Wesley Wyndam Pryce (wes_the_watcher) wrote in vivavampvegas, @ 2010-07-01 22:41:00 |
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Current location: | Avarice II |
Current mood: | happy |
Entry tags: | narcissa mareau, wesley wyndam pryce |
Happy Wes is Good Wes
Who: Wes and Narcissa
Where: Avarice II
When: July 1st, Nighttime
"Bollocks...." Narcissa mumbled as she tried to hide a small burp, lounging in a cushy seat in Avarice 2, looking more like she should be performing than anything, in red vinyl shorts, black fishnet stockings, black Doc Martens, a ridiculously tight Misfits shirt, and a spiked choker collar, lips decked out in blood red lipstick and her usual silver lip ring. "Bloody bottle's almost empty... Wes, be a dear and get me another?"
And Wes looked like he would, as always, rather be anywhere than in a metal club. Really, how did he end up in places like this? Oh, that's right, he was in love with a woman who loved them. Well, she loved them platonically, anyway. "Sure thing," he said, standing up and, a few moments later, returned with two bottles, one for her and him.
"Poor thing, you probably gotta get good and pissed just to tolerate this place." She felt bad, actually. Well... almost. She grinned at him, that wicked shine to her eyes that she always had when up to no good. "You really need to loosen up, Wesley..."
"And I suppose you have a way to make me do that, right?" For all this talk of loosening up, he was actually blisteringly stupidly happy right now. He had his Narcissa back. Gwen was also back to her old self again, and all happy with her new girlfriend (he just hoped for no footage this time). He was honestly about as loose as he was able to get.
"So... things SEEM fairly the same here..." She continued, tilting the bottle to her lips to take a long chug. "Other than your girl not being married anymore here, and her ex bein' a bloody slayer... and you not being married... and Watchers being actual WATCHERS again, and... you know what? Forget I said that. EVERY sodding thing is different." She snorted with a laugh.
He laughed as well. "I can't even picture being with anyone else right now, much less married to them." He may have proposed to Liz at some point, but he certainly wouldn't have been involved with anyone else if he'd had to OPTION of Cissa. "You must be from a very strange place."
"You have NO idea, Wesley. None." She said simply. "So... you honestly weren't seeing anyone right now?" She asked, as if completely unable to fathom the idea. She'd always had it bad for the slightly nerdy watcher... she just wasn't quite sure WHY.
"Well, I was, until a short time ago," he said to her. "It was a mutual break up, though, so nothing bad came of it, we just weren't right for each other." And he had kind of always wanted to have her back with him where he thought she belonged, anyway.
"And the 'me' from this place became vampire noms, hm? Lovely. M'best mate where I'm from was a vamp. Irony, I guess, hm?" She snickered, licking her lips once with that pierced tongue.
He made a face when she said that. "And I'm the one that found you," he admitted. Such a horrid memory, with the 'engagement' bracelet set with her and everything. "You were friends with a vampire? Who?"
"She was just one of those vamps trying to be a better person and all. Not important." Also? The mun was trying not to bring an old game she wasn't even IN into this. So shush. "What's important is that I'm here now, right? And at least in a place that plays good music, instead of the rubbish I got stuck listening to there."
He couldn't help but laugh at that. He remembered the music that the Bronze used to play, and couldn't imagine it being too much different in an alternate timeline. "You're right, that is what's important."
"Bloody HELL the music in that horrid little town was awful." She looked at him with a cutely bitchy glare that said 'don't you DARE laugh at how important my music is to me', "So... any chance of getting me a Slayer here? I see there's a hell of a lot more than one here..."
"Well, we keep finding more every day, so I'm sure that we'll turn up one for you soon enough," he said to her. He was certain that one wold turn up here shortly for her. "Who did you have before, anyway? Well, potential, obviously."
"Bird by the name of Buffy Summers. Sweet enough thing, but honestly, as useful as a fork with a bowl of soup." And that? Was Cissa being NICE.
He laughed. "Apparently Buffy has changed a lot in different time lines," he said with another chuckle. "Well, she wasn't that good here at first, either. Now her Watcher is Ashton Kowalski, and he apparently was able to make something of her, because now she has gotten very good." Good enough to live through an encounter with a horseman of the apocalypse, even.
"Kowalski. Really." She said with an arched brow. Well. Things really WERE different here. "Yes, though. I'm positively itching to get back to work. There's got to be.. if nothing else, some sodding problem child nobody else wants that could use a watcher..."
Kowalski, one of the most problematic Watchers ever," Wesley muttered under his breath. But anyways..."Like I said, the world is full of girls with Slayer powers now. I'm sure that we'll find someone for you. Maybe even a normal one with no problems at all." Not likely, though.
"Not with my karma, not bloody likely." She snorted, throwing her head back with a snicker. "So how IS your slayer? You've barely said two words about her, which is highly unlike you."
"Because I'm so enamored with having you again I momentarily forgot about her?" he suggested playfully. "That would actually be because, for the first time in almost a year, I'm not worried that she's going to be the first Slayer to destroy her liver with alcohol or find a way to catch an STD through her very strong immune system." OK, apparently he didn't feel like pulling any punches. "She's happy, and I'm utterly relieved by that fact, partially because it reigns in her self destructive tendencies."
"Never took her to be the self-destructive type. Always seemed so bloody confident. Almost cocky." Truthfully, she'd always seen Gwen as being quite similar to herself.
"Well, she *did* sort of have the rug snatched out from under her when Skylar...did what she did." Gwen may have forgiven, but it was likely that Wes never properly would.
