ps_you_look_hot | [One For All]: The human bug-zapper

"Yeah, obviously." Owen rolls his eyes. "Course I haven't. Thought about it, but... nope. I'm dead, not a vampire."

He gazes steadily back at Nikola. "You, on the other hand... do I even want to know?" His stare shifts to a glare. "I can't smell anything. So it looks like it's just you getting pissed over a 'stench'."

Like he cares anyway.

"Of course you can't smell it," Nikola says mildly. "You're dead."

He casually taps his fingers together, sending off tiny sparks with each collision. "I don't believe you do want to know what I am. Or rather, I don't believe I'd tell you either way."

Edited 2009-07-03 18:46 (UTC)

"Yeah, because I need to be reminded of that every second of every effing day. Thanks." Owen takes a step backwards, fighting to control his temper. It hurts more every time someone else tells it to him.

"And you expected me to just open my heart. Okay, smart alec, you gonna tell me who you are? You can't be a 'normal'."

To settle the scores just a bit.

"Do you still have a heart?" Nikola asks, eyeing his chest with scientific curiosity. "I wouldn't think you'd need one by this point."

He grins though, because he never gets tired of actually being able to tell people who he is. "Nikola Tesla," he says smugly. "And I'd certainly hope I'm not normal."

"My heart's still in here." Owen sniffs and taps his chest uncomfortably. "What's left of it, anyway. Medically, no. Don't need it."

He tries to keep the sudden wonder out of his eyes, hoping he succeeds. This guy does not need any encouragement. "Tesla the mad scientist? Bloke who invented the radio, in between doing disturbing things with pigeons and dealing with OCD?"

That turned out a little ruder than he meant it to. Oh, well.

Far from being offended, Nikola seems to take this as praise. "The very same," he says, smiling again. "Though I doubt any of the things I got up to with pigeons could rightly be called disturbing, and the OCD was mostly an act to keep people from peering to closely into my private life."

Which, he's willing to admit, did occasionally delve into the disturbing.

Owen's not sure he even wants to touch on Nikola's private life.

He scowls. "So you're dead, too. That or you're immortal? God, you lot pop up everywhere." He thinks about this. "Actually, that kind of figures..."

"I'm not dead, no," Nikola says. "As for being immortal...well, that's one of those things you can only disprove, now isn't it?"

"S'pose. My boss was immortal, he thought, back home - and I helped him maintain that theory," Owen says with a dark grin. "I shot him. Good few times."

"So," he continues, propping himself up on the door-frame. He's genuinely curious, and not about to leave without some answers. "I'm assuming you're not going to tell me what you are? Why not," he slides a glance at Nikola, "is it too scary for the poor little fresh corpse?"

Nikola chuckles. "Well, if you ever feel the need to put a bullet in someone here, I definitely recommend myself. It stings a bit, but that's half the fun, isn't it?

"I'd hardly call you 'fresh' anymore. And I'd hardly worry about scaring you, fresh or not. But we've only just met, now haven't we? You can't expect me to...what was it 'open my heart'? Not just yet, anyway."

Owen holds up his bandaged hand, shrugging. "I wouldn't know. Takes all the fun out of self-harm, it does, being dead."

He bends his finger back just far enough to hurt any living person, and sighs as nothing happens.

Then he tilts his head, thinking. "It freaks me out more when people start being nice to me. Don't blame 'em; I wouldn't be. But I don't think there'll be any trouble of that with you." Owen grins.

"Oh, now that is a shame," Nikola says. "At least I can still feel." Not that he at all views his condition in a negative light.

He grins wolfishly at Owen. "It's been a very long time indeed since I've been accused of being nice."

"Tell me about it," Owen agrees. "Sucks big time when your fatal wound still effing itches, but you can't even have a cup of coffee - or anything else that requires bodily functions. At-flippin'-all."

Accused of being nice? he wonders. Aloud, he says, "That I can well believe. People, they just stab you in the back however nice you are."

"I can think of several things requiring bodily functions that I'd miss a hell of a lot more than coffee," Nikola says, amused.

"People," he adds, expression darkening just a bit, "are assholes in general. Affectations of niceness only serve to exacerbate that."

"It is the small things you miss. Like coffee," Owen says, smiling slightly, "but that's the one I pulled up for use in polite conversation." Now he's really trying not to laugh.

"The people thing..." His humour fades a little. "I used to think that. And then, then I met Will Zimmerman, when I was apparently so out of it I thought my voice had been lost in translation across the Rift, and he helped me; is helping me. Well, he just wouldn't give up," he adds seriously.

"This is polite conversation?"

He smirks darkly. "Ah yes. Young William. Such a budding philanthropist. Genuinely nice, through and through." There's more than a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"Nope."

That smirk looks a bit iffy. But, really - Zimmerman?

"What's he done to you? This may not be polite conversation, but I've got this feeling that on your bad side is not a fun place to be."

Oh. Way for Owen 'bull in a china shop' Harper.

"Nothing I won't recover from," Nikola says. "I just find it amusing how well he keeps up the 'wide-eyed innocence' schtick considering his levels of deviousness and manipulation."

Owen is silent as he has to reconsider everything he thought he knew about Zimmerman.

The doctor certainly gives the shrink a hard time, and they've only just met. Niceness isn't always on the agenda, but he thought they'd come to some sort of mutual understanding.

So how could Will have pissed off Nikola so much? Anyone, he guesses, would find it tough to manipulate Tesla.

Aloud, he says, "What the hell would I know? I've only just got here. But he did say he does some ungodly things to keep his Magnus safe...?"

Nikola rolls his eyes. "Of course, he did. The day Will goes a total of twenty minutes without touting his loyalty to Helen...well, I'd start worrying about the end of the world."

"I wasn't counting the minutes."

It almost feels like a betrayal. He should have known, he guesses grimly. There's always things people don't tell you - and then you get caught in the middle.

He has enough on his plate already. Owen shrugs, attempting to sound neutral. "If she's that special to him, why not?"

Nikola's expression darkens again. "She's 'that special' and more to a lot of people on a scale Will can't even begin to imagine, but we don't all go around talking about her constantly. There are other things in the world that Helen Magnus, and Will seems to forget that more often than not."

Owen holds up his hands in surrender. "Take it up with him. I'm not trying to make enemies here." He takes a step back, trying to appear relaxed. "Lot of people get out their coffins on the wrong side in this place, don't they?' he jokes nervously.

He casts around for a change of subject. "Anything interesting there?" he offers, gesturing to Nikola's project.

Nikola shrugs. "You asked why not. I merely told you why not."

He picks up his project, something akin to an old radio, out of its case. "Not particularly. I just wanted something to do with my hands. It was either this or find someone's neck to snap."

He says this casually, of course, but that doesn't mean he doesn't mean it.

(ooc: sorry I'm being slow, RL keeps getting in the way)

"Yeah, I know the feeling," Owen says hastily and more than a little thankfully. "I used to go for the old slice-into-an-alien-body thing when there weren't any necks around to snap. Fun times... "

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject