Cece (canyouseemenow) wrote in summerview, @ 2018-09-25 08:53:00 |
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Entry tags: | cece disilva, znerissa drake |
City's breaking down on a camel's back they just have to go 'cause they don't know whack
Who: Cece and Nerissa
What: Non-back-alley dealing
Where: The Diner
When: (slightly backdated to) Friday, 9/21, late afternoon
Nerissa liked the diner just fine (and it had a name, she swore, V-A-L-E, only four letters but it was just easier to slip into calling it the diner), and it was a good place to wind down. She’d been feeling a little crabby lately, restless with thoughts and patience about frayed to the quick. As such, it was probably due to needing a little vacation where she let ocean take her, sinking into the comfort of the salty brine - or she needed a hookup. Not the kind involving genitalia of either sort (though she guessed she wouldn’t say no), but more of an herbal refreshment. If you will.
So she waited at the diner for a friend - one out of the 2.5 she could currently boast, wow, getting so social there. Stop the presses. Whatever, it was cute ambiance while she sipped a chocolate malt shake with real milk powder, earthy sweetness to the taste. She was old enough to remember the diners of long ago - laminate counters, candy cases, hot dogs and home-cured deli meats. Sodas and homemade pastries. They’d certainly changed since then.
“Thanks,” she spoke to the waitress who set down her bloodied cheeseburger - rare, well-salted meat, just slap it on the grill for like two seconds and then bring it to her. Perfect. She couldn’t wait to dig into this thing. Now she’d just pull out her copy of the latest supermarket tabloid and see what tea was spilled this week, and it was a decent way to pass the time.
Back alley dealing was not Cece’s preferred method of handling her clandestine side business. Honestly, it seemed like a relatively outdated mode. She wasn’t some sketchy, spotty teen in baggy jeans, she was a respectable, upstanding citizen (whatever that meant), with an adult job, and a (mostly) clean apartment, and also a witch who occasionally sold helpful potions and herbs. This was just another herb really. Another remedy. It grew out of the ground like anything else she dealt with (and alright, so did nightshade, but that was another issue altogether), so what was the harm, really?
The diner (she also refused to call it by its own name, because why? Just call a spade a spade), was as good a place as any to transact business. In fact, it was one of her favorites. Nothing like a huge plate of fries to go with a side of being paid for her services. Cece spotted Nerissa easily and slid into the booth across the table from her friend/best customer, hands folded in front of her, and a smug grin on her face (sort of a permanent fixture, honestly), head cocked to the side as she scanned the back cover of the tabloid Nerissa was reading. She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “Celebrities. They’re just like us,” she said dryly. “Who’s getting divorced this week?”
"Oh yeah. Totally like us," Nerissa's own tone was delightfully dry, about as dry as bleached white skeleton bones picked clean by vultures beneath a desert sun - but her sarcasm had layers. Surely someone who knew her as long as Cece did, and sold her the good shit as Cece did, was accustomed to the nuances of these layers. "Pretty much everyone I know gets butt implants on the regular."
This counted as a pleasant greeting for a sea serpent and, truly, she was glad to see a friend. Time to order those fries, preferably slathered with bacon, cheese, and jalapeños - Nerissa had been waiting for an excuse.
"Well, Jennifer Aniston is supposedly pregnant again," she shared, folding her trash mag closed and setting it aside. "She technically has like twenty kids at this point. Her poor vag would be considered a clown car." Slurrrrp went the milkshake. "So, how's it going with you?"
Cece let out an amused snort of a laugh. “I’ve been meaning to ask you if you think I needed to get butt implants. I was leaning towards something Kim Kardashian size, but I’m not sure. Maybe bigger?” She said dryly, raising an eyebrow. It was always nice to converse with someone who shared a similar love of sarcasm and dry humor.
