Ben Voss, Abraham Gene, & Vespera Spindel - ft. Deborah Termellio
Now at first, everything seemed to be going smoothly. Like, the KY jelly kind of smooth. He was working Deborah up to a pretty comfortable level. Well, that was what he assumed. But she wasn't fighting anything and was laughing and enjoying herself. Number one rule of flirting: always make sure they're enjoying themselves. Sheesh, Abe learned that one the hard way. Anyways, she was picking up the tricks pretty well and the encounter itself was going pretty well. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of something that can be described as nothing more than the blood-curdling visage of a high-school emo prom queen. Under normal circumstances, the ridicule would come in such a fluid and cascading torrent of vicious diatribe that she would run out of wrists to slice open! But this was not[i/] the usual circumstance - he had a woman to serenade! Granted, the act of serenading would come a lot easier with the proper serenading equipment (the guitar, for instance, as ukeleles were not quite as romantic in typical scenes).
But he had to give it to himself: he at least had enough of it in him to shoot Vespera a scowl which in itself read "What the fuck you think you doin'?" A face that, clearly, was universal among hundreds of languages worldwide and regarded as the most acknowledge expression around the [i]globe. He returned back to his game with Deborah, just barely missing how she was distracting by everything else. He did feel a little weird. Looking over at Wendsday Addam's slutty cousin gave him a weird vibe. Something that make him look over - but ach time he did got nothing more than a crawl up the spine. While the pheromones had an effect, there was a surprising amount of willpower in Vespera's target. Perhaps flushed with an array of other thoughts and emotions and senses. But in any case, no. Absolutely not. In Abe's book, that was one tail he wouldn't want to check out. Sheesh, how would you even sleep with her? If her ass got less light than her face, it's probably a night light... then again, judging by the clothes... her ass probably got just as much sun. Egh. Put the clothes on anyone else, and hell yeah. This one was probably fifty-something years old with lots of botox looking for youngsters.
Goth cougars. God have mercy.
Looking over back to Deborah, he noticed that his new gal here was all spaced out and trance-like. "Eh? You a'right?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just... something that has to do with my power." Deborah quickly replied.
Ho hum, interesting. Maybe that would be a question he'd consider for the future in this school. He could take on a mean load of mother fuckers, but God save him if he finds a score that turns out to have a killer vagina. Like, how would you even recover from that?
"Anyways," he continued, "the walls are great for ricocheting the cue ball into your targets and--"
"Don't take it personal when I say I do not wish to associate myself with murderers."
Abraham stopped dead in his tracks when this interesting little phrase tickled his ear. Oh? Murderer? This had to be good. When he looked up he saw it was Shannon, the girl from earlier. He felt a twinge of suspicion. That was the girl who refused to hang out with him and her Deborah friend by the pool table. Got some pretty weird vibes too. Did she know? How could she? He himself wasn't convicted but...
The longer he watched, the more that made sense. He wasn't really paying much attention to Deborah, and he felt pretty sure that sexy here wasn't either. In fact, she left in a hurry, leaving Abe a little confused as to why she did, but still trained on the conversation Shannon was having. Deborah's addition began to clarify. Oooh... oh, right. Okay. So it must be someone else... wait, were they talking about Stuffy? The guy in the suit? No way. Looks like he never did an honest day's work in his life. Granted, Abe came from a similar background, but he had a pretty off-color history and he was pretty active. And he also didn't find value in wearing suits. Nice clothes? Not a necessity, but absolutely, he wore them. But this... Stuffy guy. He had to be half of Abe's size. A power? Nah... nah... well, maybe. A lot of powers caused damage.
Regardless, if this was for real, Abe intended to keep an eye on Stuffy. It was safe to say that old habits die hard. Ah, there was something fulfilling about dishing out justice. Well, Abe's brand of justice. The purpose itself has a little less to do with justice, but the justice that was made in the process was a nice enough side dish.
