Logs:That Voodoo That You Do
|That Voodoo That You Do|
|Dramatis Personae|| |
27 June, 2016
Random meeting in a bar
Kato sits at the bar, his cane propped upright at his side, sipping from a glass of dark rum.
New places are fun! Always looking for something new to explore, Honeybunny enters with eyes wide and bright. Okay, so it's... a bar. A fairly normal, quiet bar. But there are people, and that's all she really needs. She heads to the bar, the bartender already giving her a dubious look. That happens a lot when someone is tiny and adorable instead of big or distinguished.
Kato glances briefly at the new arrival, resting a hand on the head of his cane, his gaze drifting back to the middle distance.
"Hi!" says the Japanese woman as she hops up onto a bar stool. This close up there's definitely something off about her on a metaphysical level. Something's not right. The bartender seems even more wary now.
"I'm not sure if you should be here," he says.
Kato sips his rum, seemingly imperturbed. He glances askance at the barkeep at his pronouncement, muscles moving beneath dark skin as he flexes his jaw, mandibles crackling quietly.
"Aw," Honeybunny pouts. "I won't cause any trouble. Promise!" She sounds sincere, but there's that nagging tug of reality trying to sound the alarm that she just Should Not Be. It's likely far easier for a Mage to ignore than a mortal, though. "I'll just have soda, 'kay?"
There's a moment of hesitation, but the bartender serves up whatever brand is in the fountain gun.
Kato does, eventually, cast an eye upon Honeybunny. Ignorance is less likely than simply hitting the amygdala override when confronted by something... 'unnatural.'
Ritter arrives from the Historical District. Ritter has arrived.
How unnatural can she be? Beyond being a Harajuku freak in the middle of Maine, or course. And yet, the feeling doesn't go away. She's too pretty, and not in the Hollywood, too much plastic surgery sense. Too perfect. The bartender can be heard muttering under his breath about 'girls like her'. And yet Honeybunny just smiles and sips her soda. She flashes a bright grin at Kato when he glances at her. "Hi!"
"Hello," Kato replies in grave, Sam-the-Eagle-esque tones, sipping his rum, "How are you?" Speaking of the unnatural.....a dusty old relic masquerading as an Englishman scuffs in.
Ritter looks decidedly tired, and has the distinct look of someone in bad need of a stiff drink. He's in jeans and t-shirt, the former of which he brushes nonexistent dust from as he settles heavily at the bar. Not a regular, it seems - no bantering greeting from the bartender, as he orders a whiskey, neat.
Honeybunny and Kato sit at the bar, not exactly next to each other, but near enough to talk. The closer Ritter gets, the more he can feel it, too - the Japanese girl is oddly unsettling.
"I'm good!" she chirps back to Sam. "You? Whatcha drinking? Is it good?"
Kato's attention travels to Ritter at the new arrival, then ponderously drifts back to to the nearby girl. "Bacardi," he says, lifting his glass slightly, "Not the best rum I've had, but..." He leaves the word hanging in the air with finality.
There's an absent-minded nod of greeting to the others....though that unease seems to have him glancing around, as if in search of some overt source. It doesn't *feel* like a power in use, not as such.....and with that much memory to comb for possible similar impressions, it'll take a while. So Ritter's brooding over that whiskey, once he has it, brow furrowed.
Honeybunny nods her head agreeably, like she knows exactly what he means. In reality? No clue. As for the unsettling twinge? Not a power at all. It's her very existence. "Totally," she agrees with Kato. The Englishman get a perky smile and greeting as well. "Hello!"
Kato raises his glass slightly in Ritter's general direction, clearly being no stranger to brooding. "Better than soda pop," he remarks, quietly.
That has him looking over, still wearing that air of a man half-lost in reverie. But his voice is pleasant enough, as he replies, "'ello." A grin for Kato. "I'll drink to that," he says, lifting his glass in salute, in return. The accent's strongly northern England. Someone's a long way from home.
"I'm twenty-four, but don't exactly have ID, and this doesn't look like the kinda place I can play Hello Titty with the bartender, so..." It's a stage whisper, after which Honeybunny shrugs her slight shoulders and lifts her drink.
