the name game
Muses: Cade Lu (vibrantdecay) and Elliot Do (lastadvise)
Status: Closed
Date / Time: 08/12, Evening
Rating: G
Type: Log
Summary: Cade bothers Elliot yet again and begins Rumplestiltskin's game.
There was something simplistic about walking through the shopping district in the evening. No matter what day it was, or what time of the year (barring, perhaps, the lunar new year), lights both neon and fluorescent shone, illuminating streets and building and all the people weaving in and out of this alley and that aisle to procure individual material needs. A new book, a new pair of shoes, cups of coffee or tea both steaming and iced and topped with sickly sweet things! It was a strange form of entertainment. Here he was, a part of this population, an unspoken movement of normalcy, and he still felt no connection to it all.
How did he fit into the coffee shop with their overpriced treats? How did he fit into the electronic store with televisions and refrigerators of cutting edge technology? How did he fit in the families with sticky-fingered children giggling and squabbling over toys that beeped? His own apartment was outfitted elegantly for sure, with all the creature comforts a man in his twenties would need or want, and despite being restructured for a different type of sustenance upon his death, he did develop quite the tooth for sweets, but calling himself a part of ... this?
Half of this were what fed him and kept him alive.
It was thoughts like these that kept him company on nights he either did not want to, or could not wrangle one of his few close acquaintances along to stop his thoughts from going a little too overboard.
Tired of meandering around, finally, Cade headed towards the plaza where it was calmer. Tuesday night it might be, yet the sentiment of a weeknight was apparently not quite what it used to be. Still, he would never be here on a weekend, when the crowd would swell up in a stifling manner, and had slowly learned to accept the busier streets of Hong Kong over time. He wasn't, after all, an actual agoraphobic. The sound infiltrating through the plaza was familiar and a lot more preferable over mindless chatter he could easily pick up from the next bench, and a small smile perked Cade's lips as he searched the faces, gaze finally falling upon the little man with his instrument perched upon a shoulder.
'What a perfect distraction.'
Half-emptied cup in hand (he had given in to the human craving and purchased his own obnoxious cup of ice-blended sugar), Cade stepped closer, staying at the fringe of the sparse crowd around the violinist, waiting for the song to be over as he idly ruminated over the ways he could possibly annoy the man this time.
So, no working today. His wife was busy and he decided to extend his usual everyday playing on the streets. One hour was not cutting it, he wanted to play all the songs that were on repeat in his head. Right now, unfortunately, was the last song on his playlist and his fingers were already quite sensitive from pressing them against the strings for such a prolonged time. The song was being played with the aid of the repetition pedal, that helped him to create a more "One Man Band" thing and it is way more interesting and entertaining to watch the production and the result later. Wherever You Will Go is an old song, but most people know it and he enjoys it a lot, vivid memories of singing it with his sister at home, there's probably a video or two of them when he was over for summer vacation.
He never really played for money on the streets. He refused taking money for music most of his life, until he started to work as an in-house musician at Disney. When he started to play it, young as ever on the streets of France, all he wanted was really the smile on people's faces and that habit has grown to adulthood. Of course, now he dos work with music and gets paid for it, but after so many jobs that didn't captivate him, it was worth a trial. Sure, he loved being a teacher, but bringing work home after a hard day of kids ignoring all the explanations he had given wasn't that nice and working at a hotel was tiring, specially with an ability as his.
It's been a little wonky ever since he came back from the hot beaches of his former home, back to a power node. It's like he has been getting even more information and processing things too quickly so that people get a little scared when he says "I know that" out of habit. There's no one that isn't supernatural around him, with the exception of his beloved wife, so he's used to being open about it that he has to watch himself in front of someone new. It's been off for a while now, he didn't want to come home with a headache.
At the sight of Cade, he smiled a little bit. The song continued for a minute or two before he was bowing and thanking everyone who spent their precious time to share music in both perfect English, and terrible Cantonese.
Cade gave a soft snort at Elliot's attempt at Cantonese. Never mind the fact that he himself could barely carry a conversation in the language either, despite its relation to Mandarin. It was a blessing, perhaps, that he had never really been in any situation where he couldn't avoid it. Still, despite all that, it was always amusing to hear the convoluted syllables come from someone else's mouth. Particularly so when that person was a stranger. And for a moment, he wondered if the violinist could be considered a stranger anymore. Cade was certain he had bothered the man with the British accent enough times to make an impression. Not that he himself wasn't impressionable - he had heard enough comments to feel pretty confident about it, even the ones from those who called him a twelve year old (namely certain bratty neighbours, really) - but he always had a penchant for going big, or not at all.
