CRIMINALLY GOOD [open!]

[TAMER MARIE JOHNSON]

"Oh, holy fuckin' shit this is the best pesto I've ever eaten." The Bonnie & Clyde was a masterpiece on a plate. Two crisp and chewy slices of grilled ciabatta lovingly cradled spinach, fragrant and warm basil pesto, local organic chicken breast, tomato, and provolone. Tamer picked the tomato off, since it added nothing but texture (which wasn't even that impressive, to be honest!), but she did taste it just to get the full experience. The rest of the sandwich was just too good to suffer from a slice of tomato that just got washed out from the rest of the shining ingredients.

She wondered if she should pick up another for the road on the way out, but the cannoli sitting patiently on its own plate and the peanut butter and jelly smoothie would fill her up pretty well. But how could she say no to more of an opportunity for this delicious fucking sandwich? Maybe she could just bring one home and try to recreate it for herself, so she wouldn't have to spend a ridiculous amount on buying them every damn week, like she was considering. The hardest part would be getting all of the elements of the pesto right, but that's what she was in school for, wasn't it? She took another bite, chewing slowly and letting everything wash over her tongue. She couldn't hold back a foodie moan.

[Sebastian Thorne]

Sebastian calmly walked through the door of the smartly named 'Mugshots' eatery [why bother opening it when a) you'd just be making the door look stupid and/or broken and b) you could just walk through it regardless], still chuckling about the name to himself as he moved to the left of the door, scanning the restaurant briefly with a small sigh of disappointment. He'd gotten bored today--unsurprising--and had followed an attractive young woman all the way to, and through, a tour of Eastern State Penitentiary. He'd hung back a moment to admire the outside of the restaurant when she'd gone in and he had somehow managed to lose her in the crowd.

"Too bad," he thought aloud as he studied the crowd again, trying to find something he recognized about the girl. She was a spunky little platinum blonde with spikes--a bit more edgy than the girls he usually followed--but she had had this amazing laugh. That was usually the way it was when he decided to be someone's shadow for the day. It was almost always a female. Something physical would catch his eye and then he'd follow them for a bit until something interesting shone through their carefully constructed exteriors. People built walls to impress others but he could see through the cracks--sometimes with a bit of work. He didn't exist, after all, so nobody was trying to impress him. "Poor thing. Her friends were so boring."

Sighing again as he eyed the menu, a loud satisfied moan drew his attention and he smirked as he caught sight of a young lady burying her face in something that, truth be told, looked incredibly delicious but doing so in a fashion that was definitely not ladylike. Striding confidently over to her table, he settled into the seat across from her. It was a bit of a trick, sitting, when the object was real and you weren't. But he'd tricked himself into doing it for the longest time before--Seb shook his head and smiled his best smile as he reached for the cannoli. He doubted the young woman could see him, but a floating cannoli? Then again, she did look really into that sandwich.

Chuckling to himself as he lifted the dessert thing, he found himself wondering how it tasted. Had he ever had a cannoli Before? He certainly hadn't had one After and it had been absolute ages--Aiming for her nose as he waved the thing in her direction, he winked at her, his long arm stretched easily across the table to reach her nose with the cannoli though he didn't actually care if it made contact or not. A floating cannoli alone would probably send her screaming for the hills, after all. "That's a fine looking sandwich," Sebastian remarked conversationally.

[TAMER MARIE JOHNSON]

Pretty involved in her sandwich, indeed. She didn't notice as someone walked in through the door--not the doorway, the solid plank of wood that was the actual door--and started to survey the cozy interior of the cafe. She was tucked away just enough so that she wasn't immediately noticeable from the doorway; the merch bookcase and the hipster Starbucks-like couch that backed up against some strange kind of island in the middle of the floor. Most of the actual hipsters perched themselves prominently with their Macbooks and iPads and things like that right at the bar across from the register. They were douchebags, so Tamer had nothing to do with that bar, with its douchebag hipster stools. The hydrokinetic was too busy rolling some pesto over her tongue, trying to pick out the layers of flavor. Just to make sure it wasn't something that Gordon Ramsay had put on a sandwich to trick her, or something.

She did glance up when she saw the guy moving to her area and talking to himself. But it wasn't like she hadn't just done the same damn thing, so she didn't say anything about it. The warm sandwich was far, far too interesting. Until that guy was next to her table and putting his hands on her precious cannoli. The thing about Mugshots cannoli, Tamer had found, was that they knew how to make the shells really well. The insides were just lightly coated with a bit of chocolate, so that even though the tangy, creamy filling (into which tiny chocolate chips were mixed, adding fabulous texture and extra bits of flavor) was piped in before they were sold, the shell remained crisp and crunchy and delicious. They were the best cannolis she had been able to find in this area, and would not appreciate losing the one she was waiting on very patiently and with great anticipation to some shitty cray-cray asshole.

"What the fuck, you fucking bag of dicks?" she snapped, standing and squaring her shoulders. She met his eyes, her own flashing beneath her furrowed brow. "Yeah, it's a great fuckin' sandwich, full of fuckin' unicorn farts and magic dust, so why not back the fuck off my shit and get some for yourself?" Admittedly, Tamer was not the best person at volume control, but she couldn't make out why just about everyone in the cafe had stopped their noisy hipster chatter and focused their attention on her. She felt no regrets, and certainly didn't even stop to consider the ramifications of dropping f-bombs every other word, so the idea that she was standing and shouting angrily at empty space with a cannoli floating by itself was utterly beyond her plane of thinking.

[Sebastian Thorne]

"What the fuck, you fucking bag of dicks?"

Sebastian frowned at that, arching an eyebrow at the girl seated before him. Not exactly the reaction he'd been expecting, that was for sure. It wasn't until she got to her feet [naturally he rose when she did like a proper gentleman] and glared directly at him that he realized she was talking to him. His blue-grey eyes widened in surprise as a huge grin spread over his face. She could see him? She could see him?! In that moment, he didn't much care that she had just shouted obscenities at him...or that they hadn't made a ton of sense, either. Was she talking right now? The further torrent of profanity rained about him like a foul downpour of capital F's smattered with bits of food-lingo-nonsense but his smile only widened as he released the cannoli to fall back onto the table.

"You can see me?" he leaned to the left, straightened, and then leaned to the right before he straightened again, still beaming as he studied her--albeit livid--face. "Actually see me. You aren't just yelling at a floating cannoli and looking like a moron?" He winced at the way that sounded and then shrugged with a laugh as he looked at the odd looks the other patrons of the now oddly quiet cafe were giving his indignant tablemate.

Apparently if she could see him, she was the only one. "Hallelujah!" he barked, stepping into the table in his enthusiasm to wrap his arms about her in what would've been quite the bear-hug...if he'd been a physical being and his arms wouldn't sort of go through her--if she didn't move out of the way fast enough--thanks to the 'force' of his squeeze. Luckily he hadn't been 'thinking solid thoughts' at the time. But still...Oops. That was probably unpleasant. But it had been such a long time since anyone had really seen him and absolute ages since he'd tried touching anybody. The fact that he had lost control like this and tried to hug a completely pissed off stranger would actually have embarrassed him normally. But at the moment he just couldn't just bring himself to care. His otherwise sort of exciting day had just encountered a whole new level of awesome. Clearing his throat as he drew back from her somewhat awkwardly, Seb took care to exit the table as he returned to stand before his seat.

"I wouldn't worry about the cannoli. Can't exactly get germs on it, now can I?"

[/color] Seb added somewhat sheepishly as he ran a hand through his dark slightly spiky hair. "I'm Seb, by the way, Sebastian Thorne. I'd offer you my hand...but I'm afraid somebody might dial 911 if you act any more crazy." He winked playfully again, smirking as he sat back down in his chair, resting an ankle against his knee as he absent-mindedly jogged his insubstantial foot through the table while he studied her with a smile. "You like food?" A second passed before he dropped his gaze and immediately hissed, "Idiot! Of course she likes food. She just tried to nuke you with her words, you ass." A decade of minimal conversation had given Seb a few bad habits, it seemed, like the apparent inability to keep his thoughts inside his head and away from his voicebox.[/blockquote]

[TAMER MARIE JOHNSON]

"You can see me? Actually see me." The weird cannoli-grabbing guy started bobbing around, left to right, right to left, and her gaze followed, softening into a look of confusion rather than indignant rage. Her thoughts quickly shifted gears from Who the fuck does he think he is, grabbing my fucking delicious-ass food to Oh shit he actually is cray-cray.

"Yeah, of course I can see you. You're just fuckin' standing there waving food in my damn face." She glanced quickly around at the staring patrons, most of whom took the hint and looked away. But Tamer knew they were probably turning their ears up to eleven to figure out what was going on between the two people acting like complete weirdos at the table. "Why the hot fuck wouldn't I be able to see you?" Instead of answering, he launched into an even bigger display of weirdness.

"Hallelujah!"
"The fuck--?"
Tamer did balk as the weirdo lunged at her, but her sheer surprise kept her glued in her spot. So his arms wrapped around her, and then sunk a few inches into her body. At the contact, her whole body shivered. The old phrase about someone walking over her grave passed briefly through her consciousness and faded before she could even process its meaning. "Oh shit, dude, you're all tingly." The breathy words came reflexively, right against the (very chilly, very tingly, very strange) boy's jaw. Once the overwhelming physical portion was over, it was only then that she realized that oh shit, his arms were inside of her, and oh shit, he'd gone through the table. Stood inside of it currently, as he backed off. She watched, already naturally large eyes looking owlish as she watched his every movement as he settled in the chair across from her. She dropped down in the pew-style bench across from him, looking maybe a little dumb, but feeling very excited.

Tamer touched her own long honey blonde hair in absentminded mirror of the ghost boy in front of her. "I wouldn't worry about the cannoli. Can't exactly get germs on it, now can I?"
"I'm less worried about germs now and more about you getting horrible . . . ecto-slime all over my food." She laughed then, the anger and confusion at having her delicious dessert intruded upon dissipating and a playful interest taking its place. While her frequent swearing could make her soft, feminine voice seem rough and vulgar, her laughter was bright and made her face light up. "Tamer Johnson," she replied. "Whatever, dude, these simplebitches can suck my dick," she continued, indicating the small group of patrons around them. One young fellow shifted and stood up from his spot on the other end of the pew-bench. She slid her arm across the table, inner wrist down and palm out, and offered a few fingers for Sebastian to touch, if he wanted. Her skin was already buzzing in anticipation.

Her head tilted when Sebastian berated himself for asking a simple question. "I wouldn't call it nuking," she said with a shrug. "But yeah. I like food. Grew up in a bakery, taking culinary arts at A.I. It's not like. A ghost faux pas or anything to eat in front of you, is it?" She picked up her sandwich and took a bite anyway. She chewed slowly, eyeing it with her eyebrows knitted just a little. "It tastes kind of different now. Kind of . . . I don't know, not . . . minty, but it makes my tongue feel a little numb." Not discouraged, she took another bite. "It's going away a little, I think." Her nose crinkled as it did when she was thinking, as though she had been given the job of analyzing the effects of ghostly presence on the flavors of food, like she might be told to figure out how different woods flavored cuts of meat in unique ways. "So, uh, how about you? You into bein' a total freak at people in cafes, or is this, like, a one-time thing?" The slight tilt of her head and the upturned corners of her mouth softened the harsh words, but maybe it was different for dead guys. She hoped not!

[Sebastian Thorne]

Pleased that the first person to see him [in such a long time that he'd honestly lost track of the last time it had happened] hadn't...fled the cafe screaming in fear or something equally horrible, Sebastian returned her wide-eyed stare with a smile, trying not to allow his excitement at meeting someone he could 'properly' interact with bleed into his usually unflappably calm exterior. He didn't want to frighten her off, after all.

Wincing at the mention of 'ecto-slime', he waggled a finger scoldingly at her. He knew that some people believed that ghosts left behind some sort of...physical trail but he hadn't noticed anything like that in nearly ten years--not from him, anyways. Had it really been ten years? "Shit," he murmured softly, his hand clenching into a fist at the thought. What was it abo--Her voice cut across his self-absorbed musings like a hot knife through butter as he immediately turned his attentions back to her when she added, "These simplebitches can suck my dick."

It had been a very long time since he had been around a girl who cursed this much. He chuckled softly when he noticed a young man shoot her a dirty look before he migrated to the other side of the small cafe. Twiddling his fingers in a cheeky wave, he smirked.

"You certainly know how to clear a room don't you, Ms. Johnson?" Tamer...what an...interesting name for anyone, really, girl or otherwise. He assumed she was already quite aware of that fact and so decided not to broach the subject. She was just an acquaintance after all...and a very...outspoken one at that. "You grew up in a bakery? That sounds amazing! Good thing you aren't one of those girls who hates food, then, that would've been awful. And yes,"

[/color] he remarked flatly, summoning up as deadpan a look as he could muster, the edges of a smile still tugging at the corners of his lips as he added, "I'm terribly offended that you're eating your cannoli in front of me. How rude!"

Sebastian turned his attention to the 'groovy' people at the bar so he wouldn't just be staring at her while she ate in case she wanted to have another 'moment' with her food, watching a young man nodding his head to the music that was screaming from his headphones as he lifted a hand to his mouth, attempting to stifle his laughter at his words and at how completely stupid the guy looked. He was even drumming on the bar with his hands until the girl next to him elbowed him in the side as she 'reached for her smoothie'.

"Good thing it's going away," he remarked casually as he looked back at her again. "Because as far as I know, it's in your head. I don't slime things. That would just be gross." Actually...he was a little offended at that. If he really was getting 'ectoplasmic goo' on things...couldn't he be traced? O-or wasn't he at the very least violating other people's things/spaces by 'sliming' them? Was his existence--which was pretty much completely ignored by everyone around him--somehow negatively impacting others? That was just...unfair, damnit.

Growling softly, he took a deep breath, trying to focus on what she was saying to him. She wasn't scared by floating cannolis--but she a) hadn't realized it was floating and b) was probably more pissed that he might eat it--but he was quite certain he could send her screaming out the door. All of them, actually, the entire cafe streaming out into the street crying for their Mummies and Daddies screaming about nasty horrible things. And he didn't want to.

"So, uh, how about you? You into bein' a total freak at people in cafes, or is this, like, a one-time thing?"

"A little of both, really," Seb murmured as he eyed her hand on the table. His own hand moved toward it before he hesitated, bringing it back down to his lap with a soft sigh. "I have a lot of free time so I spend it following people who catch my eye. Usually I don't interfere. Usually people don't see me. You're just the lucky duck today, aren't you!" he added with a wink. "What about you? Life at the bakery bring you into contact with a lot of sailors...or did your 'robust vocabulary' come from somewhere else?"[/color] Alright, so he was too curious for his own good. What was the worst that could happen here, really? It's not like she could kill him or anything.[/blockquote]

[TAMER MARIE JOHNSON]

"You grew up in a bakery? That sounds amazing!"
"Yeah, totes the best." Unsure entirely whether her new ghostly acquaintance was taking the piss or not, Tamer decided to just assume he earnestly meant what he said. "Learned to make icing roses before I could write my own name. They were pretty much ugly as fuck, but whatever, right?" She also decided to avoid mentioning her round belly and hips that followed such a pastry-filled childhood, as she was sure Sebastian could see that much for himself. Though his sanity may have suffered for being dead, his eyesight didn't seem to have altered any!

"I'm terribly offended that you're eating your cannoli in front of me. How rude!"
"Well, you def. had some kind of affair with my cannoli like thirty seconds ago, so I don't want you getting jelly. Also I just don't even want you sitting there and starting to cry ghost tears because you have to watch me enjoying the fuck out of my awesome sandwich and you can't, like, eat anything anymore, which is basically the greatest tragedy in the universe." She did take the opportunity to have another moment with her sandwich. "I mean, seriously, this fuckin' pesto is basically just the most amazing thing. It doesn't even overpower the chicken taste. And it's just. I wish I could loan you my tastebuds, dude. " The smiling in her eyes and the upturned corners of her mouth never stopped.

