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Not today Justin

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@innocentcurse
wanted connections ☆ visage ☆ moodboards ☆ insights ☆ threads ☆ starters
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She gave him a look, one that Corey would understand, no words necessary. Somewhere between ‘oh, please’ and ‘don’t be so ridiculous’. While they weren’t as close as they once were, Fallon felt intertwined with him all the same. Maybe his luck with love hadn’t been the best, but her track record was full of strikes all the same. Anyone who had been lucky enough to know him would know how easy it was to love him. Fallon fell effortlessly. In some ways, it was even better now that they'd found themselves as friends instead of lovers. This was where they were always meant to end up.
It made her all the more curious as to who this special someone was. Copper was a name she'd remember; Fallon was good with names. "I sure hope so, I've gotta make a good impression," she replied, scrunching her features and letting out a hmph through her nose. A smile crept in moments later as it usually did when they were together. "You two should come by the diner sometime, I'll sneak ya'll some pie." Made by yours truly, but he would've already known that. Fallon hadn't spoken to many people about the boy who had consumed her since they met, yet she couldn't fight the words against her tongue. "I've kinda been seein' someone too," the blonde gave in sheepishly. "Would ya believe it?"
Corey caught that look with a quiet, embarrassed sort of smile, the kind that pulled at the corners of his mouth and made him glance down at his hands for a second, because of course Fallon would say so much without saying anything at all, and of course he’d feel it all the way through him. There’d always been something weirdly steadying about the way she looked at him, even back when things between them were- not necessarily more intimate, but simply different. Now it felt even warmer, safer, like they’d finally settled into the shape they were always meant to take, two people stitched together by history and affection and all the gentle things that had survived the messier ones.
"Trust me, you don’t need to worry about makin’ a good impression," he laughed, softly and sweetly, because the idea of Fallon failing at that was absurd, "Copper’s… he’s real golden-hearted, you know? He’s the kinda guy who just meets people where they are, like he doesn’t expect anything more than what you’ve got to give, and he appreciates every piece that you do give him. At least that was how it felt for me, which was a really nice change, you know? Either way, he’s gonna think you’re great." And Corey meant what he said. "You know I'll never turn down some pie, though," he added with a cheeky sort of chuckle.
The confession that slipped out of her with that sheepish tilt of her voice made Corey blink, surprised and then quickly, overwhelmingly delighted for her. "Wait, really?" he asked, eyes going soft in that way they always did when he felt something too deeply and tried not to show all of it at once. "Fallon! 'Course I’d believe it. Anyone with half a brain’d be lucky as hell to be seein’ you. But you need to get to spillin' the details before I absolutely combust waiting for 'em," again, Corey was laughing so happily.
For a heartbeat, Felix didn’t move.
Lucien stood in the doorway, frozen–his silhouette framed in the spill of hallway light. Something in his posture made the air in the room shift. Too still. Too silent. Felix’s grin wilted, confusion prickling across their skin. “...Lucien? If it’s the pizza delivery guy, I can get the tip, promise–” The teasing trailed off when they stood.
The hollow ache in their chest stirred–the same, awful familiarity that had been haunting them since they were a child. They crossed the small living room, taking slow, careful steps, until they could see the open doorway–and then froze.
“Oh,” they breathed. The air felt colder.
Standing outside, the same hair, eyes, same tired smile, was…Felix’s throat tightened. “Oh,” they said again, smaller this time. “Oh, no.”
They looked to Lucien, heart knocking at their ribs. “You… you see it too, right?” The newcomer smiled wider, like he understood. Like he liked being seen. Felix took a single step back, the air trembling around them. “That’s not me.” Their voice cracked, raw and certain. “Luce, that’s not me.”
Lucien couldn't explain just how he felt, nor had he ever felt something like this before. It was the most unsettling feeling that had come over him, washing over him like a physical wave, or perhaps hitting him like an intense burst of air. He couldn't even describe exactly how it felt to feel so intensely unsettled, but it felt as though it was seeping in through his skin, getting in deep, rattling his bones. It was a sensation Lucien had never felt before, and that scared him.
If the feeling wasn't enough to scare Lucien, Felix's response only further unsettled him. His eyes flickered from Felix to... Felix, and he was stuck in a stunned state of fear for a moment longer than he would have cared to admit. "I see it, I see it," he finally choked out, feeling his throat tighten out of dryness as he spoke. He tried to clear this throat, tried to shake the feeling off of him. What was happening?
"It's not..." Well of course it wasn't Felix, Felix was right next to him, but this other person looked so uncannily like them... "D'you have a twin, then?" He asked with a frightened chuckle, stepping back, trying his hardest to find logic that made sense of it all. But nothing could help him make sense of how it all made him feel.
