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Rupert "The Ripper" Giles

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7 Books | Read a book

[01 Nov 2004|09:57pm]
[ mood | wtf, over ]

Hello and welcome again to Giles' Peeks where I select two modern films at random and give my perspective review on them. I'm Rupert Giles and today's films are The Day After Tomorrow and Jeepers Creepers 2.

The Day After TomorrowCollapse )

Jeepers Creepers 2Collapse )

1 Book | Read a book

[30 Oct 2004|12:20pm]
I dunno if Jess ever really told anybody what she's dealing with. If not, basically it goes a little something like this.

She's got hypothyroidism. Basically what this means is her thyroid is shutting down. It's not releasing the chemicals needed to sustain what her body needs. It makes her extremely tired, gives her daily migraines, bloating cramps, weight gain, severe depression, mood swings like nobody's business, basically a woman's hell. Sadly this also makes her very sick a lot and it's also very fatal. Consciousness isn't her friend because this disorder could put her in a coma or worse and it sucks every ounce of energy she has. We've been doing all we can so far and she has her good days and her bad days though there's no solid signs of improvement yet.

Hence we send out an apology to those we've made plans with regarding today, specifically phone calls n' such. It's one of those 'bad days' and she's having a really hard time getting out of bed and is in a deal of pain from her headache so we'll have to try again another time.

But anyway. There's basically what it is. If you have any questions or anything feel free to ask me or you can research hypothyroid on webmd.com and see for yourself what she's dealing with.

Again, sorry everyone, and we'll talk to you soon. Promise.

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now_ish [03 Aug 2004|08:44pm]
The stairs offered my suddenly wandering mind little comfort while descending them to the lobby, still a bit woozy from my recent date with the bottle of scotch. My senses, at least, had returned to me and there was but one thing my dry mouth was craving at the moment.

Ice cold coca-cola. The best thing for hangovers since, well, another round of drinks.

I found the lobby mysteriously empty. No voices, no movements, nobody crashing through the windows with the intent on slaughtering everyone which resided here.. for the first time in a long time the place was peaceful.

Oh well.. off to the study. I knew there was a little icebox in there which hid the sodas from the potentials. Put them in a place they deem 'boring' and they'll never find it. Yes, I suppose I could be labelled a genius.

Gwen's actions recently haunted my mind. What was she all about? Coming on to me like a lioness in heat and roughly showing it the same. If she had a tail she'd probably smack me in the face with it. Regardless I knew what was best.. what was safest for her and the group.

And me.

I flipped the lights on and illuminated the soft chairs and literature brought from Sunnydale -- the tomes and spellbooks used in hours upon hours of research -- and my mind wandered back to earlier days. Incredibly things seemed easier back then compared to the mission we were up against now. I withdrew a can of coke from the icebox and took pleasure in listening to the hiss when I popped it open. I selected a book from the shelf, "Toben's Spirit Guide", and settled into an armchair for a few relaxing moments of peace and quiet. And Mozart. The stereo's remote was captured and the power button pressed.

Ah yes. This.. is living.

(( open to potentials and/or Gwen ))

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now_ish [23 Jul 2004|03:50pm]
"Time to feed the animals," I sighed, saying to myself while carrying my scotch over toward the ice box. I opened it up and withdrew two pints of pig's blood from the shelves and looked at the bottles in which they were contained. After taking another swig from my drink I half staggered over toward the microwave. By now I'd already completed four and was working on my fifth.

Once the microwave was done heating the blood up I poured it into separate glasses, then put them and my self claimed bottle of scotch on a tray, then carried my own drink toward the cellar where our guests were being kept.

It took a little maneuvering to manage my way down the steps without falling over myself but I made it. Cool eyes instantly fell upon the cage inside resided Drusilla and Spike who seemed to still be in rest. At least one of them was awake to question.

Without a word I settled the bottle of scotch next to the chair in the room along with my glass and then proceeded to the bars of the cage, holding the tray outward with one of the crimson drinks away from me.

