[ charles, for all his issues with his short attention span, has always been a good listener when the subject matter is interesting — idly, through his amusement at picturing the scene in question, he thinks that he could probably sit here for hours and just listen to junpei tell him random anecdotes of his life. because, well, he knows the broad strokes, but this? this is the first time he's referring to anything specific like this, the first time he's mentioning anyone by name, and charles feels a bit blindsided with how badly he wants to know more.
he laughs, then, shaking his head with a fond little sigh. ] Not very professional of you, yeah? Was he mad? Seven, I mean?
[ but, ] Right, if we're trading stories... one time I freed this owl from a mausoleum, thought it was this dead witch's familiar, but, uh, turned out it was a forest deity and it was really insistent it owes me a favour, so... it took me to draw this sword out of a stone, you know, like a whole King Arthur thing and all. It also turned into a dragon, which was less cool, but anyway, that's how I got my sword. Never used it much cause I prefer the cricket bat, but... [ he shrugs and laughs sheepishly. ] Edwin made me promise to stop freeing random animals that hang round dead witches and to stop talking to random animals if they talk to me and want me to follow them.
[Junpei scoffs, shaking his head. Seven, get mad at him? Him, Junpei? Impossible. Or, well, not impossible really at all, but-]
No, it was funny. Eventually. And if I didn't already know you guys can do actual magic, that would sound like complete bullshit, you know that? Magic owl dragons and swords in stones...
[He shakes his head again, amused; he believes it! It's also very fantastical, especially when he has no magical dragon stories of his own to share. He drums his fingers on the beer bottle, thinking.]
So uh, I got to play bodyguard once, I guess? One of my friends is a professional harp player, if you can believe that, and his sister- Clover- tells me that his fans are nuts so I've gotta hang around at this performance or else. She made me put on a tie.
[Pause for dramatic effect. Lamentation about wearing a tie, etc.]
Turns out, it was a con to get me to go to a harp concert, except I still had to stand the whole time. [...,] Uh, there's no animal in that story... The harp player, we called him Snake, that counts.
[ charles laughs, because yeah, he can see it — he probably wouldn't believe himself about their cases either, if he hadn't... sort of lived through them.
but he quiets, then, to listen, nodding along and appropriately makes a face at the mention of a tie — really, he gets it. formal wear? absolutely not.
and then he just, well, loses it, quite frankly, just falling sideways on the floor and giggling because — ]
Wait, seriously? They had to con you to get you to go to a harp concert? And you fell for it?
[ sorry, sorry, he'll get his mirth under control! still snickering, charles looks at him with sparkling eyes and just blurts out, ] Mate, that's right adorable.
[Hey, no laughing at him, that's very rude - except that Charles laughing makes Junpei laugh, too. He still twists to grab the pillow and chuck it vaguely at Charles on the floor.]
Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, I'm just the cutest. Do I look like someone who goes to harp concerts? In ties?
[ and because he's a nice person, charles actually lets the pillow hit him in the chest, instead of phasing through it — sure, he can't feel the hit, but it's the principle of the thing!
still grinning so hard his cheeks would be hurting if they could be, ] You are, [ and he doesn't even really notice what it is he's agreed with, because he's more focused on what follows: ]
Being honest? You don't look like someone who even owns a tie. [ immediately, he lifts his hand up, placating in advance. ] I mean, neither do I! Wouldn't go to a harp concert, either, and definitely wouldn't wear a tie. So I get it.
[Oh, he's cute, well - he'll remember that. Maybe. He sighs and flops back down on the bed, now critically without a pillow. Dang.]
I still don't own a tie. I borrowed that one.
[He definitely had the vibe of a little schoolboy on picture day who also believed for at least two hours that he was doing security detail. Now that he's thinking about it, though...]
Think this means you owe me putting on a tie. For laughing.
[ of course he doesn't own one. of course he borrowed it. all of that makes perfect sense to charles, and doesn't detract from his previous assessment of adorable.
he pauses at the request, though, tilting his head. ]
I mean, sure, guess it's fair. [ with what logic?? his, apparently. ] Now or later? [ it's a genuine question and all, because... ghost clothes. he can technically change them at any point, though he might muck up the whole suit thing without a reference picture. ]
[The idea is to be as publicly wearing a tie as possible, obviously. Just like Junpei in his silly fake bodyguard endeavor. Of course, just wearing a tie around town is nothing special, and Junpei is fairly convinced that Charles will look great in a tie, unlike him, who looks like a little baby playing dress-up in a tie...
