BANG!

“Hm. And I’m sure it’ll be a fine funeral.” He was absolutely mocking one of them, though mostly himself. There was more he could have said, and maybe should have, because it wasn’t asking anything too revealing, but it still felt like cracking a door he didn’t want opened.  

There was a brighter smile when they got soppy on him, because it was something he found fully relatable. If only for his own reasons, but the Asphodel chapter of Endine looked entirely different from the one in New York, like all of its castoffs had found some better home here. And he didn’t think what he’d been looking for was all that different, a better family than the one he’d been born into. 

“Well, we’re happy to have you,” he said. “Were your parents gifted? I don’t think I ever asked.” The comment alone would imply not, but then, maybe just not gifted in the same ways. Either way, he said it as casually as he could, and while it was hard to imagine Osun getting offended by a question alone, he didn’t want to start opening old wounds. 

The enthusiasm was an almost infectious thing, even if all that pomp and ceremony had been more work for him than fun. At least, everything but the flowers gifted to him by the one in front of him. “You do look lovely, by the way. Very festive.” 

That gets a hearty laugh from Osun. It’s an important life skill to have—the ability to laugh at your self. A fine funeral that Osun does not ever want to see. A dark thought sure, but if your mind will gladly rattle along any odd thought it’ll go down darker paths eventually. 

Osun smiles, close-lipped, a warmer smile compared to their usual bright flashy grins. It’s nice to feel wanted, but just as nice to hear it so plainly stated. 

“No, they aren’t,” Osun replies simple and to the point, “I was a surprise in many ways.” That’s enough for Monty to know Osun is finished with this particular topic. It’s a festival, Osun doesn’t want to drag down the mood with family drama. Even if Osun kind of brought it up, but still. Small doses, he can put the pieces together.

A sudden thought occurred to Dom as they walk towards the stall - they put Sentinels on Athena and Irene specifically, but he had yet to meet whoever they assigned to him. Perhaps they thought he could take care of himself if a fight broke out, but the fact that Osun was the one who was accompanying him now…as the PR officer of Endine…

“Did they put you on babysitting duty?” He jerked to a halt, abruptly, before realizing that for once he did not want to cause a scene. Dom seemed to almost curl into himself, lowering his voice as he continued to speak. “Not that it matters, really.” He muttered in the next breath, knowing his behavior in the past didn’t exactly give Athena or Monty any assurance that he could act well or responsibly in social events such as this. 

“So, plants?” He spoke in a desperate bid to change topics, focusing his entire attention on a plant, letting his fingers trace the pink splash of color on its leaves. “This one looks nice.” He suspected Dev would actually like this one. Hopefully that was enough to distract Osun from his earlier reaction. 

  Osun can’t help the small peel of laughter when Dom stops so abruptly and asks as thought it were an awful suggestion. They shake their head before getting the words out. Dom says it doesn’t matter but Osun knows it does. It can be insulting, albeit necessary. Especially someone like Dom who’s a hard nut to crack. Dom makes a very pointed effort to switch topic to the plants. Osun would usually follow the other conversation partner’s lead and not stick to the heavy stuff. But, alas, it’d be unkind in Osun’s eyes.

 “Firstly, I’m glad to hear it wouldn’t matter,” Osun begins but does turn serious to finish their explanation, “But no, I like to wander around and check-in on everyone in Endine during these big events. They’re a lot to take and frankly, if you’re not as hyperactive as I am I know they can be overwhelming.”

Wheuw. That was a couple of serious sentences and sentiment to match. Yes, Osun is perfectly capable of it, but outside of work, they like to steer away from it. Even if... being a part Endine is technically work, they’re all still more of a family to Osun. 

Brody notices the way Osun calls Sam his friend. With a certain disdain to the word and there’s relief at least that they’re not truly holding it against him. Still highly amused by it all and he can’t wait to tell Sam just what kind of ridiculous feud she’s put him in the middle of. And while he didn’t like to be on anyone’s bad side, there was a sense of loyalty in him. Sam had been his friend first. Even if Osun was considered one of his co-workers.

He snorts, despite it all, at Osun’s idea that they won’t be taking back their pastry any time soon. It’s a good thing, too, because he was still munching away on it. If there was good sense in him, he might have probed a little more, found out what had really happened between Sam, Osun and this mystery friend. But he honestly thought that might just make matters worse. 