"I trust our accommodations are suitable for your purpose," I said as Drusilla accepted the glass. "Now let's.. get down to business, shall we?" I took a seat on the chair and lifted my glass to my lips for a drink.

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now_ish [19 Jul 2004|10:12pm]
I stepped back in the lobby fidgeting with the cellphone that was ringing in my hands, looking at it with dire confusion. I'd managed to flip the thing open but now how to I get the blasted thing to stop ringing so I can talk? I pressed a button and held it up to my ear.



"Oh buggered.. stupid technology," I complained and looked down at the thing again with frustration. Finally I decided on a green button and tried it again.

"Hello?" I asked one more time. When I heard a voice on the other end my face lightened with relief. "Ah! Yes! Hel--.. no, no, it's these blasted cellular phones. It's a wonder anybody learns how to use... what's that?" I paused in my step and looked up a bit quizzically. "When? Of course! Naturally. No, it's no problem whatsoever." A pause followed my agreement and again my face distorted to a look of concern. ".... she's what? W-what on earth does that mean? What? No, we're well equipped. I've dealt with one of those before," I chuckled.

As I witnessed Wesley walk into the room I raised my hand to wave him over before speaking into the phone again. "Kenneth? Hang on just a moment, please." I lowered the phone to redirect my attention upon the other watcher, relinquishing the volume from my voice. "Kenneth Brown. Watcher from your class, I believe. Says he has a promblemed potential he simply cannot handle and he's sent her to us. Her flight arrives in ten minutes. ... are you busy?"

I turned back to the phone for just a moment.

"Yes, uh.. just one question." I looked up again and around at those who were around me before lowering my voice once more so only Wesley and he with whom I spoke could hear me. "How clumsy is 'clumsy', Kenneth?" My eyes lifted to look at the other watcher again. "...... oh god."

Read a book

now_ish [13 Jul 2004|06:17pm]
"I understand, sir... these are very difficult times we find ourselves in," Tamara mentioned before not a moment later Gwen barged into the lobby carrying the young brunette girl, announcing, "Guys! Hey, someone, some help here!"

"If you only knew how right you were," I responded to Tamara mindlessly, looking past her toward Gwen rushing into the lobby. I was quick to retrieve my glasses from the desk and throw them on my face while I stood from the chair I was in to approach the scene although, after a brief thought, neglected to join in. I could do little more than look on with concern for the girl while she was cared for by the others. Gwen's explaination rang in my ears and answered the various questions of importance that'd already formed in my head.

Except the one about Spike.

My vision resided on Buffy to whom I silently looked on to take charge of and make sense of the chaos that'd suddenly exploded before us all. I knew that if everyone was to look to her then she was going to have to make them hear her. She seemed to be doing a decent job of that. At least she was getting the information she was demanding. That, at the very least, was a start.

The opening doors drew my attention upon the departing Ema followed by the others. Nobody said where they were going but it didn't take a graduate from Harvard to detect what their intentions were.

"Michael," I toned, my voice softly spoken and almost dreamlike when I made my request, my eyes transfixed on the door. This was about to get a whole lot worse. "Find Elizabeth." I finally turned my worried eyes upon the young man near the couch. "Get her here. Quickly."

I'll have to speak to Buffy the moment I get an opportune opening. For now her primary concern is her sister.. as it should be.

My eyes then slowly followed a path toward where I stored my 'good' weapons, as Xander used to refer to them as..

(( open to... aw anybody can play with the old man ))

Read a book

now_ish [11 Jul 2004|10:34pm]
When Elizabeth departed with her companion another sigh escaped my lips and I walked around the table on which I had been leaning only moments prior, to the chair. I sat down in it and I looked at Buffy and Willow, feeling as though I should say something. I'd been spouting off sympathetic rhetoric most the night surely they were getting bored of that by now. Perhaps a little humor?

"It could be worse, I suppose," I offered, raising my brows in a lighthearted manner, "....." I blinked and my brows lowered into a confused feature. "And yet somehow.. try though I might.. I simply can't see how." Well the idea had sounded good before I opened my mouth at any rate. I was void of humorous quips! Oh well. They rarely found me funny anyway. I simply wasn't cut out for a career in comedy.

