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 Home Again, Home Again, Giles
Willow Rosenberg
 Posted: Jan 1, 2018 | 11:10 pm
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player: Ren
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If nothing else, getting side tracked helping that tourist woman find the pizza place had given Willow the solid resolve that she needed to finally get her butt in gear. She'd been too long away and stalling and wasting more time wasn't going to help her friends any faster. If there even was anything that they needed helping with. The same little spell that had magicked her dead phone into her pocket also worked to bring her wallet along. The wallet even required less magic because it wasn't tech, much to the little witch's chagrin, magic and technology still had a long way to go before they could solidly become allies.

One short side trip into a small bodega, Willow left shortly after with a map of the city, a cheap compact and a new phone charger. She wasn't going to run the risk of trying to charm that into her pocket. More than likely it was plugged into the wall and since it hadn't come with the phone, the two had been no where near one another. But forcing the charger out of the wall, even with magic was more than likely going to cause bigger problems than she was willing to run the risk of right now.

The hardest part of this was going to be getting to a place where she could spread out her map without looking like a tourist. That was the one thing that she'd always been told when it came to visiting big cities, was don't look like a tourist. It wasn't that Willow was particularly worried about getting mugged, though it could still very much be dangerous; honestly it was just going to waste a whole lot of time that she didn't really want to waste. If she was going to stall, she was going to stall on her own time.

A quick stop into a Starbucks (It wasn't the Java Hut, but it was okay) supplied her with a latte, pastry and a table on which to plot things out on her map. Tucked back in a corner she tried to do the most subtle locator spell of her life. Spilling some of the sugar onto the paper and having it attracted to the spot like a magnet was a lot easier to keep on the down low than the usual faerie lights that accompanied it. The coffee helped fuel enchanting the contents of the map into the compact's mirror so it would work a little like a scrying GPS. She'd considered a questing stone, but wandering around with a rock on the end of a string along the streets of New York, while not the weirdest thing that it's citizens had likely seen, it wasn't very masquerade friendly.

Mirror in pocket and flaky tart in hand, it was much easier than expected for Willow to track down the apartment that seemed to hold their steadfast Brit. If anyone knew what was going on - Well to be fair, Giles was either going to have all the information or not a damn word of any of it. But it was always a good place to start from. Trying to keep her breathing calm, Willow had long since finished her snack and latte when she climbed the steps to the Watcher abode. She knocked and waited, explanation spilling out of her lips the moment the door opened.

"I'm so sorry, I was on another plane and I completely lost track of time! What happened, what does everyone need?"


Rupert Giles

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Rupert Giles
 Posted: Mar 23, 2018 | 3:32 pm
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Head of the Watcher's Council
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Giles was starting to lose track of the days. Sleep deprivation could have that kind of effect on the brain. He slept whenever he could, but he had become… ok, yes. He had become paranoid. He was worried that he would sleep, and in his sleep he would not notice the twitch of a finger or flinch of a closed eye that would tell him that Buffy was there, and that she needed him. His choices in beverages had slipped, forgoing his usual tea, skipping right past alcohol, and consisting primarily of coffee... and water, to ensure that he would not get dehydrated and, in turn, cinch that he would be able to drink more coffee. It was unexpectedly exhausting.

Speaking of exhausting, he was running out of books to read. He always shied from the day when reading would function as little more than a chore, but that day was rapidly approaching. He had not contacted anyone about sending different reading material, and he had not thought that more than a dozen books would be necessary during their stay. He had been wrong. Few of the books were for leisure, on top of it, so all he had been left with for company was a collection of spells, thermos, and speculation. It did not help his mood. He had received… guests. A guest, really, and none that placed him in a good mood. And he has spent some time away from the apartment in stretches during the night. There had been Tarwick.. and Alec... and all of the revelations that had come with them. Nevermind, that, though… not now…

He swore he was beginning to forget what people sounded like when they were not a part of the background noise that was the city. Maybe he was being a touch on the melodramatic side, but it was true that he had not had anyone to speak to (say that odd guest) in a month and some weeks. His voice was hoarse from lack of use, and he had found that he weighed his personal hygiene choices against leaving Buffy alone for too long. He showered, of course, regularly, but shaving had become something that the day stretched between, and laundry was a chore best done when it became desperate. He was not exactly dressed for company when the knock came at the door, his t-shirt rumbled, shirt and tie long forgotten in favor of comfort. Occasionally, he even favored going down to the local thrift shop and picking up a new shirt instead of spending the time to launder his already dirty shirts. A five minute walk there and back was better than the hour or two he would need to dedicate to the work.

Someone knocked at the door, and he tried not to start too violently. He had not been expecting anyone, but when he took a quick a quick look through the security spy, one of the few articles of security afforded from the cheap apartment, he was opening the door. Willow was already speaking the moment that he opened it to her, and it was enough to assure him that nothing about her had ever really changed. He let her speak, getting out her words of explanation, merely alleviated that she was here. “Willow,” he said, and the relief was clear in his tone. “You're safe,” he said. He was English, and Englishmen were not prone to hugs no matter how elated they felt, but his nerves were shot to the point of letting his manner slide. She was just at the tale end of her words when he reached forward and embraced her. He did not take long. It was just the explosion of alleviation of his worries.

