What's better than a space cadet Flowerling? One who thinks she can conquer the world! Cian is in his usual grey drab, the satchel currently missing, but he's also helping out a customer in muffled voice and broken sign language. There's a small family, the child that was making noise has now been pacified with Dad's cell phone and is trying to beat a high score while mom packs up and gets everyone the fuck out while swearing at the Dad. She shoots Cain a dirty look who blindly ignores her for the far prettier Candice in front of him. There's the usual old guy who's fallen asleep while his wash was done an hour ago.
Because Count hasn't told him not to yet, the lights are down to the center strand of halogens over the row of dryers. A pair of washers beside Cian and Candice are running and are approaching the spin cycle. Cian, is apparently taking a cue from Count and fully encouraging the delicate and dainty flower to try out the spin cycle. In fact he's pausing in the explanation of sign language to listen to her tell her tale of why she stopped. The pretty flowers. "You'll have to show me," he says of her paintings.
With warning, the Thief's fingers and hands find the waif's waist and he lifts her like a hollow boned bird up and onto the washer as it reaches that fabled spin. "I'm right here, I won't let you fall," he promises.
Candice is, indeed, pretty! Just standing there, changelings will notice she's collected a faint dusting of flower petals, and gently scents the air with something warm and soothing. For others, she's imply a somewhat unsettling, pretty girl, standing with Cian and following his hand motions to try and learn some sign language, chattering away. She's modestly dressed, in a long khaki skirt and a creamy light long-sleeved shirt with a print of pink roses and lavender. She grows suddenly embarrassed, at the talk of her paintings, "Well, I guess it wouldn't hurt. When I get set up, I'll show you something." SHe promises, before she's suddenly being lifted, and squeaks, "Careful!" Candice warns, before she's set down, looking vaguely panicked. "Absolutely don't let me fall! I bruise very easily!"
Count comes from the strip mall into the laundromat.
Throughout the day and night, people come and go without incident. The bring in their dirty laundry, they wash it, they leave. No biggie. No big whoop. Until...
BANG goes the door!
"CIAN McCARTHY!"
A Cressida darkens the entrance. Literally. Shadows fill the space, ebon tendrils reaching into the laundromat to feel along the ceiling, the walls, the floor. In the center of it all is her, the star, the bright core and she shines ever so brightly. Around her swirls her miniature galaxy: tiny translucent planets and moons, comets and asteroids, all of it expanding outward on ever growing orbits. Her hair rises up in a nebula behind her, colorful strands fading into interstellar dust. Zooooop! One of her figments passes though the shoulder of an unaware mortal, the guy only glancing up to see what the commotion is about before looking back down at his phone.
"What did you do with my underpants?" she demands of the Darkling who is currently lifting the most delicate of delicate Flowers up onto a washing machine. "And you scribbled on me! I had a mustache for a whole day before someone told me!" She swirls her finger in front of her face rapidly, to demonstrate where this all went down in case he has forgotten.
Glitch pushes his way in with a large basket in his arms, stacked high with laundry. He can barely see over it. Etsy patters next to him, peeking here and there, the two arriving in the wake of Cressida's wrath. Glitch's eyes go a little wide, and at the yelling and shadows going everywhere he nearly drops the laundry basket. One hand leaves it, causing it to tip wildly in his hands, about to topple...and that hand goes instinctively to his back, gripping at something he's got cleverly wedged down between his hoodie and his bulging jansport backpack. Something he probably shouldn't pull out in the middle of a laundromat with mortals around.
The mermaid drifts along in Glitch's wake, drawn behind him like a bit of flotsam bobbing along in the wash of a large ship. She barely appears to touch the ground, her feet barely in contact with the tile. Tatty silk slippers and ratty thrifted clothes, with the exception of a white sash that's half-buried in the layers of junky clothes she wears. Those who know, will recognize the mermaid as a Sacred Courier; it's hard to be well-traveled and not run across one of those Fairest messengers. Etsy's sea-change eyes -- no pupil, no iris, just color-shifting sclera -- widen at the invasion of space into the laundry ahead of them. Wildness comes along with Etsy, her absurd Spring mantle spilling vines and sea-crisp air into the humid, hot air of the laundromat. When she sees Glitch reaching for his hoodie, and what she knows is hidden there? Her pleasant demeanor becomes quickly as sharp as the sword Glitch is about to yank out. "Glitch! DO NOT TO BE DARING!" Mermaids are wild animals, never tamed, never housebroken, and the low, rattling half-snarl in her throat might surprise those who've only seen the bubbly, chipper side of the tiny sea creature.
