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The man that wasn't a man walked amongst humans with a faint smile of excitement on his face. Every once in a while he'd bump into someone quite obviously, pausing only to brush them off and make a heartfelt, smiling apology. Most of them simply walked off, sparing him off glances. Despite this, he didn't seem discouraged in the slightest, simply hitching up his outfit, brushing off his cuffs, and reaching a hand out to brush against the back of the neck of a passing man. It was a smooth, swift motion, and even as the man was turning to see who had performed it, the man who was not a man had disappeared into the crowd once more.
God, to feel flesh on flesh once more! Human beings did it so often, so many times over the course of -every day-! And not a one of them seemed to appreciate how spectacular it was! Every time money changed hands, people would touch flesh ever so slightly. A mere handshake was one of the most beautiful things in the world. So many people, taking so many beautiful things for granted. And the man who was not a man walked along slowly, silently, towering over most of them by nearly a foot. This alone would've gotten him glances if not for his odd behavior, but he seemed to live for the attention, walking along ramrod straight, with a smoothness and poise that made him seem like a celebrity. The man who was not a man soaked in the attention of others, seeming to become even more alive than a normal mortal in the process.
Only one thing seemed to get to the man who was not a man, as a pair of chattering girls walked by. One of them was speaking at a machine gun's pace, saying nothing of particular note. The man who was not a man listened, filtered all of it out as soothing background noise, the kind of thing spoken across the world time and time again. He frowned ever so slightly, his expression pensive as he watched the two girls walking past. One of them was typing at her phone, and before the man who was not a man could even recognize the words, she was speaking. They seemed to drill into the air, leaving the man who was not a man moving on reflex, placing their hand in front of the phone, just as a large flash was going off.
"Let me take a selfie!"
As the attempt at immortalization was negated handily, the man who was not a man loomed over slowly, his face putting on a calm, friendly smile. He seemed...warm, almost sociable as he stared at the girl, ignoring the irritated grumbling from her friend. He stared at her in silence for a second or two, and then slid his hands into his pockets. Letting his height work to its fullest advantage, he waited for a second or two, then managed another smile, one that was almost...sharklike.
"A selfie, was it? And what exactly are we commemorating, today? A special occasion?"
Walking along the street with his left hand within his jacket pocket he held his face low, juking past people attempting to wade through the crowd. He had just bombed another interview, accidentally getting flustered and initiating a confrontation with a man who had been flirting with the boss's secretary the entire interview. Needless to say that assaulting an employee and then tearing their shoulder from it's socket didn't warrant a quick hiring process. As it was his reputation in the Yakuza was the only thing holding back the law from enforcing fines upon him. A man suddenly moved out of the way and bumped into jackson, forcing him to stumble to his right and look backwards to see what had occurred. A large man, seemingly oblivious to the overcrowded sidewalk seemed to just bump into people, making contact with someone constantly. The other man walked away, but Jackson was curious. This man was large and strange after all, with a weird feeling to him. It wasn't until that moment he felt it, something dark and sinister...something familiar. Watching as he hindered the idiotic ritual of selfies, the man began to impose himself amongst them. Jackson didn't approve of the immortalization of oneself for the mere purpose to use up the valuable time someone could not think to use better, but that didn't mean they had the right to be their parent either.
As the girl looked up at him in confusion and a strange panicked fear that women have when facing a stranger, Jackson imposed himself across the wave of pedestrians standing across from the man.
"Is this man bothering you?" He directs towards the woman, yet maintains eye contact with this imposing man before him.
"Is that so...? You mean you do it just to do it? Because your life is that full of intrigue? I must say, I really -am- impressed. I thought you had the face of a celebrity, but I was sure I was hallucinating."
Yaksha's words spilled out without a moment's pause, with nothing but the warmest and most sociable smile on his face. The girl managed a feeble one of her own, ego properly stroked as Yaksha began to chuckle under his breath, reaching out for her phone and ever-so-gingerly plucking it away, holding it out in front of himself as he watched the girl and her friend standing there, staring at him dimly. He rolled his eyes, and then pointed ever so slightly. These two were so remarkably stupid, Yaksha almost felt like it'd be an evolutionary good deed to do away with the two of them. But he knew all too well that it wasn't his place to make that kind of decision.
"Selfie, yes? Just take a stance, and I'll get your picture for you! I promise you, I've an excellent eye for quality. This picture will be...spectacular. And then you'll never have to see me again!"
He clicked the pictures carefully and slowly, turning back towards Jackson and snapping the picture without even looking. One eye closed in a slow, almost lazy wink, before the turned back to the two girls, snapping another and then handing out the phone. The girl bounded forward, only to stop after a split second, eyeing him warily. Yaksha laughed slightly, raising his hands into the air like a man under orders by police. But this time, the phone clattered to the phone...or would've if his foot hadn't snapped up, catching it midfall and knocking it back up into the air, where the girl snatched it up with a smooth motion. Yaksha nodded slightly, clapping his hands as he did.
"Thank you, thank you for humoring me ladies! I'm a bit of a performance artist, you know. I'm still very new to the act, but I promise you, I can do some extraordinary things if you give me half a chance. All you have to do is...believe."
With the word and an almost unfathomably complicated flick of his wrists, one that almost made it look like one passed through the other, Yaksha pulled out...another phone, this one looking absolutely identical to the one that he had taken from the young girl.
"Mind checking to confirm that's your phone, miss? It should have your contacts, your pictures...and the two I just took, of course."
As the two girls crowded together, fawning over the gesture, Yaksha sidled just a little closer to the unexpected guest, nudging them ever so slightly with his elbow, and speaking in the tones of absolute sincerity and trustworthiness reserved only for the most skilled of liars.
"I'd appreciate it if you didn't spoil the act for just a little longer. Give me another two or three minutes, and then I'll answer all your questions."
The girls were not in danger and neither had they even acknowledged his presence. Despite the awful feeling that simply exudes from this man, there was nothing he could do without invoking a response that was unnecessary and unbecoming. He simply stood there, watching, waiting for the strange man to slip.
"I mean I may be able to blame him for Larceny or performing without a license, but we all know that it won't go anywhere. Plus, since when do I have to be a cop? If they paid me sure, hell if they gave me a shitty shack to call home I'd do it, but this guy? He's just some creep with a strange aura about him." He thinks to himself, unknowingly being closer to the truth then he realized.
Jackson stood unimpressed and if these women decided to indulge the behavior he'd chalk it up to a bad decision and misunderstanding and go back to his miserable day. This town was a wonderful circus filled with everything but the normal. Either everyone was clueless and helpless or mysterious and withholding power unimaginable to most in the world they lived in today. Then there was the demons... It almost clicked why the aura was so familiar but he just watched...
"Your phone, yes? Unmistakeably? Then perhaps your friend would like to call it."
The woman did indeed begin dialing, again with a look of almost comical boredom on her face...until she noticed that the phone in her friend's hand wasn't ringing. No, it was the one in Yaksha's hand that appeared to be producing the trademark sound, leaving Yaksha with a brow raised and that same good-natured smile as he watched the young woman who had initiated all of this blush and try to hide her face. He laughed heartily, openly, and began to once more embark on that chaingun banter, words flowing smoothly and swiftly from between his lips, as if he were advertizing for something.
"Spongebob Squarepants? Oh don't worry you're never too old to enjoy some of the classics, I still watch it myself every once in a while. In fact..."
Yaksha's hands clapped together, flattening the phone with a rather sickening crunching noise. When he pulled his hands away, there was no phone however...not even the faint signs of circuitry. There was only a piece of paper gently fluttering to the ground, containing a picture of what looked very much like a pineapple. His smile continued to creep across his face as he crossed his arms over one another, waggling his fingers at the two.
"Alright, a man knows when his welcome is overstayed. I'll leave you two to your devices, after just one more trick. I promise you, this will be quick. You see, I have a rather remarkable gift for the oratory arts. Yes yes, I know it seems a bit obvious. But I want the two of you to come over here, and I -promise- you before this conversation is over, I'll be able to convince you that you've known me all your life."
