12486/Oh, /that/ is him

From United Heroes MUSH
Jump to navigation Jump to search
Oh, /that/ is him
Date of Scene: 23 November 2020
Location: Interior - Fulham Hotel, Brooklyn
Synopsis: Priss meets Constantine. They talk and eat takeout and all that fun stuff.
Cast of Characters: Constantine, Voodoo




Constantine has posed:
Constantine has rented a room by the week in this place, for as long as he happens to be in New York. He's never precisely sure where the bastard fates will drag his arse. For now, it's here and he's casually burning the non-smoking policy with a match and dropping it in a wastebin in his room before opening the door to step outside, making sure the fire's out at least.

He's his usual self, trenchcoat and cigarette, hair tousled, eyes a little bloodshot. Still, he's not as insensate as he seems and he feels a little magickal twinge from a nearby door.

Voodoo has posed:
Priss is on her way to get changed after having come in from work an hour ago, dressed to dance. Which mean sequins galore for a stripperiffic exotic dancer cotume. Her plan? Jeans, half top and throw her hair back, and order takeout and enjoy it. That plan's thrown into chaos by the smell of smoke, though she grumbles and hasn't had time to change yet. Instead, out the door she comes with her arms folded over her chest and she's staring at the door. Suite 15.

Oh wonderful, her next door neighbor's smoking in here. Great. Just...great. Calling 9-1-1 is a last resort really, but she knocks on the door and sighs. "Hey , put the fire out, I can smell smoke from my suite"

That done, she lingers by the door to Suite 15. Because....she really wants to chew out whoever is pulling this shit. Dealing with a pissed off Priss may not go well for anyone, she does though have a Chinese takeout b bag in hand though, she picked that up on the way back here.

Constantine has posed:
Constantine opens the door calmly. Sequins and bosoms and pretty brown skin. Well, it definitely beats the view in the other dump hostels he'd been checking out. "Calm down, luv, just a little flicker an' a flame, is already out, as you can see," he says, holding up a smoldering trash can.

"Didn't mean ta disturb, furthest thing from my ever-lovin' mind, truly and for sure. I see you got yerself a wee bit o' takeout there, is the Chinese 'round this place good? They have Szechuan? I like a bit o' spice meself."

Voodoo has posed:
Priss flares her nostrils and sighs. "The flame is. The trash can isn't" she says and is sorely tempted to give him a mind slap for that and being an idiot. "The trash can goes up, we all need to run into the street and I'm nohhwhere near ready for that thank you" Priss smarts and sighs again, giving Constantine a once over, trying not to smile. of course it'd be Constantine. Reputations precede him.^R
"You" she says taking one hand and unfolding it. "Are Constantine. I know your reputation" she adds, waving a hand to him, her other hand clutching the Chinese takeout against her assets. "I don't know if the Chinese takeout's any good. First time I've had any from that place but yes they got that sauce" Priss drawls. "I'm not sure on it really, but after a long day, least I could do. Not that I wanna sit in the lobby and eat though"

$RYeah she's...trying to angle to bring food into Constantine's suite to both eat and keep an eye on him. Sure, she's younger, but she sees a lot of her old WildCATS team members in Constantine. And thus, Priss doesn't want anything bad to happen o him. Plus he's got a certain rough style...

"I swear I've seen you at my club before" Priss says and gives a genuine briliant grin. "Over in the corner, pint of alcohol, smoking away yeah? And you enjoying the view?"" Priss winks.

Constantine has posed:
Constantine runs a hand over his chin as the sparkling and voluptuous young lady manages to work her way basically into his apartment, pushing it open wider to let her get in. "Seems ye got the advantage on me, birdie, ain't much o' normal folks what know me by name. But it ain't no surprise you ain't just regular folk, yer aura sparkles all most as much as that pair o' shorts you wear at the club. Yeah, I been there a few times, no sin in enjoying the offered show an' I alays pay me own way."

