Username: 
Password:    
Remember Me

Search by :  Username E-mail Region Interest AOL IM ICQ Number Yahoo! ID MSN Username Jabber

Betty Winchester/Che V. Impala (lady_metallicar) wrote in utr_logs, @ 2008-04-30 20:42:00

Who: Che and Alexi
When: The other night/early morning, right after this
Where: out and about, dancing an dessert
Warnings: uh... no? Surprisingly enough. Well, not besides LOL long!


Alexi was in his element at the night club. He had his hair braided back from his face, but otherwise, it fell down his back and shoulders and was the easiest thing to spot in the world over the paper-white shirt and pants. For someone as pale as he was, it actually managed to look good, and not too garish. He'd ordered a dry martini for himself as he settled himself against the corner of the bar, closest to the dance floor, watching the crowd dance and churn in time with the music, looking wholly amused.

Che had managed to slip away without waking anyone up, even Roxy. Not that she was going to use this newfound power for anything other than 'awesome' of course.
She was indeed wearing a purple jacket, almost-metallic and hardly a jacket at all, being a bolero. Her hair was mostly tamed by the usual head-scarf, black shot through with purple mylar, just so she had some semblance of color coordination.
She scanned the crowd as soon as she was inside, then smiled, weaving her way through, headed in Alexi's direction.

Call it a knack, but he could have spotted her from halfway across the room despite not even having looked her way until she was five paces away from him. He turned slowly and gave her a quick wink, and finished his drink. "Tell me, miss Che, have you attempted dancing before?" He asked, his voice much lower than his androgynous looks would let one assume. "And even if you haven't, would you like to?" He offered his hand with all-too-warm smile.

She grinned, more amused than anything, "Tried it a couple times, haven't faceplanted yet, though it's not for lack of trying." A shrug as she accepted the hand, "Always up for trying again though."

His smile didn't fade as he led her to the dance floor, already graceful and on beat with the music. Merely watching him might have struck inspiration on how to move, or perhaps it was the music itself which inspired. Either way, the inspiration would strike Che. Al moved them to a perfect spot on the floor, just big enough to dance in and not step on other peoples' toes, or their own as he started to move to the beat. He couldn't help but give the lovely lady the knowledge to move that body as if she'd had it her entire existence, and knew how to use it.

If she noticed the difference she didn't mention it. After all, she was (technically) a Winchester, and they were good at not only winging it, but also running on instinct. It wasn't long before she'd found the beat, already moving, smile sliding further and further into place as she moved.

They were also fairly good at not noticing things right off the bat. His smile was set on his face, only becoming more and more impressed as time went on, as the song drew into another, and he took her by the waist and dipped at the height of the second one, eyes looking into hers, searching. Not too deeply, of course, but just enough where his smile went lopsided when he brought her back to her feet and continued on, dancing a bit closer. Oh, she was interesting. He hadn't quite caught on, but he had his notions as to what might have made her tick at first. "You ready for a drink?" He asked, his lips near her ear so he didn't have to shout.

She had squeaked at the dip, but laughed a moment later, realizing she was being held steady. She nodded at the question, turning easily enough, something that likely would have caused her to stumble at the very least earlier that day, keeping hold of his arm as she made her way back through the crowd.

He grinned at that, "And you're a wonderful dancer, I knew it." Al pulled out a stool from the bar for her before taking the one beside it. "I've got to say, for someone as new to human form as you are, you've got it all going for you." He waved over the bartender so she could order.

There was another wholly amused laugh as she settled herself, flicking the end of the scarf and her hair back over her shoulder, "I've had a lot of time to practice." Because she had, and clearly that was all it took. She ordered a beer before tilting her head, "So, what is it you do that you're this bored at this time of night?"

He ordered another martini and leaned against the bar, looking out at the crowd, then to her, "I'm a model." He shrugged one shoulder. He looked far enough in where going further into detail would be unstable ground. "I also dabble in other interests, but mostly that while I'm here. We tend to play as hard as we pose, and I'm a night owl by design."