Cian is careful, strong enough to be gentle on the poor girl as she settles onto the machine as it starts to slowly build up speed with the spin cycle. It should be an interesting ride. He is right there though, as promised, keeping an eye on the girl shedding flower petals. Right up until there's a crack of the door and he winces. A shadow darkens the door and he has to turn his gaze to look at the Galaxy Girl herself. In marked fury. Blink. He seems mostly unfazed by the cosmic wonder bearing down onto him. With all the aplomb of an innocent man he shakes his head and clears his throat to get as much volume as he can with the rambling washers right next to him.
"Your underwear and skirt are in a bag with your name behind the counter," then he blinks slowly one more time before adding on in that strained whisper, "I did not scribble on you, that was Count," NO LOYALTY MAN, "I supplied the birthday candles and helped frost you," he nods once matter of factly and then proceeds to turn towards Candice with a chin nod, "This is Candice, Candice - this is Cressida," he introduces before the shop is inundated further.
Pitch black orbs seem to look past Cress and he blinks to see Etsy and Glitch. The fellow reaching behind him for something gets an eyebrow quirk but Etsy's already yelling which gives the Darkling more cause for flinching away and keeping hidden behind the Death Star and semi protecting Candice from the washer, and herself mostly.
Candice's eyes widen at the sudden appearance of-- well, whatever Cressida is. So wyrd! Glitch is, sadly, ignored as far less interesting, though the scary mini mermaid trailing behind him? She causes the slender blossom to shrink slightly, backing further onto the washer. However enjoyable the ride might be, she's subtly glancing around for an exit-- until she gets an introduction to the crazy star. "Hello." She squeaks, shifting to the edge of the washer to more completely get behind Cian. The scent of flowers intensifies, and her loosely pinned-up hair in whites and reds and greens, seems to lose some of its body, shrinking closer to her scalp. "Um, nice to meet you all? Cian-no-one-will-throw-things-right?" She half-whispers towards the darkling, the faintest hint of color on her cheeks.
Oh.
Her underwear* is behind the counter? He wasn't the one who drew a curlique mustache on her face? That's all it takes -- a declaration of innocence, a shifting of the blame -- and Cressida's anger is abated. The darkness is pulled back into her, her light dims down to a much more reasonable glow and even her galaxy gets into line, pulling into a tighter orbit around her crown. A dopey grin falls crooked on her lips and she rolls back her shoulders in an easy shrug. "Oh, okay then!" she drawls out amiably.
Okay then?! All that drama and everything is just FINE?? Jeebus, woman.
She gives her hair a toss and that sends a shower of wee stars back over her shoulder, the glittery figments bouncing along the floor a bit before fading away. It is a glance backwards -- and Etsy's roar -- that draws her attention to the mermaid and Glitch. Does she realize how close she was to danger? Maybe? Maybe not? Regardless, the lopsided grin grows more fully and she flicks a wave. "Hey there."
Then? A familiar whurrr-whurrr-whurrrr and her attention is diverted once more! To Candice! Two thumbs up are given and the star voices her support for: "Spin cycle! Wait for it..."
(* And skirt)
Glitch gets shouted at by a mermaid. Very loudly. So right as Cressida tucks the shadows back, he lets go of what he was going for. He lets go with *both* hands, dropping the laundry basket, which slams its plastic ass into the ground with a loud BANG that echoes off the walls. When heads turn to look at him, he stands there sheepishly with both hands up.
That mermaidish roar, and the flash of her piranha teeth, were accompanied by a flare of Etsy's Spring Mantle, a wash of water lily scent, the sharp edge of briny breezes. Her sea-change eyes went from a sea-foam green to a dark, dark olive, as if passing through to the abyssal plane. "Is a Count shop and a publics, is for to have a behaving," Etsy informs Glitch more primly, and her blue lips close over that formidable set of teeth once more; she smooths down her skirts and folds her webbed hands gently together as if she hadn't just flashed her teeth and the depths of the ocean at the computer-generated friend she came with. "Is needing help with the laundries, Glitch?" Now she looks so innocent she might as well be balancing a halo on that dark rumple of curls she calls a hairdo. Her hands unfold, and she raises the right one, wiggling her fingers at Cian and signing, Hello. Busy shop tonight. Who is your friend yelling at you about her underpants, and the other flower? In sign, apparently, Etsy has relatively correct grammar.
