[Open] Look at all this weird shit I bought

[skeletonkeay]

Who: Gerard Keay and YOU! (Feat. a special prompt for Cecil)
What: Gerry's spoils from his recent purchase
When: Mid-March
Where: Gerry's shop (and Cecil's place)
Warning(s): None, this is all silly shit.




-Mall Goth-

Gerry's not a huge fan of spending money at Calloway's shop after the Lot 37 incident, but he still regularly checks it to make sure there's nothing else there that anyone needs to be worried about. He saw a few items of concern (note to self: tell Annabel Lee about that pendulum, and Cecil about Lot 2) but otherwise nothing too untoward. Just the same sort of overpriced bullshit he always sees.

But then, toward the back of the shop, a pallet wrapped with a Hot Topic shipping label.

He can't resist.


-Yard Sale-

On a Tuesday, when his shop is closed anyway, Gerry separates out the items he does not want and puts them out onto the little bit of pavement in between the street and his shop, neatly stacked. A sign says "Please take only one." But he's sitting there to enforce it, puffing away at a cigarette and reading a book, on a chair he dragged out from his workshop. The items are as follows:

- Brittney Spears Monopoly
- A 2-pack of Funko Pops from something called "My Hero Academia", which lists the characters as "Tomura Shigaraki" and "Overhaul"
- A set of Sanrio enamel pins, consisting of Hello Kitty, Keroppi, My Melody, and Cinnamoroll
- The most hideous pink Gloomy Bear plush you've ever seen
- The Naruto lanyard
- A set of rubber ducks that look like the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
- A couple of Tasty Peach mochi cat plushies (he kept some as well)
- A cheap Deadpool action figure
- A Beetlejuice snowglobe
- A piggy bank shaped like a Super Mario question mark block
- Some Pokemon blind bags.

(The items he kept, by the way, were the aforementioned Tasty Peach plushies, a Strawberry Cow plush, a Bob Ross chia pet, a skeleton beanie, a Skelanimals figurine, replicas of the herb jars from Nightmare Before Christmas, an elaborate Hatsune Miku statue, some rollerball perfumes in skull bottles that smell like pomegranate and rosewood, and all of the makeup.)

-Peace Offering-
(Closed to Cecil)

Needing to talk to Cecil anyway, Gerry drops by his place with a strawberry cow plush under his arm, smelling extra nice.

-Wildcard-
Come by Gerry's place for whatever and notice all the weird new shit he has. He's wearing proper goth makeup, has a whole ass Chia Pet growing on his desk and a Hatsune Miku statue in his shop's front window.

Comments

[amourtician]

"He what—" Anzu begins, shoulders going up— and then he remembers where he is, and why. His shoulders go down, and he shakes his head. "Ah, right, yes. Ah. Here? Or elsewhere?"

He's a little taken aback by the fact Magne's reacting in surprise and not say, anger or fear. Worried that she might discover other feelings once the surprise's worn off, he decides to stick around for the time being.

"I must say, dearest, thou'rt taking this news better than some might," he says, not unkindly.

[sistermagnetic]

Magne huffs, rocking herself back up onto her feet and turning the box over in her hands. There's a lot of little oddities about it (what is this anime title looking nonsense?) but for now she's just focused on the fact that she's holding a pair of figures like this at all.

"As far as I know, he's the one that ended me up here in the first place. So I suppose I owe him one for that." She rolls her eyes. The anger softens to a pout as she looks toward the white-haired figure, then back at Anzu. "There isn't a lot that I can do now, is there? I can't go back and knock the man out for killing me and doing whatever he did to the rest of my people, and pointless anger has never been my thing. I'm thinking I'll keep this one at least." She turns the case around to show Shigaraki with his little hands still firmly in place over his face and arms.

[amourtician]

"Ah," says Anzu. "I think I understand, darling." And he does, even if he can't quite relate—Marrow Isle has not been a disaster for him, but it has been no blessing, either. Except for his husband being here.

He takes a longer look at the figurines; they look almost like spirits, shin-dalets, even. Which, back home, wouldn't preclude Magne knowing either of them socially.

