5510/The Librarian: Is It Still a Date if Nobody Dies

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The Librarian: Is It Still a Date if Nobody Dies
Date of Scene: 07 October 2018
Location: Bludhaven
Synopsis: Sam and Buffy stumble upon graveyard secrets in pursuit of the undead priest, and the Librarian's items. One of those secrets stumbles upon them! Sorry Willow, it's still not a date.
Cast of Characters: Willow Rosenberg, Sam Winchester, Buffy Summers
Tinyplot: The Librarian


Willow Rosenberg has posed:
It was a perfect autumn evening: clear with a peppering of stars blinking brilliantly against the pitch black of the skies. The air a crisp reminder of what was still to come, along with periodic gusts of wind that teased at the trees and scattered fallen leaves into tiny whirlwinds of despair. The scene of woodsmoke and rotting vegetation lingering in the air.

The little church is much as Sam remembers it: boarded up and abandoned, tucked into an odd space between developments, and a backing wooded area. Where he and Agent May had encountered those things that had crawled up out of their graves, there was only a crumble of uplifted dirt about gravemarkers. Not even the mossied dust of them remained, blown away, no doubt by previous winds, or beaten into the earth by fall rains.

The place is otherwise eerily empty and desolate. Other than the fact that for a place that has long ago been abandoned, it's been meticulously kept.

Sam Winchester has posed:
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Sam's Cricket was a far cry from Baby. Not even close to the same league, but it beat taking the bus to Bludhaven so there was that.

Bringing the car to a stop, Sam opens the door and extracts his lanky frame from within the little car. "Anyhow, like I was saying the things in the graveyard didn't like headshots, or decapitation. Not sure what else works on them."

He walks around to the truck and pops open the veritable armoury he has back there. He selects a sturdy fire axe before calling out. "Want anything?" he's fully loaded with the usual hunter toys.

Buffy Summers has posed:
Generally speaking. Buffy was a big fan of public transportation, Lyft and Uber. She did not drive. She had attempted to drive and she learned that Buffy and cars were unmixy things. Those were her words. She could take out a half dozen vampires without breaking a sweat but put her in the driver's seat only if you wanted a disaster of epic proportions.

As for the car? She couldn't care less. It ran and she didn't have to pay money so double score for the win.

"I don't use a gun," she said as she got out of the passenger side, readjusting her messenger bag against her hip as she walked to the trunk. She let out a low whistle of appreciation when she saw the goodies within. "I have to say I'm impressed but no thanks. I've got my own." She reached into the messenger bag and a withdrew a hand axe. It was in perfect condition making it seem new yet it was of an ancient style and design. While the axe had no really amazing abilities, it did have a hell of an edge and didn't seem to ever get dull.

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
The graveyard is quieter than the outlying area, but there is sound. Muffled, but sound. The ground is soft and spongy, and gives beneath the pair's footsteps. Other than the crumble of uplifted dirt about those few gravestones, the place looks utterly normal and untouched from the last time Sam was here.

All except for the fact that someone has looped the chain back into the shed lock, and padlocked it again. Though without inspecting the lock properly, it's hard to say if it's been locked, or merely set to look so.

Sam Winchester has posed:
"No problem," Sam says taking a pistol out of the trunk, checking chambering a round and sticking it the back of his pants. "And thanks," he says with a smile about the collection.

He helps himself to a few more goodies, hastily stuffed in his messenger bag before taking a moment to oggle the axe. "Nice," he says. "Is that new or just really well cared for?"

Hefting his fire axe, he grins, "Because either way, I'm having serious axe envy."

Sam nods towards the church, "Entrance to the graveyard is around the back," he leads the way. "So tactically, how do we want to do this?" he asks, before they hit that muffling effect.

"Right," he says speaking up to try and cut through the effect. "Forgot to mention this place did that."

Buffy Summers has posed:
"That is weird," Buffy says as she hears the way all the sounds are just absorbed by the area. She has to raise her voice a little to be sure she is heard. "Tactically speaking, I generally just walk in and see what tries to kill me. It's worked so far," she says with a shrug.

She does look around at the various tombstones, letting her senses expand out to try to pick up on anything. Hopefully if there are any monsters around, her early warning system will let her know there is something in the region, even if it won't say right where they are.

She does heft the axe, answering his question as they approach the shed. "This was a gift from a god. Literally. We sorta got off on the wrong foot but in the end, had a grudging respect for each other so he gave me this. So it's new. Sort of. I think he just created it on the spot."