Glancing at the book in the other's hands, Matilda smiled sheepishly, realizing that she had interrupted a good read. Ever since running from Olive, the book had not been a first, second, or last choice. A bunch of kids being tortured by some clown man? Absolutely not. Still, she had remembered in her other life, the one that felt just in her grasp of getting back, when she was able to read such books and not relate deeply to the terror. "Yup, exactly, I need to find newspaper articles, it's something I've never done before, so not even sure where to start, but hopefully I can figure it out."
How does one start to piece together what happened to the cult she escaped five years ago? It was something she never really came to terms with: the fact that she wasn't helping the world, but instead was just someone's pawn. Each time she thought about it, her anger flared. Doing her best to push that feeling aside, Matilda took a deep breath as if to burn out the fire that raged inside her chest. She'd been robbed of so many memories, moments with her daughter and the man she had planned to marry, and it made her irritable each time she remembered what could've been.
"I've only been in this library a few times, to be honest."
Elizabeth smiled. She wanted to help the other; she wasn't sure why exactly, but there was this kind aura radiating from her that Elizabeth often clung to when meeting others. This feeling had been proven wrong before, but Elizabeth had always tried to give people the benefit of the doubt, so she was optimistic. After all, what wrong could come from looking for newspaper archives?
"I used to come here a lot when I was little," she began as she started packing up her belongings, speaking softly. "I've still got some refamiliarising to do myself, I haven't been back in town for very long, but I think I can point you in the right direction. If you don't mind the help, of course, otherwise I think the librarian should be down that way," she pointed to the very back of the library.
closed starter for happy (@innocentcurse) located at happy's place
As much as Elle knew it wasn't necessary, they found themselves gravitating to the Kaneshiros as if they brought a sense of home they hadn't felt otherwise. They'd been on their own for years now, until them, the two that changed everything, now they couldn't stay away. Nights like this came frequently these days. After work, they'd both return to Happy's home and watch his daughter continue to grow up far too quickly over a meal cooked with their own two hands. It felt normal. A sensation she didn't know she'd ever feel again, fleeting from the days when life once was. She'd stumbled into what she didn't understand, but continued to actively ignore, the way he had her feel.
Elle sat cross-legged on the floor with Keiko, using the coffee table to stabilize her legs and familiarize herself with the feeling of standing up. "Maybe they have one of those child walkers, you know, with the wheels and the handle," they explained broadly. It wasn't their best, but whatever they might've said to clarify was silenced by Keiko's feet moving without anyone to keep her upright. "Happy," Elle started, rising to their knees and holding out a hand to grip the boy's sleeve in surprise. "She's doing it." Eyes welling with tears, they didn't even understand, a child not from their womb yet changing their life for the better every day. The little girl only got a few steps in before gravity took over, and she was humbled by a carpet crawl once again.
Life didn't feel right without Elle close by his side. She was a fundamental part of his life, and more than that, she was easily one of the best parts of his life, too. She provided him with irreplaceable joy, and on a less selfish note, Elle provided Keiko with a stable source of love, support, and presence. Each and every day, Happy felt so lucky that his daughter had that, even despite the struggles she was born into parent wise, amongst other things. He'd never force Elle to keep up their routine, but if it ever came to a stop, Happy speculated that his life would never be the same again.
It had been a long day at work that day, so truthfully, Happy was simply enjoying the act of relaxing with his two favourite people. His eyes were somewhat tired, his hair much messier than he had begun the day with, but he immediately perked back up the second that Elle reached out for him. "Oh my God," he gasped, though he spoke only at whisper - almost as if he was afraid of breaking her stride if he were to speak too loudly. Elle wasn't the only one with eyes filled with tears; his little girl was walking. "Oh my God," he repeated, his voice high and excitable, and louder this time now that Keiko had finally returned to her knees.
Standing up, Happy squatted beside his daughter, wrapping his arms around her in a big hug. "My clever girl! Look at you go! Look at her go, Elle!" He laughed so loudly, so loudly and so happily. "She's growing up so quickly, Elle," he looked up to his best friend, and finally, a tear slipped down his cheek.
"Exactly! I was doing her a favor" EJ declared emphatically. "As if. No one ever appreciates my input. And definitely not enough to get me a gift" EJ snorts, shaking his head. "Yeah, you think so?" EJ says looking down at the necklace in his hand appraisingly. "Hey, thanks. I appreciate the input."
"Never?" She pressed out of sheer curiosity. It wasn't a foreign concept to Jenny - unappreciative listeners and a lack of gifts - but if the other was as outspoken as he had given her the impression he was, then it was at least somewhat surprising to hear that he'd never been appreciated or rewarded for his thoughts. "It's real nice that you're still getting her something, then," Jenny shrugged. She'd encountered far too many unkind people in this world, particularly those who couldn't stand it when another had a differing opinion to them.
