Out of the blue [and into the black] {Del}

[Detective Kevin Slame]

Okay, so the fact that Dil wanted to chuck his ass at witch doctors and hoodoo guys were definitely a downside. Seriously, all he had was a bad case of stress, or maybe some distant genetic defect that Mommy and Daddy- King and Queen of mental health, those were…NOT- passed down onto their bouncing baby boy. He wouldn’t be surprised if the latter were true, given the memories he’d had of his parents. When Father wasn’t being his OCD, control freak self, Mama was usually in her bed with the shades drawn, telling him how she was dying of -insert disease here-.

Ah, his childhood memories. And people wonder why he’s constantly thinking of eating his gun.

But at the same time…it was really kind of nice that she cared enough to invoke the occult into the conversation. Given the kinds of people that moved through the Quarter and around the bar- hell, even though the bar- she probably saw using supernatural sources as being acceptable, when medicine failed. Hell, he was in NEW ORLEANS, for crying out loud; ghosts and creepy crawlies were a part of life out here. He just wasn’t used to it being so darn acceptable, he thought with a frown. But if her way down the highway would make the blackouts stop, and give him some actual, no lie, beautiful sleep…he’d eat bugs, piss in herbs and inhale any potion that was given to him.

It was funny how most people wanted to be special, and there he was, wishing like hell that he could be normal.

Normal for you…or for her? The thought drifted through his head, and Kevin started a bit, waving his hand in the air as if swatting at a fly. Okay, that was random. Definitely not touching it with a ten foot pole.

When the door opened loud enough to make Dil jump, Slame joined suit, letting out a muttered curse when his brain slowly registered a non-threat. Good Lord, was that all for them? For HER? Jesus, she was skinnier than a toothpick and she ate like a horse.
He was in love…was that an angel’s chorus playing? Haaaaallelujah…

Practically drooling, Kev accepted the utensils eagerly, practically gripping his fork and knife like a cartoon character two year old. His stomach was doing a really nasty crampy dance, which meant that he probably hadn’t eaten for a few days- coffee and cigs not counted- and he eyed the food like it was prey before a predator.

“Maybe I outta scare the crap out of you guys more often, if it means a breakfast like this,” He said with a grin; the first true sign of positive emotion all morning. “Is that French Toast? Ah man, I’m in freaking Heaven.”

Shoveling some of the food onto his plate, he did his best not to go at it like some kind of lunatic. Forcing himself to keep his movements steady, when all he wanted is to start shoving food into his face, he let loose an almost orgasmic moan when he took his first bite. Oh, God, he really was dead, and this really was Heaven. Score!

When she started talking again, the detective was in too much ecstasy to pull his skeptical act. “Dil, I tried medicine and all it wanted to do was lock me up and med me up to the eyeballs…which, as you’ve seen, probably might be a good idea. But if you think that your friends can help me…if you think they can? Sign me up. I ain’t got nothing to lose.”

And it was true. Strangely enough, if Dil thought that the witch doctor had a chance, he’d sit through the ceremony. Weird, man…must be all that gratitude for breakfast clouding his mind.

[Dilana Polyak]

Sure, the things happening to Kevin could well be simply put down to the stress his job put him under. Sure, it could be some genetic thing. If Dil had known about his childhood, that might well have been her first thought, though, after further thought, that sort of stuff was diagnosable. OCD, hypochondria, paranoid, split personalities, all able to be treated with counselling and drugs. None of that had worked for him. It had to be something that the humans' science couldn't detect.

Yes, Dilana did see the occult as something ordinary. She was just lucky she lived in wonderful New Orleans, where people were used to magick, open to the idea that her kind existed. It made surviving just that bit easier.

She could relate to him wishing to be normal. She loved what she was, she loved being part of this secret society of sorts, this elite group of creatures that were generally more gorgeous than the average population. She loved shifting forms, being stronger than human, faster, she loved being able to hear and smell things that humans couldn't. She loved being a wolf... but she hated being abnormal even by their standards. His inner thoughts, whether he wanted to be normal for himself or for her... she wanted to be normal for both. She wanted to be normal so she didn't feel like she had been wrapped in bubble wrap from the day she'd hit puberty. She wanted to be normal for him so he didn't have to suffer her brothers' glares and snarls... and other things.