When the song ended (a familiar crowd-pleaser, one he'd heard quite a bit over the years), Cade simply raised his cup when others clapped or showed their appreciation in some other noisy manner. Such class and dignity. As the crowd dispersed, presumably to their own respective mundane little lives, the vampire took a few steps closer, gazing at the violin for a contemplative moment.
"Do you have a name for it?" He asked finally. No 'hello' or 'how have you been' or greeting of any sort - when had Cade ever been the type to stick to mandatory conversation guidelines, after all? For one who knocked down one neighbour before asking her out for coffee and stalked another into the woods, this was quite civil for his standards. "Most people name the possessions they love, don't they?"
The violin picked for today was one he has won in competitions, it's a wood so clear that could be disguised as white, he won that on a competition and it stays close to his heart. At the other's question, his big eyes goggled a little bit. Not of susprise, he was used to him asking random questions, but just because he wasn't expecting that one. Has he even thought of it for this one violin? His reaction was to shake his head a few times, scratching the tattoo on his palm as he thought about this particular subject. "Not this one. My first one is named Fleur," he replied, laughing a little. Fleur because of his sister's Rose, it's the nickname he gave her long ago.
"No name? How sad," he remarked, shaking his head in mock sorrow at the violin despite his features carrying not a single trace of the emotion. Instead, he casually shook his cup, resettling the icy sludge within before taking a sip. Cold drink on cold lips. Cade especially liked rewarding himself with frozen sweet treats in the winter. When human lips and fingertips would turn blue from the onslaught of cold, he revelled in it. It was the same way with hot drinks right in the heat of summer, although he favoured this a little less. Heat never stayed with him. He was Death: cold and unfeeling and always a little strange.
"Name it Al," suggested the vampire, a smile at the corner of his lips at the hidden joke, and if Elliot asked, he resolved not to indulge. Al, for albino, of course, of course. "That way it won't get jealous that your first violin has a name." Cade tilted his head at the Brit. "You don't want that to happen, do you?"
He laughed a little bit, not knowing exactly what to add. He isn't a very creative one, the only thing he was able to name well were pets. Probably why he'd let child naming to her wife if they were ever to be parents. But he thinks the idea is sweet, even if they're not even ready for children at the moment. He's 25, anxious, awkward, probably a sucky dad now and she's 22, young, free and beautiful. Perhaps when they're on their 30's that would be a good time.
The name suggestion made him laugh once again. "That would remind me of Aladdin, that's a little bit too much Disney on me," which probably didn't make sense for the other, since he doesn't have the knowledge that Elliot in fact, works at Disney as a musician himself. "A Violin Hunger Games?" Sounded funny in his head. He's regretting a little for saying that outloud already. "I never caught your name?"
"..." Disney?!? That was quite possibly the most insulting reference he'd heard all week, and this was including being mistaken for a ghost just a few nights ago in the middle of the woods. Cade wasn't even sure he should dignify Elliot's assumption with a correction: was it even necessary? So he made a face instead, distaste lining his features for a moment before letting out a soft snort at the violinist's next comment. "Sure. Killer violins. Surely you've heard of it. They can get pretty gnarly when vengeful, you should be careful," he added with a confident little nod.
At the next question, Cade's usual sly smile returned to his lips. "No, you never did," he agreed, feeling mischievous and coy as he ended it at that. Why offer his name so soon? Elliot had nothing on him, nothing to barter for in exchange for his name - a made up name but a name, nonetheless - and Cade was fine with not knowing the other's name either. Not yet. He still wasn't done playing. "But I'll tell you this: it's definitely not Al."
His ability was off, so he mostly felt a little slower to understand the cues. He wasn't suspicious of the other guy and his face wasn't quite mysterious about his opinion of his comment. Usually his ability pops up in time of danger, or suspicious.of something, but he is't at the moment. "My wife is pretty strong," he said, nodding and this time he wasn't kidding at all.
He laughed, perhaps he was starting a friendship here and he isn`t good at starting them. He wasn`t good at talking or socialising, so he blinked a few times. "What is it then?"
