apocalypsehowcomm | [OPEN LOG] Turkey Testicle Festival Open Mingle!

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[OPEN LOG] Turkey Testicle Festival Open Mingle!

Who: Everyone!
When: Post-Thanksgiving Weekend
Where: Bottoms Up Bar and Tavern
Summary: The annual Turkey Testicle Festival returns to a local Gloucester bar with special events including a turkey testicle eating competition, live music, karaoke … and some unexpected spooks and slaughter themed hallucinations
Warnings: Please put appropriate content warnings in your top levels! General warnings include:
For the festival: Alcohol
For the opt-in aftermath: Slaughterhouses, blood, implied animal cruelty, industrialized slaughter, tactile/auditory/visual hallucinations

Welcome to the Annual Turkey Testicle Festival!

It’s that beloved time of the year, folks! All across the United States, several towns host a much lauded festival called the Turkey Testicle Festival and lucky you, Gloucester just so happens to be one of those special towns that pay tribute to the full glory of the humble turkey. Fliers for the event hosted by the Bottoms Up Bar and Tavern can be seen all around town advertising the momentous occasion. See you there!

Dining & Drinking

Bottoms Up serves up classic American bar foods and offers a wide selection of local beers as well as hard liquors for anyone who wants to get their drink on. Just be sure to provide some kind of ID. Or get someone else to get you a drink -- it’s a party, the bartenders won’t ask so long as you don’t get them in direct trouble. But let’s be real, why are you here eating nachos and chicken wings when you could be eating….

The Balls

Ah yes, the crown jewels of the event, who could forget? Breaded and deep fried to golden brown, crispy perfection these balls are just bursting with flavor! Served with your choice of hot sauce for some spice or creamy white sauce, these delectables are said to taste just like chicken nuggets.

Dare to find out.

Or better yet, join the turkey testicle eating contest! Win glorious prizes such as a twenty dollar gift card to Walmart or a CD signed by Sense of Evan. ~~Please, they have so many CDs nobody seems to want…~~

Live Music

Looks like a local band is playing for part of the festival. For better or for worse, “Sense of Evan” are a cover and playing all the best meme hits from the likes of Evanescence, Avril Lavigne, Nickelback amongst others. Come jam out to the music, make merry with other festival attendees. Or maybe you’ll just be hanging out by the wall wondering how could this happen to me…..

Karaoke

But just because the live band’s done playing, doesn’t mean the music stops. Nope. Bottoms Up staff have dredged up a karaoke machine! Now it’s your turn to show off your singing chops and wow the crowd! Or conversely break a few eardrums. It’s all in good fun, right?

The Aftermath

…Or maybe it wasn’t all just in good fun after all?

For those who attended the festival , they may wake up the next day with some unwanted side effects. It might start out subtle — the odd sound of a conveyor belt moving along, the occasional electric shock by your neck. Weird bodily and auditory sensations that seem to flit in and out from an entirely different place. But as the day progresses, these strange occurrences seem to become stronger, clearer until the hallucinations really kick in.

Visions of yourself trapped in a steel pen, along with so many others all waiting to be pushed onto a conveyor belt. Perhaps you’re sharing the hallucination with others you recognize, perhaps you’re meant to work together to escape the seemingly endless line of slaughter and industrialized death. One way or another, these hallucinations will last a full day before they gradually taper off in intensity.

Notes:

• The after effects are purely opt-in. You do not have to play with any Slaughter themed elements if your character attends the festival.
• For the slaughterhouse hallucinations, feel free to go ham with the set up. Be as horrible to your characters as you like, please just warn with the appropriate content warnings.
• As per the mod’s notes, characters who choose to investigate Bottom’s Up following this incident, they'll find that the grocery store had a mix-up in their meat order and got something that came off of one of Sable's shipments. The grocery store's usual seller came up short and just bought up what they could find on short notice to cover the holiday rush.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ maybe not. keith is an adult. they’re both adults. some friends do that sort of thing for a whole slew of reasons: boredom, need, loneliness. if he and keith decided to give a casual hook-up a try, what would their justification be?

murky thoughts becoming murkier by the second, shiro stares at that ranch coated ball. ]

Guess not.

