fandomtownies | The Perk, Saturday Afternoon

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The Perk, Saturday Afternoon

This time last year, Jono was scrounging up parts in order to put up a temporary stage, so that his little nameless band and Glee Club could put on a public show on the beach that just so happened to have a large bonfire burning nearby along with it. That half the island had wound up being in a particularly musical mood that day had been an added bonus, and the fireworks hadn't been too terribly disappointing, either.

This year, five years later for him, Jono was a little more sedate about... pretty much everything. He was sitting at a table in the Perk, mostly just thankful that the crisp November weather gave him an excuse to wear a scarf around that weird new face of his.

His biggest dilemma this year wasn't how to go about scrounging up enough scrap wood from the warehouse district to make a stage, though stage-building was still on his mind in a slightly more professional sense. At the moment, he'd be content to struggle with the choice between getting a caramel hot chocolate, or keeping his face covered and just people-watching on his day off.

[Open Perk is open! Keep me sane while I work on this robot design package for school?]

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Deadpool had originally been planning to get something horrifically sweet for Jan and then tossing her at Nate to see what happened.

Because he was an amazing parent.

But once he looked into the window, he couldn't stop laughing. And gasping something about 'Poccy lips'. So. There was that.

... Somehow, there were worse fates than being laughed at. Like most of the things that led up to this point in Jonothon's life.

Either way, the moment Jono noticed Deadpool laughing his ass off out there like an utter twit, he very gracefully made a gesture at him through the window.

A totally polite one. Honest.

Ronan wandered into the Perk, passing an idle day with no errantry and no off-world crises. An idle day that required all the chocolates.

"I'll have an extra-large, extra hot, soy, double raspberry, vanilla-bean hot chocolate, for here, no whip, extra foam," he rattled off at the barista. "And a brownie. No, make that two brownies. And a chocolate oat cake."

Seriously. All the chocolates.

Order in hand a few moments later, he started looking around for a seat, his eyes eventually falling on Jono near the back. He grinned and moved in that direction. "This seat taken?" he asked, nodding at an empty seat at Jono's table.

Jono's eyebrow inched upwards a little, and then his shoulders followed suit in a bit of a shrug. He didn't know the guy, but he seemed pleasant enough. Or, at least, he wasn't pointing and laughing or anything.

"I might not be th'greatest company, mate. But I'm not waiting for anybody else to take it, if that's what you're asking."

The seat was totally free, Ronan. Jono would be Jono, was all.

"I suppose I'll have to be company enough for the both of us, then," Ronan replied, laughing softly as he set his food and drink down. "Ronan Nolan. How d'you do?"

Ronan may have idly pushed the plate with the brownies a little closer to the middle of the table, yes, if Jono wanted to take that as an invitation to partake.

Oh, Ronan. You cheating bastard, offering him chocolate. Jono eyed the plate hungrily. Being able to taste again was never going to be a novelty that would wear off. Chocolate was going to be the death of him yet.

"Charmed," he replied, looking up from the plate while miraculously resisting the urge to reach for one right off the bat. "And I'm Jonothon. Jonothon Starsmore."

"Pleasure to meet you, Jonothon," Ronan said, contemplating nudging the plate a little closer. He decided not to for the moment, though -- the offer stood as it was. "Are you new in town? I don't believe I've seen you around."

No one had ever died from chocolate, that Ronan knew of.

... No humans had ever died from chocolate, that Ronan knew of. There were a few species he knew off who... were better off without it. Unfortunately.

"Yes and no," came Jono's reply, his shoulder hitching up again in another shrug. "Fandom graduate, 2011. A few months here, a few years back home. Faces change."

To say the least.

"Though I must regretfully admit that if I've seen you around, I don't entirely recall."

In his own defence, it had been years.

Ronan nodded. "Class of '09, for me -- a couple of years away, both here and at home, but I've been back here for a few months now. Working in the clinic.

"So maybe we just missed each other, then?"

"Entirely possible. Unless you happened to notice the scrawny bloke in all-leather with bandages up to here," Jono noted with a vague gesture toward his nose. "I was difficult to miss back then, I suppose."

