Bo' Thomas
Last night had been an evening trapped in the lighted oasis of the gas station where Bo had received the curious pleasure of meeting Jack and his Boots, it had been the highlight of the evening [baring Steve tripping over the chip display] and she was glad to be free of that responsibility tonight. Tonight she was out on the town, with nowhere to go and every street a possibility. The obvious place to start is the Art's district, with its wild parties and libertarian views one could be sure that if anywhere in the city an adventure was waiting to happen...it was there.
So far it had been a let down, that new exhibit slash art school was closed, something to do with the artist smashing their head of a pottery wheel, and her back upplan to catch up with a friend had proven ineffective as well, as said friend had to cancel. But there was always plan C through ZZ5..and Bo wasn't going to let some minor issues get in the way.
Dressed sharply in a pair of bright red skinny jeans [with a targeting reticle on one butt pocket] and a corset style top [not a real one mind..those things are for special occasions] she moved along the street, energy filling every step, every movement a vibrant act of life and vitality.
Flood
In a different era he might've been considered an anachronism in that three piece suit. But these days the love of the retro has bled into the antique and the classic. Styles are coming back, and even if they weren't, the upper class never deigned to stoop to the fashion of the proletariat. He is surely of that highest crust.
So the fact his thin grey linen suit is expertly tailored to hug his towering form isn't that much out of the ordinary. He wears a fedor, a similar grey, but with black stripes cutting the brighter color to ribbons. Despite the warm summer weather, his forehead is devoid of a drop of sweat, pale as yule marble, and even under the fedora tipped openly (opening up his face and making him approachable) to perch on the back of his crown, you can tell his hair is impeccable combed back with the slightest intentional ruffle to its swoop. Rakish.
But he is no rake, no rogue, his countenance bears out, instead his personality seems inviting. It promises many things. A dark dynamo quietly building momentum as he powers headlong into the night, his blood (there is no other color that would be more apt) red tie a thin knot, Devil-may-care with the button beneath that noose undone and his cuffs the same.
The dead man's own wingtip shoes happen to be applauding him in his quickening gait as pale jade eyes look around the artsy fartsy neighborhood curiously. Inquisitively. He is content to enjoy it all, like he knows some secret, some lost covenant he is exploiting or some hidden truth that he grasps, and with it the world in the other hand by the balls. It's in the smirk that doesn't threaten, the eyes that see and see through, the rhythm of his step as if this world is an oyster shucked and waiting to be slurped down.
The man radiates the air of control can foster a want in others. A want to be led. A want to be shown the way to such heights. A want, plain and simple. Growing in its power, its agency, its understanding and ability to reach out and...
And touch. Cultivate. Goad and reward to the goaded and rewarded heart's content. It is that force of personality. It promises vices and yearnings for power indulged. If this man-thing is dead, the tombstone above it is expertly carved, and coffin in the open grave has its door wide open and inviting.
It's the corset that catches his attention. He looks at Bo' like she reminds him of someone or something. Like he's trying to place her face. It is an opening, that look, that comes with words next. "Where are you headed? If I may be so bold as to ask," he has already been so bold and doesn't seem even a touch apologetic or hesitant about the sudden interaction with a stranger.
Samantha
It's Samantha's third night in Denver. Such may be evident in the careful way she walks along its streets, a light charcoal rain jacket buttoned up the front, terminating at the knees and giving no evidence of any further clothing worn beneath. Her hair done up in a French twist, she walks slowly, pensively, moving with the flow of traffic. Not trying to stand out, though her striking beauty draws eyes regardless; cheekbones that are almost harsh, liquid eyes like drops about to fall from the tip of a leaf, lustrous skin like ashen teak wood. Lithe, tall, and elegant, she walks down the street.
She slows - stops. Across the street, half a block down. A man. Debonair, affable, so charming that he seems luminous compared to the others that walk about him. Some instinct, predatory, or perhaps simply keyed into survival, causes her to fade ever so slightly into the doorway by her side, shadowed and empty.
Bo' Thomas
It was like a side swipe, one minute your driving along all casual with your pals, listening to the tunes and chatting about that bitch Marcy when all of a sudden BAM! some crazy mother in a fancy town car [a nice grey town car] side swipes you and everything goes crazy. Thats how Bo feels as shes moving along at a comfortable, confident clip, the chunky boots she wore carrying her along and adding an inch or two to the womans rather average five foot six inches.
She almost skitters to the side, managing to pull up and swing around as Flood tries to make conversation with her and she laughs. "Whoa there big pappa gucci. You don't just surprise a girl like that, specially not when their on an obvious mission to nowhere and everywhere." She shook her head, and the locks of her hair, black interlaced with tiny stripes of grey [falls or extensions most likely] swung about framing her face.
She was a pretty little thing with those big green eyes and expressive features, she was no classic beauty like the woman down the street in her rain jacket...but she knew how to make do.
"I think the bigger question." She said waving a hand about before her as if to slowly pin point flood himself. "Is where did you get that suit and do they have it in womens?"
Flood
[ Perception + Alertness 'cause hey Flood might want to meet you! Difficulty +1 because he's talking to soemone. Feel free to resist with Manipulation or Dexterity + Stealth if you like. ]
Dice: 5 d10 TN7 (1, 2, 5, 6, 6) ( fail )
Flood
[ Or no need to resist. Haha. ]
Flood
One of the denizens of Santa Fe's streets fades into the shadows that are usually his purview, but Samantha is one amidst the many enjoying its venues and vistas, enough so that Flood remains engrossed in the conversation he begins with the young woman, missing her entirely.
Flood's u-turn into that conversation had been a bit more graceful and precise, but perhaps only because he is the one that started it with his sudden question as to the direction her feet are going. "My tailor, Amadeo, was quite handy. I'm sure he could have handled a woman's cut. It's a pity he has passed. While his heart might not've been able to take it, I'm sure he would have gotten one last thrill taking your measurements, Miss..."
