pineslog | oh well I saw you at the doctor's, waiting for a test

Entry tags:

oh well I saw you at the doctor's, waiting for a test

Who: Aranea Highwind, ???
Where: various
When: May
What: A catch-all
Warnings: none – will update if needed
[Open]

[ Early in the month, her time is taken up by finally setting up the... surprising stock that was delivered to Britches and Hose. She makes an effort to keep things tasteful, at least; shuffling of shelves and the addition of a folding screen to section off the collection of sex toys from the rest of the merchandise, so that people who are just there for pajamas or a sports bra don't suddenly get an eyeful of more than they bargained for. It's a display area more than anything else; one of everything on the shelves, all numbered so people can make a discreet request at the counter and have it brought to them if they're feeling shy. Further into the month the class factor is probably lowered at least a little by the proprietor's black eye, the angry purple-red of it shading through blue and green to a sickly yellow as it heals, like the world's crappiest mood ring.

After the Mayor's little announcement, the accompanying memories, and one very busy day for those trying to keep the network clean of subversion, she leaves the store to her staff more frequently. On those days she's in the bookstore, with an increasing look of frustration as she searches through books and publication dates, with occasional glances to a plasticky card she keeps mostly tucked into shoulder bag. Looking for something and clearly not finding it. Or very occasionally just at home, where anyone who comes calling might catch a glimpse of the cb radio she hauls out occasionally to flick through the channels and find – so far – nothing of importance. But on the days she's in the store, a small sign appears in suggestive proximity to the Official Notices:

Questions? We're happy to talk.

The rest of her time is given to checking in with people she knows. Social calls, except that the most likely topic of conversation is that something in this town is rotten and the stink is starting to be unavoidable. ]

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[ She's not nervous. There's no reason to be, right? It's catching up with a friend from home. It'd be weirder not to talk to him, to treat the fact that he's moved out like the end of an actual marriage instead of two people dealing appropriately with their situation. So she does a little shopping on the way home, picks up a couple of steaks and some salad in case he stays long enough for dinner, comforts herself with the idea that there's beer in the fridge and then doubles back to pick up some soda because Prompto isn't of drinking age.

Okay, maybe it's a little weird.

She feels better after getting home and stowing the food. A hot shower and a change of clothes, and it's all starting to feel pretty normal by the time she hears a knock on the door. ]

( aranea mightn't be nervous, sure, but prompto most definitely is; the voicemail caught him completely by surprise, bringing with it a little thrill that he can't quite place - or so he thinks.

there's still the last vestiges of light in the sky when he finally does make it to the house, a twitchy sensation under his skin when he takes the steps up a too-familiar pathway, and prompto spends the next five minutes psyching himself up - no more, because he's sure the chocobo chick wants out of the backpack by now considering she's been in it for far longer than she was meant to - before adjusting his grip on the small bunch of flowers he picked up from the florists' on the way and knocking.

clearly he's psyched himself up too much nonetheless, though, because the moment the door cracks open it all comes rushing out in a breath he never even knew he was holding: ) Uh - hey! Sorry I'm late, I, um. Had to go grab somethin' before I came over and actually dropped by the store t'look for you 'cause you said you closed up at five and to come over at six and I thought you wanted to meet, like, at the store after you packed up and all that but I got there and it was shut so I was so lucky I'd brought my bike along and I think Miss Fluffles just really wants to get out of her carrier now, I hope she hasn't made a mess in there or anything --

( HOPEFULLY HE'S NOT SOMEHOW AT THE WRONG HOUSE BECAUSE THIS'D BE REALLY EMBARRASSING. )

Oh, shit. Yeah, that could've been clearer. C'mon in. Free the beast.

[ Whoops. But he's rambling, which is enough to make her smile, and when she spots the flowers her smile quirks up into grin in spite of herself. She's never really thought of herself as a bring-me-flowers kind of person, but she's touched anyway. ]

Trying to butter me up in case Miss Fluffles craps on me again?

( welp, it's the right house. sure is a relief, and it shows on his face clear as day. ) Yeah - I mean no! I -- it's just... something I thought I'd get... Um. It's really not much, but here. ( the posy he offers is a delicate little thing of cornflowers and daisies wrapped in twine, handing it over before proceeding to unshoulder the backpack that's become the little bird's makeshift carrier. none too worse for wear apart from a few ruffled feathers, the chick shakes herself off and chirps. ) She's gotten a lot better about where she does her, er - y'know.

Shut up, they're great. I'm gonna put them in water.

[ She's so gracious. But they are great - they're very Prompto, and she ends up scrubbing at the end of her nose with the back of her hand like that's going to hide her smile. She moves through to the kitchen, and while whoever stocked the house had thought to include vases, she sets them in an empty glass jar instead with a little feeling of defiance. Then more water in a shallow dish for the chocobo which she sets on the floor, and - ]

Want something to drink? Got soda, orange juice... beer if you're having a fuck the man kind of day.

