fandomtownies | Demon Marcus, Thursday

Entry tags:

Demon Marcus, Thursday

Look, it wasn't that there was too much color out there right now. Ada loved color. Color was almost as important to her life as sparkles. It was that it clashed. Horribly. And that was a goddamned sin.

She was in the store early since class had been cancelled, and had dutifully changing out the window display. To shades of black, white, and gray. Some blessed, blessed eye-relief for those who couldn't take all the unicorn-rainbow-dewdrop-neon of their current location.

Demon Marcus was open, and Ada was trying on all the sunglasses to see which ones made her look like a fashion model, instead of just someone with a color-hangover.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Just because Dante didn't like that Ada had stumbled over him in the first place, didn't mean he didn't owe her one.

So he showed up around lunchtime. With lunch: the sugary kind, picked up from JGoB's. "Hey," he said, setting the bag on the counter.

The upbeat of the past few weeks had kinda drained from him, but whatever. He'd ignore it, as per usual.

Ada blinked at him owlishly over the rims of her latest pair of sunglasses for a moment before breaking out in a wide grin. "You're up!" she said, delighted. "Anders feelin' better too?"

Look, you'd both looked pretty ~~wrecked~~ wiped when all was said and done. Ada was kinda surprised you were out of bed, Dante.

Dante had a killer healing factor that'd gotten a kickstart, and a restless inbuilt desire not to waste any time. "Yeah," he said, nudging the bag closer towards her. "Right as rain. ...Which I'm wondering if he can make."

"Why? Weather too hot for you?" she teased, giving in to his hinting and reaching for the bag to see what was in it. "I'd think you'd just use it as an excuse t' wander around without a shirt an' make us swoon."

The bag held a choice of sweet pastries with fruit and cream; Dante'd figured she'd like it.

"Even better if it's wet t-shirt, right?"

Ada thought about that for a moment. "I wouldn't turn down th' chance to judge a wet t-shirt contest around here, that's for sure," she decided.

Her entire face lit up when she realized what was in the bag. "Y'brought me lunch!" Sugary, sugary lunch. "Stop hoverin' there an' sit down t' help me eat it all."

"Nah, it's yours," Dante said, holding his hands up. "You can save some for later if you want."

"B'cause turnin' me loose on th' island with this much sugar in my system is part of your evil plan?" she checked, leaning in to try and plant a quick, chaste kiss on his cheek in thanks. "Sit. I ain't had company all day."

"Fine, fine." Dante was too-- restless to sit, really, but he was going to try it anyway, parking his ass somewhere chair-like and slouching. "But after that, the evil parts."

It had been awhile since he'd been too restless under his skin to sit and keep her company, but Ada bit her tongue.

"Tell me about this evil plan of yours while I stuff m' face," she suggested instead, unpacking the bag and tucking into something filled with peaches and cream and covered in sugar. For a slip of a girl, she could certainly eat a lot. "--what am I supposed t' do in this evil plan? Tag th' Trooper Station? Dance on th' roof of Groovy Tunes? Play tag with a flamingo?"

Dante tapped his fingers against the side of the chair in an idle rhythm.

"Grab weirdly-colored shit from across the causeway and dump it everywhere?" he said. "Maybe finally glitterbomb the offices..."

"Can we? Please? 'Specially th' glitterbombs," she asked. "They take themselves so seriously."

"We can hit Jarrus and that asshole from class in one big swoop," Dante said. Lightly.

He tapped a foot against the floor.

She sees that tapping foot, Dante.

"'M eating as fast as I can!" she promised, around a mouthful of pastry. "What's got your pants in a rush t'day?"

"'m not in a rush," Dante said, eyeing his foot. He pulled it closer in to him. "You don't have to rush the eating either."

He was just restless.

"Just havin' a restless day?" she asked sympathetically. Stir crazy, Ada understood. While the island's jaunting had helped alleiviate it a bit, staying in the same place so long often had her itching under her skin, driving her to get out and run and run until she was so tired she could deal with being stuck inside four walls that didn't move.

Stir-crazy because if he didn't do something, Dante'd stop being distracted from his thoughts, and that didn't go anywhere good. "Guess so," he said. "Not personal, I promise. You're still rocking my world."

"Aw, lunch and flattery, you get t' be my favorite for th' rest of today," she decided, giving him a wink.

"But you ever want company t' head in t' Baltimore or whatever, just say," Ada offered, finishing off her peaches & creame to dig in the bag for seconds. "--I get twitchy as hell, too."

"I was thinking about heading out there tonight," Dante admitted. "Maybe hit up a club, do some dancing..."

Other stuff.

"Gettin' in trouble together is always more fun than gettin' in trouble alone!" she pointed out, before taking a bite of her new confection. Mmmm...strawberries.

"And you do know how to make trouble good," Dante said, grinning up at her. "Get us a few wallets, we can really kick it up."

"'Trouble' is m' middle name," Ada said with a totally straight face. "Uncle Chester always yelled 'Ada Trouble Miller you stop screwin' around an' get your ass over here.'"

It was a lie -- she didn't have a middle name -- but a fun one. She didn't think Dante would mind.

Dante laughed, even as he slid out of his seat.

Yeah, sitting still was not something that was happening here.

"You ever listen to him, Trouble?"

Hey, he'd tried, which was good enough for Ada.

"Used to," she admitted, offering him a bite of her strawberry confection. "Or at least I tried to, or did exactly what he said if not what he meant." Because Ada had always been good at stepping around things she didn't like. Just like her mama. "I was th' 'good girl.'"

"Lately? Wasn't always very good at th' listening, 'specially when I was angry."

And Ada had had a lot to be angry about.

Hey, it was her confection. But if she was offering... Dante snagged his bite, nice and quick.

"Havin' a hard time picturing you as a good girl," he admitted. With his mouth full.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject