Difference between revisions of "9179/A dark and stormy night.."

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Latest revision as of 23:32, 13 September 2019

A dark and stormy night..
Date of Scene: 13 September 2019
Location: Darlington Park, Sunnydale (TBD)
Synopsis: Buffy meets a lonely giant in the middle of the night.
Cast of Characters: Buffy Summers, Swamp Thing


Buffy Summers has posed:
There's a storm rolling into sunnydale. It starts out as a slow, rumbling of thunder, and the occasional flashing of light and a few chilly wind gusts. Which is probably enough to send most people running home in the middle of the night, and on Friday the 13th no less.

However, for a certain Slayer, this is the perfect time to go on patrol, especially as she is trying to track down some strange events and missing people that have been repeatedly popping up in Sunnydale lately. So while everyone else makes haste to flee the park once those clouds roll in, she calmly sits on a swing, slowly propelling herself into the air as she peers up thoughtfully at the clouds.

Well at least she's wearing her snug and comfy purple hooded sweatshit with 'UGotham' emblazoned across the front in cheerful white (In Gothic font no less), and comfy black jeans to match. So she's at least fairly warm as the wind starts to whip in and small droplets of rain start to fall. Let's just hope it doesn't rain cats and dogs..Or demons..But isn't that what she's here for?

Swamp Thing has posed:
    The wind was howling and whipping around violently, the rain was coming down harder and harder, a preview of the true water works that would happen in a few hours. In the Great Swamp, a small ways away from here, the wind is powerful enough to blow the leaves right off of most of the trees, and the creatures of the wild button down the hatches as they know that from here it gets worse.

    Here in Sunnydale a different problem occurs, a great old dying tree experiences wind it hadn't dealt with in some time. The winds are impressive, but not violent enough to be any true danger to humans, or to the younger, stronger, healthier greens and woods that have been growing. But this old veteran has been made weaker by a lifetime of conflict, many of its branches brittle. A powerful gust is all it takes to cause the great old one to shudder and shake, before its limbs break and snap with a horrible loud sound. Beside the veteran, a tall figure stands with its hand on the bark. The shepherd of The Green is here, walking stick in hand, to ease the great old wood in its final decade before slumber overtakes it.

Buffy Summers has posed:
Buffy Summers can feel, and sense in other ways - the sudden changes in the atmosphere. She's not sure if this is just an ordinary storm anymore, although she tends to get attuned more to demonic activity than magical activity. Whatever the case, she slows down on her swinging, ears perking up to take in the slightest shifts in energy.

"Phew, it sure is getting cold out here. c'mon, vampires, let's get this over with.." She murmurs. But as that ancient tree not far from her creaks and cracks and threatens to fall over, she narrows her eyes, leaping from the swing, crouched into a defensive stance, more out of instinct than anything. She's ready for anything, even large old trees falling in her path.

And that's when she sees the tall figure next to the tree, his features hidden in the shadows and darkness of the storm. "Hey, who's there? You'd better get out of here, that tree looks like it's on it's last legs..Or last roots I should say." she smirks at the analogy. But she doesn't relax from her stance, not sure who, or what this tall figure is. Waay too tall to be a human. Is it a vampire or..Something more sinister?

Swamp Thing has posed:
    "There...is life yet, in this one."

    The ancient voice bellows out, a deep rumbling that almost matched the bass and intensity of the first branch snapping and breaking. The figure reaches down to pick up that massive 'branch', something that would take a crew of three and a couple of power tools to accomplish. It was slung over the being's massive right shoulder, as the once-man slowly turns to regard the blonde in the stylish sweatshirt.

    This figure was, perhaps, not as stylish as her. Moss and vines, with thin jagged branches sticking out of the green 'skin' every so often even as grass and leaves somewhat simulated 'body hair' along the creature's body. That face was distinctive, with sunken in eyes that were red with yellow pupils...actually. Were those eyes? They functioned the same, it was easy to see them focus and operate the way eyes often did. But it was entirely possible, that they might actually have been olives.

    Translucent olives.

    "Last...legs. It has been some time...since I have heard this used."

Buffy Summers has posed:
Buffy Summers arches a brow as the massive figure tends to the giant tree, picking up a massive branch like it was a matchstick. "What the hell..." she narrows her eyes as she takes a couple of cautious steps towards him, tensing slightly at what she sees. "Some kind of..Swamp demon? What are you doing here? Where'd you even come from?" Buffy is not sure if he's friend or foe, but she is not about to take any chances. She continues to circle him, still trying to determine if he's hostile or not. That's right, just keep on talking..

Swamp Thing has posed:
    "'Demon'...no. No, I do not believe I am. Speaking in rhyme and riddle, delighting in their petty cruelties. I...found nothing...to like, when I ventured to their empire of dirt and maoschistic futility. And I shall not..align with them or their...ilk."

    Was he choosing his words carefully? Or was this just the result of a creature speaking without lungs or a respiratory system? Of a plant needing to create oxygen, for the sole purpose of expelling it to perform the action of speech?

    "I come from the earth itself. From the Green and the wood. I am...and have always been, its shepherd."

Buffy Summers has posed:
Buffy Summers frowns, tilting her head as she peers curiously at the large green..Plant..Guy. "Um..." his words are so..Strange. Almost eloquent, too educated for some run of the mill demon, but then she recalls her meeting with the poetic Dracula and continues to eye the Swamp Thing warily.