She eyed the cover of the magazine again and shook her head. “At this point she could be responsible for an entire circus, not just the clowns.” The poor woman had been suspected to be pregnant so many times, it had to be pretty rough on her self-esteem after a while. “Oh, you know,” she replied, “The usual. Just living the dream.” She stretched her arms over her head and grinned. “And you?”
Once the order for fries was put in, and Nerissa was left with her dealer pal and her dead cow (you, me, and the devil makes three) she flashed a sharp-toothed grin. “Saaaame,” she drawled, since she supposed she had no reason to really complain. Sure, she’d literally shrivel up and die if she didn’t get back for an ocean respite soon but alas. That would happen.
“Work’s been okay. Barrier patrol is hanging in there - “ It was a well-documented fact that the magic, whatever kept it in place was sort of unraveling though; however, it wasn’t her jurisdiction to figure out the nuances of such things so she’d just continue to patrol as needed and physically harm whomever tried to get in their cozy little town unwarranted. “I’m getting kinda restless though. Was hoping you had something good for me?”
There was a spark of hope in those dark eyes. Yes, yes - something good. Cece had never failed her before.
Yeah, yeah. The barrier. Only on rare occasions when her aunt was otherwise occupied, or indisposed did Cece take up the mantle of border patrol. She hadn’t ever been very good (or very interested) in protective magic, or charms. She’d developed a knack for potion making early on and stuck to it. There was more money in it anyway, and considering she could grow most of the ingredients she needed, it seemed the logical choice.
Restlessness, though, she could understand. Having spent most of her life in a large city, coming to the sleepy island of Summerview was kind of a let down. Although, she wasn’t going to complain about the easy access to nature in a less populated, more rural environment. Being an earth witch had its own set of requirements for staying sharp and not growing sluggish. Nothing like the shriveling up and dying Nerissa would be subject to if she didn’t make it into the ocean now and again, but Cece definitely became a bit hollow when she was stuck in a concrete jungle for too long.
“I might have something,” she said, smiling slyly. “Are you in the market for uppers or downers?” Restless could mean she wanted to chill out. But then again, it could also mean boredom, for which meant a sativa strain might be in order.
Now, that was the question, wasn’t it? Nerissa had experienced her share of hard partying nights, rolling on ecstasy and the alcohol flowing like it was on an IV drip. There was something about the colors, the strobe lights, when you went to a club with your synapses resembling Mexican jumping beans and your body moving like a rope uncoiling. These days though, she preferred the more natural substances. Shrooms, weed, whatever Cece grew - the synthetic shit was like, not jiving with her at the ripe old age of one-hundred or so.
“I’m not exactly stressed, so I think a little pick-me-up might be best,” she spoke thoughtfully, stroking her chin. “Rejuvenation, you know? What have you got for that?”
She totally identified with the frustration that came with being stuck, in any capacity. Summerview was quiet, serene, and safe - but the innate curiosity sometimes had Nerissa wanting to stray more toward the casinos and clubs of Atlantic City even if it wasn’t always best to ‘mingle’ with humans.
Cece nodded knowingly. She wasn’t one of those witches with an innate sense of what anyone needed at any given time, she wasn’t particularly empathetic, but she could go good shit. From kitchen herbs to stronger stuff, that was her skill. So yeah, she definitely had something for that.
“So something a little more uplifting, but not too…” She waved her hand around the crown of her head, “Foggy. I guess. Head clearing? Like a reset button?”
A reset button, now wouldn't that be the cat's pajamas. But overall, it sounded like what Nerissa was after. She definitely didn't want anything that would get her head feeling all like London early morning fog, that was no fun. Generally, she liked to at least remember her own name, address, and that she had things to do.
"Bingo," she grinned, rubbing her hands together with glee - this was also because the fries arrived, piping hot and crispy, and she put the plate in the middle of the table so they could share. "I guess kind of like the witch version of turning it off and then turning it back on again. If it works for computers, it should work for me."
