[ Ash doesn't tend to distinguish days of the week into good days or bad days, at least not in a way your average retail worker might be familiar with. He has his store. It's either open or closed. He sees to customers as they come, and whether they consider themselves entitled to his person or stock or not and where he comes down on the matter, it doesn't have much bearing on him once his door's locked. He's only just recently even begun to occasionally anticipate closing with any sense of urgency, and that's— he's still getting used to that, uncomfortable with the clear shift it delineates between one use of his time and another, one mindset and another. But either way he doesn't carry the rest of the day preceding it into his time with Dahlia. Not even the anticipation, if he can help it.
Today? Today's a shit day.
He'd met Liam out on the front porch as usual, and they'd rolled their cigarettes in companionable mostly silence, as usual, a book between them with the detritus of the ritual scattered across the cover. (It's not a favorite book.) All good, until he'd tried to light one and his Zippo had sparked once and then failed to make a flame no matter how many times he'd rolled his thumb over the damn thing. Liam had been able to give him a light, of course, but there hadn't been time to go out for some kind of stopgap for the rest of the day. Just enough of it to suck down his coffee and suck down the cigarette and say goodbye (good night, for Liam) so he could head in and open. No time to go out now that it's been a couple hours and he's due for a smoke break, either.
Normally he wouldn't have hesitated, this morning or now, to close up for fifteen, twenty minutes to get what he needs and get back. But he can't afford to drive away the business. Dahlia's lessons (for want of a better word, in his mind) take up at least twice his usual supplies, and he's sure his water bill will be higher this month too, from the couple days she'd stayed while ill from overexerting herself. He's not stingy — he'll never tell Dahlia, in fact, because she'd only insist on paying him back and then some — but he keeps a sharp eye on his finances as a sort of necessary trade-off for making up for his stinginess with his books.
And now, apparently, he needs a new lighter, too. He had quickly gone upstairs to his apartment shortly after opening, dug around his casting supplies for some matches, but really he'd known even before going up there it was a futility. He relies on his lighter far too much.
So now he's stuck behind the counter with a book in hand that he's unable to focus on when he keeps getting sucked back into the abyss of contemplating another eight or so hours ahead of him without a cigarette, tapping the spine restlessly against his knee instead, and of course it's a Tuesday, so he doesn't have Dahlia's lessons to— look forward to, dread, plan for, it's all part of the anticipation, and no fucking use to him right now. ]
it sounds good in theory, right? it makes sure i help enough people to nurture good karma but not so many that i start to seem dependable usually i forget to keep track after the second week though
Oh, right. Wouldn't want anyone to think you were dependable.
[ ....wait, how serious is he? shit. ANYWAY. ]
I was kind of hoping you could distract me for the next indeterminate but definitely still reasonable amount of time. How much of your quota does that fill? I promise I won't start thinking of you as dependable.
Shit, no one wants that. I wouldn't even know who you were anymore.
[ see also how liam personally has been on time for work like ....uh, never. no one cares, mostly because he's the only person on the managerial staff not constantly ankle deep in cocaine. ]
Anyway, it's nothing life threatening. Madison and Jake are just locked in a battle of indomitable wills where she thinks she should be allowed to nurture him and he would rather eat glass.
[ he says, eerily. or he would, if this weren't text. but at the same time, he's kind of charmed by this bond they have built on always arriving late for everything, inconvenient for everyone but them. that's cute shit. ]
from what i know of maddy, that sounds threatening enough i'll accept my mission
my day's consisted of discovering 5 bucks and a tube of chapstick in the couch cushions, watching art attack on youtube, and working on a mosaic for class that might be taking on the shape of a pro wrestler i can't remember the name of but it's a little too early to tell
so not bad!
Edited (rusty doesn't use periods what was i thinking) 2018-03-14 23:56 (UTC)
[ oh god. seven hundred years ago he was -- okay no, he was never good at doing this, but he thinks he might have been able to cobble this information together into something that would lead him somewhere clever, but these days he can actually feel both feet trying to stuff themselves into his throat at the very thought.
but fuck it, you know? maybe if he screws this up badly enough rusty will be appalled enough at his lack of sauveity to gently insist they don't hang out anymore, and then liam will be saved the agony of constantly waiting for the other shoe to kick him in the face when it drops. ]
My vote is that you let me hook you up with all the bad coffee you could possibly want, thus saving you valuable chalk money. We could find a sidewalk that needs beautifying.
