MK / JD, Mik . 35 . Borrower Witch Alpha . āFreelance Hackerā . +Ā mellow, resourceful, playful, perceptive -Ā lazy, apathetic, cagey, indecisive, irritable, inconsistent
FCĀ . Hiromu Takahashi
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MK / JD, Mik . 35 . Borrower Witch Alpha . āFreelance Hackerā . +Ā mellow, resourceful, playful, perceptive -Ā lazy, apathetic, cagey, indecisive, irritable, inconsistent
FCĀ . Hiromu Takahashi

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Dom chuckled at JDās words, leaning in a little closer, his voice dropping to a teasing purr. āIām good at making people beg,ā he said with a smirk, pulling back to give JD a playful wink.
As he finished cleaning his mixing glasses, he laughed softly. āThatās quite the compliment. I really appreciate it,ā he said, his smile warm and genuine. āI only offer the secret menu to customers I like.ā He gave JD a lingering look, his smirk returning. āAnd I like your vibes, handsome.ā
āNow, as for payment,ā Dom continued, leaning on the bar with a casual air, āI usually take cash, and I appreciate a good tip if you liked your service. That can definitely be cashā¦ā He paused, a mischievous glint in his eye as he remembered his own past. āOr other services,ā he chuckled, more to himself than anyone else.
Turning his attention back to JD, he added with a laugh, āBut if youāve got the cash, those other services arenāt required. Just keep coming back for my drinks and charming company!ā He winked again, the playful banter filling the space between them with an easy chemistry.
The bartender is cute, JD will give him that. His playful words, his teasing smiles- they're comfortable, an easy dance in a worn pair of shoes. JD doesn't have to think too hard about it all; he smiles in turn, equally playful, eyes twinkling in the low light as he takes the last sip of his drink. "You're not so bad yourself," he comments offhandedly, "your vibes... consider me charmed." His chuckle is subdued, barely audible.
He plucks the umbrella from the rim of his glass and fidgets with it idly as he listens. He hums softly, sliding his fingers along the tiny apparatus to open and close it. "Other services," he drawls, "not the first time I've heard that. Would you even want my services, though, chƩri?"
"I'm not good with much," he continues breezily, "retired, you know. Sort of. I'm not hurtin' for cash, though, so I hope that'll be alright for now." He reaches into his pocket and procures a sleek black wallet; he rifles through it before sliding several bills onto the counter and setting his empty cup atop them. "It's been much appreciated but I've gotta get back at it. All those e-mails won't answer themselves..." He breathes deeply as he rises from his seat, shoulders slumping when he exhales. "Ciao, chƩri," he says, raising a hand in farewell before turning to head out.
Dom chuckled at JDās enthusiastic acceptance of his āquest.ā āWell, I look forward to seeing you more often, oh brave warrior!ā he played along, giving JD a little mock bow, his eyes sparkling with humor.
He smirked at the mention of his secret menu item. āOh, Iām sure youāll enjoy it. Youāll be begging for more,ā he teased, tossing in a wink for good measure. As he poured himself a glass of water, he took a refreshing sip, the coolness revitalizing him.
āIām really glad you like my work,ā he continued, leaning casually against the bar. āItās nice to know Iām actually good at this job and that people arenāt just coming here for my pretty face,ā he giggled, his playful demeanor shining through. āBut hey, if my charm and good looks bring in the customers, who am I to complain?ā He flashed a cheeky grin, clearly enjoying the light-hearted banter and the connection they were building.
JD's chuckle is low as he witnesses the playful bow, perhaps a bit endeared by the enthusiasm. He'd return the energy were he not seated, but it's a little difficult to bow with a flourish while slouched over a counter. Another sip has his drink running low but he doesn't appear particularly bothered; the dull buzz settling in the back of his skull is quite pleasant.
"Begging? Really?" His lazy smile sharpens into a curved smirk. "That's a tall order to live up to- I'll be looking forward to it." He chuckles again, low and fond.
He leans against the polished counter and swirls his drink idly. "So modest, chƩri," he drawls, "you've got to be the best I've met since getting here, if that counts for anything. The pretty face doesn't hurt, though." He pokes his tongue out teasingly. "But the drinks are what'll keep everyone coming back, surely. And with the promise of a secret menu item... well, you've got me hooked, that's for sure."
"So, tell me: what do I owe you? Cash, favors... I'm still not so good with the economy around here, admittedly."
