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

[unweaving]

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. ]

Comments

[failtography]

( 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.

[unweaving]

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. ]

[failtography]

( "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?

[unweaving]

[ 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?

[failtography]

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!

[unweaving]

[ 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.

[failtography]

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.

[unweaving]

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. ]

[failtography]

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.

[unweaving]

[ 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.

[failtography]

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 -

[unweaving]

[ 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.