Post Disaster Dessert Order

Magic Hollow 
@Beau, wearing silver and a black dress in her usual style, hair down

Rika knew what she wanted to do. She wanted to be consoled. And there was no better way to do that than to mewl for Beauregard to take her to the site of her first "date."

All of yesterday had been relatively okay, though she hadn't tested her magic out for fear of like, setting off madness again. Instead she was just gonna do it with him around so that if it started going crazy she could get her apparently newbie self negated.

She had taken the effort to make herself pretty because something in it all was soothing. Her hair covered the bump of her head thankfully (she'd only hit it once and it was the side of her head).

"You said it was a story?" she decided to ask regarding the car, since they were still in it.

Rika seemed well as she got into the car. There was no obvious bruise on her face that would indicate she'd collapsed onto the edge of a table. (He had keen enough eyes to know if she was covering such a thing with makeup.) This was good news, though perhaps it left him feeling a bit as if he'd worried excessively for less reason than was necessary.

The rental car was not entirely to his liking, but matters with his actual vehicle were complex, to say the least.

"Perhaps not terribly long, but not something wise to text message about," he said, offering a smile as he flicked on a turn signal. "But I had been driving when quite suddenly I was unable to see hardly at all. In the process of attempting to pull over, a police cruiser collided into the front of my vehicle."

Beauregard gave the sort of smile that implied intense bitterness.

"This was, of course, because he had apparently frozen half of his car solid and was merely sliding down the road as if it were a lovely winter's pond. Needless to say, it was likely for the best that you were safely at home for it all."

"Frozen?" she asked, eyes widening. "Like... the car stopped or it was literally frozen with ice?"

He'd said a winter pond but she wasn't totally sure if that meant magic or...? Ahhh? There were psychic cops??

Did that mean Beauregard couldn't see because he'd been trying to negate? Or his negation had been trying to happen? Either way.

"Literally frozen with ice," he said. "And of course, as he attempted to open the door of my vehicle, he froze it shut as well."

Beauregard breathed a soft sigh through his nose, shaking his head.

"And of course I was attempting to negate him, rather against my will, and also beyond my limits, which made every miserable part of it all worse. You can imagine I was rather foul tempered when his first question was whether I'd had anything to drink that evening and would not acknowledge the frozen elephant in the room."

The bitterness was as real as anything, if placed into a new story.

"That's crazy."

Foul tempered. She didn't really want to imagine it; mostly she felt bad she hadn't been there for whatever stupid protective reason a bloodbag would feel over her vampire king.

"What did you say to him?"

Was the dumb ice police psychic still alive?

Could she, potentially, run into him?

"Unwise things," he sighed. "Then I ensured he would report the entire incident as his fault, which it was. But I am certain, had I not done that, I would be answering for both the accident and the ice on his car. Cordova police are not an especially just force. They have shifters in their ranks, as well, yet as a whole refuse to acknowledge that any of their officers could be anything other than human."

Beauregard waved a hand, then, dismissive of the entire event. He didn't like the way this car handled. Didn't like the brakes. Didn't like the turning radius. Didn't like the way the air conditioner smelled. Petty complaints, but his nonetheless.

"The whole thing leaves me a bit more cantankerous than is attractive."

What! That all seemed so unfair. And it was absolutely expected that his mood would be, um, "cantankerous."

"I'm so sorry about that. It was such a nice car too."

And Rika thought her night was rough.

"What about the... your other vampires? You said you were babysitting them?"

"It was a nice car," he agreed somewhat dreamily, possibly physically incapable of not verbally agreeing with the sentiment. He did not know what car he would be driving next. Beauregard was not a frivolous spender, but he could not imagine returning to this same vehicle again, even after repairs.

"All of their powers were a disaster as well, and so they were gathered in something of a meeting place for our group, where I could either negate or simply render them unconscious, to the best of my ability. Which was, to be truthful, not a particularly impressive level of ability at the time."

He shook his head, lightening.

"I will never doubt the miserable power of Friday the 13th ever again."

That sounded terrible. Rika was glad she hadn't asked him to come over after all; he had to have been some form of tired even if vampire tiredness was weird.

"Oh wow, I didn't even realize the date. God, it was so bad. Has it ever happened before?"

Rika had had plenty of just fine normal Friday the 13ths. But everyone seemed to have been affected, which... maybe meant something. Who better to ask than someone who'd maybe lived through it?

Beauregard tilted his head from side to side, some wishy-washy variety of an answer.