He closes the door behind them, B"But sure, please, c'mon in, me casa an' all that."

Voodoo has posed:
Smooth, Priss. Smooth. Thank God Grifter's not here to see this. Or Zealot. One would just con Constantine for all he's worth, the other would try to kill Constantine for the right or wrong price. Priss nods and grins again with a snort. "My aura, huh? Sorry I can't take that off while dancing, but you enjoy the show. Shorts are a must have. That's like you going on stage in that coat of yours" she grins and casts a gaze around for somewhere to both sit and set food down. "Oh you're one of them magic types huh? Shoulda known by your rep Constantine" Priss adds with a laugh, but there's no malice in it.

"Mi casa? This is some shit castle, really. Least you got me next door to keep you from going stir crazy looking at the walls" Priss nods and sets the bag of takeout down. "So what're you up to, and is your rep accurate?Con man, magic type, drinks like a fish, smokes like a chimney? Mine is....kinda tricky.

Priss feels safe opening up to him, fellow magic types and all that. Voodoo magic in her case, true, Voudun traditions

Constantine has posed:
Constantine raises an eyebrow and slumps into one of the chairs in the dingy room, "Ya don't say? I'da never guessed, you seem all straightforward an' simple-like," he winks. "Yeah, most of it's true, some of it's not, but the part that ain't is probably the nice bits. I spin magick, yeah, and I tell lies and I drink and I smoke an' on occasion I trick the devil and get a reward for it. Nasty little life, but it works fine for me. I could read more 'bout ya if I try, but that can get kinda invasive, even if I likely seen ya clappin' cheeks already, so why don't ya fill me in on these interestin' bits?"

Voodoo has posed:
"Fill you in?" Priss asks with a matching raised eyebrow. "Nah, read me. I've been through hell and people reading me ain't that bad"

When you're a WildCATS member then not much gets worse. Priss is all been there, done that.. Plus she can always mentally blast Constantine if he gets too invasive to, as a last resort get the hell out of my head type thing.o "I could get a good read on you but I'm not sure what I'd find out. Not sure if what I find out would scar me for life" Priss offers opening up the bag. "Rice, chicken, duck, there's good selection of sauces and side dishes here. Meant to last me a week, but what the hell, why not break into it now" she adds pulling those little boxes out and setting them on said table.

"So the stories are true. Alright I don't need to dig in your head then to find out. You told me. Points for you then" Voodoo nods sagely. "And no trying to kill me with a chopstick either, ya hear?"

With that she tilts her head at a box and laughs, "So, about me. I'm Priss. I got talents for magic, and I can dance. That's the easy version. The harder version is, well...let's see. I'm not normal. I've more gifts than just magic and my looks. Good as both are. I can do things with people's minds in a way, I've seen shit most people wouldn't believe. I ain't normal.

Yeah she did give the go ahead for Constantine to get a read on her.

Constantine has posed:
Constantine lights a match and holds it out in front of him, letting the flame dance at the tip. He whistles once, twice, three times and the light dance from orange to blue, then to green. He's looking through the frame as he examines her and his voice comes out with a trancelike cant to it, husky and distant. "Halfbreed serpent snake claws fangs Zealot Grifter so much blood so much blood teach me teach me where are we kherubim daemonite devils angels robots gods so old so old family broken broken family..."

He inhales sharply and the flame flies into the back of his throat, swallowed down until he lets his breath erupt again, "Yeah, that's...that's some fun stuff you got in yer head an' yer heart, luv. You seen yer share an' you came out alive. SOmetimes all a body can ask."

Voodoo has posed:
Priss watches with a nod, "You found me out huh?" she says with a seriousness and gives his mind a nudge, "You're good, screw the reputations, you figured me out. But what about you though?" she asks, hands shaking a little as she lifts out a foam plate of chicken, rice and veggies, and takes up chopsticks. "So now you know if you try anything I can kill you several dozen ways" Priss adds, eyes glittering. "Which boils down to, don't piss me off and we're good" she says, though she's wary. Constantine read her like a book. Which has her a tiny bit rattled but she's in his suite, eating Chinese takeout. Which is what some would call a bonding experience.

