amity needed a bit of a break from the ball, not the people, but dancing and being around this many people was a lot for someone who spent 90% of her time in the library. she wasn't used to a lot of people being in her personal space. while she'd gotten a few dances in, she did want to make sure she saw her friends too and got to see everyone's outfits before the end of the night. she found herself near the champagne flute tower, watching luz from across the room. she couldn't keep her eyes off her friend. her... favorite person.

she wasn't paying attention to where she was walking, when she stepped on someone's toe on accident. she looked up to see milo. "oh, i'm so sorry." she found her eyes going back to luz for a moment before looking back to milo. "i'm glad i ran into you. you look nice."

LOCATION: summer solstice ball, evening/night

Beatrice curls into her seat on the window ledge, forcefully yanking the curtain closed to hide her from the rest of the ball. She rests her feet against the sliver of wall opposite her, covering her knees in a swathe of blue fabric. This whole thing is stupid. She shouldn't have come. Between the fire-eaters and the sword-swallowers, there's too much happening to feel like home.

She catches a glimpse of her reflection in the window - wrong - and habitually lifts a hand to feel for feathers. It flutters there a moment before she pulls it away lest she ruin her hair. She'd put it up in a half-remembered copy of the way her mother used to do it, the way she herself had begrudgingly done it for one of her sisters. The dress she's wearing feels like something half-remembered too. Same with the dancing. When she looks at the ballroom she remembers learning to dance. Standing on her father's feet while they whirled around in front of the fire. And later too, the more formal stuff with her mother reminding her of the footwork. A ball, and she's hiding herself away. Mother would be so disappointed, she thinks like a needle to the heart.

She huffs out a beleaguered sigh. Then startles badly as someone pushes aside the curtain hiding her away. “Jiminy Christmas!” she scowls, dropping her feet back down to the floor. “Unless you're here to offer me fancy food, this spot's taken!”

he’d spent the majority of the evening so far wandering between the sides of the ballroom and the gardens, but his nosiness had always got the better of him eventually. champagne glass in one hand and napkin-wrapped treats shoved into his pockets, milo was attempting to find himself a more secretive corner to hide away in when he pulled back the curtain to find beatrice.

Logan had quietly slipped away from the dance floor not long after arriving. The gardens were calmer. Lanterns swayed gently overhead, their reflections dancing across the pond while music drifted from the ballroom somewhere behind him. It was close enough that he could still hear it, far enough that he didn't have to compete with it. That suited him. He rested his forearms against the stone railing, a glass of wine balanced loosely in one hand as he watched the water below. Every now and then his attention drifted back toward the celebration, not out of suspicion but habit. His eyes searched the crowd until they found Mavis, lingering just long enough to see her smiling before returning to the pond.

She was enjoying herself. That was enough. A quiet breath escaped through his nose as he took another small sip from his drink. He wasn't much of a dancer, never had been. Large celebrations weren't really his scene either. Give him a quiet evening at home, a book Mavis insisted he read, and the two of them curled up on the couch, and he'd choose that every time. Still... He didn't regret coming. Not for a second.

His gaze settled on the lanterns reflecting across the water, the corner of his mouth lifting into the faintest smile. "I think this is more my speed."

"you and me both." milo chuckled lightly, lifting the glass as a way of cheersing the comment. "the best parties have something for everyone, right? or, i'm guessing so? it's been a long time since i've been to an event, and i'm not sure i've ever been to anything like this before. i considered looking for a library of some sorts at one point, but that feels like it might be going over some lines."