Enter Count, or, Count Enters, on his way home from.... business, lets call it business. He's got a bag from some out of the way burger joint in one hand, and one of the said burgers in another, one of those massive ones that are definitely not from a fast food joint. The scent of Bacon and Swiss and beef come with him, and the burger itself is loaded with these, as well as mushrooms and avocado, and it is disappearing halfway into the beasts mouth.
Of course this means that his hands are full, and he ends up simply opening the door by lifting a foot, and shoving it open with one leg, and then slips inside to find... that the place is crowded. Dirty Laundry, most happening hangout spot in the Freehold... but well, it ain’t part of the Freehold if Count has any say.
The Winter beast takes a moment as he masticates thoughtfully, golden eyes narrowing ever so slightly at the gathering crowd, taking a moment to consider each of the gathered lost, or perhaps he overheard Cian's betrayal. Bastard. "I thought..." says Count, speaking up in a lazy, almost smug tone and a bastard’s smile "...The mustache looked rather fetching on you, Star-Booty." Apparently unafraid of the woman's ire. The beast is wearing his 'Virgin Prunes' tee today, faded with a few holes here and there, torn jeans, black and faded, and the usual heavy boots.
There is the distinct scents of clove and 'Wacky Tobaccky' lingering about him, and something else. Something, delicious. It's different for everyone really, but the scent of food, one’s very very favorite food in fact, if they are fond of the man, tho those who do not like him much instead believe he smells of spoiled things.
Cian isn't usually the gallant guardian, that's really not what the Thief does. He's there to steal the scepter out of the bad guy's hands at the most inconvenient moment and scurry away laughing into the shadows. This whole him standing in between the wilting flower and the rest of the world is weird, but whatever, she's buying it! Leaning closer to Candice, he whispers to her, "They shouldn't," he looks expectantly at Cressida, because the mercurial goddess is the one who gets to determine that in the end.
Just like that the darkness ends and the Thief brings the light back - weiiiiiird twice! He smiles at the dopey one and winks before she gives the thumbs up to Candice who's about to be treated to the spin cycle. Yes, Cian is this bad. No you shouldn't be surprised. Glitch is glanced at and he moves right along, letting the yelled at puppy be yelled at. When he sees Etsy's hands moving, he is quick to introduce, <<Cressida is the glowing galaxy girl of wow, Candice is the lovely flower beside me.>>
A glance is favored for Candice, making sure she's alright and at least enjoying the suddenly very vibratory ride beneath her. He's still right there in case she slips too close to the edge again. Then there's a slow blink when Count comes in with food and the man makes wide vanta-black eyes at him over that. His boss is not going to begrudge him helping a new lovely find out about spin cycles right? Like that can just be a code word for Things?
Glitch scoops his laundry up and starts shoving it into a large washer, sparing stares now and then for the Lost setting the tiny flowerling on the jostling washer. He's got an expression on his pixellated face of mild confusion or disbelief, like he doesn't quite approve of the rowdiness, but he does keep looking. "I'm not a daring," he reassures Etsy.
Candice is of average size! Medium height, just...slender, and fragile seeming, and perhaps that adds an air of petiteness. Very likely. She looks faintly comforted when Cressida calms down, and Cian assures things aren't going to be thrown or begin exploding, so she settles back to look curiously down at the washer-- until there is yet another face! Looking up, the white flower - white, not pale, not to Lost eyes - looks towards the Beast with wide eyes, but after a moment of consideration... he's slightly less scary, relaxed as he is, than the others. Plus he has food, and thus will likely not bite anyone else.
As such, she's free to fret over being up on top of the washer, a little 'Wha--' escaping as the thing suddenly starts on the spin cycle, and she grips the edge of the washer. She's blushing again, the wyrd not so strong to take the red from her cheeks, but strong enough it's just the lightest blush, and the petals given off at her feet pinken as well. Someone's going to have to sweep, later. But she only looks up, slightly embarrassed, and offers a wave. "Hello! I'm Candice. Cian is helping me with laundry."
