Thread: Strange Town, Strange Folks (Chichi Cheetah & Sheena-Tiger)

You'd be surprised how common fake names are here, Tybalt sighed. Or not, given what your line of work seems to be. With that, the bar owner stepped outside, the bell jingling as he went through the door. Cathy watched him walk to his car through the window and smiled a little, glad that both Emilia and 'Chad' clearly appreciated Ty's generosity. He'd always been like that - bit of a softy. Emilia's question made the young goth cough a bit into his drink. Hmm? 'Chad' blinked over his glass and chuckled nervously, shaking his head and swallowing his gulp of tea. Oh, no, the tea's not spicy. My breakfast is. It's um. He scratched behind one of his ears, trying to find a way to explain it without sounding absolutely batshit. Or masochistic. As he lifted that arm, his sleeve slid down a little on his wrist was a heavy, dark bangle that twisted around itself. Judging by a similar shape under the sleeve of his other arm, he was wearing two of those bracelets. Chad here has been fond of my spicier dishes for years, Cathy laughed, covering a cooking pile of eggs on the stove with a heavy metal lid. This was less for cooking the eggs which seemed to have turned an interesting reddish color from whatever sauce she'd just drizzled on top and more for keeping the vapors contained - her eyes were clearly watering and she pulled out some eye drops as she walked over to the sink to use them after carefully washing her hands. Whew! Those peppers are too much for Toni, most days, how you and Ty eat them is beyond me, she teased the boy. He shrugged meekly and looked at Emilia. I really like hot food. Like, hot hot. The stuff most people wouldn't think of poking because they're not half insane, he joked, but the ones she uses are the only ones I've ever had that make me break an actual sweat anymore! It's amazing. If you say so. I still can't feel the left half of my mouth after the last time you had me try those sauces of yours, Cathy stuck her tongue out before getting back to work cooking. For a woman who seemed to be in her mid-forties, she certainly acted quite young. Out in the parking lot, Tybalt had popped open the hood on his car - an old Buick by the look of it, clearly a classic that was painstakingly taken care of - and was checking a few things - oil, windshield washing fluid, making sure the engine wasn't venting anywhere it shouldn't have been. It had been making an off noise for the past week and it was starting to drive him up a wall or two. Eh, nothing Toni can't fix, he muttered, wiping his hands on a blue shop paper towel and tucking it into a blue plastic bag under the driver's seat - he had a bin he threw them into at home, he'd deal with it later. As he turned to close the hood, he paused, a hand on it as he peered into the woods behind the diner. An off scent just barely crossed his nose, the smell of something rotting - sickly sweet, gag-worthy even with this slight hint of it in the air. But it quickly passed and he slammed the hood down a little too hard - the catch didn't click if he dropped it normally - and he leaned against the side of it, staring into the trees as he focused his senses on his surroundings. He was being watched - that was certain. But he wasn't what it was looking for... but if it wasn't him, who was it? His unease soon passed and he let out the breath he hadn't been aware he'd been holding, pinching the bridge of his nose and shutting his eyes. Getting too old for this, he groaned, pushing off of his car and grabbing his cigarettes from his driver's seat. The thought of being too old almost made him laugh. He'd thought that a lot over the years, first when he turned thirty, then eighty, then a hundred and seventy four... and on... and on... he'd stopped keeping track of the birthdays, forgotten what milestones were important. As long as Toni didn't find out the truth, that they were both older than Toni thought, then it was fine. Totally fine.