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@queenseer-blog-blog
queenseer replied to your post:What would you say to your 16 year old self?
That’s good advice.
Yeah, I think 16 year old me would have appreciated it at the time.
Probably. I mean, I know I would have. Still, 16-year-old you handled herself pretty admirably, all things considered.
You're so adorable.
You’re not wrong.
Tonsil Hockey? Really?
And you were also one of like three people who actually had high school nemesises. And I think both the others were actually evil. And O’Toole was a zombie.
What? Does that not accurately describe what our 17-year-old selves used to get up to in the janitor's closet?
One of the drawbacks of being insanely popular, I'm afraid.
...Wait a minute. Jack O'Toole? I haven't thought about him in, like, forever. God, he was a jerk! I wonder whatever happened to him?
queenseer replied to your post: Your 15 year old self is thrown into the future, to now, and meets you. What would s/he think of you? What would they say?
I hope someone asks me this question, because 15-year-old Cordelia Chase would totally write, “WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?!?” across your forehead in Sharpie. And then, she’d kick /both/ our asses.
My forehead isn’t big enough to write all that, she may have to choose a different victim. And she wouldn’t kick our asses, that might scuff her shoes.
Angel's forehead may be bigger, but yours is still prime real estate. Besides, there can be no other victim. As I recall, 17-year-old you was the only high school nemesis-cum-lameoid tweako boyfriend I ever played tonsil hockey with, so...
You're right about the shoes, though. 15-year-old me would sooner die than ruin a pair of Jimmy Choos.
[pm] That’s entirely true. They tend to just pass you on to someone who does know what they’re talking about, and even then you’re not guaranteed success. And they may know the anatomy, Cordelia, doesn’t necessarily mean they know how best to handle it.
You’re still at Noseferatu? God, that must be getting exhausting; the crowd aren’t exactly an enjoyable one are they? And well, considering the demon related riots going on throughout the city, I’d say the other shoe may have dropped a little, but in my experience there can often be something ever so slightly worse around the corner. Annoyingly. So maybe you’re wise to be wary?
I’m fine, I had a demon attack at my house the other night, but Xander started working his joinery magic yesterday and Charlotte keeps bringing me interior design plans. Just wish we could put a quick, definite end to all these demons attacking.. I feel if we don’t do something soon there’s going to be nothing of London left.
[pm] Good point. Just because you've got the tools doesn't mean you can go all Harry Homemaker and build me a 4,000 square foot villa, complete with Calamander wood flooring and one of those treadmill jacuzzis.
Believe it or not. So far, I've come up with jack and squat. I mean, I know there's an incinerator in the back somewhere, but I'm not sure if it was used to dispose of Salem's body. Sorry for being extra-special grim, but I'm of belief that's she's 100% D-E-A-D. It sucks, but we don't have any evidence proving otherwise, so... yeah. I think my time at Nosferatu has come to an end.
A demon? What kind? I know there's been some seriously bad juju with the Brachens recently, but I didn't think they were attacking Council members. Are you all right?
[pm] Slow down, Road Runner! I don’t even know if I have feelings. I have to think about it first.
[pm] Don't think, feel. That's why they're called feelings, not thinkings.
[pm] I guess you did say that was all you would say. You just said it twice.
No, but I’ll start.
[pm] I'm a woman of my word.
Seriously, though, that's all I ask. It's been a long time since I've seen you this happy. Same goes for Fred. I think you two could have something really special together.
queenseer replied to your post:"Well, I’d suggest exercises for your shoulder,…
[pm] Pfft! What do doctors know, anyway? A doctor pronounced me dead, so… yeah. Not exactly big on trusting the MD crowd. If I were you, I’d just ask Buffy for some exercises. Girl may be a walking bruise, but she knows how to work out safely.
[pm] Yes, but weren’t you dead at the time? Yes, you’re right; I don’t really like doctors at the best of times…unless they’re attractive. And GPs in my experience are all but useless- you’re always better off with a nurse.
It’s the not first time I’ve dislocated my shoulder though so I’ll probably just stick to the usual exercises I’ve done before.
How are you anyway?
[pm] They're so pretentious. And half the time, they don't even know what they're talking about. Not gonna lie, though: I wouldn't kick a hot doctor out of bed. I mean, they do know basic anatomy, at the very least.
Sounds like a safe bet. Tried and true.
I'm all right. Better than I was a few weeks ago, anyway. Still working at Nosferatu. I just feel like... I don't know. I've been sleeping soundly lately, and that gives me a major case of the weirds. It feels like I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop, if you know what I mean. How about you?
[pm] Well I guess if I ever want to know, I’ll talk to her about it.
[pm] You guys would be great together. That's all I'm gonna say.
...Also, have you ever thought about how great you guys would be together?
[pm] I see where you’re going. Really. It’s just—I don’t know. I haven’t thought it out yet. I’m almost scared to even think of thinking about it.
[pm] Refusing to acknowledge your lovey-dovey feelings? Oh, sweetie, you've got it bad. From one friend faller-in-lover to another, you should just tell Oz how you feel. Chances are, he's got a crush on you, too. I mean, in my experience, those things are rarely one-sided, especially when they involve friends. Or enemies, but that's a whole nother story.
[pm] If she did think so, don’t you think she’d tell me?
[pm] This is Fred we're talking about. You know, Little Miss I-had-a-big-fat-Molly-Ringwald-crush-on-Angel-for-like-ever-but-never-bothered-to-tell-him? She's really shy, Oz. There's no way she'd come right out and say that she 'likes you' likes you.
queenseer replied to your post:Who the fuck are you?
Hostility’s kind of their thing. That, and sexual harassment.
Man, they need to lighten up.
Name’s Ivan. May I ask whom I have the pleasure of typing with?
Tell me about it.
Nice to meet you, Ivan. I'm Cordelia. Cordelia Chase. Are you new to London, or have you just been hiding?
[pm] Or get slimed.
Until I hear so from her, I’m gonna go with my theory.
[pm] Probably both.
What if I told you she's been dropping anvil-sized hints that she's got the hots for you?
[pm] Haven’t seen any cameras. I know I can. Don’t think Fred’s into me anyway, so it’s a moot point.
[pm] One of these days, Suzanne Somers is gonna leap out of the bushes, shove a mic in your face, and yell, "Smile! You're on Candid Camera." It's the only explanation for the freak-a-palooza we've been living these past ten years.
Oh, Oz. You're, like, totally clueless, aren't you? Fred is the opposite of not into you.
[pm] This isn’t a TV show, Cordelia. And we’re not in Lust City. She kissed me so we could get in and then the siren I saw kind of looked like her. Not a big deal.
[pm] Isn't it? Look, Oz, I know you're not big on syllables, let alone words, but you can talk to me. I've been there, done that, remember?
