WOW. I mean, really, there wasn't another word for it. Just...wow. I could smell everything. Flitting above people, darting around their heads and then flying away, I caught sniffs of humans and weres and vampires and witches and wizards and...
Holy crap, another pixy! Pulling myself up - finding that 'hyper' probably was too tame a word for what I was, because man was I wired! - I fluttered my wings in a high pitched whine of warning. This was my turf! Put 'em up! I was a pixy, damn it, and I would tear the intruder limb from limb...
I stopped so suddenly I literally did a few ungraceful flips in mid-air before I managed to steady myself. "What?" My hopeful expression was quickly pulled back into a scowl. "Nick was not my puppy." Puppies don't leave
( ... )
Heh. Jenks fought the smirk and failed horribly. She was so off balance right now. It was hilarious. Unfortunately, her current scowl totally negated the hilarity into just that smirk - man, party pooper - and he frowned back in return. "Not YOUR puppy, just A puppy," he clarified in a dull voice, furrowing his eyebrows back to her.
Knew what she was doing? Jenks eyed the droop of her wings with a raised eyebrow, his own face contorting into a bit of a frown. "Certain knew that you were being a right-out martyr," he commented in a mumble to himself, turning his eyes onto her in a slight glare. Better off? "Yeah, better off. You know, both of you seem it, what with him shut up in that stupid hut of his all day and you out here looking like you could use a really strong pep spell." Jeez. Relationships. How lucky was he to have a fantastic one? Oh, wait, very.
"Kick my ass?" Oh, it was on. "Oh, I doubt it, Witchy Butt! I bet you can't even pix yet! Took my tykes a week or so just to figure out how. And it takes forever to be able to do
( ... )
"Him being in that thrice damned hut has nothing to do with me," I shot back, indignant. I had to keep thinking that. Because if I allowed myself to realize I'd fucked up something really good for no reason, I'd seriously get depressed. "Look, Jenks, I don't want to talk about it any more. It's done. Over. And he probably won't even notice. I was a fuck and nothing else, all right?"
My wings buzzed in a high-pitched whine and shone a deep red of irritation as I darted down the hallway. I shouldn't snap at Jenks. This wasn't his fault. Taking a deep breath, I scrubbed my face with one hand, snorting quietly. "Oh, I bet I could, little man. I bet I could pix the hell out of everyone. I am the pix master supreme." I paused, thinking. "How do you do it?"
Yeah, yeah, sure it didn't. Jenks was thisclose to sniping back at her, something rather crude and probably mean-spirited. But Rachel's tone definitely got to him, on some level, and he folded his arms, fixing her with an accusing glint to his eyes instead. Fine. He wouldn't say anything else. "Doesn't sound like the Rachel Morgan I know," he pointed out shortly, raising his eyebrows at her and shaking his head. Okay. Maybe he'd say one more thing.
At any rate. Oh, snap. His hands automatically went to plant on his hips, and emoconcern and worrying automatically delved into cockiness. "Is that so-o-o-o-o?" he sang back in return, his own wings flaring to an irritated sort of pink - he was mad, of course, but not that real kind of mad. Just the annoyed kind that she could POSSIBLY have the arrogance to call herself the pix master supreme in the company of Jenks. "You know, for that, I might just not even show you."
Wincing slightly, I looked away. He was right. I was just so freaked out by the whole Dean thing; by the fact that, honestly, I was starting to fall for this emotionally unavailable guy who was just going to wind up hurting me, that I had done everything I could to push him away. Maybe some part of me had really been waiting for him to come running after me.
Ha. Like hell.
Shrugging once, I simply tried to let the matter drop. Tough toenails, Morgan. It was done.
Sticking my tongue out at Jenks, I blurred my wings in a brilliant display of red sparkles. "Bring it on, short stuff. Unless you're scared I'm just going to own your ass." I recognized what he was doing - giving me something else to focus on. And I appreciated it. Because boy, was I ready to not be thinking about Dean.
Oh, yeah. Definitely done. Something that Jenks could have pointed out just then, and, again, very meanly so, but chose not to. She was distraught enough right now - he really didn't want to make things worse.