"Good thing it's going away, because as far as I know, it's in your head. I don't slime things. That would just be gross."
"I am building my career on tasting shit. If nothing else, I can tell tastes. No, it's not slimy or anything, but you deffo made it taste different. Is that, like, your ghost power? Flavoring stuff?" She took an experimental bite of the cannoli. The chocolate chips were there, the fried dough, the powered sugar, and the tang of the ricotta cheese filling, but none of the not-quite-mint. So it had all faded. "Stick your hand in someone else's stuff! See if they can taste it. Maybe it's just me. If I'm the only one who can see you, then maybe I'm the only one who can, uh . . . taste you." That was definitely a weird concept to really think of. She didn't really know what she thought of being able to taste anyone. Especially someone who didn't even have a body! Did all ghosts have flavors? Was Sebastian just unique in that regard? Maybe he was supposed to be, like, her spirit guide or something. She read a book like that not too long ago, where this girl had a spirit guide or something, but she never finished it. That all seemed ridic, though. How could she meet some rude-ass dead dude in a cafe and have him turn into the thing that was supposed to guide her through life? He didn't even seem to be able to get himself through being in the general public without being a dweeb. Ultra-dweeb, maybe. She frowned a little at Sebastian almost touching her hand, but withdrawing at the last second. Even as she listened to him speaking, she couldn't help but wonder what was wrong with touching fingertips when he'd just launched himself into a hug not ten minutes ago. Was there a set of ghost-rules that said he wasn't supposed to touch people who were still alive? Or maybe he was just not a touchy-feely kind of guy normally. She couldn't say she was either, but the sheer newness of the sensation was a little too much to just let that keep her from exploring the new frontier of ghost-tingles, and ghost-tastes, and ghost-dudes with cute faces and no obvious signs of gross trauma.

"You just follow people around? Like a mega-creeper?" Tamer raised her eyebrows. "What's, like, the most interesting thing you've come across after following people? Sounds like you'd be the best people-watcher, I guess."

"What about you? Life at the bakery bring you into contact with a lot of sailors...or did your 'robust vocabulary' come from somewhere else?"
"Oh, fuck yeah, the bakery was just a front for our secret pirate club in the basement. We had a lime black market. Big toothless dudes would come in with their fuckin' tricorns and big brass buttons and they'd have to ask for our lemon barrrr," she said, drawing out her word like a salty sea dog, crooking one finger and scrunching up one eye. "We had to stop letting them in when we had, like, a scabies outbreak." Maybe her totally flat tone and expert poker face would have fooled lesser opponents, but she had a feeling that Sebastian would see right through her elaborate tale.

[Sebastian Thorne]

"...and you can't, like, eat anything anymore, which is basically the greatest tragedy in the universe."

"I can...think of worse things, shockingly enough," Sebastian muttered dully as he watched her switch back to making out with the other half of her sandwich...or was it another sandwich entirely? Man could this girl eat! Sighing to himself, he brightened up a bit as he flicked his grey gaze back to her. Growing up in a bakery, having little trysts with food in dark corners of otherwise bustling cafes...perhaps for Tamer losing your sense of taste was a loser of a deal.

He found himself thinking of his 'former' best friend Jason. This girl reminded her of him for some reason. Perhaps it was the way she teased? Sebastian couldn't quite place it...but it felt familiar somehow. Nice despite its frustrating aspects.

"I wish I could loan you my tastebuds, dude."

"Ew, no. You keep them, Sandwich Queen. I might make them all...tingly. Y'know? And then you'd be all 'Damnit, what did he do to my tastebuds?! Everything tastes like...mint and old socks!'" He laughed at that. "Seriously, you seem way more interested in that sandwich then I could've mustered even when I had my own sense of taste."

"Is that, like, your ghost power? Flavoring stuff?"

"Yeah, 'the ghost who can't taste tampering with the palettes of foodies everywhere!'" He struck the table with the foot he'd been bouncing up and down on a downswing, causing it to shudder with a dull thump. A smirk played at the corners of his mouth though his eyes darkened as he flexed his fingers. "Hardly, my dear."

[/b] He shook his hand after a moment and flicked his gaze over to her with a warm smile. "But this isn't the place. What about you and your superhuman tastebuds, hmm? Maybe you've got a super power yourself?"

Stretching his arms and legs out with a relaxed sigh as his limbs disappeared into their respective opposing pieces of furniture before he pulled them out again, he refused to rise to the dig about her being able to 'taste' him. There would be plenty of time for that later. Possibly? Honestly, he wasn't sure. Tamer seemed like a nice enough sort...once you got past all the swearing and the desire to consume large amounts of foodstuffs--and this was just his superficial at-a-glance impression, mind! But she would leave Mugshots eventually whereas he would probably stay if she told him she was going home. He didn't follow girls home, after all. He had standards!

"You just follow people around? Like a mega-creeper? What's, like, the most interesting thing you've come across after following people? Sounds like you'd be the best people-watcher, I guess."

"Well it's not really like that--" He started, slightly peeved at the way she'd put it. Did he follow people around? Yes. But he was very specific about the kinds of people and the places he followed them around/to purely because he didn't want to be a 'mega-creeper' or at least, not an obvious one. Not that he was obvious because he was...well...dead and not exactly visible. "Okay, maybe it's a bit like that," he murmured, his cheeks paling in a ghostly 'blush' as he winced. "Mostly I just...watch for something pretty...and then stick around if it gets interesting. To sound like a really shallow magpie. But I haven't seen anything interesting in a long time...unless you count embarrassing Facebook photos? Because there was this one of some girl cross-dressing as this freaky looking dude and she was totally wasted. Poor thing,"[/b] he added with a grin that showed he thought anything but. If her friends were going to embarrass her like that...perhaps she deserved it for not blocking her photos from public viewing.