Point being. He's got it. He snaps his fingers, then points up at the ceiling. That means nothing, but,]
[ sooooo he wants charles to embarrass himself publicly, is it? right, then, that's... fine, actually, because if it makes him laugh —
(briefly, charles thinks about when crystal off-handedly asked him if he might change his outfit sometime, like edwin did in port townsend, and he'd just waved her off immediately, saying he was comfortable in his clothes and wouldn't bother. surely the fact he's immediately agreed to wear actual bloody formalwear for junpei means absolutely nothing —) ]
Movie night? [ oh god. he's going to be so overdressed. but, with weary acceptance, ] Yeah, sure, if you want.
[A little bit of column A (publicly embarrass himself, although if nobody knows the whole context, will it even matter) and a little bit of column, uh, wanting to see Charles wearing a tie. It's fine, just like it's fine how he automatically says, immediately negating the point of his whole scheme to dress up Charles in a tie:]
You think I should dress nice? I'm supposed to be the host.
["Dress nice" here meaning "put on a shirt with buttons," but like, dress him up.]
Think you should dress however you want, it's your birthday.
[ the answer comes automatically — but, you know, now that he's giving it a bit of thought... actually, giving it a lot of thought, because he's pretty sure there's multiple ways to "dress nice" that involves absolutely zero ties, and for some reason imagining all the cool outfits he could find junpei for the movie night makes him kind of want to fall through the floor, just a bit.
out loud, he says, ] But I mean, might not hurt? I'm sure we'll figure something out that's nice but doesn't include a tie.
What, like a shirt from a pack of three instead of six?
[That's only kind of a bit, he really doesn't know how to dress nice at all. He had to have help tying that tie, back then.
To wit: he really doesn't know how to picture nice-without-a-tie, is that a suit without a tie? Who can say. He thinks his cool leather jacket, sadly not appropriate for summer, is "nice"...]
I guess we could look around. Maybe they've got those shirts that look like a tux. [sadly this is also not entirely a bit.]
[ charles, in turn, takes a moment to stare to ascertain that junpei isn't, in fact, entirely joking, and then he just lowers his head into his hands very, very slowly. for dramatic effect.
from behind his hands, he mumbles, ] Oh, bloody hell. No, no, absolutely not.
[ then, lifting his head, ] Please promise me you'll take me along when you go clothes shopping. Or let me take you, actually, that's better.
[ he actually gets up, then, picks up the pillow that's still on the floor next to him and starts walking over to the bed, holding up fingers on his free hand. one, ] Well, first off, if you wanna wear a tux, then wear a tux. Second, those shirts are bloody ugly, never seen one that doesn't look like it's made by the same people who make those bare-chest-lots-of-muscles shirts.
[ by now, he's made it to the bed, and with a smirk and a wry tone, he lets the pillow fall down right over junpei's face as he says, third finger lifted, ] And finally, because we need to get you a shirt that has a thread count higher than a 100 and fast fashion is a fucking scourge on the world.
[ look — he may not dress smart, but his clothes were, even when he was alive, always good quality; he either thrifted them, or saved up for them, like his harrington bomber jacket or his fred perry loafers, and by everything holy he's not going to let junpei continue buying shirts that come in three-packs.
... the tux tee, though — he'll try to hold his ground, but he knows all junpei has to do is laugh and he'll fold like a wet paper napkin. ]
[Oh, hey. Junpei looks up at Charles totally unsuspectingly, just listening attentively until he gets a pillow dropped on his face. Then he says hey whoa into the pillow, tugging it down to hug it against his chest.
What is fast fashion, is it like fast food... he won't voice this thought out loud. Instead he reaches up to pinch Charles' sleeve and hum, thoughtfully.]
So I can't get a bare chest muscle shirt either? [This one is completely a bit, he would Not,] My shirts aren't that bad.
[Well, they're shirts. They're serviceable. Not that he dressed any better before his edgy all black era, but that's irrelevant right now. He tugs that sleeve, which he thinks is making a point about thread counts.]
[ the joke gets him an eye roll, because no, charles doesn't believe mr. black clothes only would ever subject himself to that kind of a monstrosity; and then, to the part about his shirts, ] Mm-hm, you keep believing that.
