City of Shadows Mux City of Shadows Mux

A Little Bargain
"Your ritual lends me a little bit of your human-ness."
Players Solomon, Javi	7 July, 2022 Solomon and Javi make a deal. Javi's fine. Everything is fine.
Javi's apartment building is not the nicest one in the vicinity, but it's also not the absolute worst. It's pretty nondescript, actually, though there are some nice details leftover from the period it was first built. Visitors technically have to be buzzed up, but there's enough traffic going in and out that someone could use to enter it without announcing themselves, if they wanted to do that and were willing to wait a bit. Of course, Javi did advise Solomon to let him know when he was coming, but whether he did or not is out of the resident's hands. Either way, it doesn't take long to get up to 5F, which Javi had said was his, and though the door is shut, presumably he's there. Unless he was lying, and he doesn't actually live here. As it turns out, Solomon seems content not to go full stalker. He texts Javi a good twenty minutes before showing up, and even asks if it's a good time. Assuming the answer was yes, here he is - he's in his casual, after work clothes, so jeans, t-shirt, and a light, scuffed leather jacket. He's also got a six-pack of Pacifico under one arm as he makes his way up to the 5th Floor, just sidling in behind someone who didn't quite have the courage to call him on the trespassing. So there's a knock knock on the door he was told was Javi's. Well, it's definitely //someone's// apartment, because right after the knock there's some shuffling around from behind the door. Approaching footsteps, some soft scraping that might be something dragging a little on a wooden floor -- yikes -- then a pause of a few seconds. Then, finally, a deadbolt turning. And also sliding a chain, but there's only two locks, not some ridiculous number. Two is probably appropriate for the neighborhood. Then, finally, the door opens, and it does turn out to be the person Solomon expects to see. "Hey." Javi's looking a little disheveled, but only in the way of someone who's had a long day. He pulls the door open further, leaning out to look both ways down the hall before stepping aside so the other man can come in. He doesn't seem to be looking for anything in particular. Maybe it's just a habit. "You want food? I got tacos." Solomon's head is tilted to one side as the sounds happen on the other side of the door, and he's looking puzzled but...moderately pleasant as the door opens. "Tacos go great with beer. I'm in." He flashes his teeth. "Still a good time? If you've got a corpse in there, well, I didn't expect that, but I'm flexible." Javi perks up when he sees the beer, a wide smile spreading onto his face as he nods. "Oh yeah," he confirms, "it's fine. No dead bodies today. Kinda rude when you got guests." Once Solomon is inside, he closes the door and locks it again, then starts toward what's probably the kitchen, leaving the other man to look around should he choose to do so -- and there's actually plenty to see, most of it kind of weird. There's some sort of symbol drawn on the door, though it's faded -- a design that heavily features concentric circles. There's also a little cabinet in the corner, holding a sort of lumpy, pear-shaped statuette with a little bowl in front of it, probably for an offering. Currently, it holds what looks like a Rollo, vaguely conical with a flat top and wrapped in gold paper. It's all normal to the occupant, of course, and so he just comes out of the kitchen again a minute or so later with a couple of plates and a large-ish takeout container. "How you doing?" he asks as he comes to set them down on the coffee table. "How're your bugs?" Solomon offers the six-pack to be taken to the kitchen, fridge, or wherever Javi would gestures to place it. From the chill on it, it was likely freshly bought on the way here. He doesn't bother to hide his examination of the interior, paying special attention to the design and the little statuette. A brief smile at the identification of the Rollo. When Javi returns, though, Solomon's attention reorients to him, and he moves to the coffee table to find a seat. "Doing well, all considered. And the bugs are thriving. I had to redesign one of my vivariums to accomodate a giant stick insect, but she's settling in nicely, now. And yourself?" His gaze flicks up to the dishevelement, and he...is he...yes, he sniffs Javi. It's not hugely obvious, but his nostrils flare. "What about yourself?" The beers can go on the table, too, and Javi pulls out a bottle opener once he's set down the plates and the tacos so that he can open one for each of them. "Cool," he remarks -- and while maybe he doesn't