"do you usually go to things like this, or are you like me?"

holding up his hands in mock defence, milo gives both king and clover a small grin. "alright, you caught me." he says in a loud whisper, settling down onto the fountain ledge just next to them both. "so, what's the research? anything an old nerd could help with?"

now a days the city just felt different. not wrong in any sense. just... different. maybe it was because he had been gone for so long, or because people looked at him differently?? regardless, he couldn’t put his finger on why?... he kept expecting things to feel the way they used to and finding that they didn't...he was still hearing whispers..still having weird dreams with no reason..and for whatever the reason, he'd stopped trying to figure out the why behind it all...at least for now.

king found himself perched on a weathered bench tucked along one of elias' busier paths, watching the city drifting around him as the evening began to settled in. the sounds of distant conversations mixed with the hum of passing traffic, lights beginning to flicker awake one by one. clover sat comfortably atop his head, completely unbothered by any of it. lucky bird. king leaned back against the bench, arms folded loosely across his chest. "y 'know"  he murmured, glancing upward. "i think you're only here because nobody's told you i'm a terrible influence." a chirp. "woooow. okay." another chirp. he snorted despite himself and for a while, that was enough. the quiet and the company. the simple comfort of not having to explain himself to anyone. then clover suddenly perked up and king noticed immediately. “...don't.”

the bird ignored him. "clover." with a delighted chirp, the small creature launched himself into the air as king watched in slow-motion horror as clover beelined toward the nearest unsuspecting passerby. "ooh, no..not again...you can't just adopt people you don't know" he pushed himself off the bench and started after him, already rubbing at his temple. the bird chirped happily, disagreeing of his remarks.

so, there he was, tucked to the side of the pavement, staring off into the distance, as he tried to rattle his brain for any kind of idea on how he should spend his time. that question was quickly answered by the universe, or just a bird, when clover came into his eye-line. milo jumped at first on pure instinct, before he finally realised just what had come into his vicinity, an unexpected but hearty laugh responding to the pair’s exchange.

dewey was tired of hearing that he had middle child syndrome. first of all, he was an adult and it didn't matter if he did like attention, he still was not a child anymore. second, it wasn't his fault that both his brothers were the types that didn't prefer diving head first into something. he snuck off in the morning before either of his brothers or webby could ask where he was going. he never really knew the answer to that question anymore. half the time he spent his days wandering around and the other half he was actively looking for a job that wouldn't bore him after the first hour. the first was usually him finding cool places or talking to cool people and the second usually was an early fail and turned into the former. today was meant to be a a relaxing day. he wanted to look at cool artefacts at the museum, remember the good old days, even if those good old days were... well not far in the past.

he walked up in front of a piece and looked at it for a moment before his eyes landed on the on loan from the private collection of scrooge mcduck. okay well, apparently the museum wasn't even a safe place. this was at least the third piece that had that plaque. "i'll pay you like $3 if you ditch this place and come to lunch with me. i thought it would be nice to have a good calm afternoon, but this is like the third thing i've seen that scrooge mcduck donated."

“what have you been up to lately, anyways? you lead a far more interesting life than i do, consider it me living vicariously through you or something.” he slings his satchel over his shoulder as he spoke, looking over to dewey once he’d successfully shrugged it into place.

but this was truly a blessing in disguise. now, agnes could be a free agent—less beholden to whatever guidelines or rules or demands elias chronicle has. that also meant new doors could open. she could explore other avenues to find the truth. hence, why she jumped at the opportunity to work with milo. (of course being paid is good too.)

"you do pry a lot. you ask a lot of questions," agnes said in return. "but i ask a lot of questions too, so we can bother each other, i suppose."

how much of what happened should she even divulge? milo seemed genuine in his intent. he didn't give off the impression of someone evil, the opposite actually.

"things did happen. i'm okay. annoyed, but okay." it was as though she was telling herself that. she took the cup and started sipping her drink. her voice was quieter than normal. "it appears that the chronicle and i weren't really seeing eye-to-eye. so they cut off who they thought was causing problems. i won't cause problems here, if that's what you're asking."

milo wasn't entirely sure what had happened, and he also wasn't entirely sure if he ever would. but he could tell whatever it was, was eating away at her in some capacity or another and it felt wrong of him as either a friend or new colleague to simply brush past it.

"i promise i wasn't asking just to see if you'd be a problem here, i already know you won't be. and, hey, if you do end up being a problem for the big shots here? i have your back. you don't need to tell me what happened at the paper, but i can promise you that i won't let you deal with it alone, again or currently. i'm all ears, if you need to talk, but i can also give you a lot of things to occupy your mind with if that's more your speed."