She nodded at that, twisting around so that she was mostly leaning back against the bar, though still facing him, more or less, "I'm a mechanic. I... just don't sleep much apparently."

Al smiled, "I have a theory on that. It's probably because cars really don't sleep. Their personalities don't stop when their engine shuts off. I had a Diablo, and she would tell me what she wanted even before I turned her on. She was finicky but a lovely lady, no less." He received his drink and she received hers, and he held his martini in thought. "I've also found that certain cars are naturally nocturnal. She was, you might be. Actually, it depends on how active you are compared to the day." He sipped his drink.

She mulled that over for a minute, finally nodding, "That makes a surprising amount of sense, actually. Always hated being idle even then, and was pretty much nocturnal anyway, crepuscular at the very least." She hadn't ever looked at it from that angle before was all.

"Well, there you have it." He tilted his glass to her with a smile before taking another sip. "Though there could be a hundred other factors to it that aren't even related to your previous incarnation. But generally the most obvious answer's the right one." He smiled as he looked at her hair, "Oh, I wouldn't say it's too much hair for one lady. It looks great on you. Mine, however?" He pulled it over his shoulder and it still went down to his waist. "See, I'm lucky enough that it isn't as curly as yours, but it's still quite a handful." He tossed it back over and grinned, "You could get your hair styled, though, make it more manageable."

She shrugged, "Washing it usually works, just have to tie it back so it doesn't get caught in anything at work. Might try straightening it sometime, but I'd probably trip over it if I ever took a flatiron to it."

He chuckled and tilted his head, looking utterly amused by her. "Well, if you ever need the help, I'm always around to give my completely biased and flaming opinion on anything." He shrugged, "Being a mechanic must be an interesting job. I don't think I could ever get my hands dirty like that."

She smiled again, shaking her head, "I like the hands-on work, and being as how I have more than a little inside knowledge, I'm good at it." She shrugged, "Couldn't imagine sitting at the register at the bookstore all day. No idea how my boys do it." Y'know, aside from the hired help.

He turned back to look at the crowd, "Ah yes, hands on is something I enjoy as well, don't get me wrong. I just wouldn't know step one for mechanical work. I know more about... music and looking pretty, actually. But that's rewarding work in itself, I wouldn't change it for anything." He didn't turn to look at her when he did, but he got an impish smile. "I was an interior designer for a few years, but that was an utterly disastrous job. Being a fashion plate is much more up my alley."

She laughed, shaking her head again, "some people are better at presentation than design." She shrugged, "I'm not really that good at either, much prefer hanging around backstage with the crew."

He raised both brows at that, just slightly, and looked to her, "Oh?" He hadn't even considered her to be the type - but it sounded like she was a budding groupie at heart.
She nodded, "I'm damn handy with a spanner and some duct tape." Clearly she'd been talking about emergency set repair. Duh. What else would she have meant?

His brows crept slightly higher before he laughed. "Oh dear." He hadn't laughed like that in ages, something he wasn't very well known for doing. Another thing was the whole surprise factor of it. "Che, I'm going to have to look out for you, you caught me off my guard."

She tilted her head, looking entirely too innocent, it was something she'd learned from either Sam or Roxy, hard to say since they were both puppies, "Did I? Hm. Now I'm just going to have to see if I can do it again."

"Unlikely. I'm psychic, you know." He said, impish grin slipping back into place, looking all the more devilish next to her innocent puppy look.
She rolled her eyes, "Well then I'll just have to try harder. Even psychics don't know everything." Not counting Missouri of course.

"Oh, I wouldn't say that. The only other person that's surprised me lately," lately meaning 'this century', "was the girl who stole my heart last." He finished his martini, looking utterly serious for a moment.
She nodded, "I can imagine that would be surprising." Of course, she didn't know he meant literally. Otherwise there would have been a lot more questions.

"Incredibly." He shrugged one shoulder and went back to all fun. "So, would you like to take another spin or two on the dance floor, or is dessert in order?" He actually was enjoying a female's company, for once. It was rare, but not unheard of.

"Well, considering that I haven't tripped over my own feet yet, I'm going to say it's probably a bad idea to tempt fate, let's go get some dessert" She glanced at her watch, "this time of night we'll probably be right in the middle of all the actors coming in after the show."

He liked the sound of that and stood, paying for their drinks with a hefty tip besides and offered his arm. "And it's a wonderful night for a walk. I hope you don't mind it, it's not too far." Al preferred walking, save for when it was cross-town, which was when the car came in handy. "Keeps me fit."

She grinned at that, "I walk everywhere, actually, well, most places. Don't know how to drive, and it's always a little weird to ride." She shrugged, accepting the offered arm, still smiling, "I might get used to it eventually, but I like walking, harder to miss things that way."

"Of course, it's walking in the bad neighborhoods that keeps me on my toes." He kept himself closer to the street, simple gentlemanly behavior that he'd picked up. "I would understand why walking would feel a bit more natural to you than driving. It's more real for you." He kept his strides in time with hers, making sure he didn't start walking too fast, as he had a habit of doing. "So, I saw your board post on simple human things you wouldn't naturally think about. I may be able to help you on that."
She smiled again, nodding, "I think I've got most of it figured out now. But then again, if it's not something I know about, how am I going to know if I have it figured out or not?"

Al chuckled, "Very logical point - but I know some humans who still don't have it all figured out and they've been at it all their lives. I know some non-humans who are the same way." He smiled, "There's simple things. Such as something I'm doing right now. It may seem odd, but you see how I'm staying between you and the street?"
She nodded, "Yeah, what about it?" She hadn't realized there was any particular significance to it, apparently.

"Mm. Well, there's two reasons for a man to walk closer to the road. Common courtesy, because that way, if there's a puddle," He nodded to one, "And a car drives into it, it'll get primarily on the man and not the woman. Secondly, and more anecdotal, is the fact that only pimps will walk their ladies on the outside, like they're merchandise." He smugged, smuggishly.

She snickered at that, shaking her head, "I'll keep that in mind." And would quite likely bring it up chirpily at dinner sometime, just because.

He took a turn, heading towards the dessert bar, "Most men don't even know that one, though. But it's just polite behavior." He paused before adding, "It took me a long time to understand the finer details of propriety and custom, but it's coming together, little by little."

Another nod, keeping pace easily enough, she was used to walking after all, it was how she usually got around, "And that's the kind of thing I hadn't even thought of, not that it's not important, but it's not immediately needed, you know?"

"It certainly helps." Alexi pointed out, "But getting basic things down first is more important." He tilted his head slightly. "It's amusing; you didn't even question my being psychic. I take it that you've met your fair share?"

She shrugged, "One or two real ones. Maybe a half dozen others." It was true, really, Missouri and Sam, and... well, a whole bunch of fakers. Just the way things went.
"Ah. Haven't met a person named Missouri. Met an India once, couple of Cheyennes, but never Missouri." His impish smile returned, sticking out his tongue just slightly.

She blinked, both brows arching, then she laughed, shaking her head, "Trust me, if she was here you'd know it. She's... hard to miss."

"She'd call me names, I'm rather glad she isn't here." He joked - not really, but it was worth saying. "Sometimes, it's just the fact that psychics just don't get along, generally. Mostly because they know that the other one can do what they can do." He paused in front of the dessert bar's entrance and took one look at her, "That and some of us don't use our powers just to impress or help."

She nodded, "That's how it is with any skill though. You can either use it to help people who don't have it, impress them, or just be all nefarious and one-uppy about it."

He held the door for her, "Nefarious? Now that's a bit harsh." He spoke as if he was almost offended, "I don't use it unless I think it may help. Or if it suits me. The most I do is plant ideas into others' minds, sensations, inspiration. That's my night job." He followed her in with his hands in his pockets.

There was another browarch at that as she slipped inside, beaming at the woman behind the counter and the laughter from the group of actors at the other end of the bar, "Looks like we're just in time."

Alexi was the one to look utterly innocent then, especially at the brow arch. He pulled out a seat for her before taking his own again and slid into it gracefully enough. "It's always fun to listen to them." He mentioned offhandedly, looking over the food. He could eat food, he just generally had no desire to. Today, however, it seemed he had a craving for sweets.

"Cherries jubilee." Why? Because not only was it chocolate and cherry, it was served on fire. Che was all for desserts that were on fire.

"Make that two." He said, eyes lit up at the idea of Food on Fire. "Now don't get me wrong, Che. I inspire. I got the model job because it gives me the chance to be closer to the musicians who are looking for trophy wives. They're the ones I help." He smiled a bit, "Then there's some you just can't help. I mean, AC/DC's just... Well, when they've got a twenty word vocabulary and a three-chord repertoire, I'm just at a loss for what I could help create."

She cackled at that, shaking her head, "They do my themesong though, so I can't hate them." She shrugged, "Back in Black, it's me all over."
He smiled then and nodded, "Now that is you. You hear anything by Megadeth?" He asked, utterly pleased when their food showed up, watching the fire dance with something not unlike unmitigated joy. "They're the ones who did mine." He paused, "Well, one of the two songs I claim as my theme, depending on close to the truth you get." He pouted when the woman behind the counter doused the flames, but only for a moment.

Che tilted her head, "I've heard some, yeah, not a whole lot, prefer the classics, but what song?" She was very nearly bouncing by the time dessert was put out, mashing it down with her fork so she could eat it without burning herself.

"The Scorpion. I picked it up in a different reality when I was going through a serious rebellious phase. Everyone's got one, I just tend to take everything to an extreme." Al said, stirring up his to cool it off before taking a forkful and blowing over it lightly.
She laughed softly at that, shaking her head, "And some people's are quiet. Hell, Sam's rebellious phase consisted of going to college to study law."

"Well, considering what the family did, I'm not surprised. It's as far away as one can get to the family business. Sorry - I don't mean to pry." He tapped his temple with his free hand's forefinger, "Sometimes I can't help it." He took another bite of the jubilee and his eyes lit up, "You know, this is pretty decent!"

Both brows had shot up at the statement, but settled again as he explained, "Hn, going to have to stop thinking so loud I guess." She shrugged, "They don't really like people here knowing about it, say it makes them sound crazy."

"It's as good as forgotten." Al promised, smiling coyly. "Look, if you've got issue with the things that go bump in the night, I'm all for picking up the bill and wandering off right now, I don't want this to get ugly between us. I'm not exactly known for my goodness and light." He shrugged one shoulder, "I'm also not going to do anything to you."

"Oh really?" She tilted her head, gone all curious-puppy once more. A shrug followed, adding, "There's always shades of grey, few bad apples spoil the whole bunch, whatever allegory you like best." A pause, "Well... some things actually are evil, right down to their bones, but most things need to be taken into consideration on an individual basis."

Al shook his head and sighed, deciding to take this to a primarily thought-based conversation, I am a demon. Wasn't always, but I was never human. I'm an incubus and unholy muse, and I would usually not warn lovely women about such if I were going to do anything to them. You don't need to fear me or have your guard up. This place is just a vacation for me. I don't need to do what I do here, since God and Satan both are here, as well as much higher ranked officials. I just want to relax and mingle and finally come to know someone without the fear of death.
He ate his dessert in the process of explaining to Che, his thoughts intermingling with the scent of roses and the taste of good wine, and possibly a guitar riff here and there.

Her hand twitched reflexively towards her purse at the first, never let your guard down was one of the first things a Hunter learned, and something she'd had to un-learn since coming here, but it was slow going, apparently.
Though she did still a moment later, actually listening, finally nodding, "Alright." After all, it wasn't like 'good' demons were anything new, though, those were ones who'd been human first.

Alexia nodded, sighing, "Thanks for understanding. I catch a bad rep around here because my granddaughter seems to think I'm some sort of bad guy still." He rolled his eyes with a chuckle, taking a singular cherry and using it to mop up the goo and chocolate of the rest. "She and her friends just seem to forget that sometimes I've got a job to do. It's a dirty job, and one I don't particularly like doing, but I do it because it's better than not existing at all." He finished the Cherries Jubilee and looked around for another thing to eat. "I would have left the moment I found out what you did, and who your family was the moment I found out, if I didn't think I could trust you." Why he did was unknown even to him.

