There were times that lurking in the darkness became a bore. When you've crept on a place enough, it had the tendency to become too familiar. Caden was all right with familiar, but only in certain areas of his life.
The Strip was harder to navigate in the shadows. Too many flashing lights and people (most of whom were drunk this time of night). At least, it was pretty. It reminded Cade of Vegas. Pretty and Vegas didn't go together for most people, but most people were dull, so who cared what they thought?
After some hesitation, Cade stepped out of the shadows and leaned against a nearby wall, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and lighting one up. He watched a group of drunk teenagers across the street. They were rambunctious, pushing each other and laughing, talking too loudly. Cade snorted and peered around the area, looking for someone more appealing. Something that could keep his attention for the night.
The Strip was loud. The Strip was bright. The Strip was exactly what Desdemona needed right now to ensure that she was up and active well into the night. Well, that, and plenty of coffee. She never didn't need her precious coffee. Twenty-four-hour coffee shops were the greatest invention in existence, after the substance itself. Des did realize that this avoidance behaviour was a crutch from her old life that she really should be weaning herself off of, of course. She should be focused on trying to learn to control her powers, and staying out of dream realm was not going to help in that endeavour.
On the other hand, Des really didn't want to deal with those nightmares tonight, because she knew exactly what they'd be about. She'd dream, not for the first time, that her death, meeting her father, and the letter had never happened. She'd have dreams that made her doubt her own memories and have her think that Starlight Academy had never existed. She would be back at square one, feeling isolated and alone.
In short, screw her magic and screw her mess of a subconscious. It was time to fill up on caffeine and stay up until dawn.
That was how Desdemona ended up walking down the street, surrounded by neon signs and weaving around street lights, not quite 'hugging' the shadows but showing a clear preference for them. Her strides were flowing, and she never missed a beat as she took regular sips from the chocolate and caramel monstrosity in the paper cup in her hand; she'd had friends in high school who would have disowned her for the crime against coffee that she was drinking, but they didn't realize how desperate for variety a girl could get when she practically lived on the stuff.
This city was surprisingly...normal, really, in some ways. Oh, sure, she sometimes passed by somebody with a tail, or wings, and she sure noticed that part. In fact, 'noticed' was an understatement, as she entered a state where, beneath a layer of dark makeup and a predominately black and red outfit consisting of a corset, skirt, striped stockings, and leather boots, her inner nerd was shrieking incoherently like a tween at her favourite singer's concert. Still, though, it was a city, filled with people, doing typical people things, and there was an odd mix of reassurance and disappointment inside of her in response to that.
Speaking of people, Desdemona soon found herself coming up on a group of rowdy teenagers, and didn't hesitate in crossing the street in response without even looking back. She paused on the other side of the street, but only because there was a nearby trash can and she was almost done her drink; she tilted her head back for one last swig from the coffee cup, then gave it a casual underhand toss to let it land where it belonged.
This side of the street wasn't entirely unoccupied, of course, and Des found herself looking at Mr. Sunglasses At Night over there with a slow rise of a single brow. Not the most unusual thing she'd seen today, or even in the last few minutes, but it seemed that, while the big, obvious things provoked internal squeeing, it was the little details that were going to prod her curiosity. She was tempted to make some kind of quip about the cigarette, a variant on the usual 'bad for you' jab, but remembered that, on Manta Carlos, that may not actually be true.
Instead, with a brief glance at the people that she'd crossed the street to avoid, she commented dully, mostly to herself but with a volume that he'd easily be able to hear. "Don't know what I was expecting from this city..."
On the other hand, Des really didn't want to deal with those nightmares tonight, because she knew exactly what they'd be about. She'd dream, not for the first time, that her death, meeting her father, and the letter had never happened. She'd have dreams that made her doubt her own memories and have her think that Starlight Academy had never existed. She would be back at square one, feeling isolated and alone.
In short, screw her magic and screw her mess of a subconscious. It was time to fill up on caffeine and stay up until dawn.
That was how Desdemona ended up walking down the street, surrounded by neon signs and weaving around street lights, not quite 'hugging' the shadows but showing a clear preference for them. Her strides were flowing, and she never missed a beat as she took regular sips from the chocolate and caramel monstrosity in the paper cup in her hand; she'd had friends in high school who would have disowned her for the crime against coffee that she was drinking, but they didn't realize how desperate for variety a girl could get when she practically lived on the stuff.
This city was surprisingly...normal, really, in some ways. Oh, sure, she sometimes passed by somebody with a tail, or wings, and she sure noticed that part. In fact, 'noticed' was an understatement, as she entered a state where, beneath a layer of dark makeup and a predominately black and red outfit consisting of a corset, skirt, striped stockings, and leather boots, her inner nerd was shrieking incoherently like a tween at her favourite singer's concert. Still, though, it was a city, filled with people, doing typical people things, and there was an odd mix of reassurance and disappointment inside of her in response to that.