Dom watched with a smirk as JD took a sip of the drink heād crafted, already knowing it was a winner. The way JD admired the colorful umbrella was adorable, and he couldnāt help but chuckle softly when the man stumbled over his words. āIām really glad you like it,ā he said, leaning casually against the bar, a playful glint in his eyes.
As he began cleaning his mixing glasses, JD asked about any rumors or gossip floating around. Dom shrugged, a teasing smile forming on his lips. āHmm, not really. Iām still pretty new here, so even if I did hear some gossip, I wouldnāt have a clue who itās about,ā he laughed. āAnd honestly, who knows if itās even juicy? Itās a bit strange being surrounded by people who talk so openly about their heats and, well⦠other omega issues.ā
He glanced over at JD as he spoke, trying not to be too obvious about checking him out. The way the light caught his features was distracting in the best possible way.
āNow, as for quests,ā he said, leaning in a little closer, the atmosphere charged with playful energy, āmy quest for you is to enjoy every drink I serve. Think you can handle that?ā He raised an eyebrow, grinning widely. āAnd who knows? If you keep coming back, I might just whip up something special for you next time. Maybe a secret menu item just for the brave?ā He winked, clearly enjoying the banter.
JD glances up as he listens, a soft smile still playing on his lips. The lovely bartender is new around town, then? Not that it means much to him- he still hasn't entirely gotten his own bearings in New Haven, and pretty much anyone he comes across is a new face. He inclines his head in a slight nod as he hums in acknowledgment of the sentiments being shared. "Yeah," he murmurs, "things here are... different. Mm."
His focus returns to his drink as he takes another slow sip. The umbrella teeters on the edge of the glass, threatening to fall, but ultimately manages to remain balanced. He nudges it absently, a lackluster attempt at ensuring its security.
Perhaps it's the warmth of the alcohol settling in his gut, but he finds himself leaning closer as well. He rests an elbow on the counter, dark eyes glinting playfully in the light. "That's a quest I can certainly manage, chƩri," he says, smile widening a fraction, "you can consider it done." He's enjoyed his Tokyo Tea thus far and doesn't anticipate that changing. That basically makes his quest a success for now, right?
He drags his index along the counter to draw a checkmark, chuckling softly as he does so. "I'll be your bravest warrior," he continues, nonchalant. "I'll be looking forward to that secret menu item, hm? I'm sure it'll well worth the wait, all things considered." He motions vaguely to his drink, fingers brushing against the side of the glass. He doesn't hesitate to take another sip, sighing contentedly afterwards. "You're good," he murmurs, "you shouldn't be wondering if I'll be coming back, but when, you know?"
Dom couldnāt help but smirk at the manās delightfully mismatched outfit. It was eccentric, and he found its odd charm oddly appealing. Leaning over the bar, he eyed the tiny umbrella the man was holding with a knowing grin. āWell, thatās a statement,ā he said, voice dripping with playful sarcasm. āLetās find a drink worthy of that accessory.ā
After a quick mental run-through of his drink repertoire, Dom decided on a Tokyo Tea. Its vibrant green seemed like the perfect match for the little umbrella. He mixed the cocktail with a flourish, making sure to give it just the right amount of flair.
Sliding the drink across the bar with a dramatic flourish, he quipped, āHere you go. Iām sure the little umbrella will be thrilled with its new home. Cheers to making bold fashion choices!ā He chuckled, watching with amusement as the man took in the drink.
JD nods along as the bartender speaks, pleased with the warm the reception to his admittedly odd request. He continues to twirl the tiny umbrella between his thumb and forefinger as he watches the bartender work his magic. His lips quirk as he watches, smile widening a fraction in response to the dramatic flourishing. Very cute, chƩri.
He drops the umbrella onto the rim of the glass and it does look quite at home there, almost matching the color of the drink. His gaze flicks down for less than a second, a subtle assessment of his own attire, before his attention returns to his drink. "Cheers," he echoes with a lopsided grin, raising the glass to his lips to take a long and generous sip.
He's silent for a moment, savoring the taste.
"It's perfect," he praises, eyes crinkling at the corners when he smiles, "they pair together well, don't they?" He indicates the umbrella balancing on the rim, the thin wooden pole now barely submerged in the green liquid. "You have a good eye, pal. And good... mixing... skills. Hm. That sounds a bit awkward. Forgive me, chƩri- what I mean to say is that it tastes good. So thanks for that." He takes another sip of his drink, this one much smaller, and is careful to avoid hitting himself in the face with the umbrella garnish.