Listening to her talk for a while, he ran a hand through his bangs and snickered. "Lemon barrr," he repeated, amused as he let the R roll off his tongue. "Scabies...what is that? A case of rabid pirate scabs attaching themselves to your food? Gross." Clearly Ms. Johnson wasn't giving up her secrets so easily. Good. He could use a challenge. Mirroring her hooked finger and squinted eye, he jabbed it across the table in her general direction. "Arrrrgh, matey. En garde~!"[/blockquote]

[TAMER MARIE JOHNSON]

"I can...think of worse things, shockingly enough." Tamer tilted her head. Yeah, that was probably true. She couldn't even imagine what it would be like, floating through life with no real sense of time, unseen by everyone. And then finding someone who COULD see and hear her, and it ending up being some vulgar pudgy girl with a chronic inability to take things seriously. Was this guy in Hell, or what? What had he done to deserve this? She managed to keep her mouth from twitching up with private amusement at that secret thought, but at the same time, the vibe of the air between them changed. As if the air molecules themselves had begun to vibrate at a different frequency, or like she had formed a mental net around the moisture in the air and had begun to shift and shape it to her own will. She hadn't, though. She knew what it felt like, the strange but not unpleasant pressure behind her eyes and in the middle of her forehead, and the warm pinch of muscles at the back of her neck, like she was getting a massage there. It was almost the opposite of how touching Sebastian had felt; he felt cold and tingly, like she was loosening up, and not like something was pressing her. Neither unwanted, but both very weird.

She pushed that change in the air aside. This was her first ghost-sighting, and she wasn't about to let it go to shit because of some dumbo comment on a dead guy's inability to taste, like a total plebe. She laughed when it was called for, and she settled again, leaning more comfortably against the table and tucking her arms beneath her sizeable breasts. Not to entice Sebastian, of course! That was just how things had to be. Though she was sure some of the guys (and maybe even a girl or two, knowing the liberal vegan crowd who came around) passing by would appreciate the low-cut t-shirt. It wasn't even a thing that crossed her mind anymore; it was just the most comfortable way of protecting the layer of pudge on her ribs from the edges of tables.

"What about you and your superhuman tastebuds, hmm? Maybe you've got a super power yourself?"
"Oh, yeah, totes. Like, I can take a tattoo like a champ, and I can bake a mean cupcake, and I can pull of wearing leggings as pants, and, um. Oh, I'm a Pokemon Master." Whether it was her words or the beaming grin, Tamer's round face looked more like it that of a sixteen-year-old than a nineteen-year-old. "So do you just . . . sometimes get solid?" she asked, righting the table after its unexpected kick. The others around them had more or less accepted that Tamer was unhinged and prone to laughing and talking to herself (or maybe they had decided that she was obviously just using a bluetooth device, hidden behind her long hair), but they turned to peer at the knocked-around table. She still ignored them, settling back into her protective stance with her arms against her ribs.

"Mostly I just...watch for something pretty...and then stick around if it gets interesting. To sound like a really shallow magpie."
Visions of Magpie the jailed Batman villain being tempted into sex with shiny baubles she hoarded beneath her pillow while Poison Ivy jealously glared from the bottom bunk made her laugh even harder than she might have without the visual aid. She shook her head, shrugging. "So what pretty thing brought you here today?" She dutifully avoided mentioning the paleness of his cheeks that looked like it could have been a blush on a living person. It was kind of . . . charming that he could still do that much, despite lacking any kind of blood. She hoped, anyway! Bleeding ghosts were just some of the most horrifying things. Gross. Grossorama.

"Oh God, yeah, kinda," Tamer agreed, her nose scrunching. "It's just like. This itchy fuckin' mess; not too good for cupcakes." She brought back her hook-finger and squared off against Sebastian, brandishing her hook with the ease of a shameless silly person.

[Sebastian Thorne]

"So do you just . . . sometimes get solid?"

Taking a break from their sparring match, Seb snuck a glance back out at the cafe and giggled as he saw a young woman turned around on her barstool sucking on the straw of a smoothie with one hand, and videotaping what must've looked rather silly to someone only seeing one side of their intense battle. Shrugging it off as just that, he turned back around until he heard a feminine voice whispering something very provocative and inappropriate-sounding that made him pay a little bit more attention to Tamer's posture. His mouth fell open surprise as he realized that he could see down her blouse somewhat. And if he had a 'good view' then the girl at the bar definitely had a great view too right through him. "What the--," he murmured, eyes narrowing as he got to his feet, listening to the girl draining the last bits of her smoothie as she gazed down at the device with approval. "Excuse me," he said softly to Tamer, not daring to look at her as he got to his feet and marched through the bench toward his 'opponent'.

He didn't even care if this was just a huge unfortunate misunderstanding. To even possibly be doing what he thought this girl was doing was unacceptable enough. There would be no laughing about this later...that girl was going to pay. Now. Glaring daggers at the woman as she turned back around, he skirted her as calmly as she could, though he noted her shiver as he passed too close. "You bitch!" he ground out, pushing her barmate's nearly full drink over, chuckling as the soon-to-be sticky liquid rushed toward her and over the lip of the bar as he listened to her shrieks when he pushed over the second nearby drink. "Stay the hell away from her, you perverted psycho!" Sebastian growled, yanking on her long braid as he passed behind her on his way back to Tamer, grinning as he heard her shrieks of embarrassment as she collected her things and huffed off out of the cafe.

"Sorry about that,"

[/color] he murmured softly, his light eyes meeting hers for a moment before he ducked his head in embarrassment. "Not to be a bother, but could you sit up please? It's--uh--kind of..." He ran a hand nervously through his hair and studied the ceiling as he waved his other hand in the air in the general direction of the 'problem area' hoping that she'd understand. "Where were we? Oh...you wanted to know if I randomly 'get solid', right?" He was panting softly from his little outburst, but he was under control--for now.