He extended both of his arms, as if he intended to shake hands. The two girls looked about slowly, almost curiously...but there was a crowd by now, a few lazy stragglers with nowhere in particular to go, standing by and watching. Yaksha rose his brows once more, and nodded towards his hands. The two girls stepped forward, reaching out to grab his hands, and his grin turned wider, shifting from something warm and friendly, the sort of thing people almost always wore for the simple appearance of it, into something...hungry. Something manic. His eyes gleamed with a mad exultation as his hands touched theirs, and sprung into motion as if on autopilot. Each one slid down to their wrists in a single smooth motion, pushing up on their hands without exerting more than the faintest bit of pressure. He didn't even seem to be forcing them to move their hands, so much as...letting them. Confusion flashed across two pairs of faces, before Yaksha's words washed over them, leaving their eyes almost...hazy.
"You two have such nice hands, such such lovely hands. I picked you out of the crowd because of those hands, those lovely lovely hands. It's so hard to look away from them, aren't they? And now, as you're looking at your hand, you realize for the first time just how lovely they really really are. I mean, when's the last time you really looked at your hands? I'm sure you put on nail polish every day, for those hands...but does that really count? When's the last time you just stared at your hands, stared at your lovely hands and noticed how lovely they really were? We say all the time we know it like the back of our hands but when's the last time you looked at the back of your hands? Ten minutes ago? Fifteen? Even if it was just five seconds ago, when I turn your hands over, you'll appreciate just how beautiful they are."
He turned their hands slowly, ever so slowly...and the two girls widened their eyes, letting out twin childish titters of delight as they stared at something only they could see, leaning forward to stare at them quite intently. Yaksha's hands rested gently on their wrists, checking their pulses as he watched the lids flutter, reality crashing in again, ever so slowly.
"And now you know why you remember me so much, don't you? I'm the hand doctor. I'm the one who reminded you how important your hands are. Your lovely, lovely hands. And you'd hate to do anything to damage those hands, right? I mean, both of you plan on doing something special with those hands one day, yes? These lovely lovely hands will change the world, somehow. And I'm the man that'll make it possible for you. All you have to do is pay attention to your pretty hands, to know the back of your hand like you know your favorite pop song. And when I clap -my- hands, both of you will come back, feeling rested, refreshed, and excited to go home and do something special with those hands."
He paused for just a second, his brow furrowing as he glanced around, giving everyone a chance to wait with baited breath for him to finally release these two girls from an impossible spell. Just as the tensions were highest, he rose his own hands once more, his expression turning into one of surprise.
"Oh god no, don't do that. Please, I'm sure a lot of people present are hoping and dreaming, but let's not do that[]/b] first thing tonight, alright? Something else special."
Even as the faint strands of laughter filled the air, Yaksha was clapping his own hands, watching the two girls' eyes return to focus, and smiling calmly, excitedly as he bowed ever so slightly. The applause was scattered, not quite a proper sort of thing...but it was more than loud enough. Yaksha had yet again managed to earn himself another day in this world, and it'd take something very wretched to pry him away from it.
Sidling close to Jackson, he spoke sotto voice, his grin never once wavering.
Post by Jackson Wells on Dec 28, 2015 13:15:15 GMT
Jackson couldn't believe what he was seeing, it was tantalizing except that each and every word he spoke washed over him with a strange feeling. He exuded an aura of, it was of the Demons!! The world suddenly stopped, time halted as his brain quickly fired millions of neurons of understanding. He felt exactly like a demon [hollow] and yet here he was, some kind of awkward performer who did parlor tricks in the street for a kick. Jackson's mind could not comprehend this trickster, the sleight of hand and smooth talking awkwardness that made this...what it even a man at all?