I leaned forward, settling my elbows on the table in front of me while I laced my fingers together with either hand, resting my face near my thumbs. "Frankly I don't foresee an easy way to do this," I submitted honestly. "If, in fact, Elizabeth is the new slayer we must begin training her immediatly. If she's not then we leave the true slayer unprepared to handle what will come for her. Willow, have we any way to differentiate between them?" I asked.

(( open to Buffy and Willow ))

Read a book

if_tomorrow [11 Jul 2004|10:10pm]
Fortunately the trip had only taken me a couple days. I didn't want to stay in England any longer than neccessary considering what everyone was up against in America. Soon after assisting Buffy and the others in their retreat from Sunnydale I chartered the earliest flight to London that I could purchase. I had to find whatever I could that might still remain at the libraries at the Watcher's Council.

I hadn't left empty handed.

The tomes and materials I managed to scavenge from the wreckage of my once prestegious employers might prove invaluable to what was happening but not even I knew. All I could manage to decide was that we needed more than what we had.

Now here I was, standing at the US Customs checkpoint at the Los Angeles international airport getting every last belonging I'd brought with me searched by black suited men and their dogs. My watch was continually investigated to assure I wasn't wasting more time than need be yet I was growing impatient nonetheless.

"What's this, sir?"

"Where I come from we call it a book," I answered with a bit more snootiness than neccessary but, let's be honest. How silly could this situation really become.

"Do you have your passport, sir?

"Oh for the love of pete, man, I'm a citizen," I complained. The stare I received told me that this answer wasn't good enough.. so I forcefully withdrew my passport and opened it up, pointing rapidly at the picture. "See? Look. Giles. Rupert Giles, you horrid beast. Now let me pass, I'm in a dreadful hurry."

Finally he waved me through and I quickly collected my belongings and rushed outside as fast as a man could carrying so much luggage. This was the LAX. I wasn't expecting porters to assist me without a generous handout. When the smog which Californians qualify as fresh air hit my nostrils I hailed a taxi. The only reliable thing available in this air port.

"To the Hyperion," I instructed and closed the vehicle's door before strapping my seatbelt in, "and do hurry, please. I'm afraid I haven't much time." That would most likely be due to the dark cloud that I could see slowly descending upon the city slowly .. almost as though it were tormenting us with the thought of inevitable death.

When the taxi pulled up outside the hotel I tossed some money at the driver and quickly exited the car, making sure not to forget my materials in the trunk. A bag in either hand and one under my arm I walked into the lobby and began straight toward the room where Wesley kept the rest of the research materials and other magical trinkets.

(( open to anybody present ))

Read a book

now_ish [09 Jul 2004|09:34pm]
I didn't watch Buffy retreat up the stairs to retrieve Willow. I was too busy staring at an unseen horizon in front of me, lost in the cascading thoughts which plagued my mind as a virus takes over a body until it's destroyed. Another one was lost.

I slowly turned my eyes over toward the other girls who had no idea what was happening yet. Though my gaze could be defined as thoughtful inwardly it was heartbroken. Not so long ago we'd finally awakened a human spirit in one deemed lost.. and now she truely was.

I knew I wouldn't be able to conceal this from them so it was to the board my feet guided me. I couldn't bring myself to look at the others as I took the dry erase marker into my grasp and pulled the cap off. I tried to avoid shaking when the felt tip of the black pen met the white plastic of the board and I slowly wrote in the letters..

F - A - I - T - H

.. underneath Jenny's name.

My eyes lowered to the marker that was replaced to its origin. Silence rang in my ears and I looked over at the girls again. They were all staring at me. I had nothing to say -- no quip of consolation, no words of wisdom for the bereved, nothing.

One hand in my pocket, the other removed my glasses and I turned away from the potentials, step by slow step past the stairs toward the only room where the reference material was kept. There was no choice. I had to find something. ANYTHING..

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