"It is not uncommon for things to go awry in the fabric of it all," he said. The restaurant was in sight ahead, and he turned into the parking lot as he spoke. "I don't recall it having been on that specific date every time. But whatever force grants us such unique and strange abilities seems to have a very tenuous hold on the rules they follow."

He would not forget falling out of a barn as a goddamned quadruped.

"It sounds as though your powers went quite awry?"

How frustrating, not to know, even as a very powerful vampire. Rika nodded to it and the question that followed.

"Yeah. Um. I went invisible and I couldn't shut it off. And then when I woke up again I started like... the clairvoyance thing. And then invisible again. That's when I hit my head. I thought maybe I was hungry and that's why they were acting up? So I tried to have some food but it started... spoiling in front of me."

She'd spare him the visual of toxic mold. "And then more invisible bouts. I made myself kinda feel... sick, too, which is not a thing that ever happens to me."

That, truly, did sound dreadful, and he could sense within her that it had been a miserable experience. Her retelling seemed quite sincere.

"Oh, Rika," he said with a frown, a tad coddling in tone but far from mocking. "That sounds hellish. I'm glad you didn't make yourself too terribly ill."

Parked, he would circle around to open her door if she did not beat him to it, feeling like playing the gentleman she was probably looking for.

"Was all the food in your home spoiled by the end?"

After the night she'd had, she absolutely was down for being coddled. He did have a way of making her feel like a child, with the spoiling and the sitting in his lap and the... well, all that.

She got out when he let her out, staying close to him and thanking him before continuing.

"I didn't touch anything else, I was worried it would set it all off. But by yesterday in the afternoon it seemed like it was over at least."

Finding herself given to a need for closeness, she'd politely try to tuck her way into the crook of his elbow.

Beauregard nodded. He was comfortable with her at his arm, and he would not flinch for the touch.

"I ask in part because, as absurd as this sounds, I was going to offer to accompany you grocery shopping," he said, then chuckled. "I rarely go myself, and there is some novelty to it. I have no idea what it is people buy anymore."

He was admitting his own strangeness, and the smile on his face was very sincere, if bordering on sheepish, as he opened the door to the restaurant for her.

Boy, coming back here took her back. It had been like, what, five months? But so much had happened since then.

The offer was very very sweet. Surprising. A bit like an alien wanting to learn the customs of Earthlings. She would keep from voicing that comparison aloud, but did smile for it all. "Oh, well we could still go! I do need bread and I was already out of some other things..."

Someone appeared to lead them to a table.

He found a rare sort of shyness within himself.

"It doesn't have to be soon, any time that is convenient, really. It does me well to stay at least somewhat connected to simple things like that. Lest I grow very old and out of touch."

Beauregard was happy enough with their table, and he took a seat to look over the menu as if he would be ordering any of it. He recalled quite clearly her bout of misery in his presence last time. Delightful little brat.

"Be sure to tell me what I'm ordering," he said, a hint mischievous.

Awww. That was cute and so was his sheepishness over it. She smiled fondly, well charmed by now by all the facets of him. "Okay. I'll invite you next time then," she promised, and looking over the menu, she saw several words that popped out to her and decided quick enough: "A 'hashtag selfie' for me, and an 'espress yourself' for you."

She could get silly and feel nice and he could enjoy the effects of it.

Rika, perhaps, had looked at the menu in advance. She made her decisions quickly, and he was without complaint, though he would continue to peruse the menu for his own entertainment.

"They try very hard with the menu names here, don't they?" he asked, though quite quickly he would be facing a waiter to repeat exactly what he'd been told by Rika.

"You were very mad at me last time we were here, you know," he said, teasing.

A giggle for his comment, feeling very much at ease now. Honestly, she just was glad she wasn't flipping out of sight for no reason.

At his tease, she huffed. "I wasn't!" Rika protested with a faint edge of a smile for all her complaint. "I was just like... I thought you were just, you know. Doing all this so you could try to get at my neck."

Said as scandalously as if she'd used the phrase "in my pants," which was apt for that time since she'd been wearing pants too. Mischief played as her smile grew. "Now I know you're a perfect gentleman."

Beauregard was quite pleased with himself for the recollection. How could he be anything but, truly. Luring her out on something so close to a date immediately after meeting. It was good to be charming.

"The most perfect gentleman," he said, all smiles.

Then, a challenging eyebrow, and he set the menu down.

"But you were mad at me."

It felt like he was cornering her in a... corner. Sobs. But in a way she was sort of enjoying.

"Only a liiiiittle bit," she insisted with a cute pout. "It only lasted like. A minute. And then I was never ever mad at you again."

Hurt a few times, but not mad! Right?