@cardinalstart.
Location: Cardinal Crystals
"What do you think? Is this a good way to say 'sorry I accidentally scared your boyfriend off by making him super uncomfortable during his first dinner with our family by talking in length about toxic masculinity and the rampant oversexualization that poisons the minds of most men in our society today that propagates the fragile male ego?" EJ asks holding up the dainty silver chain adorned with a small moon stone heart shaped charm. "It's for my sister" he adds.
All Jenny could do at first was stand there, blinking, trying her hardest to process what the other had said to her. It admittedly took her a second, but eventually the other's voice had caught up with her brain, and she smiled, chuckling softly at the first impression she had of the other. "I don't know, if pointing something like that out is enough to make him uncomfortable, I have a feeling you probably did the right thing in scaring him off. If anything, you should be getting a gift." Jenny was a person with strong opinions, however, so the conclusion that she had come to was admittedly a little drastic. After a beat, she properly inspected the item that he had picked out. "That's real cute, I like that. I'd definitely appreciate it, so if your sister has good taste, I'd trust your gut."
Location: On a hayride Starter for @innocentcurse
"Man does this thing have any more power? I feel like we're moving at a snail's pace," Luis complained as the hayride started and the driver launched into their story. Honestly Luis had been on a mission to do as much as possible this evening. His parents hadn't wanted any of their kids out at the Pumpkin Palooza but he wasn't going to let someone scare him out of enjoying one of his favorite times of year. Dressing up, all things spooky and magical, scary movies and stories. He lived for it and lived even more for all the potential pranks he could pull. But the hayride had proven to be pretty boring so far and he was wondering if anyone notice if he tried to make it a bit more exciting.
He glanced around to see if anyone was looking before he pressed his hand to the side of the wagon attached to the tractor and tried to focus. What he had wanted to do was speed it up but instead he had caused it to shake a bit and the ride felt more like a rollercoaster before it came to a stop. He felt his cheeks flush but tried to look innocent as the driver looked them over before putting the tractor in drive again. "Well I guess that was kind of exciting," he admitted, glancing at the person across from him. "Don't you think this would be more fun if we were racing another hayride?"
Elizabeth wasn't necessarily a thrill seeker - in fact, she could very easily be considered quite the opposite, and with great accuracy, too. She had every intention to try to leave her comfort zone more often in an attempt to better herself, however, and that was exactly why she found herself at the fall time event - even though it had admittedly taken her a lot longer than usual to muster up the courage for it, considering how strange and scary things had been in Cardinal Hill as of late...
The snail pace of the hayride was a comfortable pace for Elizabeth, but she couldn't deny the humour in watching the other impatiently try to speed things up - at least, she could only assume that that was what he was doing, considering the strong feeling of magic radiating from somewhere or someone so close. She held on tight as they began to shake, nerves bubbling inside of her as she worried about whether or not it would get worse, whether or not it might even go sorely wrong; it wouldn't have been the first time that Elizabeth had seen magic go awry, after all. Thankfully, it didn't escalate, and Elizabeth's reaction truly surprised herself; she laughed.
"I don't know, I'm not exactly the type of girl who gets all caught up in something as thrilling as a hayride race." The sentence was so bizarre, she had to laugh again. "Are you used to faster rides than this, then?" She questioned finally loosening her grip as she had only then realised that she was still holding on tight, white knuckled.
Open starter: @cardinalstart
Location: Town Square
Event #4: Pumpkin Palooza
Live music, good food, and fun games is what Joey was expecting to experience at Pumpkin Palooza. He had heard a lot about the event from just about everyone in time since he settled some months ago, how well it went last year, what people are excited for this year, and a lot of worries about whether or not it would even run. Since it was revealed that it would run, Joey had been thinking about it constantly, talking about it on HexWave so much people have been complaining. And he's been having a whale of a time, but the one place he wasn't expecting to spend so much time at during the event was the first aid tent.
Pumpkin carving and pumpkin painting were two seperate events, however Joey's experience with pumpkin carving included an unintentional dash of painting when blood started spurting from the deep cut on his thumb he accidentally gave himself after misjudging the density of a certain section of pumpkin. It was quite a scene, a lady passed out, Joey nearly passed out too, but that was mainly from the bloodloss. In the middle of the chaos, he was able to cast a spell on his hand removing the life-threatening aspect of such a cut, making a sliced artery just a near miss. The spell hurt more than the original cut, but at least he got to lay in the first-aid tent, hand wrapped in gauze, while the medics discussed simultaneously whether or not he should go the hospital, and what their dinner plans are.