"It wasn't that invasive. Now it's my turn if you don't mind me digging through your mind a little" Priss offers between bites as she grows claws and spears the chicken and veggies, eating them off her claws because...it's easier. And Constantine already knows what she is, so.

"You want any?" she asks. "I mean you got a certain style to you, rough and ready to go at a moment's notice. That's who you are. It's helpful with you. You got a reputation to keep upand keep people you don't want getting too close away. You remind me of Grifter, if he ditched his guns, smoked and used magic, but..." Pris says nudging the table over a tiny bit toward Constantine. "See, I see a lot of my former team in you. Which should anger me. It doesn't. You are a strange one that's intriguing, you're this,.." she she says, talking between bites. "You're this mysterious trench coat wearing bad boy reputation wise, but the real guy is so much more. Mind if I dig in your head while we eat?" Priss asks again.

Constantine has posed:
Constantine takes a few of the offered bits of chicken. He isn't the picky type and is more than happy to take free food anywhere he can get it, "Not bad," he says, chewing it thoroughly.

"Ain't s'much a style as just who I am, luv. Ain't nothin' calculated 'bout it, although I suppose my preenin' days o' misspent youth contributed a bit to the overall flavor," he grins. He kicks up a foot, leaning back and assessing the sequined stripper badass with an attentive eye, taking in the details, reading her body the same way he read her soul.

"Go ahead, poke around a bit. Just be careful. I got a few things in there what bite."

Voodoo has posed:
Priss nods and looks thoughtful beffore stepping into Constantine's head. "You are all about a balance, a man of mystery, you exorcise demons and you dabble in things that are both good and bad. And yes, you understand people" Priss nods, eyes closed and breathing calm as she's digging around and then pulls back out of his head. "I didn't go too far in, I just wanted a general feel of your mind. I got that" she says and chews on chicken with a nod. Sequined stripper badass, indeed, and he's not seen her fight in the flesh...sequins, even, but Priss opens one eye and gives Constantine a quiet, knowing smile.

Constantine has posed:
Constantine returns the smile. He's not entirely sure what it's about, but he's learned that ninety percent of doing things is making everyone think you know exactly what you're doing or saying, even when youd on't. "Dipping in too deep is a good way to get bogged down. Quicksand everywhere, luv, gotta keep a head above it,' he says. "You seem to have sidestepped a few quagmires of your own, kinda ended up out on your own, same as me," he says. "Other than some of the things I get up to in Sunndale, o' course, but that's just me doin' a favor for an old friend.

Voodoo has posed:
"That" Prriss sighs. "Is a long story how I manage to dodge quagmires and ens up alive, but given you've read me, you have a pretty good idea. I swear, if Grifter shows his face I will have words with him, and tell him where to shove it" Priss huffs and distracts herself from thinking on the WildCATS problem, by way of, yeah, more chicken. A lot more food too, as she nods. "Favors. Favors are good, long as you don't end up being trapped by them, too"

See she's young, but she's a smart one.

Constantine has posed:
Constantine smiles, "Favors are one o' the main things I deals in. I collect 'em like tradin' cards, bubblegum an' all. Nothing better to have in your back pocket when you're in a jam, providin' you know how to get 'em from them what follow through on their debts. So, not me, since I'm a notorious welcher," he winks.

Voodoo has posed:
Pris nods keenly, "Yeah, favors are a fine, fine thing, really. Till you come across someone who is a favor debt collector. In which case you, especialy you, are in it, right?" she nods. "I got one huge favor in my pocket. Not that I have pockets, mind. Just slide favors in my soles of my dancing shoes" she says. Probably not where people assume her favors are stored, mind, but....