Okay, but, yeah. Distractions were cool. Rachel, at least, seemed to have some kind of control over the wings thus far. Which was a hard concept to grasp, he'd admit. Took a little while to do. "Oh, I doubt it, toots!" he scoffed back in return, flexing his biceps. "You can try, but no way you can send up to Jenksy, punk!"
Oh, no he didn't. That was a challenge, my friend. Concentrating hard, I tried to remember what I'd seen Jenks do. But, sadly, I'd never really put much thought into how he pixed someone, so all I came up with was the gleeful little tone his voice always got. Not helpful.
Fine. Mind over matter. Brow furrowing, I closed my eyes and beat my wings furiously, sending a steady stream of pixie dust towards the floor. After a moment, I stopped, panting, dropping a good half foot before I managed to regain my balance. "How was that?"
Hee. Jenks watched along, hands on his hips, as the pixie dust fluttered from her wings to the floor. Hmm. He grabbed at some of the dust, inspecting the stuff and quirking a grin at the corner of his mouth.
"Close, chica, but no cigar," he replied with a smirk, slapping the stuff from his hands and glancing back to her. "You're trying too hard! And that's not pixing. That's just pixie dust. Which might make'm sneeze, but, you know, otherwise... not much."
Holy crap, another pixy! Pulling myself up - finding that 'hyper' probably was too tame a word for what I was, because man was I wired! - I fluttered my wings in a high pitched whine of warning. This was my turf! Put 'em up! I was a pixy, damn it, and I would tear the intruder limb from limb...
Oh. It was Jenks.
"Hi, Jenks!"
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Knew what she was doing? Jenks eyed the droop of her wings with a raised eyebrow, his own face contorting into a bit of a frown. "Certain knew that you were being a right-out martyr," he commented in a mumble to himself, turning his eyes onto her in a slight glare. Better off? "Yeah, better off. You know, both of you seem it, what with him shut up in that stupid hut of his all day and you out here looking like you could use a really strong pep spell." Jeez. Relationships. How lucky was he to have a fantastic one? Oh, wait, very.
"Kick my ass?" Oh, it was on. "Oh, I doubt it, Witchy Butt! I bet you can't even pix yet! Took my tykes a week or so just to figure out how. And it takes forever to be able to do ( ... )
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My wings buzzed in a high-pitched whine and shone a deep red of irritation as I darted down the hallway. I shouldn't snap at Jenks. This wasn't his fault. Taking a deep breath, I scrubbed my face with one hand, snorting quietly. "Oh, I bet I could, little man. I bet I could pix the hell out of everyone. I am the pix master supreme." I paused, thinking. "How do you do it?"
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At any rate. Oh, snap. His hands automatically went to plant on his hips, and emoconcern and worrying automatically delved into cockiness. "Is that so-o-o-o-o?" he sang back in return, his own wings flaring to an irritated sort of pink - he was mad, of course, but not that real kind of mad. Just the annoyed kind that she could POSSIBLY have the arrogance to call herself the pix master supreme in the company of Jenks. "You know, for that, I might just not even show you."
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Ha. Like hell.
Shrugging once, I simply tried to let the matter drop. Tough toenails, Morgan. It was done.
Sticking my tongue out at Jenks, I blurred my wings in a brilliant display of red sparkles. "Bring it on, short stuff. Unless you're scared I'm just going to own your ass." I recognized what he was doing - giving me something else to focus on. And I appreciated it. Because boy, was I ready to not be thinking about Dean.
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Okay, but, yeah. Distractions were cool. Rachel, at least, seemed to have some kind of control over the wings thus far. Which was a hard concept to grasp, he'd admit. Took a little while to do. "Oh, I doubt it, toots!" he scoffed back in return, flexing his biceps. "You can try, but no way you can send up to Jenksy, punk!"
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Fine. Mind over matter. Brow furrowing, I closed my eyes and beat my wings furiously, sending a steady stream of pixie dust towards the floor. After a moment, I stopped, panting, dropping a good half foot before I managed to regain my balance. "How was that?"
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"Close, chica, but no cigar," he replied with a smirk, slapping the stuff from his hands and glancing back to her. "You're trying too hard! And that's not pixing. That's just pixie dust. Which might make'm sneeze, but, you know, otherwise... not much."
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