The Man of the Hour

"Happy Valentine’s day, asshole." He shoved a bowl of chocolate kisses at Mickey.

"Kisses!" He filled with glee, "Check it, I can take it off in one move." He grabbed hold of the paper string and the foil, taking it off entirely. "This is really nice of you. Can I have a hug? Please?"

"Dey taste like chalk."

"I!... I... cannot argue with that. But like, good chalk, kinda like sweet Altoids."

"Oh, good, I don’ care for dos." She smiled as he held the small heart up to her. "Well, well, de candy doesn’ lie." She grinned at him. "You are a cute littal t’ing, an’ all by yaself? Why is dat?"

"Oh c'mon, really? They taste like colors and joy, my favorite. And the candy doesn't lie indeed." He poured a small handful into his palm and also swallowed those. "I'm new, y'see. I basically know no one. I could say the same about you though."

His hand hovered over her hoard, snatching up a small packet of conversation hearts. He picked one up, holding it up to her, "'U' 'R' a 'QT'," he read. Mickey chuckled, smiling and popping it into his mouth.

"I ‘ave some extra candy. Do you wan’ it?"

Do you mind? Can I have it?

He pulled his hand back when the other pulled away from it, huffing and placing both his hands on his hips, shaking his head. Even now Mickey was showing his trademark optimism and Oswald just didn’t get it. Didn’t get how the other could still be so calm with all this going on and with— well, he supposed that his brother showing up at his place of work slash home was only his problem, and Mickey wouldn’t be worried about that, would he?

Not a hint of a smile, not a reluctant tug of the mouth, not even a glint and the eyes. Everything was steely, and cold, and suggested to Mickey that he shouldn't be there. But Mickey wouldn't back down, he loved Oswald, despite how hard Oswald could be.

Wendy managed to throw herself into a corner in the car. She hoped that it would give her a little bit of space and help her avoid being pushed and shoved. Closing her eyes, she lifted her arms in order to stretch and accidentally hit someone. Her eyes flew open as her hand flew to her mouth. “I am so sorry.” she quickly apologized. In such a crowded area, she’d have to get used to keeping her hands at her sides. “Are you okay?”

Mickey dawdled in the corner, completely bored out of his mind. They didn't exactly provide entertainment options. He stood there, glancing out the window as things stayed stationary and the train continued on. He was completely unaware as suddenly he was hit in the face by a wayward hand. Mickey blinked, straightening up with surprise. "Yeah, wow, yeah, I'm fine. Just a bit surprised that's all."

"Nice!" Barrel lifted his hand up to high five Mickey. "For now we need people, I mean I guess we could do it with two, but it’d be better with more" Barrel suddenly got a good look at Mickey and his stomach dropped. The blond hair, sweet face, but it couldn’t be, that was highly unlikely, wasn’t it? "Sorry" Barrel shook his head, realizing he had been awkwardly frozen and gave another smile. "I guess first things first, we gotta figure out if we wanna go threw the door or on the roof" He nodded to the door and pointed at the roof respectively. "And like make a plan I guess"  

Mickey laughed, readjusting the hand that he meant to use to shake, and instead high-fiving the other. Not what he was expecting, but why the hell not. "You need me to recruit? I can recruit, with a face like this there isn't much I can't convince people to do." Mickey was well aware of his charm and good looks, and the job he had gotten from Scar only reaffirmed that. As the other froze, Mickey's brow furrowed, but let it go and continued on the plan. "What's with the door? Can't we just walk through?"

Kitchen Raid || Open

Mickey watched the boy jump onto the table, a grin coming across Mickey's face as he realized what the boy was talking about. He wasn't a bad kid, but he was certainly up for adventure and mischief. Raiding the kitchen certainly wouldn't be wrong, it seemed everyone just assumed that carnival law was real law, but it wasn't, it was wrong of them to be keeping them in here. And the apparent emptiness of his stomach only persuaded him to join the crusade. Mickey shouldered his way through people, reaching Barrel and holding out a hand. "Count me in, what can I do?"

Oswald was very glad to be out of the car he’d been cooped up in— although not particularly happy at being put in a car with even more people. He was pretty asocial as far as other human beings came, and could only take them in small doses unless they were down to earth. Which a lot of people here weren’t. But at least he could kick it underneath a table or something, with the ample tablecloth to shield most of himself from others.

Mickey's huge, gleeful eyes lit up as his brother made his way towards him. He had it in his head that all of the stressing he had done was for naught, and that his brother was actually pushing through the crowd to come wrap him in a brotherly embrace, and that the horror in his eyes was just shock from being shoved in a car.

"If you do just make sure you don’t get caught." He smirked a bit. Avoiding blame was easy enough around here. Too many times he’d been able to sweep accidents under the rug or been able to avoid accusations by other carnies about pranks pulled on them. A bustling carnival was the perfect place for a trouble maker after all. "Oh yeah?" Stitch shifted, turning a little more towards him. "What’d you do to make him hate you?" As much as Leroy and Reuben could get on his nerves at times he could never say there was a time where he legitimately hated one of them. Siblings who didn’t get along had always puzzled him. After all if not for his own siblings he’d likely be dead. Stitch’s smirk grew, turning into more of a cheeky smile. "Then by all means, someone should yank that thing right outta there shouldn’t they?" 

Mickey smirked, mischievous thoughts playing around behind his eyes. That could be fun, hell, that could be a lot of fun. He wanted to get there and meet some people, he was getting a little stir crazy.

The way he rambled made Stitch narrow his eyes a little. People like this usually annoyed him and often became his main target for pranks…or worse. He held up a hand to keep him from asking anymore questions before he could answer them. “Doin’ stupid shit mostly.” He shrugged his shoulders. “A lot of stuff can get you in trouble if you’re not careful about it. But this? No. You’ve got to royally screw up to get this kind of attention. Whoever they peg is gonna be one unlucky bastard.” But it might be fun to see what kind of punishments got doled out. Maybe a cast off from the top of the train. Classic. At the mention of his family he glanced back at him. “What’d you follow him for? Did he take something?”

Oh. According to Mickey's brother, Mickey was the king of stupid shit. He would get into rather, awkward situations, whether by curiosity or mischievousness, and a carnival was exactly a playground for someone like him. "Goshshit I hope I don't fuck up this bad." With his luck, he would. Mickey shook his head, "Nah, he kind of... Hates me. I followed him to try to fix it." Mickey paused, considering saying something behind Oswald's back. Mickey wasn't a particularly mean person but well, he had said it to Oswald face before, so he was sure it was fine. "He's got a major stick rammed up his ass." His eyes darted across the room and  he coughed, "Kindalikesomepeoplehere."