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WHO: john becket (steinbeck) and you! you lucky person, you.
WHERE: farmer's market, a halloween store, and generally just around
WHEN: various times in october
WHAT: some indulgent, lighthearted halloween stuff and then a significantly less lighthearted fog prompt. also probably a catch-all
WARNINGS: language? gen violence for one prompt

a. farmer's market →

[ welcome to that quaint little gathering of vendors and their goods. ... actually, that's not quite right: recolle's farmer's market has always been a bustling affair, and today, despite the horrors of the last week or so, is no exception. passing through the tables laden with crafts and fresh food and the like, eventually you may come across a larger spread of all sorts of treats. the food ranges from candied and caramel apples to marshmallow ghost krispies to slices of pumpkin pie. some of them might seem a little overpriced compared to your average freshens prices, but that's what you get when they're apparently homemade and all of that other fun, organic and locally-sourced stuff. a few of the items are labeled as "profits to charity," at least.

john's seated in some fold-out chair (as a volunteer, he should probably be standing for this, but) near to this elaborate display, addressing anyone who gets close enough with a cheery wave and a beaming smile: ]

Hey! Wanna buy some? There are free samples, too.

[ free. samples!! ]

b. some halloween store →

[ why did he come here? absolutely morbid curiosity, he tells himself.

anyway, john's stumbled into one of those seasonal halloween venues. it's jam-packed with all sorts of spooky-themed bs— it's capitalism at its best (?). john's already wearing a thing over his head because apparently the allure of dawning something stupid while in here was too much for him. the banana approaches one of the fake weapons' bins, drawing one of those weird swords containing atrociously fake blood on its inside. held upright, the blood oozes toward the sword's hilt. ]

Wow. This place is just full of dumb, overpriced crap, huh?

[ yes, he does have the gall to sneer at that pricetag. ]

c. fog, wherever outside →

[ it's dusk, the last vestiges of light fading. hopefully, by now, most people have learned that travelling at night is particularly bad news this month.

if not— well. you might stumble across john in one of his fouler moods; things are a bit different for him this eve. from a cut at his neck, grapevines bloom outward; they spiral about his arms and curl around his torso. and, but of course, he's not alone: if you squint, one can make out an outline of... humans, but they stagger and move in a way that just looks a bit off, slowing and sprinting suddenly at seemingly unpredictable intervals. and should one of these stragglers come near enough, it's affirmed that something's gone horribly wrong. they'll bellow with anger and scream promises of death at whoever might be unlucky enough to cross their path, fists flying and outstretched hands reaching for throats. ]

[ john's restrained a more recent assailant with his vines; it writhes on the floor, still crying general curses of You bastard! I'll kill you for this! ... that is, until a vines curls around the person's mouth, silencing them.

john's voice comes, lifeless, to whoever not apparently afflicted with murderous rage: ]

They're not real, I know. A real nuisance, more like...

d. wildcard →

( drop whatever, or hmu and i can start something. )

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[My god, that's the most hideous mask Shuji's ever seen. No wonder John's behind it.]

It's seasonal stuff, so they can afford to price things higher closer to Halloween for the people who realize last minute that they don't have a costume. And gag costumes are... popular, for some reason.

[He taps lightly on the banana's pronounced chin.]

You're not thinking of actually buying this, right?

. . . They're fuckin' loud, huh.

[It's less flippant than it sounds. Mista's in a somber mood in the fog whenever he's not paranoid to the point of near-madness; the dark figure following him is slow tonight, driven away by all of this shit, maybe.]

[He ambles forward, hands in his pockets, to look at the one John's got under control. Then he looks at John, taking in the vines and all, and nods.]

I was gonna say something, but I got nothing, really. Like what do you say about this? At least yours is interesting.

[It's really not in Baren's tendency to judge.

It's angry mob meeting angry mob. Behind Baren there are villagers - those dressed in tattered but simple Sengoku-era clothes - and it's with an almost practiced motion that he ducks away from the rocks and dead animals that they hurl at him. They don't approach, as if nervous of retaliation, but they don't hesitate with their insults. Monster! Cursed child! Die and suffer in purgatory, already!

Though as Baren looks between the downed assailant and John - his expression looking only slightly apprehensive as he notes the cut in his neck and the curling vines - he just snorts faintly.]

Hey, I'll trade you.

[But aside from that he doesn't ask questions.]

Shit, these again?!

