Mavis' rolls up to World's a Part, backs into a parking space, and cuts off her engine. Immediately, the roaring 90's music blasting from her radio speakers dies and the door to Mavis' rusty, lime-green Ford Ranger creaks opened. Out hopes the dusky-skinned mortal, dressed for the weather. Scarf, hat, fingerless gloves, jacket zipped over her hoodie, and bumblebee striped legging peeking out from behind the thread-bared knees of her blue jeans. She has some greasy, fast food bags packed and heavy with food clutched in her left fist, which she holds out as she turns to slap her truck door with a whine of the old hinges.
Once the music cuts out, it's replaced by...nothing. The junkyard is remarkably quiet, the only real noise being the sign spitting in the damp air and the groan of metal within. Widget isn't even there. Except for the gate being open there's not much sign of anyone.
Hm. Quiet.
The mortal stands there for a few seconds, listening to... nothing. Hadn't Audra warned her of the dogs? She had. Mavis just shrugs to herself, leans against the driver's door of her truck, and rummages through the white, paper bag of fast food for something to snack on. A hashbrown is drawn out, the bag set on the hood of the truck while the engine popped and cooled, and half-shoved into her mouth with the paper sleeve still on the other end. She doesn't bite into it, not yet, because Mavis recalls something very important. The drinks were still in the truck!
Mavis hauls the door open again, grabbing the hashbrown in her mouth and tearing off a bite as she collects two big sodas.
Hug! From behind. At high velocity. It's a Widget, no doubt brought out by the smell of food and potential customer. But Widget knew that truck! It's a good one, old and storied and rusted through labor.
Still quiet, even though all of a dogs are out. A lot of them. Big, angry, haggard junkyard pups. The imp hasn't done anything too crazy with them, but the largest have actual armor. Like...metal armor.
Luckily they're all sitting right at the gate line, whining a bit as they watch the small dumb thing to tells them what to do go outside the safe zone. Small dumb thing is what fills the food bowls.
Arms eel around Mavis' waist as she's bent into the truck, reaching for the two big cups of soda. She tenses, at first, but then realizes who that must be and laughs. That laugh is cut off as the mortal stuffs the rest of the hashbrown in her mouth, gulping it down in two bites, and tossing the trash into the floorboard. She'd pick it up later.
Mavis grabs the cups and squirms back out of her truck, not trying to break out of Widget's embrace, and her arms slide over the imp's shoulders with a giant soda in each hand.
"Hey," she chimes. "I brought breakfast. Do you want a Mountain Dew or a Mountain Dew?" Mavis jerks her chin at the bag on top of the truck's hood. "Food's right there. Wasn't sure what to get so I grabbed some breakfast burritos and a bunch of those hashbrown things." While she talks, her honey-brown eyes scan the fence lined with dogs, pausing on the one's wearing.. armor? Yep. That's Widget for ya, though.
Widget is so excited she's practically vibrating, giving Mavis a squeeze before releasing her. For food purposes! "Yes." All of it. All of iiiiit. The gremlin fishes out a burrito, ripping it out of the paper and taking a giant bite. Aw yiss. So good.
Swallow. Inhale.
"You came! Yes! So happy! Um. Umumumum. Want to see stuff? Have a trailer! And a shop! Full bay with tooling? And dogs! Hi, dogs!"
One of the older-looking dogs whurfs, the rest receding into the yard once it's clear small rusty thing isn't going to be killed. Hi indeed.
"...Think they like me!"
"There's, uh," goes Mavis while watching Widget tear into the breakfast. "Ketchup and spicy picante sauce in the bag."
Mavis then edges over to the bag grab a burrito for herself before all of the food disappeared down Widget's gullet. She plucks the straws for their drinks out, too, and stabs one into each lid before offering Widget one of the Dews. "Here," she says, eying the dogs as they trudge off into the junkyard.
"Uhh, yeah. They sure do," she tells Widget, sounding unsure. Mavis really couldn't get a read on the pack of junkyard dogs, because she has exactly 0 Animal Ken. She asks Widget, quietly and like the dogs might hear her, "Are you sure they don't bite?"
Mavis pulls her phone out of her pocket and shoots off a quick text before re-pocketing it.
Ooooh, sauce please. A lot of it. Entirely too much, along with everything else. Wash it down with some Dew later. She really liked that stuff, whatever it was. Widget's contracts just told her it was a bunch of chemicals she didn't know the name of.
