Random RP Post!

[athousandenemies]

Want to call out Owen on something? Send him a message? Join him on a heist? It's all free game here!

Comments

A thief and an ass walk into a bar...

[notyourdamnpet]

[So we've got two ideas on the table. Continuing from the text thread with them meeting up for lunch or moving onto another thread plot/meme as we like. Any preferences?]

[athousandenemies]

[Hmmmm. Maybe we can start with lunch and then move on from there? We could always transition into something else from there... as one of my favorite writers says, if a scene ever slows down, just have a guy with a gun show up(or whatever calamity or complication you prefer).]

[notyourdamnpet]

[ooc: Sounds like a deal. Hah, how cliche, but it's not wrong. Dump a shark with frigging lasers on its head out of the toilet, cause crazy stuff is in the plumbing pipes.]


[Amrand Split isn't a huge place, but it's a decent-sized restaurant for a proverbial "sandwich" shop. Basically set up like one of those buffet-style restaurants, but dedicated to people building their own sandwiches.

Get your plate, pick your bread (slices, subs, baguettes, boules, buns, etc), and then head for the loading stations. Everything's nicely under a plexiglass shield with very-long-handled tongs, forks, spoons, and knives for you to spear, pick, scoop, and plop your toppings onto your bread.

But please use your own forks, spoons, and knives to doctor your sandwiches on your own plate. In other words, scoop your peanut butter and plop it on your bread, but use your own knife (or spoon) spread it, not the serving scooper. And for god's sake, don't use the ham tongs to grab for the roast beef! Sandwich tact is a thing, you animals...

Zero's just going to hang around outside the place, back to the wall, one foot propped up against the side of the building, body braced with the other one. Normal close for him. A black leather jacket with white-furred ruff over a red t-shirt with faux black paint splatters across it, topping a pair of black jeans and a metal belt. Likely dicking around on his phone while he waits, that oversized black-ringed blue-furred tail held instinctively off the ground in a lazy curving sweep behind him.

With the ever-present RBF of kings on his expression.]

[athousandenemies]

[Hey, will you look at that? For once, Owen isn't fashionably late. Some might consider that a shame, because that's really the only thing about him that would've been fashionable. His clothes lean more toward plain and practical: a blue sleeveless tunic and matching pants, a band with small patches around one arm, a larger bag strapped around one leg. The most notable accessory is the green scarf wrapped tight around his neck in spite of the warm weather.

He counters the RBF with a bemused, crooked smirk as he approaches the building, studying it before he turns his attention to Zero. It's a habit he's never been able to shake. Any time he arrives at a new place, he evaluates access points and security measures. There's not an intention to rob the sandwich shop (there are better ways to get cold cuts and sourdough) but it's a fun exercise. It's only when he nears Zero that he turns his attention to the panda.]

I'm amazed I've never noticed this place before. You can smell the baked bread at least a block away!

[This is normally the part where he'd offer a handshake or a hug, but neither of those feel like they're in Zero's wheelhouse. One ear pivots forward as he holds his arms behind his back, his smirk growing larger.]

Hope I didn't keep you waiting too long. Had to liberate some funds on the way to make sure I could cover the tab.

[He's joking. Probably.]

[notyourdamnpet]

[Like he cares about "fashion" in regards to dress. They both look like normal people outside a restaurant. Well, the scarf in this hot weather is something, but considering they've both got fur, well... kind of a moot point. Zero's ready to get inside in the air conditioning.

Though he notes Owen's quick peruse of the building, he says nothing about it. Why would he? Zero did the same thing when he got here out of pure instinct. Escapees come with that sort of baggage and response.]

It's not like it tries to stick out.

[Less it fall into the sights of some huge-appetite competitive eater group and get raked over the proverbial coals via being eaten out of budget.

Hands in his pockets, Zero rolls his shoulders to push himself off the wall, pivoting on his braced foot at the same time to roll to the side and head for the front door.]

Ugh, sometime you should bother getting a real job, O'...

[One of those grit-under-the-breath comments. No, a desk job from 8-5 is the bane of some people's existence; he gets that. But there's a stability to it that's hard to just throw out the window. He's come to like having a steady paycheck.]

Lift it off some rich prick or a corrupt fundraiser?

[athousandenemies]

[It does sound a little contrary to the usual business model, but his favorite places back home are more of the "hole in the wall" variety, or at least places tucked into small corners and thus never get too crowded. Bede forbid he ever start eating at the trendy spots...]

I can appreciate that more than most people.

[Owen falls in behind him, as they make their way inside, unable to fight off a shudder at the thought of a real job. Even if he hadn't fallen into his "private contractor" line of work, he'd much rather be a performer of some kind, working a crowd and indulging in his creative side.]

No shade to people grinding it out behind a desk, but I'd go nuts after a couple of weeks, tops.

[At that last question, another smirk blossoms on his face and he produces a nice leather wallet seemingly out of thin air before flipping it open.]

Mr. Edward Wilson MacArthur III is very much the former and was being incredibly rude to a poor kid working a hot dog booth just off the main drag. Doesn't carry a ton of cash and I'm not dumb enough to use the credit cards, but it's going to be pain in the ass for him to put a lock on all of them, to say nothing of redoing all his ID cards.

[He flips through it a little more.]

Huh. Works at a private equity firm. So I doubt he'll learn anything from the experience, but I ruined his day. That'll do.

[notyourdamnpet]

[Zero doesn't even have to see the reaction; he knows Owen's back there getting a rake down the spine just at the thought of doing that kind of work.

While Zero has no problem with stealing, he's also the kind that doesn't want to risk getting captured any more than he has to. It's safer to just hunker down with a "normal" job and go through life that way.