His hand doesn't come out to shake hers, no, but instead it folds into the other before him as he leans forward inquisitively. Hoping she will give her name.
Samantha
Samantha leans her shoulder gently against the brickwork, not really taking her weight off her feet but rather simply cloaking herself more intimately with the shadows. She frowns, and then wipes the expression from her face as soon as she's aware she's doing it. Why the sudden step aside? Even now, as she regards the pair, she can't quite place it. Normally, this man would be the definition of her preferred prey; he's young, clearly wealthy, well dressed, arrogant enough to stop a stranger in the street... yet he leaves her cold.
So Samantha waits a moment longer, trying to get a sense of his character, his type, trying to figure out why she's not drawn to him - at least, not in the manner she might normally expect of herself.
Bo' Thomas
The young woman, so full of life and energy chuckles a bit as she shook her head and put her hands upon her hips in an 'oohh really' sort of way. This well tailored man seemed to be entertaining her at the very least, if the happy and just a little bit mischievous smile upon her face had anything to say about it. "Well haven't you just cornered the market on all the silver spoons in town." She chided with a raise of a brow and the shift of her weight to one leg.
"Well if you really gotta know, I'm called Bo." She said with a quick bob of her head. For all her energy and animation there was an analytical, intelligent look in those big green eyes. The sort of look that said watch out! I'm a pretty smile and more then that.
"And whats your name Sir tailored by Amadeo?"
Flood
"Daniel, Daniel Flood," he replies, as if he doesn't care the style he gives it mimics a certain secret agent in Her Majesty's service.
"And I hope Amadeo isn't turning in his grave knowing I'm still traipsing around in these old rags. But I'm a loyal customer." He finally smiles back, a gesture that spreads onto his face smooth as butter, and it's as if youthful laughter had leeched some of that toothy white into his visage.
"As for silver spoons and wherever they might be stuck, I find a sharp knife of any metal is the preferred utensil for cornering a market," he counters her earlier implication.
"Bo? Bo," the second time like he can accept the woman has such a name, but then he continues, "Would that happen to be short for something?"
Bo' Thomas
The fancy dandy of a man in his fine suit and hat has held onto this conversation, something which seems to intrigue the small yet powerful woman who stood before him. She didn't seem to have an issue having to crane her gaze all the way up to meet his eyes, even though there was almost a foot worth of difference between their respective heights, and when he asks if Bo was short form for something she turned her head to the side with a 'wouldn't you like to know' look and said.
"Sure does big D, but that doesn't mean your gonna find out now does it?" That mischievousness in that smile comes to the forefront now as she took a bold step towards the man, still leaving space, but obviously unafraid [oh how she should be]
"If were talking utensils, well I just gotta say my preference is the fork, spoons are fancy and knives are handy but you'll never eat well without a fork." She said patting her tummy.
"Speaking of which, you know any decent places to grab a quick bite around here Dan? All the adventuring so far has left me with a need to feed."
Flood
The woman calls her Dan and he corrects her. "Daniel. Maybe one day you'll find out the nickname I prefer, but Dan isn't it," but he doesn't dwell on his.
"You would be surprised. I once had a hound that could eat very well without a fork. And without a knife, it would be quite a mouthful, should one bite off more than one can chew," the smile not fading now that it is there. It is genuine in that it is amused and he has become swept up both in the patterns of her speech he can understand and the mannerisms he seems surprised at.
He straightens at her question, his head craning up and down the street, and as he narrows his eyes it's like he's shaking his head in admission even as he looks for someplace to sit down and get the woman some nourishment. Someplace to keep her talking and find out more. "Adventure? Is that what you're after? Oh, if I'd only met you sooner," and then, he nods down the street.
"Shall we?" Initiating a journey for find a dining establishment for her.
Bo' Thomas
[Per+Emp. I know your name but your still a stranger]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 3, 4, 5, 8) ( success x 1 )
Flood
[ Manipulation + Subterfuge. Really, I'm just very friendly. And trustworthy. You could even bring me home to your parents. ]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (2, 3, 3, 4, 8, 9, 10) ( success x 3 )
Bo' Thomas
One might expect the young woman to just start off without a thought. To be carried on by her own unstoppable momentum. But there is still a brain that pretty little head of her's and she uses it for a split second, she surveys the man before her and considers what she knows, what she feels. Some folks you walk off into the sunset with, arm in arm...others you ran screaming from, looking for the sharpest object you could find along the way.
But this man seemed alright, despite his charm and glib debonair attitude and what was surely a very copious collection of silver spoons [where they are we wont say] he seemed trustworthy. He initiated the journey, asking her if they shall begin looking for food, and with a brief and slightly exaggerated tone of aristocracy she replied. "Why certainly Sir, do lead the way."
The tone is dropped in the next second as she starts forward a light bit of laughter rolling from her lips as she moved with him, and in no way being led, if it was going to be a journey, or an adventure..she'd be there at the front.
"Big D I am after EVERYTHING." She said with absolute certainty. "Adventure is just one of the very best side effects of being after something as important as everything." Her hands moved as she talked, gesturing to herself and to the world at large. "When you only have a measly hundred years can you really expect to try for anything less? I mean..you practically owe it to yourself to try."
Flood
"Daniel," he corrects again, this time a bit more firm. Again he stick the jab of his tone, though, and then moves on gracefully to the next as she begins to elaborate on her lifelong goal of everything.
"One might argue that, in seeking everything, there are doors that might end up shut, leaving your options narrowed increasingly. Sometimes once a path, an adventure, or a journey begins, you must leave other possibilities behind. Isn't that stifling?" He speaks eloquently, and there is a certain amount of finesse in his voice, the way he poses his questions in an academic way, talking in abstracts.
"That is a dreadfully short amount of time when faces with the prospect of eternity and the void at its end, isn't it? Are you a religious person, Bo?" Also relating them to the realities of their conversation, he comes back to the (generous) limit she's put on her own lifespan. Like he has spent some time considering the existential stupor that could result in such eternity, whether it is considered constricting or expansive.
Bo' Thomas
The man reaffirms his name, expecting her to use the full extent of its syllabic construction, and the young woman can't help but to roll her eyes and lets out a gentle huff. "Lifes to short for full names...Daniel, but if you insist, though its all on you if I keel over cause of it." They move down the street, Flood with his finesse and Bo with barely a hint of the same, its made up though, with pure enthusiasm.
Flood brings the conversation to a new level, injecting philosophy and religion, two topics that tend to make most people uncomfortable "Wow you just love bringing out the great unmentionables don't Daniel?" She says with a laugh, seemingly un-perturbed.
"Like I said, the goal is everything, but you take what you get. If you can't ram that door back open, or jimmy it..you move on. The next doors bound to be just as full of coolness and rainbows. I simply refuse to limit myself based on preconceptions or the limits of my own mind."
She turns then, looking at Daniel as she walked along with her back to the world as she regarded him, apparently expecting him to warn her of anything that might pop up and get in her way.
"Religion and me are like fire and oil." She said making an explosion sound with her mouth as she let her hands expand like a fireball. "Explosive. I mean don't get me wrong, the stories are cool and the lessons worthwhile...sometimes, but the whole worshipping invisible beings? Nah ah."
Two fingers cross through the air as she continues her precarious trajectory. "Time's time, when its over its over, I'm not looking for some big all seeing guy in a white moo-moo to give an extra continue."
Samantha
The pair begin to move down the street in her direction. Samantha taps at her chin, hovering on the edge of indecision, and then steps forward as they pass her on the other side of the street, crossing behind them and turning to fall in step, perhaps ten feet behind.
Flood
"One might argue a being is not invisible if its creations are all around you. But I'm not one to put fire to oil, when there's so much to be seen while they're separate. Perhaps another time, we'll tempt fate with an explosion." And he moves on again, happy with having gotten her talking on the subject, and also with the fact she'd finally deigned to use the right name for the dead man before her.
"Some doors don't open to... Rainbows and gold-paved roads, wouldn't you agree? And sometimes you don't know until they're opened. Some open to darkness. And some doors shouldn't be opened. Some doors, once opened, can't be shut," as he takes the metaphor and takes it for the proverbial run.
They continue down the street and the other people seem content to veer out of her way, like though she's moving, her daredevil feat is a rock in the stream they know to flow around. Some only look up at the last moment, from their mobile phones, but they too manage to dodge out of the way.
Flood seems content to let her continue this way, not knowing or caring where she's going, trusting in him.
The trust pays off. She gets to the curb, steep and plunging into the evening's sparse, but no less dangerous traffic (one truck or even VW buggy as bad as two dozen), and he holds out a hand to grab hers and stop her from careening into it.
[ Perception + Alertness now that they are being tailed. Adding to difficulty again because he's apparently babysitting. ;) ]
Dice: 5 d10 TN7 (2, 4, 10, 10, 10) ( success x 3 )
Samantha
[Dex + Stealth to maintain covertness]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (2, 3, 4, 8, 8) ( success x 2 )
Bo' Thomas
[Per+Alert not adding cause well..shes facing backwards]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (4, 5, 6, 8, 10) ( success x 3 )
Samantha
Samantha is not good at blending in with the crowd. There's something dominating to her appearance, almost regal; she moves as if through a crowd of admirers, her chin slightly raised, her forward movement almost the clipped walk of a runway model. Hands in the pockets of her rain jacket, the collar flared, she matches the pace of the pair before her.
Bo' Thomas
The brilliant and beautiful woman in a raincoat slides in behind them in a smooth and practiced way that to most, would be quite impressive. Bo thinks it is, but its lessened by the fact that those big green eyes of her's picks up on the tail quite quickly, but she does not immediately divulge the fact that it was there. It is only in the eyes that Sam might notice that shes been pegged by the smaller [warmer] woman ahead of her. But Bo turns her attention to Flood and gives him a cunning little smile.
"I think whatever's beyond the door is a simple matter of perspective Big Daniel, it can be good or bad or heeby jeeby creeps and sleezy. But what matters is you take those cards and you win big regardless!" She mashes up her sayings in this moment, but it doesnt seem to out of place for her, as if taking things and making something else entirely from them is something she was born to do.
"Like I said, you can't let preconceptions or limits stop you from poppin those doors open anyways! If you let a little fear get in the way you'd be stuck in your closet with the broom and an old issue of cosmo from here till dust, and well..that...ain't me."
The curb arrives at that moment and to her own credit...Bo stops, the extended hand is given a sideways hi five instead and she laughs as she does so. "Your sweet, takes more then a curb to ruin my day."
Flood
That isn't her. His eyebrows go up just a bit, in pleasant surprise, as she brings perspective into the discussion. Without much context as to what the man that is now escorting her and being escorted by her down the street is hinting at, but it is impressive nonetheless.
He senses it, maybe he hears that click of heels, maybe as she leaves the shadows the artificial lighting of Santa Fe's thoroughfares now throw her own dark silhouette into his down that ten or so paces down the sidewalk, but he knows. He does not turn around to look just yet, as Bo stops, only looks down at his hand once she's slapped it out of the way with another girlish (perhaps not, but to Flood everything about her seems girlish, once again context and perspective) chuckle.
"Fear. A dangerous thing. Both in excess or deficiency depending on the circumstance," and as he joins her, hands still folded before him, just at his waist, he turns a bit, like he's simply waiting alongside at the corner for the light to change and is again looking around, taking in the surroundings.
Cat and mouse. But his eyes eventually come to the beautiful woman that had been trailing them, and he smiles at her, casually, like it's only now has he noticed her. Like it's her beauty and not the fact she's shadowing them that draws his eyes. In fact he looks dumbfounded, drawn, enthralled by the intricacies of her face.
"What a busy streetcorner. And how lucky I am to stand upon it," looking back to Bo, as if to signal he hasn't completely forgotten about her. "At the risk of making this a threesome," no crude tonality to the word, at least not implicit, he gives Samantha a nod and a smile.
[ Manipulation + Subterfuge. Oh, my, lucky me, all these beautiful women just happening to be around me. I didn't notice you or nothin'. ]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 3, 6, 6, 7, 10) ( success x 4 )
Samantha
Samantha catches Bo's eyes as the woman looks past Flood at her, and holds them for but a moment before Bo continues speaking to her friend. She slows, stops. Drifts closer, perhaps the length of an outstretched dead man between them. At which point Flood does his casual turn, and offers his praise to the air.
Samantha smiles. It's a cold expression; there's no human warmth to it, no casual mix of the usual positive and hopeful emotions. Instead, it's a drawing back of the lips which gives a brief glimpse of her teeth, a look that indicates more pleasure and amusement that casual human joy.
"There is bad luck as well as good," she says, and her voice is low, tinged with a light accent - French perhaps. "How to know which of the two you are?"
Bo' Thomas
"Like that big nasty Will Smith movie says, Fear is in the mind, you can chose to fear, or fear not. Simply acknowledge the danger!" She declares as she balances upon the curbs edge with her arms in the air. She doesn't seem to overly care if Flood has forgotten her or not, she'd make her own fun..of that he can likely be certain.
And then Sam is joining the conversation at last, pulling herself up closer once she realized that Bo had her scent [or sight]. She spoke of luck and Bo grinned ear to ear as she repressed a laugh and strode from her curbs edge and half leaned around, half stepped past Flood to speak in a conspiratorial tone, a hand brought up as if to shield her words from Daniels ears, even though it would be impossible for him to miss them.
"With this guys collections of silver spoons? Honey he's gotta be just a little bit of both and a whole lot of his way." She grins and steps around Flood entirely then stepping up to the taller, prettier woman without a care in the world.
"I'm Bo. you got a name there triple B?" She asked with plenty of confidence, her words might make little sense...but shes got that confidence in spades.
Flood
Samantha makes her entry into the conversation with a bombshell of a question.
"There are. Oh, how?!" Much more of an exclamation than an interrogatory. "We were just speaking of opening doors to find out what's on their other side. Where they lead. And look where my front door has taken me."
"And, how?" This time, beginning his answer, more staid.
"It seems that my choices are to stay on this corner, or stay in the company of these two specimens, and see which is the luckier, and then find out by fate if that luck is a benevolent or malevolent curse." And then he regards Bo again. "Though we have to leave room for free will. Don't we?" And then, his gaze moves toward Samantha. As if she is also welcome to answer the question.
Samantha
Samantha's gaze remains locked on Flood, even as Bo introduces herself and addresses her.
"I do have a name, yes." Said almost absently. Her face undergoes a series of minor, rapid transformations as she studies Flood. At first perhaps a flicker of curiosity that turns in an almost imperceptible flash of alarm, which then smooths away into casual detachment.
"As for his silver spoons... I would have to agree." This is said almost distractedly. "Plenty of both good and bad fortune has come his way. Though I'm sure he's dispensed mostly bad fortune to others. That would be his nature."
She steps up to Flood then, casually, slowly, moving past Bo to reach out and finger the lapel of his jacket - if he doesn't move away - in the same motion one might indicate money with your fingers. Then she pats his lapel, and steps back again.
"Free will. An interesting idea for you of all people to promulgate."
Bo' Thomas
It was a hard snub, Bo is..for the vast majority, ignored save for a few specific words. the woman in her raincoat obviously had other things on her mind, other targets on their mind, and by the movement, the look, and the very tone of her words it was obvious that the person she was interested in....was Daniel.
Bo's brow's raised ever so briefly, her eyes wide in surprise before they settled once more and she raised her hands about her and turned them back and forth, like some kind of imitation of a sports fan cheering. "Lemme here it for sisterhood. rah rah whateva." She grins and steps aside, letting her arms flow freely as she actually reached out and took ahold of the light post and spun around it lazily.
"Ain't nothin but free will Big Daniel." She said languidly. "As triple B demonstrates right here...right now." She grins that mischievous grin and continues to move about the street corner, looking this way and that. "3...2....1....Draamma."
Flood
The woman begins to make a series of leaps about his past and the health of his soul, even including its agency on the world around him and the people who populate it. None of it seems to unsettle Flood. Not so much that he can't still manage to smile in amusement at Bo's antics. Her exuberant youth on such display, like she might break into song whether it begins raining or not.
"As we were just saying, Bo. Chant it: It's all a matter of perspective," he responds to Samantha, punctuated with the raising of his hand. Precise fingers do not ball or even come together. They instead pet, because itt isn't to swat away hers. He doesn't withdraw. In fact it is to gently press her hand to his chest, that unmoving cavity that refuses to even beat with a living heart.
"I wonder, is this a cold," as chilled as his hand is, should she let his touch hers, "reading that you're doing, guarding your name as you unearth your spun truths and truisms about others? Don't we all hurt? Aren't we all hurt?" Rhetorical, before he looks to the woman again. Eyes finding hers, looking for any hint of those earlier flickers he mar or may not have missed. "Or have we met? Perhaps in a past life?"
Samantha
Samantha doesn't withdraw her hand - indeed, she lets his cold one envelop hers, and for a moment simply stands there, hand on his chest. He asks his questions in turn, and then she pulls her hand free, draws a small card from her jacket, tucks it in his breast pocket, and steps back.
"Have we met? I think not. But perhaps we may meet again."
Samantha turns to Bo then, and gives her a gracious smile. "My apologies for interrupting. I'll leave you two to your diversions." So saying, she turns, and begins to stride away down the sidewalk.
