[The voice is a tad muffled, hands cupped around a mouth with a cigarette. Once it's lit, Cliff inhales, hands dropping back down. He hardly looks old enough himself to be calling anyone kid.]
[Cliff just gives the snake-kid a flat look. His eyes do keep moving down to stare at the tail. He's seen a lot of weird stuff in his time, but this is definitely one of the weirdest.]
That was a nice try. Now, for your second answer, let's go with the truth, hmmm, shall we?
[The eyes on his tail aren't unusual. Normally, he doesn't say anything about it, just ignores it or makes a joke. Today isn't quite normal, the generally cheerful young man fairly frustrated.]
Girls. And yes, it's real, no, I wasn't born this way, and you're not going to catch some horrible snake plague.
[Well, that saves time on asking any questions besides "Can I touch it?" that Cliff might still have. Though he's certain that asking is going to just result in a no anyway, so he'll refrain. He nods sagely at the kid's woes.]
Oh. That. The curse of mankind since the Big Guy plucked a rib out of Adam. Guess life kicked you one in the teeth, unless you wanna find a gal who happens to be a snake charmer.
[Generally speaking, he doesn't mind the question, or letting people touch his tail. It's kinda cool, after all, and he's not ashamed of what he is. Slowly, he's starting to come to terms with the change itself. It's the other things that are finally starting to weigh on him. Like not having the parts he used to have. Like girls taking his reluctance to get in their pants as a challenge. Not this guy's fault, though. His tail curves slowly, forming an arc to his left.]
You could, uh, say that. Wasn't ever really a problem til this happened to me. Now, it's kind of a thing. And I'm fine without girls that way, thanks. Problem is, they don't really think so.
You're human.....well, humanish. It happens. I'm Cliff.
[He offers a hand, his face lapsing back into the easy grin that's his default expression. His eyes follow the tail's movement and this time, the urge to ask is just too overwhelming.]
So I dunno if this is against snake-people etiquette, but can I touch your tail?
[The handshake is accepted, his grip firm, and there's a bit more of the normal snarky grin on Charlie's face when he hears that question.]
Generally speaking, it's against most etiquette in general, but lucky for you I'm not really a manners sorta guy. Sure, touch away. [His tail's finally done molting, after all, so the scales are a clear, vibrant blend of colors--mostly brown with black spots and two soft yellow stripes running down its length, cool to the touch and generally feeling, well--like a snake.]
I'm not a snake-person, by the way. Just a person. A 'genetic anomaly,' if you wanna use ten-dollar science words.
[Cliff reaches out a slow, tentative hand. The tail feels cooler than he was expecting, thinking that maybe it would be as warm as Charlie's human half. He moves his hand down, going with the grain of the scales, watching the way the colors change. He doesn't feel much different than the little garter snakes he used to catch as a kid during the summertime.]
What you are is incredibly neat. You're like something straight out of Dimension X.
[He's never minded hands on his scales. It feels kinda neat, like fingers scratching your back, sort of. Inoffensive, but friendly. And hey, 'incredibly neat' is close enough to a compliment for him.]
Dimension X, huh? Nah, more like Dimension Z. No third eye in the center of my forehead, see? Besides, those Dimension X-ers are always such a drag at parties. No sense of humor at all.
[Cliff chuckles a little, nails scraping over the curving edge of his scales before finally trailing off. He really needed to get some updated pop culture references. Radio shows that were broadcast from before the kid's parents had even been born were not going to cut it.]
And I'm sure you're just the life of any party, is that right?
[Charlie might have missed the reference, but he'd probably appreciate it. Any sci-fi nut should appreciate the classics, right? Have a grin, Cliff, and just a hint of swagger.]
[The playing along is much appreciated, and is followed by brushing of invisible dust off his shirt, the straightening of his shoulders meaning he's just a hair over six feet tall, now. Snake skeletons do weird things to one's height.]
It's okay. People are often thrown off by my overwhelming modesty before they finally notice my natural charm and stunningly good looks.
Hot damn. You got the whole package there, kid. All you need is a big pile of money to jump in and you're set for life.
[Then he does something that most people charitably describe as "odd." He starts talking to himself, quietly, but still clearly audible. There's the occasional pause and it's clear that he's having a conversation only being heard on one end.]
Hmmm, I wonder if....? Yeah, I'm sure. Don't worry. I know what I'm doing.
I dunno that I'd be doing much jumping, but yeah, I could totally go for the Scrooge McDuck money pile. Big enough to do the backstroke in, and I'd be good.