He remembers too much of his imprisonment and all the shit that happened in there... A normal life is worth it to avoid that kind of thing ever again. (Not that a performer isn't its own kind of 8 to 5 job and a steady wage.)]

What's that they say about different strokes?

[He glances over his shoulder when Owen produces the wallet, dual-colored eyes taking in the look of it in a few seconds. Nice.]

Lot of rich cats are. Bastards. Give me the cards. I know someone who can make use of those cards even if he cancels them.

[Owen's free to refuse; no hard feelings. Zero lingers in the foyer, figuring they should do all their "dividing up the wallet" spoils out here away from prying eyes and ears.]

[athousandenemies]

It takes them to rule the world, or so I've been told.

[If he'd been injected with truth serum, Owen might admit that it's less about the money and more about the thrill and challenge at this point. That, and sticking it to rich assholes.

[Well, it's not as though he's about to pass up on the money. Cash is cash, and he suspects the bills in the wallet would mean a lot more to him than the original owner. He pulls then out, gives a quick count and just like that Mr. MacArthur's money becomes his. That done, he offers the wallet to Zero, though one brow quirks upward at the offer.]

Hmmm. You have a fence or at least a technologically savvy and morally gray friend. I'm impressed. You're always full of surprises.

[He pauses, nose working up and down a few times as he takes in the scents wafting into the foyer, his stomach growling as a cornucopia of aromas vie for his attention. He's not going to bankrupt the place, but he might do a little damage to the bottom line by the time he's done.]

[notyourdamnpet]

"Power" rules the world. It all depends on what flavor "power" it comes in.

[Strength, finances, contact, intelligence. He's jaded enough to see that and knows that people down on the bottom rung don't matter to those at the top.

The wallet offered to him, Zero takes it and it vanishes into his pocket with the deftness of a pickpocket himself. He spent a good while after his escape running for his life and surviving. Developed plenty of survival skills, including fighting, gambling, and stealing.]

I said I'm boring, not stupid.

[And his "boring" is self-inflicted for reasons. Zero heads into the restaurant proper this time and the front desk greets the two of them with a smile and the quick darting eye to get an eyeful. Probably working to figure out if they were friends or more. Then leads them to a table.

Like any buffet, once they put their drink orders in, they're free to go attack the lines.]

[athousandenemies]

You won't hear an argument from me there. Maybe one of these days we'll have someone holding the power who knows how to use it responsibly.

[Not that he's holding out high hopes in that regard. He's learned that his own people are just as corrupt and manipulative as the humans, thus why he's settled into watching out for himself and the people closest to him.]

Believe me, with some of the people I know? You're not as boring as you think.

[Owen notices the scrutiny, and it only makes his smile brighten and adds an extra layer of saccharine to his "Thank you!" as they make the order. He's paranoid enough to read extra attention as threat assessment, and he's always making himself seem as pleasant and harmless as possible. If he knew otherwise, he'd probably be blushing.

[He rubs his hands together eagerly as he approaches the buffet line, immediately slamming four pieces of bread on his plate. One set is slathered in peanut butter and two kinds of jelly and topped off with sliced apples (paying attention to buffet etiquette the whole time, of course) while the other is piled high with lettuce, tomatoes, pickles, olive and a few different slices of cheese. No meat, however; There are some Emejre taboos even he's reluctant to break. He finishes by putting two carrot sticks on the side, then peers back at Zero.]

Too cliche?

[notyourdamnpet]

If that person's a person, then no.

[Zero's a firm believer that people, while in general often try to be decent, are all selfish scum inside. Nothing brings that out more than when they're raised above other people, no matter what way that happens.]

I try to be boring, if I can help it.

[Though he does have excitement and such in his life, he'll always be the guy who tries to lie low and not make waves, despite his personality.

Zero doesn't bother with the front desk giving them the eye over. He's used to people doing a double-or-triple take at him. So long as it doesn't get invasive or lingering, he ignores it. If it does, however... not afraid to point it out.

Zero follows Owen to the line. There are multiple rows and stations so customers aren't all crowding around one area. Luckily for them, it's not lunchtime rush, so the place's going easy.]

Eat what you like. Fuck anyone who gives you shit.

[Says the guy with a bLT (emphasis respective) submarine on one plate and a bamboo shoot+egg+edible flower sandwich on the other. He's fine eating meat and all, but if he's got the options here, why not enjoy them?]

[athousandenemies]

From your mouth to the Founder's ears. That's all the permission I need.

[He nods, then pours off what could best be described as a vat of blue cheese dressing and several other odds and ends, filling up every inch of free space on the plates. It's an impressive mountain of food, and it might look comical that the wiry rabbit is going to finish all of it. (SPOILERS: This is probably only Round One.)]

[His tray packed full, he weaves his way through the tables in the middle of the dining room, finally arriving at a booth toward the back corner with a good view of both the kitchen and the front door. He hops onto the bench, stretching his legs out across it and steepling his fingers together as Zero joins him. It's only then that he replies to an earlier comment.]

If you really want to be boring, you'd have to change the wardrobe. Khakis, probably a boring single color polo shirt. Maybe even slick your hair back.

[Owen tosses a grape into his mouth, well aware his unsolicited advice is probably not going to go over well. But he can no more control his mouth than keep his fingers out of other people's pockets.]

I kid, mostly. But trust me, people who see you are gonna notice and they're definitely not going to forget you.

[notyourdamnpet]

Uh-huh.

[That one goes right over his head. Zero accepts it's just something Owen believes in, so no comment. Now, that fucking VAT of blue cheese dressing, on the other hand...]

