The Muffin Man


Seth_icon.gif Wesley_icon.gif

Summary: Wesley confronts Seth about his little bout of cursing.

Date It Happened: February 2nd, 2002

Log Title The Muffin Man

Downtown LA

Wesley is on a mission today. His jaw is set as he drives his motorbike, heading away from the Hyperion. He dug up Seth's information, which wasn't too difficult considering Wesley has found more difficult information. The ex-Watcher isn't exactly mad, but he's definitely not pleased at the state of two guests of Angel Investigations. Of the problems requiring his attention, this should be the easiest and quickest to resolve. Provided he gets the source of the curse and takes it from there.

What could possibly draw Seth Ward to the downtown part of Los Angeles? Well, there are many things. In this particular case the man has stopped by an art gallery after lunch, having being tipped off by a 'friend' - and now he steps triumphantly out onto the street with his cane in one hand and a wrapped package under his other arm, clutched tightly and protectively against his side. Why, you ask? Because he's just purchased a like-new shiny spectacular piece of demon artwork painted with the blood of a couple of martyrs. It'll look totally awesome in his library, what with the themes of damnation and torture. The warlock is apparently completely oblivious to the fact that he's so close to the Hyperion, or perhaps he just doesn't care. No matter the case the man starts strolling towards the street with a smug smile on his face, intending to hail himself a cab for the ride home.

Wesley almost.. /almost/ passes Seth by. It's the combination of cane and package that earns a second glance from the man. There's a squeal of tires amidst horns honking in protest as he u-turns there on the busy street to back track in Seth's direction. There's a momentary burst of speed followed by another squeal, this time of brakes along with the tires against the pavement as he comes to a stop. Coming close by the by, to running Seth over. Yes, this was on purpose. "You!," is all Wesley says as the engine is killed before climbing off the bike.

Only a moron would fail to notice the sudden commotion in the street, and Seth… is not a moron. He looks sharply in the direction of the disruption, and - and. And. And there's a motorcycle coming right for him. The warlock backsteps quickly, managing to stumble on the curb and nearly lose his balance. He stays upright however and gets the opportunity to eyeball Wesley while lifting both hands, tightening his grip on his package while half-brandishing his cane. He is not above trying to brain the ex-Watcher with the stick, either. 'You!' is never something that a person with a guilty conscience wants to hear. "Afternoon, Muffin. Didn't they teach you which side of the road to drive on when you bypassed our immigration laws? Do you even have a green card? I bet you don't."

Wesley pulls off his helmet, setting it on the seat before advancing on Seth. 'Muffin', doesn't look pleased. Obviously this is not a social call to catch up with crumpets, tea and missed information. Ignoring passing looks of annoyance for his disregard of traffic laws, he continues advancing. If he happens to back Seth up into a wall, good. If not. Oh well. "What the devil do you mean by cursing a pair of innocents and hitting a woman with your cane in the middle of Griffith park while a werewolf is attacking? Have you no sense to know which people in such a circumstance will require being held back? Do you require a diagram for assistance you sod?"

Oh lordy. When Wesley starts heading in his direction the warlock starts pacing carefully backwards, edging to the side here and there. Unfortunately Seth doesn't really have the freedom of movement that other men do and within short order his back thumps up against the brick wall of the building behind him. Since the Englishman clearly knows details, denial seems pointless. "They deserved it," is the simple answer, promptly given along with a shrug. "And no one is innocent, Muffin. You should know that by now."

"Be that as it may, what was their horrible crime that you found deserving of a cursing.. in the midst of a werewolf attack?" Angel was not pleased about this, therefore Wesley is not, and seeks answers. There's a look of well restrained anger on Wes's face in response to the flippant attitude Seth is displaying. "What did you? What was the curse, I will fix it. You show no remorse for what you have done, so demanding or asking you reverse it shall be pointless."

"You should be more optimistic. Without their eyes, they wouldn't have been forced to watch as they were devoured alive or savaged by the werewolf." Seth rolls his shoulders a little and readjusts the package in his arm, letting the end of his cane drop until it taps back down against the sidewalk. He's not terribly worried about Wesley. Wesley is a pansy. "This is going to sound silly. But the woman hit my leg. The bad one." This deserves emphasis because it was a terrible, terrible crime. "She could've watched where she was going, don't you think?"