"So," he begins again, eyes on his drink as he slides his index along the rim, nudging the umbrella along with it. "Heard any rumors lately? Or... hmm. Gossip? Got any quests? Anything?" His voice may be soft but it still lilts playfully, a few notes of an accent shining through as he speaks.

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Dominik let out a soft sigh as he wiped down the bar, his curls falling into his face while he scrubbed at a particularly stubborn spill. He quickly straightened up when he heard the bell above the door chime, signaling a new arrival. "Welcome!" he called out, brushing his curls aside as he turned to face the customer. With a charming smile and a hand resting on his exposed hip, he added, "What can I get for you today, handsome?" Dominik wore a baggy crop top repurposed from an old Metallica t-shirt and tight low-rise jeans that accentuated the band of his briefs. Though his attire might not have been the most conventional for bar work, it made him feel confident and comfortable, and that was what mattered most to him.
The bell chimes as JD pushes through the door. Itās too early to be here and he knows it- he just doesnāt care. The sun is still high in the sky even if the weather is a little brisk. It doesnāt matter. Day or night, rain or shine, he always finds his way back to places like this. He gives the bartender a cursory glance, gaze lingering for only a moment before he takes a seat at the counter. He sets an elbow on the polished surface and cups his chin in his hand before flashing a subdued smile.
āWell, chĆ©ri,ā he says as he reaches into the pocket of his tan trench coat that absolutely does not pair well with his ensemble. A dark t-shirt with a fading Nirvana logo, ill-fitting gray sweats, and black converse with the laces knotted several times rather than tied. āIām on the hunt, yāsee. For the perfect drink.ā His tone is lilting, playful, and contains a soft hint of southern twang. He pulls a lime-green paper umbrella from his pocket and pushes it open with his thumb and index before holding it up. āThe perfect home, even, for my sad lil umbrella. Can you help me out?ā
There was a usual cockiness to Fidel whenever the coyness was able to be heard from his client's voice. The uncertainty and anticipation bubbling to the surface. Standing besides the alpha witch, however, that particular brand of cockiness was absent. Moving in to New Haven had once felt like a dream come true for the werewolf, being able to live and let live. It seemed like the towns motto in some way - felt on some day more than others.
Now, however, Fidel felt a bit concerned for the alpha witch. Maybe it was the cracks in the dome causing doubt in his mind. The talk about his price made him feel a bit more anxious about taking on clients while inside New Haven. People in robes weren't the only thing lurking around that Fidel had to worry about ruining his fun. He decides to play it by ear with the guy. He didn't seem like terrible company to keep. It was a festival too, never a bad thing to keep company while celebrating.
"I wouldn't mind something to eat." Fidel smiles softly at the other alpha. He did find it funny, growing up a prince, it was usually him buying and obtaining things for other people. Landing here, circumstances allowed for roles to switch - something he was no stranger to. "Festivals a bit new to me, but I remember having a few celebrations like these in the past."
"We.. We can talk payment later." Fidel offers, "Not exactly planning on going anywhere with all that's happening outside, are ya?" He asks mischievously, "Let's just hang out for a sec. See if we connect first before we're jumping each other's bones." He winks at him.
JD's lips tug upwards but any further dialogue he might have added is cut short. Jumping each other's bones. Perhaps he should have been a little more up front about that part. But then, payment is payment, isn't it? He rubs the back of his neck almost awkwardly as he searches the depths of his brain for a way to explain himself.
"Oh, yeah, no. No, that's not- I wanna hang out, yeah. But, eh, that's it." He speaks just a little too quickly, fingers tapping restlessly at his sides. Nervous. "This is my first," he continues, "festival. Here. Very first one. Haven't been here long, y'know? It's rough, what with the..." He gestures vaguely and uncertainly. "Everything...? Everything. It's a lot. Haven't really met many folks and thought it'd be nice to, ah... Hang out." He pauses as if to let his words sink in and he hums softly before casting his gaze up at the sky.
"That's where you come in, mon ami." He casts a sidelong glance at Fidel and motions for him to follow as he begins to walk. "You're my friend for the evening, yeah? That's... you're okay with that? Just a little company. Just for a little while." He flashes a hopeful grin before raking a hand restlessly through his hair.
Bruno's eyebrows lift in curiosity. He wasn't quite familiar with JD. Probably didn't help that the young werewolf kept himself inside his apartment after the whole debacle with the dome. It was funny for the omega, in a sense. Even while there was a possibility of New Haven getting attacked more often, Bruno wondered if it would have still been safer since his time in the past.