Fuck, hope no one's kissing you for the rest of the day.

[There's a difference between filling up one's plate and looking like you spilled the entire thing into a tank of dressing. Still, eat to please yourself. Doesn't mean it's removed from a wry brow arch and slight "bleh" of disgust from the blue-furred panda.

He's content with his own grouping. Zero can eat a lot if he's in the mind, but he's not a gourmet inhaler. That jack-ripped body of iron muscle under his clothes didn't come from packing down mounds of food.

Sliding into the booth, he sidearms his trays into place easily enough and picks up the bamboo+. Might as well try the instinct-preference first.]

Hm?

[Zero arches a brow over his mouthful, eyelids drawing a little in a somewhat flat expression.]

No shit. How about I dye my fur red and white while I'm at it?

[He knows all too well that, despite his preference for a life-down-low, his very looks and nature basically drag attention to him no matter what. Like the front desk just a few minutes ago.]

[athousandenemies]

[Owen glances to the blue cheese then shrugs.]

Hadn't really planned on kissing anyone... but should the opportunity arise? There's a reason breath mints exist.

[Like the rest of his people, Owen has the advantage of a super fast metabolism. Worst case scenario? If he overeats he can just do a Shift or two and burn a ton of calories. That's half the reason he's loading up right now. You never know when a quick change might be needed.]

[He makes a point to swirl one of the carrot sticks in the dressing before taking a bite. His other hand rubs his chin, studying Zero intently for a few seconds.]

If you really wanted to blend in, I'd say go gray and black instead. Raccoons are a wee bit more common and you could probably pull it off.

[There's a wry smile plastered across his face when he says it, but a note of sympathy filters in. After all, he can't help but notice how eyes in the room linger on Zero for one reason or another. Owen's certainly not jealous of that attention.]

There aren't a lot of red pandas where I live, so Pandora deals with a lot of the same crap. I imagine it gets old, especially for you.

[notyourdamnpet]

You'd have to down a whole damn package to clear that stuff out.

[Seriously, Owen. The guy drenched his food--his plate--in the sauce! Zero has to wonder if he's actually going to taste his sandwiches or just textured blue cheese sauce. To each their own, but still... purpose defeating.

Zero rips off another bite from his sandwich, crunching on the bamboo shoot and meat. Next time, he's adding some pepperoni for some kick. Bamboo's good, but it's kind of bland in comparison to other things.]

Nice. Then I can go walking around smelling like chemicals for the next week.

[The dripping sarcasm should be enough to say he's got no intention of following this course of action. He's too proud to go about changing his appearance, even if it might help him blend in better.]

Yeah, it gets pretty old real fast. And I'm nowhere near as nice as her about it.

[Stating the obvious. His mismatched eyes don't help much with the anonymity either.]

[athousandenemies]

[Oh, it's not that bad. There are a few clear spots here and there. It's sort of like an Italian dip. But with salad dressing. ...okay, the rabbit has some weird tastes. He did avoid the PB&J in the blue cheese assault because he's not a monster.]

If the right person asked for a kiss, that might be well worth the effort.

[Not that he'd admit it out loud, but it's not as though he has a lot of prospects for a makeout session lately anyway, so he may as well enjoy the meal.

[He turns his attention to the veggie sandwich, taking a bite as he listens. Some of the veggies are only so-so, but the tomatoes and cucumbers have really nice flavor. The dressing doesn't overpower it but it's teetering on the edge.]

No kidding. You're a bit more... direct than she is.

[Another bite, a sip of his drink. The eyes are attention grabbers, Owen would concede that.]

I admit, that makes me curious. In a perfect world, what would you like to be doing? While a cubicle is nice and anonymous, you don't strike me as the kind of guy who'd be content doing that for the long haul.

[notyourdamnpet]

[Okay, despite what he said about 'eat to please yourself' and all, if he saw Owen take a bite out of blue-cheese-dipped PBJ, his stomach would've done a clench and he's not sure he'd be able to keep his lip from twitching. Ewugh. Luckily, they avoided that event horizon.]

It'd be a decent defense against someone who didn't bother asking.

[He gives a one-breath snirk in sarcastic amusement at that idea. Zero actually isn't someone that does a lot of kissing, despite the somewhat-common sex his life has in it. Kissing, not to the same extent as hugging though, means more than just an outright fuck. Well... kissing outside of sex that is. Kissing during sex is just part of the hot and heavy and gets swept along with the rest for the ride.

Working at his sandwich--has to turn it quick to catch an egg slice that almost dropped out the back--Zero only acknowledges the comment with a small noise.]

Some idiots miss when you're vague or hesitant. No one misses direct.

[Saves on time and effort when dealing with assholes.]

Not sure. I don't remember anything about my earlier life. Everything's pretty much filtered through my escape now.

[What he might have liked to do before now has no bearings on the overwhelming desire to "not be captured again", despite the fact he's comfortable enough to settle down. Any dreams or childhood interests are completely wiped away. There's no knowing who he used to be any more.]

[athousandenemies]

[It would have been grounds for an early end to the meal, that's for sure.]

I hadn't considered that bonus, but I'll take it. Not as though I'm fighting off throngs of admirers, mind you, but still.

[For all his bluster, Owen is a bit more of a romantic at heart. He's not opposed to having no-strings-attached fun, but he also likes the idea of a nice date that ends with a chaste kiss. Or maybe a not so chaste one, depending on his mood.]

Exactly. And in the process of trying to spare their feelings, you end up hurting them worse by prolonging the whole mess. Leave as little room for interpretation as possible.