Unexpectedly and with probably more speed than Seth might be prepared for, Wesley reaches to grab the cane from the man. The point of trying to take the cane isn't to cause harm, but to frighten so that perhaps he's taken seriously. "That is a pitiful excuse, pardon if I don't applaud your valour and concern for them." His expression is less than amused at Seth whinging about his bad leg getting hit. "Knowing you, you did or said something and it was deserved. If not, it was most likely an accident. Now. What curse did you use, I won't be asking again."

Wesley doesn't snatch or grab; he doesn't have it in him. Or at least that's what Seth believes until he's suddenly robbed of his cane, leaving him in a rather precarious position. Though the older man controls his expression well there's a slight widening in his eyes and tightening in his frame and jaw that suggests he's no longer fully at his ease. "I wasn't doing anything other than standing in the street, Muffin. Now give me back my cane before I take it back and make it your new boyfriend." The probability of this threat being backed up is minimal, but at least it sounds good. "They deserved it, and they're lucky they didn't catch worse from me."

The cane isn't handed over, in fact, Wesley takes a step back still holding it. It's childish yes, but it is leverage. "Why do you say they deserve it, aside from hitting your bad leg.. which I must admit, I am tempted to do." Wes switches tactics slightly to try and get a better answer or at least maybe insight as to /why/ they deserved cursing. Of all people, Wesley knows that people are not always what they seem or appear.

"I told you already," Seth snaps, exasperated by Wesley's game of keep-away. As far as leverage goes, it's an effective tactic. Walking without aid is not fun at all. "They hit my leg and it hurt. They couldn't watch where they were going when they could use the eyes they were born with, so maybe now they'll pay a little better attention." The man takes an unsteady pace in Wesley's direction to try go snatch his cane away, starting to look a bit - well. Scared. "It'll wear off eventually." Which is completely and totally untrue.

Wesley moves towards his motorbike, still carrying the cane. "I don't believe you, in that the curse will wear off. Save yourself further trouble and me the time by telling me what you used. I'll give you your cane back and call it even." It's all very reasonable in Wesley's mind you see. "I feel very sorry for you if you find this a perfectly good excuse in cursing someone's eyesight."

Seth sends Wesley a rather incredulous look as he continues his retreat, apparently having trouble with understanding the concept of the younger man being mean. Picking on cripples is not normal fare for the Good Guys. "We won't be even. You're insulting and stealing from the disabled. That is the opposite of even. You're so keen on research, school boy, so how about I tell you what letter to start looking under?"

Wesley isn't picking on cripples. He's trying to get a solid answer out of Seth! "Fine. Have it your way, I'm tired of you deliberately wasting my time. I'll see to their condition myself, no thanks to you." Still holding onto the cane, he climbs back into his motorbike.

But. But. "Damn it all, Muffin!" The warlock limps rather hastily towards the motorcycle, grimacing as his bad leg twists a bit with the relatively speedy movement. He doesn't look happy at all, no sir. "It was an Olmec blinding curse, alright? Happy? Now give me my cane before I curse you."

Wesley smiles ever so pleasantly as he finally gets an answer out of Seth. "Thank you, now was that so difficult?" He then extends the cane out for Seth to take, "Don't hurt yourself. You might want to try a soak in hot salt water. Lin Sister Herbal has excellent blends for sore limbs."

The amount of venom in Seth's stare as he grabs his cane could very well cause Wesley to pickle right on the spot if such a thing were possible. "That place is run by a cat-thieving plant hag. She can keep her accursed herbs, and you can feel free to watch your back." Because stealing a crippled man's cane is going Over The Line. "I hope your darling werewolf kills the lot of you."

"That's just a little uncalled for," Wesley states without taking any offense. He straps on his helmet without taking his eyes off of Seth. "I will presume for now that you are feeling humiliated and suffering a blow to your ego, and that is the reasoning behind such harsh words. Do take care, because I would not wish a fate so harsh on those I dislike."

Wesley is just lucky that Seth isn't the type to hit without the hit-ee having his back turned, so instead of being clocked with a heavy cane all the ex-Watcher suffers is a continued unpleasant look. "How very kind of you. Maybe you'll be run over by a Mack truck." With that the warlock starts shuffling away, gloomy and irritated.

"Do cheer up. You're too young for frown lines," Wesley says before firing up the engine and rumbling off back in the direction of the hotel. One thing down, now to move onto reversing the curse.

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