Wife? Cade stared at the man for a moment, confusion evident upon his features. When did the subject of spouses come up? Or was this guy referring to his violin as his wife? The sad thing was, Cade knew quite a number of people who referred to inanimate objects as their other halves. Cars, wide-screen television sets, gadgets from phones to computers, even the occasional bed. Most of them, thankfully, were said in jest. If Cade himself ever made that same joke, his chosen spouse would undoubtedly be his favourite brand of sweet red, chilled and mixed into a pitcher of donor blood. There was simply nothing quite like it.
"... right."
Cade was just as lousy with friendships, and until now, refused to call any of his close acquaintances his friends. There was too much attachment involved with that word. Attachment he could not afford, not anymore, and not when everyone eventually left him one way or another.
No one ever stayed.
"Mm. What if I play Rumplestiltskin? Guess my name right, and ..." he paused, searching his brain for a fitting equivalent. There were no firstborn children at stake here, after all. "I'll stop bothering you with the crazy questions for two weeks."
He started to put his things together, violin to case, stand to a little book like device and pedals to its bag. He was so organised beforehand that putting it together and apart was a matter of a few minutes, sometimes seconds if he's in a hush. Cade had managed to get an actual laugh out of Elliot, his nerdy side coming to show when he did so. "You don't seem like the dark one, and you don't bother me," he said, honest words coming off his lips. If anything, Cade amused Elliot more than he'd expect.
"I don't?" Cade creased his features into a frown, disguising his mutual amusement. That was certainly a first. Most people were certainly bothered by his incessant questions, or unintentional stalking. Could he really help it that he was always naturally curious? Even when he knew the answer to something, Cade simply could not help but ask anyway, just to see what kind of answer he would get - would he be lied to or would he be given the truth? What reaction would he get along with their response? Few managed to bother him in return, although he certainly could name one or two and he most definitely wanted nothing to do with them. Why try to bother someone who bothered him too? There was no fun in that at all.
"Huh. Guess you're not like everyone else. It's your accent, isn't it?" He smirked. "I'm not telling you my name if I don't get anything out of it."
Elliot gestured for the other follow so he could put his things on the trunk of his car, his 1996 BMW was spotless and scratchless, which didn't match much because he probably would have angered one or two with his vicious driving. He laughed, nodding his head in agreement. "I can offer tea?"
The offer for tea nearly made him laugh. Hadn't he been offered tea (of sorts) in exchange for something not too long ago? Cade idly wondered if there was something about him that screamed tea connoseiur, and especially right at this moment, with his half-finished cup of iced coffee in his hands. It made no real sense. He quirked an amused smile insead, easily following in the other's wake.
"What kind of tea? Does it have to be tea, though? Or is it a British thing and you're allergic to anything but tea?" He paused. "And crumpets. What are crumpets, anyway?"
Elliot never really thought about it much, he has loved tea ever since he was young and he wasn't sure if his household was just really into tea or his culture influenced the heavy drinking of such beverage in his household. Do they even drink that much tea? Perhaps the fact everyone else points it out to him makes him feel a little ethnocentric, everyone is weird but himself. At the questions, he shrugged a little bit. "What do you want? Crumpets are like little cakes." Talking about home makes his accent even heavier, even if he already sounds as English as he could be.
The vampire made a soft sound with his tongue, shaking his head slightly, eyes slanting briefly towards the Brit. "If I had to ask for something I want, that takes the fun out of everything, don't you think?" Besides, he thought to himself as he idly shook his cup - watching as the condensed little droplets on the outside dripped into each other, flinging off onto the ground in miniscule sprays - he wasn't a child or anything like one of his neighbours who leeched drinks and treats off complete strangers in exchange for things. A small, amused smile ticked the side of his lips at the thought, and he briefly wondered if it was still too early to start bothering said neighbour again.
"But," he continued after a moment, relenting with a small purse of his lips. "Little cakes sound like a pretty good idea, actually. I wouldn't be opposed to that."
"It's easier," he just shrugged towards the other male. Elliot isn't a man of many words. He's so socially awkward it's a little hard for him to actually be himself around new people, and Cade, even though they've seen each other a few times, still fell into that category. With the confirmation he gave about the cakes, tea, whatever they're having, he just gestured for the other to get in the car. It's old, but it's as clean as it could be. As soon as Elliot was settled in and buckled, he turned on the sound, it's pretty loud with Bon Jovi's 'It's My Life', and he proceeded to turn it down immediately. "Sorry."