The gremlin walks towards the gate, putting her weight against it and slooowly opening it a bit more with a shriek of metal. "Wait here."
What follows is sounds of furious food consumption, barks, more barks, something being thrown, and then odd and varied mechanical sounds. "...There! Traps are safe!" Back out of the corrugated sheet walls into view, Widget tilting her head.
"Bite? Oh. Yes! Sometimes! Worse before. Had to kill one. But alpha now!" Y-yeah... Alpha. Short, skinny, rusty Widget. Maybe she just tastes bad. "Like this!"
Oh, wow, that is a /nasty/ bite mark. Right there on the torso where she lets down her suit. Weirdly healed, though. Just bruised and red, now."
Mavis slowly unwraps her burrito and takes a bite, numbly chewing the food while Widget is gone. She sets her Mountain Dew on the hood of the truck and pushes the door closed a bit gentler this time. In the few minutes that Widget is gone, Mavis retrieves her phone to send another text off to Amity just in case-- y'know-- she dies in there. When Widget returns telling her about the traps, Mavis just opens her mouth and stares at her like she's about to say something but those words had run off on her.
"Traps?" Had she heard Widget right? "Geez, Widget. I dunno. Amity would be really mad at both of us if, uhhhhhhhh, /either/ of us got hurt today." She's remembering Carter's warnings about this place and the way Audra, usually so poised and collected, had shuddered when telling her about it. Mavis peers uncertainly at the gate the same way she had the storm drain that Widget tried to get her to follow her into that first day they'd met.
"Not gonna get hurt. Have shoes. Traps are done. Dogs are gone. Yes! Trust me!" Well, Widget does look like she at least /thinks/ she knows what she's talking about. And really wants Mavis inside for some reason. She doesn't even have the food anymore, look close to just tugging on Mavis.
"Be fun? Have snacks?" Oh! Ohohoh! "And consoles! With video games! Real ones!"
Mavis shoots Widget a hard stare, black brows furrowing and dusky, pink lips pursing. Finally, she sighs, "All right, all right," then takes a big bite out of her burrito and reclaims her Mountain Dew cup. She WAS wearing her sturdy, black work boots spattered with paint. The mortal offers quickly wolfs down her burrito and offers Widget her arm, speaking through a mouthful. "Leffs 'oo." Let's go. "Ei-truff-'ew." I trust you.
Widget seems genuinely touched at that, linking arms and proudly leading Mavis through the gate. It's not hard to see the remnants of traps along the walls and gate, wires leading current, bear traps hidden under thin sheet plastic, that sort of thing. Crude and mean but very much effective. The dogs are watching close. Intelligently.
The feel is...off. Everything seems a tad bit more artificial than it should be. No moss. No ivy. The air smells like rust and burned plastic and oil and industrial grime, not something a near-derelict yard should be. It's like the mechanical has enforced it's will.
"Where first? Trailer. Bay. Shop. Office! Yes."
Mavis lets her arm be taken and she chews down the rest of her food, pocketing the trash with some hesitation. She didn't really like the idea of having a scrap of paper in her pocket that smelled tasty with those dogs around, but Widget HAD assured her and reassured her and, okay, fine. This roller coaster ride didn't look safe, but Mavis would get on it anyway. She was that if she didn't then Widget's hopes would be dashed forever more.
The mortal's attention leaps onto the traps when they pass through the gate and she looks around, bewildered. Her head turns, neck craning, and after a moment she just murmurs the last thing she'd heard Widget say.
"Yeah.. Yeah- the office." She nods and gulps from the straw poked into her drink. Her mouth was suddenly very dry. "Sure, sounds good."
Widget enters the shop.
Widget leads Mavis to the sliding steel doors. It's close enough to the stacks that whatever Widget works on can be seen. They're everywhere. Hacked-together contructs of old signage and sheet steel, hung with garlands of teeth and barbed wire. Animal-skeletons rendered in rebar, feathers and fur cut from carpet and discarded plastic. None of them are moving, none of them even look close to complete, but they're there, sleeping.
As they approach the bay, the mudane becomes...arcane? Inhuman? A mandala of sawblades, etched by hand. Clockwork in an unsorted pile, still ticking, the inner workings shifting and scraping under a tattered tarp. A pile of brass casings, light shifting wrong against their scuffed surfaces.