[ well, they look good on him, so that's something, he supposes — but dressed in, say, actual trousers, maybe a pair of slacks, a properly made black tee and an oversized blazer? yeah. that's definitely a look charles could see him in, and a look he'd very much like to see him in, for absolutely no reason at all. he walks round and finds an unoccupied spot on the bed, dropping down to sit there. ]
Sure, mate. You can count on me. But that means if I see any of the Poundland stuff I will actually sneak here and replace them with good quality shirts when you're not looking.
Yeah, like... what's that again, Dollar Tree? [ there wasn't one in port townsend but crystal had talked about one, so. ] Or, uh, Daiso? [ look, niko did mention some things!! he remembers, not least because she's no longer there to tell them anything. anyway —
he does laugh at the part about supermarkets, shaking his head like he can guess it's not entirely just a joke. ]
It was more the sneaking in here part that was supposed to be threatening, not the you getting better shirts part. Which, you will. Not getting out of that, now.
It's just one room... You don't even have to sneak, you can come in whenever.
[Like, what does he do in here besides stare at the wall and drink these beers? Nothing. He honestly isn't in the room that much, so he can avoid going stir-crazy. It's better than, well, wall-staring.]
And Daiso... I haven't been to a Daiso since I was a kid. [ah, nostalgia,] Do you know Don Quijote? Not the same genre of store, but Don Quijote is... the most store.
[He can't think of any other way to describe it. There's just so much in there. You had to be there.]
Oh. [ why does the quick offer make him feel so wrong-footed, all of a sudden? charles fidgets with his hands for a bit, mumbling, ] Thanks.
[ it's probably for the better that junpei is quick to start talking about a store with a weird name, definitely a store charles isn't familiar with — but the explanation makes him chuckle. ]
The most store. [ uh-huh. reaching out, he pats junpei on the head. pat-pat-pat. ] Right. Well, good to see the plan to get you drunk hasn't been a total waste.
[Hey, wow. Junpei reaches up to tug on Charles' sleeve again, then curling his fingers around his wrist to put a stop to patting his poor drunk head like that. But if he doesn't let go, well...
Anyway. Don Quijote!!]
Ask me again when I'm hungover and I'll say the same thing. It's the most store. I'd show you, but... [the obvious. so,] Maybe in five years.
[ he doesn't seem to mind all that much that his wrist is essentially held hostage, shifting to sit a little closer. ]
... yeah. I'll hold you to that.
[ it's a nice thought — one he wants to keep believing in. gently, he reaches over with the non-hostage hand, tugs on the pillow that junpei is still sort of hugging, just so he can move it next to his head. ]
C'mon, [ he says, tapping the pillow against his head to indicate that junpei should lift his so he can slide it under, to spare his poor neck. ]
[Oh, his pillow isn't being confiscated for his Don Quijote crimes, okay. He lifts his head obligingly, which means he actually just smooshes his face into the pillow at first, then lifts his head to let Charles slide it into place. There. Flawless.
He smooths his thumb over the back of Charles' wrist without really thinking about it, fond, and:]
[ there's something strangely sweet in the casual little touch, something that makes charles let out a little exhale, the corners of his mouth tilting up slightly.
a stray strand of hair keeps trying to fall over junpei's eyes, and almost on reflex, charles moves his hand from where it's still resting on the side of the pillow and tucks it behind his ear, absently carding his fingers through his hair. ]
Think it's time for the human to get some rest, yeah? It's pretty late.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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he laughs, then, shaking his head with a fond little sigh. ] Not very professional of you, yeah? Was he mad? Seven, I mean?
[ but, ] Right, if we're trading stories... one time I freed this owl from a mausoleum, thought it was this dead witch's familiar, but, uh, turned out it was a forest deity and it was really insistent it owes me a favour, so... it took me to draw this sword out of a stone, you know, like a whole King Arthur thing and all. It also turned into a dragon, which was less cool, but anyway, that's how I got my sword. Never used it much cause I prefer the cricket bat, but... [ he shrugs and laughs sheepishly. ] Edwin made me promise to stop freeing random animals that hang round dead witches and to stop talking to random animals if they talk to me and want me to follow them.
[ a pause. ] Your turn.
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No, it was funny. Eventually. And if I didn't already know you guys can do actual magic, that would sound like complete bullshit, you know that? Magic owl dragons and swords in stones...
[He shakes his head again, amused; he believes it! It's also very fantastical, especially when he has no magical dragon stories of his own to share. He drums his fingers on the beer bottle, thinking.]