[The tail makes it a little hard to jump, but he's obviously not offended, as the grin on his face suggests. He doesn't even look super weirded out by Cliff talking to himself, just politely confused.]
Am I interrupting? Cause I can totally come back later.
Oh, uh, that? Don't mind me. It's just a bad habit. I'm not a crazy person, I swear.
[Cliff knew that sounded exactly like what a crazy person would say. Oh well. The kid hadn't started backing (or would that be slithering?) away, so it appeared he was more understanding than most.]
James is... more than a little taken aback by the sight of the boy, but there's no real reason to think that mutations are all invisible like his and Victor's, is there? So he pushes down the initial spike of shock and decides that, really, there's no excuse not to see if the boy needs any help.
He's used to that startled reaction, really. There's always that first look in a person's eyes, always that first horrified 'is it human?' he sees. It's nothing new. Which is why when he looks up from rubbing his temples and sees that same look, he sighs and goes right back to it.
He takes a slow, steadying breath and tries to make sure he's not projecting anything as he comes closer, much more concerned with the boy's evident distress than his tail at this point.
"Strange, because you don't seem to be feeling so well."
"Your powers of observation are astounding." His sarcasm is just a little sharper than usual, a by-product of his frustration. His tail curls around itself, a tight coil close to his body. It doesn't take him long to regret his words, though. This kid hasn't done anything. He shouldn't be snapping at him.
Well, that's proof enough he's not projecting his apparently standard encouragement to like him which... is something. Not much, but he'll take it.
"I imagine you're entitled." Perhaps not very comforting, but sometimes the truth needs to be stated. "Would talking about it help?" Lord knows he could do with getting his head out of his own ass for a little while, helping someone else, or trying to, couldn't hurt.
One of the things the scientists had been able to tell him (one of the few things, his brain interjects, a touch irritated) was that certain parts of his brain chemistry had been altered by his new body. Not that he thought like a snake, really; just that hormone levels had changed, something about inhibitors or receptowhatsits. Mostly, it meant that abilities dealing with the brain didn't quite affect Charlie's the same way. He's still not typically the sullen or snappy sort, though, which may explain a little why his expression softens as the other guy asks him what's wrong.
"Honestly? I dunno. It's....something I've been trying to avoid talking or thinking about for the last two years. You don't have to make the offer, but I appreciate it." He shrugs. This guy doesn't know him from Adam--or the serpent, as it might be. What reason does he have to listen?
James tucks his hands into his pockets and shrugs. He thought his life had been turned upside down, but at least he can still go out in public without everyone knowing what he is, what he does. Maybe there's a bit of there but for the grace of God involved... and a little thank God it's not me, but he actually does want to be helpful.
"Obviously you don't have to talk if you don't want to, but I'm willing to listen. I, um... know a bit about what it's like having your life upended on you."
Aw, hell. This guy probably thinks it's the tail thing. Which it...is, and isn't, sort of. But he's being polite, and friendly, and who the hell else does Charlie have to talk to? Besides. From that last bit, maybe this guy's got things he can't really talk about, too. Hands drag down his cheeks and back up, shoving longish hair back away from his face again. "Honestly, I got used to this whole deal a while ago," he says, gesturing at his tail. "It doesn't really bother me so much anymore, aside from being a pain to explain to people, and getting me a lot of 'oh my god, freak!' reactions. Sort of limits my social life, but hey, isn't that what the internet's for?" He shrugs, looking a little less stressed.
"What's your deal, then, mysterious stranger? Mine is kind of all out here on the table, sort of."
He drops onto a nearby low well, because if they're going to have this conversation he's going to do it sitting. "Well, I guess that is only fair, isn't it?" he asks, smiling sidelong at Charlie. "Apparently I have a power to manipulate people. Their emotions. To make them feel what I feel or what I want them to feel. I-" He stops, frowning, and looks away. "I didn't actually know, that I was doing it. Until recently. When something happened to a friend of mine and... things went rather poorly."
Charlie looks properly abashed. "Dude, sucks. But I mean, if you didn't know you were doing it, not your fault, right?" At least his whole thing was easy. Simple. People knew exactly what they were getting, for the most part. And even before the tail, he'd always been a pretty up-front kinda guy.
"I was still doing it. It might not have been my fault, but it doesn't really change the fact that I've been manipulating everyone around me for probably half my life." James shrugs. He's... mostly past the self-pity, but that doesn't change the facts. Even if he manages to get control he doesn't think he can bring himself to go back to his old life, because he has no way of knowing if any of it was ever real. "So, anyway, if you wanted to talk-" Another shrug. "I'm willing to listen."