The mermaid reaches out when Glitch looks up at one point or another, reaching out a finger to boop him on the nose. Boop. "I know you are not a daring. Just had to have a reminding of you," Etsy answers him, the corners of her lips curling up a little bit. All is forgiven, apparently, and the Charm Offensive has returned. A second boop of her finger to the pixellated nose, and she steps back to stay out of Glitch's way as he does his laundry.
Who knows what Etsy smells when Count arrives, but whatever it is, it's enough to make her delicate little face turn toward the door. It's impossible to tell where, exactly, she's looking, but she does smile toward the incoming Beast. "Helloandgoodevening, a Counts," she greets, the corners of her blue lips curving up just so. "Is a goodness of seeing."
Her attention flickers back toward Cian, and she nods thankfully, her fingers flickering in response, Very pretty indeed. Lucky for such company. The corners of her lips curl up even more, briefly impish, and then she raises her hand to wiggle those webbed fingers at Candice and Cressida both. "Helloandgoodevening." A rote bit of speech, that. Someone took the time to teach her to say it just so. "Am an Etsy. Esther Swifts, but a Counts called me an Etsy a long time agoes, and it sticked like an angry jellyfishes. Is a newness is you? Am not seeings before." This seems to be directed at both Candice and Cressida.
The star grabs her hair and twists it into a sloppy bun atop her head, holding it in place with a hair stick that she's drawn out of the pocket of her skirt. To mortal eyes, it just looks like a ratty blonde mess but the Lost here see blue, purple and cyan shot through with stars, the mass of it drifting up into a celestial cloud. Behind one ear is an unlit joint and she plucks it free now; when Count walked by with his Eau de Marijuana scent, it reminded her that she had some available herself. The Elemental doesn't spark up just yet though. Nope. She wanders over toward Candice, a big grin on her face.
"Feels good, don't it?" she asks as the washing machine the Flower-girl is sitting on starts to spin faster and faster and faster. Twinkling eyes filled with impish glee, she nudges the chick with her elbow. "If you sit on it long enough, you're going to orgasm." Thank you for that, Cressida. Good lord.
Turning around, she looks at Count again. "I KNOW that it looked good. But if I knew it was there then I could have coordinated." What does that even mean? Before anyone can ask, she explains: "I would have found a monocle. Maybe a top hat, too. A cane, or would that have been too much? Cian, you would have been able to get me those things, right?" She opens her mouth to continue, to rattle on further but then.. THEN! Etsy is introducing herself. And you know what introductions mean, right?
HANDSHAKES.
Candice only escaped this fate by virtue of being mid-spin cycle and Cress did not want to interrupt /that/. But now? Now she gets a wild look in her eyes and a manic grin on her face and her galaxy EXPANDS. She pushes up one sleeve. And then the other. Boy oh boy. Get ready Etsy. Get ready Glitch.
It's time to shake some hands.
Glitch frowns a little at Candice being a virgin sacrifice for the washing machine resonance Gods, but he's already been yelled at for thinking about attacking the Keeperish blob of stars so far. He starts to wander over towards them, hands shoved in his pockets and a surly expression on his face, about to say something...and then he's being attacked by starry handshakes. He sort of stares back, mouth open, not sure what to do, defeated by his lack of social skills. "Uh."
The burger is gone after another too large bite, which reveals teeth that's make a gator green(er) with Envy, he licks his lips with a vividly blue tongue. Satisfaction, for a minute at least. Already however, he's reaching into the bag, grabbing one of the beer battered mushrooms and rolling it in his fingers before that too disappears down his gullet.
Esther get's a nod of his head at the greeting "Hey Etsy, good t' see you." and then Glitch gets a familiar glance, count making another note to his growing list of people that have flocked here from Aleswich. But his attention is largely on Cressida, as if waiting for some sort of... not an explosion, but definitely a Kerfuffle, or perhaps a Ruckus of some sort, perhaps even a Hullabaloo. Count makes his way deeper into the Laundry, walking along the outer aisle, inly to turn, coming around the back and starting up the path where Cian and Candice are, his attention now shifting to the Flower girl, watching her with a sort of, predatory curiosity, maybe because she is so... delicate seeming, like giving off the prey vibes like woah, or perhaps just because Count is count, and he's curious.
As he closes in however, he reaches into his pocket and looks to the Darkling. "Cian Catch." and Count tosses something, underhanded, towards the Spin Cycle enabler. It's a sort of cube, cast in dark greys, with a bunch of switches and other doohickies on it.