"I don't know how I'd feel, truth be told," he says, "if I found figurines of the tzar or any of my old colleagues, here of all places. Though at least, ah, they're not how I met my death."

Remembering himself, he hastens to say, "and, ah. I do beg thy pardon, I failed to introduce myself. I'm called Dr Menelikov. Anzu, really, if we're meeting not in the clinic. What do I call thee, ziskayt?"

Judging by Magne's general air, Anzu figures he'd not shake hands with her. Lev's mentioned to him that there's a couple of other cultivars in Pumpkin Hollow, and he's already got a hunch who Magne is, but his social scripts preclude I already know who thou art, one by whom I'm a total stranger. That's always a little unnerving to be on the receiving end of.

[sistermagnetic]

He speaks so much like her skinny, starry-eyed friend that she's starting to think without any other evidence that they might be from the same place. Won't she be surprised when she learns that they're married!

"It's weird," she concludes with a small huff, still pouting down at the figures, though it's clear she does still want to keep them, if the way she holds them is anything to judge by.

When Anzu finally opts to introduce himself, Magne pauses, then relaxes a touch. Another one of the new doctors? They've got so many here now. Everyone is going to be fairly well taken care of, by her reckoning, especially if their specialties remain varied. With her hands still secure around the box, she bows at the waist as is proper. "Hikiishi Magne. Friends at home call me Big Sis."

[amourtician]

Aha, Anzu thinks, she is the new friend Leyb mentioned.

His demeanour eases up, loses some of the practiced staginess he uses as a shield—he is as flamboyant and deliberate as he appears, but there are people with whom he's relaxed, and people with whom he's always a little on guard. Magne is, barring a truly colossal error in judgement on both Anzu's part and on the part of his husband, unlikely to be the former.

He bows to Magne in turn, а heartfelt bow Ladsky-style—bowing at the waist, with his left hand clasped to the right side of his chest.

"It's a pleasure to meet thee, dearest," he says. "Mine husband has talked of thee—he's very fond."

[sistermagnetic]

In time, she'll peg Anzu as the peacock that he is, but for now, she's simply enjoying his company even in the midst of this extremely strange revelation.

As the bow is exchanged in turn, Magne relaxes further. Either this is someone with whom she shares customs, or he's simply read her and is responding as is polite. Either way, there is a synergy there.

Of course, at the mention of a husband, she can't help but pause. In her presence, Lyuobov assured her that she presented feminine, but...well, in the midst of that there was also the admission that she would be masculine in the presence of other men, which would make such a title make sense. She wonders now what would happen if she were attempt to magnetize Lev/Lyubov if she were right here in between the two of them. Probably something catastrophic, and entertaining.

"You're the husband," she muses, her head tilting as she surveys Anzu, one hand coming to prop on her hip. "Well, aren't you charming. You certainly do make a fetching pair, don't you?"

[amourtician]

Anzu for his part is making some assumptions about where Magne's from, or rather—since by now he's picked up on the fact many of the not-quite-dead¹ outsiders in Pumpkin Hollow come from a world that isn't completely unlike where he and his husband were born—he's making an educated guess that she's from somewhere not unlike the cluster of plena that form his world's equivalent of East Asia.

Her bow confirmed that his guess wasn't too far off. But he makes a mental note to ask her more about where she's from—he's got half a mind of keeping notes, to see if there's any pattern as to where everyone's arrived from.

"Yes, indeed I am," he says, and if there's a touch of smugness in his pride, it's understandable. "And I thank thee, darling, thou flatter'st me. But he, he's the one who's truly beautiful. I'm merely well-dressed and look young for my age." He grins; his tone isn't precisely insincere but it's clear he doesn't actually think he's ugly—but he does think Lev/Lyubov is astoundingly beautiful.

But the context of their meeting is strange to him, strange enough to be interesting to the point that he redirects the conversation back, now that they've both introduced themselves.

"So, ah, about the gentlemen depicted by those figurines," he says, then pauses and clucks his tongue, "no, I shouldn't just assume either are gentlemen, I of all people ought to know better— who are these, depicted in the figurines?"