To say the smaller man wasn't a man of many words would be quite the understatement, although it probably wasn't a fair judgement when placed next to Cade, an essentially eternal creature with endless questions and curiosities to be sated. Yet, so used Cade was to being the more vocal one in conversations that the thought didn't quite cross his mind. The lesser they talked, in fact, the more intriguing it made them, even if there could be absolutely nothing under the surface. No mystery there for him to unearth, no great secret to uncover. Nothing but another human being with nothing to offer him but a waste of a bit of his time.
Cade licked over his lips, tasting cream and flavoured syrup stains, and gave the violinist a cheeky look. "You know. I don't even know your name and you're asking me to get in your car for sweets." He leaned in, looking through the window on the passenger side instead of getting inside, and stifled his laugh as he put on his best look of innocence. 'This is where those annoying 12 year old comments can come in handy.' "What if I'm underaged, sir?"
Elliot only took a look on Cade's face, and then up and down. From the features of his face and the shape of his bones, he knew he wasn't 12 years old. Not to mention, Elliot himself looks like a mid schooler himself so he's not easily fooled on that matter, investigation ability on or not. He rolled down the the windows to reply. "If you're underage, so am I. But I'm a stable married 25 year old man. It's your choice," he said before cleaning his round glasses for a better look of the road. He isn't very happy that the fact his contacts expired. He looks like a great nerd.
The truth wasn't that Cade was wary of getting into a stranger's car out of fear. Fear had nothing to do with anything, and the last time he had felt real fear, it had been mostly in his head. This was a simple matter of preference. Why would he willingly put himself in a situation where he wasn't the one in control? Out on the square where he could fire off questions without concern, he was in his element. Getting into a stranger's car would shift the control over, and despite his enhanced senses and abilities, Cade hated the feeling of surrender, that someone else would be - quite aptly - in the driver's seat.
A small smile gently curved the corner of his lips, and he shook his head, making his choice. "You're right, it is. It would be a little troublesome for me if I got in. But listen. I may pay a visit to Café Loisl tomorrow evening. You can buy me a treat there if you still want my name."
Status: Closed
Date / Time: 08/12, Evening
Rating: G
Type: Log
Summary: Cade bothers Elliot yet again and begins Rumplestiltskin's game.
There was something simplistic about walking through the shopping district in the evening. No matter what day it was, or what time of the year (barring, perhaps, the lunar new year), lights both neon and fluorescent shone, illuminating streets and building and all the people weaving in and out of this alley and that aisle to procure individual material needs. A new book, a new pair of shoes, cups of coffee or tea both steaming and iced and topped with sickly sweet things! It was a strange form of entertainment. Here he was, a part of this population, an unspoken movement of normalcy, and he still felt no connection to it all.
How did he fit into the coffee shop with their overpriced treats? How did he fit into the electronic store with televisions and refrigerators of cutting edge technology? How did he fit in the families with sticky-fingered children giggling and squabbling over toys that beeped? His own apartment was outfitted elegantly for sure, with all the creature comforts a man in his twenties would need or want, and despite being restructured for a different type of sustenance upon his death, he did develop quite the tooth for sweets, but calling himself a part of ... this?
Half of this were what fed him and kept him alive.
It was thoughts like these that kept him company on nights he either did not want to, or could not wrangle one of his few close acquaintances along to stop his thoughts from going a little too overboard.
Tired of meandering around, finally, Cade headed towards the plaza where it was calmer. Tuesday night it might be, yet the sentiment of a weeknight was apparently not quite what it used to be. Still, he would never be here on a weekend, when the crowd would swell up in a stifling manner, and had slowly learned to accept the busier streets of Hong Kong over time. He wasn't, after all, an actual agoraphobic. The sound infiltrating through the plaza was familiar and a lot more preferable over mindless chatter he could easily pick up from the next bench, and a small smile perked Cade's lips as he searched the faces, gaze finally falling upon the little man with his instrument perched upon a shoulder.
'What a perfect distraction.'
Half-emptied cup in hand (he had given in to the human craving and purchased his own obnoxious cup of ice-blended sugar), Cade stepped closer, staying at the fringe of the sparse crowd around the violinist, waiting for the song to be over as he idly ruminated over the ways he could possibly annoy the man this time.