Cian blinks at Glitch as he goes to the point of putting things away. The constant look and scorn coming off of him just gets a quirked eyebrow, but he's Etsy's friend so he leaves it well enough alone. Candice is taking care of her own introductions and the Mermaid is reaffirming his suspicions. There's a toothsome smile and his focus reverts back to Cressida as she comes up and basically blows the whole surprise factor of the first time on a washing machine. Seriously! Oh well, he isn't going to keep Candice up there, but at this point the washing machine is rumbling to it's peak and well - she won't have any problems getting off in one way or the other at this point. Watching someone else get the Cressida HAND SHAKE EXPERIENCE!!! (tm). Snicker. Oh but Count's there and getting his attention and diverting it from jostling flowerlings. He snatches the grey cube out of the air and looks at it with wide black eyes. "What's.." he doesn't really have to finish the sentence as his cramping, twisting fingers suddenly attack the little gizmo. There are buttons, and switches, and spinnies, and ratches, and the not so little thief makes a soft sound that is somewhere between happy and relieved. "Thank you," he whispers as his boss.
"It is good to have a seeing of you, Count." Etsy's face stays turned toward Count for a moment longer, and she adds, "Should have a talking, sometimes, yes?" She might have said more -- she seemed about to -- but then she's got the whole of Time and Space in the form of a whorling godhead of a woman bearing down on her. Rather than being intimidated, though? She turns on the charm offensive. And there's nothing quite as charming as a Flowering who's decided to turn it up to eleven.
Her Mantle explodes across the floor -- though it's dulled and muted around the Dusks, it doesn't die entirely -- in illusory runners of vines and lily pads popping up on the tile floor, tiny white flowers springing out of the edges of the washing machines, and the smell of lilies, sea air, and sweet, crisp breezes filling the area around her. When Cressida reaches for her hand, she puts on her very most charming smile -- her teeth don't show, her eyes glitter as though sunlight's flickering through the water that is her eyes -- and she handshakes with the best of them. A Sacred Courier has to make good impressions at hostile Courts and charm their way past hobs with spears, after all. "Is good to have a meetings of you," she trills. When some people say their voices are musical, they're exaggerating. Etsy's voice is a siren's song. Come and crash on my rocks, sailor. What could go wrong?
Cressida's words make Candice's blush deepen, and she bites her lip, shifting to the very edge of the machine before debating-- measuring-- using the time that Cian is distracted by things being thrown at him to balance a hand on his upper arm and jump down before anything can happen publicly. "You're a jerk." She huffs at Cian, still red-faced, but clearly more embarrassed than angry. Even when being tart-- there probably is something of a fragile prey creature about her-- perhaps because she's not quite as wary as she should be. She's clearly a flower of some type, after all, and doesn't seem particularly...predatory a plant.
Fussing with her clothes, she then proceeds to fidget, throwing Cian another vaguely miffed look before she turns to see what Cressida is doing, and the other, far more active flower girl.
Yes, yes, yes. Cressida ruined the surprise. She is THE WORST. She probably spoils movies, too! She doesn't mean to ruin people's fun; she just gets so excited about things that she has to share. 'Oh my gosh, can you believe that Darth Vader is Luke's FATHER?!' 'Guess what? The planet of the apes was Earth all along!' 'SOYLENT GREEN IS MADE OF PEOPLE WHAAAAT!!!' And most egregious of them all:
Spin cycle will make you climax!
Someone needs to sit her down and explain spoiler alerts. But just as she fails to grasp how to navigate social situations, she will likely fail to grasp why one should let others discover these kind of delights on their own as well.
Speaking of grasping..
With her unlit joint pinched firmly between her lips, it’s now Handshake Time (the lesser known cousin of Hammer Time but twice as fun when a Star is involved). Etsy is her first vict-.. uh .. targe- .. err .. recipient. Cressida grabs the mermaid's hand -- firmly -- and leans her whole body into it. "We are doing this now. On three. Onetwothree!" she says quickly and then UP! DOWN! UP! DOWN! Much enthusiasm! So vigor! Very vim! Stars and comets rain! Planets and moons orbit the pair! IT. IS. AMAZING. At least, that is Cressida's estimation of the encounter. Another awesome handshake for the record books. She is SO GOOD at being a person with other persons. So normal. Much good. Yaaaas.