Sebastian had laughed as she righted the table. He hadn't meant to hit it that hard. Still, he was pleased he'd managed to attract her attention with it. "I guess that's one way of putting it. I'm not normally solid...or 'visible'...but I can touch things like normal people pretty easily. Although, you could probably tell the difference. I've never really tried touching anybody that could see me before. Just...sometimes people could sense me. But they were all so scared when I--" He cut himself off and cleared his throat, the lights flickering in the cafe for a moment as the air grew colder around him. His eyes were squeezed shut and his body tense as he sought control once again. "Don't freak out," he said softly through gritted teeth. "Don't lose it. Not here. Not with her."

It had just been such a long time since he had even bothered to think about all those failed attempts to reconnect. All those times he'd had to let even the ones he thought could almost hear him go because it wasn't any good. No matter how much they promised to remain calm and open to his presence...they were always so scared when he tried to touch. And for the ones he tried to force...it had been much much worse. The screams. He could remember their screams! "No, I'm sorry! I don't want to scare you. Focus on Tamer...focus."[/color] Seb had been alone for so long, he wasn't even aware that he didn't even think privately anymore.

"So what pretty thing brought you here today?"

Her voice interrupted his brooding and the chill dissipated almost immediately. Was that some kind of prompt for him to flatter her and say 'Oh it was you, baby, of course!'...or did she genuinely want to know. Figuring the truth was better than a lie for the future health of their budding...whatever-the-heck-this-was, he said, "I was following some girl on the Penitentiary tour. I got distracted on the way out and thought I saw her come in here. Obviously not. What about you? Is this just like your food-brothel or something?"[/blockquote]

[TAMER MARIE JOHNSON]

"Somewhat" was definitely an understatement when it came to Tamer's chest and seeing it. But that's . . . why she cut the necklines of her t-shirts, and didn't button the top buttons of her hipster plaid button-ups. It not only managed to flatter her, but it was honestly more comfortable to not keep the girls contained all the time. So when Sebastian's mouth fell open just before he excused himself and began to approach another table, her eyebrows scrunched into a look of pure confusion. When a string of nasty remarks left him and he started throwing around smoothies. She had been so entranced by the ghost boy in front of her that she hadn't even noticed what the girls over there had been doing. Could they hear him? She certainly could, and she wasn't too sure how she felt about this dead boy she had just met rushing in to be her white knight. Annoyance swelled in her belly, and her cheeks flushed, making the light dusting of freckles across her nose and cheekbones stand out in contrast. But she reminded herself that he didn't . . . seem to have a real grip on being social. How long had he been dead? Not too long, she guessed, based on his lack of mullet or 80s mall goth looks, or even one hint of platforms and disco pants. Thank the sweet lord for that much, at least. But how could involuntary solitude wear on someone for even a year? She took in a deep breath and tried to relax her face. Being able to stand up for herself very well didn't mean that she had to lash out at the well-meaning cray-cray dead dude, and not just because she thought he might turn his wrath on her next--in fact, she didn't think that was even a possibility at this point. Well, of course it was a possibility; she didn't know Sebastian very well at all! But she didn't think it was likely that he would politely excuse himself and then begin assaulting someone's delicious drink in the name of chivalry if he meant only to come back and begin terrorizing the only human contact he had had in goodness knew how long.

How do you know he's telling the truth? a voice in the back of her mind queried cheerily. Don't the dead excel at lying? Of course they did. In bad horror films and old Shakespeare plays. This one . . . had an honest face. So did Ted Bundy. But he also had a physical body. One that could be taken from him if he had slipped up. Something to at least give the women fighting him a glimmer of hope, maybe. Sebastian had no such thing. And she could see now that there was a very deep . . . darkness in him. Maybe for good reasons and intentions, but even a naive suburban girl knew that was a very flashy warning sign. One that said something like HOLY SHIT LOOKOUT I AM CRAY-CRAY AND DEAD LOOK.

"Sorry about that," he started, taking his seat across from her. Tamer met his light but lively eyes with her own unsteady brown-and-hazel ones. His downcast gaze showed shame, which genuinely surprised her. But then he spoke again, and she frowned. She did sit up, crossing her arms over her chest and fixing her gaze pointedly at him. Winning a staredown with a ghost was something that was bound to end poorly, either because it was an impossible feat, or because it would just set him off, but she needed to prove a point.

"I can tell bitches off for staring at my tits myself, you know." Her voice came out much more gentle than she had intended. He didn't necessarily deserve gentleness, based on his freaky-ass actions, but that downward glance had been too sincere to utterly write off. "I can at least knock their damn teeth out, Casper," she went on, trying to bring back the earlier mood through gentle teasing. It felt a little more forced, as she was unsure entirely what would happen next; the danger warning had not subsided quite enough to quiet her flight-or-flight. She could almost feel her pupils dilating, like when she went to the damn eye doctors for new contacts.

"I've never really tried touching anybody that could see me before. Just...sometimes people could sense me. But they were all so scared when I--" The lights flickered, just like something out of the bad horror films that voice mentioned earlier. She waited for him to continue on that train of thought, but when he didn't, she didn't press.