[He takes a few more nibbles, taking the extra time to formulate a response. He's got a good poker face, that smirk remaining in place, but his ears betray him, drooping and splaying out. He'd be the last one to argue against the idea of keeping the past tucked away in a corner.]

That just means the sky's the limit. You get to figure out what you're good at and roll with it.

[He takes a quick swig to wash everything down, then twirls the straw in the glass, ice cubes clinking against the sides.]

It'd probably be disappointing anyway. Like... you wanted to be a centerfielder for a baseball team or an astronaut. Something impractical and silly.

[notyourdamnpet]

Heh, you? I thought other girls and guys loved the thievish rouge.

[It’s light-hearted sarcastic teasing at its best at least and Zero crunches down on the sandwich again, eyes closing for a moment to simply savor the flavors in his mouth. He’s not gourmet, but he also isn’t living off ramen and canned peas at home either.

As for romantic… the fuck is that?]

Right. Don’t drag it out and don’t lead into it. Just say what you want. Or act on it if you have to.

[Because while “shut up” is obviously direct, it’s not got the same effectiveness as a clenched fist to the jaw.

Zero glances up at Owen again, nothing the other man’s ears falling like that. Hmph, rabbits and their expressive ears. Quirks of the species, right? He easily ignores it and polishes off his first sandwich. Fast eater.]

What I’m good at isn’t the same at what I’m doing.

[He’s good at sex and fighting. Surviving. But his day job is definitely not either of those things. Yet the first two things aren’t going to pay his bills with any sense of regularity, safety, or comfort as the last one. So it’s a compromise of sorts. His boring day job enables him to do the sex and fighting at his leisure. … Okay, so maybe the sex part isn’t always “at his leisure” and more “fuck my life” happenstance.]

I don’t think about it.

[His past and the “what if’s” that might have been. It’s a pointless endeavor.]

[athousandenemies]

They do, but alas, that's one of the downsides of keeping a low profile. I can't show off all that dastardly charm. Suppose if it got really bad I could shift and flirt that way, but it's not quite the same.

[At least he knows better than to bring up that end of things with Zero. It already seems like there are a lot of things he can be more open with him about, but heartache isn't on that list.]

And if it doesn't work out, at least you're not carrying around weeks or months of stress and anxiety. Just like ripping off a bandaid, right?

[For all the food layered on his plate, he's taking him time with it, and he's a little particular about the order. It's the veggie sandwich and the a la carte vegetables first. And you have no idea about the struggles of rabbit body language on a daily basis. Not only do the ears betray his true feelings, but he's also given to a panicked stomp every now and again. It's mortifying.]

Ah, so the work supports the other stuff. Fair enough.

[As he plucks a piece of broccoli off the tray, he tilts his head to the side once more, giving Zero a look as he remembers their earlier text conversation. Between that and Zero's earlier teasing, Owen yet again can't help himself.]

You suggested I could rent myself out earlier today, but I think you'd do way better than me.

[notyourdamnpet]

Kind of figured that out myself.

[A roughish thief may woo as he needs to escape or make a deal or outcome in his favor, but charming someone for real on downtimes can lead to… issues. Especially someone living on the downlow. Zero’s not about to go asking prying questions about that either. Owen’s business.]

Right. Life’s too short to spend dicking around something.

[Bamboo sandwich polished off, he gets to start in on the BLT, with its emphasized layers. The salty savory of the bacon clashes well with the water crisp of the lettuce and the juicy bold of the more-than-usual tomatoes. It’s a great combination, one he has too rarely and will savor now that he has the chance. (And duh, of course he doesn’t get rabbit body language struggles—he’s not a rabbit.)

Not that he won’t snort in sarcastic amusement if he ever sees Owen do that kind of stomp thing…]

Yeah. [Work at what you can tolerate and do decent-to-well at, in order to make the way for you to the things you really like (and/or have to deal with). It’s the stability of the thing. The question arrests his next bite, mouth hanging open for a few surprised seconds before Zero clicks it shut with a frown.] Been there. Done that. Occasionally still do if I need some quick money.

And yeah. I’m good at it.

[athousandenemies]

Yeah. Comes with the territory.

[Complications. That's the word Owen always thinks of when he lets someone get closer. Anything more serious than a quick fling means revealing his secrets and potentially putting someone at risk. His former colleagues would call it weakness, though he's not that harsh. It's just a luxury he can't afford at the moment.]

Not that any of us follow that advice one hundred percent of the time, but so help me, if I ever reach the point where I analyze every decision in minute detail I'm gonna kick myself.

[He's going to do his best to avoid stomping in Zero's presence. He'd probably never hear the end of it...

[The slowness of his next reply gives Owen a chance to snag a few more quick bites, though those telltale ears perk forward as Zero speaks. He shovels in a few more bites, the eating a nervous reaction to the way his "joke" backfired. Once he's polished off the last of his celery, he awkwardly clears his voice.]

Um. Sorry if I brought up a sore subject.

[He's never done that specifically, but he's no stranger to using any means at his disposal to sealing a con or getting out of trouble. Not many of those are pleasant memories for him. His usual instinct is to cut the tension with a joke, but that hardly feels right.]</small

[notyourdamnpet]

Mm-hm.

[He just hums his agreement around another mouthful of sandwich. Letting people get close means letting yourself get put into a precarious or vulnerable position. The way Owen feels about that is more or less the same way Zero does, though he’s more concerned about putting himself at risk than someone else. Doesn’t care too much about other people. Still, some exceptions are starting to pop up.]

Don’t thieves normally make detail judgments before going after something? Stealing takes more attention than just beating someone up and running.

[At least, that’s the kind of idea he has in regards to the type or robbery and conning Owen does. Particularly the latter one, which requires a lot of analysis into decisions. One wrong one can slip up the entire operation, if not also blow his cover.]

