fandomtownies | Outside the Perk, Thursday afternoon

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Outside the Perk, Thursday afternoon

Duke had stopped in for what he'd hoped would be a perfectly ordinary (if probably pumpkin-spiced) coffee this afternoon. The coffee itself was fine, not even egregiously flavored. The vague glimpse of something moving in the storm drain out of the corner of his eye when he went to find a seat outside was . . . less fine. He sipped his coffee, pretending to be engrossed by something on his phone, and tried to study the thing without letting it know he knew it was there.

It was pale white. And bright red. And . . . wearing a ruffled collar?

Unable to entirely believe what he was pretty sure he was seeing, he gave in and gave the drain a direct look -- and found it to be a perfectly ordinary, dark, somewhat slimy looking storm drain.

He shrugged and went back to his coffee and his phone -- only to catch sight of the thing again. But when he looked back, it was gone.

"Sure," he said to the sky, resigned. "Because why wouldn't Fandom have creepy clowns living in the sewers?"

[Because what else are you going to do with creepy clowns when your character is from a Stephen King canon? Open!]

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Octavia had been watched by at least three different clowns over the course of her shift today. She could tell because they'd all been wearing different colors, even the one that had stood in the back room that she'd only caught a sliver of.

She'd think twice about leaving that door cracked, from now on.

All of this made for a pretty annoyed-looking Octavia as she stalked down the street towards the Perk. She'd earned a PSL for getting through her shift even with the increasing desire to crawl out of her skin.

"Tell me the coffee's normal today." As good a greeting as any.

"Coffee's fine," Duke said, still eyeing the storm drain suspiciously. "So far. This whole island makes me feel like I should be carrying around a piece of wood to knock on."

Octavia skipped asking about the vaguely-familiar expression in favor of following his suspicious gaze and then sighing silently.

"Down there too?"

"Too?" Duke shot looks up and down the street, managing to catch a glimpse of a blue-haired figure in oversized, polka dot pants peering out from behind a street lamp before it vanished. "How does anyone get anything done in this town?"

"By waiting out the weird," Octavia offered, studiously ignoring anything she might've been seeing in her peripheral vision. "Mostly."

Duke rolled his eyes a little and shook his head. "Alright. I guess I can deal with lurking clowns until they disappear at midnight or whatever."

Having the girl who threw swords around would probably help.

"How's the flower shop business treating you today?"

There was definitely a knife or two hidden somewhere on Octavia. She'd been too twitchy even at the start of the day not to.

"Busy." At least for some values of the word. "Apparently clowns don't stop people from wanting their fall arrangements."

Secreting weapons on your person was just good policy. Duke regularly had at least one knife on him. And usually a gun.

"That's a thing? Fall arrangements?"

Octavia's deadpan was one of a person who'd worked at a flower shop - on this island - for two years and who had Seen Some Shit.

"And Halloween ones, and soon Thanksgiving ones," she said, heavy on the drawl. "Do you need me to go on?"

"People are really into their flowers, huh," Duke mused. He'd never spent much time thinking about flowers.

They would maybe brighten up the Cape Rouge a little. At least until the porgs ate them.

"What do you even put in a Halloween arrangement? Foxglove and oleander?"

"Mostly whatever we have that's orange or black." Or just really dark. "Roses are popular."

By which she meant 'overrated'. Two years was long enough to form opinions.

"If people order something specific, they don't usually get too interesting."

"Roses." Duke shook his head. "Man, people should go for, like. . . ." He trailed off. "I got nothing. I don't know anything about flowers. What kinds do you like?"

White lilies.

Except not these days.

Octavia shrugged one shoulder. "Lavender and hibiscus," she said after a brief pause for thought. And maybe to mentally shake off the lilies. "And passion flowers, but those don't come through often."

"So . . . edible ones," Duke said. "Passion flowers, those from the same plant as passion fruit?"

"Yes." That worked as an answer to both parts of what he'd said. There was also a little twitch of a change in her expression. Amused, probably? "Also it's not that they're edible, it's that they're medicinal."

"I've heard lavender can be good for cleaning," Duke said. "And it's supposed to be calming. Haven't heard about hibiscus being anything but good dried or in a tea, though."

"It's supposed to be good for your immune system," Octavia replied with the tiniest shrug. "Lavender calms, same with passion flower, though that's also supposed to be a --"

No, she hadn't meant to end that sentence halfway through. Nor look vaguely alarmed for a second. It was just that she'd finally caught the storm drain creeper out of the corner of her eye.

"Goddammit."

Duke almost -- almost -- turned to look.

"Sewer drain?" he asked.

"White and red," Octavia replied grimly. So, that was a yes. "Maybe it's telling me I should go in for my coffee instead of standing here."

"Yeah, pretty sure all it's saying is 'I'm a creepy jackass'." Duke waved to the door. "But by all means, don't let me keep you from your caffeine."

"It's doing it in my line of vision, that's enough of a sign for me," Octavia said dryly, before sending a mild glare the drain's way.

Predictably, there was nothing there when she did. She looked back up. "Also, in case you didn't know, they do let you back in after you've left with your purchase."

And that was all she was going to say before turning and heading for the door.

"I am aware," Duke assured her. "It's a nice day out if you ignore the clowns."

He also got up to follow her in, though. Because clowns.

Octavia only turned to check whether he'd followed her once she'd rattled off her order at the counter.

As always, the faint sort-of smirk was a little crooked. "Pretty sure there are clowns here, too." In fact, the barista's shudder pretty much confirmed that. "But at least it's a smaller space."

Duke sipped his coffee. "And . . . how is it being a smaller space full of clowns better?"

"Fewer spots for them to show up in." She'd had time to think about it when she'd crossed the park on her way back from Covent Garden. That had been way too much open space. "Less startling if they keep repeating."

Indra would be so proud of this strategic thinking, really.

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