[ seven hundred years ago rusty was holed up in a bedroom that never felt like his getting lost in a haze of magic and visions and had absolutely no time for cleverness or charm, so it kind of makes sense that he's inclined to give any attempt at one or both of those a fair chance. and not even in the pitying way! especially not what liam is most definitely asking to buy him coffee and take him out on a made-for-rusty style date.
you get all the points, liam. ]
this is probably gonna come as a shock to you but i have absolutely nothing more important or fun or grouty to do you make a fine offer
[ iT'S NOT A DATE DON'T CALL IT THAT. they're just. going to hang out! doing something ..................cute, fuck. shit. they'll have to engage in some really deviant sexual escapades afterwards to make up for it.
but that's later, obviously. just now liam can't even think about that because he's too busy forcing himself not to type like, "I can't believe that actually worked." ]
I am in fact minutely, incrementally shocked. You're a busy guy.
[ you know, with a social life that makes liam's massive introversion curdle just thinking about it. ]
Want me to pick you up? And by pick you up I mean walk to your place, so we can walk other places. That's the kind of detail-oriented, considerate service I offer.
[ GOSH WHAT A COINCIDENCE ............. actually coincidence seems kind of impossible in a world where all magic is basically probability magic, but anyway ]
Oh, you mean the ones with the holes.
[ when liam said as you wish (to wear those jeans), what he meant was, i love you. as we all know, since his best pair is so riddled with tatters he has to wear leggings under them. ]
So. There was a gas leak at my store. Meaning I suddenly have the day off, it's Deeply Discounted Halloween Decorations Day at merciless capitalist establishments in and around our fair city, and little crepe paper skeletons are calling my name.
If you're not busy I thought that sounded like the kind of thing you're into.
i could not be more into discounted candy and cheesy decorations unless there was also like finger-painting involved which is never completely off the table as far as i’m concerned
my middle name is strict protocols, liam [ ha ha ] objectively speaking though face paint is kind of thick so yeah i’d go the chocolate route way more fun to clean up too
Rusty, your first name isn't even your first name. I won't believe these lies.
[ have his insensitive jokes come up anywhere else yet, because those are still a thing. ANYWAY he did start it, and with gumption!! ]
And that's how you get ants.
[ i refuse to believe they don't watch archer like, all the time. ]
Not that that matters, since the mold on my bathroom ceiling smiled and made an obscene gesture at me today. Ants would just be scuttly little friends in comparison.
Oh, no no. Priority one is one of those hokey jointed skeletons I can use as a dartboard. Finger painting may have to wait.
[and what a shame that would be! ANYWAY, liam goes about the business of scuttling rustyward, tossing off another message about the proper way to school one's mold before he starts speedwalking.
he is, of course, cold, but savannah remains quite temperate even after halloween and so it is only a familiar and beloved black hoodie that garbs him this day, though it too has patches, not unlike ones mentioned in a totally different thread. they’re just patches that were cut from pieces of the previous black hoodie, and appear therefore to have been sewn by someone with three thumbs on one hand and a pirate-style hook for the other. shut up, it’s comfortable. as liam himself looks remarkably, given how perilously close they are skirting to doing like, cute, not strictly-condom-based actives together because they are fun, o god. it’s being retroactively established that one of them always brings the shitty coffee; this time it must be liam’s turn, since he has two styrofoam cups, both large enough that he could personally wear them as a hat.
this necessitates that after rusty buzzes him in liam jam the doorbell with like, his elbow, but he is becoming slowly, steadily, a little warily used to how Rusty for some reason finds his unrelenting awkwardness like. good. or something. ]
Hey.
[he takes the opportunity to kiss rusty swiftly when he hands him his shitty coffee, which ISNT A HELLO KISS HUSH YOUR MOUTH. there’s tongue, so a mere hello kiss this cannot be. ]
They were all out of coffee, but not to worry: I come bearing 7-11's finest motor oil.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Today? Today's a shit day.