“Hey, I take my role of bodyguard seriously. A promise is a promise,” he told Osun, finally removing his arm for theirs as they crossed beyond the immediate path of the Witches’ Brew. He goes quiet after that, not sure how far they plan to go, but he does turn around to walk backwards, facing Osun as he goes. “You know, at the risk of losing my pastry,: Sam’s prickly, kinda fighty, and most definitely foul mouthed, but she’s a decent person once you get through all that.” He holds his hands up afterwards. “And I don’t know what happened or particularly want to know what happened, but…you know, I like to think I’m a decent friend so I at least wanted to say that.” 

“Ugh. Gods. You’re too nice. Your pastry is safe, don’t worry,” Osun says, watching a little amused at the way he turns to walk backwards and speak to them. The annoyance at him is completely put on.

“I’m sure she’s a fine friend if you’re not a part of Endine,” Osun concedes to Brody’s kind words about her. He must be a good friend to have. Almost through sheer pettiness, Osun decides they’ll try to keep Brody as a friend. If only because that would piss Sam off. But, also, he enjoyed the pastry and jumped into bodyguard duty without questioning it. Osun needs more people like that in their life. Osun will have to find him another day at work, gift him a full pastry, no strings attached.

“If we could somehow get Sam to use her words, it may help her get further with whatever’s wrong and deal with it rather than —-” Osun finishes off with a sigh, defeated, because while it’s in their nature to easily and blindly hate people, they’ve learnt that sometimes the biggest assholes have some of the biggest issues. Whilst it doesn’t rid Osun of their strong disdain for her, it at least gives them a modicum of understanding that she’s only such a problem because she’s been slighted in some way. Sam’s behaviour is frankly selfish, in Osun’s eyes. They’ve got shit to deal with in their past but they don’t go around  assaulting people, causing whirlwinds and property damage.

“I promised I wouldn’t seek her out or stir the pot anymore so please don’t say anything to her or my friend will have my head.” Unless Sam gets to me first, they think but don’t say.

what luck indeed… his luck.  and perhaps the influence of enjoyment of the game had swerved the odds enough so that the coin rolled off the counter – just so.  it landed awkwardly in the dusty crevice – just so.  his fingers managed to find it – just so.

“maybe you’re the lucky one?  i mean, you lost the game but won the prize.”

maybe.  maybe not.  actually quite unlikely… luck tended to revolve around evan like an ever present swarm of bees.  sometimes it came up honey.  sometimes it stung you on the arse.

“then i’m sure they’ll be happy to be reunited with it.”

however, he’s almost sideswiped by the sudden enthusiasm for ‘non-magic’ magic.  and that in and of itself brings a genuine upturn to the corners of his mouth.  the hand not beneath theirs is held up - shown palm and back - apparently empty… a moment later he’s flipping a coin ( the same one as before ) between his fingers, seemingly plucked from thin air ( absolutely slight of hand and a well practiced one at that ).

“tricks.  not magic.  and…. only a couple.  a few coin tricks.  card tricks.  not quite enough to get onto the stage at vegas… i’m pretty sure the real magicians have that one covered.  i once saw an illusionist turn the entire audience into nicholas cage.  it was only for a few seconds but – that was pretty cool…”

“…if slightly weird.”

it’s really only at this point in the conversation that he realised he doesn’t know their name.  the words had been flowing easy breezy and entertaining so it hadn’t really cropped up.

“so if someone comes in while i’m investigating more bizarre cuisine looking for a bracelet - who should i tell them to look for?”

➼

Osun likes the way he turns it onto them, calls Osun the lucky one. They smile and preen, easily pleased by handsome strangers who are charming and flattering and more importantly: chatty. Nothing like a conversation that meanders and turns without either party losing track.

Osun thanks their lucky stars they woke up lazy today and came by to buy breakfast and save themselves the hassle of cooking. Osun props an arm up on the counter, holding their chin in their hand, watching the man with all the enthusiasm in the world. It may be nothing but a simple trick in his eyes, but Osun’s far more enticed by that than a Gifted ability.

“Your ‘little trick’ was far more interesting than a sea of Nick Cages. That just sounds like an Illusionist, which I can do, like, it’s boring if you’re born just able to do it? There’s no real skill to it.” Osun begins talking and doesn’t really mean to begin ranting slightly, “That just sounds like someone born maybe a... Significant or something who wanted to make easy money.”

