Mwa. Ha. Ha. Ha. (Edited)
The thought occurred to me when I woke up in the motel with Amy, still feeling hungover from the unbinding spell. We had to go back to the dorms eventually. That's the natural habitat of college students. That's where we were supposed to be, right? We couldn't hang out in the motel forever. We didn't have a shitload of money and there were people -- our roommates, anyway -- who would notice our absence. Plus, Jezebel was probably contained by now, if a "team of commandos" is anything like they are in the movies. So, we weren't in direct danger anymore. All we had to do now is keep our profiles low and work out some kind of damage control. Amy could take care of Willow. Warren was probably still tinkering over something techy, and most likely hadn't noticed I hadn't been around for a couple of days.
I felt restless and distracted, laying on my back with my arm around a naked Amy. She was still asleep and cloyingly curled around me. We didn't mess around or anything the night before. There was no way, after the meeting with Lilah. My body was exhausted, but my brain was doing the Pop & Lock all over the place. Simultaneously trying to figure out what an internship at Wolfram & Hart would be like, imagining how exactly I was supposed to go to class and turn in papers and attend lectures on feminism, how I could get the dorm money back from the housing board.
When we got back to the hotel, Amy wanted to talk about Wolfram & Hart, a subject I was already touchy about. Every time she mentioned Lilah's name, I flinched. Still, she thought about how cool it would be if we both had internships. How much we could accomplish together. What kind of resources they might have at their disposal. I nodded a lot and tried to approximate some kind of enthusiasm, never saying what was on my mind.
I had to drop out. There was no way school could be the focus of my life when there was so much cooler shit to be done.
Amy checked us out of the hotel and we slowly made our way back across town, to campus. Everything looked normal enough when we got there. Glaringly normal. The student body seemed more or less intact, shuffling its way around on the footpaths, sitting on the rock walls, playing the role of the average Joe. I didn't have anything in common with these people. How could I? Had *they* spent the last three days in a twisted threesome with a witch and a succubus? How many felonies had they committed in the last 24 hours? What did they know about magic? What did they really think was going on in this shitass town?
I walked Amy to her dorm first, keeping my thoughts to myself. We discussed briefly how to placate Willow, not really coming up with anything clever beyond "it was all a bad dream." I told the girl (that was apparently my girlfriend) that she was smart and would figure something out. "Make something up," was my brilliant and typical advice. And, "call me later."
Walking back to my dorm, I stopped in the lobby and picked up the newsletter, recognizing the picture on the front with a jolt. The newly-deceased Parker Abrams, dead of a sudden and massive heart attack. Yeah fucking right. And Jezebel wasn't around at the time, I'm sure. "Died doing what he loved most." What a tragedy! He died boning my succubus. I shuddered, remembering Jezebel's body, the low growl of her voice, and then recalled the sickening feeling of being drained. I almost felt sorry for Parker, even though... Well. Yeah. He was a dickhead, but, "poor guy." That was enough remorse. Was I supposed to be shocked that he fell for it? Fell for her? She was perfect, so I knew he would. I didn't know he'd die when I summoned her, but I probably knew it was possible when I sent Jezebel away from the motel room. Part of me knew that's who Jezebel was leeching when I was with Lilah. But, to see it in print. God. I know I should feel horrible. I was sort of responsible for his death, in a way. I was a bad, bad man.
And the best part? I was going to get away with it! Both of us were. Me and Amy were in the clear.
There's a word that summarizes how I was feeling, and that word is: Mwa-ha-ha.
I scanned the rest of the newsletter, feeling more bolstered and cheerful by the second. Dead shopkeeper. Suspect apprehended. What would appear to be a "team of commandos" at the Bronze. Fucking awesome. Wolfram & Hart was my new best friend. I owed them big. Breaking into a smile, I folded the newsletter up and stuffed it in my back pocket. This was going in my scrapbook, for sure. Now, it was just a matter of avoiding my brother and figuring out the rest of my life. Probably on my own, as Amy wouldn't be down with me leaving school. Or Warren. Maybe Lilah Morgan would advise it? If I had more time to work on my internship, without juggling school bullshit -- who would argue? Getting on with the rest of my real life was just looking way better than seeing through a crappy piece of paper.
