Logs:The Quick and the Kinda Dead
|The Quick and the Kinda Dead|
|Dramatis Personae|| |
11 July, 2016
Boy Meets (Dead) Girl
Late night, or getting late anyway. Less and less people in the coffee shop at this hour. The random few probably on their way home after grabbing a bite. One looks like he's here for the caffeine, or the ambience, if you can call it that. Maybe just the company. Damian sits at a table by himself, laptop open in front of him, typing away. The suit he wears is off-putting, he doesn't dress like your typical nerd, yet all the signs are there if one looks closely. Late night on his computer, along, caffeine and he's coding and working on some really techy server stuff, were someone to recognize what was on his screen.
In bounces barely five feet of color and energy. The giant, fuzzy pink go-go boots add a few inches, and the color matches her hair. The Hello Kitty earmuffs, while hardly necessary in summer, are adorable. There's an unnatural charm and magnetism to her, but beneath that is a sense of something being not quite right. It's even a little creepy. She heads to the counter to order.
Damian looks at you. Surprisingly, Damian isn't as focused as he might seem. Or he's more aware of his surroundings then he lets on. That and it's almost impossible to miss the pink?thing that comes in the door. He can't help but stare a little, or study her at least. It's an assault to the senses, and then there's that feeling of her being off. Staring turns into a long study as he absently reaches for his coffee and he takes a sip. The other hand slowly ceases and desists at the typing. Unseen, unheard, something quietly and suddenly whispers in Damian's ear. Curiosity marks Damian's face then. For most, with this girl, it would probably be ogling and who knows what, but Damian appears thoughtful beyond the curious.
For those with Deathsight, Honeybunny. is a contradiction - a dead body walking. She's clearly no zombie, but there's not ghost or soul attached, either. The poor barista is dumbstruck by her presence and it takes three attempts to take her order correctly. His female co-worker glowers at the Japanese girl all the while, brooding jealousy clear on her face. Honeybunny seems oblivious.
The curiosity grows as Damian realizes she's dead. And realize it he does. The whispers from the unseen companion, the thing that inhabits his soul, they grow. Perhaps its curiosity is peaked, also. Whatever it is, Damian has never seen its kind before. It's sensory overload. The pink, the woman, and mostly the being dead. Coffee settles on the table, his hand around it, the other resting on the keyboard, limp. He can't seem to take his eyes off the girl if for far different reasons than the barista. At this point, he might not even realize how dumbfounded he is also, eyes running up and down her, like somehow that could solve the puzzle. How is it possible?
How is it possible? It shouldn't be -- she shouldn't be. And yet there she is. She gets her drink, some iced coffee concoction, and takes it t with her as she steps away from the counter and looks around for seating options. "Hi!" she chirps when she sees Damian staring at her.
With the stuff Damian has dealt with lately. The things hunting Sin-Eaters. Dead things brought to life, Damian can't help but be on edge. Even as she turns, tears him out of his stupor with her words, eyes flicker over her, looking for the marked signs of those other creatures. He's never actually seen one in person. It takes him a good long while to respond with a shake of his head, finding the girls eyes. "Hi." His brow furrows a little as he nods, and his fingers slowly move to his keyboard and start typing, furiously. Eyes though, they never leave Honeybunny. Really, he's still staring, but this time it's more of a predator backed into a wall type thing than his previous bewilderment. It's wiped away quickly, another shake of his head. His mask replaced with quiet calm. "Sorry, uh?.so much pink." The scary part is, his words seem all too sincere. Honest, when they likely are not. The man is good at that.
"Hi!" Honeybunny repeats. She's not entirely pink - mostly the hair and boots, but that's still quite a bit. The fact that she's not wearing a lot more than that doesn't help. A black baby-corset and black frilly miniskirt is the rest of her outfit, leaving much of her legs and torso bare. "Ooo! Whatcha typing? Are you working?" She skitters closer.
Fingers fly and whatever he is doing, documents close, windows appear and disappear, but he's still typing. He still can't take his eyes from her, and that whispering just in his ear isn't helping. It's incessant. "Yeah, sort of. Code." He might almost appear shy just due to his sheer loss in the moment. He has to collect himself though, and he closes his eyes ever so briefly before putting on his half smile. It's a small, odd thing, and it only adds to the shy look. He motions to a seat, even as he turns to laptop screen towards her. As foretold, it's code, Java, mostly. He's working on a website design and if one knew what they were looking for, security rules on a firewall. Was it everything he was doing? Probably not, but his hands are awfully quick, and his skills on a computer are ridiculous. A little more with it, he reaches out a hand to her. "Damian. Motta." The last name almost always feels forgotten. An afterthought.
"Ooo! Making a website? Whatcha makin' a site for?" Seems she knows enough to recognize the basics, but the details are lost on her. She takes the offered hand in her own dainty one. "Honeybunny," she replies. "Nice t'meetcha!"
Damian pulls the laptop back towards him after shaking her hand firmly. He still can't seem to keep his eyes off her for too long, but it might be a myriad of different things, now. He also gives her a dubious look, quickly. Honeybunny? That can't be anyone's real name. "Nice to meet you, too." He types a few things into it again. "Uh, just a?improvement and idea for one I saw earlier that was awful. So I thought, I'd, uh, you know, help someone out because it was painful to look at." Another small, silent study before he adds. "You do much website design?" It's all mostly code, so if she recognizes that, she must have some experience, right? Then, he can't help but ask. "Sorry, that's actually your name?" Sadly, he doesn't recognize her, he's possibly never been to her site. Weird, for a computer nerd, you think that'd be right up his alley.
"Not really," says Honeybunny of coding. "I know a little, like, HTML and stuff. That's about it." She shrugs and sips her drink for a brief second. "I'm more of a web personality. I'm a cam girl." There's no shame at all in her tone or posture. "Honeybunny? Yep. Realist name I have."
Damian may need to confirm that later, but he doesn't in front of her for once. Maybe because she's standing over him, basically. Still, her affirmation gets her another dubious look. What kind of parents?oh yeah, wait, she'd dead and not any kind he knows. Cogs churn a little, but he's still clueless. Rather than that, he focuses on that other part, a brow lifting slightly. Cam girl? A perusal of her outfit, well the girl entirely, and that makes perfect sense. "Cam girl?" There's different kinds and he refrains from asking. He could investigate that later if he wishes, too. "Pays the bills, right?" He offers that odd, half smile again. It seems to fit somehow. "How'd you get in to that?"
"Yep! Erotic cam girl. I do striptease, dance, game online in my undies, or even topless. Things like that. I've stripped and stuff at clubs, but this is way better. No sweaty guys slobbering all over me. They can slobber on the screen, but I don't see it, so that's fine."
Well, that was one question answered, but Damian is starting to catch on. He nods at that. He's seen a couple in his time, but never actual met one. It's somewhat surreal. "Yeah, I can see how that's better." He locks his screen, then and closes the lid, focusing more on the girl. "Hopefully that's all safe and secure? You have good security on all that? Someone takes care of the website and such?" Focus on something he knows a lot about. That might help.
"The company takes care of all of that," says Honeybunny. "They have an apartment I stay at three nights a week, and I'm basically on for most most of that. There's a schedule and stuff."
Damian nods at that, but he also seems to be taking it in. He probably knows nothing about the life of a cam girl in truth. "I see. Well, as long as they keep you safe." His brow furrows again, and he reaches over to start packing up his laptop. It looks like he has to go soon, but he doesn't stop talking to her. "You don't feel afraid you might have some creepy stalker out here?"
Honeybunny shrugs. "The apartment has a security guard, and they mask IPs and stuff so the fans don't really know where I am, anyway. I've had creepers follow me before, back when I stripped. I'm used to it. It's okay."
"Good, so they know a little of what they are doing." Damian makes a little bit of a face at the idea of someone following her. He obviously finds it detestable. Maybe that means he's not a creeper, but then again, it's always the ones no one suspects. Laptop away, he pulls out a card from the bag and fumbles with it for a second because really, why is he giving her this? Whatever the case, he hands it over to her: Cyber Vault Securities. Address, phone number, cellphone number and his name. The address is just outside, actually. That's when he has to make something up on the fly, "Uh, in case you ever need something, or uh, help with the whole cam girl thing." That came out wrong, but it also came out awkward and lacking in confidence, so that works. Inviting the possible enemy into your place. S-M-R-T.
Honeybunny beams when he gives her a business card, like she's just been given a gift. "Aw! Thank you!" Unless he dodges, she tries to hug him rather suddenly. That creepy, not-right feeling increases when she does, though she's also damn soft and cuddly.
Worst case she gives the card to her company and maybe Damian gets some business. Or so he might have thought. Much worse than that is this hug. Damian shivers just slightly when she does it. It also exposes just how socially awkward he might be. At least, judging by how uncomfortable he seems. The not quite right feeling is not helping. Her being a corpse, even less so. He might have died, but he draws a line at any form of necrophilia, to be sure. Which means she gets to hug him, when the dust clears, but he doesn't hug her back. He just lets it happen. It's hard to say if the soft and cuddly makes it better or worse. "Sure."
"I'll let you go," says Honeybunny when she releases the hug. "It was awesome meeting you! Look me up online and check out my show!" She slips the card into her corset top and waggles her fingers at him in a wave.
Let him go, indeed. When she does, he takes the opportunity to stand and sling his laptop bag strap over his shoulder. "Yeah, sorry. Work to do." He gives her another once over, but it's not the kind of leering she probably gets most of the time. It's like some last assessment. "It was nice meeting you, also." He straightens his tie a little and even flashes her his half smile. An awkward, lopsided half smile that simply seems to fit. "Take care of yourself?" No guarantee about checking out her show though, and the man is headed for the door.