1389/A (Donut) Hole Where My Heart Used To Be

A (Donut) Hole Where My Heart Used To Be
Date of Scene:	10 July 2017
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Cypher, Daken

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Cypher has posed:
After being given a clean bill of health, Doug decided the first thing he'd do was take a walk. He has a cap on, and sunglasses, to try and minimize being recognized since his parents still live in Salem Center, but he used to LOVE Hole in One. So that's where he goes. He's going to buy a big box of donut holes, and enjoy them over the course of the next few days while he figures out what his next move is going to be. And then someone will probably eat them all, just like they always used to--

Still. He's got his hands on the counter, and he forks over some money. "Large box of honey dipped donut holes and a cup of coffee. Please." He gives a little smile.

Daken has posed:
Things have changed slightly, in the time since Doug has been to the shop last. Sure, they still make and sell the best doughnuts around, and honey-dipped is among the top sellers and top favorites in the area. People even come from larger cities and quite a long distance away to grab a box. It's part of what makes the place special.

Though of course, people are the easiest and most frequent things that change about a place, and it seems there's a figure here that wasn't around before. He's too memorable to have been; he's easy to pick out and difficult to forget. As he sees Doug enter the shop, he gets to his feet and takes his empty coffee mug -- a proper one, not a disposable -- back to the counter while Doug waits for his order. They're good at multitasking, which makes sense as they've been around for so long, and someone's taken his cup to fill it up again.

This man looks like he just stepped out of a fashion magazine and smells like...pretty much everything good. It's hard to compete with doughnuts and coffee, especially in a shop that specializes in both, but he manages to do just that. "Ooh, good choice. You must have had a good tip. Or maybe...you come here often?"

Cypher has posed:
Doug Ramsey looks up, and the first thing he does is read Daken's body language and microexpressions to go along with his greeting. Whatever Daken is saying, Dougie's reaction to it is 'Wat'. He adjusts his sunglasses and then says, in a vague, slightly off-center voice, "Oh, I used to come here all the time but I haven't been in town for..." He waves a hand, "Years."

His donuts are offered up, and he stuffs the change into the tip jar. "Thank you," He says, beaming briefly at the girl behind the counter before he takes his box of donut holes and his coffee and looks back at Daken. "You know how it is, right? Life just happens." Haha, that's *funny*.

Daken has posed:
Daken's body language is...definitely full of confidence. He controls his body, and it responds to his every demand. Evidently. He certainly does discipline it well, though Doug's probably seen the likes of his physique back home.

"Years! Wow...and you came back for doughnuts?" Daken leans just a little bit closer, but he lets the other guy have at least enough of a personal space buffer to remain plausibly deniable. "You must really have a hunger."

Before anyone can stop him, Daken turns to the girl at the counter and gives her a nod for his refill. "Hey, can you get me a couple of the honey-dipped full-sized ones?" He glances to Doug, grin slowly curling on his face like a Cheshire cat. "Join me for a quick one?"

Cypher has posed:
Doug Ramsey looks faintly flabbergasted. So this guy who just OOZES animal magnetism just walked up and started flirting with him. Him. Doug Ramsey. In the donut shop. Well it's KIND of flattering... "Ah. Hm. Um." Doug looks upward, and then he says, "All right."

As Daken's donuts and his refill are served up, Doug finds a table, and helps himself to a couple of the donut holes and a sip of his coffee. He takes it black. "So." He says, both hands curled around the coffee cup. "Hi."

Daken has posed:
Daken may not have known that Doug would agree to eat with him, but he felt it was likely. It's Doug who would probably be able to calculate the statistics to some extended decimal point, but Daken's more of a "feel it and see" sort of person.

As he walks, his way of moving his body to take each step communicates plenty in his confidence and poise. Everything he does may seem incidental, but there's a cohesive sense of purpose all throughout it. Even when he sits, he drapes himself *just* so in his seat, extending his arms slightly, which moves the shirt he's wearing only barely buttoned and shows off a tantalizing peek or two at his upper body.