[ She's not that worried. After her scrap with Nyx and her visit from the Sheriff, she has a feeling the town's law-related priorities aren't focused on underage drinking. ]

( "shut up, they're great" just colors his already pale complexion a dusty pink in an instant; direct, yes, but it isn't like prompto's expecting any less from the dragoon to start with. fortunately for aranea, her little smile goes unseen as prompto immediately drops into a crouch next to the chocobo; retrieving a small bag from another compartment of the backpack so he can busy his hands with some seeds for the chick to peck at in his palm, he's hoping furiously that his flush isn't too noticeable. ) Oh! Yeah, sure - whatever you're having?

[ That's a beer, then. She flips the lids off two bottles before she moves back to hand one to him, too impressed with the fact that he's feeding the chocobo out of his hand to pay much attention to his blush. Those things have bigass beaks even in miniature, and the calm way he offers the seeds combined with how relaxed she is about taking them says a lot about the bond he's formed with her.

And honestly, it's fucking adorable. ]

She really trusts you, huh?

Thanks -- ( thank the six for small miracles; aranea's focus shifts to the chocobo and so does prompto's own, his self-consciousness evaporating in an instant. ) I think most of it probably comes from us visiting her at Wiz's a lot. Then again, we weren't there every day... maybe every other day? Now she sees me all the time. Sits next to me on the couch too, sometimes, but if I end up falling asleep on it she just bails and I find her in her basket in the morning. ( a pause for a mouthful of beer, then the gunner sets his bottle down on the floor next to him. )

You should drop by the post too if you have the time, when we get back home. She'd be happy t'see you!

[ Oh, ouch. Admittedly Aranea's focus after everything went dark had been on people, not birds, but if the chocobos came out of it okay -

well, hell. Maybe with people like Prompto around they stand a shot. She reaches out to stroke over the feathers at the top of the bird's head and promises herself that if they do get back? First thing she's gonna do is take the ship out to the chocobo post. If the birds somehow aren't nugget dinners for daemons by then, Prompto's getting a surprise delivery. ]

Yeah. I'll check it out.

[ It's not a lie. But it's a little too close for her to want to follow that particular thread of conversation. ]

You got dinner plans? I have steak.

Really? ( whenever prompto helps out at the restaurant he eats there, but ignis' taken the opportunity to train him up for that odd occasion where he'd end up having to cook for himself - probably just to make sure he doesn't come back to a house on fire. ) Aaah, steak sounds amazing - and I can help, if y'haven't started! Learned a few things while working in the restaurant. Nothing fancy, but they've worked fine so far.

I'm gonna take you up on that. Buying dinner's about all the prep I usually do, so I could probably use it.

[ And hey, if he learned from Ignis he'll probably do just fine. As far as she's concerned the only way you can fuck up a steak is overcooking it. ]

Well, steak's pretty straightforward - just gotta season it right. ( and he's not really an expert on it just yet, but he's getting there. ) You know... before this - this stuff with where we are, I couldn't make anything in the kitchen to save my life. Guess Iggy ending up here with us was for the best. Maybe one day we'll have a cookoff or something.

[ Her laugh is hoarse and low, but genuinely pleased. The journey of self-improvement continues, apparently. ]

You know you're my favorite, but my money's gonna be on four-eyes for that one. Even if the student outpaces the master, he's totally not above sabotage.

I'm your - ( if anyone else takes a glance at him they'd probably be wincing in sympathy from the look of his sunburn alone - except it isn't a burn at all; just the blush colouring his cheeks and spreading down his neck that has deepened beyond all levels of subtlety. ) Um. Yeah. Haha, I probably couldn't uh. Win or anything but a guy can dream, right -

[ If she were a better person, she might feel bad about the violent blush. She's not. It wasn't a calculated comment, but she's more pleased by the reaction to it than she'd be willing to admit. So she takes a swig of beer, and ever so gently bumps him with her shoulder. ]

Hey, if you never have a dream you'll never have a dream come true.

So what are the chances I've already got what we need to make this steak work? If it's salt, we're in luck.

[ It isn't often that Ignis takes the time to visit Aranea in her place of work, Ignis preferring that they meet up over coffee and away from where they could disturb customers. But then it isn't all that often that Ignis sees a sign in the window pointing out that they were "happy to talk" and with that he makes a quick calculation before realizing that he can spare an hour before work sets itself on fire.

