genessia | Cat got in. [Action] [Telepathy]

Who: Daimon Winter, illusionist at large--and whoever feels like saying hello!
What: Exploring, physically and telepathically.
Where: the Bay
When: November 28 evening

Daimon rolled over suddenly and sat up, hair askew and green eyes full of hazy confusion. "...mnuh?" The box slid off his chest and thumped against the rim of his sleep pod. He wiped his face and looked around, then reached out to grab it and investigate it.

It took him a few minutes to sort out the note, the communicator and necklace, and then he sort of sat on the edge of the pod shaking his head. "Bloody Hell, I've been randomly telepath-napped." Grumbling quietly, he pocketed the communicator, letter and cash, managing to keep calm in spite of everything. The necklace he lifted and examined, holding it against his chest. "Hm. I'm going to look like an Indian pimp with all this jewelry." But he put it on regardless.

None of this made any sense, but all he could really do right now was try and verify what the note said. First telepathically, and then physically, once he knew which way to go. Sighing through his nose, he closed his eyes, and let his consciousness start to expand past the area, lightly touching the minds of others as he encountered them. He wasn't prying deep into people's heads, or even trying to conceal his presence that much. Just drifting around catching people's moods and perhaps a few surface thoughts as he scanned for anxiety, hostility or the like. His own mind was wary but curious, with a certain warmth.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"An Indian pimp? Sounds fascinating."

It seemed the woman casually reclining against one of the Bay's cavernous exits had overheard at least some of his self-commentary. Her arms were folded beneath her breasts, amusement decorating her smile.

She had no idea what an Indian was, but she could guess it was someone (or something) exotic.

Lust made no move to approach him, seeing no need to get her feet wet a second time in as many hours as she'd been here. She knew very little about him for the time being, but that would soon change. It would be useful to know about the other creatures this city had chosen to awaken within its chambers, to perhaps determine why she, of all beings, would be plucked from her universe and set here.

Daimon looked over and his eyes lit up a little, then crinkled at the corners with puzzlement. "Oh hullo!" he called over cheerfully enough. Removing his shoes and socks, he tucked them under his arm and calmly walked over, toes wiggling in the water.

He expanded his senses toward her a little, just enough to make sure she wasn't a particularly gorgeous immediate threat. "Eh, I'm no kind of pimp, it's only one in a thousand who treats his ladies proper. Which is atrocious." A little half-smile as he took her in, not in a leering way but with a hint of flirtation.

"Daimon's the name, and normally I'm a bit less out of sorts than this."

There was mild curiosity on her part, but nothing overtly hostile. But for a homunculus, hostility seldom came into the picture when killing people, no more than a person might feel hostility toward the lint plucked from his shoulder.

"I wasn't aware you were so well-versed on the subject," she arched a brow, smiling calmly. She didn't stir from where she stood, but she did hitch a shoulder slightly as she replied to his introduction.

"I'm called Lust." What need was there for a false identity? She could be perfectly forthright when she wished to be.

"My mum didn't raise me to disrespect her gender. And I don't think much of a man who uses women. And people don't do well when I don't think much of them." A dark gleam appeared in his eye for a moment as he stepped up on the bank and stopped at conversation range. Or...maybe a half step inside. Little, mischievous quirk of his lips. Then he smiled again, more pleasantly. "But anyway. That's hardly a topic for casual conversation."

His head tilted curiously at her name, and he almost looked impressed. "Well, it would be redundant to wax on about the appropriateness of your title. I'm certain you're quite aware of your power over men." He couldn't not acknowledge her appeal, but it would be equally disrespectful to completely focus on it. But there was a flicker of sadness in his eyes for a moment, for she reminded him a little too much of some of the Lilim he might not be seeing for a while.

He stood casually, manner nonthreatening, and managed to keep his curious mind to itself. "Well, Lady Lust. Are you a local, then?"

"I'm like you," Lust replied, her smile never fading, nor even flickering when he looked her over and commented on her name. She was accustomed to hearing such remarks long ago. "I woke up here not too long ago myself. See?" Her gloved fingertips lightly traced the necklace that ornamented her throat and dipped down the delicate lines of her collarbone and the odd tattoo placed just above her breasts.

"These trinkets help us to distinguish one another from the natives."

"...oh. Well. Now I feel a bit silly." He touched his collar, managing to keep his eyes out of her cleavage after a brief admiring look at the tattoo. "Gorgeous ink."

He walked out of the archway a little bit and looked around. "Nice enough place by appearances. How tight is the law enforcement?" She looked and acted like a film noir femme fatale, so he figured she wouldn't mind a bit of conversation about legal naughtiness.

Cat got in. [Action] [Telepathy]

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