Speaking of people, Desdemona soon found herself coming up on a group of rowdy teenagers, and didn't hesitate in crossing the street in response without even looking back. She paused on the other side of the street, but only because there was a nearby trash can and she was almost done her drink; she tilted her head back for one last swig from the coffee cup, then gave it a casual underhand toss to let it land where it belonged.
This side of the street wasn't entirely unoccupied, of course, and Des found herself looking at Mr. Sunglasses At Night over there with a slow rise of a single brow. Not the most unusual thing she'd seen today, or even in the last few minutes, but it seemed that, while the big, obvious things provoked internal squeeing, it was the little details that were going to prod her curiosity. She was tempted to make some kind of quip about the cigarette, a variant on the usual 'bad for you' jab, but remembered that, on Manta Carlos, that may not actually be true.
Instead, with a brief glance at the people that she'd crossed the street to avoid, she commented dully, mostly to herself but with a volume that he'd easily be able to hear. "Don't know what I was expecting from this city..."
"Something out of Harry Potter?" Caden said without hesitation. She must have been new, or just at that stage in her residency where all the excitement was beginning to die down. It was so fun to watch the newbies come to the city and gawk at everything. Manta Carlos pride and all that. "So either you're wondering about that guy's webbed hands, or it's my glasses. But you sound somewhat disappointed so, I'm going to go with the glasses. Maybe I'm like Cyclops? Or the glasses give me extra information on the world around me, for instance, your hair isn't really black. Glamour would be better to use than dye, just saying.
"I take it you haven't been on the island long? Longer than a newbie, but not long enough to be used to all this. You can tell when someone has lived here for years. Nothing surprises them anymore."
Caden finished off his cigarette and flicked it onto the ground, snuffing it with the toe of his shoe. "What brings you out here? Don't get me wrong; you don't look all goody-toe-shoes or anything, but the Strip is kind of like a shadier Vegas. Close to the Underground and full of sex, drugs, and violence. So which are you here for? Most people don't just go on nightly strolls around this part of the Island if you wanted that you'd have gone to the beach or one of the parks."
Across the street, Caden watched as the group of drunk teenagers moved on, still pushing each other and hooting about something. He'd never understood teenagers, but he'd always been amused by their antics. He watched them until they were out of sight and let his gaze flick back to Des.
"Seeing as we're probably going to be talking to each other for the night, the name is Cade Mariani. Pleasure to meet you." Caden didn't personally care if this girl stuck around and poked him all night, there was plenty to discover and explore when the darkness was on the Island. With that said, though, having someone to mess around with could make things more enjoyable.
He wasn't on a job tonight. If he had been, Caden wouldn't have taken a smoke break and certainly wouldn't have been talking to some young girl he didn't know. Speaking of it, she didn't look much older than the children he'd seen drinking across the street. "You in high school or something?"
Desdemona hadn't really expected much in the way of the of a response, let alone for his immediate reply to hit the nail on the head, though 'Harry Potter' hadn't been her first choice of comparison. After spending time in the Underworld, she supposed that she had been subconsciously hyping Manta Carlos up as something comparable, something blatantly magical in all aspects other than just its inhabitants. Her brow quirked up again, this time a quick movement rather than a slow rise like before, but she didn't otherwise show her surprise.
And then he kept talking, prompting Des to turn and face him fully. Her hand came up to touch a strand of dark hair as he mentioned it, the corner of her mouth just barely twitching as if she were sort of, almost considering smirking in amusement. His picking up on the fact that she dyed her hair wasn't exactly blowing her mind, but she could appreciate someone who was observant, all the same. Especially someone who could be so observant through such thick-looking, dark lenses, which was implying something very different from Cyclops eye beams as being part of his powerset.
"As cool as that sounds," she said, tone verging slightly on dry, "My guess is that you're sensitive to the light. Eyes built for handling complete darkness or close to it, maybe?" As new she was to this side of the veil, Des was the granddaughter of personifications of Night and Darkness; the human blood in her was probably the main reason she herself didn't have the exact traits she was describing. She shrugged at his guess on how long she'd been here in a way meant to imply 'pretty much;' she might have still qualified as a newbie, having simply not gone through the usual phase of staring at everything open-mouthed, but she decided that it was simpler to agree.
What he asked once he was done with his cigarrette, now that spurred a reaction, both eyebrows rising at the same time and a small blink. Did he seriously just ask me if I'm out here for...? Her brows fell back to a neutral position soon enough, though. "I'm not 'most people,'" she replied calmly, tone level and with little emotion. "The beach and parks are quiet, and if I wanted quiet I'd stay in and read a book."