It was actually a better vibe than Joey expected, he could hear the live music humming away at a nice level and he got a free cookie to help with his sugar levels. He responsibly denied any of the strong pain killers they offered, much to his, and his hand's, chagrin. It was starting to get pretty boring though, at least until Joey turned his head to the side, seeing a fellow cell mate getting sat down on a cot next to his, another topic for the medics to discuss. "Whatcha in for?" Joey asked, sitting up, giving himself a strong kick of vertigo that made him lay straight back down.
The Pumpkin Palooza was meant to be an escape from all of Johanna's problems, at least, she had so desperately hoped that that would be the case. Upon hearing confirmation that the event would go ahead contrary to town speculation, she felt a hopeful sort of excitement that maybe things would start looking up; the feeling of being back in the small town community was so nice, particularly as someone who was starting a new life in what felt like the most dramatic way possible - with a baby on the way - but if the town was equally struggling, Johanna felt as though she was screwed.
The morning had actually started out so pleasantly, but before she knew it, she was having a dizzy spell - her newest pregnancy symptom - and it was enough to almost send her tumbling over in an overly dramatic and totally embarrassing sort of way. She was more embarrassed than she was concerned - she hadn't actually fallen over, after all - but it was still more than enough for her to seek out the medics and the medical tent for a moment of recovery.
A sigh of relief sounded throughout the medical tent as soon as Johanna was off of her unstable feet. She thanked all of the medics who had helped her along the way, and she opened the water bottle that they had provided her with to take a much needed sip of water now that she was somewhere safe and sturdy. She hadn't expected the other person to start making conversation, but it wasn't unwelcome. "Junior here decided to take all of my balance from me," she explained, patting her stomach to make it more obvious who Junior was. "Nothing exciting, I just overestimated my abilities here, I think. What about you?"
"Perfect? Now let's not set such a low bar for perfection," he teased but he was blushing a bit at her words. It was nice to know his company was welcome. He grabbed his own coffee and sat back as he listened to her. Xander had been thinking a lot of the same since the Carnival, even more after his conversation with Felix. As wild as it felt to believe that magic was real, it made a lot of things start to make sense if you did. Xander had started to think about a lot of his experience in Cardinal Hill these past three years and there was a lot he couldn't explain. Far before things started going wrong. But what he hadn't quite figured out was why everything felt so secretive. He had to figure that the number of witches in this town outnumbered everyone else so why were things were the way they were? So far he didn't really have an answer yet.
"Xand?" He let out a soft laugh but a more contemplative look appeared on his face soon after. "I think there is something more to it. Not to sound like one of those people who wear tinfoil hats and stuff but I think there might be something else going on. Something...beyond our control," he started softly, looking her over to see if she was agreeing or if he was freaking her out more. Xander didn't think there was any way for him to just know someone was a witch, especially since his best friend was one and Xander had been totally oblivious. He sipped his coffee a few times, trying to figure out how to say what he wanted to say. "Louise..." he stopped then started again. "Do you believe that people could yanno, have certain...abilities? Like not just talents you know like..." he cleared his throat and met her eyes. "Do you get what I'm saying?"
Louise had always been hesitant to speak about witchcraft, and particularly about her identity as a witch, but that was mostly fuelled by her insecurities. If she didn't definitively know whether or not she was speaking to a fellow witch, she didn't want to say anything that might make them see her in a different light - at least not in a negative way, at least. She'd definitely let people in on her secret to impress them in the past, but that had only been with people who already knew about witchcraft, and that had only been after they explicitly expressed being impressed by people with the sort of powers that she had. It was all very centred around her self, whether or not she spoke about it, though she knew that others hid the truth out of fear of a much bigger threat than simply not scoring a date or being liked.
She had no idea whether or not Xander knew anything about magic, but her heart dropped into what felt like the soles of her shoes the second that he began speaking about people with certain abilities. She watched him closely, trying to not give away too much. He couldn't not be talking about witches... had he felt the dark magic, too? He wasn't a fellow witch, was he? Louise didn't think that she had sensed any magic from him before, but not every witch was dripping in it... She felt so confused, but in an odd way, thinking about Xander being on the same track conspiracy wise had her feeling extraordinarily validated. "I think I get what you're saying," she started with a nod, her brown eyes wide and curious. "But I think I also want you to say more before I go saying anything that I shouldn't." She felt guilty asking this of him, but after what had happened, she couldn't help but to still feel scared.
Annette had a look that was a mixture of shock and joy, "Annie Junior? I think the last time someone called me Annie was my granddad about ten years ago." She shrugged, "I like it, I assume I am the namesake?" The thought of her saying that, unaware that Stoker was referencing another person was horrifying, but it was so unlikely in her mind that she paid it no mind. "I guess I have to win you Annie Junior now.