Bo' Thomas
"In the mirror or, on the moon, from your heart or the red assed baboon, its all a matter of, per-spec-tive." It's said in a sing song voice, the young woman speaking almost more to herself then to anyone else but her head bobs as she does so, a little jump stepping accounting for a dance as she speaks.
But then its back to reality, or at least to a more somber version of it and Samantha turns towards Bo and offers her apologies. Bo smiles and shrugs. "Hey ain't no biggy for me triple B, we just met. Your welcome to stick around and divert for all I care." The smile and even the tone is genuine and friendly despite the womans rather...curt methods.
But if she goes she goes, and Bo is back to looking at Flood, a raised brow like she expects some great secret to be divulged. "I think soomeone's got a crush."
Flood
"I will hope and pray that my luck will allow that happen!" He calls after, not a desperate shout, but sure words pelted deftly in her wake as the beautiful woman disappears down the sidewalk. He does not look at the card just yet. He instead turns toward Bo.
"Oh, do you think she was showing interest in me?" As if that were the more believable of the possible scenarios.
"I'm sorry for that. I hope you don't think my attention was stolen for any reason other than curiosity," he explains, though even when he finally gives an apology, it sounds more like he's saying the way things are. That she should be fine with it. That it is the only route.
"Let's continue," the light having changed once over the course of that brief interaction, and then once they again have the right of way he heads into the street. And eventually they will find a restaurant. He looks the place up and down, and then looks to her. "It has a door. I wonder what is on the other side."
Bo' Thomas
Bo's smile becomes a little bit of a smirk and she shakes her head at something all together amusing as Flood asks about the interest of the woman, but she remains silent on the fact. When he comes to his apology she does indeed note the tone, that this is this and that is that and such things are inflexible, and that has her regarding him with that analytical look once more, assaying and considering him with the brain hidden behind the bubbly exterior.
In the end she shrugs. "Dude relax, we've known each other for what...twenty minutes?" She chuckles as she swung around and prepared to move on with him, this time facing forwards. "Like what you do is any concern of mine unless it involves me directly."
They make their way along, coming to a restaurant of decent stature and claim to quality and Flood seems to look it up and down before looking at Bo, his words seeming to be expecting to draw out some particular response. Bo for her part simply does what she does. She strides towards the door with confidence and vitality and grabbed the handle. "Only one way to find out." She said looking at the door. "But I bet I know." She looked back at Flood with a moment of dramatic pause before speaking and opening the door at the same time.
"Everything." At that she hops up the step, and into the restuarant, leaving Flood to follow behind.
Flood
His hand grabs the door, holding it open as she passes through, even as she opens it for himself, as if a certain set of manners is being manifested. He follows behind and they are shown to a table in the Thai restaurant. Fast-paced electronic music is playing the background as they are - eventually - show to their seats. At least Flood is, because he takes a seat and relaxes into it, leaning back and away from a menu and glasses of ice water, neither of which he touches.
"Good. As it's no concern of yours, you won't mind if my appetite hasn't rebounded from my last meal just yet," he says, explaining his lack of attention to what is on offer. "You could call it a bit of a fast. Though it doesn't seem to have any end in sight."
[ Manipulation + Subterfuge. Naw, he doesn't eat food. Weirdo. ]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (2, 8, 9, 9, 10, 10, 10) ( success x 6 )
Bo' Thomas
[Per+Empathy just cause]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (5, 5, 5, 8, 9) ( success x 2 )
Bo' Thomas
It was traditional values VS the whirlwind of Bo, whatever it was she stood for. Old VS bleeding edge new, Bo didn't seem bothered by Floods need to hold the door, though she does raise a rather speculative brow when he speaks of not desiring to eat. She looked at their table, at the water and the menu that she had already scooped up and was perusing, but Flood seemed patently ready to ignore.
"Well...alright, I mean It'll be a teensy bit weird having you watch me eat and all. But your call amigo." She says as she picks up the water and takes a sip, despite her energy and apparent 'lack' of traditional values she drinks carefully, not at all interested in spilling the water on herself, or the table.
"So a fast huh? You doing the 30 hour famine extended edition? Or is it something a little more personal?" She inquires as she peruses the menu, its brought up to her face so that only her eyes appear overtop of it, occasionally looking over at the man as she talks.
Flood
"Exceptionally personal," he answers, and the chair tips back just a hair, as he leans a bit further away, though rocks right back forward a moment later. "I have a very particular palate. Silver spoons and all that must have spoiled me rotten."
It is almost like watching a show, for Flood, the way his eyes narrow on her. Not even as predatory as one might assume, instead perturbed and interested in this avatar of a new age. "Triple B. Would you explain that?"
Nobody
[Hmm. Let's see. Mask?]
Dice: 8 d10 TN7 (2, 3, 3, 4, 6, 7, 8, 9) ( success x 3 )
Bo' Thomas
She makes her selections, a few things from a variety of the menu's categories, one wonders if she even really knows what shes getting, maybe she was the sort who was really into Thai, or maybe this was a brand new experience, it was impossible to tell. He asked for an explanation of her chosen name for the woman who had joined, and left their little party in such a hurry and she laughed as she let the menu go, to the waiter.
"Bodacious, Buxom and Brilliant." She says as she leans forward, resting her arms on the table as she explained the title to the man. Her head slid to the side as she continued. "Thoouugh after that little moment I am tempted to switch the last B for a big ol bitch. But I think I'll reserve that judgement for another time." She taps her hands down on the table as if to conclude that matter and let them fold over one another.
"So other then collecting silver spoons and a bevy of brainy beauties, just what do you do with your pretty self all the time eh Daniel boy?" She inquires with a tilt of her head, her neck briefly exposed from beneath that curtain of hair.
"Dentist? Televangelist, Lion Tamer? De facto leader of an independent south american state?"