The assumption was not altogether carelessness—or rather, it was a moment of autopilot that he decided to salvage into a potential opening for Magne to ask questions: he's never attempted to be stealth since returning from the tzarist court, and though many people would simply not ask, no one but his husband knowing is making him feel strange. He desires not just community, but the assurance of knowing others who know his situation, who understand it.

¹ Or all the way dead initially, but now all the way dead plus not-quite-dead on top of that, like Angel—and of course Lev's told his husband about Angel.

[sistermagnetic]

Well, that confirmed her suspicion based on his speech pattern without any trouble at all. Good to know that her general instincts are still relatively spot-on. It helps that he seems genuinely good-natured and self-effacing in that joking way.

The attention turned back on her and her figures prompts her to turn the box around once more to show him each of them in turn. She taps a finger against the thin plastic covering the front of the box, lips pursing as she considers him a moment.

"I think I'd like to be able to sit somewhere to talk," she says thoughtfully. "It isn't exactly a pleasant conversation."

[amourtician]

"Absolutely, darling," Anzu says, and gives her a sympathetic, reassuring smile. "Thy choice of where we ought to go, since I'm the one what's prying."

He cocks his head to one side, studies her for a moment and adds, "though nu, in exchange, thou'rt welcome to ask about my past, once thou art feeling rather done with reminiscing for the day."

He's curious, yes, and yes, it's also part of his usual internal script for meeting people. But he's also enjoying talking to her. And he's hoping she might give him an opening to discreetly come out to her. Frost-hardiness is different from overwintering in the ground like tulip-bulbs, but both can be awfully lonely.

[sistermagnetic]

Magne considers for a moment, looking back down the road in the direction of the Oak & Iron, deciding against it after a moment in favor of one of the local eateries that didn't seem to have much regular patronage. "I work at the Oak, so maybe not there," is what she says to him as she turns to lead the way back out from the yard sale.

She arches a brow at him at that comment, wondering in a halfhearted sort of way if that was meant to be a bit backhanded, or just a peculiarity of speech pattern that didn't quite translate. Either way, she's going to choose to take that at face value.

"I'd love to. Your beau hasn't told me quite as much about you and your home, usually they're so distracted by everything else that's going on in the moment."

[amourtician]

"Rather busy there, too, feh," he says, and it's not a question—the feh is not precisely dismissive, but rather resigned. For such a small place, Pumpkin Hollow couldn't quite be called sleepy, and he's having trouble adjusting his expectations. "Ah, I mean, at the Oak. I may be getting cocky as far as off-the-cuff social deductions go, but I suspect thou would'st want more privacy than the Inn can offer."

Anzu does mean his comments straightforwardly, though he might've overdone it a little, just earlier and right now both—trying to indicate he's aware some people hate talking about themselves, trying to pre-empt suspicions of him prying in bad faith, looking for blackmail material. Some part of him never quite got over the people-pleasing, and some part of him never quite got over the social games of the Tzar's Court. And he does want Magne to like him, after all—as she likes Lev/Lyubov, who's spoken so fondly of Magne.

He follows Magne out of the yard sale; he pauses only for a moment or two to sign to Lev/Lyubov — |Magne and I are just going to talk, feel free to head to the Oak and Iron, if thou'rt tired|.

Lev/Lyubov signs back their agreement, and waves goodbye to him.

"Mine husband has some trouble with focus, yes," Anzu says, turning back to Magne, and smiles. "Except when it comes to about three matters, in which case his focus is alarmingly sharp and hard to pry away. Such a manner, some people merely have it from birth. But, ah, really, dearest—" he looks at Magne very seriously, "I do mean it, I intend not on remaining no enigma to none here, newcomers or locals. I am curious about thee, but in the interests of fairness, I ought to let thee ask me questions, too. I wish not to have no unfair advantage over thee, in social matters. And in any case, if I'm getting to know thee, thou should'st get the chance to know me in return, nu?"

Might as well be upfront — despite his kneejerk worries, Magne doesn't actually seem like she's the type to be fond of social manoeuvring, so he feels like he can risk it.