"yeah, they work hard every day too." now that sylvie was contributing to the household, she didn't feel like as much of a burden. she liked the cooking and cleaning, but getting to go out and do things with her own money was rewarding too. she laughed at his words. "i kind of stumbled onto their house if i'm being quite honest. it was raining and i needed shelter and they were kind enough to offer. however, i love baking, so we should be friends and i can make you baked goods as often as you wish."

"you stumbled upon their house in the rain and then they just, let you live with them?" milo raises his brows but there's no judgement in it, more so just pleasant curiosity of sylvie's roommates and what kind of people they must be like. "you must feel pretty lucky about having friends like those in your life, and even though i just met you, i'm guessing they probably feel the same way about you, too." there's a slight flash of sadness in the smile he gives sylvie now, but he makes sure it doesn't last longer than a moment. "sounds like a deal i wouldn't be able to argue with in my right mind, though you have to let me give you something in return."

hopper didn’t even bother to hide the look he gave him... slow, unimpressed, like milo had just asked him the dumbest question he’d heard all day. he glanced down at the cluttered table, then back up, one brow ticking up. “what, you think i’m running the place?” he muttered, voice dry as hell. “do i look like i’m selling this shit?”

he nudged one of the pots with the back of his fingers, like he didn’t trust it not to crumble. “probably a dead person’s house,” he added, shrugging one shoulder. “or someone’s attic that should’ve stayed locked.” his gaze slid back to milo, a little sharper now. “why? you planning on stealing it, or just interrogating random people like they’ve got a catalog in their back pocket?”

"interrogating? don't you have to be intimidating to interrogate someone? last i checked, i'm just a guy looking for some trinkets in the back end of a dark market -- nothing untoward going on here at all." milo picks up one of the pots that hopper had nudged, quiet for a moment as he observed it in his hands. there's a short pause before milo's expression turns more serious and concerned. "do you really think this was a dead person's? does it seem cursed to you?"

"no? why would i be paranoid?" which was a damn lie and he knew it. after everything that had happened to him, he was paranoid. however, he didn't like people knowing that. he hardly paid attention to everything going on around him. talking about being paranoid with someone he didn't know wasn't the right move. "no, i'm not apprehensive about stuff like that." the only thing jinu was apprehensive about was someone finding out all his secrets or someone hating his music.

"because there's all kinds of weird stuff going on lately? i think it would be pretty normal for anyone to feel a little paranoid at the moment, especially when it's starts to get darker. but, hey, maybe i'm a scaredy cat." he gives jinu a softer smile now, a short shrug following. "are you from around here? or you're just one of those people who just kinda, goes with the flow and doesn't think all that much about anything?"

luz always loved hanging around milo. she was fascinated with how his mind worked. it seemed like there was no limit to the knowledge he held. he was always willing to answer any questions she had and for that alone she was grateful. luz knew she could be a lot but she never felt like a handful in milo's presence. she made an apologetic face once she realized she had broken his concentration. she never had hers to begin with.

"you think so?" luz immediately brightened at milo's words. any doubts or frustrations she may have had melted away. "thank you," she added, now quite proud of the work she had created. "you know what .. you're right i should!" luz had no problem making things weirder. it was a speciality of hers. "yeah, it is. i can see that." she tilted her head to give milo's painting a better look. "i think you're thinking too hard. you kind of have to let go, you know? of perfectionism, coloring inside the lines. it looks like you're holding yourself back from making it too abstract."

"you think i'm thinking too hard? huh, that doesn't sound like me at all." he scoffs lightly, flashing her a quick smile. adjusting his sitting position, turning back to the canvas. "how do you do it? put everything onto the page, i mean. just -- letting go of over thinking and just paint. i don't think i've ever truly been creative, you know? not officially, not in this kind of way. i know people back home probably thought i had a creative spirit or something, but i don't think they meant it in this way -- or a good way in general."