Her brow furrowed slightly at that, "She a Hunter? Some of 'em are... pretty single minded when it comes to perceived evil." A shrug, "My boys were, might still be, I'm... from later on in the timeline than they are, and maybe not even from the same timeline at all, but when I'm from they were finally learning that it's not always so black and white." A nod towards the case then, "Pie's always good."

He shook his head, "Her grandmother was, though." He nodded then, "Wonder if they've got strawberry rhubarb. It's horribly out of season but... ah! They do!" He ordered two slices, and smiled, "She's just an Assassin and Thief, both capitalized, and one third of a goddess." He shrugged. "Other than the obvious reasons, I honestly can't see why she dislikes me." He smirked.
"Huh." She shrugged, "Did you insult her puppy or something?" Not that this was a good reason, of course, but it was the only reason she could think of that might possibly make sense.

"I attacked her father before I knew he was my son." Al explained with a half-shrug. "It's not like I can keep all my memories from life to life, I'd be a lunatic!" He sighed and shook his head.
That made a little more sense, "They really close?" Because that would explain it, if not, she was right back to having absolutely no idea.

"Not in the least." Al said with another shrug. "I think it's just the basic principal of the thing. I attack her father and school, and she immediately holds a lifelong grudge. I mean, come on. Even I don't do that!" He chuckled, "Ah well, I'm far too young to even bother with grudges, they're too mature for me." He started in with the pie and practically melted. "See, this is why I rarely eat, I'd become an utter glutton for it."

She laughed then, shaking her head, "I think you and Dean would get along fine, y'know, if it weren't for the job thing." And the fact that they would probably end up trying to one up each other the whole time.

And then some. Al shook his head, "Nah, manly macho men just really grate on my nerves. I'm more a fan of the metrosexual. Glad they finally found a better word for it than "Pouf." He grinned, "Not that you'll see me argue if someone calls me one."

She very nearly choked on a bite of dessert laughing at that, shaking her head after a moment, "Well... it is kind of fun to say. I think more words should be fun to say, honestly. Might get people back into learning languages."

"That's why I taught myself several languages - simply for the fun words. You wouldn't believe how fun Mandarin is to speak, until you tried." He smiled, "English was another one I learned just for the fun of it." Alexi took another bite of the pie and melted a bit more once again.

She smiled again, nodding, "I know English and then enough Latin to get by. Other than that though I'm pretty lost, been thinking of taking up Russian or German, just for the swearwords."

"Nothing says 'I hate you' like calling someone a pig-dog." Al agreed with a bemused smirk, "It'd be better than learning my native language. It's plenty confusing on its own, being that most of it isn't spoken." He shrugged one shoulder, "I won't deny it, it's a beautiful language, but humans would need some serious adjustment to learn it." He smirked. "Not to mention, they'd probably go insane if I spoke it." Bragging? Noway.

She nodded, gnawing on her fork for a moment, "Yeah, sounds pretty messy all around, actually. More trouble than it's worth I'd think." She shrugged then, "And another benefit with the rougher languages is that people think you're swearing when you aren't."

He snickered, "Ah, but what beauty is there in sounding course? It's much more fun to speak gently and make people think you're reciting sonnets when you're calling them a pig fucking son of a whore." He poked at his pie with an impish grin.

She tilted her head, thinking that over, finally nodding, "Well then it's down to French or Italian instead, might be easier to wrap my brain around that way."

"Italian is a good bridge between Latin and French. I'm sure you could handle one or the other easily enough, both being Romance languages. And they do come in handy when you really want a good cup of coffee." He joked. His slice of pie was done and he shook his head, "I couldn't eat another bite.
Her own pie was nearly gone, even though she was taking little bites to make it last, "Well, I'll have to look into that then." Another smile, "Thanks for helping me decide."

"My pleasure." Alexi said with a nod of his head. "So, once we're done here, would you like me to walk you home? I've nothing better to do, and my apartment's clear across town."
She smiled again, "Sure. Totally not going to object to company, especially at this time of... uh, morning." Since it was, after all, past midnight at that point.

"Heaven knows that there's worse things than me around." He got a coy smile before paying the lady and standing, offering his arm once more. "Somewhere. Probably not here in London, but somewhere."
She snickered, shaking her head and accepting the offered arm once more, "Well, there's me, don't know if that's better or worse but I sure as hell don't fight fair."

"Kitten's got claws?" Asked Al with a bemused tone, "Just so long as you know not to go for the jewels, I'm all for it." He held the door for her before stepping out into the brisk air. "When you first realized you could think for yourself, do you remember what sparked it?" He asked. It was merely an itch at the back of his mind.

"Brass knuckles." She shrugged, "Easier to maintain than claws." It was difficult to tell if she was serious, really.
She shook her head at the question though, "No, not really, because I remember things from before it happened, and I know they're from before it happened, because it's like... almost like remembering a dream, knowing you were there but couldn't do anything to change it, if that makes any sense."

He nodded at that, "If you were ever to want to know, I could bring those memories to the front of your mind." He looked to her with a brief, sincere (And utterly insincere looking) smile, before motioning, "Lead the way, miss Impala."

Her brows both arched at that, but she nodded a moment later, "If things don't fall into place on their own, I might take you up on that. But it's all still sorting itself out, hopefully that'll fall into place as well."

Al nodded, "I certainly hope they do, for you. I don't know how well I could bring back what you've hidden from yourself - some people have even claimed that I fabricate memories." He shook his head, "When I deceive, I only use what's subconsciously there in the first place, and that's not at all what I plan on doing, should it come to that." He ran a hand across his braids and sighed, "I won't deny being evil, but being told I'm a liar on top of it? Well, that just pisses me off."

She laughed once, shaking her head, "Well, at least you know you are and don't have a reason to lie about it."
It was just a little odd to her, even now, that this didn't bother her. Another head-shake then, "And I don't know that I've hidden them, I think it's mostly just... not being used to having a memory at all, and then having it all at once, all of a sudden, have to sort out what order it goes in is all."

"I can help with that, too." Al offered with a shrug. "It's nothing doing, really." He placed his free hand in his pocket as he wondered why it was that Che was so calm about this - of all the people in this world, she'd probably be the most gunshy one about demons there could be, save for her family. He knew it had to do with something but he couldn't put his finger on what unless he drew it up onto the surface in her mind and that would make her know he was in there, dinking around.

For her part she chalked it up to the fact that she understood about wanting some downtime, that and he hadn't done anything that classified as evil, at least not in her presence. That would change things, of course.
She nodded at the statement, "Could try that first probably. Just... not yet, because they are settling into place on their own, I mean, I already remember more things, in the right order, than I did when I first got here."

"Disorientation gets everyone. I don't remember which lives were after which, but I know I lived them all. I wasn't even sure of that when I came here, though I was certain I've come here before." He moved his arm to drop his hand into his pocket. "Sometimes, it just takes descrambling."

She nodded again, "And I've just got the two generations to sort through... one and a half, not even a full two, must be harder with more than that. Hell, just the two is hard enough."
"Four thousand years, give or take a couple decades, and time off from being dead." He said, "Depending on how I died, it could be anywhere from a few days to a few years." He pinched the bridge of his nose, "And those ones where it was a few years between? Those were pretty not-fun."

Her nose wrinkled, almost a wince, "Ouch." She shook her head, "Doesn't sound like it would be." It wasn't a long walk, though she was taking the scenic route, past the park, better lighting, just one of those things.

"If you have any idea what Hell's like, even that looked like a day spa. Humans are more cruel than any demon could be. We just play off the innate desires and angers and various other emotions humans possess." He furrowed his brow, "Which is odd, because I've been trying to see if I could relax you all night and it just won't take. I've been chalking it up to your inexperience at being human, but..." He shrugged, "Ah well."