“Of course,” he said, almost distracted. “Another plane. You can tell me all about it later. But please, come inside.” He welcomed her into the apartment, taking a brief look outside in the hallway to be sure that there was no one watching him welcome yet another young woman into his “home” before he closed and locked the door. “As for what we need...” He pointed toward the scene in the living space. At the wards, at the circle, and the sleeping woman inside it. At the chaos of the books from his own personal research, and the multitude of paper cups that came from the local coffee house. He would let her take it in, let her mind absorb it all. This really was up to her now...

home again, home again
 
tag: Willow Rosenberg / word count: 753 / sorry for the wait!

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Willow Rosenberg
 Posted: Apr 11, 2018 | 10:57 pm
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player: Ren
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As soon as the door opened, Willow was already speaking, but even so she could see exactly what kind of state Giles was in and she wasn't sure she'd ever seen him like this before. Unemployed and drunk was the closest she'd ever come and even then, this wasn't exactly the same. Giles looked exhausted, there was stubble on his face that Willow hadn't seen in a very long time. The sight of the Watcher like this gave her a pause, it told her that something terrible was going on. A stab of guilt washed over her as he spoke her name, she could have done something, if she'd been here this didn't have to have gotten so bad. She didn't know what happened, or who had been hurt, but the witch was certain that if she hadn't skipped realities, there was something that she could have done.

The hug cinched it.

Rupert Giles didn't hug people, not unless there was something that had or nearly had gone catastrophically wrong, like death or maiming wrong. As he ushered her inside, Willow was mute as the wave of magic hit her full force as she crossed the threshold. Maybe it was this thrum that had managed to help her locate Giles' apartment easier, but all she knew was that a lot of magic had been being used here and for a very long time. This was dimension magic, she'd just been using it herself she knew that particular taste on the back of her tongue. Coming up to the back of the couch to survey the literary bomb that had gone off in Giles' usually tidy living room, Willow's eyes shot open wide as she caught sight of her best friend laying in the middle of a warded circle.

"Holy Hera, what happened here?" While her impulse was to rush forward and put her hands on her friend, taking her pulse and seeing what she could do to help her, Willow knew better than to go crossing over circles like this, especially ones with as much power pumped into it as this one did. Still the shock quickly drained from Willow's face and it was replaced with a firm look of determination and resolution. Careful not to cross the line, Willow did walk around the couch to get a closer look at her friend and this circle. Hands up, Willow traced the edges of the magic, taking in what it had to tell her even as she addressed Giles behind her. She could taste sulfur on the back of her throat and that made her very nervous. She'd already dragged Buffy out of Heaven, something she would never forgive herself for, but allowing her friend to be stuck in a hell dimension longer than absolutely necessary? Something else completely unforgivable.

"Tell me everything."

Rupert Giles - Lets get going!

**Templet by Kef**



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Rupert Giles
 Posted: Apr 20, 2018 | 1:36 pm
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Head of the Watcher's Council
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For the first time in weeks, Giles allowed himself to temporarily lean, just lean against the wall. He knew it was best to allow Willow to take in the entire scene on her own. Her mind would piece together what he had done, and he could fill in the blanks after that. What it meant, though, was that he had someone that he could trust take the reigns for just a half moment. Nothing would happen to Buffy on Willow's watch, even if she did not know all of it. The way she carefully stayed outside the lines of the magic circle and only observed before she had more details was the mildest of indications of all that.

“The short answer to all that,” he replied to her curiosity, “Is that Buffy is in Hell.” Back on the job, it would seem. He was used to being the man with all the answers, who had done most of the research, and brought it together for others to work with and see. The chaos of the apartment meant it would be hard for him to show, so he would have to tell, a method of information lending that he did not prefer but would need to be the best for now. “Buffy learned a few things since the fall of the Hellmouth, one of those things being that, despite her apparent sacrifice during the fight, Anya's soul did not get to go to any place to rest. Rather, he contract as a Vengeance Demon meant that she only had one place to go...”

Hell... Giles did not like the rules. A part of him wondered where his own soul would fall on the cosmic scale. He did not wonder about it too much except in these little moments between crises. He had lives on his hands. He had killed in cold blood. He had sold his soul There was probably a special corner in some Hell dimension somewhere that had “Ripper” permanently etched in it. The day would come, and in the grand scheme of things (even looking at the average lifespan of a human being alone,) it would be coming sooner rather than later. There were days when he felt he had made peace with it...

“I don't think that sat very well with her. That, and her senses were telling her that she needed to do this. So, she asked me for help. To send her down there, after Anya. I think she always meant to bring her back.” He leaned down over Buffy, looking at her for any signs of change. Other than the roots in her hair growing out, it looked like she had not changed since the moment she had entered the circle and Giles and closed the ritual space. “That was weeks ago,” and he stressed the word to indicate that it had been more than just two or three. “I cannot break the circle, or we risk Buffy's soul being trapped in Hell, separate from her body here. I do not know what that will do. But she cannot stay down there, either. Her body is stable, but...” The souls of the living were not meant for Hell.