Nobody
[But which one? Odds, the one Bo's met. Evens, the one Flood's dealt with. Decisions!]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (9) ( success x 1 )
Flood
Her list of possible professions for the dead man sitting across from his leads to the kind of out loud laugh that Flood has not made for some time. It isn't a chuckle, it isn't a bellow or yawp, but instead something more controlled. But it's there, and it ends with that smile she'd managed to conjure on his face just a bit broader. He crosses his legs as he leans back from the table, turning his chair turned enough to allow it, and folds his hands again over his lap.
"Ah, if only I'd stuck to my school work, as my dear ol' mother had hoped. No. None of the above. I'm more of an industrialist. An entrepreneur. The world needs many things to keep turning as it does. They are provided for and I am allowed to exist comfortably in the process," he finishes.
It may be the most forthcoming he has been. Again, like the laugh, this is all rare. But he seems to put it on like an old hat, though for once it is genuine. It slips into his lies like a rising tide, and he doesn't even notice it, somehow. He doesn't have to remind himself that he's dead, for once, even faced with a diametric opposite in the form of a living young woman who has brought this over him.
"And you. Tell me a little about yourself, Bo, while we wait for your meal to arrive," he's politely waved off the server when she'd asked what he wanted.
Bo' Thomas
Bo listens as she sits there, her arms folded upon herself, her body leaning forward so that her head was more over the table then it was her lap. When she turned her head to the side now and again it almost looked like she might lay down and nap on the table cloth, but in the same instance one might think it absurd, when does a woman with this much vitality ever need to nap?
He speaks of being an entrepreneur of providing things that others need, and that has her sitting up and wagging her shoulders back and forth. "Ooohh well then, that either makes you a tooth paste salesman or a black market kingpin, mayyybe a high end doll maker?" She raises a brow in gest before the topic turns towards her, the man inquiring as to what precisely she does.
She sits back then with a sigh and taps her hands on the table. "Weeelp, let me tell you Sir, I am a very important lady, I spend my evenings working for the public in fuel distribution and services, keeping the wheels of the city in motion you see." She says holding up a finger as if that was singularly important before she chuckled wryly. "Which is to say I am currently a very glamorous but common gas station attendant."
She watched him for a moment before continuing. "Beyond that I am a student par excellance, I'm a regular attendee of the University of Colorado, Denver campus of course, working my way to find...well...everything." That last work is said with a laugh, but the tone seemed to imply that perhaps, she didn't really know what she was doing at that place of higher learning.
Flood
"Nothing so glamorous, I'm afraid. If I ever was a kingpin, I've been knocked down far too many times to remember it," he answers first. She begins telling him about herself, and he nods along with her first interpretation, looking like he might ask her a question about it before she clarifies.
And eyebrow is quirked. Deliberately. A conversation tick. Not an accident.
"I must ask: What do your parents think of their daughter working at a gas station? I do hope that you don't work at night. But... The University of Colorado. A fine institution. It does sound as if you may have a bright future of everything ahead of you," the quirked eyebrow had fallen when she said that she was a student par excellance.
"The University was once one of my stomping grounds. At your age it's important to surround yourself with great minds and greater ideas. Challenges," he nods. "I wish I'd been able to do the same. My own education came much later."
Bo' Thomas
"Most definitely at night." She says with a nod and a mischievous smile. "Don't worry, its not just me, the operation is big enough that there is two of us. We defend ourselves against the forces of the night with Pepsi Cola and car wash tickets." her tone makes it sound like some grand battle, some epic confrontation between the forces of light [and gas] against the darkness which surrounded them.
"And my parents say don't have a say in the matter, I'm twenty one, and their back in Rifle, Colorado which is far to far away to be dictating where and with whom I work, NOT that theres a hope in hell that anyone could ever tell me what to do unless I was at least...marginally inclined." her smile became more self assured then, so certain her youth and world view, aware of, but unconcerned by the dangers posed to her.
"So the mystery is solved, your a local boy." She said with a waggle of her brows as she moved around on the chair, looking to get a bit more comfortable as they waited for the food. "And here I thought you were a man of worldly tastes and flavours, drawn from the exotic corners of the earth to the center of it all in Denver." The last word has a few hints of sarcasm, obviously knowing that if there is a center of the world..it is NOT where they were.
Flood
"No. My roots have been firmly planted. Oh, the pollen is far-flung, wild oats sown, parts unknown made known, but this will always be my home," he says, his smile fading into a lighter but more persistent expression the emotion he is feeling right now, perhaps not shared across the table, but bound to the spot by it like a tether.
"I'll have to pass by to fill my tank, and perhaps beat back the darkness with you," be brief flare of amusement at that last part. "Though what's the night but another door? Who knows, if the sun had been up, maybe I'd have missed you."
He indicates her corset. "I must admit. It's that which drew my attention. My family was one of meager means. And then my father opened a bar. He had dancers, music, song. That number you're wearing reminded me of those days. Hooked me, as it were."
Nobody
Hey, look, it's Nobody. He doesn't enter, or if he does, it isn't worth mentioning; entrances are not for nobodies, and Jack isn't fond of making them himself. He prefers to just sort of coalesce out've thin air, as if he were always there, which is occasionally at odds with his preference not to frighten or startle whoever it is he's coalescing out've thin air. Oh, Jack -- as if he might drop from a fall of flickering, twitchy light; just ease himself between a flashing neon advertisement and the weird eldritch shadows that creep across laminated restaurant menus.
Hey, look. Jack, who didn't enter, but who is now to be found sitting at a table off to the side over there with an air of a man waiting for something, his too-thick-for-this-night jacket hiked up over hunched shoulders like he's still got the hanger in there, his sleeves pulled up to reveal pale bony brawny wrists, a pair of glasses low on his long crooked nose perched awkwardly due to his big ol' ears. This isn't a face that Flood has seen, although Bo remembers it: soft-of goofy looking, the low end of average, a man whose eyes don't know whether or not they want to be cat-fur gray or rain-gray, gray or grey, the e or a make such a difference, all awkward height and vulture stoop, early 30s, that guy. Jack of Jack and Boots.