The hooting laughter of the group on the other side of the street seemed to just underscore her point. Shady or not, there was an atmosphere to the place that she liked. And would keep her awake. Not that she was sad that the group were moving out of hearing range. After all, she'd found a much more interesting distraction already.
His introduction was a mild surprise, but she didn't hesitate in returning it. "Desdemona Argrys." She walked over and turned on her heel to lean against the wall herself, still leaving some distance between them; he may have been able to brush her shoulder with his fingertips from his current position if he made the effort, but no more than that. "Call me Des."
The question of her schooling earned a flat reply of, "Or something," as her eyes stared out across the street, quietly analyzing the signs of the businesses within sight. An unsurprising number of them had gone with the idea of magic-based puns in their names. Magic-based innuendo in one case. Des was pretty sure that one was strip club.
"So," she said as her gaze flicked back to Caden. "Do you usually have smokes in random places and make conversation with young women who show up? Because you talking about all that sex and violence around here--" A quirk came to her black-painted lips as the sarcasm proceeded to flow freely. "--I can't imagine that ever coming across as creepy in this context. Especially combined with a question that could give an idea of my age. Really, it's just charming."
It'd had to be said, in Des' mind. It'd been a jab just begging to be voiced. Of course, she wasn't creeped out in the slightest, or she would have high-tailed it by now.
And then he kept talking, prompting Des to turn and face him fully. Her hand came up to touch a strand of dark hair as he mentioned it, the corner of her mouth just barely twitching as if she were sort of, almost considering smirking in amusement. His picking up on the fact that she dyed her hair wasn't exactly blowing her mind, but she could appreciate someone who was observant, all the same. Especially someone who could be so observant through such thick-looking, dark lenses, which was implying something very different from Cyclops eye beams as being part of his powerset.
"As cool as that sounds," she said, tone verging slightly on dry, "My guess is that you're sensitive to the light. Eyes built for handling complete darkness or close to it, maybe?" As new she was to this side of the veil, Des was the granddaughter of personifications of Night and Darkness; the human blood in her was probably the main reason she herself didn't have the exact traits she was describing. She shrugged at his guess on how long she'd been here in a way meant to imply 'pretty much;' she might have still qualified as a newbie, having simply not gone through the usual phase of staring at everything open-mouthed, but she decided that it was simpler to agree.
What he asked once he was done with his cigarrette, now that spurred a reaction, both eyebrows rising at the same time and a small blink. Did he seriously just ask me if I'm out here for...? Her brows fell back to a neutral position soon enough, though. "I'm not 'most people,'" she replied calmly, tone level and with little emotion. "The beach and parks are quiet, and if I wanted quiet I'd stay in and read a book."
The hooting laughter of the group on the other side of the street seemed to just underscore her point. Shady or not, there was an atmosphere to the place that she liked. And would keep her awake. Not that she was sad that the group were moving out of hearing range. After all, she'd found a much more interesting distraction already.
His introduction was a mild surprise, but she didn't hesitate in returning it. "Desdemona Argrys." She walked over and turned on her heel to lean against the wall herself, still leaving some distance between them; he may have been able to brush her shoulder with his fingertips from his current position if he made the effort, but no more than that. "Call me Des."
The question of her schooling earned a flat reply of, "Or something," as her eyes stared out across the street, quietly analyzing the signs of the businesses within sight. An unsurprising number of them had gone with the idea of magic-based puns in their names. Magic-based innuendo in one case. Des was pretty sure that one was strip club.
"So," she said as her gaze flicked back to Caden. "Do you usually have smokes in random places and make conversation with young women who show up? Because you talking about all that sex and violence around here--" A quirk came to her black-painted lips as the sarcasm proceeded to flow freely. "--I can't imagine that ever coming across as creepy in this context. Especially combined with a question that could give an idea of my age. Really, it's just charming."
It'd had to be said, in Des' mind. It'd been a jab just begging to be voiced. Of course, she wasn't creeped out in the slightest, or she would have high-tailed it by now.
Cade decidedly liked this girl. She amused him when not a lot did anymore. Being in his business was a good way to learn a few things. Namely, you should never show your hand too early. Despite a growing fondness, he was increasingly wary. But then, what made Cade cautious was always the same thing that intrigued him. Her being observant wasn't a surprise to him, so when she guessed about his light-sensitive eyes, he shrugged one shoulder.
"Pretty much, but that's not nearly as entertaining as Cyclops eyes. Keep the secret between us, eh? I have an X-men reputation to maintain."
Caden watched at Des showed the first sign of genuine emotion. Surprise. Awe, nice. What, was she really so astounded at his mentioning sex, drugs, and violence? It was likely the sex part of the sentence that had gotten him that reaction. It normally was. "That's what they all say," Cade replied without missing a beat. "Yes, yes, you're all unique and extraordinary. Like perfect little snowflakes."