Kato hrms. "The law is indeed quite strict, here," he muses weightily, sipping his rum relatively carelessly.
"Hel-" Even as he's saying the word, Ritter is thinking the better of finishing the question, and his teeth click shut on it before anything more than that one syllable can escape. "I'll buy you a drink, then," Ritter says, with a boozer's gallantry. "IF they'll let me."
Kato hmmms. "Anything to get her out sooner than later, I would imagine," he says, having read the situation with uncomfortable precision.
"Aw! That's sweet!" Honeybunny exclaims, clasping her hands to her chest at Ritter's offer. "I doubt they'll let you, though." She then tilts her head at Kato. "You want me to leave?"
Ritter glances to Kato. "What?" he asks, a little blankly. "What d'you mean?"
"No," Kato responds, "Though neither do I care if you stay. Qu'est que c'est." He looks to Ritter, then to the bartender. "I believe the landlord is discomfitted. Perhaps even more than when I darkened his establishment."
"I have that effect on people," Honeybunny pouts, sipping at her soda. "Do you make him nervous 'cause you're black?" It's asked in utter innocence and curiosity. "You don't make me nervous."
Blankness intensifies, though there's a wince at Honey's comment. A look at her, then a questioning one for Kato. ".....and why's that, in both cases? And no, it 'asn't anything to do with skin color or appearances, either."
"There are many quite understandable reasons to be nervous around me. But I cannot discount skin color," Kato responds to Honey, then looks directly at Ritter with a dead-eyed stare. "Do you believe in the Unseen World?" He inquires.
"You don't make me nervous at all," says the Japanese girl. "Ooo! Is that like The Matrix?"
Ritter snorts at that. "Believe in it? 've got a summer 'ome there." Deadpan humor in his face, but no skepticism. "No," he says to Honey. "The Matrix was false, an illusion. This'd be something more real than real."
Kato considers Honey. "The silly fantasy movie with the robots?" He inquires, gaze drifting back towards Ritter, "Maybe... if instead of robots you dealt with gods. In the vodoun tradition, they take an active interest in the affairs of the living, cursing or blessing as suits their whim. I can feel their influence in the air, at times..."
Ritter's words confuse her a bit, but Kato makes Honeybunny's eyes go wide. "You do voodoo?" she whispers in rapt fascination. She grips her seat under her and hop-bounces the bar stool closer a few feet. "Can you teach me?"
"I've a 'ousemate who's just finished his training as a...santero," he says, hesitantly. "And 'o's influence is about, now?" Curious, Ritter's looking between Honey and Kato, air ever warier.
Kato says, "I am a lousy teacher, I could never make a mambo out of you. But if you are curious, perhaps I can point you in the right directions." He considers Ritter. "My first inclination is Kriminel, sometimes called Cain. A creature who both craves society and is forbidden it."
"Is he a housemate at your summer home?" asks Honeybunny. She seems oblivious to the fact that they're actively spitballing just what she is.
"'e is," Ritter says. There's something secretive about his smile, now, as he gazes down into the whiskey glass. "Though mostly in my year-round, as well." He nods at Kato, as if urging him to go on.
Kato says, "He is an occasional associate of mine, though more frequently his master, Baron Samedi. There is no Houngan or Bokor who can be said to regularly associate with ALL the Loa, for they tend to play favorites."
The conversation is going well over her pretty little head, now. Honeybunny sips her soda and swings her feet.
Ritter nods at that. "Even a kind of marriage, isn't there? If the relationship is deep enough." None of it seems to perturb him, particularly. Though he wonders of Honeybunny, "Why'd you want to learn voodoo?"
Kato nods to Ritter. "That is possible," he agrees, looking curiously to Honey at the question.
Blinkblink. Oh. She'd tuned out - not through any fault of theirs, just... Short attention span. "Huh? Oh! 'Cause it would be awesome! I could make voodoo dolls, like one of Mr. Bartender there, and poke needles in it until he gave me alcohol." She has plans, yo.
The old Immortal's expression goes dry. "Not actually 'ow that works, or so I understand," he drawls, before taking a more sizable slug of his whiskey.
Kato hmmms. "That is more properly 'hoodoo'," he corrects Honey, "Voodoo is a combination of faith and sorcery. Hoodoo is a collection of superstitious sorcerous practices. Ones with which I am familiar, mind, but nonetheless, different." He finishes his rum, rising and grasping his suspiciously heavy 'cane'.
"Hoodoo? Huh. Then that's what I wanna learn. That would be soooooo useful." Honeybunny sips her soda until it's just ice and makes the 'empty' noise. She looks up when Kato rises. "Nice t'meetcha!"
His glass is near empty, but he lifts it in silent farewell to Kato. Then Ritter's eyeing Honey again, thoughtfully. A beat, and then he wonders, "Where're you from, lass?"
Kato nods to Honey. "Indeed. I am called Papa Quiet in the community, if you are earnestly curious about our ways." He nods to Ritter, tucking his bone cane under his arm and heading for the exit.
"Sweet name! I'm Honeybunny. Bye!" She waves after him. "Seattle," she answers Ritter easily. "But I lived all over the west coast."
Kato opens the front door and up the stairs and out into the night. Kato has left.
Ritter goes on, glancing down into the dregs of the whiskey as if contemplating another. "And what brought you 'ere?"
"Oh, y'know how it is," Honeybunny says with a practiced coolness from watching lots of people in movies as opposed to something born of experience. "Love went bad, shot a guy, the fuzz got hot for me. Needed to get away."
It's more amusement than skepticism that lights his face....but he grins at her, unashamedly. "Oh?" he asks, unable to resist urging her on. "Do tell."
"I don't really like to talk about it," Honeybunny says with a soft sigh. "I just learned some stuff that hurt me, so I hurt him. Now I need a new start."
"And what do you do, then, in this life on the lam?" he wonders, signalling the bartender for another. "Your drinks are on me," he adds. May only be sodas, but hey, she's giving him a story.
"I just got hired as a cam girl!" Honeybunny says quite excitedly. "It's sooooo much better than stripping. No sweaty hands all over me. No seeing them wank when the bouncers aren't looking. I don't care what they do at home when they watch me because I don't have to see it anymore."
Ritter's lips thin out, at that. Well, he *did* ask. "I see," he says, voice dry. "I imagine that is much nicer." Mental note - ask the fiance if he ever stripped for a living.
She seems quite chipper about the whole thing. "Less dangerous than robbing diners, too." Is she insane? Quite possibly.
Jesse has arrived.
They're at the bar. Honey's got a soda, Ritter's got a new glass of whiskey. He's listening to her with an air of faint incredulity. "Is that what 'ad you shooting people? Robbing diners?"
"Nah," says Honeybunny. "We never shot anybody. It was just to scare 'em. I only ever shot my man."
Jesse wanders in, and when he spies Ritter, he smiles warmly. "Hello, stranger." Honeybunny gets a curious but pleasant version of that smile. "Hi," he says to her.
Ritter's face lights as Jesse appears. Utterly transparent. He beckons Jesse over. "She's a...former robber of diners. Can't say I caught your name," he asides to Honey herself.
The closer Jesse gets, the more he gets a sense of something unsettling about Honeybunny. Probably good, then, that she's about to leave. Her cell phone makes annoyingly cute noises and she fishes it from her bomber jacket. "Gotta go! Private patron booked a cam session!" She hops off the bar stool and waves cheerily to Ritter. "I'm Honeybunny! Nice to meetcha!"
Jesse settles at the bar beside Ritter, and he tilts his head as he regards Honeybunny. Though there's no pinpointable reaction, his expressive face betrays himself. Curiouser, at the very least, and paying a bit closer attention to her. "I told you," he says to Ritter with a wry smile. "I send them packing." Then, to Honeybunny, "Nice to meet you." The bit about a private cam session hasn't escaped him. Add intrigue to that curiosity.
"She's a cam girl," Ritter explains. He knows what that is....if only barely. "A pleasure," he says, to the departing Promethean.
Honeybunny makes like a bunny and bounces.