altimit | [closed]

[closed]

Who: Owen & people witnessing his no good very bad forced openness.
What: Sometimes dungeon run effects aren't super fun?
When: Early October.
Warnings: gazes... likely mentions of child abuse, neglect, death & violence/physical assault, suicidal ideation, mental illness, ptsd, possibly also gender identity, transphobia and homophobia?? specific cws will be in the threads but this is not going to be a fun time for anyone. yay!

If anyone wants a thread with Owen while under the effect still, I am a) still working on some more starters but b) feel free to ask for one! Or if you want one in the fallout. There won't be anything tied to the event in this post, however, so wait for me over there.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Oh? Do you think that highly of me?

[ To think he doesn't struggle? Admittedly, his struggles are purely mental and those tend to be less obvious. On the outside, he functions and he does so very well. Although, for now, all the functioning he's doing is making pancakes, and the kitchen soon fills with the sound of sizzling batter on a hot-buttered pan and the delightful smell of a sweet breakfast. ]

Why don't you name a few things you think I may not know the recipe for? We can make a game of it some other day.

Well, I definitely don't think you're perfect.

[Fandaniel is a total dweeb, after all. He might be a mostly functional adult and a very intelligent man, or whatever, but he probably can't do the splits.

The pancakes smell good, though... He's so hungry. He's also not sure asking an English person about recipes is a best idea - he might have left the country ages ago, but there are some things you cannot forget even if he would hardly enjoy them.]

Let's see... Sticky toffee pudding, mince pies, Eccles cakes, stargazey pie....?

[One of those is a curveball, but he's not telling Fandaniel which one.]

You people and your pies...

[ How many pies do the English have? Only the first two ring a bell, however, and the remaining two earn a puzzled look from Fandaniel before he turns back to flipping pancakes. The first stack is almost ready. ]

What in the world are Eccles cakes and stargazey pies?

What's wrong with pies?

[They're delicious!]

If I told you what they were, would it really be that fun? You could just guess.

[That's part of the challenge! Nobody said it had to be fair.]

[ Pies, pies, pies. He'll make five dozen and expect Owen to eat every last one at this rate. ]

I could guess but I will guess incorrectly. [ Which is what Owen wants, isn't it? Maybe he should just give that to him, the little shit. ] For all I know, you've begun making up food for the fun of it because who actually studies British cuisine?

[He'll do it. He's not a coward.]

Nobody who actually cares about food, but I can assure you that all of those are very real. Perhaps a bit regional or dated, but real.

[Well. He can throw Fandaniel a bone, maybe.]

Stargazey pie is a savory pie. Does that help?

A savory pie. Hmm, I suppose, although I would have assumed a sweet pie. Stargazey sounds too cute for savory.

[ Gazing at the stars, etc, etc. How distressed he will be once the truth behind stargazey pie is revealed, if it ever is. ]

It has that name for a reason, but I won't tell you what that is unless you're really desperate.

[If only it was for a cute reason and not a horrifying one. Owen doesn't even like fish pies so he's just setting himself up for disappointment...]

Be prepared for something completely off base, in that case.

[ Stargazey, stargazey, what could that even be? Well, no matter. The pancakes are all piled high on two, yes, two plates, because he also wants to eat, and then he pulls out whatever monster-based syrup he has on hand to bring along to the table, along with some knives and forks and such.

They're set down. One plate right before Owen, the other by Fandaniel's own seat. ]

I'm sure I'll be impressed with your attempts no matter what.

[Totally not sarcastic at all. Totally.

He finally hops off his perch on the counter, following Fandaniel to the table like a cat who knows breakfast is five minutes late, you monster. Still, after grabbing a fork, he does... pause for a moment.]

Thanks for cooking breakfast...

You are very welcome, my pretty little — and incredibly hungry — Owen.

[ He says that with an obnoxious amount of grandiosity before scooching a chair out and taking a seat. Time to dig in! ]

Really, though, I always enjoy the chance to cook for someone. I never did out there...

