Tonight, Ava Wilson looks cute. Cute skirt, dark blue tee with a sliiiightly plunging neckline-- admittedly, she's sitting down, but that still leaves her with the plunging
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There is something slightly weird about this entire conversation. Riley can't quite put his finger on it.
His beer is still empty, though. Maybe ... this will get less-slightly-weird if he gets a beer and then comes back?
"Yeah, she's definitely got me on the ropes," Riley says, a little rueful but mostly amused/admiring. He pushes his chair back, getting up and snagging his empty glass. "I'm gonna grab a refill; can I get you anything?" This is to Ava's Boss, whose name sounded kind of like a sneeze and Riley can't remember. "A drink that doesn't have Jenga tiles in it?" This is to Ava.
Riley can't decide what's creepier: the fact that there is something out there called 'bloodwurm wine' and people actually drink it, or that he is going to have to carry whatever the fuck this is.
His face may express some of this.
"--Uh, yeah," he says. (Some things, even 'oh Milliways' can't handle.) "Sure thing."
He wends his way off through patrons and tables.
Bloodwurm wine??? he mouths to himself as soon as his back is turned.
"Do you really wanna know?" she says ruefully, though her smile remains pleasant.
This is for the benefit of anyone glancing over from afar (like Riley, say).
And actually, she decides that rhetorical questions are annoying as well: "There was some boy drama. Right now my sugar and spice alibi is hanging by a thread." She shrugs. "Annnnd it turned out he was in love with me or something. That was awkward."
"Hilarious," he says, to the last. "Hm. I'm not sure I can be a character witness, but if he finds out about your work let me know. I know how his mind works."
"He'll like you better if he thinks he can help redeem you than he would if you were squeaky clean."
"So you've moved on from a Watcher to... what's this guy? A paladin or something?"
"... I don't know what that means," Ava says with faint suspicion, to the last.
"Does it matter that he's a Watcher person?" (She leaves out the part where she does not want Andrew to like her better.)
A curious pause. Then, brighter: "Maybe I could work the redemption angle. I'm, uh, apparently talking to somebody's Champion friend about ... something? She said it wasn't a bad-undead-people-anonymous club, but whatever, I can read between the lines."
"Wait, you're talking to a Champion? A female Champion?" He shakes his head.
"You are white hat catnip. The Watchers... are a subject for another time," he says, watching Riley peripherally. "I've known them for a long, long time."
"As for your personal life, it's your own business. Just make sure to invite me to the wedding, if there is one. Mixed alignment weddings are always so much fun."
Ava shakes her head. "Guy. The Champion thing was something he said, so whoooo even knows."
She follows his gaze to Riley, though hers travels beyond the peripheral and stays with him a moment. She is realizing that a couple of universes she used to think of as their own safe, discrete bubbles may have just criss-crossed unpleasantly.
Said cute good guy is currently winding back around the last table separating them, carrying two bottles of beer by the necks in one hand and ... what can only be described as a chalice in the other.
If Riley seems like he's trying to hold the chalice away from his body without actually looking like he's doing it, that's because he is. It may not be blood-red, but it's still creeping him out a little.
"Okay," he says. "Wine--" he hands the chalice off to Ava's Boss Man, then passes one of the beers into his suddenly free hand. He offers it to Ava. "And Jenga-less beer."
Ava weighs this as she takes a calculated sip of her drink.
"D'Hoffryn," she decides to admit.
A wave of her free hand, dismissive and weirded out. "I haven't had to change my name to D'Wilson or anything, so I mostly don't ask." She wrinkles her nose. "I try to stay tolerant around here."
Someone waves to a rat and orders a glass of something raw and wriggling.
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His beer is still empty, though. Maybe ... this will get less-slightly-weird if he gets a beer and then comes back?
"Yeah, she's definitely got me on the ropes," Riley says, a little rueful but mostly amused/admiring. He pushes his chair back, getting up and snagging his empty glass. "I'm gonna grab a refill; can I get you anything?" This is to Ava's Boss, whose name sounded kind of like a sneeze and Riley can't remember. "A drink that doesn't have Jenga tiles in it?" This is to Ava.
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And yet she does.
Oh good, great.
Smiling, she says, "That'd be great, thanks-- same thing is fine, just ... like you said. Minus the Jenga tiles."
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His face may express some of this.
"--Uh, yeah," he says. (Some things, even 'oh Milliways' can't handle.) "Sure thing."
He wends his way off through patrons and tables.
Bloodwurm wine??? he mouths to himself as soon as his back is turned.
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"He's nice. Cute. What happened to Wells?"
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Demonic omnipotence is seriously annoying.
"Do you really wanna know?" she says ruefully, though her smile remains pleasant.
This is for the benefit of anyone glancing over from afar (like Riley, say).
And actually, she decides that rhetorical questions are annoying as well: "There was some boy drama. Right now my sugar and spice alibi is hanging by a thread." She shrugs. "Annnnd it turned out he was in love with me or something. That was awkward."
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"He'll like you better if he thinks he can help redeem you than he would if you were squeaky clean."
"So you've moved on from a Watcher to... what's this guy? A paladin or something?"
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"Does it matter that he's a Watcher person?" (She leaves out the part where she does not want Andrew to like her better.)
A curious pause. Then, brighter: "Maybe I could work the redemption angle. I'm, uh, apparently talking to somebody's Champion friend about ... something? She said it wasn't a bad-undead-people-anonymous club, but whatever, I can read between the lines."
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"You are white hat catnip. The Watchers... are a subject for another time," he says, watching Riley peripherally. "I've known them for a long, long time."
"As for your personal life, it's your own business. Just make sure to invite me to the wedding, if there is one. Mixed alignment weddings are always so much fun."
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She follows his gaze to Riley, though hers travels beyond the peripheral and stays with him a moment. She is realizing that a couple of universes she used to think of as their own safe, discrete bubbles may have just criss-crossed unpleasantly.
She needs more alcohol.
"Will do," Ava confirms, absently pleasant.
A beat, and she smiles.
"Glad you think he's cute."
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If Riley seems like he's trying to hold the chalice away from his body without actually looking like he's doing it, that's because he is. It may not be blood-red, but it's still creeping him out a little.
"Okay," he says. "Wine--" he hands the chalice off to Ava's Boss Man, then passes one of the beers into his suddenly free hand. He offers it to Ava. "And Jenga-less beer."
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He gives Ava a sharp glance; Angel??
She really is white hat catnip.
"Well, I'll let you two wacky kids get back to it. Have fun."
And don't let him forget his shield of protection, little lady.
Arashmaharr does not offer maternity leave.
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... Wow, you're good.
"You bet!" she says cheerfully.
It's pretty fortunate that she has already swallowed her first sip of her next beer by the time she catches that second message.
OH MY GOD LSDJLFJSDF DID YOU YOU SERIOUSLY--
Yes.
Thank you.
See you tomorrow.
"He's kind of, um," she says, for Riley's benefit.
"Eccentric."
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"D'Hoffryn," she decides to admit.
A wave of her free hand, dismissive and weirded out. "I haven't had to change my name to D'Wilson or anything, so I mostly don't ask." She wrinkles her nose. "I try to stay tolerant around here."
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