So, no working today. His wife was busy and he decided to extend his usual everyday playing on the streets. One hour was not cutting it, he wanted to play all the songs that were on repeat in his head. Right now, unfortunately, was the last song on his playlist and his fingers were already quite sensitive from pressing them against the strings for such a prolonged time. The song was being played with the aid of the repetition pedal, that helped him to create a more "One Man Band" thing and it is way more interesting and entertaining to watch the production and the result later. Wherever You Will Go is an old song, but most people know it and he enjoys it a lot, vivid memories of singing it with his sister at home, there's probably a video or two of them when he was over for summer vacation.
He never really played for money on the streets. He refused taking money for music most of his life, until he started to work as an in-house musician at Disney. When he started to play it, young as ever on the streets of France, all he wanted was really the smile on people's faces and that habit has grown to adulthood. Of course, now he dos work with music and gets paid for it, but after so many jobs that didn't captivate him, it was worth a trial. Sure, he loved being a teacher, but bringing work home after a hard day of kids ignoring all the explanations he had given wasn't that nice and working at a hotel was tiring, specially with an ability as his.
It's been a little wonky ever since he came back from the hot beaches of his former home, back to a power node. It's like he has been getting even more information and processing things too quickly so that people get a little scared when he says "I know that" out of habit. There's no one that isn't supernatural around him, with the exception of his beloved wife, so he's used to being open about it that he has to watch himself in front of someone new. It's been off for a while now, he didn't want to come home with a headache.
At the sight of Cade, he smiled a little bit. The song continued for a minute or two before he was bowing and thanking everyone who spent their precious time to share music in both perfect English, and terrible Cantonese.
Cade gave a soft snort at Elliot's attempt at Cantonese. Never mind the fact that he himself could barely carry a conversation in the language either, despite its relation to Mandarin. It was a blessing, perhaps, that he had never really been in any situation where he couldn't avoid it. Still, despite all that, it was always amusing to hear the convoluted syllables come from someone else's mouth. Particularly so when that person was a stranger. And for a moment, he wondered if the violinist could be considered a stranger anymore. Cade was certain he had bothered the man with the British accent enough times to make an impression. Not that he himself wasn't impressionable - he had heard enough comments to feel pretty confident about it, even the ones from those who called him a twelve year old (namely certain bratty neighbours, really) - but he always had a penchant for going big, or not at all.
When the song ended (a familiar crowd-pleaser, one he'd heard quite a bit over the years), Cade simply raised his cup when others clapped or showed their appreciation in some other noisy manner. Such class and dignity. As the crowd dispersed, presumably to their own respective mundane little lives, the vampire took a few steps closer, gazing at the violin for a contemplative moment.
"Do you have a name for it?" He asked finally. No 'hello' or 'how have you been' or greeting of any sort - when had Cade ever been the type to stick to mandatory conversation guidelines, after all? For one who knocked down one neighbour before asking her out for coffee and stalked another into the woods, this was quite civil for his standards. "Most people name the possessions they love, don't they?"
The violin picked for today was one he has won in competitions, it's a wood so clear that could be disguised as white, he won that on a competition and it stays close to his heart. At the other's question, his big eyes goggled a little bit. Not of susprise, he was used to him asking random questions, but just because he wasn't expecting that one. Has he even thought of it for this one violin? His reaction was to shake his head a few times, scratching the tattoo on his palm as he thought about this particular subject. "Not this one. My first one is named Fleur," he replied, laughing a little. Fleur because of his sister's Rose, it's the nickname he gave her long ago.
"No name? How sad," he remarked, shaking his head in mock sorrow at the violin despite his features carrying not a single trace of the emotion. Instead, he casually shook his cup, resettling the icy sludge within before taking a sip. Cold drink on cold lips. Cade especially liked rewarding himself with frozen sweet treats in the winter. When human lips and fingertips would turn blue from the onslaught of cold, he revelled in it. It was the same way with hot drinks right in the heat of summer, although he favoured this a little less. Heat never stayed with him. He was Death: cold and unfeeling and always a little strange.
"Name it Al," suggested the vampire, a smile at the corner of his lips at the hidden joke, and if Elliot asked, he resolved not to indulge. Al, for albino, of course, of course. "That way it won't get jealous that your first violin has a name." Cade tilted his head at the Brit. "You don't want that to happen, do you?"