Sam Winchester has posed:
"Well, that makes it offical, you are waay cooler than me," Sam says lightly, if loudly to fight through the dampening effect. "Which god?" Because after all they live in an era where that's a valid question.

"And okay your tactics are a lack of tactics, got it, mind if you go first then? Do your thing, I'll pick off guys when they come after you."

He points with his axe towards the crypt with the lock back in place, "Someone's been here, the lock was broken when we left, let's start there,"

Buffy Summers has posed:
As he motions to the crypt, Buffy heads that direction. While she is on guard, it certainly doesn't look much like it. No sneaking from headstone to headstone. No hand signals instead of speaking. Just walks up the path right to the door.

"I was way cooler than you before you learned about the axe," Buffy quips with a smirk. "Oh, and it was Ares." She stops in front of the cript. She nudges the lock with her axe instead of touching it with her hands. See! Not completely stupid! Of course if there are wards there, she might be in for a rude awakening.

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
The lock, it seems isn't locked. It's merely been placed through the loops of the chain to look like it has been fastened shut. To most observers, it would pass that test. Of course, most observers wouldn't be poking at the lock with an ax.

As Buffy rattles the chain, the ambient noises about the place muffle further. There's a single cry of hootowl that cuts off mid call, along with a flutter of wings that is one moment loud, and the next, too far away to be heard.

The air, while still - too still - has an almost electric feel to it; the kind of feel that raises hair upon arms and the back of necks.

Notably, the chain does sound out in the quiet of the space. Chink of link upon link; heavy, dull sounds like footsteps grinding upon one another.

There is no echo.

Sam Winchester has posed:
"Ouch," Sam says with a grin. "I'd argue but I think you might be right."

As to the axe. "Ares? Huh, my money was on Thor."

Though, axes, war, it makes sense. Sam's movements through the graveyard are more measured, his head is on a swivel and his axe is held in both hands across his body, ready to fend off whatever might jump out at him. Especially as the muffling effect grows stronger and the hoot is cut short.

"Not at all creepy," he manages above the muffling. "No wards last time, should be safe to knock the lock loose and check inside."

Buffy Summers has posed:
"Haven't met Thor yet. With my luck, I'd stab him first too. I seem to do that a lot when I meet things." Not people, but entities. Monsters, gods, whatever. If it triggers her achy pains as a warning something is weird, she has learned to stab first and ask questions later most times. Thankfully most of the good guys have proven resilient enough to survive that sort of welcoming party.

When the lock moves to show it isn't secured, Buffy reaches out with her free hand to grab it, intending to slide it free and then scoot the chains out of the way. If that works, she will place a hand on the door and try to open it.

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
The lock, it seems, is a terribly forgiving thing. And if there's anything unsual about it, Buffy's hand upon the thing doesn't register it. Nor does it trigger anything. At least not at first glance.

Sam might notice that while the padlock is old (and presumably the same as the one that was here before?), the chain is new.

There doesn't seem to be anything unusual about the chain, either, but then again, neither of Sam nor Buffy are magic weilders. On a purely non-magical level (and perhaps even on a magical one) it's a lock and chain.

As the chain slithers away from the door, there is more of that heavy thunk thunk thunk like footsteps as the links bump into one another. Only where there was no echo before, there seems to be one now. Though that could just be a product of the door opening and creating an echo chamber.

Sam Winchester has posed:
"Huh, glad to be exception... Wait? You /stabbed/ the god of war?" It's a good thing he already got the Buffy being cooler than him thing out of the way, because that would have cinched it.

Then it's time for business as Buffy slips the lock off the chain and opens the door, Sam turns as she does it, making sure everything and everybody currently in a grave is staying there.

"All clear behind us," he reports. "A what turned the sound back on?" he asks, keeping his eyes on their six despite the sudden noise.

Buffy Summers has posed:
"If Spike jumps out of here and says boo, he's finally going to get staked," Buffy mutters under her breath, the sound probably heard since the noise shifts back to normal just as she's saying it. Isn't that how it always works? At least she wasn't screaming to be heard when it happened.

"I don't like the thunkity thunks. For the record."

She makes sure to swing the door wide open, allowing for any ambient light from the outside to help with the inside. With her free hand, she reaches into her bag and withdraws a flashlight. Axe in one hand, flashlight flaring up with a bright beam in her left, she goes to move into the crypt. She does manage to resist yelling to ask if anyone is home before she does. Giles would be so proud.