[he's seen people like this in his memories, seen smoke over buildings and heard himself issuing orders to kill any of them who got too close. he doesn't remember how it ended, though, only that it happened--

but at least it makes them a known enemy, real or not. one of them comes for chuuya, and when the figure reaches out to try to wrap its hands around his throat, chuuya does the same thing to it first, tightening his grip before flinging them aside and turning back to john and his vines.

now that's new, at least here.]

So it finally caught up to you, huh.

[A pro-tip about the bars in college cities: most give surprisingly little fucks about the clientele they bring in. The gamble of letting underaged students slip past the bouncers never goes away, and frankly, if you're old enough to be sneaky, you're old enough to deal with the consequences.

That, and the fog is bringing in a surplus of visitors. Good for business, bad for regulations. Neither the Retrospec users nor the everyday citizens want to get lost in that mess, and it's why Sakura sneaks in without showing her I.D. at the door, dead set on nursing her bad mood out of sight in a corner.

Alcohol isn't on her mind. She knows she's here illegally and feels bad enough for it. But uh, this is also America, she's quick to find, where no pretty girl is allowed to sit here without a drink in her hand. The bar's also got a Halloween special going on where the first two rounds are free, so give it thirty minutes before she's tossed back two long islands and three jello shots.

Mmmmm she takes it all back. God Bless America.]

[ oh ]

Heck no.

[ the banana raises its chin defiantly as it's poked at. but then john's lowering the plastic sword to his side and he's moving back toward the shelf with all the ugly masks. sorry, shuji, you're going to be tugged along whether you like it or not. ]

Here. They're all pretty bad, right?

[ yet, said in a manner like he's a showroom salesman. like, look at all this awful shit. don't you just want to try one on-- ]

[ a nod at the statement; as noisy as these curse-afflicted "people" can be, it at least makes potential sneak attacks nigh impossible. and since it's mista—a coworker, even if they work entirely separate from one another, but not to mention someone he's heard nothing but good things about—john can manage a smile. it's not all quite sincere, particularly in light of this situation, but it's polite all the same. ]

Oh? [ his head tilts a bit to the side, the vines redoubling about his arm as he prepares to encounter another figure, its silhouette visible as it takes its time ambling its way through the clouded air. ] This fog subjected you to some real boring stuff, then?

[Shuji'll be dragged along by banana vine man, sure, but...

He would die before he let any of these masks touch his skin.]

They're horrifying. I wouldn't even try one on for a joke.

[ because what better way to deal with fog b.s. by... not dealing with it at all, and instead hitting up the bar. one day, john will learn to save his money when it comes to this. tonight's not that night. (but, bless: halloween specials were going to prove themselves helpful.)

entering, he does a quick scan of the bar. there's a few people he might recognize, sure, but then there's someone he absolutely did not expect to see. in the process of shrugging off his coat so that he might sling it over a chair near to her, he approaches none-the-wiser. ]

Well! [ welly well well. ] Look who's here! Didn't take you for much of a bar person.

[ like, at all. so much so that he's joking with even that insinuation. ]

[ it's hard to miss the hard glare that john shoots his way, the expression perhaps only tempered by the quick, cursory glance he does to check for glaring injuries. but it passes as he focuses on the unignorable crowd trailing behind baren. there's a misthrown rock, and one of john's vines react by snagging it clean from the air. it curls, poised to launch it back twice as hard.

it's different, certainly. baren's circumstances seem more... personal, somehow.

he'll have to pass on the offer. ]

Why haven't you done anythin' with 'em yet?

'M not, I've never been in one.

[That's some painful honesty she shouldn't be admitting out loud, and done before she even looks up from her woefully empty glass (which she'd been glaring at, look at this goddamn betrayal). If she seems surprised by John's appearance, she--

... She stares at him like he's got calculus written on his forehead, please hold.]

Ah, John-san.

[... She drags her (still empty) glass closer to herself, blurting out.] I already finished it.

[MMMMm that's the only hint he gets, maybe walk away from this disaster in the making]

[ well goddamn ]

[ those pieces fell into place relatively quickly. john pulls himself into the seat, actually pretty sincerely glancing about the area this time: ]

How'd you get in here? [ spoken with pointed loudness. no worries, though: it's a pretty bustling place with this special; no one pays his volume any more mind than anything else going on. ] Who's supervisin' you?

[ where are? the adults? ]

-- Would you please--

[Hissing under her breath, except while her words aren't slurred, volume control left the building some time ago. Probably after that second jello shot. She glances 'round like a sinner in church before ducking her head slightly]

I'm an adult too, I don't need supervision.

[Staring into her empty drink]

And besides, I'm not... staying that long...

