Pixie Stix B3, Friday Afternoon

[wesleynotponcy]

Wesley returned to his cabin after class to discover an elderly British man sitting on his bed.

"Er. Hello," said Wesley. Obviously the Watchers' Council was keeping tabs on him. How wonderful.

When the man responded, it was in a dry, slow voice like that of a professor whose students are always checking to see if he fell asleep between sentences. "Wesley," he said in that irritating buzzing tone. "What is the weakest part of the body of a Kungai demon?"

"The horn," Wesley answered promptly. Lovely. This was some kind of test.

"That is correct, though their eyes are weak points as well," the man informed him. "And when fighting them, one would be advised to lunge forward frequently to distract the beasts with the fast movements."

Wesley was about to reply with something along the lines of "who the hell are you" when he absorbed that last bit. "You've been reading the Gunderson Index of Demons," he said, eyes lighting up. "That's my favorite index!"

"No, Wesley," said the man, who Wesley begun to notice had pale, papery skin, like... paper...

"Have you guessed it?" the man asked, smiling. "You always were bright. Did you know you're the youngest reader I've ever had? Only eleven years old the first time you picked me up. And you've read me more since than any of the old bastards at the Council. You're better off here, I say."

Wes was touched. "Thank you," he said. Then the nerd in him plopped down on the bed next to the book as he began asking a ton of questions all in a rush.

[open to cabinmates!]

Comments

[rilla-myrilla.livejournal.com]

Rilla stomped through the cabin looking harassed as another young woman in an enormous hat trailed behind her.

"Wesley, have you seen my hat?" she finally asked. The woman behind her grinned.

[wesleynotponcy.livejournal.com]

Wesley cut off his book by holding up a hand, though he looked a bit pained to be doing so. "No, I haven't," he replied. He held out a hand for Rilla's hat to shake. "It's a pleasure to meet you," he said politely.

[rilla-myrilla.livejournal.com]

"Likewise," the hat replied. "I've tried telling her--" the hat had apparently picked up Rilla's fondness for italics, "--but she won't believe me. Who is your friend?"

Rilla just stared in confusion.

[wesleynotponcy.livejournal.com]

"Gunderson's Index of Demons," said the book in his buzzing voice, cutting Wesley off. "Apparently a favorite book of Wesley's, here."

Wesley tried to interject that the book wasn't likely to be his favorite for long if it kept talking over him, but the book said, Hush, boy," and Wesley quieted.

[rilla-myrilla.livejournal.com]

"Demon?" Rilla repeated, aghast, but the hat kept right on talking. "A pleasure," she said, smiling. "I'm Rilla's favourite hat."

"Not any longer you're not," Rilla retorted. "Hats shouldn't speak. It isn't proper."

[wesleynotponcy.livejournal.com]

The book made an appreciative/pervy-sounding old-man type of noise. "I'm sure you're quite a sightly hat," he observed. Pervily.

Wesley was several minutes away from facepalming. He frankly had preferred it when the book had been talking about demons that leaked pus and ate babies.

"So, Rilla," Wes said loudly. "How has your week been?"

[rilla-myrilla.livejournal.com]

"Quite well," she said with a little glare directed at the strange woman pretending to be her hat. "Nothing out of the ordinary at all."

Pause.

"Today aside," she added sheepishly. "And yourself?"

[wesleynotponcy.livejournal.com]

Wesley sighed. "I'm conversing with a verbally abusive demonic text," he said with a laugh. "I spent the morning having desserts flung at my face. And now my book is propositioning your hat."

It was true.

[rilla-myrilla.livejournal.com]

Rilla blushed. "I'm sure my hat would never take your, erm, book up on that."

The giggles from the hat told a different story. Rilla ignored that.

"Who was flinging desserts?" she inquired. "That seems like such a terrible waste of sweets."

[wesleynotponcy.livejournal.com]

The book chuckled back heartily and raised his eyebrows suggestively. Wesley forced himself to look away, because it was just a little gross. Or a lot. He'd fallen asleep on that book a number of times in the past, and that was just... weird.

"My Marksmanship class practiced aiming today by throwing pies," Wes explained. "It was rather unpleasant."

[rilla-myrilla.livejournal.com]

And while Rilla had chosen the hat because it was a rather flashy, popular little thing, she hadn't expected it to attract someone so...old.

It was quite disconcerting.

"I can imagine," she said, wrinkling her nose. "Were you quite drenched when you left? Were they cream or fruit pies?"

[wesleynotponcy.livejournal.com]

"Quite," Wesley said dryly. "They were all sorts of pies, as far as I could tell. And while they were quite delicious I - "

"Oh, quit your whining, boy," the book said, slapping him on the back. "You're made of tougher stuff than that. You're a Wyndam-Pryce! Watchers for centuries! Now stop complaining and - "

"That is enough, thank you," Wesley said fake-brightly.

[rilla-myrilla.livejournal.com]

"Oh, I don't think he was complaining, sir," Rilla said earnestly, "merely recounting a very trying day."

She blinked. "What do you watch?"

[wesleynotponcy.livejournal.com]

"What do I - oh," Wesley started to ask, then realized what she meant. "Er."

Somehow he doubted that Rilla, who still seemed (rightly) indignant over talking hats and books, would take well to hearing about his whole destiny to "watch," or advise, teenage vampire slayers and help them not die.

So he said the first thing that came into his head. "Jesus," he blurted out.

The book arched an eyebrow, but said nothing.

Jesus, Wes? Really?

[rilla-myrilla.livejournal.com]

Well that would explain the book on demons in a way that didn't lead to Satanism! Rilla was so pleased!

She smiled. "That's wonderful!" she said enthusiastically. "We should go to church together some week."

[wesleynotponcy.livejournal.com]

Oh. Um.

"Certainly," said Wes in a choked sort of tone, trying to sound enthusiastic. "Yes, er, church has always been rather a passion of mine."

What was he saying?

The book offered gruffly, "Quite true. The boy knows all the hymms and psalms and such."

This had absolutely no basis in reality. Wesley resisted the urge to kick him.

[rilla-myrilla.livejournal.com]

Rilla clapped her hands together, absolutely delighted. "We should go next week," she decided. "I'll need a new hat." She shot her current one, who was busy fluttering her eyelashes at the book, a dirty look. "I no longer like the one I have."

[wesleynotponcy.livejournal.com]

"Splendid," said Wesley, trying rapidly to figure out how to get out of this. Finding no "out," he just smiled forcedly and nodded.

[rilla-myrilla.livejournal.com]

Oh, poor Wesley. "And then perhaps we can stop for pastries after," Rilla said, "if you experience today didn't put you off pie forever, which would be tragic."

[wesleynotponcy.livejournal.com]

Wesley nodded, choked. "Sounds wonderful," he said.

The book coughed loudly. "Pardon me," he said gruffly, sounding not at all interested in being pardoned.

[rilla-myrilla.livejournal.com]

She beamed at them both, hopping a little on the balls of her feet. "It will be marvelous," she said.

Her hat rolled her eyes.