You didn’t know.

[Because Zero never told him; so he isn’t faulting the other guy any further than the normal tepid response. It isn’t sex itself that he has a problem with; it’s that the experiences in the laboratory… they’ve left him with… issues… revolving around sex. And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy intimacy, even if it wasn’t always wanted. Which is another issue. Personal.]

You do what you need to to survive and keep free. That’s what matters. If it means taking a half an hour shower, fuck, fine.

[athousandenemies]

[There's a nagging fear at the back of Owen's mind that the people he cares about don't feel the same way, no matter what they've been through together. Honestly, Pandora's the one person he trusts almost completely. And even with her, there are some things he wants to spare her. It's part of the reason he likes talking to Zero. Though he's hesitant to open up, he doesn't have to worry about being delicate around him either.]

[He takes another swig from his tea before waving a hand in the air.]

See, that's work. I'll take all the time I need to case a target and suss out my strategy. When I'm not doing that, I prefer to follow my instincts. You've gotta be spontaneous sometimes, you know?

[He leans forward, voice lowered.]

Let's not forget, today's meal was paid for by an impulsive decision.

[That last comment rings true. Whatever it takes. That's been his motto, especially after he ended up running solo. While his one rule is that he never wants to hurt someone, the notable exception is himself. But he's convinced himself he can handle all that. He's got his own personal demons in that area.]

Don't I know it. Best not to dwell too long on the bad shit.

[He polishes off the last bite of his sandwich.]

And it's rare, but sometimes the things we have to do aren't entirely terrible.

[notyourdamnpet]

[Zero won’t criticize that sort of thought process. Considering he doesn’t trust anyone, that’s likely the very reason his mind operates like that. He’ll never be able to trust the other person trusts him, so to protect himself, won’t trust them first. Kind of a self-eroding cycle, but it’s kept him safe so far and he’s not likely to try and change it now. There are some superficial “trusts” that he does, but those are usually on things that don’t matter.

Like trusting Owen to pay for the food instead of bailing at the end. Or trusting the restaurant not to have poisoned the food. That kind of shit. Not that he’s going to bring that up and have Owen figure out that he’s secretly got a paranoid streak buried away in his character.]

I’m sure that impulsive decision was only possible because you’ve had a lot of practice casing targets and sussing strategies. Now you can do it on instinct.

[He’s all for following his guts when planning or hesitating aren’t practical. Spontaneity and deliberation are two things you have to know how to work with and apply to the proper situations. And he’s had experience in handing both of them just as well.]

Guess that depends on your definition of “terrible”. We ‘have’ to pay for this meal or we’ll be running from cops.

[Or at least the fast-looking serpent host at the front door.]

[athousandenemies]

[It's funny that they'd probably understand each other in a profound way, but the damage in their respective pasts keep them from opening up. At least it's seen them both this far and kept them alive.]

True. You pick up little tells here and there, figure out who the most likely marks are. But you're still jumping in without a safety net. Who's to say my target doesn't have some hidden skills? Hell, even a Gift that would catch me in the act? Less of an issue with humans, but still. It's a calculated risk, but a risk all the same.

[And he doesn't mind taking a few risks every now and again. Makes him feel alive.]

[Though his expression shifts a bit at the comment about paying for the meal. He looks surprised and... almost a little hurt?]

Hey, this isn't a big chain with insurance. I don't like hitting small places unless they're doing shady stuff. There are standards at play here.

[He glances back at said serpent, who is trying really hard to act like he's not watching them off and on. Not like he suspects them, but almost like they're the day's entertainment in some way.]

Besides, the host seems nice. I'll have to leave a generous tip.

[notyourdamnpet]

[Ironic, really. Pain can relate to pain, darkness to darkness, but both of these instinctively shy away from themselves by their own nature. It's the bright and happy that mingle, as that's been proven to be safe and enjoyable/ The opposite, despite it logically being the optimal way to heal and understand, reacts to what it knows, and thus turns away. Sad.

Maybe someday, a crack will let in some light.]

Guess it's not black and white now is it. You can't truly tell what will happen until it does. That's why you learn how to react. If you predicted right, lucky you.

[Kind of a meta conversation topic hiding in the confines of a logical topic. Zero bites down on the last half of his second sandwich. Almost time to go for seconds. There were some seafood options he'd eyed the first time around. Shame to let that go to waste since it's right there for the taking. Lobster and crab aren't cheap. Buttered garlic bread...]

It was just an example. I wasn't saying you would.

[Zero only bothers with a small shrug to roll off the hut feelings. It was the most immediate example and one they'd both relate to. Simple as that.

A small "heh" slips out and the barest tick of a smirk at the corner of his mouth.]

Generous tip, huh. Cause he seems nice or cause of some of that roguish charm?

[athousandenemies]

[It doesn't help that they have different ways of coping with all the baggage. Zero refuses to let people get close, while Owen hides the pain behind the mask of a cocky, laid back thief. It lets him hide the scars. And if people don't like him? They don't like the persona. No harm done!]

At the risk of sounding like a cheesy motivational poster, nothing's even guaranteed. The only way to fail for certain is not to try. I don't really want to spend my life wondering what if all the time, y'know?

...ugh, despite my best efforts, that was saccharine. At best.

[Wow, has Owen somehow managed to clear off most of Mt. Buffet already? Amazing. Thankfully the place isn't busy enough that you worry about someone sniping a table if they both step away from it. ]

Oh. Right.

[He does his best to push past that moment of weakness.]

You'd be amazed how many of my friends feel the the need to tell me to behave or leave everything where I found it. I'm a professional, darn it.