[ that exclamation both illuminates and mystifies a few things. john hadn't know what the ever loving fuck to make of any of this; he hadn't even been certain it had to do specifically with him, and wasn't just some random retrospec bullshit thrown arbitrarily his way. but then apparently chuuya's seen something similar, which...

isn't ideal.

john purposefully ignores the last comment. he has to bite his tongue a moment, resisting in snapping some sarcastic, loaded quip. barely. he watches as the other man disposes of one of the cursed figures with relative ease. chuuya can handle himself. one of his branches snap out to trip up another would-be assailant, leaving the individual scrambling and buying john a few more moments to express indignation. ]

Again? What, the fog's been showin' you this, too?

[ john gives her a look, as if to say 'please reflect on yourself in lieu of that statement.' but after another second passes, john's left to shrug. he supposes the hows of the situation really don't matter too much. what's done is done. ]

Good! Don't gotta babysit you, then—

[ because he's going to order a drink; probably one of the stronger, more expensive ones, because not paying in this situation is the best thing that's happened to him all week. month. ]

Where you plannin' on... eventually scuttlin' off to, then? Morbid curiosity.

[ because like he doesn't want to "babysit"... but. ]

At least they got that right! Shouldn't be sellin' too attractive of masks this time of year.

[ while john's vaguely disappointed in the reassurance that shinji won't try one on, he didn't have stupidity to hope to the contrary. —okay, he did, but it wasn't because of stupidity, okay. ]

[ john plucks a unicorn mask from the shelf, showing it. it sparkles. ]

Not even this one? It suits you the best outta these.

Why that one in particular?

[He's still not wearing it, but he can at least ask why John thought it suited him best.

He doesn't sparkle much, okay.]

... "babysit"?

[Well there's a winter chill in the air. Sakura smiles, threading her fingers together and resting her chin on the bridge they create]

Well, since you've cleared yourself of responsibility, I'm sure you'll sleep better at night not knowing the gruesome details.

[And then she hails down the bartender, neh neh Bartender-san! Another long island if you please. Yes, her fourth, and oh trust her she's got the money for this.]

[ ah... he couldn't get away with that one, huh. ]

Hadn't meant too much by that. [ ... ] But it's the least ugly, and unicorns are kinda rare, so!

[ right. ]

[ with his blood sword, john then points to the mask of a round, grotesque baby. he wants to emphasize his embarrassing point. ]

Thank you for not even hypothetically putting me in that one.

[He would literally die from that, probably. You can die from embarrassment, right?]

[ john 's experiencing a few conflicting feelings here. on one hand, that's kind of annoying. on the other, the bartender's annoying for doing his job. on a third hand, it's her life and she does want she wants.

ugh!! at least he's served his drink, too. ... it's a double bourbon because he's predictable. ]

Nah— we got those nightmares to deal with, anyway. Here I was just curious and tryin' to make conversation, y'know.

[ see, he's innocent, because "babysit" isn't an irksome term to use at all! ]

No prob. [ didn't even imagine anything, either!!

here john gives the unicorn mask an ENTICING WIGGLE. c'mon. ]

You dressin' up as anythin' at all for it?

[Well John's face is annoying, so as far as Sakura's concerned, they're back on even ground. It helps there's a drink in her hand, though. She sips through a straw -- shut up shut up this is a perfectly acceptable method for drinking alcohol -- casually clearing a fourth of the glass in one go.]

Are yours bad?

[Whoops, that just slips out, and even Sakura isn't so far along the inebriated train that she can't regret being invasive. So she's just. Gonna. Wince and then stumble along talking like she didn't say shit.]

When I remember where I'm going, you'll be the first I inform.

[See she's being cooperative]

... Yeah, I'll hold you to that.

[ john is almost impressed with this drinking? he feels compelled to keep up, like savoring this bourbon seems extra slow in contrast to that. it's only three ounces, so taking what looks like an impressive drought isn't too difficult. ]

[ funnily enough, he doesn't appear to think it as invasive: without missing a beat, he meets the question with a shrug. ]

They're 'bout as bad as anyone else's. Nothin' traumatic or whatever. [ the tone says that word is apparently mockworthy. ] Just could do without losin' the sleep; I don't like havin' to go through so much coffee.

[Huh... well, if it's no skin off his knuckles, Sakura won't steer the conversation somewhere else. She flaps an absentminded hand at his claim.]

Drink green tea. It's a bit less caffeine but at least you'll be drinking something with character.

[Yikes okay.]

Not that it will solve the nightmare problem, but I assume it'll disappear once Halloween is over. We just have to hold out until then or get... [squinting at her drink] really creative...

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