Anne Summers.” She stated with a sign. “I’m 24…will be 25 soon. I was born in Los Angeles, California and lived there until I was 16. My parents got divorced and my mom and I moved to small town two hours away from Los Angeles, called Sunnydale, California. My best friends are Willow Rosenberg and Xander Harris. My sister’s name is Dawn Summers.” She told her, giving her as much information as she could think of. She pulled out her driver’s license and showed it to the girl. “Any more information you’d like?” She asked with a patient smile, though inside she was highly annoyed.

Word Count:: 501
Tag:: Tristan Trevino
Outfit:: Click here for Buffy’s outfit
Note:: Are you ever going to let her in? lol. Or should she give you time to think and leave her address so Tristan can come to her when she’s ready to learn?

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[tristan]

everybody's waiting for you to break down.

"My name is Buffy Anne Summers," said the woman through her teeth, as though she were extremely annoyed, frustrated with Tristan's cautious nature. Wasn't it a good thing, to be cautious of strangers? That was what Tristan's parents had always taught her, after all. "I'm twenty-four -- will be twenty-five soon. I was born in Los Angeles, California, and lived there until I was sixteen."

Well. Tristan hadn't exactly asked for a full run-down of the basics in this woman's life, but as the woman was continuing without giving her a chance to get a word in edgewise, so she kept quiet. "My parents got divorced, and my mom an dI moved to a small town two hours away from Los Angeles, called Sunnydale, California. My best friends are Willow Rosenberg and Xander Harris. My sister's name is Dawn Summers."

She pulled something from her purse and held it out; Tristan narrowed her eyes at it and found that what the woman was holding out to her was a driver's license. A picture of the woman in front of her -- Buffy? -- and her name, date of birth, every vital piece of information about her. "Any more information you'd like?" Now she wore a smile, wide enough to show her teeth, though something about it was off -- but, given that Tristan had never been around a great number of smiles, she couldn't tell what it was.

"You didn't have to tell me all that," she muttered, unsure if she said it loudly enough for Buffy to hear her. Buffy. What a strange name. Although, if she was being honest, she didn't really withhold the right to think anything of the sort about anyone's name. People thought things like that about her name -- because how many girls named Tristan did you come across in your lifetime?

The woman wasn't stepping inside. Surely Tristan had left a large enough space for her to to slip into the house? Did she need a clearer invitation?

What if this Buffy, this woman who claimed to be a -- a slayer -- what if she was a vampire? A vampire killing vampires, that was... interesting. Tristan frowned slightly. Perhaps she had to invite the woman in. The door had been flung wide enough for her to fit through the doorway if she had wanted to, as far as Tristan could tell. "Do you want to come in?" The way she said it, it came out as though she was bored. She wasn't. She was intrigued, cautious, confused.

[Buffy Anne Summers]

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She sighed in relief when Tristan asked her if she wanted to come in. “That would be great, thanks.” She stated with a smile, before smiling at the suspicious look on the young girl’s face. She pulled out her necklace so she could see it better. “No vampire will wear a cross, at least not most of them.” She stated with a laugh, knowing that some burned on contact from a cross, and some didn’t. She had never really figured out why that was, but she filed it away for another time and place. She really didn’t have time to analyze it now.

She then looked up at the sky with a smile. “Also, no vampire can come into the sun.” She stated, not elaborating on the fact that there were ways were vampires could walk in the daylight, though very few knew about them. “So no, I’m not a vampire. I swear to you I am what I say I am. I’m a slayer, and I won’t hurt you.” She stated before stepping into the young woman’s house, and letting the door fall closed behind her, sighing again in relief. The neighbor next door was becoming increasingly more nosy and she really didn’t have the emotional capacity today to deal with annoyances.

She waited for the young woman to lead the way into the house, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. She looked around what she could see of the house and it reminded her a lot of her mother’s house back in Sunnydale. Nothing was really similar at first glance but the feeling of it. You could tell that this wasn’t simply a house like a lot of the places that she had been in recently was. No, this was a home. It had a good vibe to it and she smiled at that.

She hadn’t really been able to get a read on Tristan yet, though it was becoming clearer and clearer. Usually she knew from a few moments upon meeting a potential if they were going to tell her to get the hell out or if they were going to want to start their training on becoming a slayer. She usually could tell those who were scared and skittish, they usually begged her to take back what she said, to which she would call Willow and have the memories of her visit removed and no one would be any the wiser. However with Tristan, she couldn’t get a feel on her and it was worrying her a bit.

Before she could say anymore she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. It was a text message from Willow. She groaned as she read that a police officer had been to the house looking for a missing girl. They hadn’t seen her but if a cop had been by that meant they knew that Buffy was there and that wasn’t something she had been prepared for this early in. “I have to go.” She stated, standing up quickly. She took out her card and handed it to her. “My cell number and my address is on that. If I don’t hear from you in a few days I’ll be back. You cannot tell anyone about this.” She stated, knowing that she shouldn’t leave but not having a choice.

Word Count:: 603
Tag:: Tristan Trevino
Outfit:: Click here for Buffy’s outfit
Note:: I originally posted this post on April 2nd. It’s now April 27th and still no post is up. I cannot see myself having the muse to come back to this. Hence me editing it, reposting it, and ending it.

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[tristan]

everybody's waiting for you to break down.

"That would be great. Thanks." The woman smiled, as though she'd been waiting for this all along, then tugged on a chain around her neck, holding up a cross hanging from it. "No vampire will wear a cross. At least... not most of them." She laughed, as if something about that were wildly funny. Tristan frowned slightly. "Also, no vampire can come into the sun. So... no, I'm not a vampire. I swear to you, I am what I say I am. I'm a slayer, and I won't hurt you."

Slayer. I won't hurt you. They seemed to contradict each other, but it was too late now -- the woman was stepping into the house and all that Tristan could really do was push the door closed behind her.

"Uh... This way," muttered Tristan uncertainly, then started down the hallway, not looking back to see if the woman was following her until she reached the living room. She sank down onto the armrest of the couch and then proceeded to simply stare at the woman before her.

It was only another moment, maybe a split second after Buffy sat down, that the woman pulled out her phone and narrowed her eyes down at the screen. "I have to go," she said abruptly, standing up straight until she reached her full height. Tristan looked up at her with wide eyes. Wasn't she supposed to explain further? She couldn't leave, not now --

"My cell number and my address is on that," added the woman, and Tristan reached out slowly to take the card being held out towards her. "IF I don't hear from you in a few days... I'll be back. You cannot tell anyone about this." Emphasis on anyone, Tristan noted, and a sort of threatening note in Buffy's tone. It frightened her, just a little. What would happen if she did tell someone about the slayer's visit? Would they believe her?

And, more importantly, who would she tell? The only people she could think of would be her family, and they would only laugh, roll their eyes, move on with their lives, because Tristan's strange story would be of no importance to them.

Tristan nodded, stood, led the woman back to the front door and watched her disappear. She wasn't sure how long it was that she stood in the doorway, her neighbour still gardening next door and tossing curious, nosy glances at her. Only after it had grown considerably darker and her neighbour had retreated inside her own house did Tristan do the same, and it was several minutes after that when she realized, in the process of trying to open a cupboard with one hand and get a clean glass down from the shelf with the other, that Buffy's phone number and address were still clutched tightly between her fingers.

Up in the attic again, a glass of water in hand, Tristan looked out the window and then down at the card once more. Buffy Summers. Then ten numbers, a street address. Simple and to-the-point. She sat down at the piano again, setting her water on the floor next to her. Placing the card in front of her, leaning upright where music was meant to recline, Tristan brought her fingertips back to the ivory piano keys.

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OOC: I am so so so so so sorry, Britt! I've been so busy and I'm trying to get more active lately, but the play's coming up and asdfadlfhjad it's difficult. </3 This post is super rushed and terrible... but I can start a new thread for them if you want when I have more time, because I think Tristan would find her with that card. XP

[ADMIN BRITT]