During a Storm (Open!)

(Skip me. Don't have anything to say.)

Spark giggled. It was like her mom's outbursts. "I totally am. My mom's a stickler for real proper grammar."

Slyph stared at the little girl a moment. "Huh." Was all he said on the matter.

"Well. You sound quite precocious." Not wanting to follow up with a 'for a five year old', Slyph left it at that.

"Your ice cream fell." Slyph nodded towards the remnants of Nameless' fight against physics.

"Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,
The lone and level ice cream stretch far away."

He recited, adding an addendum to the segment of the poem to make it more apropos. Adding a somber flourish of his hand, he whipped a pretend tear from his eye.

That wasn't- Okay, so it was a little funny. Samantha rewarded the recital by letting out a soft 'hah', followed by a "Fuck Ozymandias."

Probably not the most suitable language in front of a five year old, but Nameless did not particularly care. She had both heard and seen worse things when that age.

"I rarely talked when I was five," she mused between scoops of ice cream, "Teach thought I had serious mental issues. "

Spark giggled again. Not often would she have heard someone randomly recite a poem. "I have courage. I... Hardly have real super good friends, though." she said. Being as energetic as she was, she was quick to friend anyone. But round adults, it was harder to friend them. She struck up Art as a topic next, as she started to think about the different forms of art. "So, your a... A... preforming artist?" she asked Slyph, as he was the one to have done the prefomence.

"Haha- SHH!" Slyph chuckled, then serious-ed. Surprised by the sudden profanity, he applied what he deemed to be appropriate pressure to Nameless' foot under the table.

Like many high school students, Slyph swore often enough. He was no sailor, but he did pick up some unique curses from books on the golden age of piracy. He never swore in front of anyone who was younger or older than him by four years.

"I don't think Shelley appreciated that!" His stern expression broke into a giggle he desperately tried to suppress.

Despite his reprimand, he couldn't hide the satisfaction on his face. There was nothing so fulfilling to the boy as telling a good joke to the right audience, and having it be recognized and appreciated.

On the youngest girl's query on his recitation, Slyph blushed furiously.

"A... performance artist?" His eyes widened. The image of him standing under a spotlight talking to a skull only made the idea more ridiculous.

"No! No. God no. Absolutely not- God No. Not a... Er... Ah... No I am not a... Ha. No I am not."

"I just... read a lot of books." He coughed lightly.

"That one's far too afraid of what people think of him," Nameless said, waving a spoon in the direction of Slyph, "You'd want to be able to take the risk of making a complete fool of yourself in front of an audience." Her gaze turned to the boy in question. "Though if you want to try, I know a place where you can every weekday night, except Fridays."

Inwardly, Nameless was trying to get a clear picture of Spark. It was proving surprisingly difficult. She giggled a lot, that was true. She was also extraordinarily verbose for someone of her age, but not in the show-offish way.

"So...is your mother some sort of English teacher, or something like that?"

"Nope. A bote-Bote.... A flower grower! I have trouble saying the actual term sometimes." she said. She sat still so that Nameless could see her. She sneezed again, followed by a cough this time. "Ow..."

"H-hey!" The boy objected to Nameless' accusations.

He raised a finger, but found no proper riposte. For a moment he felt vulnerable, and it showed in his face. Seizing the moment, he parried the blow.

"Is it the same my mother calls a 'house of ill repute'? What would I do there? Be a..." He trailed off as he glanced blankly at the Spark.

Too late. Can't go back. You have dug your own grave, Gongjiang.

"...Lady of the Night?" He deemed to be the only acceptable phrase.

Slyph purposefully and melodramatically shifted his body to give Spark his full attention.

"Ro-Bot?" A simple smile found its way onto his face. "Or... Oh a Bota... Bota..."

A sudden expression of intense pain came to the boy.

"Bota... Bota..." He stared pleadingly at Nameless, then at where Whitewoods disappeared, and back to Nameless.

"Florist," said Nameless said, tone not leaving it's usual flatness. She blinked at three cups of freshly hot tea that had somehow replaced her empty ice cream bowl. Okay, Whitewoods. Now you're just showing off.

Picking one of the cups up and pushing the other two towards her companions, she then said, "The Stanza's just a place where intellectuals, psuedo- or otherwise click their fingers at other intellectuals." She sipped her tea. Orange juice. "And I doubt you's be able to pass as a lady, Slyph, of the night or otherwise."