The store gets a cursory glance around, Ignis noting how things have moved around whereas other things have stayed put. It seemed that change was on the horizon whether they liked it or not and he wonders if that's an omen for anything in this strange place or not. Doubtful. Flits of fancy aren't his style and Ignis takes another quick look around before speaking up. They weren't really cousins, Ignis knows that much but at the same time those fake memories are still there and right now it's better to keep allies than make enemies.]

Aranea?

[ She's futzing around behind the screen when she hears his voice, and it's only by a very narrow margin that she overcomes the urge to step out with a handful of dildo to greet him. Gratitude for his help with the climb, probably; chances are she'd have fallen on the way down without his steadying attention. So she's armed only with a smile -- small but warm, genuine enough to crinkle around her bruised eye -- when she steps out. ]

Ignis. Hey. What's up?

[ Of all the things Ignis is expecting, it's not seeing Aranea sporting a shiner of that capacity. It certainly hadn't been there when he'd last seen his cousin slash not cousin and there's a brief flicker of concern before Ignis schools his expression back into as neutral a one he can muster.

Maybe it's just best to get rid of the behemoth in the room.]

Should we be concerned about the other guy?

[ She doesn't resent the question, exactly - she'd be looking for an ass to kick if he or Prompto showed up similarly bruised - but it's a whole can of worms that leads to a lot she's not ready to talk about. Knowing something tragic about someone that they don't know yet? Fucking sucks. ]

He's still alive enough to regret it, don't worry. C'mon, you know if I had a body to hide you'd be the first call I made.

[Nyx had never stepped into Britches and Hose before. Being single, and not interested in wearing lingerie, it had never held any appeal. He didn't want to be known as a creep, either. In a small town like this word travels like a Glaive's knife and it would be just his luck that someone got the wrong idea.

But he owes the owner and the sign invites conversation, even if he's not planning on discussing its intended topic.

He pushes through the door, a nondescript bag in hand, and looks around for Aranea. If she's busy he'll browse around, meandering until she's not with a customer.]

[ She's finishing up with a customer, reassuring an older woman about her purchase - "what's important is that you feel good in it" - which is probably all that stops her from cursing in mild surprise when she spots him. But with the negligee tucked into a bag and Mrs Whatsherface on her way out the door, Aranea nods to Nyx with curiosity far outweighing trepidation. ]

Hey.

[He turns, raising a curious eyebrow in the other woman's wake as she leaves. Move of the people in this town seem like they'd be scandalized at even the idea of wearing fancy underwear, but it seems they're intent on surprising him.] Busy?

[Nyx holds out the bag as a peace offering, a bottle of booze tucked inside wrapped in paper.] I couldn't remember what your favourite was. Figured I'd just get something expensive and hope for the best. [After all, how much of "Ara" was based on who Aranea really was?]

[ Well that's a godsdamned relief. Learning that they hadn't really been postwar buddies hadn't diminished her affection for him, but learning that they'd been on opposite sides? That was a fuck of a thing. She hadn't given up hope - she almost never does - but her life to date has been enough to teach her that hope is something you tuck away somewhere safe while you deal with reality. So she grins at him, peers into the bag, and - ]

Aw, you did remember my favourite.

Free.

[ And she holds one finger up to him in a signal to wait just a moment, disappears into the stockroom and comes back with two water glasses, each of which gets a healthy measure sloshed into it. She pushes one towards him, and raises her own. ]

We good?

[He toasts her glass, laughing a little. He feels lighter now that he's not actively fighting against someone he considers a good friend, despite their histories.]

I'm sorry.

[Away from the situation, the anger, and the memories, Nyx can say that sincerely. It took him, like, three weeks, but hopefully this means she forgives him.]

[ Well, shit. She takes a sip that turns into more of a swig; fortifying, maybe. It's a relief to have it out, but even more of one not to feel like she's thrown something special away with a careless comment. Still... ]

Me too. For whatever that's worth.

[ Not a king, that's for fucking sure. Not cities, not somebody's whole life. But something. ]

[How about a future? He'd fucked up, forgot his own purpose for moving forward, which is funny in a town where a future is all you have at first. He can drink to making sure they all get one.]

It used to be worth a lot to the Glaive.

[ She's not looking for validation - generally doesn't care about getting anyone's but her own - but that means a lot to hear. ]

It's gonna take a lot of turning around, but when we figure out how to get back I'm picking up right where I left off.

[ Although that does raise... other questions. ]

So before I saw the error of my ways [ and there's sarcasm just dripping off that, thick and tinged with anger - at the empire, at the Chancellor, at the whole damn mess - ] I used to get dossiers on people to watch out for. Seems like someone with your skill should have been in them.

[Give him a moment while he drains this glass and tries to figure out how to say this without saying it.]

Most anyone on that side would have known is what my armor looked like, if my name didn't ring any bells. I was the asshole with the purple cloth. After everything? You could say I was no longer a threat.

