nevermore_logs | (no subject)

Entry tags:

saint george,
wrath

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Who: George, UK!George, and Wrath
When: Saturday
Where: Out and about
What: Meet the British me!

George announced himself by banging on his counterpart's hotel room door and yelling, "Are you in there having sex? Stop it!"

"Oh my God, stop it right now," the Limey said, answering the door with a scowl.

"No sign of Lust," George said, barging in and looking around the room. "I guess that means you haven't talked to her yet."

"Was there something you actually wanted?" the Limey asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You're going to meet Wrath," George said cheerfully, grabbing a hold of his counterpart's arm and tugging him towards the door. "You need to, she's the best."

"I think she hates me."

"She hated me too, at first, that's just how she says hi."

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Her George was so strange, but he put up with her, which was pretty impressive. "Pizza sounds like fucking good hangover food. Richard bought me too many Jagerbombs."

"So, is Richard your drinking buddy too?" George asked, falling into step next to his double. "My Richard has stolen the royal corgis."

Wrath burst out laughing at that, and then she turned red and felt a little bad because her George wouldn't find that so funny. She leaned into him and glanced at the limey. "Well we beat the crap out of Henry the Fat because he was trying to send a demon after George. And Irish. So drinking after seemed like a fucking good idea but today it seems less smart."

George winced. He had not actually planned on sharing that information with the Limey before he figured out how he felt about it.

Sure enough, the English George stopped in the middle of the hallway like he'd hit a wall and said, "What?"

Wrath raised her eyebrows when the Limey stopped in his tracks. "He's an asshole, so fucking sue us. I scared him so he would stop trying to come after George. He decided he's a traitor or something, I dunno."

George rounded on the Yankee. "Henry was threatening you and Patrick? How? Did you call the police?" He turned to Wrath. "Is Henry dead? Because you'll need to hide the body if he is."

Oh so he was one of those kind... "I didn't let Richard kill him. We were trying to scare the fuck out of him, not kill him. Seems extreme," she said easily. "He tried to send Beelzebub after them. Beelzebub wasn't interested, but it pissed everyone the fuck off."

George squeezed the bridge of his nose. He'd been in America for less than a week. Were things always like this here? He shot a look at the Yankee who shrugged and gave him an apologetic look.

"Thank you for not killing him," George told Wrath after a moment. "He's an awful bastard but...well, we served him once."

"That musta been a real treat," she scowled before hooking her arm through her George's. "But whatever, you're welcome. Didn't want George to make that face he makes when he's all disappointed."

"It's a very sad face," the Yankee said, doing his best impression of it. George rolled his eyes and hit the button for the elevator.

"He had Patrick locked in the Tower, tortured, and beheaded," George said, staring straight ahead at the elevator doors. "He's not my favorite person."

Wrath had been quite happy to drop the subject and giggle at her boyfriend's impression until Patrick's ordeal had been brought up. She froze and then grabbed George's arm. "He what?!"

George winced, because Wrath had a hell of a grip. "Yeah. He didn't know Patrick was Saint Patrick, or we'd probably never have been able to get him out of there, but...it wasn't good. I was hoping Patrick would never remember it."

He and the Limey had both decided, with zero discussion, that no one was going to mention that they had been the one to torture Patrick. Or at least, fake-tortured him.

While Patrick had never meant as much to her as George did, she understood him in a way a lot of people didn't seem to. Patrick had wrath in him as much as George did; it was just a different side of the spectrum. He had let her worm her way back into his life, given her a job, and always been kind even when she didn't really deserve it.

The thought of anyone hurting him made her feel angry and queasy at the same time.

"Fucking asshole," she hissed. "Shoulda broken a bone or something."

"What you did was enough," George said, kissing her cheek. "You put the fear of God in him. Or at least, the fear of you and Richard."

Wrath bounced a little when George told her she did a good job, like a dog being praised. She smiled and slid her hand into his and then gave a slight smirk to the Limey. "I am pretty fearsomeous."

"So I've heard, yes," George head, ducking his head and smiling. There was something a little charming about Wrath in person, he had to admit.

"I'm making him eat American pizza," the Yankee said in a stage whisper to Wrath.

"Supreme!" she hollared, not in a stage whisper at all. "Oh my god, it has so much shit on it and sometimes shrimp which look like little naked alien babies so I pick them off. Why would you want to eat an alien baby?"

At that, George snorted with laughter. The Yankee gave him a triumphant 'you see?' look.

"Have you ever eaten crab?" George asked, thumbing the button for the elevator. "Their faces look like the Predator."

"Yeah, but see, they look pissed off so I eat them out of spite! But not their faces because they're hard. Just their legs so they can't get away." She had made him laugh and that was good, right?

She gave her George's hand a little squeeze and then they stepped into the elevator.

George squeezed her hand back and kissed her on the cheek. He adored Wrath.

"Well, you'll get to eat at least one alien-looking creature today," he said. "Although I bet there's somewhere in the city that makes crab pizza. It's a personal mission for me to sample all the pizza in the city."

"Hahahaha your pizza has crabs," Wrath joked, mostly to herself. To the Limey she said, "you're not as fucking boring as I thought you were gonna be. You want to meet my fuckawesome horse after we eat some fucking pizza? I'll even let you touch her without breaking your fingers off. Her name is Lady Horsington. George named her."

"I'd heard something about Richard buying you a horse," George said. "I'm very honored to be able to pet her."

That, at least, was not sarcastic. There was no greater gesture of friendship than horses.

When the elevator opened again, she stepped out and waited for the George's to catch up to her. As she turned, another guest of the hotel slammed right into her and she fell to the side with a yelp.

"Fucking-!" Wrath steadied herself and then she fought against the urge to rip the other guest's head off.

"Hey man, watch it!" George said, an arm around Wrath to steady her (and possibly keep her from launching herself at the guy. He didn't mind getting angry on Wrath's behalf if it was something worth being irritated about.

The man mumbled an apology and shuffled away while Wrath took several breaths to calm herself down. "I'm okay," she finally said and then she put on a wavery smile. "See? No murdering today."

George kissed her forehead. "So it's a good day."

George could see the Limey watching Wrath, and he tensed up, wondering if he was about to say something that would ruin the day. But all the Limey said was, "You have a very good hold on your temper, Wrath. All things considered."

Wrath glanced at the Limey and the corner of her mouth lifted up. "Sometimes, yeah," she said. "If I try. 's not easy. Anyway. Pizza."

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