justsookie | it reminds me of walking through the avenues

Although relatively petite and blonde, Sookie Stackhouse was far from helpless in defending herself; between having a sharp tongue, skill in wielding heavy chains, and knowing her way around a gun, most people in Bon Temps didn't dare cross her path when she was in one of her moods, mind-reading abilities notwithstanding. But time on the island without a shotgun propped against her wall and with the ever-present reminder of the fact that no matter how many times she prayed for her grandmother's arrival, Rene's was just as likely, had driven Sookie to the point where she needed to find a more disciplined way to go about it. Something which didn't require a quick sprint on over to the weapon.

Which was why, in addition to the secret meetings she'd planned with one Alice Cullen, Sookie also found herself hovering around the twice a week martial arts classes at the Island School. The fact that Buffy Summers was the instructor was just the icing on the cake, Sookie's face barely containing a wide grin as she bit down on her lower lip, standing outside the classroom about fifteen minutes before the scheduled start of class. And if there was one thing that Sookie could say, it was that Buffy was a million times prettier up close and personal.

(Even if a bit shorter than Sookie always imagined.)

Steeling her nerves, Sookie knocked on the propped door and peeked inside. "Um, hi? You're Buffy Summers, right? I was wonderin' if it'd be possible to join this class at all."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

There was a desire to agree right off the bat — because, really, when Buffy Summers said something, one just had to side with her out of the sheer principle of the matter — but Sookie couldn't really empathize. Back home, recognition was always several parts feedback; if the other person had any sort of recollection about Sookie, she could pick up on it through the air, pull a name out like a card from up her sleeve. And on the island, there were so few people Sookie had met at all that she clung to each like they were the last, a process tiring but ultimately necessary for the calm of her heart. As a compromise, she nodded, the fact that sympathy had been mixed in instead of empathy going unsaid.

Not that it was at all a damper on the moment. Everything else notwithstanding, Sookie was really and truly meeting the greatest previously-fictional person she'd ever known, and could hardly keep from jumping everywhere out of excitement. So much of what she did or said, ever since the vampires came out of the coffin, was in some way influenced by the way Buffy had dealt in her life — although Sookie was indeed glad for the fact that vampires in her world didn't automatically lose their souls in the process. At least, not entirely. Her smile slowly widened, although it was shaky all the same, and Sookie found herself holding out a hand for the other woman before she could even think the action through.

"Oh, we haven't met, no — I mean, I've heard about you, knew that you were a great teacher so I thought about givin' this whole thing a shot," Sookie remarked honestly, eyes wide. "But we haven't met directly. I'm Sookie Stackhouse, Buffy, it's a real honor to meet you."

"People say I'm a great teacher?" No, not the most important morsel or information to glean from Sookie's words, but Buffy couldn't help herself. Confident as she (occasionally) was in her own skill and knowledge on the subject, she had never been the best of students, and taking on the role of teacher had terrified her at first. It still did at times, though she was thankful that the island school was forgiving of her resistance to regular conventions. It was her class, and she could do things her way. The Watcher's Council could stand to take a note or ten.

If they hadn't all blown up, that is.

With a sheepish smile, Buffy shook Sookie's hand. "Sorry, hi. I'm glad we haven't met. Wait, that sounds wrong. I mean that I'm glad we haven't met before, as in this is our first time meeting so I didn't embarrass myself by forgetting your name. Fortunately, I found a much more efficient method of supreme self-embarrassment: opening my mouth."

The fact that Buffy seemed to be tripping over her thoughts right in front of Sookie had the waitress reeling mentally — it was surreal, more than anything else, to know that even Buffy had her flaws and that they weren't just shown for entertainment, that Buffy Summers was a human who could be humbled just as well as the rest of them by issues as small as stuttering or rambling. One often heard stories about how Sarah Michelle Gellar hardly let herself go and how she thought extremely highly of herself, rumors that Sookie was loath to believe, but now it didn't even matter. This woman in front of her wasn't a celebrity or a superstar, and although destiny had singled her out to be someone more, Sookie knew that Buffy was just as human as the rest of them.

If a little bit tougher than most.

"You're a great teacher," Sookie affirmed readily, not wanting to get into the specifics of what she knew — that Buffy had trained a group of Potentials and had been, in her opinion, far better than Faith at it. "And oh gosh, don't worry about it, I've got the exact same problem. It's like when I'm nervous, my mouth keeps on goin' on and on and it often ends up makin' things worse when I say things before I think them through, embarrassin' myself and makin' me want to check my words even more, and..." She gave a smile that faded into a slight wince. "Maybe you know just the feelin'. It's like a row of dominoes."

"I never really cared for dominoes," Buffy offered, tilting her head down with a soft smile. She was intimately familiar with the feeling, especially for extreme lack of trying. Though she felt for Sookie, it was nice to have something in common with her already; if anything, Buffy could tell she'd be fun to have around.

"So, do you have any experience?" Buffy asked, momentarily slipping into a teacher-mode she never knew she had before. "It's not required, but I'd probably have to teach you the basics and such. You know, everything we've covered so far, just so that you don't fall behind. It's not much, I promise. You'll probably catch on right away."

Thoughts quickly darted back to Sookie's few skirmishes, the one which stood out most being her fight with the Rattrays, obviously nothing even near the level of Buffy's spars. She shrugged sheepishly, before shaking her head with an embarrassed sigh— it was strange, given how she'd never really been ashamed of keeping out of fights before, but what Sookie wanted least was to be taken as some type of blonde damsel in distress.

"No, not really, not with martial arts," Sookie shook her head, regretting having made the decision to wear a dress to inquiry. "I mean, my brother used to play football and he got in a few fights, enough that he taught me some things about defendin' myself— I'm really good with chains— but I've never had anythin' really formal. Usually, though, I'm a fast learner when it comes to my hands?"

"Chains," repeated Buffy, with an automatic raise of her brow. Never one to underestimate any opponent — particularly one so similar, if only in appearance, to her own self — Buffy knew that it was those least likely to kick ass that one has to watch out for. She had been mistaken for harmless herself often enough to know, and if that wasn't enough, her experience battling Glory certainly filled the gap.

But she had to admit to being curious (maybe even morbidly so) as to where the chains came in.

Sookie hadn't expected that Buffy would have wanted any sort of elaboration on the matter. If anything, chains seemed so commonplace compared to most of the weapons Buffy used, mundane, unskilled and unsophisticated. But when given that arch of a brow, Sookie couldn't exactly leave things to Buffy's imagination— what if her hero thought the worst of her based on that statement? Perhaps even more mortifying, what if Buffy assumed a very different sort of use of the chains entirely? Sookie's lips parted and hovered before she pressed on ahead, trying to explain the merits of throwing down with chains.

"It's just one of those things that you can carry around without bringin' a lot of suspicion to yourself, but it's also real good at snatchin' people, so long as your throw's strong enough. Chains wrap around people, and if they're heavy, it takes a lot to undo them. But it also usually takes a while before they do any lastin' damage, so I always thought it a win-win situation," Sookie shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. "There was once this guy who was really kind of hankerin' to give me one— he nearly killed me, later— but I threw a chain around his neck and that kept him preoccupied for a good while. Where I'm from, it's just... kinda dangerous."

it reminds me of walking through the avenues

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject