Max Black (cupcake_dream) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2013-04-15 00:59:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, khamul, max black |
WHO: Max Black and Khamul
WHAT: Meeting and Having Brunch
WHEN: Backdated: Sunday, March 17th. Afternoon
WHERE: Ruby's Diner
RATING: PG
STATUS: Complete
Khamul arrived at the diner, getting off his motorcycle and striding inside. He wore tight black leather pants, a white shirt, and a long black coat over it. He looked around with amber eyes and did the best he could to keep his naturally ringwraithy aura from scaring away all the patrons.
Max had already arrived at the diner a little before Khamul and was sitting at the counter, talking to one of the other waitresses when he came in. She’d been so wrapped up in the conversation that she hadn’t even realized it until the girl she was talking to suddenly stopped and stared past her. Turning in her seat, Max glanced towards the door, brows raising when she saw the man, “I think that’s who I’ve been waiting for.” Sliding off the stool, Max approached Khamul and smirked, “Are those pants painted on?”
“Yeah. I get up every morning and spray paint it on. It takes four coats to get this look,” Khamul replied, grinning at her and checking her out openly.
“I don’t even see how you’re able to walk in those things.” Max was long past caring when guys, or girls, checked her out anymore, because now it was just an everyday occurrence and if she told off everyone that she caught staring at her boobs then she’d lose her voice, “We can use the booth other there.” She gestured towards one in the corner then turned and headed towards it.
He grinned, his mind going to places about how they could use that booth. He followed her, pulling his coat off as he walked. It was getting too warm for it now, but Khamul rarely felt that warm anymore. “Very carefully.”
“You’re going to squeak on the vinyl.” Max smirked as she slid into the booth on one side and waited for Khamul to slide in on the other side, “I warn you now that I probably will laugh. Can’t help it.” She shrugged and took one of the menus that was at the end of the table and placed in front of where he would be sitting. She worked there, so she really didn’t need a menu.
Khamul slid into the seat, and he did squeak a little bit. He gave Max a glare, but said nothing, as it was offset by a smirk.
“So, creepy guy from the internet, why don’t you tell me something about yourself.” She crossed her arms and leaned them on the table. She was wearing a short sleeved shirt today, so unfortunately for Khamul, there was no cleavage at the moment, but her boobs were still kind of hard to miss.
They were hard to miss. “What do you want to know?” I’m a Nazgul with creepy shadow powers and a love for shiny things who’s part of an multinational yazuka syndicate. “I’m a body guard.”
Max shrugged, “Whatever. Figure I should know something about you, don’t you think?” Max sat back, arms still crossed as the waitress she had been talking to before came over with a pot of coffee. Max turned her cup over so she’d fill it, “Where do you bodyguard?” She asked, quirking a brow.
“Some starlet on some show I don’t watch,” he replied, shrugging a shoulder. He didn’t really watch Ginny’s show. Ever. It wasn’t his kind of thing.
Max nodded and grabbed a few packs of sugar, which she added to the coffee, “Ever had to take anyone down?” She asked, mixing the sugar in.
“My favorite time was when I got to slam this guy into a brick wall....” Khamul grinned, thinking about it. “Some fans like to get touchy. I like to break things. It works out.”
“Bet he didn’t try that again,” Max said, running a hand through her dark, wavy hair, “I’m glad that I’m not in that business. I’d probably wind up telling everyone what I really thought about them.”
“I do, so she doesn’t have to.” Khamul’s smile was big and white, and vaguely resembled that of a cheshire cat.
Max took a sip of her coffee as she listened to Khamul, “Sounds like she’s lucky to have you around.” Max had heard some crazy stories about crazed fans and celebrities and it sounded like Khamul was on top of things and whichever actress he worked for was in good hands.
He shrugged again. It was hard to really care about it. He had fun doing what he did, and he got to hang around an attractive woman. It was win win. “It’s a paycheck and I get to have fun.”
“I wish I got to have fun at my job,” Max’s voice was a little higher than it would have been otherwise, but there was a teasing tone to it as well and her attention was in the direction of a man at the counter who merely rolled his eyes at her and smirked. It wasn’t the first time her boss had heard her say something like that and she was usually joking. After all, how many managers of a diner would let one of their waitresses sell her own cupcakes and not ask for any of the profits?