When she finally hauls up the bay, she wouldn't blame Mavis for being scared. When the gremlin walks among the stacks, weaves through the junk, she talks to the place. To her, it's alive. It's talking to her, singing, moving, planning, breathing.
Is it? Widget seems to think so. But she also seems to think she's alpha. At leas the bay looks safe. It's got a wall covered in good new tooling, another covered in pinups and centrefolds, and another leading deeper into the shop. A very sad-looking tow truck is there, looking like Widget's been trying to restore it. "In here!"
"Holy gnocchi," breathes Mavis as she's led further into the junkyard and towards the office. Her appraising, artist's eyes linger over the half-completed creatures and their mismatched materials. There's a bit of coveting in her gaze as she studies them. The scavenger in her wanted to salvage parts or jigsaw pieces of them together. The incomplete state of them was like an itch between her shoulder blades that she couldn't reach.
She peers back at Widget, curling her arm to snug the imp closer. "Did you make all of those?" she wonders, tilting her head to look down at her friend then she lets her go. The mortal follows along closely, although she doesn't wander the stacks with Widget. That seemed too precarious.
She startles when the imp directs her into the shop. Mavis had been standing there staring at the stacks of junk and thinking about the clockwork mechanisms she'd just seen. The dusky-skinned human turns to trudge into the shop, eyes falling on the old tow truck.
"Ooh, wow. What a beauty," she sighs, shifting her Mountain Dew to the crook of her elbow to walk over and run her hands over the frame.
Widget hugs Mavis back, happy to be close. It's cold! Also exciting. Enough that she's...purring? It's an undeniably mechanical sound, like a tiny engine somewhere in her torso. But not. Mavis's ears are different. Does she know what to look for, what to try and see? Maybe Widget is just weird. Goes with the fidgeting and flicking eyes. Trying to find neat stuff to point out.
Oh, yeah, like the giant truck. Widget runs her hand down the other side of it, nodding. "Yes. All of it. But not this. Going to make it work again. Yes. Too old. Too much work. To let it be parts." The gremlin crouches, looking at herself in rear-left hubcap. "Office is in there. Boring. Has a computer. And boring papers. Yes."
She doesn't know what to look for to spot a Changeling passing as human, but Mavis is growing ever more and more suspicious of Widget. All of the quirky, eccentric things she attributed to Widget being herself begin to take on a new glint. And is Widget purring? Her arms circle over the imp's shoulders with the ice in Mavis' Mountain Dew shaking around in the cup. She gives her a squeeze and smiles down in a curious "what's up?" sort of way then lets her go.
They both get back to admiring the truck, then Mavis glances off to the office where Widget indicates. After what she says about it being boring and full of papers, Mavis wonders, "Are we going in there?"
Widget colors a bit at the follow-up hug, Widget looking up with a smile that's just...really lame. It's a flustered and happy and more than a little nervous, kind of a distilled expression of "Is this okay? Is this cool?"
Which might be why she looks at the office with a small shuffle of her feet. "Can. Dunno...how it works. Papers with numbers. Oh! But!" Perk up! She forgot she made the changes! "Fridge! And good snacks! And a water machine! But no water. Beer now. Yes."
Mavis offers up a little laugh and goes, "Yeah?" when Widget nervouses if all of this was okay. She was used to the huggy imp and Amity always managed to magic the stains out of her clothes. Huh. Magic. Maybe she DID magic the stains away. She'd have to ask her girlfriend about that later. HRM!
"It's okay, I'm not great with papers and that stuff either," Mavis tells the imp. Then, she hums, "Mmh.. A little early for beer, methinks. And I've got to drive back, the roads are kinda icy." She could practically hear Amity disapproving of drinks at this time of day and driving back. She turns back to squint at Widget then turns around to leave against the tow truck. Mavis eyes Widget with a purpose, pinning the imp under the skeptical, human gaze.
"So," she preambles. "Amity told me something interesting the other day." Sip from her straw. Watching Widget over the cup she cradles. "You know that I didn't /TELL/ you outright that she's a pillow princess, right?" Her eyebrows shoot up. "I only told you what one WAS by definition." Because Widget had asked! "Make sure you tell Amity that too if she ever brings it up. I almost got in trouble."
"Oh okay, can.....um..." Widget wilts under Mavis's gaze, all fidgety and curled. It's kinda ugly. Someone /really/ doesn't like that look. But Widget doesn't lie, stuttering out her answer through a red face. Please don't hate her now!