Not that it's hard to see that with the shirt on, it's just that fabric covers some of the tattoo design.

"I'm Daken." Which Doug will probably know, isn't particularly a complimentary name to bear. Maybe this guy's as much of a punk as he looks. Though glam punk.

Cypher has posed:
That makes Doug look down at his coffee cup. This is definately unfamiliar ground for him. Finally he looks back up, and says, "Ah, Doug." He takes a sip of his coffee, and then says, "You're not a townie. You from up in Breakstone?" The mansion district, where all the old-money houses are. "My name is Doug. Las. Douglas!"

Then he wrinkles his nose, as his powers quietly pick up on the fact that Daken is communicating to him on some sub-verbal level. What...? "It's... nice to meet you, Daken?"

Daken has posed:
"The pleasure's all mine," Daken quietly answers, his voice not quite what one might call purring, but still warm and pleasant and well-rounded all the same. "Oh, I get up here sometimes. I spend most of my time in the big city. Just got a little sick of hobnobbing and being a clothes-horse, so I thought...it's time for a little jaunt."

It's not outrageous, especially if Daken's got some money to burn which, from how he talks, he probably does. "Glad to meet you, Doug Las Douglas," he continues on, chuckling softly even as he makes his joke. "Something tells me you're not used to being the center of attention."

Cypher has posed:
"Got that in one, did you?" Douglas says, half to himself, before he sips his coffee and says, "...No, I'm really not." He says. "And you're--" He looks familiar, why does he look familiar, "Really intense." Then he puts a donut hole into his mouth and chews, thoughtfully. "Honestly I'm not an interesting guy. Just a computer nerd who... used to live in Salem Center and I was taking a trip so I thought I'd take a detour and stop at the old hangout." Which is not really anywhere close to true.

"I mean, it's nice to meet you and all--" He says, before he pauses again. "What IS that--" Then he realizes it, and he lets it slip because he's not paying attention. "Pheromones."

Daken has posed:
Daken's laughter becomes more actual laughter at Doug's flurry of one-sided conversation. It doesn't seem to upset Daken at all that he's been found out pheromone-wise. "Computer nerd! I love nerds. Especially cute ones like you." He leans over the table, closer to Doug, and it has the added effect of making those pheromones easier to engage with and understand. "Cute ones," he murmurs, voice lowered, "with special gifts."

He's not wrong, and he knows it. Not just anyone can even tell they're there, much less actually know what they are. "You want me to make this doughnut blow your mind? I've got a trick or two."

Cypher has posed:
"It's not so much that I know that they're there, is that I'm picking up on what they're telling me, which is that my attention and interest should be on you." Doug says, sotto voce. He raises his coffee to his lips, and it needs be said his eyes ARE on Daken. "What, you have a thing for IT guys who're Dazzler fans?"

Then he looks down at the donut, and says, "Okay, sure. I like tricks. Let's see one."

Daken has posed:
Remarkably, a part of what Doug says actually seems to take Daken by surprise. "You like Dazzler? I like Dazzler." It's like an unwritten rule, queer mutants like Dazzler. At worst, they'll leave her alone. For Daken, she's on a no-hits, no-creep list. No negotiation, even in his mercenary days. Whether or not it's a put-on, his interest in Doug heightens, or maybe just manifests genuinely, at that point.

"Buy the ticket, take the ride?" Daken reaches a hand out, to brush his fingertips along the back of Doug's hand. His expression softens, and he looks for all the world like he might be gentle and tenderhearted. And he might be, in that moment.

It also carries with it the exceptional pheromonal enhancement of a powerful craving that this specific doughnut can satisfy. It'll taste like fresh, clear water in the desert.

"Go on," he encourages Doug. "Taste it."

Cypher has posed:
"Who's not a fan of Dazzler?" Doug says. "I've met her. She's amazing!" Damn pheromones loosen his tongue, and he says, "She sang me her version of Stevie Nicks' 'Sorcerer' and I got a hug--" He clams up, and his brow furrows. He looks down, and then reaches down to pick up the donut. He takes a bite of it, and then he pauses, with his mouth full of it -- "That is some trick. You got me beat." He eats the donut.