There's no water in front of him, though there's a ring of water smeared across the tabletop, as if there was a glass not too long ago and somebody took it. There's a napkin that's been folded into a very poor attempt at origami, and
most importantly
there's a lack of whoever it is he's here, waiting for, which means his eyes are -- have -- roamed. And are -- have -- lit upon why what a surprise. What a surprise! Is that the gas station girl? And what is she wearing?
And is she with...?
Bo' Thomas
"Whhat this old thing?" She asked, gesturing to the top she wore, it wasn't even off the shoulder, it covered her quite well, but it had those corset like accents, and to those not aware of more modern fashion it might well still seem a corset true. "Its not even real. Just a shirt made to look like a corset. The wonders of modern fashion science never cease to amaze afterall." She says with a gentle chuckle as she pulls at the shirt a little before resting back once again.
Its not a real corset no, but her outfit tonight is a far cry from the gas station attendant uniform Jack had met her in before, her hair is down, all black and curtain like to frame her face with hints of silver interspersed [falls of extensions to be sure] her shirt is a pale purple, and bares all the hallmarks of being a corseted shirt without being one, she wore a pare of deep red skinny jeans beneath it and her feet were shod in big chunky boots that added an inch or two to her ever so average height.
"What would REALLY get Amadeo spinning would be the fact that you aren't up on your fashion science big Daniel! He's probably weeping for your fashion soul." She happened to glance over then, and words she had been planning on uttering died on her lips as a big, energetic and thoroughly lively smile spread across her lips.
"Holy crap! Hey Jack minus Boots! Don't tell me you ditched your grade A mouser!" Yep...it wasn't quite shouted...but it was close enough. There was no doubt that she had spotted him, and what he did next was all up to him.
Flood
Flood's eyes turn over to the table where the man he hadn't noticed before (barely notices now until he...) has suddenly ripped Bo's attention from him. It piques his interest as he searches the man's face and form for qualifiers as to his reason for having so quickly won her gaze and appreciation.
And finds none.
But that only seems to interest him more.
"Oh. Hello. Didn't see you sitting there," and he looks back to Bo, standing, and pulling out an unoccupied chair at their table. "Would you care to join us?"
Nobody
[Let's see how good he is at hiding his: You? Again? Really? What're the odds? I'm totally not like '?!' MANIP + SUBT.]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 6, 6, 7, 9, 9) ( success x 5 )
Flood
[ Perception + Subterfuge. ]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 3, 4, 4, 10) ( success x 1 )
Nobody
He grins a response to Bo's exuberant greeting, a gap between his two front teeth that only seems to emphasize what a silly-looking man he is. The grin causes his eyes to crinkle at the corners, his forehead to crease, and his grey-or-gray eyes to lose some of their tarnish. His stubby lashes flicker, and if he is surprised--
He is surprised. Let's put it out there. He is surprised, and made paranoid, made into a Wondering creature, at the sight of Niccolo again next to some warm Day-belonging thing that he's so recently wandered across, but this is not the night when Cunning Jack and Secret Jack and Jack of Many Faces lets his mask slip, crack, show any bit of what he's really making of that which is before.
All this to say: he hides his reactions well. He replaces it with that grin that lights up his eyes. His silly ears jerk up, too, and he rubs his left bony wrist with the raw long-bony fingers of his right hand and says:
"But if I brought him here, they'd throw me out and he'd lord it over me for the rest of time. Hello, Bo." Flood pulls out an unoccupied chair at their table, and Jack's eyebrows hike up, he glances at Bo like he's not sure he wants to interrupt their date, but that glance means nothing: He's interrupting, unfolding and unhunching from his current table in order to join the pair, offering the dark man a neat nod. "Don'tmindifI. Hello. Bo, how would you introduce this gent?"
Nobody
ooc: Make that "Bo, how would you introduce this gent?"
Bo' Thomas
Jack moves to join her and Flood and she's grinning ear to ear as he does so. It was awesome when random encounters like this became a regular thing, it was something that helped her thrive and grow, it was like much needed sunlight for a flower yet to bloom. When he sits she gestures between the two men, standing ever so briefly.
"Jack of the house of Boot's may I introduce you to Daniel Flood, of the house of I just met him thirty minutes ago." She looked pointedly at Flood then and spoke once more. "And Big D of the House of not liking to be called Big D, this is Jack of the house of Jack, where Boots is just the cat." She finishes and flops back into her seat, squirming around briefly to get comfy, if there was a reason she changed their names in each others introduction..shes not telling.
"So what you been up to in the twenty four hours since I met you and the mouser? He finally catch something other then my Hot Rod?" She asked as she looked to Flood, this whole thing one big treat for the young woman.
Flood
[ Do I know that voice? Perception + Alertness. Difficulty 8. ]
Dice: 5 d10 TN8 (1, 3, 7, 8, 10) ( success x 2 )
Flood
Another dead and unfortunately average-with-a-hint-of-ugly man named Jack.
Daniel Flood who was Jack Spice and also Niccolo and by now who knows how many other names, his interest grows and he doesn't hide it.
But he has a bit more of a presence, Flood. His personality draws and pretends to be drawn, pretends to care about those wants and want to lead those wanting the way of their attainment.
Unlike Jack of Nobody's House, Jack of who would want him in their House, Nobody, that's who, until that voice comes, that voice that perks up his manner and mannerisms, makes it all go down a bit more smoothly, not that the last thing Flood sipped upon wasn't coppery and was smooth going down anyway.
"Jack, I knew a fellow named Jack. If it were your surname I might ask if you were related. Same cut, different jib, one might say. He seemed to like talking philosophy with strangers. Tell me about yourself, Jack. You and Boots who's just a cat. Are you on an adventure? We are, Bo and I. It's starting with Thai food, but who knows where it will go. Perhaps the otherside of the world," and speak-of-the-hot-as-a-Devil, the chili smell that arrives with her food that is arrayed on plates and in bowls on the table in front of them.