Suddenly, as he crushed the phone into paper displaying some pineapple for what he called spongebob square pants, having not been privvy to the show, that is when Jackson's eyes narrowed. He reached and pulled with all his might to siphon as much of a reading of this man before him, allowing his purple tendrils of reiatsu to encompass him, wrap around him. Although harmless, they surrounded the strange man, a few tendrils reaching into the crowd licking their skin like a flame hungry for life.
Then the foul monster leaned in and muttered foul language, he simply couldn't withhold it. The seething anger and energy agitating within him. That is, he couldn't withhold it until he looked amongst the crowd. He couldn't make a scene and with that in mind. he wished he could just release his power and have no one realize he existed. Instead, he looked back at the being and responded, "Bravo, it's too bad you don't do private performances." The polite mannerism in which he presented himself did nothing to halt the seething threat he subtly intertwined into his words as he spoke them.
"I know what you truly are, Demon. I am no fool," he whispered so just Yaksha could hear.
"You sure? It's actually not nearly as bad as you've been led to believe. Fools used to have it pretty fucking good. But eh, you don't seem like the sort to appreciate history so let's make this quicker."
He rose his hands, wafting in the sounds and sensations of the crowd, allowing his grin to beam on his face. Such a simple routine, little more than a basic application of a few psychological tricks, and already he could see the two girls tittering to each other, their lives no doubt changed by such a slight event. Yaksha watched them for a few more seconds, saying nothing at all as he let his new target's reaitsu roll over him, drinking in the violence and anger there, sensing as much of them as possible without actually turning to face him. Finally, he inhaled deeply, his chest puffing outwards and his eyes closing as he let himself get consumed by the simple sounds of life returning to routine. Finally, after nearly a minute had passed, he turned towards Jonathon, extending his hand slowly, casually.
"Yaksha Dokuja. Charmed. Not me, you understand. I'm the one doing the charming."
His grin never wavered, that ever so slight expression like he was sharing in some great joke with Jonathon, like he was simply giving this boy a chance to laugh and piss away some time with a creature so old that he could've doubtlessly answered secrets of the universe that had existed for centuries. He simply stood there, hand extended ever so slightly, fingers waggling as he looked into the young mortal's eyes, drinking in the emotions there. Negative attention was every bit as good as positive, in the short term. Simply knowing he could rustle someone's jimmies that well was a pretty lovely sensation. But so soon after he had charmed his way into the minds of at least a dozen humans?
He could deal with being hated, at least for a little bit.
Post by Jackson Wells on Dec 28, 2015 17:39:50 GMT
Jackson faced the man, looking at his extended hand which might as well have been a dagger pointing at his own chest. He extended his hand, unable to deny the courtesy of a simple handshake for respect's sake. This man was obviously more powerful then he let on, just how powerful was still unknown. As they clasped hands he tightened his grip to a slightly uncomfortable level, not to intimidate the man but to ensure he knew with every fiber of his being that his presence was an unwelcoming sight. Jackson's very body felt like throwing his bodily fluids upon the street just to purge the sickness he felt when contacting this man.
"A pleasure, although no doubt more so yours than my own." He exhaled with strain, keeping his composure and mannerisms intact, but the frothing disgust welling up inside him.
"What brings you to Karakura town?" He asks innocently, yet somehow wishing that this led to an opportunity to rid the two presences from one another. His tendrils still coaxing the man, they began to falter and reach towards the members of the crowd that was now slowly dissipating. What was this man and why, what possessed Jackson to put himself in this predicament?
"It's the holidays. End of the year. Isn't it normal to go sight-seeing around this time of year? Thought I'd get out for a bit, see the sights. Where I come from, you don't get sunsets like you do here. Just...beautiful."
The child had tried the old 'attempt at dominance' handshake, and Yaksha didn't even seem to notice...not least of all because of the hand he'd extended. Let Jonathon squeeze hard enough to shatter his own bones, it'd do no good. But the effort was enough to almost make Yaksha's heart flutter. This child clearly had a grudge that couldn't simply be explained by aggression. This was far too personal, too direct. This man, whoever he was, had to realize what Yaksha was. He began to walk after Jonathon slowly, gesturing with one hand for the shorter man to come along.
He wasn't entirely sure where he was going or what he was planning on doing, but he already knew this child was going to be in for quite the trip tonight. His brain was boiling over with ideas, far too many to reach out and grasp one, far too diffuse to be of any use yet. Whatever he was going to do, it was best it stay a secret even from himself, until the perfect moment. Somehow, Yaksha had found, his mind seemed able to race and break apart events so quickly that it almost seemed retroactive, once he'd finally decided on a course. Or perhaps that was just the universe falling into place, leaving itself open for him to capitalize on.
"You know, normally people mention their own name after someone introduces themselves. I get the feeling manners aren't really your thing, but everyone has to make the effort, you know? It's what makes us human."
Post by Jackson Wells on Dec 28, 2015 17:59:03 GMT
"YOUR NOT EVEN HUMAN!" He screamed within his head, flustered at the quick oversight of introductions. The man was obviously leading him somewhere, whether that be to a dark alley way for sinister plotting or to another crowded street for a sub-par performance he knew not. As it was Jackson really had no where to go and even more distressing couldn't find a good excuse to leave and so he began to follow the dark entity.
"My apologies for the oversight, I am Jackson." He spoke aloud, still aloof in tone. One thing still bothered Jackson, a simple sentence the man had passed as if it were nothing. To not get sunsets where he came from? Had he come from the Artic or some dark corner of the world, or was it more sinister. Maybe he is a demon who crawled from the very depths of hell and somehow blended in with the general populace. But if that was true was he under an illusion? Remembering a simple trick he burst a Below Average blast of reiatsu, just to ensure he was clear of mind and soul. Without an outward change he was unable to tell if anything had been done, and so this was reality. Following a strange man who could very well be the most dangerous being Jackson had ever met.
"You look stressed, Jackson. You drink? I know a few good bars in the area, we could get ourselves a shot or two. I'd probably need ten just to myself, but I mean...you stay at it as long as me, you get a tolerance. How's that old commercial go? 'Bet you can't just eat one'? Man, I loved that."
Yaksha shook his head, his face once more settling into a faintly regretful smile, as if talking and thinking about the past seemed to leave him especially upset. He walked alongside Jonathon, letting the atmosphere solidify into something decidedly hostile, the sort of situation that seemed like it could explode into violence at any moment. But Yaksha continued to smile, walking alongside this human, speaking with such kindness and such dedication, as if he truly was a human. There wasn't any of that normal mindless violence that any typical hollow would've exhibited, not even a sign of hunger present any longer. Yaksha Dokuja was simply walking along, blending in among humans with the sort of natural ease that one who had spent decades practicing in front of a mirror could manage.
"So quiet, Jackson. Isn't this what people are supposed to do? Just walk around, making small talk? Reminding one another that they're not alone in this wretched cesspit? Yet you seem so disinterested. Don't tell me you're the sort that gets hung up on appearance? Racism went out of vogue a few decades ago, you know." He waggled his finger in front of Jonathon's nose, waiting patiently, his eyes wide and curious. The boy was clearly rising to a fever pitch, and Yaksha had no intention of watching the fever break before the boy did. Explosions of emotion truly were one of the most interesting things to watch, for him. Especially since his own emotions had been so fucked up for so long now.
It almost made him feel human, to watch humans acting like animals.
Post by Jackson Wells on Dec 28, 2015 18:38:27 GMT
He thought a moment and then smiled, "First round on you? I drink occasionally, but out of recreation rather than some obscure need to fill an imaginary void." Unwittingly he had made a pun as he was speaking to a hollow, but the fortuitous jest went over Jackson's understanding.
This man or entity that he was, he seemed more interested in the world like a sadistic child seeking to experience the world first hand. It surely didn't have the mindless and masochistic hunger that Jackson had experienced before when his father had turned. But then, maybe this was just a strange man that simply pushed buttons he didn't know existed.