think it's //as// cool as Solomon does, there's at least some true interest there. "Do you, like, actually take 'em out to hang with you and stuff?" He straightens up to pass over one of the beers, which is right about when the sniffing happens. The scents are probably what one could expect at the end of a work day that probably involves manual labor -- sweat, mixed with typical hygiene stuff, and probably some kind of hair products. Javi, however, gives Solomon a //bit// of a strange look after it, though ultimately opts to let it go. For the moment. "I'm good," he replies instead. "Did a move today, took for-fucking-ever. Some people have so much shit in their places, man, it's unbelievable." He shakes his head incredulously as he drops onto the well-worn couch, taking a long pull from //his// beer, then reaching to open the container that does contain plenty of tacos for the both of them. The beers go on the table. They know what they did. Solomon drops into an empty seat, himself, and relaxes. "Some of them, on occasion," he says. "Most insects do not particularly like to be handled. Some are more social than you might expect, but few of them are 'cuddly'. They like stimulation - new things to scent, to climb on, and the like. But they don't want to be petted or 'played with' in the sense of other animals." When the container's opened, he snags a beer, then a taco - after Javi's had his pick. "Some people like to make dens. All my stuff. All safe, all in the same place." A light snort. He glances to the statue and its offering. As he unwraps the taco, he waggles it towards it. "Mind if I ask about that? And the symbol?" "Got it." Javi takes two -- one is inhaled immediately in about two bites, the other set on the plate to enjoy in a more leisurely manner. Then he leans back against the couch again with a long sigh, content with life for the moment. "Makes sense," he continues once he's swallowed. "Probably interesting to watch 'em do stuff. But if I'm gonna take care of something besides me I wanna be able to pet it." He grins, then nods again at the assessment of people and their things. "Yeah. Guess it don't really matter if you got a shitton of it when you can pay people to move it for you." He reaches for his beer again, though the question has his gaze shifting away and toward the items in question. Door first, then shrine. "Oh," he says with a shrug, "sure. So you can't really keep out every ghost with one thing. They're kinda individual, I guess. Just like people. But there's one I really didn't want coming in here, that keeps her out." This is coupled with a nod to the door to indicate the symbol. "That guy's Eleguá, an Orisha. You know anything about Santería?" Solomon eats not quite as quickly, but his teeth slice right through the tortilla with barely any resistence at all. He takes his time, though. "Only the basics," he admits, with a smile. "Haven't met many people who practiced openly. Elegua. Is he the Orisha you were born to?" A nod to the information about the ghosts. "Taboos and banes. It's surprising how many supernatural things have them." "Yeah." Javi nods, his expression softening a bit as he regards the lumpy little figure with the cowrie shell eyes and mouth. It's not the most beautiful sculpture, but there's definitely something appealing about it. "A little tough, you really gotta keep him happy. But he likes candy, food. Stuff like that, so nothing too crazy. I'm not, like, a real Santero or anything but you know. Can't hurt, right?" He shrugs, taking another sip from his beer. "Right," he agrees, "that. Mostly they ain't that bad but when you get a real mad one, you don't really want it hanging out with you all the time, you know?" "Who doesn't like candy?" asks the bug man who has a very well-stocked candy stash in his office. And his home. Solomon grins, takes another bite. "And no, can't hurt. I light a candle to Saint Anthony pretty regularly, myself." He finishes off one taco, reaches for the beer to savor a few sip. "Does that happen often? Getting hostile ghosts attached to you?" "Right?" Javi gestures toward Solomon with the bottle in agreement, continuing, "To be honest if I was a god of something I'd probably want people to give me candy, too." At least this all bodes well for his ability to do tasks that may be simple but require consistent application. He seems pleased at Solomon's admission, too -- at least, his grin returns in full force, even if it's only briefly, in light of the question. "Um. Kind of?" He shrugs again, reaching up to scratch his temple with one finger as he considers. "Not, like, //all// the time. Sometimes. Think maybe it's like, when there's someone who can see 'em they kinda get excited. Dunno