Next up? Glitch. He has his hands in his pockets and this is a minor impediment -- Cressida just pulls one out, grabs it and shakeshakeshakeshakeshakeshakeshakeshake..
She's still shaking the poor guy's hand when she looks over her shoulder over at Count and Cian with a big grin like 'Look at me go!' Her gaze falls across Candice and she shouts -- SHOUTS:
"DID YOU CUM YET?"
Inside voice, Cressida. For fuck's sake..
"Why... just, Why?" Count asks any gods who are listening, murmuring the words under his breath. No that doesn't mean you Cressida, Entitlements don't count. Fool Count once...
As Candice doesn't seem to notice him just yet, the beast manages to creep rather close before he says anything else, in face he's standing perhaps five and a half inches from her, and towers over her by a whole looming inch (maybe another inch after that, considering his heavy boots). "Hello Petal, welcome to Dirty Laundry. i see you are enjoying our services and eclectic clientele." That black lipped smile of his? Full of wickedness. "My name is Count."
As for the rest of the scene around him, he's largely ignoring it, though when Cian immediately wraps his lticky fingers around the little device, Count seems genuinely pleased, inclining his head in response to the thanks.
What goes around comes around it seems. Cian threw Count under the buss, and Cressida tossed him in after. The Thief just flashes his most innocent smile at Candice as his fingers roll the little grey box over in his hands, both of them attack it with less agitated flicks and twists. The rest of the room is ignored because now the criminal has to get his way out of another pickle. "I'm just trying to spread the good word of the Spin Cycle, I dunno what you're talking about," he whispers to the flowering even though she's flush faced and blushing. It's a nice look and the way her hands pink he just admires for a moment. THANKS CRESSIDA. Right as he is about to make further explanations. There's a scream from the other side of the room asking if Candi got to the big woo of said ride.
The Darkling just squints his face together because he's never living this down, he already knows it. Looking back at Candice, he's about to say something when the washers BUZZZZZZ in unison and he coughs instead, "So now the dryer," he says while pointing to a couple of machines and then clutching the cube in one hand while his other reaches out and takes the dryer sheets and presses them into Candi's hand before slipping away to fetch one of those creaky-assed janky laundry baskets on wheels. On his way one finger /pokes/ Cressida righteously in the side.
Glitch takes his stuff out of his washer and tucks it into a dryer. He makes a motion to Etsy on the fringes of the wild scene. "I'm going after this," he mutters, grumping a little bit. Glancing around sourly. "There's not even any arcade cabs in here. Somehow. It's suspicious."
Candice can't help it. Red hands reach up to cover her cheeks, cooling her face as she gives an emphatic, "NO! Obviously! Who even does that in front of so many people?!" She calls out to Cressida, flustered. The sudden voice behind her calling her 'Petal'? that causes her to spin around, hands covering the bottom of her face still, eyes wide. She leeeaaans back, hands falling to offer Count a nervous, but mostly confused smile. So close! "Hello. I'm Candice. Candice Ellison. I've just arrived. Cian /was/ helping me." Eyes slide towards Cian, still miffed, before there's that beeping and suddenly she's getting dryer sheets that she clutches to herself before looking from the washing machine and the dryer, "Oh! Right, drying." She turns to Count, and beams, "I've done laundry before. Just not at a laundromat." She hastily explains/lies.
Now, Cressida knows that she can be overwhelming, right? But ... she probably wasn't expecting this. The mermaid, who had seconds ago been quite enthusiastic about shaking the starry starry night's hand? Suddenly yanks her hand back from Cressida's grip, clutching both of her hands to her chest. Her sea-change eyes go foam-white and then abruptly turn dark olive, that 'heading to the abyssal plain' color, and then she tumbles backwards, nearly falling into one of those rolling laundry baskets. The normally quite graceful creature stumbles back until she finds a folding table, and then rolls backward underneath it, skittering back under it until she's wedged herself into a corner, her butt in the corner where a wall and the side of a dryer meet.
Her sweet siren song of a voice becomes a high, nervous sound, like someone sped up a humpback whale's song way, way too much and used it as a backing track to dubstep, and her eyes get so big that she might be mistaken for the lead in a Super Kawaii anime. Except, well, she doesn't look too happy that Senpai noticed her. Why, exactly, she went from Miss Cheerful Happy To Meet You to literally hiding under a table like a cat who's spotted the carrier and heard the word 'vet'? Well, surely someone knows why she's doing that, but Etsy ain't explaining.