Vespera continued inspecting the pool cues occasionally stealing a discrete glance at the two. Her pheromones didn't seem to be having the effect she hoped they would. After catching his questioning glance there was no doubt that she'd been noticed. Since he was with Deborah it could have been that the dark skinned young man wasn't in to white women. If she had to be perfectly honest with herself these tactics failed more often than not. Though that didn't change the hint of frustration she now felt. No matter. Without wasting any more time she grabbed a pool rack and headed to the next table over from them. She reached into the pocket and placed the balls into their triangular housing. This game is hardly entertaining... Of course this time, and every time in the past, she'd really been after something else. If she didn't get what she wanted, she'd make it entertaining. Already she was considering deliberately jumping the ball over the rail and towards the couple to never be. Or I could tell him about how she's playing her current 'boyfriend' She would except that it would say more about her motivation than her targets. After all, the chances of Deborah having come on to him were next to non existent. She simply hadn't broken him the truth yet.
Instead she got the idea that she might be able to achieve the result she was looking for by actually getting into her game. It'd also make it easier to pass off that she was actually there for something independent of them. Not that Deborah would be fooled. A loud crack filled the room as made her break with excessive force. Once she was done with her cue it'd likely be joining it's split tipped brethren. At this Vespera dropped her ruse and made no attempt to mask her spying. Everyone else was going to be staring as well so it wouldn't matter. She put her hand up to her mouth and gasped, feigning shock. If blacky here doesn't get a clue... I might investigate. By investigate she meant intrude in any manner she could. Prior to that moment Red was garbage, but now she was intrigued.
Ben looked up at the movement seeing someone was waving at him. He wrote a quick 'Excuse me!' on the white board before he looked up to see this new person named Jason waving at him. He smiled and gave a greeting hand gesture. It wasn't that he knew this person. Far from it in fact, he just liked being outgoing. It was easier to make friends that way. He laughed a silent laugh at what Shannon said, but it quickly died down at her sudden and very direct change in attitude. He looked down to her to see her facing another new comer, and anger radiated off of her body. He heard the word murderer escape her lips. He put his arm around her shoulders, being as gentle as he could as to not upset her in a frail attempt at being comforting. When the girl who had been with the African-American man from before came over to consol her, he allowed his arm to slip away and left her in the care of what he assumed to be her friend. Based on how they acted towards one another, they were probably very close friends. He didn't make any drastic assumptions, but he could tell they were very close.
'Oh, for the love of...' Abe silently swore as his train of thought was interrupted by the splitting sound of a clean break of billiard balls from the next table over. More noise pollution. God damn it.
"Yo, would you mind making as little noise as possible? Thanks sweetheart, you're a doll." Abe turned around snapping, pinching the bridge of his nose. 'Relax, Abraham, relax... you can do whatever with her later... grab the throat, back her against the wall, whatever...'
It was just a game of not making a scene. 'Why did everything go to shit when girly left?'
For Vespera, if nothing else, she could get at least get a kick out of ticking him off. Whether or not that was the wisest decision remained to be seen. She circled around the table and made her next connection only slightly less loud. "Pardon me, I should be more mindful of others." The key word was should, and even that was a load of bogus coming from her. This was her domain as far as she was concerned and she intended to do whatever she damn pleased. What was he going to do? Come over and strike her? That'd go over well. In fact, she wouldn't mind an excuse to throw down.
Ben looked over to the man who had been left by the other girl who was friends with Shannon, and stood up to his full height. He stuffed his stuff into his jacket and walked over to the soda machine and bought himself a Sprite, and Grape Crush soda. After picking out the change (which was hard to do with two hands full of soda), he returned back to the pool table, and set the soda down about six inches away from Abe. He extended his hand toward him, offering it as a friendly gesture. He had just bought him a soda after all. Who refuses a free soda?
...Unfortunately for Vespera, the large hunk from earlier came around.
Abe noticed from the side at bear of a man. It wasn't very often that Abe met someone taller and heavier than himself, except for maybe those dudes back on those Boston back streets (whatever happened to them anyway?). But man, this guy takes the cake. Abe leaned back on the pool table and crossed his arms, making sure to tense his muscles in his arms and bs and chest - subtle flexing. Did this bozo come in looking fo trouble? Was he looking to make a scene? Because if he was, Abe sure as hell was gonna give it to him. A boat load. More than this guy can chew, and he probably ate a lot. Look at him. Fucking Fucktardo the Blessed, the gluttonous monk with too much to eat.
And then the kicker.