They appreciated their gift, sure, but it brought them unwanted hardship and childhood trauma so... They’d take it or leave it honestly. The only upside to their gift is the fact they found a second family thanks to it in Endine. Their thoughts are turning positively maudlin so they shake it off. Much easier to do given the small ‘magic show’ or ‘trick’ he’d shown them.

“Oh, duh, I always forget. You’re just far too good company to interrupt with something as inane as introductions,” they hold their hand out, deciding to do a formal greeting for the sake of it,“Osun Bang. Who’s my morning companion?”

‘Everything about you just has to be contrary. Isn’t it exhausting?’ Is what Osun wants to say. What Osun wants to genuinely ask and get a genuine answer from. But she wouldn’t have that would she? Osun truly wants to spit some cutting barb her way but nothing seems to cut quite right with Sam. Even a kindness would feel like a slight against her. It really must be exhausting to go around constantly on guard, ready to fight. Like a an exposed nerve. Even when Osun was trying to state a simple fact—that Sam wasn’t good with her words—it was met with anger.  How else could they explain themselves? Not everyone’s good at everything, it’s all they meant.

Osun trots out on their least favourite rote phrases, it’s bound to do anything but placate Sam but Osun made a promise to avoid her. Best to get out of her hair fast, even if it means smiling and accepting defeat as they literally walk backwards away from Sam. “Let’s agree to disagree!”

𝒪𝓈𝓊𝓃 ➼ Pretty Boy Emil

UNSENT.

[[ FRI 18:54 ]] Emil, my dear, want to go for a drink? I need to bitch. Someone called me annoying at work today but, like, he was really rude about it and now I can’t stop thinking about it.  [[ FRI 19:00 ]] Serious Answers Only: Am I annoying? [[ FRI 19:10 ]] Do I annoy people? I know I can be a bit much but like... [[ FRI 19:15 ]] Do you actually like me? As a person, I mean. Am I a ‘likeable’ person? [[ FRI 19:16 ]] Every message I’ve tried to send has been so pathetic LOL

SENT.

𝒪𝓈𝓊𝓃 ➼ 𝖋𝖆𝖓𝖈𝖞 𝖇𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖉

UNSENT.

 [[ SUN 22:30 ]] My mom just told me she turned my old bedroom into a study.   [[ SUN 22:33 ]] I’m really not okay about it.  [[ SUN 23:00 ]] Hey, so, I know I never talk about them but   [[ SUN 23:05 ]] What is up My Dude. I want to ask you a serious Q about Families. [[ MON 00:05 ]] I kinda cried about it. The bedroom thing. I should probably explain the bedroom thing if I send this awsdfghKL;’DA 

SENT.

Though he’d brought up the conversation, he’s surprised with the answer that he’s rewarded with. Of course Osun thought this through in the single second it took for them to think about it. “I mean, Fuck off, Gio seemed to be acceptable enough for my next-door neighbor, but I appreciate you taking this survey seriously.” He’s perched on top of the railing outside the hospital where he met Osun during their break. The guard’s come by to scold him once, but if he breaks his neck, at least he knows the ER’s just a short trip away. “My friend texted that to me this morning and I haven’t stopped thinking about it. I mean, isn’t it a trick question, though? ‘cause think about it. Say you do marry Elmo and you kill Big Bird. That’s his friend, yo. And you’re gonna fuck Cookie Monster? That’s Elmo’s friend, too! You’re cheating on your husband with his friend! And any other way you put it, you just never win.” He shakes his head. “So yeah, that really fucked my morning up, and now I could really do with a free smoothie.” He looks at Osun though his lashes, swinging his long legs below the metal railing he’s sitting on.

➼

“Oh please. Elmo will never know I killed Big Bird and we’ll have an open marriage,” Osun answers without missing a beat, “How boring of you, Gio, to assume monogamy is the only path to happiness.”

Osun takes a sip of their coffee, smiling as Gio says how his morning was fucked up and that a free smoothie would save him. What an absolute cheapskate. Osun loves to oblige, though, anyone who asks fuck marry kill’s about puppets is someone worth the cost of a smoothie. “Fine!” they say as though it’s a big ordeal, “Hop on down, cherub, before you break that lovely neck of yours and I’ll buy you a smoothie. Now, tell me, did your friend who asked you this give an answer? I need to know if you’re hanging out with the right sort of folks.”