[ the words come a pinch slow, like he isn’t fully convinced even as he’s agreeing aloud. he eyes the white ball for another beat and then reaches over, snapping a ball himself, straight out of the cup via his fingers. a frown follows. ]

Do you only wanna go with me because your crush doesn’t like you?

[ desperation is also a reason. ]

[ where keith had been focusing his efforts entirely on not dropping the ball, the mention of his crush gets his attention to fracture instantly. ]

My crush?

[ ??????? hell, even those questions may as well be audible. confused and now definitely lost, there's a totally blank look on keith's face as he stares at shiro. why would he want a crush to take him to the bathroom at a bar of all places? he ponders on his own for a second, but it threatens to make his head hurt. ]

I want to go with you because it's you.

[ try as he may, he's unable to get the duh out of his tone, even though he's really not quite sure why he's even arguing over the bathroom at this point. ... or arguing in general, reallu, but the words continue to pour out. ]

Nonexistent crush has nothing to do with it.

[ scowl-pouting slightly, keith's eyes go back on the coated ball balanced on his fork. there is... definitely too much ranch on this thing, but maybe that'll only enhance the taste? tentatively keith gives the ball a lick. ]

[ hold the fucking phone. the crush is nonexistent? sure, shiro knew keith thought his crush was unrequited and yes, it’s been over a month since keith clued him in on that, but turmoil or time don’t always mean the heart gives up. keith is over it though; over this mystery someone that shiro still agonizes over. who is it? what do they look like? tall, short, slender, beefy, light haired, dark haired…

huh. all these years and he doesn’t have the slightest clue of what keith’s type is. how is that possible?

his drunk brain is especially focused on this right now and perturbed, really, because as his best friend, shouldn’t shiro know what kind of dude keith is into? considering that keith is okay with visiting a bathroom stall with him, shiro can probably assume that he falls somewhere in the range of what aesthetically pleases keith, right?

… why is this important?

he pinches the turkey ball between his index and thumb as he considers this… only to derail immediately upon seeing keith taking on his own turkey ball. just – keith. that isn’t how one is supposed to approach this. ]

Oh. [ he can’t tear his gaze away. it’s there. it’s stuck there; staring at the licked, bare strip along the testicle, the heavy coat of white making him think things he should not be thinking. perhaps that’s why his mouth runs away from him with this dumb crush discussion…? should it even be considered a discussion? ]

So you’re available. [ physically. emotionally. available for what though? And for who? ] That’s good to know.

[ the sample lick yields unsurprising results. it tastes like ranch. incredible insights into what lies beneath a coating of fried batter. keith doesn't have a refined palate so he doubts anything about the experience of a turkey testicle will be especially offensive, but it's hard not to keep circling back to it's a ball and then thinking about his own.

mercifully, shiro keeps interrupting this cycle by apparently refusing to drop the crush debacle which has now become inextricably linked to the bar bathroom in keith's very clear headed mind. stalling a little for time, he looks away from the ball and raises an eyebrow. ]

Well yeah, I'm available. [ it's matter of fact, but still questioning. if anything the fact that keith isn't embarrassed about this is probably the clearest indication that he has no clue what shiro's actually getting at here. in fact: ] Did you want to go to the bathroom now?

[ ...for whatever mysterious reason that shiro can't go alone?? he starts looking away in the direction of the bar bathrooms when he happens to spot the flying kangaroo in his peripheral vision. ir clicks then. ]

....do you need to puke?

[ that’s a loaded question. they’ve been circling this will they or won’t they bathroom bit for a good while now and each time it’s reoffered to shiro, that once, very firm belief that they shouldn't comes back weaker. last time it came with a maybe they should and now it’s a few steps further into it might not be so bad. dangerous territory, that’s what that is, but does shiro have the capacity to process the kind of consequences that would follow such a decision?

he’s nodding. he’s actually nodding. it’s a barely there, slow bobble of his head, sure, but it’s still a nod. he gets two, three in as he watches keith look away. warmth fills his system, the beat in his chest picks up and he feels dizzy on the knowledge that he’s accepting, that they’re going to do this, that they’re going to stumble their way into a stall and –

nevermind.

there are two ways for drunk shiro to react to this: lean hard into the preposterous of it with some boisterous laughter or hyper focus on how offended he is that keith is even thinking about him hurling. judging by the scrunch of shiro’s face, he’s going with the second option. he makes a hmph sound in his throat before he pops the turkey ball into his mouth, chewing on it with a pout. grumbles in between chews. ]

I don’t need you to hold back my floof. [ he feels fine, thanks. ]

[ ah, so shiro does need to go to the bathroom? is this two cent sherlock holmes mystery finally over? .... evidently not. the last question has clearly displeased his best friend and keith is left floundering all over again. ]

....oh.