Glitch stares over at Etsy right as he's moving an armload of laundry. "Shhhhhhfuck," he mutters out awkwardly, and then goes crouching towards the corner to see if he can help this, holding out a hand. "Etsy. Etsy..."
Wait, where's her joint? Cressida finally lets go of Glitch's hand -- which gives him the freedom to take his stuff out of the washer and (more importantly) get away from her -- and looks around. There it is! On the floor! How did it get there? Oh, I dunno. Maybe it fell from between her lips when she was busy shouting a status-check from Candice. Stooping, she picks it up and, in the process, sheds a few stars and comets. Plink-plink-plink -- they're just figments but they make tiny noises that only the Lost can hear before they fizzle and fade from view.
"Oh, I did," she replies to Candice when the petal-girl asks what she probably thinks is a rhetorical question in 'who does that in front of so many people'. "It was a surprise but so lovely. It made me feel glow-y and then so very relaxed afterwards. You really should give it a tr-.."
Blink. Blinkblinkblink.
Etsy is skitter-scamper-retreating like WHOA and it leaves the star absolutely flummoxed. While she /is/ used to 'reactions', this is a new one and, being an Elemental, she does poorly when it comes to reading body language and interpreting situations. The broad strokes are fairly easy -- FREAK OUT -- but anything more nuanced than that is just a smattering of question marks all over the place. She looks at Count, at Cian, at Candice, at Glitch, searching their faces for answers and guidance. They are all smarter than her when it comes to people and social stuff, right (well, maybe not Candice, Elemental fistbump, yo)?
"Heeeeeey..." she says in a relatively quiet-ish tone, dimming her light and pulling her galaxy in as she gives the cowering Etsy a cautious wave. "Heeeeeeey.." Edging closer, she crouches down and crab walks a little nearer before extending a peace-offering.
Her joint.
"A pleasure to meet you Candy..." says Count, already changing her name to whatever he feels like at the moment. "..and don't sweat it, you wouldn't be the first. The Queen of the spin cycle rodeo over there..." he says with a thumb towards Cressida "...didn't even know money was involved in the process, or detergent for that matter. Cian is my best Employee." Lulu is also his best employee. Count has really low standards. According to the IRS however, Count has 0 Employees.
Look at him, so nice and friendly! Ignore those eyes, golden like those of a Lions, without a trace of sclera.
He might have said more, but then there is a commotion and a hiding person and he looks perplexed "Cress, did you break a customer?!"
Whatever else the Darkling could have helped with is pretty much cut off the moment there is screaming. Hurriedly, Cian leaves Count and Candice with the rusty cart. Reaching over, the sticky fingered Thief takes the rest of Candy's quarters in a to-go plastic cup and shakes them into Count's hands. A brief if apologetic smile comes and he just quietly moves back into the breakroom. The light goes off inside and he quietly closes himself in away from the commotion. All of it. All at once.
Cian heads into the back, the fabled employees 'lounge'.
If Cressida's confused, she at least /knows/ some of these people. And wasn't expecting to have clean clothes! But suddenly her quarters are being given away and people are ducking under furniture and there's yelling and excitement, and the white flower looks vaguely...confused, and slightly overwhelmed. When Cian abandons her for the sake of-- well, darklings darking, she looks about to protest, but just sighs at his apologetic smile, before she glances with some concern to the mess over there, then reaches for her quarters from Count, raising her voice slightly to be heard over the keening, "I can handle my clothes. I've seen it done, at least. You can um, help-- with the yelling. I have instructions!" Indeed, there's a hand-written folded bunch of papers in the rusty cart. "I can manage."
Whatever it is that happened, Etsy is curled up underneath the table, her arms wrapped around her knees, her face buried in her knees and her hands stuffed between her shins. Hidden. Protected. She sways back and forth under the table like a bed of kelp caught in a strong current, rocking herself and whimpering high and sharp. It's not exactly the most melodious of sounds, but it's not screaming. It's just... extremely frantic singing. If there's ever a time when Etsy doesn't express things musically, then you're really in trouble. (Ask Glitch, amirite?)
