[Closed] misteaks' mistakes (catchall)

[gluttoning]

Who: Misteaks and also some other people
What: Event catchall + dungeon runs
When: August - September, maybe later who knows
Where: various, please note in headers
Content Warnings: parental death, child abuse (emotional/verbal), child death, ED mention. Please cw in headers.

[overflow and log space for August and September]

Comments

[gluttoning]

Yeah.

[It's weird to say out loud, and the nerves hit him a little more than he expects. But he's proud to be at this school, on this team, doing this sport. It's what he's good at

It's all he's good at.]

I play for Cal, with the Bears. Second string, so you probably won't see me anyway unless something goes wrong. But we still have our first division game coming up in about a week.

Even if you can't watch... it would feel nice knowing a friend is wanting my team to do well.

[tablescraps]

( There's a few moments while Mithrun digs through his mental repository of real world knowledge that he has in his head but is kind of dusty because he hasn't accessed it much in the past two years.

Ah.

Mithrun nods. He recognizes that Barrett probably doesn't want to be very forthcoming about details of his real life, like most players here, and that Barrett shared that with him anyway. )

... Okay. I'll watch. How often do they play?

( He knows of football and California's teams, as well as the general big teams and such (sports is way too common a topic irl for him not to know them during his socialite days), but he's never actually like, paid much attention. How does it work? He doesn't do much else, anyway. Literally just sits around all day or plays Fragment. )

[gluttoning]

[Ah. It's a simple answer, but he still grins. It's been so busy, he can't recall even inviting anyone from his classes...]

Once a week. Every Saturday until the end of November.

A lot of the younger guys are nervous. But it makes us feel better and helps us try our hardest, when we know someone is out there for us.

So... I'll think of you, if I get my chance on the field.

[tablescraps]

( Every Saturday... logged.

But wtf that's sweet... Especially with that smile. Even Mithrun picks up on that. The saccharine flavor's strong enough to get through his senses. )

... Okay.

( Considers... )

... If you do get to play, I could probably come see, if you tell me. It wouldn't be hard for me.

( His words carry a suggestion of if you want. He isn't being conscientious so much as he understands there might be a boundary of physicality Barrett might not like crossed, even if Mithrun doesn't say this with a specific intent to meet him, just watch with everyone else in the stands. It wouldn't offend him if Barrett redirected him back to watching from behind a screen. )

[gluttoning]

...

You would?

[He has no idea where Morgan even lives to bother offering this... wouldn't TV be easier?

The light from the other end of the tunnel catches the end of the boat, catches the open surprise on his face of a request he very clearly wasn't expecting, how he weighs it.]

...Yeah. You could come watch in person, if you wanted. I wouldn't mind. We're playing in Berkeley this week.

I can't promise I'll be out a lot. Second string means I'm just the backup. You know, if someone gets hurt or if our main players need to rest. But...

It would be cool to think you're out in the stands.

[tablescraps]

Okay. I'll be there.

( He's about to give his carer a heart attack by saying he's going to Berkley this weekend with absolutely no context. Rip to that guy.

The light slides across his face gradually, his gaze expectant, his lips all blue. He hasn't been on a trip in a long time. )

You'll still be at the stadium, right? I won't be very loud, but I'll cheer.

( Mithrun 🧍ing in the stands with a giant CalBear foam finger and a CalBear soda hat. It's definitely the thought that counts. )

[gluttoning]

[There's a breathy halt of a laugh that sneaks out, half between the sight of his lips and half the idea of Morgan cheering for anything with any kind of energy. Maybe he and Booker really would get along.]

Yeah. I'll be on the bench.

I'll listen for you. You, and my brothers, and Fai... I'll listen as much as I can.

[A beat, and he carefully taps his index finger to his own lips.]

Your mouth turned all blue while we were in there. Heh.

[tablescraps]

( His gaze lingers on Barrett, his expression, and that soft sort of laugh. It makes him feel something he isn't sure he has a word for. Positive regard, maybe.

(Fai... that sounds familiar... he feels like he's seen a Fai around...)

But, !, at the mention of the blue. He sticks out his tongue like he's trying to see it but, well, that sure doesn't work. They should probably be getting out of the boat or telling the NPC if they want to go again, but Mithrun isn't focused on that. )

... Show me your mouth.

( are you blue ba da bee... )

[gluttoning]

[He nods and sticks his tongue out obediently for a moment.

It's a bright, unnatural cherry red.]

Is it on my teeth? I wonder if I look like a dinosaur.

[tablescraps]

( !!!!! )

... It's red.

( He seems thoroughly impressed. )

Do dinosaurs have colored teeth? ... Your teeth are red, too.

[gluttoning]

They had to, right? Like...

[He takes his own hand into his teeth for a moment, growling and shaking it around like a dog with a chew toy.]

Like that. They'd be messy.

[tablescraps]

( ahhh he gets it

... Heheh. )

Probably. They couldn't use a fork or knife, for one.

( tehe )

[gluttoning]

With those tiny arms? No way.

[The NPC running the ride looks bleaky onward with undying patience as these two giggle like dumbasses.]

You look like you just had a smurf for dinner.

[tablescraps]

Hmm.

( A faintly amused sound. )

Maybe I should have another smurf. I can't help it if they don't taste so bad.

[gluttoning]

[He snorts a little in delight, finally acknowledging the ride operator as he steadies himself to get out of the boat.]

We can find more blue stuff around here somewhere. Or just more of that slushie.

[He'll hold out a hand for Mithrun to take to get back up to the docks, if he wants.]

Are you still feeling dizzy?

[tablescraps]

( Oh - he'd totally forgotten where they were. He was only seeing Barrett, as if they were still in that dim tunnel.

A beat, gazing up at Barrett, before he reaches and takes his hand firmly in his own, pulling himself up onto the dock. He doesn't pull his hand away, but he doesn't make it hard for Barrett to let go, either. )

... Not as much. I could go for something new. We can come back for the slushie another time.

[gluttoning]

Mn. I can show you that fried pickle stand, then. I think they've got a cotton candy vendor nearby that sells it in blue, if you want sweet again.

[He does notice his hand is still being held, so he gives it a squeeze as a reminder.]

You still wanna hang on? I don't mind.

[tablescraps]

( Oh, he doesn't seem to have noticed that, either.

He looks down at their hands, then back up at Barrett. )

... I don't mind.

( More telling than what he says, though, is that he moves forward, away from the dock, and back to the carnival - apparently not indifferent to their snack tour. )

... Let's go. To both those things.

[gluttoning]

Heheh. You got it.

[He keeps his grip loose and comfortable, letting Mithrun lead for once. It's a nice touch, and a nice conversation, and a nice stroll into sound and smells and tastes that focus on the here and now.

Maybe they could leave those echoes in the mirrors where they belonged.]