Her brow creased at that, "Is that weird? I mean..." A shrug, "does it happen with people who are used to being human?" She was curious now.

He looked around for the first passerby he could find and then pointed to him - a man, off in the distance about a block and a half away, "That man is very, very sad, and very, very drunk. He's going home to what he knows will be the most intolerable verbal thrashing he's ever gotten by his wife." He shook his head, "Can't have that, now can we." He didn't pause as they walked, he just kept his attention focused on the man who, indeed, seemed to exhude drunken depression, until a sudden change came over his demeanor. The man stood straight, his shoulders back, and he started whistling - it was, of all things, a tune by the Rolling Stones, "That was my fault," He whispered, "And now he's going to go home and without a single word, give his wife a night of romance she'll never forget. See how nice I am?" He joked.

Her brow arched, "And that's not going to cause a storm somewhere else?" She shook her head, figuring that she should explain further, "Chaos theory, butterfly fanning its wings over here results in typhoon over there."

"No, I got the reference. Well, here's the thing. Humans have this little thing called Freedom of Choice. They can choose to do whatever they want, whenever they want to. They can choose to believe in God, and choose to serve Her. Or not. When you take away that freedom of choice, that's what's considered truly evil. None of this killing, smiting, damning crap that we usually get ripped apart for - though I've done plenty of that in my time. But the worst thing any being could do is take away that freedom of another. It's the ultimate sin. What I just did was not just make him lose the choice of being depressed and take his lumps, but I took away his wife's choice of being angry at him. He's probably picking her a dozen roses out of their neighbor's yard, right now."

She nodded, brow creased slightly, apparently thinking this over as well, "A minute ago you said that you just play with what's already there. So somewhere in his psyche, he wanted to do that anyway, right? How is reminding him of another choice the same as taking a different one away?"

"Oh wait, did I? Did I mention I'm a demon yet, because come on, hello. Demon. Demons lie." He winked, "And I meant about the memories thing alone. I planted all that into him, but as for memories... I can't manifest that sort of thing. Memories are different than emotions. Memories are emotions, actions, scents, shapes... everything is stored very specifically. Like how engines are all different, but they all have the same things in generally the same place?" He shrugged. "An entirely different way of going about things. I can also make someone orgasm just by thinking at them." He mentioned.

She shrugged one shoulder, "Yeah, they do, but they also tell the truth." Another shrug, starting walking again, "Still though, there's worse things you could do with a skill like... oh can you?"
Apparently that last part had finally caught up to her.

He smiled, "Why yes, yes I can." and after that, "Oh, I know. I can bend their memories, twist peoples' memories together, sometimes I can even take two peoples' memories and force them to remember everything everyone has ever said about them. I've made so many people commit suicide that it's actually rather comic." He sighed, "But like I said, I'm on vacation. The orgasm thing is entirely optional." He raised a brow. "Why, interested?"
There was a snicker then, "No, but thanks." She shrugged, "Might take you up on it if the whole boyfriend thing doesn't pan out, but it's working alright so far."

"Aw, why are all the tolerable women already taken?" Al mused with a pout. "Well, if you ever decide to let someone with a couple thousand years experience in the field take you for a spin, let me know. Is this your place?" He asked, stepping up to the edge of the Winchester's lawn.
She shrugged, "Don't ask me, I'm new at this." Was the response to the first question, blithely ignoring the statement and nodding at the next question, "Yep, chez Winchester as the boys insist on calling it." She smiled then, "Thanks. Really. And I know how to find you if I need help with the memory thing."

He nodded then and gave a slight bow of his head, "It's been a delight, miss Impala, I certainly hope that the three of you enjoy yourselves soon. If you're ever in the mood to see stick figures parade around in silly outfits, give me a call, we have weekly shows and I'm sure I could get you a couple tickets."

She grinned at that, "Awesome. I'm sure I'll see you around." A mock-salute of a wave then as she headed across the lawn.
Al slipped away and was out of sight before she reached the front door. As was said before, he had quite a speedy walking pace.