001 // intro || good good girl with a troubled mind

[pixiesinmyhead]

[Wandering the hallways and ducking away from windows, Drusilla seems more curious about than bothered by her arrival.]

A pretty sort of fairy tale for pretty little princesses and princes, innit...

[It's not because she understands what's going on, she very much doesn't.  After another moment of contemplation, her expression turns to a full-blown

Comments

[demonologist]

[Wesley had been coming down from Lilah's room when he spies someone acting oddly, shying away from the windows. Not able to see her face yet, he does notice that she's pulling at her own garments and hair as if she's in distress.]

Excuse me, miss. Are you all right?

[pixiesinmyhead]

Someone's made their dreams real, and we're all brought in...

[Dru has a feeling about this one, and it's sort of making her stare as she places it.]

[demonologist]

[A new arrival then. There's something about the woman which tugs at his memory, even though he's fairly certain he's never met her before.]

You're in a place called Paradisa. I'm afraid it's quite real.

[Her face, her manner...it's as if he should know her.]

[pixiesinmyhead]

[And Drusilla has a sense of reverse-deja vu, almost, a knowing that she might be aware of him somewhere else, not here, not home, but somewhere.]

Paradisa. [She tries the word, finding she doesn't really like how it tastes.] We're the toys. Invisible puppet strings.

[demonologist]

With the Castle itself as puppet master if you believe some people.

[He steps closer to her, cocking his head to the side quizzically as he regards her.]

Do I know you? My name is Wesley Wyndam-Pryce.

[pixiesinmyhead]

[She doesn't know why she feels wary around him, so he'll get a neat little curtsy. Proper manners, always. Except when killing or torturing or... well, there were lots of exceptions, probably.]

I'm Drusilla.

[And in her typical vague way, she adds:]

Walked the same footsteps, different times.

[demonologist]

[As soon as he hears her name, his expression hardens and he slips one hand into his jacket pocket preparing to defend himself if he has to.]

Drusilla. I know that name. I know what you are. You'd best not be attacking anyone or you'll have to face the consequences.

[pixiesinmyhead]

[Well, then. That does take a bit of the fun out.]

Lots of talk, nasty word.

[demonologist]

Consequences?

[He eyes her carefully, poised to retaliate if she makes a move on him.]

Yes, it is rather a nasty word, isn't it? None of us are exempt from them. Not even you.

If you need blood, you can wish for it. Start feeding on us against our will, and I will put you down. Understood?

[pixiesinmyhead]

Isn't your job to act them out.

[Pouting forever will now commence.]

I do. Then, more to herself: No fun at all.

[demonologist]

[He gives a short sharp bitter laugh.]

Actually, it is.

[Then, because he has to know...]

Have you spoken to Spike? To Angel? They're here.

[If anyone can keep a leash on her, it's them.]

[pixiesinmyhead]

[She nods. She doesn't entirely like his tone, but he isn't worth fussing with right now.]

I have. Singing the wrong songs, they are.

[demonologist]

[Acerbically.]

That's because they have souls now. You should try it sometime.

[pixiesinmyhead]

Turns things all wrong, makes them fuzzy. Not a game to play.

[demonologist]

They're better people now.

[He believes that to a certain extent. But he also remembers the hatred in Angel's eyes, the absolute intent to murder him while he was defenseless. It's not something he will easily forget.]

[pixiesinmyhead]

[Dru, on the other hand, wants desperately not to believe it. She'd rather think they're putting it on, even when she knows it's not so.]

'Better.'