He stands from the swiveling chair he had sat himself on, still looking the towards the other's direction. Bruno was curious to the other man's need for a Venus Fly Trap and at this late of an hour. Though, he couldn't really blame the other man from entering, the lit interior fulfilling its purpose in inviting would be customers. His inability to sleep seeming to transfer into Bruno's work life didn't seem to help in deterring late night customers. However, Bruno surprisingly felt at ease with this new face poking around his shop.
"Hello, welcome to the... Um.. I'm spacing on the shop's name. That's probably not a good first impression." He chuckles lightly.
"Venus flytraps?" He decides on turning his attention to the other man's original question. "I think we have a few on sale at the moment. They're a little more dormant during the cold months, but still great plants nonetheless."
JD clasps his hands behind his back only to immediately unclasp and return them to his sides. Perhaps the uncharacteristically nervous action is born from his unfamiliar surroundings. It might also have something to do with the lack of anything warm and settling running through his veins, but he doesn't care to take a moment to examine his own vices.Ā
Seemingly emboldened by the shopkeeper's shift in stance, he takes a few more light steps towards the desk. He doesn't know this face, much like he doesn't know any face around town- he doesn't get out much, doesn't do much. It's only natural that he wouldn't really know anybody. Still, he offers a slight smile, teeth peeking out from beneath his lips as he nods along to the shopkeeper's ramblings.Ā
āI figure I'm not leaving you with the best impression either, chĆ©ri,ā he interjects lightly, ārushing in at such an hourās gotta be a bit of a faux pas, yeah?ā His chuckle is soft, subdued, and quick to taper off. Though this fine establishment is well-lit and cozy, he is more than aware of the oppressive darkness currently painting the outside world.Ā
He hums as he listens, one hand fidgeting absently with his pocket. āRight,ā he says, ādormant in the colder months, got it. Could I trouble you just a touch further, chĆ©ri? Iād like to take a look at āem, if that would be quite alright.ā His tone dips and adopts a bit of an accented twang the longer he speaks. He reclines onto his heels as he gives the shop another once-over, scanning the various plants for any that scream Iām a Venus flytrap, come check me out. Coming up short, he flashes another apologetic smile. āI donāt really have an eye for these things,ā he admits, āso if you could help me pick out one of your finest, well⦠Itād be greatly appreciated.ā
open starter | location: greenhouse nursery
Bruno had been staying in the greenhouse all afternoon, carefully tending to the different plants that shared his space. His boss left a few hours ago and Bruno has yet to incorporate the town into his evening routine. The young omega wolf didn't mind, however. His own house wasn't too far away from the shop and the shelves of plants has been more than perfect company for Bruno. It was certainly an odd thing to notice, but being around plants seemed to be a way Bruno to reach some peace. Especially after all that's happened, Bruno found peace of mind staying here late and mindlessly watering the ferns. Having your home ripped from under you seems a bit more bearable when surrounded by plants.
He sits back down on his chair, a small but spacious work desk is in front of him. The usual clutter on the desk; plant bits, receipt copies, and packaging paper. Bruno places a small plant onto the work desk, a small bear claw plant. He taps the plant squarely in the center of one of their green paws before hearing someone opening the greenhouse door. Bruno looks at the direction of the door, curious to who would be in need of budding plants so late at night. "Hello..? Anyone there? Can I help you with anything?"
"Yes," JD wheezes. His hands linger on the door as he tries to catch his breath and only after his pulse starts to decelerate does he carefully step inside. He pushes his fingers through his messy hair and shuts the door gently behind him. "Yes," he repeats, "yeah, please. You can help me. Absolutely."
He's frazzled, and he wonders just how evident it is that he hadn't intended to stop by, especially not at such a late hour.
His breathing steadies and he fiddles absently with the pockets of his trench coat. His eyes rake over the various plants- he can't name a single one- before he turns his attention toward the desk. He offers a crooked but sheepish smile, suddenly feeling a bit stupid for showing up in such a way.
"I need a Venus flytrap." He takes a timid step closer, pauses, and then takes another. "D'you have any of those? Or anything like them?"
open starter ! location: main street, beltane fire festival
"I know, I know."
It's a nice day, sunny and warm, but JD still wears sweats and an ill-fitting hoodie. His hair is pulled back in a loose and messy ponytail and he shifts his weight almost anxiously as he licks his lips. He's stopped at one of the many stalls that have been lining the main road for the past week or so. He pays little attention to the world around him; his eyes are downcast and his focus is entirely on the contents of a large wooden basin. "I know," he repeats, "yeah, yeah. Definitely. I get it. Listen, chƩri, as much as I enjoy the sound of your voice..."
