Some grow wiser, you just grew older...

[savesomelight]

Today is Piper's seventeenth birthday... Not that anyone would actually know that, because she hasn't really made it a point to exchange birthdates with anyone. A year ago today, she became a demon and her entire world that had consisted of quietly blending into the background and being unobtrusive went out the window. She hasn't spoken to her

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[just_add_souls]

Maka is exploring the Gauche. She's patched up, but still looking beat up, and clearly not at her ease.

She's starting to relax and enjoy the garden a little--very little, as she still preoccupied with thoughts of Soul and how to find him--when she sees Piper. When she sees Piper with wings. She stops.

A witch?

Crap.

[savesomelight]

Piper feels the sudden shift of the familiar (and, up until now, mostly static) emotional wavelengths of the garden, meaning that someone nearby just had a random emotional shift and since she's the only one here...

Well, sometimes paranoia is justified. She jerks her head up and swallows the last bite of her cupcake so hard in an attempt to get it out of her mouth so she can explain, she just kinda just winds up coughing and sputtering a little. Thankfully, not so much that she needs a Heimlich or anything, but enough to quickly brand her as a Queen of Dork and not quite a threat.

Give her a minute. She'll be okay.

[just_add_souls]

Maka flails a little, jogging over to rub Piper's back and sputter apologies. She's rather ginger about it, trying to avoid touching the wings.

"Ah--sorry--I just--you looked--" She shakes her head, feeling kind of stupid now. This girl's wavelength doesn't feel like a witch's, unless she's using Soul Protect. "Are you okay?"

[savesomelight]

Piper finishes sputtering and turns beet red, because, well, she didn't mean to scare anyone or... Anything. She nods slowly, not trusting her voice just yet and then finally manages to give her a sheepish smile, although her cheeks are still red from both embarrassment and the near-choking.

"Yeah, I'm fine!" She says, a little nervously. "Sorry. I always forget that some people... Aren't... Used to people with wings."

She must look like the Mothman or something with those things. She looks behind her and gives her wings a rather sullen glare. Stupid things.

[trivialsublime0]

Rusty Hunt is not selling drugs for once. It's nice. It's cloudy, but not cold. When 50 degrees means not cold, it has obviously been winter too long. He is in the back corner of a bar in a shitty part of town, smoking, which is nothing out of the ordinary for him.

There's a glass of whiskey on the table in front of him. Rusty can not really handle the hard drinks, but he thought he'd give it a whirl. He's a tough guy (ahem), and it's his day off after all. However, he's only managed to drink a painful sip or two of it before he gave up and let it sit.

Rusty had forgotten how much he enjoys not selling drugs.

[theshameofcain]

Bambi wanders in, looking agitated and flustered and kinda hating that she chose to walk across the whole damn city looking for Rusty. A lot of sick fucks in this part of town. Thankfully, she has angelic strength on her side, even if it's not cool enough to have her wings out and hidden by her coat.

She breathes a sigh of relief when she finds Rusty in the last bar she thinks to check- she was half-expecting that to come up negative too and just intended to hang out there and drink herself sick, but, well, apparently it's her lucky day.

Or not.

She shakes off the anxiety and agitation and forces herself into her normal cool, casual veneer and then wanders over and slides into Rusty's booth. "You're a tough man to find, Hunt," she muses casually, like this is just a little social call and there's nothing of the ordinary about it.

[trivialsublime0]

Rusty looks up when Bambi slides into the booth. He didn't even notice her until she did. It's good that his job doesn't require him to be constantly alert, because he would fail always.

Even if she says it casually, he tenses. People don't look for him for good reasons. Not usually.

"Sorry," he says with a halfhearted smirk as he takes a drag from his cigarrette and looks from her to his whiskey. Rusty can't seem to meet her eyes right now. "There ain't exactly a lotta people tryin' to find me or nothin'."

No, he's not going to ask why she was looking for him.

[theshameofcain]

Probably for the best. She could have contacted him over the journals, but then he would have asked questions and it would have made this infinitely harder.

"Count your blessings for that. I know what it's like to be on the other end." She fishes a cigarette and her lighter out of her own pocket, reminded that she desperately needs a smoke, and then gestures to the whiskey as she lights up. "You finishing that? I could use it."

She is going to avoid the actual subject for as long as humanly possible.

[cyfor]

There is a fuzz stalking you, Des. She has been stalking you for some time, taking advantage of your distraction. And now, as you leave the safety of your office, she sees her chance to strike.

"MERRY CHRISTMAS!" She launches herself at his ankle and sinks her teeth into his shoe.