[sistermagnetic]

Magne watches the exchange with a polite interest, realizing quickly that they've got their own little signals for when they need to separate. At least, that's what she interprets it as, rather than actual sign. Still, she raises a hand to Lyubov as they go, a farewell to her friend for the moment.

"I've known plenty of people that don't really have much of an attention span, don't worry. The company's been really nice to have here in between the long shifts trying to get everyone taken care of."

Leading the way without paying much attention at all, Magne walks them toward one of the smaller bakeries that boasts a selection that they could sit and eat at a couple of tables off the side of the building, like a little cafe without the coffee. They could stop inside to find something to pick at and snack on while they talked.

"I don't generally go into a lot of detail about myself anyway, when it comes to meeting strangers," she admits freely. "My story isn't for just anyone to pry out, and there aren't a lot of people that would be particularly sympathetic anyway. I do generally preface it all with the fact that I'm not exactly a good person, but circumstances do push people to desperate acts, so...maybe that colors opinions. The way that Lyubov spoke though, you all don't really have to deal with such things, at least in your specific neck of the woods. Kinder treatment all the way around."

[amourtician]

As they approach the bakery, Anzu smiles — it's a place he'd been meaning to drop in on, though he's had trouble finding the time, and remembering his intentions when he did find it.

But Magne's words — on what she's heard from his husband — make him sigh. He doesn't sound frustrated, but there's a slight sadness in it.

"Okh, that would really depend on whom one asks, and where, and when," he says. "And he is younger than me, darling. By a whole thirteen years. Some matters, they'd been improving in the years before he came out into the hothouse society, nu?"

"I shan't spill mine Ari's secrets, darling. But if we'd had it easier than thee, it was through luck, and sometimes I fear it's only because I suspect many have no idea about me, and only a vague notion that mine husband's not always a man. In other words, ah—"

He pauses, and cocks his head at Magne, looking up to meet her eye.

"I shan't judge thee, darling. I've done many things I feel not no pride for. And my, ah, situation being what it is, it helped not none. And in any case, I gossip not. And if Leyb trusts thee, I trust thee."

They're at the bakery now; Anzu enters — the bell above chimes as the door swings inwards — and then holds the door open for Magne.

[sistermagnetic]

There is a lot to focus on here, surely nobody could blame him for not being able to remember to drop by the place in his day-to-day.

Magne listens quietly as Anzu shares his thoughts on the matter, about the difference in the times that he'd witnessed versus those that his husband experienced. She makes a soft sound in acknowledgement, knowing better than to ever expect someone to divulge information that wasn't rightly theirs to hand out. She appreciates him opting out of it immediately.

Entering the building ahead of him, Magne steps aside so that they might both look at the painted board beside the counter that lists the information for making orders. A greeting for the girl behind the counter, and she opts for one of the sugared muffins, then steps aside to let her friend place his order as well while hers is being seen to.

"So far neither of you have given me a reason not to trust you, but I do admit there is a distinct difference in the way Lyu-chan talks about your world versus what I've experienced. It's made me...hm. Perhaps a bit resentful," she admits with a soft chuckle and an apologetic look. It darkens, taking on a deeper sadness. "To have my name stripped from me and used as a label to make me even more of a societal pariah...it stung more than you'd ever know."

[amourtician]

Anzu orders tea and three of some kind of pastry that at least superficially resembles a jam pontshik. He's pleasant to the girl behind the counter — even if he is still a little stiff in the way the very shy can still be, long after they've learned the proper scripts for demonstrating to others that they do in fact think people are wonderful and take pleasure in interacting with them.

He turns to look at Magne while he's waiting for the pastry and tea — head cocked to one side, obviously listening even as he still looks at her chin rather than meeting her eyes directly.

"I would imagine there's been little in thy life to rival such a pain, yes," he says, softly. "I gave my name up voluntarily, and, ah. That was bad enough. For thee to have had no choice in such a violation, I'm ... ah. I'm sorry ..." he stammers to a stop, briefly overcome. "Thou need'st not tell me of the details. I have no wish to cause thee pain for the sake of my own curiosity."

[OOC: thread continues here]