if that makes sense. Some of 'em can't do a whole lot except moan, but some can do other stuff. Move shit around, make you feel emotions that ain't yours. Some of 'em can get in." He taps his head to indicate what he means by //that//. "Usually not, though. Only been a couple that did that." "I'd definitely want people to give me candy," Solomon agrees, without hesitation. "And, I dunno, decent music. But mostly candy." He takes another pull from the bottle. "On the other hand, gods are assholes. Saints are okay; they get suffering. Empathy. But a god? Massive fucking asshole. When you have that kind of power, other people aren't...people anymore." He stops himself before he goes off on a rant Javi did not ask for. There's a grimace at the idea of a ghost //getting in//, and he shudders. And takes another swig of beer. "That's too many," he suggests. "You always been like that? Able to see 'em?" "Oh man, yeah." Javi's head tilts back and his eyes close briefly as he considers what he'd do if he were a god. "All the time. Just anyone I want, whenever." It's a nice thought -- though Solomon's next comments break the reverie a little bit and his eyes open again. A little huff escapes him, and he has to concede, "But yeah, probably wouldn't really want that other stuff." He leaves that there, finishing off the beer and setting aside the bottle with a shake of his head. "Nah." He's reaching for another beer, so he's not really looking at Solomon, but from what can be seen of his profile his smile has dropped off again. His face really does seem to show everything that crosses his mind the moment it does. "Started like ten years ago." He doesn't expand at the moment, but maybe that's because he's looking curious again. "You always had your stuff?" Solomon is watching that expressive face closely, between swigs of beer. But at least he's not sniffing him anymore. There's a shake of his head. "Nah. I was...perfectly ordinary, for whatever the definition of that is. I got," a pause, "kidnapped, I guess you could say. Dragged off and rebuilt from the soul up, into something that something else wanted. Eventually escaped, clawed my way back here to the real world." He shrugs. "Got to keep the upgrades." He grins, briefly, although it fades. Then, after a moment, he adds, "But what I escaped from? It wants me _back_. So I need to shake it off my trail. One of the ways I do that is if someone like you helps me blend in." The answer has Javi's eyes widening, and he sits forward a little bit as he cuts a look to the door. Is he expecting something horrible to burst in any moment and carry the other man off again? Well, possibly. Luckily, that does not happen. "Damn," he murmurs, "That sucks." Even with the upgrades. Now the curiosity is giving way to a bit of that wariness, too -- there's a thread of tension across his shoulders that he doesn't bother to try and shake. "Blend in how?" he continues after a moment. And then, just for clarity: "You said it's not gonna be dangerous. Right? 'Cause yeah." He, after all, does not have any upgrades. The ghosts don't count. Solomon catches that look at the door, and lets out a little chuckle. He, at least, doesn't seem worried about the prospect of IMMEDIATE reclamation. He just reaches to snag another taco, unwraps, and starts eating. He pauses in the middle to say, "Believe me when I say you have no idea how much it sucks." Then he continues to nom. The other questions wait until he's polished off the taco. He wipes his mouth on a napkin, and says, "Magic shit. Your ritual lends me a little bit of your human-ness. And not in a way that's like 'I'm sucking out your soul'. It just helps me tell the world that I belong here, so when things come sniffing around to try and find me, I don't smell quite so _wrong_." Another pause. "It's not actually smell. It's a metaphor. And no, the ritual isn't dangerous." Javi seems to have forgotten his other taco, what with the ghosts and the otherworldly kidnappings (and, honestly, all the sniffing). "That why you smelled me just now?" he remarks a little dryly, but there's at least //some// amusement there, even if it's a bit dark. "I was gonna shower but I got home late." You're welcome for that information, Solomon. He starts to say something else, but before he can he makes a face and turns his head again, lifting his hand to flick his fingers by his ear at...well, nothing visible. But that's probably par for the course. It's only a brief distraction, anyway. "So I rub off on you a little bit," he continues once he refocuses. "Okay. Doesn't sound that bad." "Nah," Solomon says, with a lazy sort of smile, "I just like smelling people." He knows it's creepy. He KNOWS. He says it