Written by: ragnamalamity
← Howl's Eve!
As the festivities take an uptick in activity, one of the jack-o'-lanterns strewn about the plaza (if it can be referred to as such) shuffles into the side of the joint, slanted roof of one of their homes overhead. Great as this idea was, it's easy to get overwhelmed at a night like this; their choice to evacuate was meant to provide a brief reprieve before continuing on with the night.
Of course, that doesn't mean they'd get what they want. As they slump against the wall, taking a seat on the ground, they're quickly followed by a fiend with a sheet over their head. The space traveler turned pumpkin barely gets a sigh out before the other launches into their babble —
...
Why does he always get the weirdos around here?
As Viridian speaks, he flips his gravity involuntarily. Fawful's grin only widens as he watches his unwilling conversation partner ping-pong against the roof and the ground.
Fawful squints. Why must this despicable blue and orange nobody speak in riddles?
Oh. Oh! Why didn't he just say so?
Beyond the, ah, inability to speak in words that make sense? If Fawful wanted a puzzle game he'd confront his opponent. Or, uh. Opponents? He's confided in his 'friends' back home that nobody here really made sense to him. But this guy? Ugh. Maybe he made a mistake.
Not that his devilish charm would stop him from soldiering forward, of course! A cackle from the Beanish mechanic, leaning forward a touch.
Viridian takes too long trying to find a way to respond, so Fawful takes his hesitation as a confident yes. He shuffles off to help Viridian mellow out, clapping his hands to bring his rocket platform-y thing to his side, loaded up with food and drink. Most of this reeks of Remy's cooking (something he can barely stomach himself; much too incompetent!), but he grabs a couple slices of pizza that look more palatable. It's about the fullest extent of his hospitality, so he calls it good there.
The captain watches as Fawful goes about his work, and huffs. Damn it all. When he needed a break this was absolutely not what he had in mind, but it looks like it's too late for that… which leaves him between a roof and a hard place, all the moreso once his unfortunate company comes back. ... Maybe he shouldn't complain just yet, though. There's food here.
He points to the snack table in the distance, now being visited by Zim and Billy. Both of them look horrified at the selection, for different reasons.
The two eat in near-silence for a while, taking in the ambience of the night. Fawful tries to spark conversation that doesn't really go anywhere; both from Viridian’s inability to converse properly and just a passive disinterest. The food's good, though, so he doesn't really bother to complain.
When the food's all but gone, Fawful turns to the other, expecting something. Not even a “thank you,” though that would be nice; just a nod, an offhand comment, anything. But Viridian stays silent, and Fawful finds himself in an unjustified fury.
Viridian slams a hand over Fawful's mouth.
Fawful tries to object, but Viridian pushes a little further, muddling up the sheet.
Considering how close he is, Fawful briefly considers the necessity of engaging in combat, but—
He's quickly able to cast it aside.
Viridian releases his grasp on Fawful, who quickly sprints off anyway. Be it an inability to process the information, or too wrapped up in his emotions to settle it, Fawful evacuates. Viridian, however, is about as ready to party as he ever could be.
So with a nod to himself, he pushes himself back onto his feet, and approaches the crowd once more.