Then he washes it down with a slug of coffee.

Daken has posed:
"Oh yeah? Marilyn Martin sang that on the soundtrack of--" Daken starts, then stops himself. His cheeks look...a little pink. Almost impossible to tell, but someone as detail-oriented as Doug won't have trouble. "A movie I saw a while ago." Some time ago now, especially since he saw it at the theater.

His approach has changed a bit, and it's less artificial now. As much as Doug might have been caught off guard, Daken has had his expectations completely defied. That doesn't happen often, in his experience. "I'm guessing you're not the type for things like casual one-shots at a nice bed and breakfast." It's such an incidental comment.

Cypher has posed:
"Streets of Fire." Doug says. "I like goofy old movies." Doug looks down, and then back up at Daken. He tilts his eyes, and then says, "Honestly? I don't know. Something bad happened to me awhile ago and--" He says, "It's taken me a long time to get my life going again." Technical truth.

He moves to pat Daken on the hand. "So I don't really know what I want out of life. I mean, I'm INCREDIBLY flattered." Then he says, "But I have a lot to figure out about myself before I start having one night stands with anyone -- man, woman, or otherwise. It's like I'm learning to live all over again." Like, nothing.

Daken has posed:
"Streets of Fire," Daken echoes, catching Doug's eyes. The pheromones are still going, though they're not so overt or insistent now that he knows Doug can communicate with them somehow. That's sort of blowing his mind still. "So maybe don't leave it with one night? Or there's always hitting a movie and making out in the theater if it's boring."

Even if he's not at his best now, without his usual advantage, he still has that disarming approach to fall back on. And even if the pheromones are clear with their coaxing and tempting, it seems that Daken is being honest, or honest enough to be convincing.

Cypher has posed:
Doug Ramsey lets out a soft sigh, and then gives a bright smile. His eyes are big, and blue, and so very, very shy, but there's a hint of something roguish in them when he looks up to meet Daken's gaze. He pats him on the hand, gently, and says, "Look. I can tell you're one of us, so I'll just be up front with you."

"When I say something bad happened to me, Daken? I was dead. No kidding! Dead. And now I'm not dead. And I'm putting up a pretty good front but I still have an awful lot I need to think my way through. Along with the fact that BEFORE I died Google Translate could pinch-hit for me, but now I can do things like -- well, pick up on the fact that you're using pheromones to submliminally communicate with me, for instance. I just KNOW it, and now it's as plain as day to me. But it's also kind of overwhelming sometimes, but also thrilling."

Daken has posed:
One of us! Daken knew it. The mutant thing. Maybe some other things. Unconfirmed. He props his cheek on a hand, fluttering his long lashes as he looks right into Doug's pretty eyes with his own...probably pretty eyes, though they're a little more dangerously absorbing than cute. They have a sharper edge to them than Doug's, maybe reflecting other aspects of him. The window to the soul, it's said, something easy enough understood by a man so insightful with detail as Daken has to be.

He's silent while Doug speaks to him, silent for a time after, and he barely moves except for breathing. When a silence descends upon the both of them, he reaches out with his other hand, his free hand, and extends his first finger, then taps the very tip of Doug's nose.

"All the more reason to live and have fun." Daken finally sits up straighter and takes his doughnut from the plate, nibbling a bite and chewing, swallowing before he continues. "I mean, you're not dating at the moment, right?" Maybe he's been through more than he lets on, but death doesn't seem to be something that holds a lot of weight with the man.

Cypher has posed:
That makes Doug laugh aloud. "Wow!" He says. "Okay." He looks around, and says, "I'm not doing ANYTHING right now, except stopping to smell the flowers, you know, like Ferdinand the Bull." He looks across the way at Daken, and he says, "Look... like I said, I honestly don't know where I'm at. And I'm not going to turn you down flat, but I am going to say that *I* would feel more comfortable if we became friends first and then that question came up?"