Nobody
The game is up. No it's not. Fine. The game isn't up, but it's been met. Let's say that. There's a hint of wistful-wry to the twist of This Jack's lips and the cant of This Jack's head. He won't be using cats to stalk Flood, not after this: probably for the best. They're dainty creatures, don't like water, but is the ubiquitous drowned rat a better choice? Then again, the ubiquitous drowned rat's alive: that's why people look like them. The wry disappears as Bo's introductions stretch and the wistful disappears soon after.
He rests his elbow on the table, hands hanging downward, shoulders a-hunch again, really digging into place like he's the sort of guy who relishes life, even though it still conjures up that image of a vulure, or a bear. A too-skinny bear, underfed for a bear but not for a man. His nose twitches when the food comes by and the steam dances up, up, up.
"Is that right," he says, when Flood's done and now it's his turn to answer. "Bo, you off to pirate about with this rackety looking fellow?" He rubs his nose with his index finger and middle finger, huddling a little, don't-mean-no-harm, with a smile that skirts melancholy and jest very finely indeed. "All the way to the otherside of the world? If that's true, I'm a sad man, sitting here uninvited. I didn't find any adventure last night, you see."
He's good at controlling how he speaks, is Jack. He's good at the resonance; he's good at the pacing; he's good at controlling the cadences, at being inclusive, at using the voice like a tool. Right now, it's just a tool for communication: a webbery.
"As it happens, Daniel, I enjoy a spot of philosophy too. Shouldn't come as a surprise, though. What's a Jack except the lowest face card of a deck, the bare minimum. Hell, you might say the name Jack is a job: but I like it, though there are more interesting names. Uniquer. Like..."
Hesitation. Let it just become a trail-away. Hesitates just too long.
Bo' Thomas
"Rackety can be the best sort of -ey. But hey due you wanna come I am the master at destroying third wheel syndrome, I'm like the third wheel surgeon.
" She said absently as the food arrives, the glorious, sumptuous meal that Bo had ordered is arrayed before her and what was being discussed across the table was forgotten, the others aren't eating it seemed, and though it might make Bo look a little bit like a pig, she couldn't care less. The look on her face was pure anticipatory pleasure.
"Oh you have just made me a very happy woman." She said to the server, who laughed as she moved off. Bo readied her untensils and leaned over the main plate, breathing deep of its rich and spicy flavours. "Sweet Thai where have you been all my life, get ready for one wild ride." Yes..she was talking to her food, but then given who she was sitting with...that might not seem all that strange.
In the next moment she tucks into her meal, eating voraciously, but carefully. The joy of that first bite seeming transcendant as made happy little noises. "It's like a warm hug on the inside."
Flood
Bo is eating and being Bo, which Flood is slowly discovering is a thing that is warm to watch. Not warming, because he has forgotten exactly what that means, but he finds that he can enjoy it and it becomes difficult to tear his own attention away from that, even with all this back and forth between Jack and Flood.
One might say the same about a cat and a mouse, or even a cat after it has left some dead thing for its owner. Jack had been talking Cats. But Flood isn't yet sure how deep his passions run for this show of a young woman.
Anyway, it is a difficulty, but not impossibility for him to turn his attention back to Jack.
Especially when Jack baits the hook and leaves it trawling behind, chum in the water already, blood the shark swimming in the flood can sense behind it. "Oh, many names are unique. Let's name a few. There's Bo. She won't tell me what that's short for. There's Bart. There's Henry. But there's also Dorrance. Pershing. Rosco, Hubert, and Burgoyne," he says, rattling off casualties from a long ago war, one by one, all that Jack and Daniel both might find familiar. "And there's Konrad. Sounds almost like friend, if you're a Soviet, but that was really just a blip in a whole different set of names. Names I don't know much about."
Nobody
There are a number of cuisines popular today that Jack has never tasted. He has never had, for instance, Thai food. He's smelled it. You can't not smell Thai food if you're near a Thai restaurant at any hour of the day. But he's never tasted it. He hasn't tasted Vietnamese, either. And the Chinese he tried, well, it was probably a lot different from the Chinese food at panda express. It's like a warm hug inside, she says: and Jack offers her a bewildered look, still hunched like a bird of ill-omen, 'cause his coat's dark, gaze trailing briefly to the door although the corner of it never quite leaves Flood, see, never quite abandons fixing Flood into place, right.
"A Soviet," he repeats, with a muddled scowl; his attention dragging from the food, and then. Well, then, let's see. He hesitated, and Flood took the bait as it were, and Jack has always almost trusted to his luck at one point or another. He isn't reckless, but he can be, can't he? There is a certain assurance, a certain confidance which comes from continued survival in the face of many, many obstacles, and so:
"Hmph. Henry's hardly unique. But what about Rainer. Lázár. Amsel. Gilbraeth. Charlemagne. Niccolo. What about Niccolo, eh? In and out of popularity. Bo - " he pauses, clears his throat: "That's short for 'Pirate.'"
Bo' Thomas
For Bo, the conversation at this point is just noise. She is lost in flavour country, taste heaven, gourmet nirvana. It might not be the very best Thai in town, but it was her thai, and not a soul around could argue that fact. For such a skinny young woman she sure loved to eat.
Those great green eyes of hers occasionally popped up to watch the others, but she is lost on her own little adventure, and whatever might come next...she would remember this meal.
"Arr." She says between mouthfuls at Jacks words...but then she is back at her plate.
Energetic, animated, and so very alive....one might wonder for how long.
Flood
[ I've got to run. Jack and Flood may circle back and meet up after Bo's gone, but that's a good wrap for now. Thanks so much you two! ]
Nobody
[I agree. Thanks for letting me crash the party late!]
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