"A-asked someone. But no names! Just...just...but..." Hrm. Widget just stops, waiting for something.
Mavis lets Widget squirm for a few seconds. Or, perhaps, she's just reading the imp's discomfort and gauging her honesty. Then she smiles and-- ohmy-- isn't it dazzling? Her pretty, white teeth flash and the millimeter gap between her incisors peers out between her grin.
"It's all right, Wij," she tells the imp, laughing and shaking her head. "Just don't get me tossed into the dog house with Amity, okay?" The mortal peers at Widget a moment longer, although it's not with the severity of before. This is a gentle imploring and she ducks her head a little to better get on Widget's level. She was a slight thing, after all. "So... lets figure out what to do. I want to check out some scrap 'fore I go," she'd brought her checkbook AND cash, "but I've got a couple of hours to kill."
"O-oh. Okay!" Widget smiles back, eyes flitting to Mavis's. It really was pretty! The gremlin doesn't have a pretty smile. Cute if you stretched it. Someone really needed to deal with those incisors.
"Widget leans closer. There's a bizarre tinge to her breath. Not bad, as much as entirely...weird. "Scrap?" Mavis might have well said gold. And she could share! Yes! Okay! "And can see the trailer! Have games! Fun ones! Mario Kart!"
She happened to think those pointy incisors were somewhat endearing. Sure, it'd be a painful bite, but in Widget's mouth those nearly-fangs were downright adorable. The mortal has to wonder if her friend's bite is, well, a bit poisonous when she catches the old, mechanical scent on Widget's breath. It wasn't foul or anything... just strange. She's reminded again of all the little, odd things about Widget as she offers out her arm not holding the Mountain Dew cup for her gremlin to seize again.
"Okay!" Sounds fun. "I wanna be Toad, though." She lets Widget lead her some ways, but then the human stops. Mavis studies Widget's face like she's looking for something and then she looks from one of the imp's eyes to the other. After a second, she declares simply, "You're Lost." Then. "Aren'tcha?"
Widget takes the arm, happy again, still thrumming away. It's weird seeing her so chipper. Yeah, she's manic a lot but this was genuine glee. Friends! And they want to see where she lives and trade and be so happy and just feels /wanted/ and this is just great and-
"L-lost?" It's a tiny squeak, the girl's eyes boggling to the size of dinner plates. "W-w-w-w-w-who...?" Oh, right. Amity. They'd talked about this. The genuine terror leaves her face, simple nerves jangling in her eyes. "...Yes. C-can show you. Inside. C'mon."
Widget zips off leaving Mavis to stand there blinking after her. After a couple of seconds, she gets to moving but the mortal doesn't run to catch up. When she finally does catch up, Mavis is trudging along at her usual pace and she steps into the trailer. Once inside, she finds a place to set down her cup in the kitchenette.
"This is cute," she tells Widget while glimpsing around. "Always loved these little airstreams." Her gaze lands on Widget and she smiles as if nothing at all strange were amiss. "So, I guess that's a yes. You are one of them." It doesn't sound like an accusation. Amity was right. Mavis had taken the whole "the supernatural is real" thing pretty gosh-darned well. Good for her. "What'd you want to show me?"
"Um. M-me?" Widget looks excited as much as she does scared. She's talking to a mortal who knows and isn't freaking out and actually seems like she might /like/ what the imp can do. "T-turn around? Dunno...if this works. Yes."
And there are consoles, nice ones. Old ones, but they're the classics. Nerd.
Mavis sighs, but does as she's bid. Widget miiiight get the impression that her mortal friend has taken this opportunity to roll her eyes, but the imp would never be able to prove it. Now that Mavis is inside of the trailer, she doesn't need all of her winter layers. She begins to strip off her hat, gloves, and jacket then looks for a place to hang them, all while keeping her back to the imp.
"Are you ready for me to look yet?" she asks, sounding a little impatient.
"Y-yes." It's a small voice, Widget shuddering as she feels her glamour go and her mask from. That...felt wrong. Really wrong. But it happened and Widget is herself.
Also naked, because that was a really good idea in her head. Why is kind of easy to understand. She has seams on her skin, like a bad automaton. They're everywhere. As is the rust, clinging to her skin and marring the color, hiding her scars. It's in her hair, too. Oddly wiry, it. Like, fine metallic wire.