A litter of piglets barging past was cute. A little confusing, though, as Osun lifted up the ends of their dress, watching the filthy little porkers trot past. That got a laugh from them. It was the damned cow that nearly made Osun hit the deck, shit their pants, etc. etc. It was a calf, yes, but they’re big even for babies. Wild-eyed things that honestly Osun hadn’t really seen up close.  It’s a wild sort of fear that they must both be experiencing when the commotion builds and rather suddenly it’s bolting. Osun shouts. The cow moos.

Osun turns tail, bunching up their skirt in one hand, another firmly holding their hat tight onto their head. The ground near the animals is muddy, treacherous in Osun’s strappy sandals and long skirt. 

“I can’t die like this!” they wail, dramatically, running at an awkward pace as their shoes get stuck and they struggle to hold everything together. Then they see him, Ulysses, a vaguely familiar face around the hospital. He had volunteered for the first aid tent, like a true bleeding heart doctor-in-training.

“YOU! Take my hat! I need both hands!”

“Right, indulge me for a second, will you? I’m just trying to prove a point to someone.” He fixes the other with an earnest stare. “Fuck, marry kill: Elmo, Big Bird, Cookie Monster.”

➼

Osun thinks about it for a whole second before answering, “Marry Elmo, we’ll live a long happy platonic life together. He’s so enthusiastic and cute, I’d love a lil Elmo with me twenty-four/seven but I’m almost certain he’s a young child so I would marry him to protect him from other monsters. Kill Big Bird and have a massive roast dinner slash BBQ. Or both. Leftovers I’ll feed to the gators. Fuck Cookie Monster cause he can eat. Any other answer is questionable and wrong.”

✦

The fact that they stopped to think about it had him hiding a smile, though he wasn’t sure if he should be offended by it or not. He had his moments of awkwardness when it came to younger children, absolutely, and occasionally too much indulgence, because when someone asked why? he wanted to have an answer, but not awkward enough to throw one. 

Still, that indulgent trait carried over, allowing that smile on his lips when they did settle on an answer. “Sure,” he agreed. “That sounds like me.”

A slightly startled laugh was practically knocked out of him in the next moment when their elbow struck him. Uncertain whether that or the abrupt burst of excitement took him more off guard. “Ow,” he said, though with a complete lack of inflection.

“It was fine. It was a while ago.” He shrugged, the answer meaningless and nonspecific, but it was a habit he couldn’t quite shake, no matter how many people here had known him in New York. It still felt like everything about himself was better left in the past, including those details. A half remembered ceremony, a rare moment of pride on his father’s face. None of which had meant anything to him, everything from his childhood feeling faded and gray. 

“What did you love about it?” He asked, doing his best not to allow Osun time to press for better answers or ask more questions. “Didn’t it storm on the second day? That was your year, right?”

➼

“It was fine,” Osun mimics back, their version of pestering for more but not actually outright asking because of how swiftly he pushed past it, Osun can understand wanting to keep some things to oneself, “Christ, put you and Didi talking and it’d just be a long line of fines till one of you died.”

There’s barely a pause before Osun continues speaking with their usual energy, “It did storm but that just meant I could get my fun little umbrella out. And, well, not to get soppy on you—but I’m getting soppy on you—it was nice to join... join a family. Especially a family who didn’t think my Gift was weird.” 

They’re both so good at keeping to themselves in very different ways. Whereas Monty is a laconic man; Osun is a verbose person. Facts hidden in absence and facts hidden beneath excess. They’re a funny duo in that light. Still, Osun likes to hand over small tidbits of themselves to Monty, neatly packaged parcels that he could unpack if he wanted too, but there’s never any obligation too. Facts about themselves feel safe in Monty’s hands.

➼

“And how’s that going for you?” Emil asked with a slightly skeptical look, curious if Osun could keep their nose out of any business that interested them, especially if said business was so actively engaging. He wasn’t surprised, of course, to hear that Montgomery didn’t want them involved, and he was curious if the man wanted him involved either. But that choice was now no longer up to the doctor, because now he had a deal.

“Sounds fair,” he determined, always happy to take a favor over a more tangible reward. He considered Osun a friend, and likely someone he could ask to help him in a bind regardless, but he always preferred a quid pro quo when it was possible. “I’ll see if I can get her actual name for you at the least.” The offer was given offhandedly, though he knew it was an interesting piece of information to drop, something small in return for the agreement. The fact that ‘Sam’ was some sort of nickname was only lodged in his memory because when he’d carded her, she’d been pissed as all hell when he proceed to greet her by the name on her license. It was quickly corrected, the unneeded name forgotten, but the incident was memorable enough to offer as insight.