"Used to work for the Halo Corporation, really. They want me back, I keep them at arm's length but can call on them if I need them. I refuse to go back until I can find a way to work alongside certain people" Priss huffs. Oh yeah the whole Grifter/Zealot t/lack of trust/strained relationship thing? She's still not over that. Not at all.

"Notorious welcher? That" Priss giggles. "Horrible stage name by the way. You might want to work on that a little" she adds breaking into the box of battered chicken balls. Apparently, she got everything on the menu.

"Though I could teach you a few tricks if you help me out?" she offers, too. Sure, Priss. Sure, teach /Constantine/ of all people tricks. Like that'll somehow not go badly for her?

Constantine has posed:
Constantine rolls his tongue in his mouth, "Halo Corporation's big time money. I don't know much about 'em, but they seem like the untouchable types that usually end up with ties to I/O and SHIELD and Checkmate and all those others what play James Bond in the shadows. I thought about bein' a spy, once upon a time, but even I don't lie that much," he grins.

"I don't mind a little quid pro quo, darlin'. You show me yours and I show you mine, that kinda thing?"

Voodoo has posed:
Not quite the best words for an exotic dancer, but Pris is more amused than insulted. "Alright, you said a favor for a friend in Sunnydale huh? Maybe I can help out because...honestly...I just..." Priss says studying Constantine, "Not sure you'd do well in my profession, so helping you gain employment as a dancer is out. So" she giggles, "I can help you out with favors and friends, if I get to teach you a few things" Priss offers. See. Priss is being nice.

"Yeah Halo Corporation's big money, and...you're right" she says leaving it at that. No, she's not going to tel Constantine every little secret of Halo Corporation. Not in the least, not when Constantine already saw her with the team. "They are, well, you read about them, it's mostly true. I consulted for them. Like I said I can call on them for things. If I really need it I could call Grifter in on something, but honestly? My pride won't let me. And if Zealot shows up, run away, run away very very fast and pray she never finds you" Priss says carefully....as if saying that will somehow let the Kherubim assassin know Priss is talking about her. "I had a nice office, a fine salary, and I took a leave and am an exotic dancer. And I help people out as well. I could go back but..." Priss shrugs, "Why would I?"

With a smirk to Constantine Priss ponders his quid pro quo remark. "You show me yours, you get to see mine. You know my profession, I ain't on the clock" she grins.

Constantine has posed:
Constantine takes a drag on a cigarette, "I've heard of the Zealot. She's got a reputation, kind of one of those myth things, like valykyries or the boogeyman. Things I know that usually end up real and like to crunch on your bones real good. Don't you worry, I got no urge to spit in the devil's eye, I'll keep my head low an' let the storm pass on by," he says.

"I got friends here and there, too. Never know what I might pull out the ol' hat. Sounds like you might end up bein' a friend, too, which I like the sound of, an' not just cause you're easy on the eyes. Although, I ain't gonna lie, that helps, you are the walkin' definition o' fine," he grins.

"You tell me what you wanna see an' I'll show it."

Voodoo has posed:
"I know her, kinda" Priss admits. "Zealot is...kind of scary if you're in her way" she admits and sighs a little. "Friends. They are useful yeah, but they come with strings, and benefits. Yeah in the way you think, too"

More chicken gets eaten with a wink, "I'm the definition if fine? You mean I made it in the dictionary? Bout time" Priss offers and grins. "So I'm the definition of fine. Where's that leave you at?" she wonders aloud, looking amused.

""Well, what can you offer me?" Priss asks. That's such an open ended question. More of a test for Constantine, too come to think of it.

Constantine has posed:
"Oh, I ain't nothin' but unworthy o' your attention, I won't pretend otherwise. Girl like you deserves filet mignon and dancin' at the Ritz. Way better than a scrummer like me. I'm just hopin' you take pity on a poor old soul and maybe let me bask in your glory and drink your bathwater a bit," he winks.

"See, that kinda question could get me in a lot of trouble. If I'm a lascivious bloke and I just rip down me fly, I'm gonna make a fool o' meself floppin' me John Thomas on the table. On the other had, if I don't an' that's what ya wanted, I just lost myself a chance at one o' the most beautiful dames I ever seen."