Annette strut over to the large podium with a bell adorning it, looking back over to Stoker sat on the bench. The hammer was heavy, it made herself doubt her ability in being able to win Annie Junior, but the sight of the bear on display reinvigorated her. She shot one more look over to Stoker before raising the hammer over her head. As it came crashing down, she didn't even get the see the puck shoot up as it came down, bell unrung. The carny said that it was close, she was officially a 'top dog' according to the named sections on the pole, but she was not the proud owner of a new little Annie Junior, and that meant neither was Stoker.
Annette was pretty disappointed, she hated losing anything, but moreso she hated to let down Stoker, so she just had to try again, hoping that they weren't looking over when she went for her second attempt. It wasn't any better, and her third was just plain worse. She probably could've gone for longer, but she only had large notes, and the carny conviniently didn't have any change to give her for it. With her head low, she made the walk of shame back over to the bench Stoker was sat upon. Completely empty handed.
"Naturally," Stoker confirmed, laughing. His head still pounded ever so slightly as he laughed, but he hoped that the painkillers he had taken prior to his arrival at the carnival would be kicking in more effectively any minute now. "No pressure, though," he added quickly, seeing the determined look in her eye and hating to think of how she might feel if she didn't succeed. It wouldn't be the end of the world, but no form of failure felt great, he knew.
Annette was so charming. Watching her give it her all had Stoker truly smiling, something that he had struggled to do ever since that night at the diner. It was a much needed break, and a much awaited feeling of relief to know that he could still experience the more positive human emotions, even after everything he had been through as of late. To be completely honest, Stoker was so focused on the fact that he was having a nice moment, that he almost missed paying attention to Annette's attempt at the carnival game. Thankfully their thoughts didn't stray that far off track, however, and Stoker was able to put their entire focus on their friend again just after the first failed attempt.
"Don't worry about it." They immediately tried to console her. "You know all of these games are totally rigged, right? They don't want to let you win, they want to make you keep paying for another go until they finally make it easy or realistic enough for you to win. Otherwise people would learn how to get it every time, and they'd be totally bankrupt in a week." They hushed their voice down to a gentle, quiet tone, not only as that was their typical voice when conspiring, but because they didn't feel braced enough for any sort of conflict if a carnie heard him.
When he heard Dove's reply, Davis paused for a moment before immediately laughing. Very quickly he caught himself, and he smiled, apologizing, "I'm sorry, I don't mean to laugh. I was just thinking about how you I talk so much, ao it's a good thing you're more of a listening." He beamed at Dove, so amused, though he supposed it wasn't that funny. "It's okay if you're not much of a talker," Davis went on, patting Dove lightly on his upper arm. "With me, I can carry the conversation, so I'm your guy. Never met a silence I couldn't fill." That was definitely true, though there was probably more than one occasion where he maybe should have just let it lie.
Davis hadn't even been thinking when he grabbed Dove's hand - he was a toucher, so this felt like the most natural thing in the world to him. But he was aware of the fact that not everyone felt the same way, and when he heard Dove's reaction, Davis felt like maybe he shouldn't have done this. But he didn't want to just let go of Dove's hand like he'd been burned, so he waited a few seconds. Even though he had thought he wasn't going to apologize and thus bring attention to it, Davis felt his cheeks warm, and he decided he should. "Sorry," he apologized. "I'm sort of a touchy person. I'm a talker and a toucher." It hadn't escaped his notice that Dove didn't seem overly interested in playing DnD, and now that he'd given it his best, Davis decided he'd done enough on that front. "You don't have to of course," he told Dove, "I just like telling people about it. And it would be fun, but I know it's not everyone's thing. Still...you know where to find me if you decide to check it out. You could even just watch sometime if you wanted to."
Like Davis had told Dove, he was good at reading people, so he could tell that the other man wasn't too keen on talking about himself. So Davis didn't push it. Instead he did what he did best: he talked. Nodding, Davis answered, "I think so. When I was a kid, there weren't a lot of people who really listened to me. Mostly it was just my grandma. So I think I overcompensated by just talking a lot, even if people weren't listening." Of course, Davis wanted people to listen, and it made him feel validated when they did, like he was doing something worthwhile. This was another vestige of his lonely childhood, but he wasn't about to tell Dove that. Smiling at Dove, Davis said, "I bet people know that when they talk to you, you listen. Hearing and listening are two very different things, and I think you listen. I bet the people in your life appreciate that about you." Davis wasn't just being nice, he meant this. Smiling, Davis said, "I know we couldn't have been that far apart in age." He was beaming and wanted to pant Dove on the arm again, but he didn't want to make the man uncomfortable like he had before.
Dove gave a quiet little hum of laughter in return. "Well, that’s lucky for me then," he said. "I think I’d probably wither away if I had to carry a conversation on my own." He didn’t mean it to sound as sincere as it did, but he supposed that was the risk of talking to someone like Davis, someone who made it hard to stay entirely on guard in every single way. There was a charm to Davis, something genuine that put a person at ease even if they didn’t know how to be.
He noticed the hesitation in the other’s movements, the way Davis lingered before pulling away, and Dove immediately felt a pang of guilt. He hadn’t meant to make him second-guess himself. "It’s okay," he said quickly, soft and a bit sheepish, as though he wanted to make up for it somehow. "You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just... not much of a toucher either, I guess. Not really my first instinct. But you’re fine." And he meant it, too. The apology wasn’t necessary; if anything, Dove thought it was kind of sweet that Davis had even thought to give one. "Talker and a toucher," he echoed with a small grin. "Maybe I could learn a thing or two from you." Dove knew that his life in Cardinal Hill was extraordinarily different from the one he had escaped from, and he hoped that he could grow more comfortable in it.
He listened closely when Davis went on, the kind of listening that was silent but focused, where Dove’s gaze stayed steady but soft, flicking briefly to the other’s hands before back to his face. "That makes sense. I think we all sort of make up for what we didn’t have as kids, one way or another." He hadn’t meant to sound quite so knowing, but there was a grain of truth there that slipped past the part of him that usually kept things locked away. All he could do was hope that he hadn't accidentally invited too much prying in, though he also suspected that Davis would mean no harm if he did pry a little. "I don’t know about people appreciating it, I suppose my sister probably does, but I haven't actually asked her, you know?"
When he heard Lucien's reply, Davis broke into a wide grin - this was exactly how he felt. "I knew you'd get it!" he exclaimed happily. "There is no limit to the amount of dice you can have. The only limit is how much space you have in your dice bag, but then you just get another bag." That was the way Davis saw it at least. "Important question for you, Luc," Davis went on. "When you play, do you always use all dice from the same set? Or do you mix and match?" Davis himself usually did the former because he liked the way it looked when all the same dice were together. He continued listening to Lucien, just smiling because yeah, this was one of the man reasons they were friends. Lucien just got it. "You're exactly right," Davis told the other. "Like some days you might grab a set out of your bag and just feel like, 'No, not these today.' And usually you're right. Once I grabbed a set and was going to use it, but it just felt like not the right day. I kept feeling drawn to my rainbow set, and not because, you know, I'm not straight, though that was part of why I bought them. So I put my maroon set away and grabbed the rainbow set, and I rolled three 20s that day. Three, Lucien. And I never rolled anything under 14. That was the day I ended up with enough money to fund our entire expedition. We had such good weapons, Luc." Davis laughed at the memory; that had been a fun campaign.
When Lucien clarified, Davis put his hand on his chest, breathing a sigh of relief. "Phew, okay, good!" he exclaimed. "I was already wondering what I was going to do if I couldn't come by on my lunch break sometimes." Davis didn't do that every day, but when their lunches aligned, it was nice to spend some time with his friend. "I guess I could still do that if you quit, but it's just so convenient now," Davis remarked. Smiling at the other, Davis asked, "Do you want to go have Christmas now? There is no limit to how much I can use my employee discount...or if there is, I don't know about it." Given that he had worked there for years, Davis felt reasonably certain that the owner hadn't just forgotten to tell him. "So what do you say? Are you free to hang out?" Davis hoped so; he wasn't ready to just go home yet. His grandparents were out of town, and it got lonely there sometimes. The estate was huge, and even though he mostly stayed in the guest house, it still felt isolating when he was the only one on the property. That was when an idea came to him. "Hey, afterwards, do you want to come to my place?" Davis asked Lucien.
Lucien laughed, the rush of camaraderie warming through him at Davis’ enthusiasm. "Exactly! That’s what I’m saying, man. You always need another bag. Or a tin, or a box, or whatever you can find that fits. The moment you start having to leave sets behind because you’re out of room is when you know you’ve made it." He grinned, nodding like that was some universal truth worth preaching. "I usually try to match my sets, yeah. Not every time, but I like the look of a full set that just goes together, you know? Sometimes I’ll mix 'em for theme or colour if I’m feeling chaotic that day, but I’ve got one set that’s like non-negotiable. That’s my lucky one. If things get bad enough, they come out."
He couldn’t help smiling wider as Davis told the story, that kind of grin that built without trying because the other’s excitement was catching. Even if he wasn't always as talkative as the other, Lucien fed off of Davis' energy. "Three twenties? That’s insane. I think I’d retire my dice after that, just frame them or something. Go out on a high note," he joked, laughing softly. "I swear, that’s proof right there that dice have moods, personalities, even. Like they wake up and decide whether or not they’re on your side that day. You’ve got to listen to 'em, or they’ll punish you for it." He gave a small, knowing shake of his head. "Rainbow dice, man. That’s fate rewarding good taste." Lucien, a fellow bisexual, couldn't not praise the fact.