“You still haven’t regaled me with any good gossip about me,” he pestered, hearkening back to their earlier conversation. “I need to know who I’m supposedly sleeping with so I can decide how well things are going.” As they passed by a sign offering ‘magic and illusions’ outside a children’s mirror maze, he gestured to it as if the other might be interested, continuing their walk through the fair all the same. “Ooo, or any fresh takes on my mafia ties, I do always enjoy a good one of those now and again.”

➼

Emil gives them a knowing look. They can’t blame him. So they smile, a sickly sweet thing, “I haven’t seen her in days.”

Osun blinks at that, nearly literally stopping in their tracks. ‘Actual name’. With a burst of excitement, Osun lightly love-taps him (read: slaps his chest), “Oh my god! A fake name? How damn irritating! Yes, that would probably make life sooo much easier.” 

“Unfortunately, I haven’t heard any of your Mafia ties lately. Maybe I should start an absurd rumour around the hospital for you. I’ll... I can’t think of anything now but I’m sure a horses head will pop up somehow. Any-how. I heard—” a phrase Osun loves, it absolves them of any wrong-doing and any mistake in the words that follow, they tip their head to the side watch Emil closely “— that you, my handsome friend, was the reason Athena went missing during Mortensen’s party.”

“Very rude of you to not step up as her much-needed alibi,” Osun chides him, lovingly, and all part of the joke of course.

There’s a small snort of amusement at the thought of it. The idea of going on some gator feeding trip in the bayou only to talk telepathically with the animals in French. Osun there as a tour guide and Monty there as a translator and there’s something so ridiculous in all of it that he can’t help the smile that steals across his face. Something bright and genuine he doesn’t let slip out often, his head shaking afterwards like he’s almost embarrassed by it and he quickly tamps down on it, even if he can’t tell right away why. Maybe just out of habit. Maybe because it still didn’t feel right to do so when…

It’s a self reflection he doesn’t dwell on for long, taking a breath and looking across the table at Osun. It sounded like fun, he’d give them that. It sounded like a fun trip and maybe a little bit too ambitious yet. But if anyone could make it happen, it’d be Osun. 

“How long have you known Monty?” he wonders to them. 

➼

The clouds suddenly clear! Sun comes blasting down onto their table only! Let there be light! Okay. None of that happens but Didi laughs. A small snort, something louder and more upbeat than Osun’s had the pleasure of seeing. It feels like his laughter and smiles are something that must be given like precious gifts. Osun would love to help draw more out of him, if only for Didi’s sake. Although, selfishly, Osun simply loves to make others laugh.

“Just over two years, I was an older initiate too, actually. I sort of knew him briefly before joining Endine. I was an intern at Sacred Heart and of course made myself known to most people there,” Osun says, irritating or endearing was a personal opinion on that particular habit of the over-eager intern Osun, “Then I heard about Endine and pestered Athena for details.” 

It’s a short, sharp but sweet summary of Osun’s journey. Less words maybe suit Didi, but Osun has a feeling he sometimes wants to say more, simply doesn’t know what to say. Or isn’t comfortable. He’s a very complex fellow, perfect Endine material.

“And yes,” Osun adds very solemnly, “Over two years of friendship, and he still refuses to go see the babies.”

Admittedly, he hadn’t been prepared for the Louisiana heat. And the humidity. It’s almost made him consider throwing out his Versace suits for clothing that is more appropriate — designer doesn’t always mean breathable. (Though the suit jacket lying on the shore says otherwise. As if Theodore Clairmont would ever actually abandon his beloved Versace). 

Still, the cool water does wonders for his mood, and the setting sun adds just enough beauty to the scene that, if a director were to ever make a movie of his life (and he’s sure someday it will happen), this would the scene that wins the film an Academy Award for Best Cinematography. 

He’s so relaxed that it takes a second to register the albino gator that splashes him. 

But when he does, it’s pure survival instinct that keeps him threading water instead of forgetting how to float and sinking to the bottom of the lake. 

“Baby gator?” Teddy gasps, eyes wide, his mind already starting to sing the tune of Baby shark doo doo doo doo-doo. Except he blinks and the gator turns into a person, and absently he wonders if Balian had slipped some magical mushrooms into his morning coffee. “Baby… human?”