anyway, although the amusement suggests he's teasing. Mostly teasing. "And yeah, that's basically it. You're helping me hide from very, very nasty things. As long as you do what you promise, there's not much danger to you; it's all //mystic//. But making a deal with someone like me means that breaking your word has consequences. Not because I'll know, or I'll hurt you. It's just the nature of the promise. I couldn't stop it from hurting you if I wanted to." Does he seem like he WOULD want to? Maybe not. "On the other hand, whatever it is you want me to do for you in return? If I don't do it, I lose that protection. I'm exposed, vulnerable to those very nasty things. So it's an exchange. A choice. Just one with consequences for us both." He takes another swig of beer. "You thought about that, by the way? What you want from me?" "Kinda fucking weird, man. Just saying." However, Javi is still grinning, even if he's also pretty obviously a little creeped out by it. As far as Solomon knows him in their short acquaintance, he hasn't seemed to be too invested in putting up much of a front about not being scared of things. Just the right amount of self-preservation, indeed. "But I got it," he confirms. "Like I said, I'll do what I say I'm gonna do. Gotta feed that guy all the time," and here he nods to the little statue. "Not that hard to add another thing." Here again he starts to continue, but before he can he lets out a little frustrated sound and turns back to that place in the air. "Cállate, cabrón," he says, annoyance seeping into his tone -- though there's also an odd sort of fondness underneath it. A pause of a few seconds; then: "Because it's none of your business." His hand comes up again so he can flick his fingers again, and when he turns back to Solomon he looks vaguely embarrassed. "Sorry," he says, before he continues as if he hasn't just been talking to the air. "Um, I dunno. Kinda want a better job, maybe you could help with that? I'd say help with the ghosts, but I feel like you're gonna be into doing that anyway. But we could say that, so it's more official, if you want. Don't really need that much, to be honest." "It is," Solomon assures him, with a smile. And no shame whatsoever. Nor is he bothering to hide how amused he is by Javi's combination of chill and creeped out. There's a thoughtful nod. "Good. Keeping your word is an excellent trait in a person." He might be about to say more, but freezes as Javi starts talking to the air. His eyes track, trying to follow the direction of the other man's attention, and he sniffs the air again. Not that ghosts have a smell; it seems to be as much instinct as anything else. The moment passes, and his eyes flick back to Javi. "I can't promise you a better job, but I can promise to help you find one to the extent of my abilities within legal parameters. You don't seem like the type of guy who'd be okay if I just fucked someone over to open a opportunity." He stands up. "C'mon. We're going for a walk. Take me somewhere around here that's quiet and no one's likely to see anything." He bares his teeth, absolutely aware of how that sounds. Of course, there's nothing there for Solomon to see (or smell), and now Javi seems to be very set on ignoring whatever it was. Or whoever, really, since it's obviously a ghost. But they also obviously haven't shut up, judging by his expression. Still, there's no more talk back from the apartment's corporeal resident, and he's making a pretty good effort to maintain focus on the other man. "Okay," he says again, with a nod. "That works." He does not deny that he is not that kind of guy. He just stands up instead, letting out a little snort. "This is how I die, huh?" he remarks, to no one in particular. Or, you know. Someone in particular. Just not Solomon. He grabs a jacket that's hanging on a hook near the door, shrugging into it and reaching out to brush a finger across the little statue's head before he unlocks the door to step outside. "You don't care if it's a graveyard, right?" he asks, his smile tilting a little crookedly. "Kinda on the nose but there ain't gonna be no one there right now. And anyway it's big." "Nope. Graveyard's good. Not a lot of collateral damage potential there," Solomon says, cheerfully. He follows Javi out into the hall, giving the apartment another searching look before the door is closed. Aside from his persistent refusal to say anything reassuring, though, he seems to be on good behavior; he's happy to follow along where Javi leads, without sniffing any of the people they might happen to see on the way. He does...sing, though. Very quietly, under his breath, a jaunty little tune that sounds very sweet until you listen to the words: "Got a secret, can