Widget is trying to meet Mavis's gaze, eyes thin and downcast. They're glassy now, broken. Crackling and fizzling in the dim light of the trailer. That smell on her breath? Exhaust, that's obvious enough now. Her skin isn't greasy, it's oily. Literally. It's easy to see because her breath is heavy with fear and her skin is a little sweaty.
The mechanical menace is /terrified/, desperate to tough it out and take this risk.
"M-me?"
The mortal's head nods when she hears that squeaked out consent and she turns around, not sure what to expect. Neither Amity's nor November's meins had prepared her for this, but... they were both Fairest and their time in Arcadia had changed them in different ways.
Her eyes travel over the seams in the Lost's flesh and the corners of Mavis' mouth pinch. Her black eyebrows knit and a cold, silent fury wells up in her chest.
"They did this to you?" she asks, sounding gentle and urgent at the same time. Mavis wanted to know who'd done this to Widget as if vengeance would come for them. It doesn't even strike her right away that Widget is stark-assed naked, but this was different. She understood why the imp had done it. It was so that she could /see/ what the clothes hid beneath them.
Just as she'd told Amity and November before Widget, she says to her, "I'm.. sorry." For all that you've been through. "For.. you know. Everything."
Widget gnaws on her lip with a fang, fliching when Mavis turns. She just nods, swallowing to try and help get words out. This...this was...b-better? When Mavis apologizes like that, though? It's just a lot. Too much. Widget tries to respond in English, fails before she can even get a word out, and tries in Spanish. Fails.
So she cries. Her voice breaks as she finally talks, shuffling closer to Mavis. "N-not you! Not you! No tubes and gears and burnt meat and screaming engines. You...Mavis...Good! Very good and nice and not screaming and hitting me and...and..."
Grab. Cling. Shake.
"...Th-this...okay?"
Her eyes widen and Mavis takes a half-step back. Not recoiling or cringing away from Widget, but she's terrified of this reaction she had somehow sparked in the Lost. She hadn't meant to send her friend into hysterics and before Widget even clings on to her, Mavis is trying to settle her down.
"Shh, shh. Hey," she goes in her softest, gentlest voice. "It's okay." What had Amity said before? "You're safe, Widget."
The imp latches onto her and Mavis arms cinch around her, crushing her in tight. She rubs her cheek against the side of Widget's head, careful of the hair. Would it hurt her? She didn't think so, maybe if she was careful it couldn't.
"Yeah," Mavis assures her, tilting her head back a little to get a look at the imp's tear and oil streaked face. "Is okay." Pause. "Are you?"
Widget shakes, tears smelling like coolant. It's an ugly cry. Bone deep and from someone without any concept of shame. She's crying because she hurts and doesn't hurt and it makes her head hurt.
But Mavis is there. And she is safe. This is her home. /Hers/. Nobody was coming to take and if they were it'd be bad and Mavis feels nice and smells nice and okay.
When she looks back at Mavis, it's almost what she was. An urchin, underfed, scared, confused. But eventually it calms. She can smile again, and she does, even if it's wobbly. She's not hurt. Mavis...accepted her.
"A-am now."
Mavis holds onto the imp for as long as she needs her to and she doesn't let go even after Widget tells her that she's okay. She's stooped over a bit, arms a little straight as she looks at Widget to make sure she wasn't lying. How could she? Through all of those coolant tears. Mavis crunches her back to her again and sighs against her ear.
"Good." Squeeze. Crush. "Very good." Now all of the traps made sense. The dogs too. Phew. She felt a little drained. "I'm glad Amity's got friends like you, Widget-- and her you."
Widget is fine with hugs. Her motorpurr starts up, the imp nuzzling Mavis as she tries to get her emotions in check. Sniffsnuffle. "Smell like old clothes. Metal. Nice. Yes."
Inhale. Exhale. Clamp. Right. ""Good Amity has you. Pretty. Smart. Tough. Lucky girl." Widget nods, smiling wide and bright. Mavis scored major friend points. "W-want to play? Have two controllers. For most of them."
Mavis low, warm laugh rises in her chest when Widget begins to thrum and purr again. "What is that?" she wonders to the imp. "Does that mean you're... happy or something?" She couldn't be certain without asking, but the mortal seems to have an inkling that she's right.