He smiles apologetically at the vendor, setting down a few crumpled bills as he reaches for a miniature fishing rod. He turns it over in his hands, eyes sparkling with interest as he admires the craftsmanship, before returning his gaze to the pool of shimmering water. Dozens of little bears- wooden, he would guess- bob on the surface. They're crafted in various poses: sitting, walking, laying down, standing on their hind legs- they all have tiny metal hoops, perfect for hanging a hook from, and he'd be lying to claim he didn't find them a bit cute.
"Yes," he continues, nonchalant, "he's awful, truly. There's no one worse. I'm hanging up now. Ciao."
He doesn't wait for an answer. He taps the single earbud in his ear before casting his line into the basin. "My apologies," he drawls, dark eyes flicking up briefly to meet those of the vendor, "my friend is..." He pauses, teeth digging into the inside of his cheek and brow furrowing as he tries to hook one of the many bears. It's more difficult than he would have guessed, or maybe his hands are just a little too shaky.
"...a little dramatic."

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Things had been different this time around. The dome cracking around them, the Stephen King comparison finally ceasing as the alpha werewolf could see the tears adorning the morning commutes and afternoon delights of the town. As decorative as it seemed to be now, Fidel still had a bit of a Y2K mentally regarding the potential fall of the dome and returned to accepting clients around town.
He donned on a white A-shirt, the A stands for alpha, along with a pair of wide legged pants. Fidel was given a location and a name. There was usually additional details during work like this; positions, preferences, payment. Of course many have their aspersions regarding what Fidel did around town. Though it would likely not be worth his time in explaining, not that the alpha would.
There was a hint of hesitation whether or not Fidel should pull out the stops with this client. He had the essentials on him; condom, morning after potion (It probably shouldn't make that much noise while walking.), and a heart shaped lollipop. He wouldn't really have need for them of course, given the nature of assignment provided by his client. He might have over done it with the sucker, but it was part of Fidel's usual arsenal. The alpha would admit to being a bit hungry, so perhaps bringing along the lollipop wouldn't have been a complete waste.
Unwrapping the heart shaped lollipop, Fidel popped it into his mouth as he scanned around the Beltane bon fire for his client.
"JD?"
The first thing JD thinks upon hearing his name- one of them, anyway- is something along the lines of maybe this was a mistake. Those are easy thoughts, anxious thoughts. This wasnāt a good idea, I didnāt think this through, is needing an outlet to yap with really grounds for exchanging money- the whirlwind breezes through his mind in a matter of seconds, a storm that ends before it can even truly begin. Left in its wake is something a bit easier to contend with; his lips curve into a small but easy smile as he fixates on the lollipop.Ā
āGuilty,ā he says as he takes a step forward. He banishes his lighter to his pocket and raises a hand lazily in greeting. āThanks for comingā¦ā On such short notice is implied though he isnāt sure that itās necessary. This had all happened very suddenly: the aching claw of loneliness, the need for immediate relief, taking a chance on an advertisement and reaching out, agonizing over his choice of words so it didnāt sound like he was begging for a little company.
Desperation isnāt a good look, not that heās trying to impress anyone.Ā
āSo,ā he continues, sweeping a hand through his hair and tucking it behind his ear, āyou got many feelings about this festival? The dangoās good. I figured we could get some, if that suits you- my treat. Everythingās my treat, I mean, consideringā¦āĀ
Considering the circumstances. His gaze darts to the side as he sets his arms against his sides, fingers tracing the bulge of his wallet in his pocket. āSpeaking of,ā his voice drops as he switches course, ādo we get squared off now or later? Is it an hourly rate sort of deal, orā¦?āĀ
closed for @feefidofum
Everythingās chill.Ā
These words fly through JDās brain at speeds that are decidedly not chill, echoing like some kind of sick mantra. He flits almost begrudgingly around his room; he grabs clothes, inspects them, shrugs them on briefly before deciding heās unsatisfied. An array of black t-shirts litter his floor and several pairs of pants are stranded amongst them. Itās a tragedy, really- because it shouldnāt be like this. He shouldnāt be feeling anything remotely akin to nervous; he should be lounging on the old couch, indulging in the pleasant thrum of energy thatās taken root at the base of his skull.Ā
But that's the JD who lives in another world. In another town, even.