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
As before, inside the shed, there are no windows. The interior of the shed is neat - everything in it's place, and a place for everything. Even the wood planking of the floor looks to have been swept clean. While it might not be all that unusual for a graveyard shed, there are an awful lot of spades hung inside it.

Buffy would be right to be leery of the *thunk thunk thunk* as, while the links of the chain are no longer rubbing against one another, the heavy sounds continue to linger in the air, and they aren't coming from within the shed.

What had seemed to be an echo behind the door that crept out and surrounded the pair, was, in all actuallity, answering noises beginning to rise up from the graveyard itself. Much as if the continued presence of the Hunter and the Slayer on thse Hallowed (?) grounds has triggered something.

Buffy's senses should be starting to not only niggle, but pinging wildly now, as the *thunks* become focused and directional.

Sam, looking out for Buffy's back, gets to see why first: of the 9 gravestones in the graveyard, Sam might remember that 3 had revealed themselves prior, and been dealt with by he and May. Now it seems their buddies are picking up where that last fight left off. First chalk-greyed fingerbones crawl out of small spots in front of several of the gravemarkers, and then arm bones. Then a head. Then shoulders.. You get the picture. Each reveal punctuated by a *thunk* of sound, eerily reminiscent of what might be a groan in another monster.

Sam Winchester has posed:
"Who's Spike?" Sam asks, before he clues in, stake, vampire, got it.

"Noted and agreed upon, seeing anythi-" he begins, before the first hand bursts through the dirt.

"Uhh, we've got a night of the living dead situation back here," he says gripping his axe defensively, right now, he's letting the things come to him.

Buffy Summers has posed:
"Seriously? Night of or Dawn of? Cause they were totally different," Buffy asks as she keeps her flashlight beam inside the crypt. "If we tiggered the guards, someone doesn't want us going inside here."

She glances back his direction, watching as the things begin to crawl out of the small spaces they seem to have been stored in. "So, I'm thinking we go inside and close the door. I'll hold it and you do some poking around to see what they are trying so hard t hide? Or we just switch places. I'll play with the pasty undead while you do the smarts bit on the inside?"

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
The things are slow and lumbery - so it seems. But then again, they're not fully out of their graves yet. The air is permeated with the smell of seaweed and salt water. When the first leaves its entombment, it moves. And fast! If they're going to head into the shed, it's now or never!

Sam Winchester has posed:
Nodding as he falls back towards the crypt, "Sounds like a plan," he says just as one gets free and sprints towards them.

"Actually," he says as he gets past the threshold. "More like 28 Days Later." What with the fast zombies and all.

He reaches for the gun at his back just in case the thing gets through before Buffy slams the door in its face.

Buffy Summers has posed:
"Whoa!" Buffy sums up things with that one word. She quickly slams the door shut and looks for some way to block it. Which seems to be her. Great. This may be a shorter stand-off than she had originally hoped. Unless there is some sort of coffin or something they can try to get in front of the door to help.

"They are kind of nimble for being animated dead bodies. Search quick. Figure out what they don't want us to find."

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
Inside the shed there isn't anything bulky to block the door. Lots of tools hang on the wall - one supposes they might be used to brace the door somehow? There doesn't seem to be any barring mechanism on this side of the door at any rate. If this was ever meant to be a place to hide out from attacks, it was poorly planned. In fact, now that they're on the inside, it might occur to one of them that the shed seems to have been much more designed to keep something in than keep something out...

Outside, there are the sounds of banging against the door. Low, hollow sounds coupled with scraping noises that aren't quite as offensive as nails on a chalkboard, but carry echoes of that kind of wrongness. One can almost *hear* bits of wood peeling away in thick splinters cracking and breaking away beneath non-existant fingernails.

There are no vocal sounds. No chattering. Just scrabbles, scrapes, and thunks.

Sam Winchester has posed:
"Guess we're back to Night of the Living Dead," Sam says slipping his gun back where he had it, though this shed wasn't much of a farm house.

Seeing they were on bad ground for a last stand Sam gets to searching, tools are yanked away from walls to check behind them, if nothing catches his eye, even as he shudders at that haunting hollow noise from the door, he hacks into the floorboards as a prelude to prying one or two of them up.