[With regards to that last part, Owen smirks, one brow quirked upward.]

Can't it be a little of both? Besides, it's kind of a thankless job. A little dull, even. And it's easy to be generous with someone else's money.

[notyourdamnpet]

[Zero's not naive enough to think Owen's ever shown him his "real" image behind the persona he wears. He hasn't wanted to see it either; it's not his business. One less 'risk' to Owen's safety is fine by him. What they have is fine; he knew enough of Owen and vice versa to be comfortable around him like this.]

Unless not trying means you succeed in avoiding the danger.

[Just to be a stubborn devil's advocate. But his tone and the small shrug of his shoulders at least show's Zero's in agreement to that pearl of wisdom. It's also a "hand wave" regarding the slip of emotion. Not Zero's problem and Owen doesn't have to worry about him "doing" anything with it.

Wow. He really did clear that entire plate off. Must have the metabolism of a power engine on full throttle. Zero slides out from his chair and moves to his feet, heading for the buffet bar, figuring Owen would be along with him.]

But you're a professional kleptomaniac sometimes. Their warning's warrant.

[Time for some seafood. Buttered hot roll, crab filling with chives. A warm sweet roll for the lobster and lemongrass. Shrimp salad on two slices of honey wheat. With the normal bamboo, lettuce, tomatoes toppings adding to them.]

Pandora told me that theater you're in does productions. Are you on stage or backstage?

[athousandenemies]

[It's a comfortable distance, and it's not as though having the persona in place keeps him from enjoying his time around others. This just keeps his more emotional moments confined to a small circle of people.]

True, though every so often fate loves to be an asshole and force your hand as far as that goes. But there's something to be said for keeping your head down and staying safe.

[Sure enough, Owen hops up and strolls back to the buffet and he's a little more selective this time. Avocado, lettuce and tomato on toast with mayo and a dash of honey dijon, a few more veggies (san blue cheese this time) and a generous helping of a pasta salad side at the end.]

Ah ah ah, kleptomaniac implies I have an uncontrollable desire to swipe things. I do it because it's fun and it beats working a desk or a counter.

[Though, on that note... somehow, Owen manages to both beam with pride while his ears droop in embarrassment at the question.]

Er, well... I've done both. I can work a lot of production positions, so I fill in where they need me. Every so often one of the kids will have a play that's short an actor and I'll get roped into the part. I don't know that I'm very good at that...

But magic? We don't do them that often, but I love the magic shows. I know it's old fashioned but there's something about seeing the look of amazement on people's faces that I never get tired of.

[notyourdamnpet]

Whatever works for you. Play it safe or charge ahead. Pros and cons to both. Blah blah blah.

[They're saying the same thing in agreement so he's good with wrapping that topic up and giving it a break while they go for their refills. The place is still serving stuff up fresh, so that's a positive thing.

Though from the looks of it, if something goes past one stage of "fresh", it's taken back to the kitchen and then cooked or processed into another stage. Case in point, one pan of shrimp on ice is taken away, but they just got a new batch of boiled-shrimp gumbo sauce for a topping. Food extension.]

Point taken.

[He figures both of those are the reason behind the rich bastard's bad luck in footing the bill for their meals. Fun to stick it to the upper crust and Owen doesn't have to pay out of his own pocket, which would require a job otherwise.

Zero finishes his next two plates (one with the seafood sandwiches, the other with some open-faced salad sandwiches) and heads back to the table. Their drinks had been refilled on their trip away. Nice of them.]

Jack of all trades, huh. [A brow perks up.] You live with kids? [Yes, that's an "ewugh" sort of drop in his tone. Zero has no patience for children. Doesn't have patience for teenagers either. Or anyone generally.]

You got the sleight of hand bit and misdirection down. That's all it takes to make an expert magician. And stage presence, which you have.

[Now, about Pandora's commentary on Owen's figure and abs. Hmmm, to drop that bomb or not. Decisions decisions...]

[athousandenemies]

[It's a remarkably efficient process. There are lots of little details Owen picks up on that impress him, in no small part because he's always observing the little details. That part's hard to shut off. That's why he's already noticed where the till is, where all the security cameras are located and where potential blind spots can be found and how often the busboys patrol the dining room. The way they don't let anything go to waste is impressive. He's pretty sure the croutons for the salad are yesterday's bread at this point.]

[Which he's going to find out, because how can he pass up a bit of Caesar salad when it's just sitting right there, calling to him?]

Indeed, though I like to think I'm master of a few as well.

[At the mention of the kids, he shrugs.]

Actually? They're not that much younger than me. Teenagers, mostly. It's like a little enclave of theater kids, so it's not nearly as bad as it could be. Some real talent in there, too.

[Hopefully he's not painting a target on himself by saying this, but he puffs his chest a bit at all those compliments. Maybe with a hint of embarrassment lurking beneath the surface?]

It takes a little bit more than that, at least if you're doing the big illusions. But if you don't learn the alphabet, you can't use the big college words.

[...it would probably be entertaining. Mortifying for both he and his friend, but really entertaining.]

[notyourdamnpet]

You’d know.

[Zero’s only heard of Owen’s skills, though he has little reason to really doubt the guy beyond his normal “everything’s suspect” mindset about others. It’s not issue to him if Owen’s lying or not, though he mostly leans towards the guy telling the truth. That wallet he’d forked over earlier definitely wasn’t his; and it was pretty high-end too.]

Not surprised.

[The guy says “kids” and yet it’s a theater of teenagers. Figures, considering they’re living there and putting on productions. It’d be difficult to do so with a bunch of anklebiters running around making a wreck of things. Does he figure there are probably a few smaller kids around? Yes. It happens.]