I'm not much for small talk, it is better to say nothing than have nothing to say, but I find it odd that you both love it here for the views yet believe this place to be a cesspool. Don't get me wrong, scum fill the streets each day but I still enjoy it here." Then he suddenly turned slightly more serious, but not menacingly, "I am no racist sir, No book can tell you it's plot nor setting by just reading the title alone. One must skim a few chapters before making an opinion." He stared back at the large man before him, now looking within his pupils with a finger waving in front of his face, a gesture he certainly reacted as if it were a rude gesture of the middle finger.
"How very odd. I drink out of a rather scientifically sound need to fill a very real hole. You mean some people fabricate reasons to make themselves miserable? I always thought that was just on Tumblr."
Yaksha's smile still hadn't faded or changed in the slightest, but his hand had returned to his side, and his curious, appraising eyes seemed to wash over Jonathon with the full brunt of his attention, leaving the man feeling rather like an insect, skewered in place by a pin. He seemed to be waiting patiently for...something, something not even he was sure of. An epiphany? An outburst? Some sort of shared...sentiment? Yes, that was it. Pure sentimentality. Irrelevant to hollows, but Yaksha wasn't exactly a hollow now, was he? It paid to at least attempt to be properly sentimental. The man who wasn't a man inhaled slowly, looking up at the sky.
"This world is a cesspit, make no mistake. A simple waiting room for things far bigger and far larger. It's a world where everyone shits where they eat, a world where everyone desperately attempts to turn one into infinity. It's a doomed ball of rock in an unforgiving universe. And the hyper-intelligent apes on it that fell down from out of their trees are the shittiest part. They go around looking at the world, without any sense of...perspective. The only appropriate response to the fact that there even exists a world capable of life is wonder. And yet I watch those girls walking down the streets, clacking away on technology none of them understand...and being bored. By the sight of the horizon and the stars. Oh, believe me. When it comes to being unilaterally and fascinatingly awful, nothing beats mankind."
Looking up at the sky, Yaksha's eyes misting over ever so slightly, he realized a few moments too late just what he had said, what he had done. No normal person would speak that way, not in those sort of...absolute terms. But that was fine because he wasn't human, right? This boy already suspected it, whether or not he -knew-, and what was the harm in pretending just for a little bit that he was? In partaking in this communal madness humans called civilization? In being part of...a whole? Separate, distinct, unique, and yet still welcomed? The very notion of that would've been almost laughable in Hueco Mundo.
"If it's all the same to you, I'd rather the first round be in me."
Post by Jackson Wells on Dec 28, 2015 20:03:05 GMT
Jackson took a moment studying the man who wasn't a man. His very demeanor had suddenly changed as if the very fabric of reality was different between them and in fact, wasn't it. That was the very notion of varying perspectives, but this was different. He was a man from another world it seemed who not only admired the planet, but was disgusted by it's very nature. Humankind understood this well and coped as children since they were born into the corruption and plague and simply meld around it, embracing the nature of this world and it's intricacies. Jackson raised an eyebrow as he finally shed his disgust and anger and replaced it with something just as dangerous, curiosity. Curiosity that this thing before him was akin to humans and felt the very real emotions that humans did, even if it was different then he or other humans would experience. After a long pause he simply said, "And yet mankind, the largest plague in this world is one of the most fascinating and beautiful things existent to this day and all days before it when we learned to walk. I think I'm ready for that drink now." He ended as they approached a nearby bar. He hastened his step and opened the door for the man, awaiting what wonders would fulfill this strangest of days.
"I wouldn't call mankind a plague. Perhaps a parasite, at worst. Humans certainly take quite a lot without giving back. At the end of the day, there's no need to glorify mankind, or make it more than what it is; a group of very smart apes. Their intellect alone is exceptional enough to make them one of the greatest things in this world to exist."
He sauntered into the bar, all smiles and smirks as he clapped his hands together, cupping his hands around his mouth. He shouted out as if he had known everyone in this bar their entire life, as if he were returning to an old haunt. As a matter of fact, this was exactly and literally true; as a hollow, Yaksha had visited this bar dozens of times, coming to know the patrons quite well as their alcohol-induced rambles revealed more and more of themselves. Today as he shouted at the top of his lungs, everyone turned to him, trying their best to burn remaining brain cells and figure out why this guy seemed so familiar with this place, so at home...