"Sounds like that got ugly. No offense... but thank god I missed it. Otherwise I probably woulda bloody well hit somebody." Best part there was... she wasn't joking. She probably WOULD have hit one of them, for better or worse.
"As entertaining as that might have been to watch, I don't think that it would have done a fat lot of good," Wesley admitted. "But that seems to be finally fixed, so why dwell on it?"
"True enough. Plus, likely either of them could have beaten the hell out of me." She winked, laughing then. "And while I might like it a little rough... that's not quite what I meant."
That made him laugh. "Plus, if Skylar had been the one to hit you, I would have shot her, Bale family and Gwen be damned." OK, that part was serious, but luckily they wouldn't have to know, huh?
"Damn, check YOU out, getting all cutely protective. It's kind of a turn-on." She threw her head back and laughed loudly. "And by kind of.. I mean VERY MUCH."
He smiled at her. "I can't help it," he said to her. "I lost you once, and I don't want it to happen again." So much so that, as soon as he felt that it wouldn't be a 'too soon' thing, he was going to propose to her, with an all new ring. However, right now was probably too soon, wasn't it?
"Well... if I didn't feel the same, I don't think I'd have left my entire sodding world behind, to come to a place where, for all I knew, you all were evil zombies or something." Strange? Yes... but she DID have a point. "I just knew I wanted a chance to finally be with you."
"Well, then consider your chance well worth it," Wesley said to her. "Because here it's going to happen come hell or high water." He smiled at her. "I'm also pretty sure that there are no zombies here. At least, not normally."
"Oh. Well thank God for that. Well, for both things, actually. Although..." she had to laugh there, "Zombie!Wes would be mildly hilarious..."
"I think I would have made a very bad zombie," Wesley said with a slight face. "My brain is about all I have going for me." He smiled. "Well, that and good taste in women."
"Exactly. And you wouldn't even have me, because all you'd want to do is eat my brain." She pouted there, which looked hilarious, given the gothy makeup and lip-ring. "And that would be a VERY light meal."
He laughed again. "You don't give yourself enough credit," he told her. "I think you would make a delightful meal, although actual zombies don't eat brains or people for that matter, as much as they just like to cause general mayhem...I'm lecturing again, aren't I?"
"Yeah. I think I prefer my zombies to be Romero-like, dear." She smirked, tossing an ice cube at him playfully.
He easily dodged the ice cube. "Why do I know that name?" He then made a face. "Damn you Gwen!" Of course she had made him at least once watch a Romero marathon.
She snorted in a rather unladylike fashion there, before giving a mock glare. "And what is wrong with the fabulous films of George A. Romero, Wesley?" The funny part was that to anyone who DIDN'T know her as well as Wesley, this WOULD look threatening!
"Just that Gwen made me sit through an entire marathon of those movies, and 'Day of the Dead' nearly made me want to pull my own eyeballs out." OK, that's partially the mun's bitch, too, but whatever. "The other two aren't that bad, though."
"They're coming to get you, Wesley..." she said with an oogly-boogly voice as she waggled her fingers at him with a laugh. "God I love those stupid bloody movies."
He couldn't help but laugh at that, though. "I suppose I can't get past how grossly inaccurate they are," he admitted. "Guess it's the scholar in me."
"I am never watching The Lost Boys with you." She stated, as if gospel fact. "You'll ruin the sodding film for me, and if you sully Jason Patric for me, I will never forgive you."
"Then we shall not be able to enjoy 'The Lost Boys' together," he said to her with a mockingly sad smile. "Besides, Gwen already subjected me to it."
"I knew I loved that gal. Seriously." Narcissa grinned wickedly and gave an innocent little shrug. "It's called a guilty pleasure, Wes. I'm sure you have some stupid movies you enjoy, too."
"Movies, no," he told her. He actually didn't have much time or patience for movies. He usually resorted to yelling at them for their terrible lapses in logic. "I do like Agatha Christie novels, though."
"Agatha Chr..." She cut herself off, just staring at him. "How the bloody HELL am I so attracted to you?" She asked incredulously, blinking at him like he had three heads.
He just laughed. "Because sometimes you just fall in love with someone, no matter what the differences," he pointed out. "Not all of us can be punk rock Watchers, you know."
"Well true, Wesley, but dear lord... live in this century." She snarked, that wicked grin forming again. She really DID love giving him a hard time.
"Reading is a perfectly legit way to spend your time in this century, or any century," Wes pointed out to her.
"Reading, yes. But have you even READ anything that's been written in your lifetime, dear?" She snickered, raising an eyebrow defiantly.
"Anything worth reading was already written a hundred years ago," he teased her. "Why, do you have any recommendations?"
"Read some Stephen King! Or Clive Barker! Or even some JK bloody Rowling for god's sake!" She laughed, practically flailing in frustration.
"OK, I refuse to read Harry bloody Potter books. I'm an adult," he told her. "And those are children's books. And why should I read horror books? My life is more chaotic with that stuff than they can come up with."
"My god." She laughed, shaking her head. "How *do* we get along so well, Wesley?" She knew the answer, of course: while they could infuriate each other at times... they had a mutual attraction that nothing could seemingly kill.
He shrugged. "At least it works, though. We don't actually piss each other off, which is a good thing." It was a very good thing, actually. They got along amazingly well for two people with little in common.
"Good to see that despite all the changes... WE don't seem to get along much differently." She smirked, kicking her feet up on the table. Because clearly she was a LADY.
"Nope, I'd say that things are exactly the same, actually," he admitted to her. "None too shocking at all, really."