So uh, I got to play bodyguard once, I guess? One of my friends is a professional harp player, if you can believe that, and his sister- Clover- tells me that his fans are nuts so I've gotta hang around at this performance or else. She made me put on a tie.
[Pause for dramatic effect. Lamentation about wearing a tie, etc.]
Turns out, it was a con to get me to go to a harp concert, except I still had to stand the whole time. [...,] Uh, there's no animal in that story... The harp player, we called him Snake, that counts.
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but he quiets, then, to listen, nodding along and appropriately makes a face at the mention of a tie — really, he gets it. formal wear? absolutely not.
and then he just, well, loses it, quite frankly, just falling sideways on the floor and giggling because — ]
Wait, seriously? They had to con you to get you to go to a harp concert? And you fell for it?
[ sorry, sorry, he'll get his mirth under control! still snickering, charles looks at him with sparkling eyes and just blurts out, ] Mate, that's right adorable.
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[Hey, no laughing at him, that's very rude - except that Charles laughing makes Junpei laugh, too. He still twists to grab the pillow and chuck it vaguely at Charles on the floor.]
Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, I'm just the cutest. Do I look like someone who goes to harp concerts? In ties?
[A tie, Charles!!]
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still grinning so hard his cheeks would be hurting if they could be, ] You are, [ and he doesn't even really notice what it is he's agreed with, because he's more focused on what follows: ]
Being honest? You don't look like someone who even owns a tie. [ immediately, he lifts his hand up, placating in advance. ] I mean, neither do I! Wouldn't go to a harp concert, either, and definitely wouldn't wear a tie. So I get it.
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I still don't own a tie. I borrowed that one.
[He definitely had the vibe of a little schoolboy on picture day who also believed for at least two hours that he was doing security detail. Now that he's thinking about it, though...]
Think this means you owe me putting on a tie. For laughing.
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he pauses at the request, though, tilting his head. ]
I mean, sure, guess it's fair. [ with what logic?? his, apparently. ] Now or later? [ it's a genuine question and all, because... ghost clothes. he can technically change them at any point, though he might muck up the whole suit thing without a reference picture. ]
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[The idea is to be as publicly wearing a tie as possible, obviously. Just like Junpei in his silly fake bodyguard endeavor. Of course, just wearing a tie around town is nothing special, and Junpei is fairly convinced that Charles will look great in a tie, unlike him, who looks like a little baby playing dress-up in a tie...
Point being. He's got it. He snaps his fingers, then points up at the ceiling. That means nothing, but,]
Wear it to movie night.
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(briefly, charles thinks about when crystal off-handedly asked him if he might change his outfit sometime, like edwin did in port townsend, and he'd just waved her off immediately, saying he was comfortable in his clothes and wouldn't bother. surely the fact he's immediately agreed to wear actual bloody formalwear for junpei means absolutely nothing —) ]
Movie night? [ oh god. he's going to be so overdressed. but, with weary acceptance, ] Yeah, sure, if you want.
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You think I should dress nice? I'm supposed to be the host.
["Dress nice" here meaning "put on a shirt with buttons," but like, dress him up.]
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[ the answer comes automatically — but, you know, now that he's giving it a bit of thought... actually, giving it a lot of thought, because he's pretty sure there's multiple ways to "dress nice" that involves absolutely zero ties, and for some reason imagining all the cool outfits he could find junpei for the movie night makes him kind of want to fall through the floor, just a bit.
out loud, he says, ] But I mean, might not hurt? I'm sure we'll figure something out that's nice but doesn't include a tie.
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[That's only kind of a bit, he really doesn't know how to dress nice at all. He had to have help tying that tie, back then.
To wit: he really doesn't know how to picture nice-without-a-tie, is that a suit without a tie? Who can say. He thinks his cool leather jacket, sadly not appropriate for summer, is "nice"...]
I guess we could look around. Maybe they've got those shirts that look like a tux. [sadly this is also not entirely a bit.]
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from behind his hands, he mumbles, ] Oh, bloody hell. No, no, absolutely not.
[ then, lifting his head, ] Please promise me you'll take me along when you go clothes shopping. Or let me take you, actually, that's better.
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I mean, if you want, but what's wrong with my shirt idea?
[Chaaaarles. Play with him in this space.]
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[ he actually gets up, then, picks up the pillow that's still on the floor next to him and starts walking over to the bed, holding up fingers on his free hand. one, ] Well, first off, if you wanna wear a tux, then wear a tux. Second, those shirts are bloody ugly, never seen one that doesn't look like it's made by the same people who make those bare-chest-lots-of-muscles shirts.
