(Untitled)

[clyded]

[ snapping his fingers; producing small flames. ]

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[demonologist]

[Wesley is seated in a corner, by the fake fireplace, drinking more whiskey. It seems fortuitous that the bar is constantly restocked. What he's doing is the equivalent of silent and bitter brooding. He's trying to ignore the presence in the room with him. Mostly because Claire's identity is still being held hostage by the man.]

[clyded]

[ clyde is learning some things. one: magic is fun and not as trite and useless as it sounds. two: magic is frustrating, what with its focus on experience and spiritual balance; it's not quite fooled by a quickly uploaded skill imprint. but he's certainly mastered a couple of tricks effortlessly, which he's taking a moment to celebrate, having tracked down some cuban cigars. he pulls the one he's brought with him out of his breast pocket, and lights it with the flame at the end of his thumb.

oh, the applications some visionary thinking is going to take this to. ]

[demonologist]

[Wesley glances over once when Clyde lights up a cigar. It irritates him of course, and even more so to see that he's using magic to achieve it.]

Given yourself some new parlour tricks, I see.

[clyded]

Don't be cheap.

[ he lets out a puff of smoke and collects it in his hand in an intangible sphere. ]

[demonologist]

Next, you'll cure world hunger.

[Wesley retorts caustically, before taking a healthy swallow of his drink.]

[clyded]

In a way.

[ he releases the smoke and it disperses in coiling wisps. ]

[demonologist]

Oh, I'm sure you're quite the philanthropist.

[clyded]

I prefer to think of it as having an active attitude toward human evolution.

[demonologist]

[He reluctantly gets up out of his chair and moves towards the bar to pour himself another glass of what he's drinking.]

For the select few who are rich or powerful enough to benefit from your efforts.

[clyded]

Rich, powerful, sober. All excellent qualifiers.

[ inhales from the cigar with a smirk. ]

Your girlfriend's got good lungs. Does she swim?

[demonologist]

[That just makes Wesley give him a baleful stare. And he tops up his glass before answering.]

Yes, she did. But what do you care. As soon as you tire of her, you'll just move on. Find some other body to occupy. That's it, isn't it? You've found the holy grail. Achieved a kind of immortality.

[clyded]

If you want to be that biblical about it.

[demonologist]

You're wearing my girlfriend like a suit. How should I 'be' about it.

[clyded]

Come now. There are things I would do to this body I would never inflict on a suit this nice.

[demonologist]

[He tenses at Clyde's chilling offhand comments and forces himself to drink again before he's tempted to attack him, Claire's body or not.]

Why do you stay in her when there are other choices. Surely you'd rather be in a male body.

[clyded]

[ smiles at that. ]

Now that's not very noble. Whose life would you rather I overtake? Who should die for her?