you keep it, swear this one you'll save, better lock it in your pocket, taking this one to the grave..." "Right on." Javi locks the place up once they're both outside, and then they're off! He seems completely fine with Solomon's lack of reassurances -- he probably isn't the sort of person who expects to get reassured about things. Most likely because he hasn't actually //been// reassured very much about things in his life. Of course, that would call for speculation. Also unsurprisingly, he is unerring in his path toward the graveyard he has in mind. His hands slide into his pockets as they go, and though every once in a while he looks off to the side Solomon //isn't// on, he's mostly not distracted by any specters that might be attending them as well. A good thing, since there will surely be more where they're going. However, after a couple of blocks he does catch enough of Solomon's murmured song to remark upon it. "This fucking guy," he mutters with a little shiver, shaking his head and cutting a look over to the older man. "Jesus Christ." Luckily, they're almost there anyway. When they arrive, Javi doesn't even hesitate to pass the little swinging arm gate meant to keep out cars. It does nothing for people. He starts to lead them through the front, wending his way over the little swells of grass and around various headstones for several minutes until they come to a little pond-like water feature that can't be seen at all from any of the roads that surround it. It's actually quite peaceful, and probably beautiful in the daylight. "Okay," he pronounces. "Here you go." There's a low chuckle at the shiver and comment. Solomon meets the look with an amused one of his own. Although he's better at controlling his face than Javi tends to be, and there's something /other/ than amusement there, too. Something brief but approving when Javi keeps going. Like the younger man, Solomon has no hesitation - or trouble - in hopping the gate. As they walk through the quiet memorials, he scans the grounds with sudden and complete seriousness. He pauses to look at the water feature, and shakes his head. A beckoning hand to draw Javi away from that, deeper into the shadows. "Let the bargain between us, Javier Reyes, be struck without mask or lies. As I demand truth, so I give it." And with that, his body begins to tear itself apart. At least, that's how it looks in that first moment, when his Mask peels itself away from his flesh and skin, leaving the truth of what he is underneath: his pale blue eyes are large and faceted, and they reflect Javi in perfect multiplication despite the darkness. There are strange little protrusions at the corners of his mouth, thick feelers that wave in the air. His skin is interrupted with chitinous plates in a pale, sickly yellow, and his fingers are long, ending in sharp, serrated points that look more than capable of doing real damage. And there's a sound - faint and unnerving, the sound of a wasp hive on the other side of a wall that might fall at any moment. He says nothing for a moment, just gives the mortal a chance to take in someone who...isn't, quite, mortal anymore. Javi does take a moment to look over the water feature, and as he does an odd sort of peace comes over him. His body, with all its usually sharp quick movements, actually stills, and another of the smiles that are //just// a little too sweet to belong in most of the places he and Solomon have encountered each other so far spreads across his face. That's all short-lived, though. He turns away when the other man gestures for him to follow, and he does it without delay. He can understand the gravity of the situation even if he's never been in it before, and so his expression shifts into something far more solemn when the ritual begins. And then, when the other man begins to shed the Mask, to fear. There's a different sort of stillness in him as he stares at the transformation happening in front of him. It radiates barely-contained energy, the sort that begs to be immediately released into an attack -- or a flight. In fact, everything about him projects those alarm bells that have to be screaming at him to run, even if there's no way he'd be able to outrun whatever this is. He's so still he doesn't even seem to be breathing. There's a very real possibility that this will not happen, because he's about to be off like a shot into the night. However, somehow, he doesn't. Of course, maybe he just can't move right now from fear -- but it does actually seem to be a real decision to stay. The only thing that moves is his hand. It reaches out toward something at his side, fingers curling loosely as if taking someone's hand that isn't there. Finally, after several agonizing seconds, he