“Oh, ha ha ha,” Cordelia snorts, “Pedophilia, that’s really *funny*! They didn’t think adding sense of humor would be good huh?”
Lilah shrugs and smirks at me. “I dunno. Wes doesn’t seem to have a problem with the pedophilia,” she pauses dramatically which makes me glare at her. “Oh wait, no. That’s *necrophilia!*” She laughs while Cordelia rolls her eyes.
This is great. I’m surrounded by the worlds greatest and worst comedy act. Could my life get any worse?
Hamilton is still talking, offering an insincere apology, because quite obviously he’s a person who’s used to getting what he wants whenever he wants. That’s interesting to know. The fact that he’s not all that likely to get this time, is probably the only reason he’s still around here, taunting and mocking me. Unless he grows bored, I have to wonder if he’ll just take what he wants then.
“Don’t assume to know what I like and what I don’t like, you arrogant wanker,” I tell him, sliding away from him some more to the other side of the sofa. “You’re really used to getting what you want without anyone saying no, aren’t you? It annoys you that I don’t throw myself at you in complete lust just because you happened to have kissed me. Well, to tell the truth, I’ve had far, far better, thank you.”
“You certainly seemed to enjoy Angel’s,” Lilah is happy to point out.
“Gotta admit,” Cordelia shrugs, “Hamilton lips, pretty good to. Not that I was thinking of him kissing me. Nuh uh, no way. I’m *so* not into the necrophilia.”
“At your age that would be pedophilia, kiddo,” Lilah smirks earning her the glare of death from Cordelia. Which is useless, since they’re both already dead.
"I'm used to getting what I ask for, yes," I tell Pryce. I carry out the requests of the Senior Partners, and They are quite used to getting what they want.
Pryce slides a little further down the sofa.
I grin. "No throwing of yourself is necessary," I say. "However, it might be nice if you didn't glare at me afterward as though you'd already been thrown to the wolves."
I run a hand down the front of my suit coat, straightening the fabric.
"And far, far better, hmm?" I continue. "If you were a lady, Wesley, I'd say you doth protest too much. But there's little chance of making that mistake. And I'm open to any pointers you might like to give."
“There’s a surprise,” Cordelia snorts. “Such a bully. I’ll bet you ten bucks he was going ‘I want! I want! In his teeny tiny little petrie dish.”
Lilah chuckles, giving Cordy an appreciative glance. “Now that was actually funny.”
I just keep looking at the aforementioned big bully on the other side of the sofa. He’s grinning now and it makes me shiver. I’m not entirely sure if that’s a bad or a good shiver, which is rather disconcerting on it’s own. “After what? And you *did* throw me in front of the wolves.”
Intensifying my glare since apparently he noticed *that* much, I narrow my eyes at him. I watch as he runs a broad hand over his chest in the pretence of straightening his tie. And he’s still talking. Why is he still talking?
“Oh that was so an insult! He just called you a Girl!” Cordelia is quick to point out. “Yeah sure I said that like a lot. And there was the screaming like a girl stage and the whole no clothes an actual man would wear.” She gives me a sidelong glance and wrinkles her nose. “Always knew you were kinda gay. Anyway, no reason to call you a girl.”
“Definitely not a girl,” Lilah purrs on my right. “Got proof of that. In Technicolor and dolby surround sound. Which he doesn’t so how would he know? Been watching you in the shower? Naughty boy.”
“Ewww! So not with the need to know! Wait, showers? They got showers here? And yeah, how does he know there’s ‘little chance’ in mistaking you for a girl?”
Good question, I suppose, but at the moment I’ve had quite enough. “Don’t you have better things to do then sit here and insult me? Because I certainly have better things to do then to listen to them.” I ask. “And yes, before you throw yourself into more wordless platitudes, that *was* very much an insult. The kissing was your doing and yours alone. *I* merely pointed that your *skin* was made from a fine Armani suit. Something you have yet to dispel, I may add.”
“...you *did* throw me in front of the wolves,” he tosses back at me, and I raise a brow.
"Did I?" I ask.
Pryce glares and fidgets in agitation, questioning whether I have "anything better to do". Undoubtedly. But I ignore the question for the moment, and instead say, "Actually, no insult was intended. But I suppose there's little wonder you're sensitive to being compared to a female, in any form or fashion. After working with Angel for as long as you have."
Before he can misinterpret that, I explain, "Seems to me that when Angel isn't treating you like the little woman, he's trying to play the knight to your damsel in distress." Running to the rescue when Pryce is communing with the local plantlife; keeping Pryce hidden away in his office when he isn't - the corporate version of the dutiful housewife, barefoot in the kitchen. Minus the kitchen, obviously.
I thought we could finish this thread first, that way if the others want some "screentime" with Wes or Hamilton, we're ready to go :p I'll make that post though. strangecreature has already said she definitely wants in.
I just noticed that it's been over more then a year. Hahah! Wow.