Khamul rolled his own eyes at Max’s tone. “Something tells me that you do. So do you do anything besides meet strange men at diners?”
Max smirked as she brought her attention back to Khamul, “Well, I got out with my doppelganger to fuck with people, I make and sell cupcakes and I’m saving money to open my own cupcake shop someday.” Talking about Darcy reminded her that she had to set a date for her little get together with her, Faye, Vala and Huck for a pot cupcakes tasting. That was found to be an interesting night.
“Doppleganger?” Khamul asked. “There are two of you? The universe hasn’t imploded yet?”
“Her name’s Darcy. You’d think we were twins.” Max still thought it was extremely cool that her and Darcy looked exactly alike, but weren’t related, “It’s pretty crazy, but extremely cool.”
"I don't think I'd want someone who looked like me. Although fucking with them would be a lot of fun." Khamul grinned.
“Darcy and I just go out and mess with everyone else.” She glanced over at her boss who was still behind the counter then back at Khamul, “We’ve discussed switching places at work. Seeing if anyone notices.”
"Try it." Khamul liked to troll people, and that would be a hilarious type of trolling. He leaned back in his seat and grinned. "Bet you a hundred bucks no one notices.”
Max quirked a brow at that, “I’d have to run that by Darcy, but it’s a tempting offer.” At that moment the waitress came back and Max ordered a stack of chocolate chip pancakes and waited for Khamul to place his order.
Khamul shrugged and ordered the same thing. He figured Max knew what was good, and he wasn’t picky when it came to food. Too many years living on the edge of society had made him appreciate just about anything. And pancakes were never a bad idea. “One hundred each.”
“I will definitely mention it to Darcy soon and get back to you.” A hundred bucks could really help her at the moment. It might not have seemed like a lot to some people, but depending on which savings account she put it into, it could help a lot.
He didn’t care about that. He just wanted to see if they’d pull it off. It would be worth losing two hundred for his efforts. Sowing a little chaos never felt so good. “You can find me on the ‘net.”
“Normally something like that would be incredibly creepy, but...no, it still sounds creepy.” Max smirked and took a sip of her coffee, “So, speaking of the net, have you had weird dreams like everyone else there?” Max hadn’t had any other dreams since that first night, but she was interested to find out what else would happen with this Caroline.
“I conquer most of my world’s eastern lands,” He answered, readily, his grin widening. “I was a king. A warlord. My armor was made from dragon scale.”
Max quirked a brow as she listened, “I make cupcakes and wear a really ugly waitress uniform. So, I guess not much is different from my real life except that I had a sort of business partner who I don’t have here.” A few months earlier the things that Khamul told her would have caused her to tell him to fuck off, but she’d read all of the various things people on the net had posted about their dreams, so she kind of had to believe him.
“Cupcakes are important too,” Khamul pointed out, helpfully. He tapped his fingers on the edge of the table, eyeing her as though he were studying her.
“Oh, cupcakes are very important.” Max said as the waitress brought their food, “Making cupcakes is how I earn extra money. I guess you could call me a cupcake whore.” She smirked as she put butter and syrup on her pancakes, “I’m trying to earn enough money to open my own shop someday.” It wasn’t like it was a secret. Max had a tendency to tell just about anyone that would listen about her dream.
“How’s that turning out for you?” Khamul asked, leaning forward to watch her. He almost seemed like he was interested. Almost.
“It’s still a long way off, but it’s getting there.” Considering she was also saving money to get a better apartment, it was going to take awhile unless she hit the lottery or had a wealthy relative that she didn’t know about die and decide to leave her a large sum of money.
“Maybe you’ll win the lottery.” Then get killed in a car wreck, that’s how those things usually went. He thought about it, for a moment. “What if I knew some unscrupulous people willing to lend money.”
Max set down her fork and knife, quirking a brow, “Is this like back alley, sketchy type of lending money?” As much as Max wanted to see her dream come true, she didn’t want to wind up getting mixed up with the wrong kind of people.
“Could say that. They’re trying to extend into...nicer sorts of activities.” What Max didn’t know the details off couldn’t hurt her. Mostly.
“And what would they want in exchange for this loan?” Max was skeptical, but she’d hear him out because she was curious, to say the least.
“Business partnerships. Payback the loan, plus ten percent,” Khamul offered, his smile bright.
Max ‘Hmmmed’ for a moment before responding, “Well, I need to find out how much the devil would be willing to shell out for my soul first, but I’ll get back to you on that one.” Max’s red lips turned up into a smirk.
“The devil’s terms can be very generous,” Khamul replied. He’d have to contact Iroh on the idea. It was something weird, a cupcakery, but if it brought in revenue, who really cared right?
“Well then, when I hear back from him, I’ll let you know.” Max cut into her pancakes and started eating then. She might have been a bit biased, but as far as she was concerned, the diner had the best pancakes she’d ever eaten.
They were pretty damn good pancakes, Khamul thought. He liked the syrup too, but the eye candy was the best.
“So, what do you do in your spare time when you’re not keeping stalkers away from starlets or trying to make shady deals?” Max smirked around her fork as she took another bite of her pancakes.
That was a good question. Khamul didn’t have many hobbies. “Walk around a lot. Get into fights. Ride horses.”
“Get into fights? You run some sort of fight club? Oh wait, if you did then you wouldn’t be able to talk about it.” Max’s smirk widened slightly and she took a sip of her coffee.
“Can’t talk about it. More fun than fight clubs.” Khamul grinned at her. There were things he couldn’t go into detail about, but he certainly enjoyed doing them.
“Of course you can’t. Ya know, when people say they can’t talk about something like a fight club, I assume that what they’ve really got going on is like a knitting club or something and they’re just too embarrassed to talk about it,” Max quirked a brow, still smirking.
“Oh, I love knitting. Really dark and creepy things, like...bats. Or shit.” He knew nothing of knitting, but it was actually a bit like fight club, if fight club was being a high ranking member of a crime syndicate.
Max nodded, the expression on her face indicating that she didn’t believe him at all, “Right. Anyone ever tell you that you’re not good at improvising?” She had to admit that he was rather mysterious and she really wouldn’t be surprised if he was part of some weird fight club.
He smirked at her. “Have you ever watched those Hong Hong kung fu crime movies?”
“Can’t say that I have.” Max said, shaking her head then rested her chin on her palm, “Is that what your fight club, that you can’t talk about, is like?”
“Yeah.” Khamul looked like he was telling the truth, and not even exaggerating all that much. He flashed her a grin. “Only with less backstabbing.”
“Oh good. I mean, if you’re gonna stab someone then it’s just a cop out to do it in the back.” Max grinned, red lips spread across white teeth.
He thought this woman was interesting, to say the least. “In the chest, or in the face. Sometimes all you need is a fist.”
“And I’m sure you enjoy when you get to punch someone in the face.” Max’s brows rose slightly as she spoke, wondering what exactly Khamul was actually into. She doubted it was an actual fight club, in which case it was probably something that wasn’t strictly legal.
He did enjoy that part, quite a bit. More than he probably should, and this was written on his face. “Maybe I’ll do some of that later.”
“You’re gonna go punch someone in the face and all I’m gonna do is go home and make some cupcakes.” Not that Max minded really. Sure, she wouldn’t mind punching someone in the face, but she had no desire to actually get into a fight.
“Save some for me,” Khamul said, getting to his feet. This talk of fighting was getting him a little antsy.
“What’s your favorite?” Max asked, also getting to her feet. She’d left money for her food on the table as well as a tip, knowing that her co-worker would be by to grab it right after they left, “I’ll make you your own batch.”
He paused to think about it. Favorite cupcake? He wasn’t sure he had one. “I’ve always liked lemons.”
“Lemons. Alright. Looks like I’ll be hitting google soon.” She smirked and ran a hand through her hair, “I’ll let you know when you’ve got cupcakes then.” Max enjoyed looking up new recipes, so this was going to be fun.
“Thanks.” the wraith flashed another grin, and walked out the door with the same sort of swagger he’d walked in with.