An anxious farmer sits in the casino to cool her nerves and shrug off the feeling of dread that the flower dance brings her, but she may have found herself a partner after all.
Mr.Qi x Farmer
She/her pronouns
Nothing romantic yet, just some fluff
Light crying and depictions of social anxiety
Established friendships
No use of y/n, but no name stated either
It's a long one, comment if you want a part two ✨
Eccentric. That's what most would say about her, it was the kindest insult, the lightest jab, the most gentle ask for change. Nobody liked her, not really anyway, a recluse of sorts, bright purple boots stained with slime , bright pajama pants that you would swear changed color every time you looked away, a stupid graphic t-shirt with a fish on it, and her very odd but characteristic trash can lid hat. For the hick town that it is, a farmer in pelican town being described that way sounds... Ridiculous. A pelican town farmer, looking like that? Psh. That's what all the residents thought too, she could see it in their eyes, she had heard it from their own lips, Lewis would encourage her to be more like her grandfather and to that she would smile, trying to keep back her tears. Three years, soon to be four, of being a social outcast, it was better than working for Joja and at least she was close enough with some people now, but not many, Marnie was amazing. Smearing healthy globs of strawberry jam on her homemade bread had to be some of her fondest moments in pelican town. Caroline would also always bring over tea when she was sick, reminding her to take care of herself. She also loved having bonfires with Rasmodeus and Linus whenever they had the time, it was fun chatting with those as connected to the valley as she was. But even those memories can't starve off the one event she could never stomach, the flower dance.
It made her skin crawl, her legs shake, not even the serpants deep in the skull caverns could get her heart racing like the dance did. She would ask, every year. Why....? Desperation maybe, secretly hoping all the trash gifts she gave to the few kinder candidates would make them pitty her, but it was always lead with that gentle twist of the knife, furthering her reclusion. Her eyes fogged up with tears, obscuring and blurring the spinning lights, she rubbed her eyes best she could, the thought of tomorrow was horrifying, even the spoils of her labor wasn't enough to help her neveres. 'I could ask Marnie to dance, I’m sure she’d find humor in it' she thought, her fingers fumbling with her eyes, the lightest glimpse of purple in her sight. 'someone was bound to say yes at some point right?' her desperation was obvious, her hastily made coffees Harvey would smile through, her shitty sculptures of monsters for Leah, her awful slam poetry for Elliot... Penny was the closest she ever got to dating someone, but she only ever side eyes her, angry at the thought she'd never want kids. Star fruit.
Her eyes widened for a moment as she watched tumbling symbols fight for the right to be seen, her breath hitching. How she'd love to dance, even if she was born with two left feet, she'd watch the way the potential Bachelor steped forward, their baby blue back facing the world, only looking at her as the white fabric of her dress danced in the wind, the spirits sending along petals to flutter in the sky, a dance with nature and the love for it. Cherry. "Shit." She mumbled under her breath, her eyes pooling up with more tears. This wasn't going to fix anything, reality was flooding back to her as the adrenaline of gambling left her veins, the smell of all kinds of smokes and perfumes wafting through the air of the club and straight to her nose, making her cough a little. But if you could believe it through all the cacophony and over stimulation she could smell something sweet, it was almost like a gem berry, just a tad tart, it relaxed her mind, her eyes fluttering closed as she takes in another deep breath, huffing the air like it's a gift from Yoba themselves and soon she realized it was the only thing she smelled now. Her mind felt like it was lifted from it's haze, her thoughts drowning and sinking to the bottom of a glistening swimming pool.
"Hey, kid." His voice was soft and warm, contrast to the cold feeling that surrounded him,"it's getting late. I figure you should go home now, your drive is one I admire, but the slots are slogging your brain." she feels the tears that were suppressed suddenly roll down her face when she opened her eyes. there he was, leaning against the machine she was playing. He was another positive memory, though he's not a resident of pelican town, he's not a man from anywhere in particular but, he's... Well he's special. The afternoons with Marnie were amazing, but it was nothing like the praise he'd given her, the journey he had led her on, one to further that 'blossoming potential'. His coat hugs his knees and fluffy form like a tight dress, the black leather material sparkling with the poor stars he trapped within it, his hat was brimmed wide, his glasses a beautiful obsidian color that, in this instance, was shining a brilliant purple in the lowlights of the casino. Before she can respond he's got a hand at the side of her cheek, brushing away a tear with his blue calloused thumb,"shhh, relax. Tell me what's going on."
She pulled away a little, his hand quickly wrapping around his back, his expression not changing but the air is filled with a tinge of disappointment. "It's the dance tomorrow." She says looking down at her feet, giving off a shakey sigh and then continuing "I'm not gonna go tomorrow". Mr.qi is quick to tut, his face slowly turning to a grimace "don't look at me like that, please, not now" she rubs her eyes with her wrists paranoid at the few people looking at her, but Qi is quick to move in their way so she can't see them. "I'm not looking at you in any way, dear farmer. I'm just... disappointed others can't see greatness like I can". She keeps crying lightly and the more she does the more his stare bores into her, that knife twisting further into her chest, the people she knows are listening to her sobs helping the knife go in to the point it's at it's hilt. He leans down next to her slouched form, his hands shaking lightly "don't cry, shhh, relax." She goes to yell at him but when she opens her eyes she sees his face, his mouth slightly ajar, his brow thick with sweat, he was worried, visibley so. "I'm sorry" he shakes his head no and clasps her hands in his "crying is a reaction to stimulus, as is most any emotion or feeling. It's no less shameful then to laugh or smile"
"What the fuck kinda take is- pft haha" she laughs trying to process and decode the cryptic language he speaks, her shaky laugh bringing warmth to his cold features.
"There you go."
"Hm?" her eyes lid themselves, tears flooding her vision.
"You're laughing." his voice is matter of fact, trivial , like it always is.
"That's what I'm used to. Are you really not going to the dance tomorrow?"
"Why would it matter? No one ever dances with me and I already have the rare crow"
"That shouldn't matter, you should still attend"
"It does matter, you don't know what it's like looking someone in the eyes, someone you've known for three years and seeing them ... Glare at you... To reject and... Choose someone else over you" his hands tighten more against hers, his thumb lightly rubbing the veins on the back of her hand.
"Then ask someone you've known for two."
"Qi I don't- no one wants to dance with me."
"Who says that?"
"Everyone, have you been listening to me?" She looks angry and she is.
"That's not factual, you haven't asked me."
She scoffs lightly, pushing his hands off hers "Kay man." He stands, tipping the brim of his hat down "it's pronounced Qi" she angrily tries to suppress a laugh but she can't, Kay, key, que, quei, quaw, you name it, she read it every other way then how it was actually pronounced, and when she met him in person she was shocked to find out how badly she had mispronounced it. "You should rest. Don't forget my proposal, if you aren't up by 9am... expect me at your door."
"I hate you."
She can see him lightly smirk, his hand still rested on the brim of his hat "That's not factual, farmer." trivial, as always.