[ by now, he's made it to the bed, and with a smirk and a wry tone, he lets the pillow fall down right over junpei's face as he says, third finger lifted, ] And finally, because we need to get you a shirt that has a thread count higher than a 100 and fast fashion is a fucking scourge on the world.
[ look — he may not dress smart, but his clothes were, even when he was alive, always good quality; he either thrifted them, or saved up for them, like his harrington bomber jacket or his fred perry loafers, and by everything holy he's not going to let junpei continue buying shirts that come in three-packs.
... the tux tee, though — he'll try to hold his ground, but he knows all junpei has to do is laugh and he'll fold like a wet paper napkin. ]
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What is fast fashion, is it like fast food... he won't voice this thought out loud. Instead he reaches up to pinch Charles' sleeve and hum, thoughtfully.]
So I can't get a bare chest muscle shirt either? [This one is completely a bit, he would Not,] My shirts aren't that bad.
[Well, they're shirts. They're serviceable. Not that he dressed any better before his edgy all black era, but that's irrelevant right now. He tugs that sleeve, which he thinks is making a point about thread counts.]
You'll have to show me the good stuff, then.
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[ well, they look good on him, so that's something, he supposes — but dressed in, say, actual trousers, maybe a pair of slacks, a properly made black tee and an oversized blazer? yeah. that's definitely a look charles could see him in, and a look he'd very much like to see him in, for absolutely no reason at all. he walks round and finds an unoccupied spot on the bed, dropping down to sit there. ]
Sure, mate. You can count on me. But that means if I see any of the Poundland stuff I will actually sneak here and replace them with good quality shirts when you're not looking.
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He turns on his side to face Charles, still hugging the pillow.]
Poundland...? Like, a dollar store? [give him a point for knowing what a pound is,] That's mean. I get my three-packs from the supermarket.
[Pause for laugh track. Okay. He's not not serious, but once that sneaker money is gone, it's Hanes all the way down.]
Anyway, I don't think that's as threatening as you think it is... It sounds like I get better shirts no matter what.
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he does laugh at the part about supermarkets, shaking his head like he can guess it's not entirely just a joke. ]
It was more the sneaking in here part that was supposed to be threatening, not the you getting better shirts part. Which, you will. Not getting out of that, now.
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[Like, what does he do in here besides stare at the wall and drink these beers? Nothing. He honestly isn't in the room that much, so he can avoid going stir-crazy. It's better than, well, wall-staring.]
And Daiso... I haven't been to a Daiso since I was a kid. [ah, nostalgia,] Do you know Don Quijote? Not the same genre of store, but Don Quijote is... the most store.
[He can't think of any other way to describe it. There's just so much in there. You had to be there.]
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[ it's probably for the better that junpei is quick to start talking about a store with a weird name, definitely a store charles isn't familiar with — but the explanation makes him chuckle. ]
The most store. [ uh-huh. reaching out, he pats junpei on the head. pat-pat-pat. ] Right. Well, good to see the plan to get you drunk hasn't been a total waste.
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Anyway. Don Quijote!!]
Ask me again when I'm hungover and I'll say the same thing. It's the most store. I'd show you, but... [the obvious. so,] Maybe in five years.
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... yeah. I'll hold you to that.
[ it's a nice thought — one he wants to keep believing in. gently, he reaches over with the non-hostage hand, tugs on the pillow that junpei is still sort of hugging, just so he can move it next to his head. ]
C'mon, [ he says, tapping the pillow against his head to indicate that junpei should lift his so he can slide it under, to spare his poor neck. ]
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[Oh, his pillow isn't being confiscated for his Don Quijote crimes, okay. He lifts his head obligingly, which means he actually just smooshes his face into the pillow at first, then lifts his head to let Charles slide it into place. There. Flawless.
He smooths his thumb over the back of Charles' wrist without really thinking about it, fond, and:]
Thanks.
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a stray strand of hair keeps trying to fall over junpei's eyes, and almost on reflex, charles moves his hand from where it's still resting on the side of the pillow and tucks it behind his ear, absently carding his fingers through his hair. ]
Think it's time for the human to get some rest, yeah? It's pretty late.
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i'm closing my eyes
see no evil hear no evil--
what's gayer, being gay or whatever they're doing now
theyre the "homosexuality doesn't even begin to explain the behaviour these men are exhibiting" meme
that & clown to clown communication... 🎀