At first what seemed to be an ass-kissing gesture, the deed was analyzed upon closer inspection. Oh. A soda. A grape soda. How fucking quaint. Abe didn't even care if he meant it that way, or even care if Hungry Howie was looking fo trouble or not. He was going to give it to him whether he liked it or not! Abe looked up at him - a pretty alien feeling, to be honest - and gave him a bitter scowl.
"What the fuck is that supposed to be?" Abraham scoffed as his Boston accent came leaking through. "This some kind'a joke? Grape soda?"
Ben's eyebrow furrowed, and his hand moved from a postion that could be seen as offering to be shaken, to one that was stroking his goatee once again. He looked between the sodas, not making any connection. The sound of this person's voice linked him to being a city boy. So there must've been some customs he wasnt aware of! That was it. Oh, he wished Pink was here. She'd not only fix this, but intimidate him into a corner. He KNEW she could do that too. He had seen it. He gave the man an apologetic look and switched their sodas. He hadn't opened either of them yet, so hopefully it wouldn't make a difference to the man.
With this, Ben pulled his board out of his jacket and wrote a quick. 'Mute, sorry for the mistake.' hoping to quell whatever issue there had been. Truth be told he STILL had no idea what he had done wrong, but he hoped what he had done would keep the argument from escalating any further. He wrote another quick message below that last sentence. 'My name's Ben Voss. Yours?'
Observing the new preceding, Vespera didn't bother to hide her amusement. The large fellow deciding to give a black guy a grape drink. On a few occasions she had overheard stereotypes indicating that they liked that sort of thing. Needless to say he wasn't impressed. Not talking are we? Since he decided to pull out a board even in this potentially volitile situation it was safe to say that her assumption earlier was accurate. For now she watched and waited. Maybe I didn't give the pheromones enough time. She wasn't quite giving up on him changing his tune. Except then her face wrinkled in disgust at the prospect of the shy giant, Ben instead soliciting her. This prompted her to reduce her production a tad.
Abraham waited impatiently for big Hoss to explain himself. But noo-ooo, he didn't say a God damn word; and like some smart ass, quietly switched the sodas around! Oh, fuck a bunch of that. His crossed arms were set at his side, and his fists were clenched. The bone and some of the flesh beneath his skin solidified into condensed stone as subtle preparation for a beat-down. In fact, there was so much going on in this moment, between the adrenaline and testosterone and so on, the effects of the pheromones were nigh unaware of by Abe... who was quickly caught off-guard by the random board out of his jacket.
A mute? How does that justify a racist presumption? That's what he meant, right? But he had to admit, the sound of a mute bitch was good idea. That must have been because a mute bitch made no sound! Ha! No, seriously though, Abe has had boys follow him around doing favors for him in attempt to get on his good side before. Except now he had this giant-ass dude. Plus, he was mute! A guy bigger than Abe enslaving himself to him, who also didn't talk. What could be better? The name was Ben Voss. A little weird, but whatever. His nickname will be Bitch Hoss.
"Bah... fuck it." Abe grumbled as he took the can of Sprite. He had to take what he got, after all. "Friends call me Abraham. You call me... fucking, Adonis or whatever, I don't care. Jesus. Call me Jesus. Right on your little etch-a-sketch."
Ben stared flatly at Abe, a clearly unamused, blank expresson on his face. He knew he wasn't the smartest man in the world, but he just told Abe that he was mute. Damn, high expectations. He motioned to Abe's soda with his hand before looking over the pool table, awaiting him to make his next move. He hoped that Pink would show up soon. She was a bit better at reading him and translating for him what he wanted to say. He didnt know what it was. The only person who could read better than her was his wife. That was only because she could read minds, so she had a huge unfair advantage. He wished he could transfer his thoughts to others like she could. It'd make it so much easier to communicate.
Ben opened the soda, and downed half of it in one go. It was more to try and give the man beside him an incentive to be more open to him. That flew down the drain fast. If he could make a sound he'd be making a sound akin to a sigh. He'll just see how it goes from here. He's nice, but he's not spineless, and he sure as hell isnt going to be calling this guy Jesus. It wasn't a joke, and he STILL didn't know what he had done that was offensive. In a way he was in a state of unamused confusion at why his attempt at a friendly gesture had gone haywire.