[ Purple cloth rings a bell, but it's a faint one. That actually makes it easier to put together. She hadn't started really paying attention until after the fall, when "you stuck me hunting demons, remember?" stopped being an excuse for not knowing the names and faces associated with everyone linked to the royal family. Combine that with his obvious loyalty and no longer a threat, and - ]

Well, fuck.

[ It's a huge stretch, but not as much as it might have been if she hadn't seen Ignis with his sight, or heard Prompto talk about Noctis in a way that suggests he's unaware of the kid-king's disappearance. It's still enough to prompt her to drain her glass in kind. ]

So... a very permanent honorable discharge?

[He chuckles. It's humourless, but he doesn't seem too beat up about it.]

There are only two ways to retire from that way and I had the misfortune to encounter both.

[Neither side had any moral high ground, to be honest.]

[ That's no more than what she expected, give the context, but it's still a fuck of a thing to hear. Not just because of what it tells her about what he went through, but because of what it implies about what whoever's running this place can do.

She tops off both glasses, business hours be damned. ]

And now you're here. That's gonna be a story to tell the grandkids. Any idea how it goes?

[At least they're classy enough to be using glasses. If he'd have been at home he'd be drinking straight from the bottle.]

Not a damn clue. I haven't seen so much as a potion since I woke up, much less a phoenix down, and I know my magic's not capable of it. I'll have to make something up to tell those grandkids, else they'll get bored halfway into the story.

[Grandkids. There's a possibility he never entertained before. Is it bad that a part of him doesn't even want to know what the powers that be are hiding? It's a small part, the part that wanted a family and a peaceful life, but it didn't die with his home all those years ago.]

[ Please, Nyx, she's running a classy establishment here. What would the customers think? ]

The more I learn about this place, the less I know. I don't like it. But at least it's not all bad.

You hear of anyone else in the same position?

[No worse than they already do, he's sure. You sell only the classiest of lingerie and accessories.]

A few others. There's been questions left unanswered for many of my friends. A lot of us shouldn't just be walking around.

[The way Aranea is searching would be more than enough reason to strike up a conversation—Lunafreya spent a lot of time reading and researching as well, but getting to know the people here was just as important to her as learning what she could about this place, so sating her curiosity and chatting her up would have been an easy thing to do regardless.

But before she can even say anything, the face gives her pause. It's familiar, and unlike all the previous times when she felt like she knew a face but couldn't remember how she knew it... She knows this one. And she knows why she knows it.]

Excuse me... [She isn't afraid of whatever reaction Aranea might have to her, but she isn't sure what to expect nonetheless. She might not even remember her at all.] It's been some time, hasn't it?

[If she didn't remember, it was fine. That would be enough for her to know that she probably should, eventually.]

[ It shouldn't come of as much as a surprise at it does. She's seen Ignis miraculously not-blind, after all, and talked to Prompto enough to figure out that his last memory of home is from a lot earlier than hers. Still, it's a hell of a thing to see the Oracle alive and kicking instead of... well, stabbed and drowned, or whatever.

Still, she's had years of making good money out of keeping the shock off her face when shocking things happen. There's a brief blink and a slight lift of her eyebrows before she smiles and gives a little bow that's basically just a slight incline of her head, somehow sarcastic and utterly genuine in the same motion. ]

Lady Lunafreya. Always a pleasure.

[ It's in the same dry drawl that she says anything these days, with the notable exception that she means it. ]

The pleasure is mine, Ms. Highwind. [She'd address her by her title, but... Well, they ~weren't supposed to talk about he past~ and all. Much as she didn't care about getting into trouble, she'd at least put a little effort into not getting caught speaking openly with someone else. There was no need to drag her down, too.

On the other hand, though her own words lack the sarcasm, how much of a pleasure it truly is would be up for debate. She recognized Aranea, but she didn't know her well enough to know where they stood.] I apologize, I had no idea that you were here.

[It was good to know there were others, Empire or not.]

You have no idea what a relief it is to hear someone call me that. But Aranea's fine. And don't sweat it.

[ When will she stop being mad about the Sheriff calling her "Mrs Argentum"? No time soon, that's for sure. But seeing Lunafreya takes a little of the sting out of the way things have been going so far - it makes the fact that she'd chosen not to tell anyone about the other woman's death seem a lot less important. It raises a lot of other questions, though. Whether she's been here long enough to get her memories back, whether she knows. Hard things to ask in front of cameras. Unless - ]

Hey, I heard you were in an accident. That true? How long ago?

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oh well I saw you at the doctor's, waiting for a test

for Prompto

slides in here finally

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shop

eyyyy

yooo

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ten thousand years late

good thing there's no starbucks

Nyx would have walked in with two of the most ridiculous fraps

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bookstore!

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