"Drinks on me, boys! Alright, so that'll be...one...seven...twenty three shots of whiskey, and what were all you guys drinking?"
Again, he wafted his hands in an odd, almost self-aggrandizing gesture from the ensuing laughter, the sounds of very drunk people who were very eager for any piece of good news right now, and even more eager to stay on the good side of a guy who was willing to give them free booze. He let the applause and laughter die down, then reached into a pocket, carefully and easily peeling off three ten thousand yen notes from a roll, and placing them on the counter, before turning back to Jonathon and favoring him with that crooked grin.
"Hope you like licorice, Jonathon. Tonight, you're in for a treat."
Post by Jackson Wells on Dec 28, 2015 20:42:31 GMT
Amazed by the man's sudden misdirection, or maybe it was just a sudden lapse back to the man he truly was. Regardless he obviously felt comfortable here and even more odd, seemed more at home in the shanty bar than he had out in the sunlit day of Karakura Town.
Two men in the back of the bar whispered amongst each other as if they somehow recognized the man, although likely it was just a fallacy dreamt by their alcoholic stupor. Or maybe they simply didn't appreciate the gallant way the man before him carried his presence. Either way Jackson soon entered behind, although much more stoically then the man before him.
"That's Jackson...and I'm not really a fan of licorice. Now whiskey, that's a pleasantry I wouldn't neglect myself in partaking." He finished while coming up to the bar and resting his arm upon the counter, leaning ever so slightly against the hard wood that divided himself from the plethora of alcoholic beverages on display. The bartender seemed bemused by the two new tenants, but nonetheless began lining up the twenty three shot glasses, preparing for a skillful pour. She had hesitated, likely considering the validity of the order, but once the money came out she certainly caught herself quickly.
Yaksha paused with one shotglass halfway to his lips, eyes closing, hand trembling ever so slightly as he set down the glass. He smoothed out his pants, ran his hands over the cuffs of his suit, and sat there in near dead silence for a few seconds. The only sounds were those of alcohol being poured, and raucous laughter, but Yaksha appeared to have retreated into himself for a second. When his eyes opened once more, he whispered slightly to himself, then turned to the human, nodding his head ever so slightly.
"Jackson. My apologies. I won't let it...happen again."
How had he screwed up something so simple!? It was a name, and a common one at that! He'd been so busy soaking in the attention, trying to keep his patter going, he hadn't even realized he'd been calling his would-be guest by the wrong fucking name! It had seemed so simple at first, so...addictive. Just being alive, being near people, he didn't even realize his own mind had started filtering things into the 'junk' category. He stared at Jackson once more, with eyes that were remarkably soulful this time, as he reached out a hand without even looking. There was no skill or poise this time, as he fumbled along for a glass, finally snatching it up and bringing the contents to his lips, drinking it down in an instant. He closed his eyes for a second, wincing at the burn.
"You want to talk about fascinating. Your body can keep precise track of where every limb and every part of it is, without you ever looking at them. The unconscious processing that must take. It boggles my mind, Jackson. I sometimes find myself so infatuated by the simple act of staying upright and mobile that I...forget myself. I'm sorry."
Post by Jackson Wells on Dec 28, 2015 21:03:49 GMT
Jackson scrutinized the man, appraising him as he seemed to falter and then correct himself suddenly. Was he fighting himself as so many people did? At one moment he was overconfident and composed, the next faltering and seemingly losing control of the most simplest of actions. And then there was the strange perspective of how he analyzed bodily functions and reactions, something that no one ever thought of or even realized. At that very moment he took notice of the strain upon his legs, the amount of energy and strength it took to uphold his small form. The stress upon his arms as his corded muscles kept him aloft as he leaned atop the countertop. All of these things his body did were natural, he simply wished to achieve an action and his body would automatically respond to his wishes without question or reprisal.
He looked back at the man and said, "It's fine, forget about it. We only just met, I can't hold you accountable for such a minuscule detail. The human body truly is a wonder though, it can respond by simply wishing to achieve something." Jackson grabbed a nearby empty glass and gave it a slight underhanded toss towards Yaksha to emphasize the point. Although as the small projectile launched slowly towards him Jackson suddenly felt a heavy weight within, hoping he'd catch the glass. For if he didn't Jackson would feel an overwhelming emotion of guilt wash through his form.
"Oh, how I wish I could forget. How I wish my wretched body could let me leave things behind. But when you get right down to it, I'm little more than a bundle of memories."
Yaksha's hand rose slowly, almost lazily...and the glass tumbled across his fingertips, only barely grazing them, to float almost gracefully into the air, and land with a clatter behind them. Yaksha stared at it for a second, his expression...bland. Absolutely expressionless, he turned back to Jackson, and managed an almost sheepish shrug...yet somehow, even then he managed to convey poise and confidence.
"Perhaps not 100% of the time. Even athletes make mistakes. All the same, the sentiment is appreciated. I'm told that they've discovered a hell of a lot about the human body in the last century...but most of it goes right over my head. I'm still stuck in the mindset of the four humours, and getting past that one took a while."
Yaksha snatched up another shotglass, downing the contents and barely concealing a wince as the burn once more landed in his stomach, leading his eyelid to twitch and his breath to come out just a bit too heavily, as he realized he'd been holding it a bit too long, in anticipation. Yes, human bodies acted unconsciously on so many levels, but it still seemed to respond to expectations quite well...and that meant that Yaksha found himself baffled more often than not when this body betrayed his true intent. He looked down at it, at his own hands, and began to turn them over. Why was he feeling so talkative? Alcohol had that effect, he'd seen it...but he hadn't realized just how irresistible the appeal was. Or perhaps it was just the audience.
"Like...vanilla. People always talk about vanilla being boring. The baseline. The...absence of flavor. Something having vanilla flavoring is almost -disappointing- these days. When I was a human, vanilla was -literally- worth more than your life! It was literally royal treatment, to taste vanilla at all! What does it tell you, Jackson, that we've come to see being treated like royalty as being treated like a commoner, only 1500 years later?"
Post by Jackson Wells on Dec 29, 2015 15:09:44 GMT
Jackson grasped a shot and downed it, allowing the golden liquid courage torch it's fiery vengeance across his throat. The burn soothed and left with it the ashes of something extraordinary, yet was interrupted as his throat closed and body suddenly tightened everywhere. Jackson's right hand quickly grasped his mouth to hold it, forcing it to not droop agape at the words frothing from the man's voice before him. The swallow became more forceful, as to avoid it returning to the glass in which it came. Unfortunately, his left hand thought to grasp the counter while his legs straightened and stiffened which led to the shot glass having no master to hold it aloft. It seemed like forever as it fell, the cough quickly forcing itself from Jackson, misty eyes swooning from the sudden event. As the glass shattered he composed himself, removing his left hand and turning with his right hand gently laying upon the counter. The noise didn't even register to Jackson, as a matter of fact the two were the only one's in existence at that exact moment it seemed.
He certainly wasn't human, but he wasn't a monster either....or was he? Maybe he was some vampire or frankenstein? Jackson shook the thoughts from his head thinking such things to be childish. Of course this guy wasn't a vampire or frankenstein! He was in the sunlight earlier and why would frankenstein benefit from alcohol at all, plus he didn't smell like death!
"Vanilla is actually my favorite flavor for it takes an intricate taste to truly appreciate that which is not forced upon your sensibilities. But, a lot can happen in fifteen hundred years..." He allowed the words to trail off, the curious tone obvious with the lasting hiss of the s in years. One eyebrow rose as he stared at the man, beading into him as if the glare would drill a hole within his mind and reveal the truth. He didn't want to push it, he had naturally blabbed all that Jackson needed, but a small nudge might reveal everything Jackson wanted to know without revealing to much about himself in the process.
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