1 ⚙️

[callbacks]

[Remember that one Spectre randomly accosting people for interviews on fuck all? Looks like some teenage D-bag in shades actually saw fit to entertain her questions. Oh dear. The brief interview doesn't get nearly as much unreal air as li'l Miss Invidia of poisonous fame, but it's playing here and there today. The brief clip might not merit any attention at all, except...]

...local establishment you think more Invidians should know about?

[The kid lights up suddenly without actually smiling, rising up a little on the balls of his feet with his hands still jammed in his pockets.]

Shit, dawgs, you have no idea. You got yourselves a national--or, like--at least a municipal treasure sitting like a bereft and sack-clothed widow at the corner of Ignored and Abandoned. You assholes don't know what you're missing. It's a downright indignation, the lack of patronage enjoyed by this magnificently unironic piece of shit business modeling. Hold on to your asses because I'mma need you to get 'em parked pronto-mundo in the chairs at Mr. Dudeguy's BBQ and Foot Massage-While-You-Wait.

[He takes a breath, and it's at this point the interviewer really should have moved on, but it's too late. It's always already too late.]

Got a long-standing nation in my imagination
All staycationing in line at the bee-bee-queue,
Awaitin' pork and grilled onions while Granny get her bunions
Caressed lovingly in the hands of a master in toe-fu,
By which I mean podia-shiatsu-jutsu-fu,
Though you could probably order tofu, too, I mean, I ain't the boss of you
If that's the shit you want to order smoked and spice-rubbed for you.
Uh, anyway,
All I'm sayin' is it's the sweetest jerk-and-rub of a release
Your mortal soul can experience post-cease.

[...Did he just--]

You know, if that's how you feel about it. Anyway, yeah. Check it. Cat does a sweet kebab.

[In any case, business is now booming at BBQ and Foot Massage-While-U-Wait. Lines are out the door and around the block. A full street away, a hunched, furtive-looking blond is bargaining in desperate, hissed tones with a seller of hoodies.]

Please, no, I'm begging--no. I can't give you the sunglasses, I'm on a strictly no shades-trades platform. Can't you just--holy shit.

[Sensing someone looking at him, he stiffens and turns away further. He will ollie off this entire layer if he has to, Jesus.]

Comments

[crypddyd]

[Lion still can't watch the screens for long without his head hurting, but seeing someone OTHER than Esme is enough for him to stop to watch.

Then all that happens and he just squints at it]

...I have no idea what he just said... but he must be another Eidolon...

[He also has no idea that said person is nearby being accosted for his shades since he's kinda in Lion's blind spot. Oops]

[mementomoritz]

Here.

[Someone reaches past him, proffering... a pair of glasses?]

[Medic smiles winningly at the hoodie salesman. Salesspecter?]

You said you wanted glasses, right? [They're... basically nothing like Dave's glasses, a pair of clear lenses with thick rims of red plastic, and judging by the way she's squinting a little they're obviously prescription lenses. But hey, a trade's a trade. Maybe he'll take it?]

[schardynfreude]

[Oh, someone else has noticed alright. It's fine. Chiron will just caaaaasually lean against a wall here and not look directly at the. boy? Seems young in spite of himself.

Hard to tell sometimes, really.]

You have quite the mouth on you. Did they censor you in realtime, I wonder, or is there an editing room?