She lazily gestured to Spark. "What do you think? Put Gongjiang in a dress and apron and one of those head frilly things. Think he could pass for a girl?"

"Hm... Add a bit of makeup, and he's set. With the clothes, of course." she said.

"Oh god. Beatnicks." Slyph stuck out his tongue in disgust. "With their berrets and their sunglasses that they were indoors. AT NIGHT. He-llo you don't need them! No no. Doesn't sound like the place for me. I think I'll take my poetry how I take the rest of my art intake. Seen but not heard, thank you."

At Nameless' reference to him by his last name, he let out a sigh of contempt.

"Don't refer to people by their last names, Nameless, It makes you sound like a army sergeant. Or a gym teacher." He riposted smartly, adopting a face of reprimanding disapproval.

"Now I can't shake the image of you in oversized sweat pants and a wife-beater, screeching into a megaphone."

He took a sip from the tea, confident in his comeback, but paused as he was about to set it down. Had it gotten fuller and hotter all the sudden? He glanced at Nameless, Suspicious.

Samantha looked at Slyph strangely, unsure whether he was still acting the idiot for Spark. As such, her speech was slow and clear, to make sure the meaning was understood.

"Samantha Nameless," she said, pointing at herself. She then pointed at Spark. "Star Spark."
She pointed at Whitewoods, who was holding a notepad and wearing a cap and round sunglasses. "Whitew-hat are you doing?"

Whitewoods acted she did not suddenly appear wearing a ridiculous get-up. "I was wondering if Sparkie was ready to order something?" She jerked her head to side.

...

Whitewoods then removed her sunglasses and then gave a huge wink, before putting them back on.

"Um... I don't have any money, Ma'am." she said. She was hungry though.

"Oh." Slyph let slip a moments fear, So that was her LAST name.

Last name.

You stupid boy! No wits at all! Why in my day we'd-

The Holy Terror disappeared from his mind. At Spark's confession of poverty, he gladly took the opportunity.

Slyph slyly looked into his wallet. He didn't have THAT much money, but...

"I got you covered du-uhhh..." He looked up to the bizarre sight of Whitewoods.

"I... uh... Don't blink at me as if I know what your doing!" He cried out indignantly.

It was at this point that Samantha was fully expecting a laugh track to reply to Slyph's indignation. She took a sip of her orange juice tea to hide her own bemusement. "No beret?"

Whitewoods snorted and waved off the suggestion. "Berets are passe, overdone, plebian. Anyone who is anyone knows that Newsboy caps are what the true elite go for." She removed her glasses and winked again. "Oh! And before I forget." She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a set of bunny ears. "I wanna see how well you pull off these."

Spark giggled. Bunny ears were so funny to her, for some reason. She just found them so realistic.

((thank you for your patience!))

"Really? But berets go so well with the all black skinny jeans and turtlenecks look. Really upbeat style, Don't you agree?"

Despite the obvious recipient being Sam, Slyph waved a hand graciously at the ears. "I'm flattered, really. But I try not to wear anything that could result in blackmail." Without waiting for a response, he rolled his eyes and reached for the ears.

"Oh well if you all insist. Just this once." Its truly easy to do foolish things when one doesn't think to much.

Gallantly, he set the bunny ear headband on his head. He took a deep breath and gulped down, trying not to let the blush growing in his cheeks show.

Glancing into his reflection in the mirror, Slyph raised a brow.

"Oh. Oh man." He let ooze out a groan of wanting. "Wouldn't I have friends if I wore these to school? Wouldn't I be cool?" Giving his poutiest of lip juts, he turned pleadingly to Nameless.

"Validate meee..." He whined.

"I am the last person on Earth with that kind of authority," Nameless responded between sips of tea, "Though I would doubt the sincerity of any friendship formed over the existence of rabbit ears."

Whitewoods stared at Slyph, before raising a hand up to her mouth and 'ohoho'-ing like an amused noblewoman before saying, "How gallant, taking the fall for Samantha. Hmm..." Her eyes narrowed behind her glasses. "Six out of ten. A decent attempt, but nowhere near the cuteness of Samantha in a maid outfit."

At these words, Samantha put her cup down and gave Whitewoods a harsh stare, to which the mischievous eatery owner only gave a grin as a reply.