manages a nod. Just one. He does not manage to speak yet. Hopefully nothing more is expected of him at the moment. There's stillness on Solomon's side, too. Perhaps it's because he suspects that any sudden movements might snap the self-control Javi's clearly exercising. Or, maybe, it's because he's steeling himself against the possibility that the mortal might reject the image before him, and remind Solomon, terribly, of what he no longer is. When Javi manages that single nod, Solomon takes a slow, deep breath. A nod in return. His voice is the same, at least, and he says, quietly, "Here is the bargain I propose, Javier Reyes. I will aid you to gain prosperity and employment, using my skills and resources to help you, although I'll neither harm nor kill for you. In return, I ask that you be true to our bargain, and as proof of your word, that you spill a tablespoon of sugar water on a windowsill every morning, without fail. If this is amenable to you, then simply say that you agree and the bargain shall be struck between us." There's neither teasing nor amusement in his voice or the strange, inhuman face. This is serious business, and his demeanor reflects that, his gaze unblinking and unwavering. It's going to take Javi a minute. First, he remembers to breathe, and the one he was holding leaves him in a quiet rush. Next, a visible release of tension across his shoulders; it's forced, but it works well enough. Then, he tears his gaze away from Solomon's eyes to really look at the rest of him. It's not pretty -- it isn't nice. But he still stays where he is. The only thing that doesn't change is his hand curled next to him around the air. "Yeah." That's what he tries to say, anyway. It doesn't come out the first time, and he has to clear his throat and try again. The second time, it works. "Yeah." Quiet, but voiced. Then: "Yes. I agree." Solomon grins. It bares teeth that are...sharper and somewhat more fearsome than the standard human variety, jagged in places as if in some other time they wanted to be mandibles. It's only a brief showing, at least, and he sighs. "Good. Then we are agreed." That insectile buzzing rises sharply for a second...then cuts off. His human skin crawls back over his true form, knitting itself back into place in a way that is //every// bit as disturbing as watching it shred in the first place. At least once it's done, Solomon looks human once more. He looks around, with a frown, then gestures at Javi. "And now we leave. Quickly. Take us the long way around back to your place." Shouldn't Javi feel better once Solomon is back to the way he was? Surely he ought to feel better. It's painfully clear he does not. Even that warning from the other man fails to move him right away. He's stuck in place, an unnatural pallor to his skin that can be noted even in the dark. After that last long pause, though, his head snaps to the side, toward that space in the air where he'd been interacting with something no one else can see. At least, no one here. "Right," he murmurs, "sorry." He starts to move away, shoving his hands deep in the pockets of his jacket as he takes them around the back, around the pond and further away from the front entrance. This manner of egress is a little more complicated, and involves scaling a low wall that nonetheless requires a little climbing. But it isn't impassable. Soon enough they're on the street again, and he's leading them through quite a bit more of an unpleasant route to return to the start. The only comfort is that he can pretend this circuitous path requires so much concentration that he can't carry on any sort of conversation. "//Now//, Javi," Solomon snaps when the younger man fails to move. He looks...nervous. Perhaps a little //hunted//, even, and he makes an audible sound of relief when Javi finally starts moving. He follows in near silence, and doesn't hesitate at all to scramble over the wall with long-limbed dexterity. Insects are good at walls, after all. He lands on the other side with a quiet //oomph//. As they walk, he doesn't try to break the silence. Instead, his eyes are flicking from one side to the other, actively looking for...something. For once, Javi is not the one looking around for anything that might be coming to get them. Luckily for everyone, Solomon seems perfectly capable of taking care of that now. Despite the slow start, he seems to have taken Solomon's direction to heart -- they really are going the long way around. In fact so much so that any mundane person without an excellent sense of direction is likely to be pretty lost. On one of the doubled-back streets, he actually does start to talk, though it's so low that everything can't be heard. And in Spanish, too, so he can't be talking to his companion. But if the other man understands the little snippets that can be made out, they go something like this: "...too late to do anything about it now. ...think I don't know that? ...had to one of these days. ..." And so on. But every journey must come to an end, and finally, mercifully, they arrive at the apartment. At least he's quick to open the door now, leading them through and up to the apartment. He gets them inside, locking the door, and as soon as he does he heads to that little statue and pulls a half-melted candle from behind it. He digs into his pocket for a book of matches and strikes one -- his hand trembles just enough to notice as he brings it toward the wick, but he manages to light it without incident. Then and only then does he seem to settle. Not completely, but enough. @emit If Javi's in any state to pay attention, he might notice that Solomon's eyes flicker at the snippets of Spanish - and not with confusion. But Solomon doesn't do anything more overt to indicate his comprehension. He simply follows in silence...%r%rAt least, to inside the door. Once just inside, he opens his mouth, but doesn't catch it in time. Now the door's locked and Javi's moving away to light his candle. Solomon stands there. Possibly menacingly, but mostly awkwardly. "...I can leave. If you'd prefer. It's a lot." The tone is more sympathetic than anything. If Javi's in any state to pay attention, he might notice that Solomon's eyes flicker at the snippets of Spanish - and not with confusion. But Solomon doesn't do anything more overt to indicate his comprehension. He simply follows in silence... At least, to inside the door. Once just inside, he opens his mouth, but doesn't catch it in time. Now the door's locked and Javi's moving away to light his candle. Solomon stands there. Possibly menacingly, but mostly awkwardly. "...I can leave. If you'd prefer. It's a lot." The tone is more sympathetic than anything. "It's okay." Is it? There's a little uncertainty in those words, but the sentiment is a bit more firm when Javi adds, "You don't gotta go if you don't want to. Up to you. I'mma have another beer, though." There are still some left in the six pack, after all, and it is the sort of night to make use of alcohol, especially when it was free. And so he does just that, heading to the couch and opening up one of the bottles. And then another, pushing it toward Solomon. Hey, if the other man doesn't want it, he'll drink it eventually instead. He takes a long pull, settling back on the couch. There's no more talking to invisible beings. If one is still within hearing distance, it will have to wait for a reply. "I do like beer." Solomon glances back at the door. Then he rolls his shoulders and moves back to his previous seat. He drops into the chair, and takes the beer, giving a good swallow, despite the fact that by now, the crisp chill is gone, and it's edging towards lukewarm. He glances at the candle, then Javi. But he seems content - or at least willing - to give the other man silence and space. While he absolutely stares at everything in his apartment like he's memorizing it. "Yeah," Javi agrees, "it's pretty fucking great." He lapses into silence then, taking full advantage of that silence and space he's being afforded by his companion. He's staring off into the middle distance as he drinks it, but this time not like he's actually looking //at// something. Just in the way a person might stare at nothing if they're lost in thought. Solomon can take all the time he wants to memorize the apartment, and now that he's looking at things more slowly he may notice that beyond the slightly weird and ritualistic things, there are signs of mundane efforts to protect the space, too. The deadbolt on the door does not seem to be standard issue, but is definitely a lot sturdier than would come with a semi-crappy apartment, even in this not-so-great part of town. The windows have also clearly newer than what would be expected, and also with good locks on them. There are other signs like that around, subtle but visible to the discerning eye. He's taken care to make this place as safe as a mere mortal can be. "So, like." He suddenly speaks up, tearing his eyes away from the space and looking at Solomon again. Now that he's spoken, though, he doesn't seem totally sure what he wants to ask. "So." He tries again. "Is it like, when you do that it can find you easier? That why we had to get the fuck out of there?" Each security measure is noted, filed away for later contemplation. And possibly later interrogation, but Solomon clearly figures he's probably pushing Javi's tolerance of his bullshit at the moment. So he doesn't ask. He does drink, though. And he can put a bottle away with remarkable ease, without seeming to drink very fast at all. When Javi speaks, he flicks his eyes in that direction. Waits. Then nods. "Like I said. I'm hiding. When I take the mask off, I'm...exposed. If there was something around that was hunting me, it could find me easily when I'm like that." "Uh huh. I could see that, I guess." Or rather, he can see it very well, and wishes he hadn't. Of course, Javi doesn't //say// that. He actually seems to be trying. Not pretending that things are okay, but trying to power through despite it being very, very not okay. "So. The thing that took you. It made you like that?" He winces just a little when he asks it, but they're probably a little past the need not to ask rude personal questions. "'Cause I seen a werewolf and shit before but that's not that." "It made me much worse than that," Solomon says, flatly. He smiles, but there's not any humor to it. "What you saw was me after I took back my soul, tattered and broken thing it might be, and crawled, bit, and thrashed my way back to something approaching humanity." A long pause, before he points at the coffee table. "Javi. You ever look at that, this piece of furniture, and wonder how the tree felt? To get ripped apart and hammered back together //wrong// just so some incomprehensibly powerful, callous thing would have something to put a drink on when he wanted?" Javi lets out a long, low sigh, his eyes dropping to the bottle in his hands. He nods, but not with real understanding. How could he? One finger taps against the edge of the bottle's neck as his gaze lifts just enough to settle on the table, and this time the wince is a little more pronounced. "Not really," he admits quietly. Well, he's sure thinking about it now. The corner of his mouth pulls to one side as he studies the table, but if he's trying to come up with some sort of way to apologize to the tree it once was, he's coming up empty. Solomon watches this, then snorts. "Don't worry about it. Unless you get a lot of power all of a sudden. Then remember, because an awful lot of shit starts to look like a tree when someone hands you a big, nasty axe." He leans forward to set the bottle on the table. "You got a resume?" Javi's laugh that follows //that// is a little feeble, but there's at least some genuine humor there. "Yeah, okay," he agrees. "Good thing that ain't happening, huh?" A very good thing, actually. At least, he certainly seem to think so. His head falls back against the couch and his eyes close briefly as he nods. "Yeah," he says again, waving a hand a little vaguely in the air. Just dismissively this time, not like he's trying to get rid of some particularly stubborn ghost. "I'll send it to you tomorrow. It ain't that great, though. Didn't go to college or nothing, so, you know. Don't worry too much. Just do your best." He definitely doesn't have any illusions of some great future, though he also doesn't have much clue what amount of work the bargain actually requires of the other man. "Thanks." Solomon gives Javi a look. "Send me a list of all potentially relevant work experience. And hobbies. College isn't a necessity, although it helps. Are you open to taking classes? Think about it. I may be able to swing some things. You don't even have to study bugs." He moves to stand up before it sinks in for Javi that he may have just picked up the world's most menacing private tutor. He grins down at Javi. "Don't thank me. Just hold up your end." He walks to the door, and starts unlocking things. "And, look. Take a day or two. We can do all this shit over the internet and phone and things, if you decide you want that. You don't ever have to see me again. It's always a choice." There's another huff, and Javi shrugs. "Yeah, sure," he says of the classes, with another wave. "Why not? I'm kinda dumb though, might not work out that well. But I can try, yeah." He'll have plenty of time to bemoan his fate later. He doesn't move to get up when Solomon does, though he does open his eyes. The man can probably see himself out, right? That last comment, though, has him rolling his eyes. "Please," he says, dry but at least much closer to what Solomon could identify as a normal tone. "You ain't that bad. I see fucked-up shit every day, man. You're just a different brand. Gotta give me a minute to get used to it, that's all." He downs the rest of the beer, then waves a couple fingers in the other man's direction. "See you. Take care." Solomon pauses, then smiles. "Guess I have to try harder, then," he says, regaining much of his good cheer. And on that note, he departs, closing the door gently behind him. If Solomon looks back, the last thing he will see is Javi cheerfully flipping him off.