Then he says, "But, while I'm awesome at subtextual analysis of what people are really saying based on their microexpressions," He blinks, slowly, "...Why are you so interested in me? I don't... have a whole lot to offer, at least I'm sure I don't compared to your usuals, though I can't say I know your type."

Daken has posed:
Daken goes back to all grinning again, leaning back in his seat and making a vague sort of gesture that could as easily be to himself and his shirt as it could be to the circumstances in general between them. "I'm fine with that. But if you're just visiting, I wanted to be sure we could stay in touch. You know how it is -- meet somebody, summer friends, never see 'em again once you're on your way home? Which is fine if that's what you're in for."

He reaches down to pick up his coffee cup and holds it up, not quite taking a sip yet. "Why am I interested in you? Do you really want me to go into that? Because I could start out with all the shallow, embarrassing reasons and shift into the deeper ones. Maybe it'll make you squirm."

Cypher has posed:
Doug considers that, and then he takes another donut hole and puts it into his mouth. "Well." He says, "I'm the master of language here. Let's see what you can do." Then he says, "I don't have a phone or anything yet so I can't give you a number, but--" He says, "...I'll tell you what." He digs out a scrap of paper and writes down an e-mail address and a Skype. Yes, it's still a thing.

"Okay? ...Go."

Daken has posed:
Daken slips a hand into his pocket and pulls out a sleek phone that he swipes up and then sets down on the table in front of Doug. It's got his number on it and everything. There's an impossibly serene and understated Japanese traditional house shot as the wallpaper.

"You've got eyes I want to look into," Daken starts. "Your lips look like they're soft. They probably taste good. Your nose is cute." He looked so serious when he started, just for that moment, before veering back into his wicked tones of grinning. "You have, against all odds, a rockin' body under those clothes, and I will be very honest and say I have *got* to see."

Settling back against his seat, his chest rises as he breathes in slowly. "You're just slightly awkward in conversation, which is adorable. Your hair is shaggy and I want to mess it up. And see it right after you wake up and what a disaster it is from just sleeping on it." He drums his fingertips on his chest, then flicks his wrist and waves that hand. "You're fun to talk to. You're honest with yourself and me. You have a kickass super power. I can't deny I also am extremely curious what your o-face looks like."

Cypher has posed:
Doug looks down, and while his cheeks turn pink, he says, "Okay, you're plainly the best at what you do." He says. "I feel like I should be thinking about this when the pheromones you're giving off aren't having a conversation with me about what a great idea it would be to fly to..." He thinks, "Amsterdam? You're definately subconsciously saying Amsterdam."

Doug looks down, and then says, "But I have to stick to my guns on this one. Also, people don't say 'no' to you very often, do they?" He murmurs, "But you've given me a booster shot right in the confidence, I'll give you that." Then he says, "The techno-organic virus that revived me brought me back with *abs* and *biceps*. I'm working on figuring out how to keep them. Right now, I'm just jogging and lifting weights and cutting most junk food out of my diet, and making an exception for donut holes." He does write down the phone number, though.

Daken has posed:
"Am I saying Amsterdam?" That takes Daken a little by surprise, and he thinks on it, visibly. Then, after a few seconds, he nods in confirmation. "Yeah...Amsterdam. You'd like it there. We could go smoke up with coffee and see all the sights." The grin has turned kind of lopsided, but it's notably more charming that way. Even if he's seemingly shameless, he recognizes it and also owns it. "I can help. I also work sometimes as a personal trainer."

Huh. That makes sense, though.

But once Daken finishes his doughnut and leaves his coffee half-done, he slips a twenty under the saucer for the girl to find when she clears away the dishes. He slides up to his feet and takes his phone back, slipping it back into his pocket and offering Doug a bright smile. "I look forward to seeing you again, Doug. Take care."

As if unable to resist, he reaches over to ruffle Doug's hair. Just once. And then he waves and moves off to the door.

Cypher has posed:
Doug sits back, in the booth, and cradles his cup of coffee in one hand. "Okay. How is it," He says to himself, "That my life took a turn for the weird and wild *after I died*? Unbelievable." His hair is a blond mane -- incredibly thick.