Guilt post.
Angel can sense the weirdness in the Inn. It's a vampire thing.
And the weirdness seems to be all around him, but concentrated in certain people.
He associates the weird with demons, dangers from the Hellmouth so he's more than a little concerned. Concerned enough to act, especially since this is Buffy's place and well... yeah, he should protect it.
Warren Worthington has his shirt off as he usually does in the Inn, because it's more comfortable for his large, wings than trying to strap them up in a shirt. And the narration has, also, thrown a harp in his hands. He's not happy about it, but can't seem to get rid of it... or the urge to play it.
Edna Turnblad is suppressing the urge she has to dance. The last time she danced was when she was much younger and much thinner and much more light on her feet.
It would just be embarrassing right now, but there's a catchy rhythm in her head that she just can't get rid of so her feet is set to tapping, but she's started to iron out a load of clothes she brought with her through to distract her from the rhythm.
Lastly, Harry Potter is here... blissfully immune to the music for now. He's got to get back to his own weirdness and dramas after all. The Inn's would just bother him more than it should. He's drinking tea and totally bother-able. He'll be heading back to his own world later tonight to face Umbridge, a Hogwarts without Dumbledore, and the impending doom that Voldemort's shrouded over everything.
And the weirdness seems to be all around him, but concentrated in certain people.
He associates the weird with demons, dangers from the Hellmouth so he's more than a little concerned. Concerned enough to act, especially since this is Buffy's place and well... yeah, he should protect it.
Warren Worthington has his shirt off as he usually does in the Inn, because it's more comfortable for his large, wings than trying to strap them up in a shirt. And the narration has, also, thrown a harp in his hands. He's not happy about it, but can't seem to get rid of it... or the urge to play it.
Edna Turnblad is suppressing the urge she has to dance. The last time she danced was when she was much younger and much thinner and much more light on her feet.
It would just be embarrassing right now, but there's a catchy rhythm in her head that she just can't get rid of so her feet is set to tapping, but she's started to iron out a load of clothes she brought with her through to distract her from the rhythm.
Lastly, Harry Potter is here... blissfully immune to the music for now. He's got to get back to his own weirdness and dramas after all. The Inn's would just bother him more than it should. He's drinking tea and totally bother-able. He'll be heading back to his own world later tonight to face Umbridge, a Hogwarts without Dumbledore, and the impending doom that Voldemort's shrouded over everything.