Voodoo has posed:
Priss laughs softly. "The ritz, and fillet mignon?" she asks and gives Constantine a 'what the fuck did you just say' look. "Boy, I grew up in the bayous. It's crawfish and a good time, get it right. I'm not some high society girl. I grew up poor, got poorer, dance to earn a living" she says and nods. Way to say she's not high society. She really isn't, even if she is well off.

"I'm not saying I do or don't want your member, but that's one bit of ya" Priss says with a knowing grin. "You're smart realizing you can end up in trouble with that question. Smart" Priss grins keenly looking pleased as she smirks and nods. "So you think I want to go to bed with ya? If that's how things go, then yeah, but I'm not a hooker. There's a huge difference between dancer and hooker, ya know" Priss grins. "Nah you ain't in trouble, don't worry. I've not clawed your head off yet"

That's literal in her case, too.

Constantine has posed:
Constantine shakes his head, "I know you ain't no hooker. Not that there's a thing wrong wit' it, ladies got to make their nut in this world, same as any bloke, and there ain't no problem wit usin' yer good looks to get ahead. No worse than a footballer bein' in good shape usin' his strong legs to get a big contract, eh? Bodies be bodies."

"I only meant that you're a beautiful woman an' nothin' more. Rich bitch wouldn't have talked ten seconds t'me, although I've known a few prone to slummin' now an' again.

"We're just gettin' to know each other, that's all. Do I wanna sleep wit' ya? 'course I do, I ain't mad, you seem like ou could sex a snake right out its skin. But I don't make no demands or no expectations on a lady's company. You just wanna play platonic and do a few rounds o' gin rummy, I like cards, too."

Voodoo has posed:
"Rich bitches slum it to be relateable" Pris says with a knowing nod. "Hey, anyone wanna give me a contract, nah" she says and looks optimistic with a knowing laugh and looks just a little relieved.

Priss shrugs looking to Constantine, "Yeah we're getting to know each other. Who knows. You may get that chance to sleep with me, but...ya gotta earn it if you wanna go that way" Priss nods keenly. "You wanna play cards with a telepath? Really? I thought you were smart, not throwing your cash away"

Constantine has posed:
Constantine grins, "Putting up mental illusions to trick psions was one of the first things I learned to do as a dirty magick kid hustlin' dice in the back alleys o' Bristol. You'd only see what I wanted ya to see, and you'd have to guess if that was the truth or not and, even if it was, while you're readin' my mind, my fingers might be switchin' out what cards I got. Stage magick is often as good as the real thing, if you know how to misdirect a mind."

Voodoo has posed:
"Yeah and we can both do illusions so" Priss grins,"We'll br doing a dance figuring out who is doing illusions" she adds. "Yeah but I can blast your mind, that'd sort your illusions out real quick" she shrugs and grins more. "Yeah misdirecting a mind is good, but.." Priss says. "I've not got cards on me though. You're a hustler. You got cards that aren't marked?" she asks, last two words accompanied by a mental nudge too. "I won't play with marked cards"

Constantine has posed:
Constantine grins, "You could blast my mind, but how do you know I didn't block it an' just made it look like I blasted your mind, or put a time delay in there so that I had least had time to switch things out before you walloped me OR that I lost the game already, then rewound time about fifty seconds and redid everything to make it so I won..."

"See, ain't no end to it. Which is why I don't bother cheatin' at cards, most the time. Take the fun out of it. And only an amateur marks cards."

Voodoo has posed:
"You shift time, people notice. That's why too" Priss states matter of fact with a knowing grin. Looking over to Constantine, Priss grins more. "Yeah but marked cards are what people think of. You dig in my mind, I'll just go claws and fangs and all that. I don't take people digging in my mind well, I'm hunted by way way too many folks" Priss says simply, leaving the food untouched for a moment.