He'd met Liam out on the front porch as usual, and they'd rolled their cigarettes in companionable mostly silence, as usual, a book between them with the detritus of the ritual scattered across the cover. (It's not a favorite book.) All good, until he'd tried to light one and his Zippo had sparked once and then failed to make a flame no matter how many times he'd rolled his thumb over the damn thing. Liam had been able to give him a light, of course, but there hadn't been time to go out for some kind of stopgap for the rest of the day. Just enough of it to suck down his coffee and suck down the cigarette and say goodbye (good night, for Liam) so he could head in and open. No time to go out now that it's been a couple hours and he's due for a smoke break, either.
Normally he wouldn't have hesitated, this morning or now, to close up for fifteen, twenty minutes to get what he needs and get back. But he can't afford to drive away the business. Dahlia's lessons (for want of a better word, in his mind) take up at least twice his usual supplies, and he's sure his water bill will be higher this month too, from the couple days she'd stayed while ill from overexerting herself. He's not stingy — he'll never tell Dahlia, in fact, because she'd only insist on paying him back and then some — but he keeps a sharp eye on his finances as a sort of necessary trade-off for making up for his stinginess with his books.
And now, apparently, he needs a new lighter, too. He had quickly gone upstairs to his apartment shortly after opening, dug around his casting supplies for some matches, but really he'd known even before going up there it was a futility. He relies on his lighter far too much.
So now he's stuck behind the counter with a book in hand that he's unable to focus on when he keeps getting sucked back into the abyss of contemplating another eight or so hours ahead of him without a cigarette, tapping the spine restlessly against his knee instead, and of course it's a Tuesday, so he doesn't have Dahlia's lessons to— look forward to, dread, plan for, it's all part of the anticipation, and no fucking use to him right now. ]
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I have a medium-sized favor to ask.
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lay it on me
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usually i forget to keep track after the second week though
[ ... how serious is he? we just don't know. ]
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Oh, right. Wouldn't want anyone to think you were dependable.
[ ....wait, how serious is he? shit. ANYWAY. ]
I was kind of hoping you could distract me for the next indeterminate but definitely still reasonable amount of time. How much of your quota does that fill? I promise I won't start thinking of you as dependable.
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next thing you know, someone expects you to be somewhere ON TIME
a reasonable amount of time will get me a good 1/4
should i ask what i'm distracting you from? could earn myself a few caring bonus points
[ or maybe he's just... casually concerned. the mysteries continue. ]
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[ see also how liam personally has been on time for work like ....uh, never. no one cares, mostly because he's the only person on the managerial staff not constantly ankle deep in cocaine. ]
Anyway, it's nothing life threatening. Madison and Jake are just locked in a battle of indomitable wills where she thinks she should be allowed to nurture him and he would rather eat glass.
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[ he says, eerily. or he would, if this weren't text. but at the same time, he's kind of charmed by this bond they have built on always arriving late for everything, inconvenient for everyone but them. that's cute shit. ]
from what i know of maddy, that sounds threatening enough
i'll accept my mission
1/2
Or
all the time, actually.
whoops 2/3
done!
That's your mission.
To tell me that, obviously.
[ oh god he started this without considering he no longer remembers what the kids call follow through. shit. ]
1/2
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my day's consisted of discovering 5 bucks and a tube of chapstick in the couch cushions, watching art attack on youtube, and working on a mosaic for class that might be taking on the shape of a pro wrestler i can't remember the name of
but it's a little too early to tell
so not bad!
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What are you going to do with your newly acquired five bucks? Besides buy chapstick, you've obviously got that covered.
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i'm between 3 cups of bad coffee and 2 packs of sidewalk chalk
cast your vote here
1/3
but fuck it, you know? maybe if he screws this up badly enough rusty will be appalled enough at his lack of sauveity to gently insist they don't hang out anymore, and then liam will be saved the agony of constantly waiting for the other shoe to kick him in the face when it drops. ]
My vote is that you let me hook you up with all the bad coffee you could possibly want, thus saving you valuable chalk money. We could find a sidewalk that needs beautifying.