Heās due for a hit of caffeine by the time he emerges into the main living area. His attire is monochrome, perhaps bland- white distressed jeans and a black t-shirt with a black and white plaid shirt left open over it. He slips his hands in his pockets experimentally, more accustomed to wearing sweats than anything else. His lips curve in a self-satisfied smile before he procures his phone. He rests his hip against the arm of the couch as he scrolls idly through his messages, needing to parse a sea of garbage to find the thread heās actually looking for.Ā
A short exchange, one heād initiated himself with one of the locals. Heād hardly introduced himself- call me JD is the best he could do amidst inquiring about an agreeable time to meet up and dropping his address.
His contact should be here soon, if heās timely at all. If not, well- itās not like Mik actually cares.Ā
Much.
He pockets his phone and wallet before stepping out, more content to fidget with a lighter while leaning against the side of the building than to spend another second suffocating in his own apartment. The sun is low in the sky but night wonāt truly fall for at least another hour or two. Thatās enough time to hang out- or, enough time to hit the festival, surely?
open to: everyone location: the park
" Even though I've been a nurse for nine years, I still can't bring myself to never stop being amazed or surprised at the lack of incompetence from my co-workers it seems." Chance said to himself, his attention to his surroundings was lacking as he reflected on his day while strolling through the local park. Here he was, deciding to immediately go for a stroll rather than changing his clothes because he didn't want to sit and home pissed off and annoyed. Though the people in his unit tried to hide it, they all participated in another co-workers birthday which went from the evening until early morning when many of them had to work. His day was filled with fixing mistakes, waking up grown adults from the secret nap spots they weren't aware Chance knew about, and pissed off patients who were spending longer than usual waiting to be helped. What made matters worse was Chance having to change outfits many times and hardly having any chance to sit down. His nerves were on fire, and not even a walk through the local park was helping. " And the real icing on top was my lunch being stolen and one of my co-workers spilling their coffee order on my bag which now means I have to get the new shoes I wear after work dry-cleaned." Chance took a deep breath, stopping in the middle of the walkway paying no mind to the person he just cut off. "Sorry. It's been a rough day and it was either walk in these cheap disposable shoes to blow off steam or sit at home even more irritated than I am." Chance had already stressed out lately, and today didn't help. "Sorry if I'm in your way, I need a second. You're really handsome by the way. I know I'm not in the best mood but I believe in honesty."
JD isn't sure why he fell into step behind the hospital worker in the first place, but at this point, he's committed to hearing about his tragic tale of misfortune and woe. His own pace is lackadaisical, and it's almost laughable when compared to this guy who's clearly stressed the fuck out.
His hands are in the pockets of his gray sweats and his dark hair is tied back; he nods along absently as the worker speaks even if the action will ultimately go unnoticed due to their positioning.
They stops abruptly and JD would have knocked into the guy if his pace were just a little more brisk. Crisis averted, though- his sneakers scuff the ground as he slouches. His mouth twitches and the corners pull up ever so slightly. "You've had an awful lil day but I'm handsome?" His voice lilts playfully, if not incredulously, before he chuckles. "You're hardly in my way, mon ami. I've been, eh, following you, I suppose...?"
Moving right along.
"So, you missed lunch, huh? That sucks. Are you... hmm." He pauses, teeth digging into his lower lip as his gaze flicks over the worker, taking in his attire. "You on break now, or...?"
"I'd take you out for something if you got time. They got some great stuff at the shop stands- you know, with the festival and everything. The takoyaki is kinda to die for, if you're into that sorta thing."
open to:Ā everyoneĀ location:Ā Got You Covered bookstore
The musty scent of aged paper and leather bindings filled Tao's nostrils as he stretched on his tiptoes, fingers grazing the spine of the elusive book. Just a bit more, he thought, muscles straining. The rickety wooden stepladder creaked ominously beneath him.
"Come on, you stubborn git," he muttered, his crisp British accent clipped with frustration. His fingertips brushed the book's edge, nearly grasping it.
Tao, a lean man appearing in his late twenties with tousled black hair and sharp brown eyes, wore a simple white t-shirt and dark jeans. A silver dragon-shaped bracelet glinted on his wrist as he reached for the book.
A sudden rumble filled the air as books tumbled from the shelves. Tao ducked instinctively, throwing his arms over his head. Heavy volumes pelted his shoulders and back, their sharp corners digging into his skin. Pages fluttered around him in a paper storm, rustling like startled birds. The rickety ladder swayed beneath his feet, creaking ominously with each impact.