He laughed a little bit, not knowing exactly what to add. He isn't a very creative one, the only thing he was able to name well were pets. Probably why he'd let child naming to her wife if they were ever to be parents. But he thinks the idea is sweet, even if they're not even ready for children at the moment. He's 25, anxious, awkward, probably a sucky dad now and she's 22, young, free and beautiful. Perhaps when they're on their 30's that would be a good time.
The name suggestion made him laugh once again. "That would remind me of Aladdin, that's a little bit too much Disney on me," which probably didn't make sense for the other, since he doesn't have the knowledge that Elliot in fact, works at Disney as a musician himself. "A Violin Hunger Games?" Sounded funny in his head. He's regretting a little for saying that outloud already. "I never caught your name?"
"..." Disney?!? That was quite possibly the most insulting reference he'd heard all week, and this was including being mistaken for a ghost just a few nights ago in the middle of the woods. Cade wasn't even sure he should dignify Elliot's assumption with a correction: was it even necessary? So he made a face instead, distaste lining his features for a moment before letting out a soft snort at the violinist's next comment. "Sure. Killer violins. Surely you've heard of it. They can get pretty gnarly when vengeful, you should be careful," he added with a confident little nod.
At the next question, Cade's usual sly smile returned to his lips. "No, you never did," he agreed, feeling mischievous and coy as he ended it at that. Why offer his name so soon? Elliot had nothing on him, nothing to barter for in exchange for his name - a made up name but a name, nonetheless - and Cade was fine with not knowing the other's name either. Not yet. He still wasn't done playing. "But I'll tell you this: it's definitely not Al."
His ability was off, so he mostly felt a little slower to understand the cues. He wasn't suspicious of the other guy and his face wasn't quite mysterious about his opinion of his comment. Usually his ability pops up in time of danger, or suspicious.of something, but he is't at the moment. "My wife is pretty strong," he said, nodding and this time he wasn't kidding at all.
He laughed, perhaps he was starting a friendship here and he isn`t good at starting them. He wasn`t good at talking or socialising, so he blinked a few times. "What is it then?"
Wife? Cade stared at the man for a moment, confusion evident upon his features. When did the subject of spouses come up? Or was this guy referring to his violin as his wife? The sad thing was, Cade knew quite a number of people who referred to inanimate objects as their other halves. Cars, wide-screen television sets, gadgets from phones to computers, even the occasional bed. Most of them, thankfully, were said in jest. If Cade himself ever made that same joke, his chosen spouse would undoubtedly be his favourite brand of sweet red, chilled and mixed into a pitcher of donor blood. There was simply nothing quite like it.
"... right."
Cade was just as lousy with friendships, and until now, refused to call any of his close acquaintances his friends. There was too much attachment involved with that word. Attachment he could not afford, not anymore, and not when everyone eventually left him one way or another.
No one ever stayed.
"Mm. What if I play Rumplestiltskin? Guess my name right, and ..." he paused, searching his brain for a fitting equivalent. There were no firstborn children at stake here, after all. "I'll stop bothering you with the crazy questions for two weeks."
He started to put his things together, violin to case, stand to a little book like device and pedals to its bag. He was so organised beforehand that putting it together and apart was a matter of a few minutes, sometimes seconds if he's in a hush. Cade had managed to get an actual laugh out of Elliot, his nerdy side coming to show when he did so. "You don't seem like the dark one, and you don't bother me," he said, honest words coming off his lips. If anything, Cade amused Elliot more than he'd expect.
"I don't?" Cade creased his features into a frown, disguising his mutual amusement. That was certainly a first. Most people were certainly bothered by his incessant questions, or unintentional stalking. Could he really help it that he was always naturally curious? Even when he knew the answer to something, Cade simply could not help but ask anyway, just to see what kind of answer he would get - would he be lied to or would he be given the truth? What reaction would he get along with their response? Few managed to bother him in return, although he certainly could name one or two and he most definitely wanted nothing to do with them. Why try to bother someone who bothered him too? There was no fun in that at all.
"Huh. Guess you're not like everyone else. It's your accent, isn't it?" He smirked. "I'm not telling you my name if I don't get anything out of it."
Elliot gestured for the other follow so he could put his things on the trunk of his car, his 1996 BMW was spotless and scratchless, which didn't match much because he probably would have angered one or two with his vicious driving. He laughed, nodding his head in agreement. "I can offer tea?"