Seriously, suckage. Charlie might not be able to really get out much anymore, but at least he knows where he stands with most people. The reaction is always right there on their faces, whether it's fascination or horror, and he knows exactly why. There's nothing but sympathy in him for this guy anymore, his earlier irritation more or less faded. Shrugging back and smiling, he tries for a joke. "Hey, if it makes you feel any better, I don't like you any more or less than I do any other random stranger, so....there's that?"
"That-" James cocks his head and smiles at him, faint but warm. "Is actually quite lovely. Though I've no idea if I'm doing any better at keeping things to myself or if you just aren't susceptible." Either way, it was a definite bonus.
"Well hey, either way, least you know where you're standing. Or sitting. Whatever." It's good to see the other guy smile. Charlie's always been more comfortable around a person once he's been able to make them laugh, and a smile's a good start to that. It's enough, at least, to have him offer a hand the other guy's direction.
"James." He takes the boy's hand in a firm grip for just a moment before letting go, still smiling. "So, I've bared all to you... anything specific that's bothering you you want to share?"
The handshake is a good one, James seemingly unbothered by the whole snake thing now that he's getting used to it. Or at least he's faking it well enough, Charlie decides, settling back on his tail. It's hard having a serious conversation with someone when you're about two feet over their head. It wasn't so bad when James was standing, but sitting means some readjusting, some recoiling of his tail so he can more or less hit eye-level. His own grin is kind of sheepish, a hand running back through messy hair to shove it away from his face.
"It's kind of embarrassing, really. Just...well. Okay, might as well just put it out there, right? I'm a virgin. Not looking to change that anytime soon, especially since I don't exactly have the parts anymore. Not even snake parts, as if that would even be remotely similar, you know? I was a seventeen-year-old boy who'd never been laid when this happened and kind of threw that whole 'meet-pretty-girl-fall-in-love-get-lucky' angle out the window." He's thoroughly embarrassed, hands eventually settling in the pockets of his open hoodie. "The point is...in my head, I'm still a teenage boy, you know? And I've been really careful to never ever put myself in a position to find out if I still have the urges of a teenage boy, if you get my meaning. Because how much would that suck, you know? To have those feelings and not be able to do anything about it? The problem is sometimes people make that difficult. Girls especially. Not all of them, but enough, and it gets really really hard to not get mad when some dumb bimbo is flashing her tits at you just to try and get a reaction out of you that's something other than politely-uninterested."
It's a hell of a speech, he knows, and it all comes tumbling out in a rush. Sorry about that, James.
James turns slightly so he's facing Charlie directly, not notably bothered by the way he adjusts himself with the use of his tail, though he does glance down at it in interest. He's honestly trying to imagine what it would be like, if fate or God or what the hell ever had decided to 'gift' him with that instead of the power he does have.
But then Charlie's actually answering the question, and he owes him the courtesy of his full attention for that, though courtesy ceases to be an issue and true sympathy replaces it rapidly. He... hadn't actually considered that at all, though it's fairly obvious now, and he has to resist the urge to cross his legs defensively at the very idea.
"Christ," he murmurs, before his brain to mouth filter kicks in sufficiently to stop it. "I'm sorry." He means for the profanity, though it could just as easily apply to Charlie's situation. "That's a hell of a thing to have to deal with."
The look Charlie flashes him is half amused, half ironic. "You're telling me, man. So there you have it. I dunno. I've just learned not to think at all about it. Which is a pretty huge accomplishment, when you spend ten hours a day on the internet." Or something thereabouts. Most of his time these days is spent online, playing video games, or drawing.
"That... has to involve a rather excessive amount of creativity." Considering how porn tends to pop out of the woodwork on even the most seemingly innocent sites and searches.
"Dude, you have no idea." Shaking his hair back, he sighs. "So...yeah. That's where you came in. Um. Thanks for listening. Really." He's never really been the type to hold back his thoughts or feelings, but it's a little weird to be confessing things to a total stranger. Weird, but he definitely feels lighter afterwards. All this time not thinking about it has led to a lot of not not thinking about it. Now, at least, it's all been said.
James shrugs and gives the boy a half smile. "Listening's easy, and if it helps at all I'm glad enough." It's not like he can do anything to actually help, sadly.
[You will never meet a teenage boy who really says no to chocolate. Honestly. But you will also never find a boy who's used to the offer, and isn't suspicious. Which is maybe why he gives he a sardonic look before accepting.]
Comments
Edited at 2013-01-20 05:16 am (UTC)
So good of you to notice. I've only been practicing the last couple years.