"Sure," she breezes, nodding and looking for a place to sit down but then she turns to Widget and eyes her a bit... well... shyly. "Are you going to put some clothes on though? I, uh, think you probably should." She points out, politely, "I can see your nips."
Widget steps back, pausing for a second. She's standing there with her hands on her hips, squinting at Mavis like she's trying to make her head explode. "Used all my magic. To show you. Want it back. Can with...um..." English wooooord. Ah! "Emotions! So...hold still."
Let's see, yup. How did she....does she just....oh, okay! Right now just drink deep and...oh. Oh.
Well, that was embarrassing. She'd forgotten. Just...wow, okay. Easy to see why people were addicted to it. Hopefully there weren't noises. Might've pulled a face. The imp walks to pick up her clothes, looking pleasantly dazed.
"You what now?" Mavis asks when Widget claims to have used all of her magic and then says something about emotions. She's told to hold still and Mavis, not sure what's about to happen, does as she's told to do. She watches the gremlin very carefully, waiting for something, but nothing happens except Widget makes a strange noise and an even stranger face.
Then, like nothing had happened, Widget sets about her business like something HAD happened and she wanted to move past it.
"Wait, wait- wait." She treks over the small distance to Widget's side, leaning to peer at the imp while she collects her clothes. She's looking right into Widget's face. "What was that? What'd you just do?"
Those emotions Widget harvested were a swirl of worry, relief, and a quiet, but fierce, protectiveness of the imp.
-> >> Widget to Here << <-============================================
Rolled 1 Success
< 2 10 >
============================-> >> Composure + Empathy No Flags << <-
-> >> Widget to Here << <-============================================
Rolled 1 Success
< 7 9 >
=================================-> >> Wits + Empathy No Flags << <-
"Took you." Widget finds a borrowed T-shirt, slipping it over herself. She stole it from a giant, judging by how loose it fits her. "Glamour? Have magic. Runs on emotions. For fuel. Yours. Like...wanted to keep me safe. Nice of you."
Widget smiles, looking like she just finished a drag race on a motorcycle with a pretty rumbly engine. "Feels /really/ good. Want more. Yes."
There's a split second where her face changes. It's hungry, infernal, impish in the extreme. But it passes as her head tilts and then looks down. "...Why? Something wrong with them?"
She furrows her brows, staring at Widget like she didn't understand what she was saying. For the most part, Mavis really doesn't get what the imp is trying to tell her.
"Runs on emotions... Your magic?" Wait, she had called it something different. "Your... Glamour?" Mavis keeps thinking, trying to make sense of it. Did Widget mean her emotions or her own emotions? It had to be HERS, because Widget just touched on one of the prevalent things Mavis was feeling. And thanked her for it.
A ruddy flush creeps into Mavis cheeks and she drops her gaze quickly. "No, nothing's wrong. I didn't feel anything." She looks up, curious. "But you did? What's it.. What does it feel like?"
Widget nods, shuffling to center herself. "Yes. Can...watch." The gremlin looks up at a lightbulb above the kitchenette, squinting. There's a small thrum of...something and the light flickers and dies. It's a minute before it fizzles back on.
"Need fuel. For that. Emotions are magic fuel! Yes. Human ones. Yes. Angry and sad and stuff." Widget nods knowingly, despite not knowing much. "So. Can get more! From you. Can. Like. Get naked again. Scare you. Something to make you feel stuff. Yes. " Hm. Where were the consoles. "Like. Face is red. Could go for lust. Yes. But like..um...prank...feelings?" She sighs.
"English is bad. Um." Think....think. "Annoyance! Yes. Annoyance glamour feels good. Always feels good. Like..."
Hand on hand, pressed to heart. Damn thing is going like a sowing machine. She's shivering. "Know it. Amity knows it. Pillows. Or drugs. Best feeling ever."
"Will never know. Ever. When it happens."
Mavis blinks rapidly at Widget as she elaborates more the aspects of magic and glamour. She glances back at the flickering light bulb, suitably impressed by this small feat. Sure, it was just a light, but that's more magic than she can do.
"So," she goes, looking back around at Widget and folding her arms. "Let me get this straight. Humans are like batteries for you guys and your magic?"
Widget says something that DOES actually make Mavis' face turn red just like she was talking about. She has to wonder, "Do.. Do you think Amity draws fuel from my emotions?" Especially with Widget mentioning lust like that and telling her how wonderful it felt to sip from that well. "Is it bad? I- I feel completely normal, just worried. It can't hurt me, can it?" Surely not. Amity would have told her about it if that were the case. Then again, she hadn't mentioned vampires and those were apparently real.