The offer for tea nearly made him laugh. Hadn't he been offered tea (of sorts) in exchange for something not too long ago? Cade idly wondered if there was something about him that screamed tea connoseiur, and especially right at this moment, with his half-finished cup of iced coffee in his hands. It made no real sense. He quirked an amused smile insead, easily following in the other's wake.
"What kind of tea? Does it have to be tea, though? Or is it a British thing and you're allergic to anything but tea?" He paused. "And crumpets. What are crumpets, anyway?"
Elliot never really thought about it much, he has loved tea ever since he was young and he wasn't sure if his household was just really into tea or his culture influenced the heavy drinking of such beverage in his household. Do they even drink that much tea? Perhaps the fact everyone else points it out to him makes him feel a little ethnocentric, everyone is weird but himself. At the questions, he shrugged a little bit. "What do you want? Crumpets are like little cakes." Talking about home makes his accent even heavier, even if he already sounds as English as he could be.
The vampire made a soft sound with his tongue, shaking his head slightly, eyes slanting briefly towards the Brit. "If I had to ask for something I want, that takes the fun out of everything, don't you think?" Besides, he thought to himself as he idly shook his cup - watching as the condensed little droplets on the outside dripped into each other, flinging off onto the ground in miniscule sprays - he wasn't a child or anything like one of his neighbours who leeched drinks and treats off complete strangers in exchange for things. A small, amused smile ticked the side of his lips at the thought, and he briefly wondered if it was still too early to start bothering said neighbour again.
"But," he continued after a moment, relenting with a small purse of his lips. "Little cakes sound like a pretty good idea, actually. I wouldn't be opposed to that."
"It's easier," he just shrugged towards the other male. Elliot isn't a man of many words. He's so socially awkward it's a little hard for him to actually be himself around new people, and Cade, even though they've seen each other a few times, still fell into that category. With the confirmation he gave about the cakes, tea, whatever they're having, he just gestured for the other to get in the car. It's old, but it's as clean as it could be. As soon as Elliot was settled in and buckled, he turned on the sound, it's pretty loud with Bon Jovi's 'It's My Life', and he proceeded to turn it down immediately. "Sorry."
To say the smaller man wasn't a man of many words would be quite the understatement, although it probably wasn't a fair judgement when placed next to Cade, an essentially eternal creature with endless questions and curiosities to be sated. Yet, so used Cade was to being the more vocal one in conversations that the thought didn't quite cross his mind. The lesser they talked, in fact, the more intriguing it made them, even if there could be absolutely nothing under the surface. No mystery there for him to unearth, no great secret to uncover. Nothing but another human being with nothing to offer him but a waste of a bit of his time.
Cade licked over his lips, tasting cream and flavoured syrup stains, and gave the violinist a cheeky look. "You know. I don't even know your name and you're asking me to get in your car for sweets." He leaned in, looking through the window on the passenger side instead of getting inside, and stifled his laugh as he put on his best look of innocence. 'This is where those annoying 12 year old comments can come in handy.' "What if I'm underaged, sir?"
Elliot only took a look on Cade's face, and then up and down. From the features of his face and the shape of his bones, he knew he wasn't 12 years old. Not to mention, Elliot himself looks like a mid schooler himself so he's not easily fooled on that matter, investigation ability on or not. He rolled down the the windows to reply. "If you're underage, so am I. But I'm a stable married 25 year old man. It's your choice," he said before cleaning his round glasses for a better look of the road. He isn't very happy that the fact his contacts expired. He looks like a great nerd.
The truth wasn't that Cade was wary of getting into a stranger's car out of fear. Fear had nothing to do with anything, and the last time he had felt real fear, it had been mostly in his head. This was a simple matter of preference. Why would he willingly put himself in a situation where he wasn't the one in control? Out on the square where he could fire off questions without concern, he was in his element. Getting into a stranger's car would shift the control over, and despite his enhanced senses and abilities, Cade hated the feeling of surrender, that someone else would be - quite aptly - in the driver's seat.
A small smile gently curved the corner of his lips, and he shook his head, making his choice. "You're right, it is. It would be a little troublesome for me if I got in. But listen. I may pay a visit to Café Loisl tomorrow evening. You can buy me a treat there if you still want my name."