[ In that other world, the terrible one. ]

Are you making fun of me?

[Little? He’s so much taller than Fandaniel!

Still, the pancakes are good and he can’t remember the last time he ate before being knocked out, so he polishes them off in no time.]

It seems like a waste to keep this all to yourself.

Hmm, maybe... a tiny bit.

[ Ahahahaha, okay, no, he's just amusing himself at this point. To stave off further bad jokes, he digs into his own pancakes. They are, indeed, good. ]

A waste? [ There, though, he pauses a moment and looks across the table at Owen again, though this is followed by a shrug. ] It is what it is. I told you, I've only the one friend in reality and he isn't local. How could I possibly cook for him?

[Rude!! Not that Owen doesn’t deserve being teased.]

Well, clearly you should move to California. You can feed my dogs, who I’m sure would appreciate the extra attention.

[The dogs. Not Owen, who obviously doesn’t need people to do anything for him because he’s a self-sufficient person who doesn’t need anyone in his life and definitely doesn’t have a fear of connection.]

So I have been told, repeatedly.

[ The move to California part, not the, uh, dogs. ]

Dogs, though... I admit I have very little experience with dogs, which is not to say I would not like them, of course, but.

[ Would they like him? ]

[There’s a brief pause, as Owen looks at Fandaniel with a curious look. Then he laughs, bright, cheerful, and surprisingly genuine.]

Are you worried they’d reject you?

[Cute… That’s very cute.]

Well, I don’t think you have any reason to.

You never know! They might. Although, if they are less picky about humans than their master is...

[ Meaning Owen is definitely a judgemental and highly picky bitch, okay? Although that is a bit of the kettle calling the pot black here. ]

[Being picky means he has standards.]

Dogs are good judges of characters. If they don't like you, it would be for a reason... but you don't hold any ill-will towards me or have bad intentions, do you?

[Like murder!]

Do I need to worry about what you might want from me?

Well, if they can sense my disdain for your lack of decor sensibilities, then they may very well dislike me for that, but otherwise?

[ A shrug. He does not. There's no reason to have ill-will toward Owen on any serious account, is there? ]

I would call it doubtful.

If that’s the only problem you have with me, I think the dogs would be fine.

[It’s not like Fandaniel is going to murder him over something like that - which is perhaps too low of a bar, but so it goes.]

Though… Ah, nevermind.

I suppose I would have to bring offerings for them...

[ Snackrifices, to be exact. Fandaniel stuffs his mouth with syrupy pancake before quirking an eyebrow at how Owen never finishes that thought. What? What was that? Chew chew chew, swallow. ]

Well, what is it, man? Don't you 'nevermind' me.

Offerings? Hardly. They don't need to be spoiled any more than they already are.

[And they're very, very spoiled... The dogs are better off than Owen is, most of the time, so it's a shame that he's stuck here.]

I can "nevermind" whoever I want to.

[Well, he's done with his pancakes now! Look at the time. Time to flee from this conversation.]

Goodness, someone's being bratty this morning, even after being fed.

[ Fandaniel should push but... Owen is already moving to leave, isn't he? So he could just keep walking away even if he did. Irritating. But also not worth abandoning the rest of his own breakfast for. ]

Fine, run on away, then. I suppose you don't consider me enough of a friend to confide in me by choice.

[Well. That does get Owen to pause in his retreat, going still in the doorway.

He doesn’t look back at him, but he’s… thinking.]

And here I thought we getting too friendly and you might appreciate some distance between us. It seems neither of us know what we mean or think of each other, hm?

Neither of us...? [ A scoff. ] Owen, I would not have gone to the efforts of the potion and breakfast if I did not think...

[ Think what, exactly? There's a bit of an awkward pause and he frowns, somewhat. He knows what he told Owen before. He has only the one friend and... and his plans are... ]

If I did not think. That I enjoy your company.

[ Yeah, even that, is a bit awkward. He isn't good at this when he's being honest, Owen! ]

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me when i google stargazey pie... wtf... wtf? wtf???

england is fucked up...

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