[nothingsodivine]

Well, that's a +10 for adorable, but a -200 for stealth. Des snickers when she pounces and lets her gnaw on his shoe for a moment before bending down to pry her off and pick her up, giving her an affectionate scritch on the head, taking advantage of the fact that she's spark plug-less.

"How's life without a spark plug treatin' you, kitten?" He asks, once he's finished his scritching.

[cyfor]

"No logic bombs. Smacked the empty button hole against the stake and stone, but there was no signal, cap'n!"

She bats at his fingers and then demonstrates by squirming loose and aiming, head first, for the ground.

...she's special sometimes.

[nothingsodivine]

Des makes a strangled yelp and tries to grab for her before she divebombs the ground, but it's all for naught, so he's left cringing and making a few inarticulate noises of discontent before he kneels down to make sure she's okay and not suffering any brain damage or anything.

"Strictly speaking, there are better ways to test that out, fuzzball. Ways that aren't going to crack your furry, little head open. You'll drive that New Black King of yours mental if you show up with a gaping head wound."

...Des has clearly not quite grasped, well, Ragnar.

[andwhosearmy]

Casey's just getting off work about now, coming down the stairs of the Police Department without paying too much attention to anything in particular... and then something catches her attention out of the corner of her eye. But when she whips around to face it, there's... nothing there...

She groans a little, rubbing at her forehead. "Please don't tell me I'm going crazy," she mutters to herself. "I really don't have time for that."

[leosarecynical]

Gray's been watching, and while he's not close enough to hear what she's saying, he can pretty much figure it out. He recites a limerick under his breath that's filthy enough that the woman who passes by him at the same time looks at him more like he's a pervert than a crazy person.

And now there's a illusory jackalope standing in front of Casey and looking very innocent and adorable. Happy April Fool's Day, Casey.

[andwhosearmy]

Casey stops abruptly. And stares at it like she's trying to terrify it into not existing with the power of her disapproval. She bites her lip and tugs on the air currents around it, just to test and... yeah, it's an illusion, what with the air currents going right through it.

"I am going to kill him," she mutters, and glances over her shoulder, obviously searching for the one responsible. As if there's any doubt who that is. It's cute that he thinks he's funny. Really, it is.

[leosarecynical]

Smart people would be playing a nice, little game of ding-dong-ditch about now, but Gray sometimes isn't exceptionally bright... Well, that and if he runs now, Casey might make it worse for him and things will escalate and it will get messy and... No one wants that.

He shoves his hands in his pockets, checks both ways, and walks across the street, the jackalope vanishing as soon as he gets across and starts walking towards Casey.

"Admit it, Case', it wouldn't be April Fool's Day if I didn't do somethin'," he says with an innocent headtilt, as soon as he's close enough for her to hear him, but not close enough for her to rear back and sock in the mouth.

[shealone_stands]

It's been warmer out lately, which means the Slayer's been out and about more often... now that she doesn't feel the need to hide from the cold like any sane person from southern California.

She was just out for a walk in the garden - which is not nearly interesting enough for her taste, but Buffy is trying to be good and not give her guardian angel a heart attack - but noticing Piper, she immediately changes direction and starts toward her. Oh look! Friend thing!

"Piper!"

[savesomelight]

Piper looks up from her book and smiles as widely as she can without opening her mouth or stopping her chewing on the last of her cupcake. She swallows and then waves. "Buffy! Hi! How are you?"

Right. No emo here. Really. The last thing Piper wants to do is put her friends in an awkward position... Especially when that awkward position involves whether or not it's okay to use her powers. She's still not sure about that, even after her conversation with Mat.

[shealone_stands]

Buffy shrugs a little, moving over to sit next to Piper. "Being a good little ward, not giving my guardian angel panic attacks by fulfilling my sacred destiny." That translates to 'bored', if anyone was wondering. "What about you, huh? ...Nice wings, by the way. You should wear them out more often." Buffy thinks they're pretty - also cute on her, but Piper's just cute by default.

[savesomelight]

Piper's wings twitch upwards and then rest against her back again in some sort of expression of sympathy and confusion. "You have a guardian angel- OH! Mat!" She bounces a little. "I met him- he's very sweet."

She pauses, suddenly allowing the rest of that sentence to hit her, because even not knowing much about guardian angels beyond the obvious, it doesn't really seem like they'd mesh well with 'sacred destinies' of any kind. "Oh... I guess that's... Not good."

She looks back at her wings, blushing just a bit. "Thanks. I'm always afraid they'll break or something." Even though she imagines they're stronger than actual moth wings, but still. "I can't believe that a year ago I didn't even have them. That just seems... Weird somehow."