Oh thank the goddess, the fries had arrived. Cece snagged one and popped it whole into her mouth before shuffling around in her purse for Nerissa’s “prescription”. She fished out a neat, tissue paper wrapped packet, tied off with a ribbon--go big or go home. When you lived on an island with a bunch beings that were essentially fairy tale creatures, a little whimsicality was called for--and set it in front of her friend. “This should do the trick,” she said, picking up another fry, careful to get as much cheese sauce on it as possible. “I’ll expect a thorough review, just so you know.” It was a new blend she’d been working on. Hopefully Nerissa didn’t mind being a guinea pig. Cece liked it, but at this point it was time for a second opinion.
Hell, she’d gladly be the guinea pig - er, snake. Whichever. Nerissa took the little package and carefully tucked it away inside of her purse, eager to try the wares out tonight to see how she felt. Though she wouldn’t stiff Cece, of course, and she’d come prepared - in exchange, she slid a few folded bills across the table and just like that? A drug deal happened.
Ah, America. Prime land of opportunity for such things.
“Thorough review, you got it,” she grinned, a flash of teeth - those elongated canines of hers. But there was no getting around baring the sleekness of fangs when she did happen to grace the world with a smile. “And then soon we’ll have to hang out for real - “ It was not an offer she extended to just anyone, nor was it one of those ‘we’ll have to hang ooooout’ fake offerings; no, she intended to follow through. “Pizza. Bags of sour gummies. Lots of tea spilling and shit talk.”
Having grown up mostly unacquainted with other magical types--outside of her aunt’s coven of witches, naturally--coming to Summerview and running into so many fanged beings had been a bit of a shocker, but Cece had never been the type to be rattled by much, so before a week was out, toothy grins became part of the furniture. She grinned back and snatched another fry.
“You had me at pizza,” she said, “I hope you have some tea to spill though, because I’m fresh out.” Things at the Minute Clinic had been slow lately, she hadn’t come in contact with any worthy gossip lately. The perils of living on a sleepy little island, she supposed. “But then, I suppose we could always plot the downfall of humanity if we get bored,” she drawled with a half shrug. She was mostly sarcastic.
For sure, the perils of a sleepy little island - Nerissa knew that keeping everyone ‘safe’ was paramount, but sometimes she longed for just a wee tad more excitement. Oh well, couldn’t have everything - she guessed she had to make her own fun around here sometimes. Hence the exchange of cash-for-drugs in a diner.
“I should have some tea to spill by then - we’ll see,” she went for another thoughtful chin stroke, hmm. Things had been slow for her lately, but perhaps they’d pick up - it was bound to take a turn uphill at some point. “But if not, I’m completely fine with plotting the downfall of humanity. Those bastards had it coming anyway.”
Chomp, there went another fry - caught in the trap that was her teeth. “You’ve always known the way to my heart, babe.”
In truth, Cece’s business would probably not be booming had she not been living on a sleepy little island. In Baltimore there was competition. Real big city drug lords. Here she was a big fish in a small pond. And where things were sleepy, people were bound to be discontented. It made her job real easy. She hardly needed to advertise her services. Of course, that was one of those things that was part and parcel of being an earth witch. People were always coming to you for herbal remedies for various maladies, and sometimes they wanted something they refused to put into words. Which was alright with her, because she was pretty good at reading between the lines.
Still it was always much easier when people came out and said what they meant. Cece smirked at that comment. “Hearts aren’t that difficult to figure out. All anyone really wants is a little weed and a little revenge.” Not really. In fact she had absolutely no idea about hearts at all, except what she knew from personal experience. In truth, that would probably about do it for her. But then, it was likely also true for Nerissa, which was probably why they got on so well.
Weed and revenge - that sounded good to Nerissa. She didn’t go for the conventional sorts of shit anyway - flowers, candy, compliments? What was a sea snake meant to do with those? “The ultimate aphrodisiac,” she agreed, tipping the edge of her nearly-empty milkshake glass toward Cece in a toast. “Cheers.”
Especially cheers to the weed. It was going to be a good night indeed.