➼

“That is, frankly, the best reaction I could’ve expected,” Osun says with a peal of laughter. They flip over once more, this time to float on their back and speak to the stranger, “I was half afraid of getting smacked. I’m not Baby, as cute as that is.”

Osun has to paddle with one hand to not drift away from the stranger. It’s a bizarre reaction, Osun likes him already. He was an unfamiliar—and handsome— face amongst a gaggle of swimmers which were usually the same rotation of locals or small bursts of very apparent tourists.

“Baby Osun,” they hold a hand out to shake his in greeting. It’s not something Osun normally does, but something about shaking hands as they float on their back and this man treads water feels just right.

“mmhm”

just a nod and a small smile at their question.  ‘her maj’ was on all the coins, notes… and stamps.  probably one of the reasons liz never carried cash - it’d be a little weighty for those itty bitty purses… plus weird - money with your face on it?

evan remains quietly observant while the coin is tossed - landing in his favour, even though the rules were changed.  and then again while the third is flipped - letting his eyes fall as it rolls off beneath his chair.

“does it matter?  looks like we’re both trying the grits.”

a quick look up with a flash of a grin.  whatever the result - best two of three, the game was already won.  but he does slip off the stool and shifts it to one side - only the edge of the coin seeming to peek out - glinting but having slipped into a small gap at the base of the counter.  he can’t actually tell what side it’s landed - so he hunkers down and lets his fingertips move into the dark space… feeling something other than just the coin as he brushes past to retrieve it.

“heads.”

he says - just to sate their curiosity.  three of three - popping the coin back onto the counter… but now his own curiosity is piqued by the other object he can feel down there.

“one sec… there’s something… else…”

cool, metallic, fine to the touch. plucking it out he stands and examines the ‘new’ find’.  the corner of his shirt serves as a duster to remove a little of the collected dirt and a moment later he’s holding up a slender bracelet.  a soft gold colour now that the dust has been cleaned away.  with a small sparkle from a gem set, flashes of purple and lilac from the stone.  not a cheap piece of jewellery by any stretch of the imagination.

a lucky find.

“don’t suppose you recognise this?  i’m sure someone will be missing it.”

➼

‘Does it matter?’ No, it doesn’t. Osun sighs in defeat, but still there’s something to be said for a fun game of chance. Although, bless his cotton socks, the man is still groping round in the dark for his coin that Osun has unceremoniously flung onto the ground.

He rights himself holding up a dusty bracelet, he swipes away at it, clearing it of dust. A familiar piece of jewellery, “What the fuck?” 

Osun usually tries not to be crude with strangers, but it slips out anyway. They take the bracelet, as beautiful as it is, it’s not theirs but it looks very familiar. It definitely belongs to an Endine member, “ Not mine but I’m certain a friend of mine misplaced this a while back. What luck you’d find it whilst I’m here. Ha.”

Athena laughed. “I think Monty would love that. Make sure to put him on show yes? And a name, he must have a name.” She spoke as if they were talking about something entirely official. Well, in the eyes of Osun, it may as well be.

Everyone could use a reason to smile at the moment she supposed. And if a bright pink toy would do that, then she would let it.

With a shake of her head, she took Osun’s arm. “Hard pass. Would rather not risk it. After all, this outfit is much to precious don’t you think?” After all, Osun did help pick it out. If it weren’t for them and Rebecca, she would have turned up in a simple coloured suit like she did the year before.

➼

“Oh he will be named, eventually. I just need the right one to find me, first. Names are tricky and important things after all,” Osun answers in a serious tone to match Athena’s. It is important house business, after all, make a House a Home and all that. Osun’s unofficial-official role as a Notable essentially comes down to that after all. 

“Oh fair point, we can’t ruin your look, or mine, but I can fix mine alot easier with a lil—” Osun wiggles their fingers to indicate ‘magic’ or something.

“Have I complimented you yet? Cause I really have to say you look divine. A true beauty. A Goddess. I could go on.” Osun says with a huge grin, they had already complimented Athena’s outfit but there’s nothing like showering well earned praise and wholehearted compliments to friends. What else are friends for but fluffing each other’s egos? Or, in Athena’s case, an attempt to give her the slightest of egos.

“Hm,” Osun hums in thought strolling through the festivities. “How about some friendly competition? There’s a mini shooting range. Plastic pellets, no prizes besides bragging rights so we know it’s not rigged.”