Oh, what good news, that all the times she'd been mad at him to follow, she had not in fact been mad at him.

Beauregard smiled, watching as water was brought to them first.

"Am I allowed to ask questions regarding your dating life, or is that politely off limits?"

It was all good. Allll good. Until he asked. A question?

Rika tilted her head in some confusion about it, smile lingering but hesitantly. "Dating life?" she asked, voice unintentionally a little higher. Because, again, confusion. But she would drink her water while he hopefully explained.

Rika didn't have a dating life. She'd had one attempt at a date and never tried again.

She was either playing innocent or truly lived a very quiet life outside this weekly meeting.

"I wasn't sure if you were involved in that sort of thing or not," he explained simply.

Truly, she was young and pretty enough to be asked on dates. And her choice of career put her into many situations where she could be asked out, he assumed.

Surprise, Beauregard, it was the second one.

"Mmm, I don't really... no," she answered that, and then wondered if maybe he expected her to be dating anyone else? "I did have one date a while ago, but it didn't really go anywhere."

Well, two actually, but both didn't go anywhere, soooo.

Beauregard wondered why. He knew it was improper to ask, but it hardly made any sense.

"Ah," he said simply. "I was only curious. It is certainly not my business either way."

He opened his mouth to add a bit more, but their (or really, her) drinks would arrive then. He offered a smile to the waiter before continuing.

"Though if anyone is ever rude to you in that context, feel free to introduce them to me."

The comment felt leading and she felt the urge to clarify, though she was smiling for the protectiveness all the same.

"He was nice enough. I guess I'm just not really... interested in all that though. I don't know." Now she was flushed a little, moving to sip at her drink. "Regular guys don't really interest me, I guess."

Hint, Beauregard, she was into the vampiric part of the whole vampire thing.

There were many things Beauregard could say next. He could pry. He could reassure her. He could encourage her. Instead, his eyebrows rose suddenly, and he spoke with soft surprise.

"Are you alright, Rika?" he asked. "Your cheeks are turning red."

He would give himself away fairly easily, flashing teeth (though not fangs) in a smile.

She would answer with a whine, hands rising to hide her cheeks. "Noooo," Rika protested his teasing, shaking her head. Merciless! "No they are not!"

It was clear they were, and she knew that even as she peeked out at him from behind her fingers.

This girl. He attempted to suggest the follow very seriously, but there was an undeniable titter in his voice.

"Perhaps the rest of you is simply growing paler?"

"You're so mean!" she whined to someone who'd once sliced really meanly into her with dagger teeth. Context! "Maybe I am — maybe turning into a ghost!"

A blushing ghost. Sure, Rika.

That hardly made any sense. She was easy to tease, easy to send regressing into girlishness. He wanted less to do with ghosts than she could possibly imagine, but he kept that wisely to himself.

"I will be going home very hungry then, I suppose," he said mournfully. "How is your drink?"

Aww, she could never. Rika relented and took a big big sip of her drink, letting it sink into her some and earning a bit of a brainfreeze. Haaaaa owwwww.

"Aaaahhhhh it's good," she winced with a pained kind of grin. "Just froze my brain though — maybe you can have me like ice cream."

Gross. Blood ice cream. She wrinkled her nose a little. Was that a thing??

Perhaps feeling emboldened by a general sense of ease here, he tilted his head, expression both smirking and quizzical.

"What precisely does it mean to 'have you like ice cream'?" he asked, twirling his drink on the table idly.

It was difficult to stop teasing her once he'd started. She was an easy and happy victim.

Hey, hey — someone with time magic, please go back in time and shoot her. He took an innocent sentiment and by simply repeating it he'd turned into something that sent her frozen self red. Why was he looking at her! Stop doing that! Her heart rate fired up and this was all very very mean.

"I meant like- I'd be frozen! And—"


"You'd have to makesureIdon'tmelt!"

DDDDDD: please be nice!

Beauregard wondered if she did this with the men she so briefly dated. If she was truly so easily flustered, or if it was all part of the appeal she made for herself. He would not question her, of course.

"Be careful you don't fluster yourself into invisibility," he said softly. "Have you been practicing? Outside of Friday's incident."

Which he knew was hardly practice.

SAFE! He switched very suddenly to Serious Magic Business and it hardly left her time to recover. But that was probably intentional, anyway. He was kind of mean like that.

"Um. Before that, yeah," she blinked, looking down into her slowly emptying glass because she was rendered very shy by all that had just happened. "Not yesterday. Didn't want to make it go crazy again."

OR faint!

Delicate girl, apparently unable to recover from something so profane as innuendo gently tossed in her direction.