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you get all the points, liam. ]
this is probably gonna come as a shock to you but i have absolutely nothing more important or fun or grouty to do
you make a fine offer
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but that's later, obviously. just now liam can't even think about that because he's too busy forcing himself not to type like, "I can't believe that actually worked." ]
I am in fact minutely, incrementally shocked.
You're a busy guy.
[ you know, with a social life that makes liam's massive introversion curdle just thinking about it. ]
Want me to pick you up? And by pick you up I mean walk to your place, so we can walk other places. That's the kind of detail-oriented, considerate service I offer.
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not when i don’t wanna be
[ which, coincidentally, is whenever liam is also not busy. funny how that works! ]
uber better watch the fuck out
yes come pick me up
it’ll give me enough time to find my favorite pair of defacing public property jeans
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Oh, you mean the ones with the holes.
[ when liam said as you wish (to wear those jeans), what he meant was, i love you. as we all know, since his best pair is so riddled with tatters he has to wear leggings under them. ]
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in true delinquent fashion
plus patches on the knees
extra padding for chalk drawing kneeling
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[ oh god his fingers have bETRAYED HIM ]
Anyhow. Your Uber will be there in twenty.
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gonna start an art movement
[ look at him not commenting on how liam is rEALLY charming, even if it’s... completely involuntary. ]
any longer and i’m not giving you 5 ⭐️‘s
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in continued date fuckery, FORWARD DATES THIS to nov 1st
Meaning I suddenly have the day off, it's Deeply Discounted Halloween Decorations Day at merciless capitalist establishments in and around our fair city, and little crepe paper skeletons are calling my name.
If you're not busy I thought that sounded like the kind of thing you're into.
EMBRACES IT
finger-painting involved
which is never completely off the table as far as i’m concerned
the short answer is no i’m not busy
8D
Failing that you could melt chocolate.
[ did he just suggest edible body paint
yes. rusty should be proud of the nonsense he gets to come out of liam's mouth. or fingers, as it were. ]
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objectively speaking though face paint is kind of thick
so yeah i’d go the chocolate route
way more fun to clean up too
[ implications abound. liam started it!!! ]
1/2
[ have his insensitive jokes come up anywhere else yet, because those are still a thing. ANYWAY he did start it, and with gumption!! ]
And that's how you get ants.
[ i refuse to believe they don't watch archer like, all the time. ]
Not that that matters, since the mold on my bathroom ceiling smiled and made an obscene gesture at me today. Ants would just be scuttly little friends in comparison.
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1/2
[ please, liam's insensitive jokes can be a theme anywhere and everywhere. also, i don't doubt this for a second. ]
remind me to give your mold a talking to next time i'm at your place
my mold respects me
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screaming monster displays are priority 1
priority 2 is a mask test
priority 3 is finger painting
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[and what a shame that would be! ANYWAY, liam goes about the business of scuttling rustyward, tossing off another message about the proper way to school one's mold before he starts speedwalking.
he is, of course, cold, but savannah remains quite temperate even after halloween and so it is only a familiar and beloved black hoodie that garbs him this day, though it too has patches, not unlike ones mentioned in a totally different thread. they’re just patches that were cut from pieces of the previous black hoodie, and appear therefore to have been sewn by someone with three thumbs on one hand and a pirate-style hook for the other. shut up, it’s comfortable. as liam himself looks remarkably, given how perilously close they are skirting to doing like, cute, not strictly-condom-based actives together because they are fun, o god. it’s being retroactively established that one of them always brings the shitty coffee; this time it must be liam’s turn, since he has two styrofoam cups, both large enough that he could personally wear them as a hat.
this necessitates that after rusty buzzes him in liam jam the doorbell with like, his elbow, but he is becoming slowly, steadily, a little warily used to how Rusty for some reason finds his unrelenting awkwardness like. good. or something. ]
Hey.
[he takes the opportunity to kiss rusty swiftly when he hands him his shitty coffee, which ISNT A HELLO KISS HUSH YOUR MOUTH. there’s tongue, so a mere hello kiss this cannot be. ]
They were all out of coffee, but not to worry: I come bearing 7-11's finest motor oil.