Buffy Summers has posed:
This is where Slayer strength comes in handy. Certainly she won't be holding them off indefinitely but for now, Buffy's strong enough to keep the monsters at bay. She does point out the positive of the situation. "At least there are no windows for them to break through!"

Nevermind that the will have to go back out that door to exit and thus through the zombie horde. Wait, is that a horde? "Hey, how many are in a horde?" Utterly random question but she asks anyway because the thought is there.

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
First things first: the spades. Their handles are study, but not unbreakable (Buffy amongst the crowd might ponder an alarming similarity to stakes going on there). Their spade heads are not only clean, but sharp, their edges sharper than are rightly needed to dig dirt. Speaking of which, who hand digs graves anyway?

Outside, the noises continue, but there are odd breaks to the thunks and scrables. Like waves pushing forward and receding. Only there's a change to the quality of the sound that is difficult to put one's fingers upon. More distant? Less forceful? Less insistent? Something.

Sam, however, in his cleverness, has created a whole new problem. His first blows to the flooring crack up splinters of boards. Continued hits snap first one board, and then another in half, and up. There are most definitely long floorbaords that can be lifted and jammed about the door handle and frame to keep the thing from being pulled open.

The big question is: does he keep removing floorboards now that he's broken bits free?

Sam Winchester has posed:
"True," he says. "But only one way out."

"Two or three gangs worth," Sam answers glibly about the size of a horde, as he hacks at the floor boards.

When he yanks up one board, he checks beneath it and if there's nothing to see he keeps going. Calling out, "If they get in, and you need another weapon looks like those spades," hack. "We're sharpened by someone." Hack again.

Buffy Summers has posed:
"Oh good. Then this definitely isn't a horde. Maybe a small raiding party. Or maybe a quartet for bridge." Buffy isn't sure how many of them are out there exactly. She just know she needs to keep that door closed until they figure things out.

At the mention of the spades, she looks up and frowns. "Why do those things look sharper than my axe? I mean, I'm not into gardening but are the weeds /that/ bad around here?"

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
The sounds outside seem to keep drifting away. Less thunks. More scrabbling. The scent of saltwater and seaweed mingles with the distinct smell of rot, and a bubbling ooze slips underneath the doorway, curling about Buffy's toes - she didn't really like those shoes anyway, did she?

Sam, meanwhile, lifts a board, and notices as he checks, that there's a depression beneath that board - like the boards beside it don't sit right upon the ground. They're flush and all to the other boards, but beneath them, there's something of a lip into darkness, and something pale coloured just beyond sight underneath the boards still lining the shed floor.

Sam Winchester has posed:
"Heh," Sam says, as he keeps yanking up the boards. "Hm, should be a quartet and a half, I think," that is if he did the math right. "And what do you call a group of zombies anyway? A shambling?" You know, like a murder of crows or a ramble of otters.

"Okay, we've got some pale stuff and a then maybe a pit..." he says whiping his brow. ""How are we with the door? I want to see if I can get a better look." For all the horror movie references he's made tonight, you'd think he'd know better than to set himself up like that. 'Getting a better look' was right up there with 'let's split up.'

Buffy Summers has posed:
"I think one of them had an accident. Oh that is so gross," Buffy mutters as she picks up a foot and tries to flick the goo on to the door. There is a reason she wears boots when she works. Tonight they weren't even one of her favorite pairs. "And what is with that smell? Saltwater. Something plant like, maybe seaweed? With a nice eau de zombie rot to top it all off. Why the ocean?" she asks curiously.

"Wait. A group of otters is a ramble? That is the cutest thing I have ever heard. I mean, I thought ramble was a verb and here I find out it's a bunch of cuteness overload." Focus, Buffy. Monsters just on the other side of the door.

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
The goo, disgustingly, is totally flickable. It's even strandy, like rotting, melting seaweed, only worse, because it clings to both her shoes and the door. And yes, beyond the rot, the smell of saltwater and seaweed is distinct. Whatever these things are, they're not from around here.

Sam is only partially right. It's not a pit.

When he bends to dig further at the boards, his fingers stumble across what can only be best described as a hidden knot in the wood, and once he does so, there is a distinct *CLICK* of sound that echoes in the shed, and hisses with escaping air - though the air is not as stale as one might expect it to be.

The pale lipe underneath the boards, now that it is revealed, looks to actually be a stone casement. This is confirmed if and when he pulls up what turns out to be a doorway - the planking revealed to be two-sided hidden door, much as old farm houses had leading into the root cellar... Now who was it was complaining this wasn't your average farmhouse shed?