If they can make some kind of living off it, go for it.

[Either by the straight or crooked way. He doesn’t know the plights in that theater and he’s waffling between it being a legit operation or something like those orphanages in movies putting on productions. The latter one’s pretty sad and pathetic, but it’s at least a way to make ends meet. Zero’s been in very rough life situations himself.]

Uh-huh. [He rips into one sandwich, lettuce and a strip of crabmeat vanishing behind his teeth.] So you do the whole stage thing too? Not just some street magic.

[Entertaining yes. But he promised Pandora he wouldn’t say anything. Tempting as the idea is, Zero knows when to keep things shut. He's a prick, not a fiend.]

[athousandenemies]

[At that, Owen crosses his arms, that wry smirk making another appearance. He may have his doubts in other areas, but his skills at the less than legal stuff? He knows how good he is.]

I've told you as much. But I guess I'll have to put on a demonstration at some point, just so you know I'm not all talk.

[There were younger kids every so often, but those young families didn't tend to linger too long. The theater provided more of a brief respite than a permanent home. Plus you've got to have a certain mentality to share space with younger people who are also performers. It's... not the most mature environment most of the time.]

They get by. The magic shows and concerts are our bread and butter, but the plays are fun and they draw their own little crowd. None of us is going to be buying Rolexes any time soon but it's enough to get by.

[Owen's picking a little bit now, eating a little slower than before. It's due in no small part to the fact his ears perk up at the question, and he can't tamp down his smile. Owen doesn't get a chance to talk too much about his somewhat obscure passion.]

Oh yeah. I do a little close up magic, slight of hand stuff and all that. But the illusions are where it's at. A little bit David Blaine and a whole lot Houdini, with some comedy sprinkled on top for good measure.

[notyourdamnpet]

[Everyone's got to have their skills in life. They can fall into either side of the legal system too. Just depends on what you use them for. A safe cracker can be just as legal as a car painter can be illegal.]

That's your call. That wallet's decent proof.

[As for the other things he's bragged about, well... they touched on Zero joining him for a heist or con earlier, so it's currently on the table. As far as legal stuff goes, "Zero" doesn't exist in the world. (So don't ask how he got his job or what goes on with all that entails.)

As for the theater and younger kids... yeah, he'll be surprised when/if he ever goes there. In his head, it's like a theater on one side with a weird hotel complex on the other side. That or people living in the dressing rooms and rafters...]

That works. But you know, sometimes those things can get popular. You might be in a news article if you're not careful.

[It's only partially teasing. He doesn't believe in fairy tales and shit like that, but a "rags to riches" change isn't an impossibility for anything. Just requires the right place at the right time with the right people.]

Who?

[He's seen some stage magic before, a passing glimpse on the TV or phone. But considering he only remembers a few years of his life, much of that "general knowledge" people build up over their lives has been erased completely. (And it's not like you have conversations of magicians every other weekend with any regularity.)]

[athousandenemies]

[And don't think Owen hasn't considered a sideline as a locksmith a time or two, for that matter. But a few people have just enough suspicions about him to make a legal side hustle in that area difficult.]

That's easy. I'm not going to dismiss it as beginner's stuff, but it's simple. With the right gig?

[He leans back in his chair, putting his hands behind his head.]

I can see the lock of amazement and, dare I say it, admiration on your face already.

[There's also the matter of things getting a little lonely on a longer gig. Most of his friends disapprove of his career. Pandora would always be game to join him, but he goes some nasty looks when the idea comes up.]

Hey, if some talent agent wants to come by and scoop me up with a big contract? I wouldn't complain. And if I went on the road, think of the opportunities that would open up! I bet there's some interesting stuff in and around those fancy hotels in bigger cities.

[Not that Owen really thinks he'd be leading man material, at least not in terms of his acting.

[But oh damn does he looks crestfallen at that response. It's like Zero landing a punch square to the gut, before he bolts forward, leaning across the table and regarding Zero with an incredulous wide eyed look.]

Harry Houdini. The Prince of Air. Master of Handcuffs. You don't know about the greatest magician and escape artist who's ever lived?

[He sighs, shoulders slumping. In Owen's eyes, everyone should be having those kinds of conversations. And he forgets not everyone is a nerd for entertainers who've been dead for almost a century.]

I patterned most of my act after him. Updated for modern audiences, but still...

[notyourdamnpet]

[Well, it’s honest work? Mind you, Zero’s stubborn undercurrent emphasis on a “real job” and “honest work” is purely out of his desire for self-preservation and safety. In no way does it come down to notion of morals. He’s seen enough of the world in his short memory to not give too much shit about something as flipflop as “moral” when it comes to people and life. The fact he occasionally nudges Owen like that could actually be construed as a subconscious want to protect the guy. Aka: somewhere in his cold, guarded heart, he kind of maybe cares a little.]

Seriously?

[Most people can’t fathom Zero’s face with any emotion other than scowling, glaring, shouting, and hot RBF. Still, Owen’s creative; no denying that. Maybe he can. It still means Zero just cocks a brow at him in some sarcasm. Can’t remember the last time he ever admired someone in his recent memories.]

Like I said, I’ll think about it.

[And goes back to his food while Owen contemplates the idea of getting famous. He rolls his eyes when the hare goes from accepting a big contract to hitting the road to dumping it right back into his thieving ways. And the guy wondered why Zero called him a kleptomaniac before. Chewing a few times, he finally swallows down his bite.]

You know, the point of a fucking contract is so you don’t have to steal shit.