"I'm not scared." Her voice halfway to a whisper, Tamer once more put her hand on the table, palm up and fingers relaxed. She just rested it there on the surface, not pressuring or even expecting, but offering all the same. Maybe she thought that Sebastian needed to hear that he had one last connection, one last person with whom he could still form an anchor to the world and everyone in it, but at the same time, she needed to say it, to test out just how true it was. She didn't tremble, her voice didn't crack, and she didn't drop her eye contact. She was telling him the truth. It wasn't just that his mouth gave voice to a stream of consciousness as he wrestled with himself to regain . . . control? A sense of security? Suppression of whatever memories he had brought to the surface? All of the above? She didn't know, but the look on his face spoke far greater volumes towards just what was going on beneath the surface that his filterless thought process had. She didn't know exactly what was going on down there, nor did she particularly want to know--that was something for the dead. But part of her felt just how unfair it was that this weirdo kid had become so unhinged through isolation that he would tackle her into a hug and put up with her vulgarity and the dopey shit like actually talking about taste buds being super powers. Like, honestly, what a shitty deal. "You couldn't scare me that easily," she repeated, a small, almost shy smile tugging at her lips.

"I was following some girl on the Penitentiary tour. I got distracted on the way out and thought I saw her come in here. Obviously not. What about you? Is this just like your food-brothel or something?" So he got through his issues, and bounced back with flying colors. Her eyebrows raised.

"Good fuckin' thing you came in here, then, and got to upgrade to me!" she shot back, the relieved breath leaving her and the sparkling in her heterochromatic eyes betraying her less-than-serious feelings about that turn of events. "Oh, hells yeah. I have to cheat on my kitchen sometimes just to give it a break after all the good lovin' it gets." Tamer, vulgarian and shit-giver extraordinaire, shifted in her seat and looked at some very fascinating spots on the table then. "I'm, uh. I was actually gonna go back and hang out with some video games, if, um, you might be interested in following me around." How much of a let down would it be if she, the only person who could see this motherfucker in the world, was rejected? She peered up at him from beneath her eyelashes, biting the inside of her lip in ernest apprehension. "I dunno what kinds of games you like, but . . . maybe we can play, if you . . . want. Or can, I guess. Yeah, that seems like it'd be a shitload more important."

[Sebastian Thorne]

"I can tell bitches off for staring at my tits myself, you know. I can at least knock their damn teeth out, Casper,"

[/color]

Feeling more than bit chastised, Sebastian sighed, lowering his gaze to the table as he crossed his arms in front his chest, a faint smile gracing his features as he realized he almost wanted to be invisible right now. What was this girl's problem, anyways? She didn't exactly sound upset, but she clearly wasn't happy about what he'd done. Did she honestly enjoy that sort of attention...and from a female? Quickly glancing up at her attire, he bit his lip, his cheeks paling as he resumed his careful study of the table before him. And what about the dangers of allowing people to take such pictures and videos--he wasn't so old-fashioned as to believe that they would steal pieces of her soul, but just thinking of where they could end up was maddening! "There could be people in China ogling at her right now," he murmured softly, a note of horror clear in his voice.

Summoning up his courage, he looked her full in the face again with a smile. "What? Disappointed I chose not to clear the cafe? People's teeth don't exactly go flying out of their mouths at random, you know." He paused, chuckling to himself. "And Casper, really? Judging from the reception I usually get, 'Friendly Ghost' seems pretty far down the list of appropriate nicknames." He was desperately trying to ignore how nervous she looked and did his best to look 'friendlier' somehow.

"I'm not scared."

His eyes widened as she put her hand back on the table. "Liar,"[/color] he snapped not unkindly, not breaking eye contact with her. Did she really mean that? He'd heard it before, of course, but he had never before met anyone who hadn't tried to run. Fear always got them eventually. It was probably only a matter of time.

"You couldn't scare me that easily."

She sounded damned convincing enough. "Well that's just too bad, Ms. Johnson. I hate being the only one," Seb said with a soft chuckle.

Laughing at her comments toward his attempted joke at the 'food-brothel', he eyed her hand with a subconsciously hungry look in his eyes. He wanted so badly to touch it, to take her up on her offer of human contact. Despite her bravado, he was still incredibly concerned with frightening her beyond what he already had. It was sort of like...having your cake and eating it too, if that made sense? He was pleased enough with just being seen and engaging in friendly conversation. Actual contact would just be the icing on the cake, so-to-speak.

"I'm, uh. I was actually gonna go back and hang out with some video games, if, um, you might be interested in following me around." He smirked as she bit the inside of her lip. Nervousness, on his behalf? How cute! "I dunno what kinds of games you like, but . . . maybe we can play, if you . . . want. Or can, I guess. Yeah, that seems like it'd be a shitload more important." Or perhaps it was just her own embarrassment at the potential impossibility of her request.

"I should probably let you know right up front that I have a couple rules," Sebastian said, attempting to look serious for a moment as he lifted a hand and put up a finger. "1) If you have a coffee table and a sofa...I am sitting on the second and putting my feet on the first. This is non-negotiable." A second finger joined the first as the hint of a smile broke through. "2) Your games better not suck or there will be consequences."

Winking at her, he burst into laughter as he gently lowered his hand onto hers, controlling the movement so that his hand would just lay flat in hers, his wrist laying across her fingertips as the tips of his own brushed hers, the air around their 'joined' hands growing colder as he did his best to prevent his hand from sinking into hers.

"I've never followed a girl home before," he admitted sheepishly as he snuck a glance up at her.[/blockquote]

[TAMER MARIE JOHNSON]

"There could be people in China ogling at her right now," Sebastian murmured to himself, obviously continuing along on his pattern of freely sharing his thoughts. She honestly wasn't sure what to make of this habit; though it seemed mostly harmless so far (mostly), it had the potential to become pretty disastrous. Still, she said nothing about it. It would just be more trouble than it was worth to focus on how he spoke before his brain seemed to catch up just by itself. What he was saying, on the other hand, was fair game.

"China is allowed to ogle me, because I don't know anyone in China. They don't know me. I don't give a fuck." She raised her eyebrows, studying his blushing and clearly uncomfortable face. "You've been more friendly than not," she said softly. "I mean, to me, anyway. You're kind of a rude bitch to the other people in here, and probs I'm gonna get kicked the fuck out super soon, but . . . fuck 'em. I think you're charming." Charming may have come out dribbling with irony, but she wasn't lying. He was a good guy; he just needed . . . some rehabilitation or something! Some quality time with someone who could (and would) talk to him regularly. She could do that. She'd happily do that. If he could keep his shit together, then she could see them having a great time together fucking around and exchanging witty battles. She caught him staring at her hand, looking at it like it could bring him back to life, and kept it still, as if it moving would scare him off forever.

He didn't take it, but his gaze seemed to linger. She thought of the way an addict might stare far too long at their substance of choice before finally declining. It was never easy to say no. She still didn't move her hand. She left the offer literally on the table. When he looked serious, she looked curious, tilting her head. "If you have a coffee table and a sofa...I am sitting on the second and putting my feet on the first. This is non-negotiable." Tamer laughed, even as he tried to keep up the serious front. "Your games better not suck or there will be consequences."

"There's...another way to sit?" she asked facetiously, leaning forward just a little (but not too far, wary of his very odd reaction to her choice of clothing). "Oh, fuck you, my games are basically the best. What the fuck kind of consequences did you have in mind?" Her sunny disposition returned in full, restored by the silliness that overpowered the spookiness in her new dead friend. His laughter brightened her even further, and she practically squirmed in excitement as he finally began to accept her offered hand.

She found that she was holding her breath only when his . . . ghost-skin made contact with hers. The jolt of energy and cold made her squeak, and her fingers shift, but she kept it in place. A tingly buzzing extended up her arm, into her shoulder, and through her chest, making her shiver. She kept her eyes locked on their hands, feeling the overworked nerves in her wrist reacting extra to his fingertips, making it almost . . . sensual, and tickley, and chilly, and it made her hand want to clench up in reflex, but she fought it. She felt her lips part just a little as she watched, as if she could see the physical sensations. It did help her focus on picking out all of the strange and mostly new combinations. She could see how the vibrations could freak other people out, but it felt kind of nice. A brief thought of touching him with different parts of her body to see how it felt compared to this passed through her mind, but she dismissed it. Tentatively, she curled her thumb up, stroking the side of his hand. It didn't feel like skin exactly; it was smooth and soft, feeling almost like it could have were he alive, but there was something very wrong but very subtle that made it feel different and alien. It was a little like in horror films, when they showed ghosts walking without bending their knees, and that subtle change being the most horrifying and unnatural detail about them. But while that made her want to hide under her covers for two days, Sebastian's not-skin was just . . . interesting.

She kept running her thumb along the surface of his hand, trying to work out what that little difference could be, even as the chilling air around their hands beginning to touch the inside of her forearm, raising goosebumps.

"I've never followed a girl home before," Sebastian said softly, prompting her to look up. She grinned at him, eyes dancing with excitement.

"I've never had a ghost before," she countered. "So I guess it's just our day of firsts, huh?"

[Sebastian Thorne]

"China is allowed to ogle me, because I don't know anyone in China. They don't know me. I don't give a fuck."

"What?" Sebastian murmured, his eyebrows lifting in surprise as he started, frowning as his eyes narrowed at her. How did she know what he was thinking? Unless..."Unless I'm actually thinking out loud?" he queried experimentally, wincing as he actually heard his own voice and then shrugged sheepishly. "Too late to stop now, I suppose." He'd gone this long talking to himself without actually noticing. And besides, what would he do when she left like the others--or got bored with him and 'moved on'? He snorted at that. A ghost talking about someone else 'moving on' had a certain irony to it, he supposed.

"You're kind of a rude bitch to the other people in here, and probs I'm gonna get kicked the fuck out super soon, but . . . fuck 'em. I think you're charming."

"Hey! Call me old-fashioned, but what that crazy girl at the bar was doing was inappropriate. And besides...she was taking advantage." Of what he didn't articulate but that was partly because he wasn't quite sure himself. While he felt that the psycho had been taking advantage of Tamer by ogling and recording her lechery, he was beginning to recognize that Tamer somehow approved of this attention which struck him as very odd. But he was also a little sore because the girl had been looking at Tamer's...'positive attributes[?]' through him--as if he wasn't even there! It was insulting! Granted he'd spent nearly ten years escaping the attention of the general public in pretty much the same way, he had also never had to face the cruel reality of his 'general invisibility' thrown up in his face like that and it had been...most upsetting. And the tone with which she had said 'charming' hadn't quite escaped his notice. "You make it sound like it's a bad thing, Sprinkles," he remarked flatly, snickering as she took him up on his threats.

"Where I come from...I'dve gotten a medal for that. Or at least a free drink. But you are taking me home, so I suppose there's that...As for 'consequences'--" Air quotes were happening today, it seemed as he hastily bracketed his word with his fingers. "I hadn't gotten much farther than 'Touching all your food' or 'Haunting your Residence'." He winced sympathetically. "Lame, I know. Been ages since I've had anybody to threaten. I'll need some practice."

He 'inhaled' sharply as she stroked his hand, holding his breath as he waited for something to happen. He thought maybe he could feel a slight...fuzziness as her thumb grazed the outside of his hand? But on the whole he was suspicious that it was a much more exciting experience for her than it was for him. He was grateful for that, in a way, because as long as she was having fun with it, she wouldn't be running out the door screaming about crazy dead people molesting her or something ridiculous.

"I've never had a ghost before, so I guess it's just our day of firsts, huh?"

"Guess so," Seb replied, beaming at her. "Ready to blow this joint?"