"Oh, bollocks!" he exclaimed, gripping the shelf to steady himself.
A pained groan echoed from the other side of the bookcase. Tao's stomach dropped. Someone had been hit.
He scrambled down the ladder, nearly tripping over fallen books in his haste. "I'm so sorry!" he called out, rounding the corner of the shelf. "Are you alright?"
JD leans an elbow against the shelf as he flips through the pages of a cookbook that he has absolutely no intentions or purchasing or utilizing. It's hardcover, hefty, and the contents consist almost entirely of tooth-rotting desserts. He licks his lips as he scans each page, tongue prodding idly at one of his canines. The speed at which he flips the pages might indicate that he's taking in the pictures more than he is reading the actual recipes.
There's someone on the other side of the shelf; someone that he is content to ignore.
His lack of consideration proves to be a mistake.
Books rain from the heavens, or maybe just from the shelf, and JD is too stunned to react to the sudden turn of events. He wobbles, much like the shelf, and he loses his footing. He's too slow to brace himself; a hefty tome hits his face even as he falls to the floor. He inhales sharply and winces, only belatedly managing to throw an arm over his head. His cookbook is lost to the newly created disaster area, hidden amongst a sea of paper and other books.
He's still for entirely too long. The avalanche ends but all he can do is gingerly rub his fingers across the bridge of his nose and beneath his eye. It's going to bruise, surely, if the dull pain throbbing in his face is anything to go by. He hardly notices his own vocalizations, a miserable groan that should really be confined to the walls of his own apartment.
"Sorry," he responds automatically, his voice a bit of a drawl. He scans the mess around him before glancing up; the corners of his eyes crinkle as he offers a tentative smile. "It's, ah... Oh. Yeah, I'm good. You?" His chest trembles with a silent chuckle and he rakes a hand through his unruly hair. "I was reading something," he mumbles, almost more to himself than anyone else. "But it's..." He trails off, biting back a grimace as he shakes his head dismissively.
It's seemingly a herculean effort to push himself up; he rests his palms on his knees, draws circles in the fabric of his gray sweats with his thumbs, adjusts his t-shirt in a way that stretches the collar a bit awkwardly. It almost seems like he'd rather sprawl out on the floor than ever get up again but finally, finally, he stands.
"Quite a mess we've got here, huh, pal?" Though he phrases it as a question it's more of a statement. His dark eyes flick between the man before him and the surrounding chaos. "You think this is a you break it, you buy it situation or more of a painstakingly put everything back where it belongs type of deal?"
Were they really about to discuss weather at a bar? He sure hoped that they weren't. He would have rather been at home by himself at that point watching reality trash television. "Yeah? I tend to regret a lot of things that I do in my life so that's a given." He smirked. "Are we really about to talk about the weather? I mean...don't get me wrong, we can...that just seems like a very boring and dry conversation." He wasn't trying to be rude, he was simply trying to change the subject of the conversation before he fell asleep on the man quite literally. That would have been for an interesting interaction and for their first meeting at that.
"It doesn't. I think the people that created the concept of time were on some types of shroom they foraged and thought it would be this great idea. When really they failed to grasp that time would become one of our greatest enemies." He concluded as he downed the rest of his drink before motioning the bartender to make him another.
"I couldn't agree more my friend. And I think I'm trying to figure out what I want to do with the rest of my time in this world."
Fingers still drumming along the polished wooden counter, JD's smile widens just a fraction. He raises his shoulders ever so slightly, an approximation of a shrug. He has something to say, he really does- he's been here a while, he's not entirely sure if the sun's gone down yet, he's genuinely curious about the state of the outside world- but he swallows the words like they're just another drink. It doesn't make for good conversation, that much is true, and so his smile turns a touch apologetic. He runs his free hand through his unruly hair, a lazy attempt to tuck it behind his ear, but it isn't meant to be. Dark strands shroud nearly half his face.
Back to the more palatable topic, he adjusts the way he leans his elbows on the bar. "You think they were on shrooms and coming up with the concept of time is the best they could do?" He hums thoughtfully, considering. He raises a hand to his face almost absently and runs his fingers along his jawline. "Rough trip," he concludes listlessly, failing to withhold a soft sigh. "It's supposed to be more fun than that, huh? What's the point if you don't get to talk shop with the God masquerading as a raccoon and he gives you the best damn advice you'll never remember?" His gaze softens as he speaks, almost looking wistful as he surveys the man beside him.