[The voice is a tad muffled, hands cupped around a mouth with a cigarette. Once it's lit, Cliff inhales, hands dropping back down. He hardly looks old enough himself to be calling anyone kid.]
Nothing. Really, it's all good.
[Or it will be, once we stop thinking about it.]
That was a nice try. Now, for your second answer, let's go with the truth, hmmm, shall we?
Girls. And yes, it's real, no, I wasn't born this way, and you're not going to catch some horrible snake plague.
Oh. That. The curse of mankind since the Big Guy plucked a rib out of Adam. Guess life kicked you one in the teeth, unless you wanna find a gal who happens to be a snake charmer.
You could, uh, say that. Wasn't ever really a problem til this happened to me. Now, it's kind of a thing. And I'm fine without girls that way, thanks. Problem is, they don't really think so.
Sorry for snapping at you. Name's Charlie.
[He offers a hand, his face lapsing back into the easy grin that's his default expression. His eyes follow the tail's movement and this time, the urge to ask is just too overwhelming.]
So I dunno if this is against snake-people etiquette, but can I touch your tail?
Generally speaking, it's against most etiquette in general, but lucky for you I'm not really a manners sorta guy. Sure, touch away. [His tail's finally done molting, after all, so the scales are a clear, vibrant blend of colors--mostly brown with black spots and two soft yellow stripes running down its length, cool to the touch and generally feeling, well--like a snake.]
I'm not a snake-person, by the way. Just a person. A 'genetic anomaly,' if you wanna use ten-dollar science words.
What you are is incredibly neat. You're like something straight out of Dimension X.
Dimension X, huh? Nah, more like Dimension Z. No third eye in the center of my forehead, see? Besides, those Dimension X-ers are always such a drag at parties. No sense of humor at all.
And I'm sure you're just the life of any party, is that right?
Pff, yeah. Come on, how could I not be?
[He smacks his forehead with his hand in an over-dramatic fashion.]
I should have seen it from the start.
It's okay. People are often thrown off by my overwhelming modesty before they finally notice my natural charm and stunningly good looks.
[Then he does something that most people charitably describe as "odd." He starts talking to himself, quietly, but still clearly audible. There's the occasional pause and it's clear that he's having a conversation only being heard on one end.]
Hmmm, I wonder if....? Yeah, I'm sure. Don't worry. I know what I'm doing.
[The tail makes it a little hard to jump, but he's obviously not offended, as the grin on his face suggests. He doesn't even look super weirded out by Cliff talking to himself, just politely confused.]
Am I interrupting? Cause I can totally come back later.
[Cliff knew that sounded exactly like what a crazy person would say. Oh well. The kid hadn't started backing (or would that be slithering?) away, so it appeared he was more understanding than most.]
"Are you all right?"
"Peachy keen, dude. Seriously."
"Strange, because you don't seem to be feeling so well."
"Sorry. Just...stuff. People. Things."
"I imagine you're entitled." Perhaps not very comforting, but sometimes the truth needs to be stated. "Would talking about it help?" Lord knows he could do with getting his head out of his own ass for a little while, helping someone else, or trying to, couldn't hurt.
"Honestly? I dunno. It's....something I've been trying to avoid talking or thinking about for the last two years. You don't have to make the offer, but I appreciate it." He shrugs. This guy doesn't know him from Adam--or the serpent, as it might be. What reason does he have to listen?
"Obviously you don't have to talk if you don't want to, but I'm willing to listen. I, um... know a bit about what it's like having your life upended on you."
"What's your deal, then, mysterious stranger? Mine is kind of all out here on the table, sort of."
"I'm Charlie."
"It's kind of embarrassing, really. Just...well. Okay, might as well just put it out there, right? I'm a virgin. Not looking to change that anytime soon, especially since I don't exactly have the parts anymore. Not even snake parts, as if that would even be remotely similar, you know? I was a seventeen-year-old boy who'd never been laid when this happened and kind of threw that whole 'meet-pretty-girl-fall-in-love-get-lucky'
It's a hell of a speech, he knows, and it all comes tumbling out in a rush. Sorry about that, James.
But then Charlie's actually answering the question, and he owes him the courtesy of his full attention for that, though courtesy ceases to be an issue and true sympathy replaces it rapidly. He... hadn't actually considered that at all, though it's fairly obvious now, and he has to resist the urge to cross his legs defensively at the very idea.
"Christ," he murmurs, before his brain to mouth filter kicks in sufficiently to stop it. "I'm sorry." He means for the profanity, though it could just as easily apply to Charlie's situation. "That's a hell of a thing to have to deal with."
Eat.
Sure it isn't roofied?
Thanks, strange lady.