Oh my beautiful liar...

[deepestindigo]

Despite the sub-freezing weather, there are still a few people out and about in Chicago.

There's a whore walking the streets of Chicago, but not for the reasons you'd think. A blue-haired demon who goes by Indigo Jones has spent the day shopping, and is in a pretty good mood. She's locked her bags in the trunk of her car, and now she's searching

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[der_weevilkonig]

Owen, coincidentally, has found a nice warm pub, which also happens to serve nice warm food. He's enjoying (for a certain value of enjoyment probably better rendered as "picking at") a burger and a pile of fries (chips, goddamnit) and... a glass of water

[deepestindigo]

Indy comes bounding in, her cigarette discarded on the way in, but still holding her Pixy Stick. A few moments with the bartender, and she's found herself a ridiculously fruity drink, which goes with her flavored sugar, and is scanning the room for anyone who looks interesting.

Her gaze alights on Owen. He looks unhappy, and while she's not working tonight, it's kind of sad to see some guy so miserable. Only one thing to be done about it.

"Here. Have some." And with that, she sets the fruity concoction in front of him, and steals one of his fries, chewing thoughtfully. "'Cause the thing is, most people, they come into a bar, they're there to drink. If they're not there to drink, they're there to eat, but you're not doing that, either. And you don't look like you're here to be social. So. Have some. Just a little to take the edge off."

She plops down in the seat across from him and grins brightly. No, Owen, she's not going away until you feel better.

[der_weevilkonig]

Owen startles. Random girls coming up to him is actually not that common an occurrence in his life, and the sort that sit down, steal his food, and then start psychoanalyzing him and offering him suspicious drinks... well, let's just say he's not sure it's not drugged.

"Maybe I'm here because it's fucking cold outside," he says. And then shakes himself out to what the beginning of this conversation was supposed to be. "I'm sorry, do I know you?"

[deepestindigo]

"Except you don't really look happy, you know? I mean, it's not like I expect you to talk about it, but you're just being on edge and not eating and... These are really good fries." She nabs another one.

"Also, you don't know me, I'm Indy. It's short for Indigo and not Indiana and that drink isn't going to bite you. Or maybe you think I poisoned it or something." She tilts her head slightly. "You could be that paranoid." She takes it back, takes a deep drink and follows it with green Pixy Stick, then sticks out a slightly green-stained tongue at him and winks.

Silly human. What would she have to gain by drugging him?

"Honestly, that's it." She shrugs, spreading her hands. "You seemed mopey, I brought alcohol. Does that not happen to you much?"

The thought that there are people who just don't get random offers of company or alcohol when they seem depressed just doesn't occur to her, apparently.