I think you'd best post in the OOC first and then let eveyone say if they a) Want to join in again and b) We need to know everyone is and c) how to go from there. I'll probably need to re-read a few threads to see what was going on again myself, for example.
Hey :) I posted - looks like everybody's still on board - after a year! :p Gah, I didn't even realize it had been so long! Yeah, I'm going to make a post in the OOC about where the story is so far/ideas for where to go/ etc.
Lilah shrugs and smirks at me. “I dunno. Wes doesn’t seem to have a problem with the pedophilia,” she pauses dramatically which makes me glare at her. “Oh wait, no. That’s *necrophilia!*” She laughs while Cordelia rolls her eyes.
This is great. I’m surrounded by the worlds greatest and worst comedy act. Could my life get any worse?
Hamilton is still talking, offering an insincere apology, because quite obviously he’s a person who’s used to getting what he wants whenever he wants. That’s interesting to know. The fact that he’s not all that likely to get this time, is probably the only reason he’s still around here, taunting and mocking me. Unless he grows bored, I have to wonder if he’ll just take what he wants then.
“Don’t assume to know what I like and what I don’t like, you arrogant wanker,” I tell him, sliding away from him some more to the other side of the sofa. “You’re really used to getting what you want without anyone saying no, aren’t you? It annoys you that I don’t throw myself at you in complete lust just because you happened to have kissed me. Well, to tell the truth, I’ve had far, far better, thank you.”
“You certainly seemed to enjoy Angel’s,” Lilah is happy to point out.
“Gotta admit,” Cordelia shrugs, “Hamilton lips, pretty good to. Not that I was thinking of him kissing me. Nuh uh, no way. I’m *so* not into the necrophilia.”
“At your age that would be pedophilia, kiddo,” Lilah smirks earning her the glare of death from Cordelia. Which is useless, since they’re both already dead.
Reply
Pryce slides a little further down the sofa.
I grin. "No throwing of yourself is necessary," I say. "However, it might be nice if you didn't glare at me afterward as though you'd already been thrown to the wolves."
I run a hand down the front of my suit coat, straightening the fabric.
"And far, far better, hmm?" I continue. "If you were a lady, Wesley, I'd say you doth protest too much. But there's little chance of making that mistake. And I'm open to any pointers you might like to give."
Reply
Lilah chuckles, giving Cordy an appreciative glance. “Now that was actually funny.”
I just keep looking at the aforementioned big bully on the other side of the sofa. He’s grinning now and it makes me shiver. I’m not entirely sure if that’s a bad or a good shiver, which is rather disconcerting on it’s own. “After what? And you *did* throw me in front of the wolves.”
Intensifying my glare since apparently he noticed *that* much, I narrow my eyes at him. I watch as he runs a broad hand over his chest in the pretence of straightening his tie. And he’s still talking. Why is he still talking?
“Oh that was so an insult! He just called you a Girl!” Cordelia is quick to point out. “Yeah sure I said that like a lot. And there was the screaming like a girl stage and the whole no clothes an actual man would wear.” She gives me a sidelong glance and wrinkles her nose. “Always knew you were kinda gay. Anyway, no reason to call you a girl.”
“Definitely not a girl,” Lilah purrs on my right. “Got proof of that. In Technicolor and dolby surround sound. Which he doesn’t so how would he know? Been watching you in the shower? Naughty boy.”
“Ewww! So not with the need to know! Wait, showers? They got showers here? And yeah, how does he know there’s ‘little chance’ in mistaking you for a girl?”
Good question, I suppose, but at the moment I’ve had quite enough. “Don’t you have better things to do then sit here and insult me? Because I certainly have better things to do then to listen to them.” I ask. “And yes, before you throw yourself into more wordless platitudes, that *was* very much an insult. The kissing was your doing and yours alone. *I* merely pointed that your *skin* was made from a fine Armani suit. Something you have yet to dispel, I may add.”
Reply
"Did I?" I ask.
Pryce glares and fidgets in agitation, questioning whether I have "anything better to do". Undoubtedly. But I ignore the question for the moment, and instead say, "Actually, no insult was intended. But I suppose there's little wonder you're sensitive to being compared to a female, in any form or fashion. After working with Angel for as long as you have."
Before he can misinterpret that, I explain, "Seems to me that when Angel isn't treating you like the little woman, he's trying to play the knight to your damsel in distress." Running to the rescue when Pryce is communing with the local plantlife; keeping Pryce hidden away in his office when he isn't - the corporate version of the dutiful housewife, barefoot in the kitchen. Minus the kitchen, obviously.
Reply
Errr... did you want me to tag back? Or did you want to post in the OOC first and see if the rest is ready for a re-start?
Reply
Reply
I think you'd best post in the OOC first and then let eveyone say if they a) Want to join in again and b) We need to know everyone is and c) how to go from there. I'll probably need to re-read a few threads to see what was going on again myself, for example.
What do you think?
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment