Ashes and ashes

RE: Ashes and ashes (open)

If Valentine had anything, it was a very expert eye for the pathetic. The pathetic and the easy. Even if it wasn't and addition to his empathy ability, he'd learned all the signs and deeper, just from the short life he'd led.

So, when Val was taking a brisk late walk, and saw, through a window, a man pouring what was presumably alcohol into his cup- in a sweets shop- he stopped and took a few steps back. Looked a little more carefully, took his time to see if this was at all worth his time.

It was funny, a guy that big, in this setting, looking that terrible. It looked like someone else got to him first, and had left him out for others to pick up the pieces. Val felt a laugh bubble briefly in his throat before dying again. It was nice, a good sign. Val was definitely in the mood to make friends now, maybe offer a little comfort to a poor lost soul like the kind young man he was.

The little bell that jingled when Val walked in helped him start smiling. His shoes clacked on the floor, and he didn't look at his point of true interest while walking to the counter. He ordered a hot chocolate, voice smooth and deceivingly soft. The steaming cup he received, on the warm summer evening, barely heated his hands.

There were other tables available, and there really weren't many people here. He sat down at the one that was already taken by the man who looked, to him, like an absolute loser right then.

Val smiled. "Hey there. You don't look so great. I was wondering if you wanted some company, someone to talk to? If you don't, I won't stay, but... perhaps you do."

The fact that the initial reaction that flashed across the man's face didn't stay around was his first mistake. After that, if Val tried counting, he'd just end up bursting into laughter, and wouldn't get anywhere. But Val had seen that look before, a missed escape option offered up on a silver platter by one's deeper instincts. Only, because society was so domesticated nowadays, some imitation of civilized, people loved to ignore such things. Loved to believe that they were safe just because everyone pretended to agree to some rules, rules that were so much easier to break or step around than anyone liked to think. Well. Most were already stressed out enough, weren't they?

Val mirrored the man, sipping at his own hot drink. It didn't really feel like much, but he always enjoyed chocolate. He continued to smile, and then, mentally raised his eyebrows. Apparently he was already this guy's type, he'd approached in a friendly manner but now there was flirting. That turned things even further in his favor. He wondered if this man knew how easy of pickings he was, but definitely wasn't going to tell him.

"Jack," Val said, trying the name out, keeping his tone light and very much resisting a purr. His voice was as clear and sympathetic as he could get it, even if his head wasn't on the same path. He sounded older than he was when he used a tone like that. And like a different person entirely. "It's nice to meet you, Jack. Please, it's fine, you don't look that bad. Really." His mouth curved gently. "I just had a feeling. I'm good with stuff like that, knowing when someone might want a friendly face, I mean." And his face was friendly, now.

"My name is Valentine Crowther, but please, call me Val. And you flatter me- I didn't expect anything like that, coming over to your table, but it's not like I'll turn it down, either. You're the especially tempting looking one here, after all." His voice stayed casual, but his eyes darkened just a bit.

He chuckled and started again. "So, company. If there's anything I could do to help cheer you up, well, I'm here now." Since, of course, making your points of interest feel good was the first part of things, right before you yank it all away.

"The scruffy look has quite a number of fans, Jack," Val replied. Well, so he heard. The most attractive thing to him was still a mix of delicate and sharp edged femininity, which put static energy on his skin, and which he liked to take and embrace within himself.

This was almost too easy for Valentine's tastes. But it was still early. Something, though- there was something about this man that made him want to push a little, see if he could catch him off guard, or draw those original instincts back out. Maybe Val was just in one of those moods.

Val resisted the urge to raise a precise brow at the hoard of sugar now piled on the table. He also stopped himself from making any comments about stress eating. For the time being, Jack seemed to have the shame covered on his own. However, Val accepted the chocolate cake- it would probably only cause mild sickness, in comparison to the other options. A lesser evil, some might say.

Oh. New... no wonder. That was just lovely, wasn't it.

Val took a conservative nibble of his cake, and leaned back, humming a bit. "Okay. I'll answer in order, then. I like art. I've lived here with my family for my entire life, never been away, but it isn't like outsiders are an odd sight. And for powers... I'm sure you could guess at least one." His smile turned a little odd, leaning dangerously towards outright unpleasant. Or simply ironic. "But you're new. So of course you wouldn't know me, my family, or what I'm known for..."

Val laughed without humor. "Ah, I'll offer up something, though. It's rather hard to explain what I do in detail, just in a casual setting... let's just say, for the time being, that I'm very good with dead things." He toyed with his fork, tapping it on the cake and twisting it around. He kept his eyes down on what he was doing. "Hope you don't mind morbid at the sweets table." Because if not, I've got so much more where that came from.

"Is that so?" Val replied, a slow, genuine interest in his voice at that, which tasted a bit different than his friendly, acted imitation of it. "What a coincidence." Val wasn't sure he believed in those, at least, not when things came to him. He knew what he was, at least vaguely, knew what people said about him. Whether actual facts would be found to ever back anything up, he didn't know. But he didn't need them for games, or to feel like he was relevant.

Balance. That had always been his favorite theory- that he was how he was to offer a necessary bit of despair to the world. Not the general sort, but personal. When it came to offering a lot of focus to something, someone, that was where both his fascinations and skill had settled. And who was he to deny nature? Nature ruled him, body and mind. He didn't have anything better to do besides play along.

And oh, something must have happened, because now Val really wanted to fuck with this guy. He was giving off the most welcoming vibe, and it kind of pissed Val off. He thought about it for a minute. Decided to test it. Settled back down, smooth and cold.

"Oh, really?" Val said, tone getting outright sunny now. "Well, if you say so. Let's see... it's always strange being able to tell any of this myself, aha. Scared little maids like to chatter." He took a bite of his cake, feeling sick to his stomach. It set him further into his mood. He always liked little helpful pushes like that. "What would you like to hear about? Got some fun themes to pick from.

"Like, for example, when I was a child... animals would often just drop dead in front of me. Limp, and sad." He paused in his easy musings, suddenly amused at the word choice. Sad. Well, things that couldn't entertain you any longer were exactly that. "In a bit of a distant sense. I could make them turn back on, and then touch the off switch again just as easily. Well. They were awake, but brittle... and so very cold," Val recounted, eyes closed. He opened them again, reaching out his own hand, offering. Smiling. Go ahead, take it. Feel what I am, realize how much you can tell, just from touching me. Maybe I'll get to do the same with you... if you're miserable enough.

Val mentally nodded to himself, not really surprised by the outcome of that bit of testing at this point. And after his little test ride of Jack, he was even less surprised. He was picking at scraps, like the vulture he was. His head buzzed pleasantly, a new sense of personhood rattling around up there now, a sense of something out of an absolute nothing. He couldn't help his face brightening. He wasn't even shaking.

Val rubbed his fingers together, simply smiling down at them for a minute, not in any hurry to satisfy any of Jack's curiosities. When he did let his gaze drift back up, he entwined his hands on the table, adopting a look he'd learned years and years ago from child psychologists. "You were the one that took my hand, Jack. So naive, after so much, that I can't help but think it isn't naivety at all. Don't act offended." He tilted his head, and continued to stare. "You're a beautiful wreck, aren't you? ...But, of course, I'm sure you've heard it all before."

Val narrowed his eyes thoughtfully for a moment, he mock covered his mouth with one elegantly raised hand. "Why, Jack, am I the rebound?"

Then, he let that bubble of laughter he'd killed, when he hadn't even approached Jack yet, come back to life. It wasn't nice, but it had feeling to it. Val was still rather high off what he'd stolen- received- from Jack. And experimenting with how this man reacted to things.