[ETA: (OOC) Yeah, I know. I had pulled Tucker out of school. But then I got my ass kicked by his girlfriend and so I'll just plant the thought as a seed. Not actually go *through* with it. Sorry for the stupidity.]
[[Open to appropriate characters. Amy, Warren, Lilah, Andrew, Willow? Etc.]]
I felt restless and distracted, laying on my back with my arm around a naked Amy. She was still asleep and cloyingly curled around me. We didn't mess around or anything the night before. There was no way, after the meeting with Lilah. My body was exhausted, but my brain was doing the Pop & Lock all over the place. Simultaneously trying to figure out what an internship at Wolfram & Hart would be like, imagining how exactly I was supposed to go to class and turn in papers and attend lectures on feminism, how I could get the dorm money back from the housing board.
When we got back to the hotel, Amy wanted to talk about Wolfram & Hart, a subject I was already touchy about. Every time she mentioned Lilah's name, I flinched. Still, she thought about how cool it would be if we both had internships. How much we could accomplish together. What kind of resources they might have at their disposal. I nodded a lot and tried to approximate some kind of enthusiasm, never saying what was on my mind.
I had to drop out. There was no way school could be the focus of my life when there was so much cooler shit to be done.
Amy checked us out of the hotel and we slowly made our way back across town, to campus. Everything looked normal enough when we got there. Glaringly normal. The student body seemed more or less intact, shuffling its way around on the footpaths, sitting on the rock walls, playing the role of the average Joe. I didn't have anything in common with these people. How could I? Had *they* spent the last three days in a twisted threesome with a witch and a succubus? How many felonies had they committed in the last 24 hours? What did they know about magic? What did they really think was going on in this shitass town?
I walked Amy to her dorm first, keeping my thoughts to myself. We discussed briefly how to placate Willow, not really coming up with anything clever beyond "it was all a bad dream." I told the girl (that was apparently my girlfriend) that she was smart and would figure something out. "Make something up," was my brilliant and typical advice. And, "call me later."
Walking back to my dorm, I stopped in the lobby and picked up the newsletter, recognizing the picture on the front with a jolt. The newly-deceased Parker Abrams, dead of a sudden and massive heart attack. Yeah fucking right. And Jezebel wasn't around at the time, I'm sure. "Died doing what he loved most." What a tragedy! He died boning my succubus. I shuddered, remembering Jezebel's body, the low growl of her voice, and then recalled the sickening feeling of being drained. I almost felt sorry for Parker, even though... Well. Yeah. He was a dickhead, but, "poor guy." That was enough remorse. Was I supposed to be shocked that he fell for it? Fell for her? She was perfect, so I knew he would. I didn't know he'd die when I summoned her, but I probably knew it was possible when I sent Jezebel away from the motel room. Part of me knew that's who Jezebel was leeching when I was with Lilah. But, to see it in print. God. I know I should feel horrible. I was sort of responsible for his death, in a way. I was a bad, bad man.
And the best part? I was going to get away with it! Both of us were. Me and Amy were in the clear.
There's a word that summarizes how I was feeling, and that word is: Mwa-ha-ha.
I scanned the rest of the newsletter, feeling more bolstered and cheerful by the second. Dead shopkeeper. Suspect apprehended. What would appear to be a "team of commandos" at the Bronze. Fucking awesome. Wolfram & Hart was my new best friend. I owed them big. Breaking into a smile, I folded the newsletter up and stuffed it in my back pocket. This was going in my scrapbook, for sure. Now, it was just a matter of avoiding my brother and figuring out the rest of my life. Probably on my own, as Amy wouldn't be down with me leaving school. Or Warren. Maybe Lilah Morgan would advise it? If I had more time to work on my internship, without juggling school bullshit -- who would argue? Getting on with the rest of my real life was just looking way better than seeing through a crappy piece of paper.
[ETA: (OOC) Yeah, I know. I had pulled Tucker out of school. But then I got my ass kicked by his girlfriend and so I'll just plant the thought as a seed. Not actually go *through* with it. Sorry for the stupidity.]
[[Open to appropriate characters. Amy, Warren, Lilah, Andrew, Willow? Etc.]]