The fact that he used to smell like burning tires might have helped, too.

"Scrawny?" Ronan asked, eyeing Jonothon a little. "Definitely a few changes, then," he said, grinning a little wider. "The last few years were good to you, then."

... What? It's not like he had any idea.

To his credit, Jonothon managed to refrain from squirming too much at that statement.

"Good to my biceps, perhaps."

Otherwise, they'd been a fairly nightmarish few years.

"Eventful, at least."

Ronan was, at least, perceptive enough to catch that his foot had rather swiftly entered his mouth.

"Eventful is... A fairly careful term," he suggested, wincing a bit. "I shan't ask. But it sounds like you could use a brownie." He nodded at the plate. "Help yourself."

"Persistent, aren't you, mate?" Jono glanced down at the plate again, and then sighed, pulling his scarf down more than a touch tentatively. "But if you're so bent on giving away your food, I won't go on refusing, I suppose."

There he went, giving in and reaching for a brownie.

"... Thank you."

"You're welcome," Ronan said, grinning. "I knew I'd wear you down eventually.

"Besides, I'm persistent at most things I do -- remarkable stamina, really. Comes in very handy."

Oh, Ronan, you were getting a weird sort of sideways look now, while Jono froze with his mouth open, brownie between his teeth.

... Sorry, brownie. You were going to have to wait for a moment.

"Is that so?"

And now he was kind of boggling. He was pretty certain that there was flirting happening, here.

Really?

Oh, there was totally flirting happening.

"I'm a healer," Ronan 'explained'. "Sometimes you're working with a patient for hours, or sometimes you've got a steady stream of people to work on. Being able to stay on your feet without worrying about collapsing? Totally a good thing."

Ronan just keeps going, and going, and going...

Really, now. If Jono was at all interested in guys that way, he'd probably go about checking up Ronan's arse for Energizers.

"A healer, hm? My, but this island seems to collect your sort, doesn't it?"

Not that he was complaining, really. There were a few healers that he was actually fairly fond of. He was just somewhat bemused at the fact that they all seemed to zero in on him.

At least Ronan wasn't going, "LET ME FIX YOU!" at him? Although he'd be more than happy to give Jono a... thorough examination.

"I don't know about that," he said. "At least, no moreso than it collects fight-y types. Mind you, I'm kind of one of those, too, so maybe I skew things?"

Silly Ronan. It's "Your pain, give it to me." There was a very distinct difference. Kind of. Raven was rather endearing when she got all healer-ish at people.

"You're just trying to draw from every possible demographic you can at once, aren't you, mate?" Jonothon actually smirked faintly, at that. "No harm in that, I suppose."

At some point, the brownie was actually going to make it into his mouth. Honest.

"Well, I'm not the best at research," Ronan suggested, "and more than a few of the island's... problems... have been solved by our bookish types. But I do what I can, I suppose, and I'm rather good at that."

He grinned, and popped a piece of cookie into his mouth. "So," he said, after chewing and swallowing, "what brings you back here? Town or school?"

Desperation, actually, but Jono wasn't going to delve into that, at the moment.

"Town," he said, instead. "I've got myself a job at th'Boards, doing renovations while the owner prepares the place to open."

... Well, the friend of the owner. Or... Something. Jono tried not to think about it too hard, just so long as it meant there was employment and a roof over his head for a while.

Roofs (... rooves?) were important things! Especially over one's head, and hopefully not crashing down upon it (potentially a concern when one is doing any variety of construction).

"Planning on sticking around after that?" Ronan asked. "I'm sure there's lots that you could turn your hand to, after your done your work there."

"Provided Troy has some use for the musician who insisted there be more facilities for his sort incorporated into th'building's structure," Jono replied, shrugging. "My acting experience for this sort of thing isn't so great, but the performing arts hardly begin and end at Shakespeare."

Jono had opinions on theatres that didn't appreciate music for the fine artistic medium that it was, yes.

Ronan shook his head. "It'd be nice to have a music venue, too," he agreed. "I'm sure there's lots of students who'd like a place to perform that wasn't karaoke with the zombies."

Even if karaoke with the zombies (and a drunken Chocobo) was hilariously fun,

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