[Purely hypothetical, of course. But Zero’s little spit of exasperation changes to an almost affronted look when Owen reacts to his question like that. He jerks back on pure instinct when the guy suddenly bolts forward across the table, body turned slightly so one shoulder’s moved in a deflective position (protectively putting his heart further away from Owen). One hand even snapped up with his claws out and his teeth bared in a threatening snarl, hackles rising. It all happens in a flash, a second or two, before nerves and reality catch up to him and he eases back down. Sorry, Owen, but Zero still has… conditioning issues.

The scowl’s still there and his ears flatten though. That doesn’t change.]

Why the hell would I?

[Sounds like the guy’s someone famous though. Guess he’ll have something to look up when he gets home. Still… Owen’s reaction whittles at him and he heaves a small sigh before going for his drink. Shields up again, but he deliberately voices it.]

Maybe I did once. I don’t know. [His mismatched eyes linger on nothing for a bit.] I’ve only got two or three years in here. [And gestures towards his head.] Everything else is fucking gone.

[His past. Who he was. What he knew. His real name. Any family. His home. What he might have learned growing up. All those bits of trivia and culture people pick up as they grow up. While his motor skills and act-on education remained (like mathematics and reading prowess), things like history and art and entertainment were wiped. He had to relearn how to drive a car again—though it’s amazing what adrenaline and survival instincts can do to your learning speed.]

[athousandenemies]

[He'd be bored to tears in a regular job if he was ever convinced to give it a try. That might manifest itself in any number of risky behaviors to fill that void in his heart. Assuming he didn't get fired a few weeks in for being, well, Owen.]

[He'd also be lying if he didn't say he liked teasing Zero ever so slightly. Partially because it's one of the ways Owen communicates that he likes someone's company, but also because Zero's responses are so damned different from what he'd used to.]

Just say the word and I'll cook up something.

[He just scoffs at Zero's response, nibbling on a carrot stick. The same cocky smirk remains in place as he waves a hand in the air.]

Have to? No. But the challenge is irresistable!

[And it's good that he had that moment of levity, because... damn, he was not expecting that reaction. His eyes dart immediately to the claws and one hand slaps across the scarf and, perhaps more tellingly, his neck. His lavender eyes go wide as his ears shoot straight up, and one foot thunks against the linoleum before he can stop it. It takes a while for his heartrate to slow down, well after Zero's tamped down the his reaction.

[It only gets worse as he listens to him speak. He'd picked up bits and pieces before, but to have it all laid out like that? His ears fall, slowly drooping in front of him. Damn. His first instinct is to reach across the table, to put a gentle hand on Zero's shoulder. But that works for his other friends. Not for him. His hand stops short, lingers a moment before dropping to the table. The first word he ekes our is just shy of a whisper.]

S-Sorry.

[He's not sure what else to say. Not even sure if he should say something else. He can't help but feel maybe there are some things Zero's better off not knowing. He's got his own baggage and sometimes wishes he could forget everything he went through in his younger years... but still. He's only just getting to know Zero. A heart to heart just feels... wrong. That look of confusion remains in place, along with an awkward silence, until he finally clears his throat, sinking back into his seat.]

That's got to be tough.

[He winces as the words escape his lips. It's obvious, unhelpful. Borderline stupid. He defaults to a time tested Owen Escape Strategy: He avoids the subject entirely.]

I don't know if it'd be up your alley, but I've got some of his performances. If you ever wanted to see them.

[Not much better, but he's flailing a bit. Ancestral fight or flight response hasn't gone away completely yet.]

[notyourdamnpet]

Don’t even fucking go there.

[Though his tone’s quiet and dipped in sarcasm, the words come out on one slinked-together breath gliding between his teeth. A guarded threat, a defensive warning, a dismissal waive. Take his pick. Probably a mixture of all of those things. It’s not directed at Owen personally, but more sounds like the kind of thing someone to pulls out of their verbal repertoire when the situation warrants it.

Whether or not Owen gets the implication, it’s not so much his past Zero’s telling the rabbit to piss of with, it’s the apology and the underlying pity / sympathy that comes with such condolences. And that instinctive attempt to reach out and pat him with that reassuring, comforting hand. Picked that little thing up from Pandora, Owen, or is that just your heart of gold showing through the normal rouge persona? (Side note: don’t even jest about wanting to forget the past—major trigger.)

Of course, it’s impossible for the panda to miss Owen’s reaction as well, a pinball of reflexive responses from the both of them. From Zero’s blunt “who?” to Owen’s disbelieving question to Zero’s defensive retreat and back to Owen’s instinctive defense. They have things in their past that still keep tight grip on them even now. Whatever happened to Owen at the neck to whatever happened to Zero’s personal space. It’s not just the natural fight or flight response from Owen’s species either. Zero’s not stupid enough to fail at recognizing the signs of trauma. He’s familiar with them himself.

But asides from seeing it, recognizing it, and silently acknowledging Owen’s got issues of his own, Zero makes no other reference to it beyond his breathed growl to get off the topic. If he doesn’t want to talk of his own issues, why the fuck would he want to talk about Owen’s? Take a shovel to the brief upheaval and bash the ground back down into a smooth graveyard once again. And then it’s all over. Back to fake normal.]

You could probably talk me into it. [Zero goes back to his food like the abrupt eruption never even happened. One side effect of having you past ripped out is that it’s really easy to just throw experiences and events and other shit out the proverbial window. Pretend it all never happened because now? Most of it never “did” already. Why bother lingering?

(As his brain’s subconsciousness goes about frantically seizing every memory Zero’s making and shoving it under lock and key out of abject terror of losing himself again.)

Mental issues. Fun. ] What is it, old VCRs or that theater entered the digital age by now?