The lapse in vulnerability shatters all at once and his smile sharpens yet again.
"That's an awful lot to figure out all at once, mon ami," he murmurs, "might need more than one drink for that one. Hell, might need more than one trip to the bar..."
"Me? I've got nothin'," he continues dutifully, as if it were asked of him. He exudes confidence despite his lazy stature, all but draped over the bar. "I'll be here, though. Like, right here." He nods as if to indicate his seat. "So maybe you can let me know when you figure all that out for yourself, yeah?"

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Keegan wasnāt much for idle chit chat, but without it, he wasnāt going to make friends or connections with the people around him in this town. He figured heād bite the bullet and step out of his comfort zone a bit. Home was always going to be there and so was his familiar Pearl. He could sit and relax for an hour at least before dipping out and becoming an enigma once again.
āAtta boy.ā A smile grazed his lips as he followed the others motions by taking a long sip of his now decorative cocktail. āIn a few years we might say, life is too short? Who knowsā¦I think time is a fragment of our imagination.ā He shrugged softly.
āNo need to apologize. Iām not one for sitting in silence. Itās not my favorite thing.ā It was true. He wasnāt much into chatting in general but he didnāt like complete silence either. It was his own little complexity.
Despite what social niceties might dictate, JD raises his glass again just shortly after setting it down. He tips it towards his companion- another cheers, I'll drink to that- before taking another sip. The bastardized cocktail is running on empty and the ice clatters as he sets it down for the second time. He nudges the stranded umbrella rather impassively as he surveys the man beside him out of the corner of his eye.
"You might come to regret those words, partner," his voice lilts into a bit of a southern twang, and the inflection doesn't sound all that different from his attempt at French. He tips an imaginary hat and can only hope that it's evident that he's aiming for cowboy impersonation rather than coming off as an asshole. His smile is crooked but subdued, lips pulled back just enough to give a glimpse of his teeth. "How about that weather, huh? Sun still out?" He glances down momentarily, gaze lingering on his wrist just long enough to conclude that it is, indeed, bare. He straightens somewhat, instead electing to scan the walls in search of a clock. It doesn't occur to him that two taps to his phone could easily procure the current time.
"I gotta agree with you, though," he continues, the lazy drawl of his voice still quite pronounced. "About time... it's always felt like more of a construct than anything real. Sure, the sun goes down every evening, but what does that really mean? What does a star that big care about our concept of hours and minutes and days and months and years...? It's nonsense."
He drums his fingers soundlessly against the counter. "Life's only too short if you've got things you wanna do. Or stuff you gotta take care of." His shoulders slump as ultimately gives up on the notion of locating a clock. His attention slides back to the man beside him, watching with muted interest as he tries to determine if he's been successfully bored half to death.
Thinking he was alone, he lifted his gaze to the stranger next to him. It wasn't everyday that someone offered him a little floaty umbrella at a bar. It was amusing to him though to say the least. "Might as well make it more festive. Sure why not." He shrugged gently as his fingers lightly brushed amongst the others hand while taking the umbrella for him and putting it into his drink when the bartender was done making it for him. "Perfect finishing touch."
It wasn't uncommon for Keegan to feel out of place in public, he would have much preferred to be at home with his familiar Pearl, but he knew that he needed to get out of the house every once in a while or he would go mad.
"Long day?" Keegan inquired as he took a sip of his drink before averting his attention back to the other.
JDās lips curve just the slightest amount, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards into a subdued smile. He inclines his head just enough to catch the stranger in his peripherals as he takes a long sip of his drink. He squints preemptively, but the red parasol poses no threats to his eyes. This time.Ā
āI'll drink to that,ā he says belatedly, chin dipping in a nearly imperceptible nod. His fingers linger on the glass after setting it down, index tracing slowly around the rim. The umbrella is dragged along for the ride.Ā
The anxiety that blooms in the base of his skull over this idle chatter is easily masked by the alcohol already coursing through his system. āLong day,ā he echoes with a sigh, ālong week, long month⦠long life. Everythingās long. What's up with that?ā He chuckles softly, corners of his eyes crinkling as his gaze dips from his new companion to the yellow umbrella now decorating his drink. His lips curve further upwards into a more definitive smile. āForgive me,ā he murmurs, āfor my stream of consciousness. You can cut this conversation short if you want to drink in peace, eh?ā Thereās a glint in his eye, a sparkle of amusement, and his shoulders tremble with silent laughter.Ā