Eventually, gradually, she sort of uncurls a little bit, raising her eyes a little so she can look up over her knees. The keening subsides a little bit, though she's still quietly whimpering, and she says something into her knees, but it's mostly unintelligible. Her hands stay hidden in between her skirted knees, and one bit of her foot-fins pokes out of a hole she tore in her tatty silk slippers in her hasty retreat. The joint held out toward her, at least, draws her attention a little bit. And she sniffles, her keening quieting entirely, her big eyes turned toward Glitch and Cressida. The rest of her face is still hidden behind her knees, like a crocodile's eyes visible above the waterline. CrocoEtsy.
Glitch looks over at Cressida. "You scared her," he beeps faintly. Not sure how, not sure why, but he knows that. He eyes the joint a bit unimpressed and steps back, giving Etsy space to escape. A clear path to the door. But he hangs back and waits for her in case she wants his support too. "Come on out. I think the humans all left after people started screaming."
The Star looks at Glitch and nods. "I can do that," she says and it's true! This is not the first time she's freaked someone the fuck out. Glittery eyes sweep back toward the cowering mermaid and Cressida considers her from a few moments. "Here," she says, laying the joint on the floor and patting it. "You can have this. It's for you." A smile is given and then she withdraws -- it's the best thing she can do, really. She doesn't know HOW to fix what she's broken but she suspects that the best path forward is space and time.
Crawling backwards, she stands and heads back over to Candice and Count. "Yeah, I think so," she tells the Beast when he asks her if she busted one of the customers. Her nose wrinkles up and some of her orbits dip low, the speed of those journeys slowing to a guilty crawl. "Sometimes I am a bit much. Or so I have been told." Her gaze flits between Count and Candice, Candice and Count. "Maybe I will just help you with your laundry for the time being?" This is said to Petal-Power and she pads over to her. "I am an expert you know. Don't put the money in with the clothes. That's the wrong thing to do."
A glance is spared to the backroom door, to the lounge where Cian disappeared into. "Do you think he needs help back there?" the star supposes to no one in particular.
"I knew that. I didn't know about needing quarters. I thought it was like parking spaces. Where you have a kiosk that you pay with your credit card for the space-- or um, here the machine-- you're using." Candice explains, a bit awkwardly, to the star. She does glance here and there, towards the panicking mer-something, biting her yellow lips faintly, before offering, "I have things that could help? Medication. You can take some with water, and it's very relaxing," She calls out helpfully. All this, while she carefully shakes wet clothes loose, folds them badly, and then places them in a pile to put in the dryer.
Apparently Glitch hit on it, because Etsy nods her head slowly when he asserts that Cressida scared her. Not that this was in doubt. What is the question, of course, is how, or why, and what exactly the Walking Universe did to cause it all. That, however, is not forthcoming. What is forthcoming is Etsy -- even a little bit before Cressida leaves, she is edging her way out from under the table. Etsy's shaking, yes, but now there's another layer added on: she looks, if nothing else, deeply embarrassed. Perhaps. There's something going on here, something that makes her blush brilliantly blue, the flush climbing her throat into her cheeks. She opens her mouth, then closes it again, squeaking in the back of her throat. And once she's close enough to the edge of the table to reach it, her hand snakes out and snags the joint, making it disappear into her layers of clothing. Her sharp teeth worry her lower lip, and her eyes half-lid, bright with tears. The look she turns to Glitch is a big pile of awkward, and she doesn't say anything.
Cressida? Scary? What's there to be scared of other than the loudness and the brightness and the more-fae-than-human-ness and .. okay, we're getting into a lot of ands at this point. She /does/ actually have very chill moments; it's just that tonight wasn't one of them. Meeting new people is always an exciting time for her and there were /three/ new people, all at once. THREE. Plus, one of them was discovering Spin Cycle(tm).
It was a recipe for disaster.
Oh.
/OH/.
It was spin cycle.
It was yelling about orgasms.
That's what it was, wasn't it?
Silly star, oh you silly thing.
She continues to chitter-chatter with Candice at the dryer, 'helping' her by not really helping at all. "Make sure you put all the colors and all the whites and all the dark things together at once although that is much more important for the washing bit. That is what Count told me and he knows these things," is the bad advice she gives. She keeps peeking over at Etsy, making continual status checks without getting too involved. But there is someone else who needs a status check too: Cian. "COUNT!" she shouts and then remembers she shouldn't. "(count)," she over-corrects to a whisper. "(i'm going in the backroom)."
And she does.
Star out!
|