When Davis clutched his chest in relief, Lucien let out another chuckle, shaking his head. "Yeah, don’t worry, you’re not losing your lunchtime hangout spot anytime soon." He chuckled, and again even louder at Davis' next words. "I've never been too into Christmas, but I think I could get behind it more enthusiastically if it's more like this. Let’s go blow that discount to hell." He was already reaching for his jacket. "Yeah, I'm in." As he didn't have band practice, and hadn't been able to wrangle Alma for another hang out as of late, Lucien's schedule was all Davis' that day.
Felix gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest. “You’d willingly test it? What a noble sacrifice,” he said with mock seriousness, though his eyes sparkled with delight. “Facing the unknown for the thrill of the ride. I’ll make sure your bravery is remembered in the archives. Or, you know, one of those little photo strips.”
He glanced around again, the colorful chaos of the carnival casting warm light over his face. “What do you say, Ferris wheel?” he offered, tilting his head toward it. “We can people-watch from the top. You, me, and a suspiciously sticky bench seat.” He bumped Lucien’s arm again, softer this time.
He turned then, leading the way with a confident little bounce in his step. “If nothing bad happens, we can try something scarier. I doubt there’s a brain collector or something around here. Hopefully.” Felix laughed again, shrugging. “I suppose you can never be too sure, there might be some wolves in sheep’s clothing tonight, really.”
"You know, I've often been called noble, actually. I think it fits me, fits well, too." Lucien was of course, only joking. He didn't necessarily possess fine personal qualities or high moral principles, and he certainly wasn't born into any fancy title, either. But that was what made it so funny to Lucien, the vast contrast between himself and the descriptor of 'noble'. He assumed it wasn't a comment made to think about as much as he had, but he didn't pick and choose what he thought about, he supposed.
"Well I could give or take the sticky bench, but some people watching from up top definitely sounds appealing to me." Lucien loved to people watch, and the thought of doing so from up high made him feel like a creature out of one of his campaigns, such as an imp, or something of the likes.
A wide, amused smile spread across Lucien's face. "You know, actually, a carnival setting for a campaign would be sick. Plenty of room for shenanigans, be it brain collectors or some other type. Won't give away all my secrets just yet," he laughed. He couldn't have ever known the horrors that would occur later on in their very real life carnival, horrors that would certainly put a damper on the idea for Lucien, but none of that was known to Lucien as of yet.
Davis was still feeling so relieved that Lucien didn't think it was strange that Davis had bought him then dice. The truth was that he thought a lot about what people thought about him, and he hated that. His entire life, Davis had wanted people to like him, had worked hard at that, and it never felt like enough. If anything, Davis always expected to do something that would put them off, that would make them not want to be around him; that was something Davis felt he had done his entire life. So Lucien liking the dice and the fact that Dacis bought them for him was such a relief. "I'm so glad you like them," Davis rpelied, still beaming. "DnD dice are so important I think," he went on. "I have like...11 different sets I think? My dice bag is getting so full, so I might have too many...or just need a bigger bag." Davis laughed before continuing, "Anyway, sometimes a pair just doesn't feel right for that particular day, you know? About a month ago, I was going to use my white set, but when I picked up the d20, it just didn't feel right. It was like I knew I'd be rolling low the whole night. So I switched to this green and blue set I have, and the first time I rolled, I got a 20, and I didn't roll anything lower than a 13 the entire night. So I'm glad I went with my gut." Davis had sort of wondered if this had been an unintentional manifestation of his powers, not that he nurtured them or anything. But he didn't say that to Lucien.
Smiling softly, Davis felt a little sad as he replied, "It's okay, I sort of am. I just...I like people, and I want them to like me too. I think that's why I talk so much. I just go on and on because I want to say something interesting that people actually want to hear, and then I end up just talking their ear off. Gram says I don't even come up for air." His grandmother had meant that in an endearing way, but it hadn't made Davis feel good. There was more he wanted to say, but Davis stopped himself, feeling he'd already gone on too much. "Really?" he asked when Lucien agreed, beaming again. "That's awesome! I think you're going to like everything you see. And don't worry, I'll let you use my employee discount." Davis didn't know if this was truly allowed - it felt a bit like a moral gray area - but there wouldn't be anyone at the store who would care. "Last paycheck, as in like last, or just the last one so far?" Davis asked, hoping it was the latter, though he supposed if Lucien had quit or gotten fired, he wouldn't be here right now. "Awesome, that sounds great! I'll wait."
Once Lucien was done, Davis clapped his hands together and said, "Okay! Let's do this." He led Lucien down the sidewalk to the nearby store, pushing the door open. "It's like being a kid on Christmas morning, isn't it?" he said as he looked around the shop; Davis still felt that way despite being a regular here for 13 years. "What should we look at first?"
