Erin's Test Journal (ehazcharacters) wrote in btvsal, @ 2009-11-25 01:12:00 |
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Entry tags: | place: la, ~irene turner, ~joel collins |
The Makings of a Homewrecker
Who: Lady Godiva & Introducing Joel Collins
Where: Eden
When: Tuesday, Nov. 17th (backdated)
Things were not well in the Land of Lady G. While it was entirely understandable that Kevin would be busy with his band, rumors were circling back to Irene that he was spending a lot of extra time with one Buffy Summers. One of the Slayers if word was true and Irene was a little hurt by this, but did she confront Kevin with this? Of course not, confrontation was not in the witch's personality.
Instead, the bassist decided to have a fun night out at Eden. Dressed pretty much in a black catsuit with heavily buckled boots and vambraces, Irene had her hair blow dried poker straight. She long entered the ground level club where a DJ was playing that night, her full lips painted in blood red lipstick, eye lids dusted in a little black eyeshadow and she was out on the dancefloor dancing by herself, yet dancing with anyone willing. Occasionally, she made her way back and forth between the dance floor and the bar.
New to town, and looking for some fun, Joel had on a black Gucci suit and tie ensemble... snazzy and classy, yet dark enough to fit in here. Did he really like this music? Nah. But his friends had always told him that once he got to the States, he had to hit goth clubs. Said all kinds of hot, trashy, easy chicks hung out there. Hey... nobody ever said he was classy. He'd been one of the top students at the Academy, right before it was destroyed. Luckily he'd been away on assignment when it happened. But now, here in the USA on behalf of Rupert Giles and this NEW Council... he had to find someo -er, thing to do to amuse himself, right? So he found himself here. At the bar. Watching the gorgeous blonde in the catsuit shake that thing like she owned the place.
At the song change, Irene decided to take a break and headed back to the bar for her third glass of Vodka. By this time, the witch was about to be well on her way to being drunk.
She knew the attractive blond in the suit was watching her from the bar. Why did she know that? Because despite his dark colored clothes, the suit stood out like a sore thumb in the place like this. Once she got her drink, she moved down a few barstools to one next to his. Setting her glass down and sliding onto the stool, she finally said, "You've been watching me." A smile slowly curved her ruby lips.
"True enough," he countered with a cocky little smirk, one that balanced carefully between obnoxious... and boyishly adorable. "But for you to have noticed that, you must have been watching ME as well."
For some reason, the blond thought that to be really funny. Irene snorted into laughter because...this bloke totally didn't fit into the scene here and she said so, "Have you looked at yourself? You so don't fit in here." She laughed some more, taking a long drink from her glass before setting it down again. Gorgeous blue eyes narrowed at him, "Why are you really here?"
"Honey, I fit in anywhere. I'm just that awesome." Was he kidding? Serious? Somewhere in between? His snark made him horribly hard to read. "And I'm here for the same reason a lot of you probably are. I don't really know anyone here, I'm bored, and I'm hoping to meet someone."
Sammie: Irene giggled, "Oh, well... now you've met me, love. Lady Godiva is the name. What's yours?" She asked she before the bassist and witch sipped some more vodka.
Sammie: -she
Kellie: "Lady Godiva? You gotta be shittin' me." A little smirk turned his lips lopsided, and he took his own scotch and downed a few sips. "I'm Joel. Joel Collins. Please to meet you."
"I'm not kidding." Irene said with a grin, finishing off her drink. "Lady Godiva is my stage name." Her hand woozily waved in the direction of the stage, "I play here. The bass." She laughed again.
"Ok, now THAT makes sense." He began to explain, laughing. "A stage name is totally acceptable. Now... how that girl in the weird gas mask with the turquoise hair calls herself 'Napalm' because she just thinks it makes her cool and mysterious? THAT'S just retarded."
He smirked, pointing the girl out to Lady G, over in the corner spazzing out as some form of dance.
Again, Irene seemed to think that was incredibly funny, but really? The girl just looked strange dancing like that. Like she was having a seizure, a...turquoise seizure. Yeah, the witch was totally drunk. When she got herself under control, Irene finally asked, "What do you like to do, Joel?"
"I like to drink, I like to talk to beautiful women, and I like to study. I guess right now if I had a history textbook, I'd be in utopia." He said with a bit of a flirty wink in her direction.
"Hmm..." Irene slid off the barstool and invaded Joel's personal space until she was practically straddling one of his legs, "And what do you like to study, love?"
What the hell, right? It was a goth club. She'd probably thought he meant Anne Rice. "Vampires, mostly. Demons, fun stuff like that."
This gave Irene pause and she decided to test him, "Are we talking the face morphing kind of vampires, or Anne Rice?"
Face-morphing? Oh, SCORE. Hot and knew what was going on. "Face-morphing, actually. Looks like you're smarter than I figured. Although I think my thigh is ready to propose to you by now."
Joel's answer and attitude seemed to have the opposite effect on Irene. The witch got off of Joel, muttering, "I should've fucking known." In a louder voice, the witch stated, "Piss off, Council Boy." One night. She wanted one night to talk to someone who WASN'T connected with the supernatural. Not only was this guy connected, he was more than likely a bloody WATCHER. Guess the universe decided not to give Irene a break that evening. She started pushing her way to the entrance.
"Oh come on!" He said with an exasperated groan. "I didn't even bring the stuff up! You did! I'm the same guy you thought I was when you were humpin' my bloddy leg!" He... actually had quite a point there. "Let's just forget about what I do, ok? I'm here to talk to beautiful women, not chitchat about things that go bump in the night." then he gave her that wink again, "unless those things are naked bodies."
Irene turned back to him and heaved a sigh. The witch suddenly lost interest in being at the club and then gestured to him, "Come on, let's get out of here." She started toward the entrance again.
Whoever it was that told him easy chicks hung out at goth clubs? Was getting a fucking fruit basket, man. He took her hand with a calmly excited grin, and followed her toward the door.