"Have you been making progress?" he asked gently, allowing her more time to apparently find herself again.

Beauregard saw the waiter nearing again and wasn't sure if she'd planned to order dessert or perhaps even something savory.

"I thought so," she said. "But it's hard to feel like any of it matters after all that. I dunno. Aside from first getting them that's never really happened to me before."

He said it happened sometimes so he was probably more used to it.

Rika had another dessertini, thank you, she was fine for now. She moved to finish the first one.

"If everyone, everywhere had trouble with Friday, I think it stands as irrelevant to your personal progress."

Beauregard did not care for her being discouraged. It was not a good look, and here, it was nonsensical.

"So ignore that. What ways do you think you were improving before?"

That was true. Successssfullyyyyy scolded.

"Okay. Well. I was getting better at going in and out of sight, I think. I actually fooled a girl into thinking jellyfish were talking to her, at the aquarium, so. Um. Getting better overall with the intoxication, too. Trying to branch out from plants to animal venoms but that requires me to be around animals so I can mimic it from them. But I have a few little bottles filled up so far."


"I haven't really done much with the clairvoyance. It's hard to get practice there with just my things."

Naturally, Rika was spending time convincing other women at an aquarium that they were hearing voices from aquatic animals. It was no wonder her dating life was not a sizzling affair.

"Could you practice on not your things? Items in public. Perhaps I could find you something. I wonder if- hm."

A moment of pause as he clearly pondered an idea.

"How is it you stumble upon memories? The more recent they are, the easier they are to find?"

Well. It was more that she just didn't know what to look for, if she was just using it on random things in public. It really worked best when she knew the person who she was snooping on to some extent. But she nodded to the question. It sort of worked like that, except she could pick up other things, too, if she looked hard enough. Thoughts. Feelings. But she held that to her.

"If I get enough time with it, I can sort of... sift through the obvious things. The boring parts. The things I've already seen. But it's a balance between doing that and not going deep enough for the... hallucinating."

That seemed murky. He nodded, drumming his fingers on the table.

"How can I help you practice, then?" he asked, having some idea of his own but uncertain now if it was ridiculous or useful.

Beauregard was curious as to what sorts of hallucinations she suffered. What a dreadful, but interesting side effect.

It was somewhat fuzzy-feeling when someone was so intent on helping her. She smiled and started her second drink, also feeling a little warm thanks to that, though she hadn't been helping it along magically.

"Mm, well." How does someone help her with an ability that functioned best sneakily? "I guess, you could try giving me something, and asking me to look for a specific memory through it. Like a scavenger hunt."

Niamh had done that. When she'd had Rika find out about Spencer. She wondered how she was doing, but being with Beauregard sort of precluded her from reaching out, didn't it?

He nodded. What items did he have in his life that he felt comfortable sharing? That she could sift through every moment of his life (and possibly his mind) involving some object or another felt very dangerous.

Then it occurred to him quite suddenly at least one item they could play with. He smirked.

"I have a shifter's credit card from over a year ago," he said. "Back when I was in that nasty clutch downtown. That would be fun to look through."

Rika watched him consider and sipped down (slowly) her second dessertini thing. And then he made his offer, and she brightened to that. "That'd work. I could see if anything interesting popped up out of it."

Though, curiosity, and she ended up adding with a giggle, "It's funny that you still have it."

Through moving and all that however many times he must have moved... why?

He smiled, somewhat caught red-handed in a peculiarity of his.

"I am prone to keeping small trinkets. Emphasis on small. I put them in a box and every few years go through and toss most of them."

In this case, they were in his office drawer, but the sentiment was similar.

"This particular shifter is likely a large part of the reason I was asked to leave that clutch. I did try to give her card back, but when she refused, I suppose I felt I had to keep it."

Oh? She wondered if he'd ever kept anything of hers, but she was pretty good about leaving no trace. And now she didn't get to go to his fancy apartment anymore. Wherever he lived now.

"After you'd been so nice?" she asked. "Oh well. Now I can play with it."

Given with the kind of grinning shrug that came with playful, slowly growing intoxication. Rika was a little used to making herself very drunk very fast for him; it was nice to not feel rushed.

"Do youuuu... wanna play with people's feelings a little?" she asked, moving to rest her hand on a curled up fist. Kind of an innocent flirty.

If only he had it on him. He would have to bring it on their next outing, he supposed.

She was already on to a different ability, and Beauregard took a glance around the restaurant rather conspiratorially.

"My power is yours," he said. "Tell me who you want, and how you'd like them to feel."

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