midnight.
hcjoon:
he pushes his chair back, its legs scraping against the floor, and stands up like he means to leave, holding the handle of his backpack in one hand and reaching for his laptop with the other. he means to leave, really he does, his brain tells him he can’t stand her for one more minute. but even as that thought crosses his mind, he doesn’t budge save for setting his backpack on the table, unzipping it slow. “what about a compromise – no reading tarot cards for our guests, and also, here’s a good idea, no ouija boards?” he suggests, as if its a compromise at all.
with season two on deck, they’ve been recording filler segments and a few special shows here and there, to get jowi used to the format and, she thinks, to make sure by the time they get on air joon can actually deal with her. it becomes clear to the girl immediately that joon wasn’t the most enthusiastic about hiring new help into his pet project, but now that she’s here jowi is determined to prove her worth. besides, what does he know? the pokecast was fun last season, sure, but it was also pretty dry in parts. battle statistics and odds read out endlessly, and it was clear joon loved the deep details because he’d get carried away, mired down in it on air until he started to bore his listeners. she has new ideas, fresh ones. weird, sure, and a little off beat, but the kind of thing that gets attention. listeners, brings in a little bit of fun. and besides, she can analyze a battle with a critical eye alongside the best of them, she just adds in the rest to soften the endless in between hours of speculation. its all just guessing anyway, why not add a little tarot, or a seance. something a little more eccentric? she’s in the middle of suggesting this as she watches joon’s eyes slowly glaze over, distracted and disinterested, and frankly jowi is offended. she didn’t ask to be contacted about the show, if he’d wanted to bring her in (which she suspects now he didn’t, really, so much as he did have to pick someone to keep sponsors happy) he should at least listen to her. instead, he starts zipping up his bag and she crosses her arms over her chest, purses her lips to blow purple strands from her eyes. “rude.” she accuses promptly, “that isn’t any kind of compromise and you know it. i’m not proposing we replace your entire show with paranormal explorations. you could really be more tolerant, you know.” she fights the urge to pout slightly, molars grinding together.