Continuing to eat, Dilana picked up some of the French toast after he spoke about it, flashing him a grin before she took a bite. Yes, oh yes, these breakfasts were Heaven. She would even go as far as to say Gods wept at the sight and smell of it, knowing even their caterers couldn't create something this good. "You should see how we treat those who don't have massive freak outs and try to give my bra an inspection..."

[/i] Her head tilted, her features feigning a serious innocence, "They get extra bacon... and a hot bath as opposed to a shower."

Silence fell again as they ate some more. It wasn't uncomfortable for Dilana, she was just thankful to have some food lining her stomach. Occasionally, she paused to gulp some coffee but mostly it was just forkfuls of food entering her mouth. However, she had to stop when he spoke, feeling a warm, fuzzy feeling come over her as his words sunk in. ~Dil, I tried medicine and all it wanted to do was lock me up and med me up to the eyeballs…which, as you’ve seen, probably might be a good idea. But if you think that your friends can help me…if you think they can? Sign me up. I ain’t got nothing to lose.~ She even put down her cutlery, yes... she did, laying them down on her plate as she slowly chewed the mouthful of food, swallowing it before she spoke, "You're not meant to be locked up and drugged into a stupor, Kev... you're too good for that. I'd miss you. I really do think they could help... or at least it can't hurt to try, right? If it doesn't work, I'm not gonna tell anyone you did it, if it does work... great."[/b]

Stretching out her limbs, Dilana pushed another wave of sleepiness from her body. She might go and sleep for a bit before going for a run, maybe sleep until sun set and go for a night run. There was something about running in the moonlight that she loved, swimming in the rivers and lakes. It was a plan.

Rolling her neck, releasing the tension there, Dilana smiled, "I'm busy for the rest of the day, but I'll contact a few people tomorrow and find out some details, what people think." Her mind created a list of people to speak to, but she knew all too well that that list would grow larger and larger.[/blockquote]

[Detective Kevin Slame]

Kevin couldn't help but bark out a laugh at her retort, instinctively glancing down at said bra-area. Hot damn, he did? He'd tried to dive into her boobs? Well, they could both look at the bright side; at least he'd tried to nosedive instead of strip naked and dance a frigging hula.

Rubbing the back of his neck, he swallowed before giving her an apologetic smile. "Yeah, I'm sorry about that, Dil. When I get like that, I...well, I guess I don't have to tell you. But seriously, cher, can you blame me? You're not exactly potato sack material."

He flashed a grin before going back to inhale his food. Truthfully, it hadn't really mattered if they had a pulse; he'd be there with some serious grabby hands. God knew how many times he'd woken up next to a stranger, or in the middle of making friendlies with yet another stranger. Thankfully, everytime had been with a woman, but man...talk about awkward. Especially when he woke up right in the middle of things and had no idea how he got there.

Shoving his face as fast as he could while trying to maintain some semblance of table manners, the detective did his best to hold back a rampant blush. Thankful for yet another growl from her brothers' direction, he was able to pull his eyes away from her boobs. Jesus, he was a fricking pervert of the hightest order. The lady had just saved his ass by not calling the cops on him, and he was eyeballing her like a drooling fool. Wonderful.

He forced his eyes back to her face when she spoke again and shrugged. Hell, it might be better for everyone if he was committed, but he said nothing. All that self pity shit was for some pansy schmo, not him.

After a few minutes, he was finished with his food. Hopping off the stool, he flashed her another grin. "Maybe I'll catch you later as normal Slame, instead of the crack head," He drawled, pausing when he caught sight of those nasty ass brothers of hers.

For about a minute, he stood there awkwardly, wanting to say something but having no idea what. Finally, with a martyred sigh, he leaned forward and gave her cheek a peck before backing off with a grin.

"Time for work. Thanks for feeding me instead of ripping off my balls. I'll see you later, Dil. You're a saint."

And with that, he turned to leave, heading out into the night. As if by magic, he got a call from dispatch demanding that he report to the Quarter. Oh joy, drunken brawls; the Lieutenant really did has his ass like no tomorrow.

Another day, another goddamn dollar. But hey, at least he still had his nuts.