“All of my attempts to bring her soul back have failed.” He hated that word. “Failed.” He felt every ounce of it at his back. The weight of it dragged him down. He looked up at Willow, showing it all in his eyes, even if his tone and words would never say it. “She needs help. They both need help.”

home again, home again
 
tag: Willow Rosenberg / word count: 594 / ---

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Willow Rosenberg
 Posted: Apr 28, 2018 | 11:38 am
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player: Ren
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While she could clearly see her former teacher give in to a moment of weakness, Willow pretended with every ounce of her being that she couldn't. There were moments that one needed privacy, especially the Englishman and there was more than enough to keep Willow's attention to keep from watching him like a fish in a bowl. Guilt gnawed at Willow's insides, turning them into oh so many snakes, and every one of those snakes felt just as guilty as she did. She should have been here... weeks... at the very least well over a month.

In Hell.

"No... Buffy never would have wanted her stuck down there..."

Back to Hell... for real this time...

It seemed that Willow was finally going to be able to make good on her promise of getting Buffy out of Hell, considering how well she'd managed to bugger that up last time -

No, self, this isn't guilty time, this is thinky time.

"I know for a fact that you've gone above and beyond trying to get them back, get her back. Now I've got your back and we're going to get them."

Giles had been, what looked like, on his own this entire time, trying to get this handled alone. The slightly crazed tiredness that she saw in him, the weariness in his eyes stung. They'd long since moved passed, all the Scoobies, into thinking any of them was anything less than human and it wasn't anything to be held against someone, but seeing Giles so tired still moved emotions in Willow's heart that was almost too much given the other news she'd just recieved. She was here to help fix all of this mess. Anya.. That had been months past that their little hometown became a very large hole in the ground. And every second in most Hell's was like an eternity. And it wasn't like Anya had exactly been on D'Hoffryn's Hanukkah card list after the last time they'd seen each other...

"In theory that means they're likely trapped either in Arashmaharr or in a dimension very close by to there. Any chance that you've been able to narrow down maybe which one?" In a pinch they should, considering her body was right here, be able to track Buffy's essence specifically if it came right down to it. Pulling her phone and charger out the pocket of her skirts, Willow walked over to a wall and plugged it in, setting the little phone on a desk full of papers that were very clearly not written in English.

"I really.. Really hate thinking this way because it's very... 'The Old Lady Who Swallowed a Fly' but it's something that needs to be considered. If you haven't been able to get them out, that leads me to believe that they're stuck. There's not a doubt in my mind that Buffy's at least found a way to get them together, so we find one and we'll be able to find the other. Whatever that thing is that's keeping them stuck, they're gonna need help getting out of it. Which means..." Willow's face scrunched a little, she bit her lower lip as she hated every second of this more. She wanted to be able to just wave her hand and have them both back safe and sound, but magic didn't work that way, especially dimensional magic, "We very likely will need to send someone in after them, someone with a magical rip cord that can just be pulled once they're all together and we should hopefully be able to drag them back out. All of them."

Rupert Giles - Lets get going!

**Templet by Kef**


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Rupert Giles
 Posted: May 21, 2018 | 8:38 pm
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Head of the Watcher's Council
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Just the act of speaking to another human being was something that needed refreshing in the old Watcher. Unless it was to a clerk or someone in passing like the landlord, he had very little interaction with people over the past few weeks. The last time he had truly ventured outside of the apartment, he had ended up on the other side of an interrogation table from a Shadowhunter. To say that he had become a recluse was an understatement, complete with the confusion of his new label of “witch.”

Not a problem for right now...

Having a fresh pair of eyes on all of this was just what was needed “You see, I had that theory,” he said, walking over to his desk, and fetching his glasses from the top of one of the dusty tomes. He shuffled through books and copies until he found a collection, a sorted pile that worked around the magical theory that Willow was referencing. “Unfortunately,” he said as he moved, not with the intention of causing guilt but rather as a statement of fact, “With no one else here, I could not risk diving into the astral magicks myself.”

There it was. He pulled out the book that had loose paper stuck inside it to keep the place. He opened it up smoothly, bringing into the light the series of rituals something like this might take. “It would require at least two people. One person would need to stay in this world. Technically the second person can either astral project, the way that Buffy is now, or they could travel there physically, with enough magic. Neither of them is easy, but both of them are done safest with a tether to this world. I... I was supposed to be Buffy's tether, but...”

The words faded off with a touch of guilt and failure, lingering between them. Whatever he felt about Willow not answering her phone for weeks, he clearly blamed himself immensely more for not being able to help Buffy and Anya the entire time he had been here. He laid out the materials in front of him and Willow. He was still ever the teacher, still ever the one prepared to lead others around him, but...

[b]“I can easily get the materials needed, but we need at least one other person who is willing to go into Hell, and find them. The trouble is, we don't even know if they are in the right Hell, so we need to be prepared for a fight. So far... no one else has answered my calls...”{/b]

home again, home again
 
tag: Willow Rosenberg / word count: 431 / this sucks, but EXPOSITION TRAIN

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