"Okay this is seriously wigging me out. If you're here to cause trouble, let's just get this over with.." and then he calls himself shepherd of the green and wood, which gives her pause. "Oh. Wait, sooo. You're like..Poison Ivy? Only...Not so pretty?" she laughs a bit nervously at her ill-placed joke, then realizes she might have pushed some buttons there if this guy lacks a sense of humour and/or has anger issues.

"I mean, not that you're not pretty in your own way..For a giant talking moss covered tree man..Thing.." oh crap, maybe she should just stop talking already!

Swamp Thing has posed:
    If there is recognition at the names she is throwing out, it doesn't register on his face. Would a face like his show emotion? A face made of...plant...stuff? What is it made out of, anyway? parts of him look almost like skin, or an approximation of skin. There are 'toes' on his feet, and his fingers behave like a human's fingers might. Those fingers were currently tossing the massive branch in his right hand aside, letting it hurtle through the air before it rolled along some dirt and grass in the darkness, before he turned and once more regarded the Slayer.

    "Man...Thing. That is the other one."

    The other who?

    "I do not...know this Ivy. But there are others. And have been...others. Others tasked with ensuring the Green survives those who take from it. The ones who take for the sake of survival...and the ones who take out of fear, from not having. I am no enemy of man, and no enemy of yours. But be warned."

    As he speaks, he suddenly ripped his arm downward, ripping it through the dirt and the mud...and pulling out a crawling, desperate thing attempting to flee. It looks like a cross between a woodchuck, a hairless mole...and a vampire, or a demon. It is almost child sized, save for its oversized head and large fangs, and its snarling growling bites in the air aimed for the Slayer, or for the creature holding it. The creature, the big green man does not seem intimidated, and merely starts to hold it tighter around the midsection. As he does this, branches start to grow from the back of his hand. And from the sudden pained thrashing, one gets the impression that the same thing was happening to the creature's insides.

    "I am no enemy of humanity, but nor am I its friend. I am here only for the Green, the thing Man and Beast and even minions of the Rot like this all need. The course you are on ensures the destruction of every living and nonliving thing in existence. And if I must sacrifice Some, for the benefit of All? Then...I shall act accordingly."

Buffy Summers has posed:
Buffy Summers laughs and shakes her head, "Don't worry about it. Okaay.." she continues to circle him. "Soo you're obviously an intelligent..Being. You call your self a shepherd? Like, protector of plants or something? cuz normally a demon would just kill plants and rip up trees, not try to protect it." she arches a brow at the 'others' part. "Oh, really? There are more of you? Where are you from? What are you, an animated tree man? Mutant? Never seen one of you before.."

And then he pulls out the little demonic mole man thingy, and Buffy gasps, taking a step back. "What the heck is that?! Baby vamp?" she pauses, wondering what he's gonna do with it.

Swamp Thing has posed:
    "I do not know...what this little one is. I know it has been living...off the life of these woods. Leeching from others to sustain itself."

    As he speaks, what looks to be yellow blood starts to trickle down from between the swamp creature's green fingers, spilling out along the ground even as the thing started screaming, louder and louder. Until a moment later, the ugly little gremlin gave a gasp as it turned from flesh and blood, into dust that blew away in the howling wind. Now it was easy to see, that the swamp creature's hand had become a crisscrossing maze of sharpeled wooden branches and sticks, and clearly, one had hit something vital along the heart. The creature looked down at his hand then glanced over his shoulder where the specks of dust couldn't even be seen anymore.

    "It was not born...of this planet. Like the...Super Man, or the ones in capes...from beyond the stars. The ones who treat this...as home, had better take on the responsibility...of caring for it as their home. Such as you pretect the Red from the Black, I protect the Green from all else. I am no man...man who crawls in the spring, stands in the summer, sits in the fall and sleeps in the winter. I am...a thing, born of the swamp. It is...complicated as convoluted tales tend to be."

Buffy Summers has posed:
Buffy Summers arches a brow. "Oh, I see.." she bites her lip, finding it rather odd to talk to a giant plant man. But heck, she's seen weirder, and worser. At least this guy has manners. Of sorts. "Uh. So like, what do uh..Plant men eat?" hopefully it's not like, humans, or anything!

And then he goes and does THAT to the poor little gremlin thing. Oh wait, that gremlin's probably a demon and he probably just did the world a favor. In a very violent and gruesome display of his power. "Oh! Was that thing that was hurting the tree? Some kinda..Anti plant demon? Huh.." nice to know his anger is turned towards the gremlin and not herself.

"Born of the swamp? How did that even happen?" she laughs, "Heck, I suppose I should continue my patrol, but this is pretty interesting. I mean, I've never seen a..Being like you before.."

Swamp Thing has posed:
    The once-man looks down at the blonde, not speaking at first, not answering the myriad of small, and very valid questions going through her mind. Beneath his feet, seeds are planted and in two weeks time, flowers will be blooming all across thie park, vibrantly. From the creature's right hand, where that little imp-beast was slain, he extends the fingers so that dark red and bright pink petals could start to emerge, pushing through the skin of the palm like a ghoul tearing through its own grave, or a parasite emerging from the carcass of its fallen host. What emerged, over the next minute and a half, was a flower, something bright and large, something fragrant. It grew and grew, tall and proud on a thin stalk, until it snapped at the base. This flower was handed to the Slayer, before the creature turned and spoke once more before making his journey into the dark shadows of the night.

    "I shall make my home...near here. Something horrible is beneath our feet. Something is changing the world. And not for...the better. Slayer, our jobs shall become difficult. Very...soon."

    And then he was gone.