The Bogeyman wasn't at all interested in trying to touch Des; that would just be creepy right? Ha. Her vague answer aside, Cade figured she was at least out of high school, maybe even hundreds of years old. On this island, it could be anything.
"Just making conversation, but to answer your question, yes. I do smoke in random places and speak to random people. Not just women. And hey," he laughed, "I was just telling it like it is. People don't tend to come to the Strip to look at all the pretty lights. You go to the pier for that shit. If people are creeped out, what do I care?"
He rose an eyebrow, which was hard to see behind the thick sunglasses, and looked directly at Des. "Are you assuming I was propositioning you for sex? Bit presumptuous if you are. I could easily go to a brothel. You just look young enough to have a curfew, but then, Manta Carlos and apparent ages... It's all a little iffy."
Oh, he did not just...Barely missing a beat either, Desdemona shot back, "'Perfect little snowflakes?' Gee, how original of you." If she was going to get called out over sounding like a cliche, no way was Caden getting away with doing the exact same thing.
His response to her jab, though, that got her to look at him a little more directly, and the laugh sealed it for her; she liked this guy. His own question, though, made the amused quirk of her lips vanish and her gaze shift slightly, not quite a full roll of her eyes but an implication of it. "Oh, I know what a proposition sounds like," she responded flatly. "If anything, you sounded like you were trying to drum up business for someplace around here, with that 'which are you here for' question."
Speaking of business, this whole exchange had just reminded Des of the fact that brothels were legal on Manta Carlos, something that had slipped her mind when she'd decided to take a walk here. Des found her eyes traveling back to that building that she'd previously assumed was a strip club. That was certainly...a thought. Not necessarily one that required any sort of action to come of it, at least not tonight, but a thought all the same. One to log away. And consider. Later. Maybe.
"And I get what you mean by 'iffy,'" Des said, shifting slightly to keep from getting uncomfortable leaning against the wall. "I've got a cousin who's a few hundred years older than me, but you'd never know by looking at us." There was no change in her outward neutrality, but on the inside, part of Des wanted to smile. She didn't have a trace of unease in Caden's presence, and now she'd just dropped a tidbit that could be taken as a reason why. What he read into it regarding a guess to her true age, if anything, was up to him.
His response to her jab, though, that got her to look at him a little more directly, and the laugh sealed it for her; she liked this guy. His own question, though, made the amused quirk of her lips vanish and her gaze shift slightly, not quite a full roll of her eyes but an implication of it. "Oh, I know what a proposition sounds like," she responded flatly. "If anything, you sounded like you were trying to drum up business for someplace around here, with that 'which are you here for' question."
Speaking of business, this whole exchange had just reminded Des of the fact that brothels were legal on Manta Carlos, something that had slipped her mind when she'd decided to take a walk here. Des found her eyes traveling back to that building that she'd previously assumed was a strip club. That was certainly...a thought. Not necessarily one that required any sort of action to come of it, at least not tonight, but a thought all the same. One to log away. And consider. Later. Maybe.
"And I get what you mean by 'iffy,'" Des said, shifting slightly to keep from getting uncomfortable leaning against the wall. "I've got a cousin who's a few hundred years older than me, but you'd never know by looking at us." There was no change in her outward neutrality, but on the inside, part of Des wanted to smile. She didn't have a trace of unease in Caden's presence, and now she'd just dropped a tidbit that could be taken as a reason why. What he read into it regarding a guess to her true age, if anything, was up to him.
Cade didn't bother with throwing another jab her way when she commented that the special snowflake line was cliche. She was correct, and there were more interesting things to talk about.
Caden gave Desdemona a thoughtful hum at the idea of plugging in a business. He inhaled the last puff of his cigarette, holding the smoke a few seconds before releasing it in a series of rings to the night sky. He flicked the cigarette and snuffed it out with the toe of his shoe.
"Okay. I'll play. You want a good brothel in the Strip? Check out Temptations. It'll look like a big church overrun by Demons. Good food, good alcohol, just all around excellent. Even if you aren't up for sex." He smiled, the look more a baring of teeth than anything genuine. The expression was gone almost the same moment it touched his face.
And that was Caden's plug for the day. Temptations, co-rub by the Rosales gang. He didn't feel he had to mention the interesting rumors that would circulate the business. Desdemona wanted to give him hints; it was only fair that Cade give her a lead to an interesting time in Manta Carlos. It had nothing to do with sex, drugs, or violence, not if she didn't want it to.
She wasn't as young as she looked, hell, Des was likely older than he was. Fair enough. Cade was silent, watching her from the corner of his eye and looking at her in this new light.
"You're far too comfortable in the dark for someone who isn't drunk. Your powers are connected to it somehow? I have to admit; I wasn't expecting such exciting company tonight."
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