It was no replacement for his baby grand, but the keyboard he’d just spent a sizable portion of his money on still delighted him. Rin just couldn’t wait to get it home and play it, so he’d opened it up right in the store despite the strange looks he got from the staff.
Balancing the keyboard in one hand, he played chords with another while he hummed and smiled to himself. His playing taking up all of his attention, it was really only inevitable that he walk straight into a pole, bumping his head.
“Ow...” he raised his hand to clutch at his sore head, dropping his brand new keyboard as he did so.
“Ah!” Rin shouted, clearly more distressed than he’d been by hurting his head. He picked up the keyboard immediately and hugged it to his chest. “I’m sorry! Please don’t be broken!”
@rockstarprosecutor liked for a Isolaween starter!
The Halloween party would be a perfect opportunity for Dahlia to meet new people and potentially know some new allies, maybe, if she was lucky enough. She would be careful like usual, but since she was dressed as a comic book villain, there was no need to put up her usual “sweet and innocent” facade. She could be a little more herself and she was glad for that. She wouldn’t be showing up her evil tendencies of course, but at least she could be more sincere.
She thought it would be a great way to approach people by talking about their costumes. She’d seen a lot of interesting costumes so far, but this guy’s white coat was quite unusual, so she decided to approach him and ask.
{🌸} - “That’s quite a unique costume. What are you dressing as? Some famous disco dancer or whatever?”
“Have you tried anything at this table?” Miriam grins from her seat at a table, gently prodding at a piece of roasted chicken with a serving fork. The food is all good, but Miriam’s enjoying the opportunity to relax and try different things. That, and the new faces are pretty nice.
“I can show you some of the good stuff. I used to eat a bunch of this at home, if you’re interested!”
@rockstarprosecutor oh shit is that a plotted starter i see
Archimedes.
Bloody hell, he's tired.
He was already on his way back home, walking through the streets in a leisurely tempo. It was rather late— well, correction, it was dark outside. At this point, who knows if this is not yet another way for the stars to mess around.
Regardless, he'd assume he'd be fine in a late hour as this, considering how the people still outside are minding their own business, presumably going home as well.
Except, there was one person that gripped Clive's attention already from the far.
A Juggler.
With Flames.
Inconveniently, they were at the side of the path, and the only way to avoid them would be to turn around and... find a """shortcut""", since that definitely worked last time.
Yeah no, Clive will have to go through this somehow.
Luckily the Juggler had only three burning sticks they're juggling with.
Merely the sight of it already left a tight feeling in Clive's chest, a knot weighing him down, heart running quicker— so he went to the absolute opposite side of the path, as far as possible, quickly hurrying away with his eyes shut. It'll be fine. It's fine. The fire isn't here; it's somewhere else, it's okay, you're fine, there's nothing, just walk away quickly, it's fine, it's f
— It's clear the Juggler had no ill intent and is good at what they're doing. However, their attempt of catching attention with a bold stunt, that might work well with others, was an awful idea for them to do now.
Clive had his eyes shut, but not a mere moment later after hearing the sound of unrestrained flames right above his head; they burst open as he fell on the ground.
Not all too far from his head was fire.
The Juggler has long stopped, now returning to the primary fire juggling while chuckling from a distance— but for Clive, the flames above him were still there, as he's sitting on the ground.
The roaring fire didn't disappear, and he felt surrounded— while, there's no actual fire anymore.
He's trembling, he's shaking, and it feels like he'll fall unconscious right about now, if he loses grip on the metaphorical thread— the knot was growing tighter, and telling himself to calm down just worsened everything.
Still frozen in place, it's getting hard to breathe.
