Pictures in the Dark

[formidable]

General PSL/FUNBOX post for aurajen and formidable. Lots of OC shenanigans. ➢ Cool Mood Music No. 1 ➤ Cool Mood Music No. 2

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[stripedsoul]

[Oh, awesome, a free ice cream sandwich! Clearly, you are his new best friend, Oren. Ryan takes it, offering a quick "hey, thanks!" and only briefly looks it over before taking a bite. Classic vanilla. Unlike this strange man, Ryan is not an ice cream connoisseur, and he's isn't nearly as critical of it as Oren.

As one might be able to tell, from the way he's nearly inhaling the damn thing. He's partly aware enough to not make himself look like a huge slob, but just barely. Just barely.

Either that, or he realizes that he can't eat as quickly as he wants without suffering from a gigantic brain freeze. Again, unlike a certain someone.

During one of these moments where he forces himself to slow down a little, he looks at Oren, raising a brow.]

Knock on wood, silent stranger. Everyone gets sick every once in awhile; doesn't matter how good your immune system is.

[Unless you're not a.. normal person, the thought briefly flits across his mind. He pauses, realizing that it wouldn't be the first strange thing about this man he's noticed.]

Right...? [He offers, unhelpfully.]

[oren]

[Oren's gaze can be piercing as if he can see through a person for what they really are. It's that gaze that he's giving Ryan and he doesn't speak for a few seconds.]

For some people.

[Other people get sick. Oren's not quite people.]

[stripedsoul]

[Ryan refuses to be intimidated by that gaze, and crosses his arms across his chest, giving Oren a cheeky smile. (He might be fidgeting a little, though, shifting his weight uncertainly, and it's hard to take him seriously when one hand is latching onto half an ice-cream sandwich.)]

R...ight.

[He's covering up his uncertainty with a large helping of sarcasm.]

Do we want to keep up the hush-hush, mysterious stares, cloak-and-dagger act, or are you trying to say something?

[oren]

Nothing.

[He'll leave it at that.]

Eating a lot? Eat nutrient rich foods.

[And Oren slowly points to the trucks that probably offer more balanced options aside from gooey sweets and fried golden treats.]

Suggestion.

[stripedsoul]

["Nothing", huh? Ryan wonders if it really is just nothing. But really, he's easily distracted right now when Oren points at one of the other food trucks. He turns back to look at him, smiling.]

And a good suggestion, too. [Despite the fact that he's going to finish up his sandwich right about... now, Ryan knows the importance of a balanced diet! He's an active guy who works out pretty often, and used to engage in all manner of sports and martial arts.]

Hey, do you want anything? I owe you for the sandwich, and I brought some spare change with me. Fifteen whole dollars.

[oren]

No.

[oren doesn't mean to SOUND like that, but...]

[stripedsoul]

[SHOT DOWN.

Ryan arches a brow again.] Come on. [Any lesser man would have been deterred by Oren's blunt answer, but not this guy. No, he's as stubborn as a mule, or some other four-legged animal.] I insist.

[He grasps a hand around Oren's forearm, tugging a little to encourage him to walk with him.] Anything you want.

[oren]

[Oren is unaffected by the tugging. He's been tugged a lot in his lifetime. Like, a lot, a lot.]

Ate enough.

Five trucks.

[stripedsoul]

[He lets go of Oren (not that he was succeeding in making the man move, it was like trying to move a boulder) because, really, five trucks? He was just trying to be nice, and he's not going to force someone to eat when they've already visited five trucks.]

Five? [He echoes his thoughts out loud, as Ryan is prone to do. And he follows up with a quip, as he's also prone to do.] Someone's not watching their figure, are they?

[And he doesn't give Oren time to respond to that, because it's one of those jokes he drops and then bulldozes over, not expecting a legitimate response. In this case, it's probably warranted.]

So are you a food critic? A food truck critic?

[oren]

No.

[At least Oren's straight forward.]

Just passing through.

[stripedsoul]

[Being straight forward just means Ryan can do more of the talking, of which he will gladly oblige.]

So then why all the food? Unless you have... er, an appetite like mine?

[He hesitates, but just has to add:] Which is definitely not normal.

[oren]

Not really.

[THE MOST EXCITING MAN IN THE WORLD.

That said, the fact that he can shovel that much food is not normal at all.]

[stripedsoul]

[Brow quirk.]

Really? Because anyone who can eat like me is definitely not normal.

[oren]

...

[And although they're in the middle of a large crowd, there would be no one that would be able to hear Oren's question as he stares piercingly at Ryan. A simple, but loaded question.]

What are you?

[stripedsoul]

[He wasn't expecting that, and he looks surprised, before falling back into his usual flippant manner.]

Now that's the existential question of the day if I've ever heard one.

[But he sets his jaw a little, and then a little more seriously:] What makes you ask?

[oren]

... Never mind.

[Someone's calling him over; a young African American woman in the distance waves at Oren excitedly and points to a truck.]

Going now.

[stripedsoul]

Woah, hey wait.

[You can't just leave it at that, he thinks to himself, making an effort to grab at Oren's sleeve before he can turn around. His hands slips when he thinks it shouldn't, and he frowns, briefly confused before realizing -- Ah, right. Hands, not claws.

He shakes his head, tossing the thought aside, then returns to the issue at hand.]

Okay, fine. I'll bite. I'm a tiger.

[...Which might sound like a joke to the odd passerby, it's such an unusual admission. And given Ryan's personality, it would be a fair assumption. But he isn't joking, not this time.] You?

[oren]

Not a tiger.

[OREN PLEASE.

And he says it so dully that it's hard to parse whether he's being sarcastic, serious or both at once!!]

[stripedsoul]

[Ryan pouts frowns, obviously unsatisfied with that answer.]

That's as helpful as saying you're also not a goldfish.

[He writes it off as the stranger's form of sarcasm, because Ryan can smell those kinds of farces from miles away.]

I told you, you tell me. Only fair, right?

[It's not everyday he meets unusual people in the "real world"; often only when he's acting as Alanna's glorified errand boy does he meet those like him, and lately those individuals don't even live in the same dimension. He feels special, finding someone on his own accord.]

[oren]

[... And uncharacteristically...]




Golem.

[... Oren returns the favor.

He will be turning around to walk towards the wavy haired woman though. That's more than enough sharing even for him.]

[stripedsoul]

[Golem? Ryan's never met a golem before. He was pretty sure they were supposed to be made of stone, too, not look like tall, beautiful men.

He's opening his mouth to ask another question, but suddenly the golem-man has already turned around and beginning to walk off.

He won't chase him this time, but he'll at least call out:]

Cool, you got a name, golem guy?

[So loud and uncaring of who might hear....]

[oren]

... Maybe next time.

[And god knows when that will be? But Oren's lived long enough to know that luck has it's way of working around uncertainties.]

[stripedsoul]

[What, no name? Ryan can't be bothered to even be offended at that -- in fact, he just kind of laughs it off, shrugging. He gives a little half-wave, a lazy flick of the wrist, really.]

Next time, then.

[He wonders if there will even be a next time, but even if there isn't, at least he can say he's met a real-life golem. Alanna would probably just scoff at him for being so easily impressed, but he wouldn't care.

But for now, it's time to pillage more food trucks until he can't eat another bite.]