"Yes." It's super-blunt, as expected. "Strong Lost need it. Amity. Me. Too weak. Just like it. So...yes. Guess from sex. Strong from a mortal right there! Never know it. Easy! Guess it feels /great/!"
Widget tilts her head, hmmming. "Or love. But can /make/ sex feelings. Good idea! Yes."
Wandering over the console bay, Widget bends and starts adjusting the rats nest of wires. "Hurt? Um. Dunno. Feel funny? Can try and get more. Yes!" Please? That was /awesome/. And she really does want to have more in the tank in case she gets ambushed or something.
Mavis' entire face takes on a dusky, pink hue and that heated flush creeps down her throat. The tips of her ears are almost fire engine red. For the first time ever, Widget would see Mavis well and truly flustered.
"I-I didn't say THAT. I dunno if Amity takes fuel when we're... you know." Fucking. "But you.. You think she does?"
Geez. She wasn't sure how she felt about that and wisely decides not to come to any conclusions til she sits down and has a talk with amity about it all.
Mavis makes her way over to the couch, knocking some junk out of her path, and slumping down onto a cushion. She drops her head into her hands and groans behind them.
"I guess, Widget.. You might as well," she tells her when asked if the imp could drink in more of her Glamour. After a second, she adds, "Thanks for at least asking."
For whatever it's worth, the mortal is miserable and abashed.
Widget giggles, then cackles. It's a manic noise, high and quick. She can't help it. The imp sits next to Mavis, slipping an arm around her shoulder. She's...uh...getting a little close. A liiittle too close.
Her voice comes out in a much more low purr, truly infernal. Not like a succubus, but more like something smiling in the margin of an illuminated bible. Smug git, aving fun with the mortal.
In her defense, she is emotion-high as /balls/ right now. Still, it's a bit odd. She's warm, vibrating, her skin feels funny. There's no judgement in her voice when it comes, just...really happy to have Mavis around.
"Yes~. Does. Can tell. Know it. Ever get faster? Better? Moving before you want? Good idea, really. Yessssss...." Face too close. FACE TOO CLOSE. HANDS VERY MUCH GOING PLACES THE SH-
Oh, now she's back like it never happened. Just sitting on the couch and stopping it all in...like...a half-second. "See? Like /that/. Lots of emotions. Any work. But...yes. Totally does."
Man, these chips were stale. "...Like Kirby?"
Mavis keeps her face in her hands, feels Widget's weight added to the couch next to her, and then an arm that the imp slips around her. She leans into the contact, conditioned enough from the last half-hour of frequent hugging to not really think much of it at first.
But then Widget was getting awfully close to her, wasn't she? And hands were sliding over her body in ways Widget had never put her hands on her before. The mortal feels Widget's face getting close, close, closer to her own and she lifts her head out of her hands to turn and blink at the infernal imp. Her eyes become startled and wide. This close, Widget would be able to see the green flecks them.
"I can't," she murmurs back in a breathy whisper. Her body thrummed at the touches, core warming and tightening, but Mavis shakes her head and pulls away when Widget does. She turns to look at the imp then glares at how smug and smarmy she looks. "Stop that. Stop looking so pleased with yourself." Hmph. "I'm trying to focus on Amity. She's.. really fragile right now."
"Hm? Oh! Sorry." Not gonna stop smiling, though. Her tone is...annoying. But her words are serious enough. "Know she is. Should be. But....need to know. Showing is better. Can't...tell you right. Not in English. So...did that." She sighs, frustration crinkling her smuggy face. "Plus felt great. So. Yes. And can /smell/ that did something."
Inhale. Exhale. Guh. English was /annoying./ "But...think. Amity does that. /Audra/ does that. /During sex/. Ever know? New girl? Someone with their face? Dangerous! So...just....be careful. Yes."
"...Aw. Hold on."
Stupid dusty cartridge. *PFFFFFF*.
Mavis has no idea what Widget it saying. "Uhhh," she goes while looking squirrelly and panicked. "Sheesh... I kind of wish Amity WAS here so she could tell me what you're saying, Widget." The mortal rubs her face with both hands and musses her fingers through her hair in frustration. She sighs then says, "I'll be careful. Sure." Pause. "Where's another controller?"
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