"no you're absolutely right. i could be like, a stanley cup personality. a harmless dr. pepper every now and then is good for the soul. you know coke is great. put some lime in it and it's the best drink ever." any bite that leo had melted into something softer, friendlier once he saw milo's face. "the worst candy or worst jelly bean?" leo asked as he tilted his head. "the worst one i've ever had was the dead fish. my brothers and i played bean boozled once when we were younger, and it was horrible. i also had the bright idea of adding the spicy ones too and those were also horrible." a shiver went up his spine as he recalled that night. the taste of the jellybeans lingered on his tongue.

"i typically don't reach for obviously bad candy flavors. what about you? what's the worst for you?"

"you know, maybe it wasn't so bad i was an only child after all, or maybe it's a good job my grandfather never knew those things existed, he would've enjoyed tricking me with them far too much. i guess it at least means you all have a varied palette now, right? surely nothing can phase you flavour wise once you've hit the rock bottom of dead fish flavoured candy."

"sour candy always sneaks up on me in the worst way -- they hide in plain sight, make you think it's just a run of the mill candy and then? no taste buds left." he shakes his head to reaffirm his distaste. "if you were stuck on a desert island somewhere, which snack are you bringing? you can have one sweet, and one savoury."

semra gave milo a long look up and down. she took her time, really dissecting every inch of him. it was always the ones that shouldn't be playing hero, attempting to anyway. once she was done judging him, she eyes landed back on his. her head tilted, brow raised, and she gave milo an amused look. "no, i don't."

"they could, but that's why it's called entertainment," she added emphasis on the ending 't' to really drive her point across. "it's not our job to save the day. if they want to scuffle about a few bucks, then that's on them for being idiots." a laugh fell from her lips, full of twisted wit. "absolutely. aren't you not? nope. can't say that i do. i don't think it matters. why do you know them?"

"i wouldn't say enjoy was the first thing that came to mind, but then again i'm pretty new to this whole street brawl thing, which apparently you aren't. i figured if you did know them and knew they weren't great people it might make it feel less awful not intervening? but then i guess admitting that makes me sound pretty bad, right?"

chess made a face at the word unless. it was profound, their hatred for the word. just when they seemed to have deciphered a human rule, there was an unless. a nuance. a nuisance. a trick. "are you asking me a favorite?" chess was starting to learn what some of these idiosyncrasies meant. humans loved to claim certain preferences, like pets and (apparently) times of day, by claiming to be that kind of people. "twice a day, the sky is orange and pink, not blue and gray. i enjoy those times."

the question of what chess did - well - that did not seem palatable to the human mind. he waited, he watched, and he studied. he tricked that mermaid girl and her vampire friend that he was a cat. he talked to people. "well, you see," chess began. "i do this."

and how else could the cat explain it?

"what is your favorite book to read?" they asked, changing the subject quickly. "are you very familiar with books about history?"

"this?" milo's brows scrunch for a moment as he runs the sentence through his head a few times, pointing between himself and chess. "you talk to people? are you a journalist? is this for some kind of newsletter i didn't know about? because i'm pretty sure we could find you a more interesting subject, if so."

he hums softly in thought at the question, scanning his brain for what felt like an impossible answer. "i'd say pretty familiar, though it depends whose history we're talking about, there's a lot of it to go around and i haven't figured out the best way to turn myself into a cyborg yet so i can store it all. are you a lover of history?"

"oh, i don't have much experience either," she admitted, giggling now at the realization. it was quite bold of her demand a dance of a stranger when she had only traded in her tail for legs in adulthood. but learning of the artform so late in life allowed her to approach it with this idea that no movement needed to be deemed good or bad - you just had to move! "i bet if you give me five minutes of your time, i can make you feel better about it."

bold as a claim as it was, ariel was pretty certain she could do it.

right on cue, the next band started tuning their instruments and getting ready to start their set. ariel beamed at her new friend. "you hear that?" she asked, spinning around as if the sound came directly from the sky. "they're getting ready for us!"

"when you say you don't have much experience, what do you mean, exactly? because my lack of experience and yours might be worlds apart and i aim to make this as minimally embarrassing for you as possible."