"There's literally no such thing as too many dice, Davis." Lucien figured that if you had the space for it, and if it wasn't like you were spending your food money on dice and making those kinds of bad decisions, you shouldn't be afraid of collecting something like dice. "You need options, you're totally right. Not only is it a matter of something not feeling right on a particular day, but I literally think that some sets are luckier on some days compared to others. Or in some situations. I swap my dice all the time. Not only do I want them to match thematically as much as I can, but sometimes if they're just letting me down I give 'em a time out."
He smiled at Davis' comment about not even coming up for air. It was kind of true, Lucien wasn't the kind to lie about that, but he still didn't think that his friend was wrong in any way. They had enough shared interests that Davis usually spoke of things that Lucien cared about, or else wanted to hear. It really wasn't a problem for him, especially as someone who didn't shy away from talking someone's ear off himself. Not that Lucien was quite as chatty.
"Oh, no, not last last pay check. Just the latest. Sorry man, didn't mean to scare you there," he chuckled. Thankfully, Lucien felt pretty secure and stable in his job, and that was handy when he was working at a place where he desperately needed the discount.
He was all too glad to the the Theatre of the Mind discount, too, because of his friend. That was one perk of small town living, one perk to not yet making it big and getting out of there - though he supposed he could swindle some discounts no matter where he went if he was a well known musician. "Better than Christmas," he remarked.
As he listened to Louise continue on about how handsome he was, Davis blushed, his cheeks burning. Surely she was just being nice, right? Lou couldn’t actually feel that way, could she? But when he looked at his friend, Davis could see the sincerity of her words. It was clear she was being totally genuine, which just made Davis’s cheeks burn more brightly. “Top five?” he repeated skeptically. Now that had to just be Louise being nice. Davis could accept that maybe some people thought he was hot, but not top five worthy. There was something else that Lou said that stuck out to Davis though, that made him smile. “Of all the things you said, my favorite was you calling me a decent person,” he told her honestly. “That’s something I try really hard to do, so it means a lot that you think that.”
Louise was full of complimentary things to say today, and it was making Davis feel better. “So you’re saying our other coworkers don’t spend the entire shift talking?” he asked facetiously, but then he paused as he considered this. “You know, I never really thought about it, but a lot of our coworkers seem to do more listening than talking. But that could be because I monopolize the conversation. I mean, the other day I spent three hours talking about various aquatic creatures, mostly sea horses and orca whales. I didn’t even realize how long it had been until I looked at the clock. By that point, my throat was more than a little dry.” Davis laughed as he said this, but it was true; this was a common occurrence with him. He smiled at Louise, touched by her words. “Thanks Lou,” Davis said. “You’re always so nice to met. Not everyone has been. I mean the people at the gym and the pool are, but a lot of other places I feel like no one wants to hear me talk, which is challenging for a guy who talks a lot.
It was pool time now, and Davis hurried to close up the shop (but not rushing through it of course - he took his job seriously). And once all of that was done, he gathered his things and found Louise. “I’m glad I had my swimsuit in my gym bag in my car,” Davis said as he approached Louise. “You have yours, right? And do you want me to drive?” Davis loved his car, a BMW his grandparents got him when he graduated college. Really Davis knew it was a fancy, expensive car, but that wasn’t why he liked it. Mostly he just liked it because his grandparents had chosen it for him. Not everyone in his past had shown Davis they cared, so when people like his grandparents or Lou did, it meant a lot.
"Well it definitely shows." Louise wasn't going to eat up all of Davis' time by reassuring him that he was a decent person, feeling like to go on would be overkill, and feeling like overkill would have Davis believing in the exact opposite, but he truly was a decent person. In every way, shape, and form that Louise had been able to observe thus far. "There are more than a few people in town who are quite the opposite, too, so it's something I try to notice before I get hurt." Her mind immediately flashed to a vision of Jules, that bastard.
"Oh but that's so fascinating!" Louise perked up a little at the mention of orcas. They were easily one of her favourite animals, and she thought that they were wildly misunderstood in a way that made her heart positively ache. "Some people love listening. I wouldn't be too afraid of talking. You'll find your people, your listeners. Maybe not everyone will love it, but most people won't hate it, you know?" She thought about it for another beat. "I think a small town is a great place to find people who love to just sit back and listen."
"Of course I have my suit. It's summer, I don't go anywhere without it in summer," she laughed as she explained. "I've got it in my bag. Sometimes I even wear it under my uniform - or whatever I'm wearing - but it's a new bikini that I didn't want to get all wrinkled and worn before I could show it off. It's cute, you'll like it." Louise was a total opportunist; of course she was well prepared.