Outside is another *single* thunk - a very loud one - and a long, drawn out scrape down the doorway. And then, after a silence, the distinct sounds of the door rattling, and grunts of effort. Like someone straining.

You'd have to be closer to the door or paying more express attention to the sound for more.

Sam Winchester has posed:
"Oh god, I think I can taste it," Sam says between making gagging sounds. "If one of them had an accident, someone needs to market Depends ot zombies... gross."

He keeps pulling up boards, trying to see what they're dealing with.

"Isn't it?" Sam agrees about the otters. "Ever see the clip with the otters chasing the butterfly..." right Buffy isn't the only one who needs to focus here. He wipes his brow again and gets back to it.

"And we have a door," Sam announces as he pushes aside another plank to let it clatter on the floor. The thunk at the door drowns it out.

"What do you think? We want to check this out?" he asks. "Or do we go Butch Cassidy and Sundance and try to fight our way out the front?"

(OOC: The clip: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a8IVyC0Q6-k )

Buffy Summers has posed:
"First, I have a question." Buffy continues to strain to keep the door in place, ignoring the muck that is soaking around the bottom of her boots. She is beginning to regret the pizza though. Her stomach is starting to roll around in their and not in a good way. Throwing that in with the pains she has telling her there are monsters about--in case she didn't notice the rotting corpse that came running at them--and she's ready to go take some ibuprofen and call it a night.

"This door opens out. So if you wanted to keep out someone, it would open the other way." The sounds of someone straining outside distracts her and she turns her attention there, trying to hear exactly what it going on before continuing. "Normal crypts open inward." She's been in enough of them. Hell, Spike lives in one. "So, what is down there that someone didn't want to get out? Is that what the sea monkeys outside are all about?" They do have that weird rotting smell kind of like brine shrimp so. "To keep us from letting something loose?"

Sam Winchester has posed:
Where was Buffy with this logic when Sam and May were here? Probably would have saved them from an undead priest on the loose.

"Right that makes sense," he says about the place being built to keep people in not out. "Maybe all of this was for the priest guy May and I fought the other night?" he wonders aloud. Though if it had been and he broke out the place wouldn't have been so neat and tidy.

He glances down at the door. Either it was empty or there was something else down there waiting to get out.

He looks back up at Buffy. "I figure we take care of the Sea Monkeys then figure out what to do about the door, and whatever is going on with those shovels."

Buffy Summers has posed:
"Sounds like a plan." Buffy can't help smiling since their earlier plan was about as sound as this one.

They were going to fight zombies. Then they were going to find out what was behind door number two. She hoped it was a new car.

Sam really needed one.

"Say the word and let's do this." She prepares to stop trying to hold the doors on his cue.

Sam Winchester has posed:
Sam's lips twitch a little too, it wasn't much of a plan but it's what they had.

He takes a look at the axe in his hand, and then lets it drop, picking up one of the spades instead, giving it a little test swing and nodding in approval.

"The word," he says by way of kicking things off. Bad jokes in times of stress, it must come with monster hunting.

Buffy Summers has posed:
As he gets his weapon of choice, Buffy takes a step back from the door while holding it still closed. Then she jumps back, drawing her axe out and drapping into a stance next to Sam.

"Keep count. Whoever loses has to buy the pizza next time."

And with that, the monsters have their chance.

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
While the two debate whether or not to open the shed door or not to open the shed door, something of Schrodinger's undead is going on. Which is to say, there's a final rattle of the door and a satisfied grunt of sound, and then silence.

When it becomes apparent that the monsters aren't going to open the door to the shed, and the pair inside brave opening it, they find..

An older woman. Tall. Sturdily built. Possibly of Scandinavian descent - it's hard to tell, she's really quite that old, but she most definitely was a blonde, by colouring.

She stands tall and erect, and fairly eminates power, but that aura slowly dissipates even in the short moments from opening the shed door to the pair laying eyes upon her and ascertaining that other than the spade in her hands, she's quite likely not a threat to the pair.

At least not an immediate one.

The woman grunts as she looks them over, turning the spade down so the point digs into the soft ground, the vile ooze that was creeping around Buffy's feet out here as well, but that, too, is dissipating.

After checking them out, she grunts again, and nods.

"So you're the idiots who broke the seal."