[ his expression falters as he drops eye contact to look back at the ball resting on his fork. should he be apologizing, even though he isn't sure what for? it wouldn't exactly be the first time he's said the wrong thing and gone and offended someone without meaning to. wanting to sigh, but refraining, keith keeps his eyes on the ball as he speaks. ]

Okay. I didn't mean to upset you. [ a beat. ] I don't think anything in my head's making sense right now. Sorry.

[ he’s not upset. or is he? he doesn’t know. it seems his head isn’t making any sense either. ]

Yeah. [ a beat, in which that pout lets up and he relaxes closer to neutrality. ] Mine too.

[ if neither of them are thinking straight, then that means going to the bathroom to not be friends is… bad? trying to follow the logic of his fragmented decision-making, shiro concludes that he had it right the first time: friends don’t go to the bathroom together. a shadow of that pout is back, though it’s one of confusion rather than an annoyed feeling. ]

Let’s not go to the bathroom until both our heads are working again. [ he tacks on a nod, encouraging the belief that that’s the right decision by supporting it himself. ]

We'll stay here and eat these balls, okay? [ he reaches over then, to snag another ball and pop it in his mouth as he eyes up keith’s still mostly untouched ball. come on, keith, catch up. ]

[ ok. so shiro isn't mad, used to want to go to the bathroom but doesn't want to anymore and is now prompting him to refocus on the turkey balls. summation of events neatly organized, keith still keeps his eyes on shiro for a moment longer, trying to make inferences out of facial expressions his brain honestly isn't in any kind of state to accurately interpret. ]

If you're sure.

[ pouting doesn't make it seem like shiro is sure, but keith's finally getting it into his head that maybe the bathroom is too touchy of a subject to be dealing with at this point for reasons that are still unclear to him. looking at the ball then, keith eyes it with a lingering bit of uncertainty. shiro had just popped the thing whole in his mouth,, so that's probably the best bet on how to go about eating a known testicle. frowning very slightly, keith stalls a moment longer. ]

Did you do anything special to commemorate your first ball?

[ why the fuck would anyone commemorate this? don't ask keith. he's just very unsure if he wants to know if the turkey nuggets of ye olde good days were a hoax from the start. ]

[ shiro isn’t sure of anything anymore. sitting here and stuffing turkey balls into his mouth is, at least, familiar territory, so given the choice, this is by far the safer option. munching on his testicle, he considers keith for a moment and then swallows, brow wrinkled in a way that suggests he’s trying very diligently to unearth the memory. first ball, first ball…

end of november. a few years into his residence in arizona, so he was… seventeen, eighteen, he thinks? hot day. a very deserty day.

he shrugs as he swallows. ] Wouldn’t say special. It was pretty ordinary. [ a beat. a brief laugh. ] As ordinary as a festival out in the boonies can be, I mean.

[ another beat and – really, he’s part tempted to snag keith’s turkey ball next if he leaves it forked like that much longer. ] The guys took me out. [ he doesn’t elaborate on who the guys are, partly due to him lacking the self-awareness that it’s an entirely vague detail that keith won’t be able to follow. ]

Thought it’d be funny to introduce the Florida boy to some balls. [ and now he’s grinning, boyish and sly. ] Little did they know I already knew plenty on the subject.

[ this whole story is just earning shiro a blink. ]

So you had balls before Arizona?

[ do floridians eat gator testicles... is that a thing?? keith isn't entirely sure he wants to know, but dr. shirogane over there just seems so confident about his apparently phd in balls. ]

[ okay. this is on shiro. he should’ve known the joke wouldn’t land. he has a choice here: pout and explain it was a joke or double-down.

he still has that sly look going so, welp, here he goes: ]

No, no, they were Arizona balls. Born and raised.

[ so apparently shiro’s usual humor isn’t the bottom of the barrel; it can actually get worse when he’s had a few. ]

[ keith's brow scrunches as he tries to parse that out. arizona balls, born and raised but not turkey balls? what other balls specific to arizona could shiro be an expert in? there's obviously a joke somewhere here judging from shiro's expression, but what is it? what could this fushigi mystery mean?

he goes quiet for several seconss, contemplating his turkey ball like that'll yield some kind of answer. ]

... Like meatballs?

[ not that those wouldn't have existed in florida, but arizona born and raised beef wouldn't exist in florida by definition right?

or.... squint. ]

Waaaaaaaaait. You mean people balls?

[ he can sense those mullet brain cells firing off, connecting the crumb trail of hints. he can see keith working though it as he stares at that obscenely white, coated turkey ball. meatball; not quite but warmer, definitely getting warmer. will he get it? will he finally realize the genius of shiro’s very clever, very humorous joke?

keith isn’t laughing but shiro is too delighted – and distracted – that keith finally understands the innuendo, that he doesn’t seem too bothered. in fact, he grins wide and leans back. there’s a cockiness to that recline, especially with how his face tips upward and his hands lace behind his head, elbows pointed wide. ]

Mmhm.

[ ah, his glory days. some time before his golden boy status but he was well on his way, charming the brass and charming boys in vastly different ways. ]

Used to be an expert. [ the grin lasts for three, two, one, and then his expression sours into a pout. ]

Not anymore. [ from shitty humor to basking in his prowess to lamenting his nonexistent sex life: this is why, come tomorrow, he is going to swear off alcohol. ]

[ there are a lot of sensible ways keith could process this particular emotional rollercoaster. the edge of tipsiness that's got a hold of his brain doesn't allow for any of those sensible ways. instead, he listens, watches shiro's expression fall and turns inwards.

used to be. frankly, keith hasn't given much thought to what shiro was like before adam. he doesn't know what exactly shiro was like when he was keith's age, but increasingly the contrast makes keith feel like slamming his fists down onto the table.

it's no secret that his life has been messed up for a while, helped no less by being involuntarily plunnged into a space war. it's normal for keith, sure, but these glimpses he gets of what his life could have been if he'd never given up on himself and everyone around him, never gotten involved in blowing up alien warcrafts....

it's pointless to create stupid hypotheticals like that. keith knows that much all too well, but for a second that alternate reality where he, too, could have had a nice life, a nice boy to be ball experts with and wasn't dealing with existential threats in multiple realities really gets to him. ]

Yeah? Well you didn't almost die a goddamn virgin.

[ it's almost comedically huffy, especially with the way keith's started glaring at his turkey ball. ]

And at least turkey balls weren't your first balls.

[ and with that said? he finally pops the turkey ball in his mouth and chomps angrily. ]

[ oh. so is that what they’re doing? shiro didn’t realize they were one-upping each other with who has the more pathetic sex life. this isn’t the right environment for this kind of heart to heart. with a clearer mind, shiro would be able to empathize with how keith’s youth is being robbed – has been robbed. shiro lacks a lot of the in depth details of keith’s adolescence and early teens, but coming from a single-parent home to a no-parent home is beyond shiro’s comprehension. difficult is putting it too lightly; shiro will never fully understand how trying those years had to be. and everything that’s come after? from the fallout of kerberos to voltron to here… – life has been equal parts unkind and unfair to keith.

just as it has been to shiro. so keith’s snotty attitude? shiro bristles, slightly, in the face of it, immediately thinking of how many times he’s almost died. sure, he wouldn’t have died a virgin, but he has a slew of other things that could be said. almost died being known as a failure to all of earth. almost died as a circus monkey to a roaring crowd. almost died as a false, maybe paladin. see, he can do it too.

don’t get mad. the self-soothing lacks its usual stability and he barely recognizes it for what it is. he’s frustrated, but perhaps not for this sick competition keith’s started. he’s more frustrated at keith being frustrated, because to shiro, it seems unwarranted. this is fixable. this is something easily dealt with. so: ]

Why are you so upset? [ it’s genuine in curiosity, but the careful tact is missing. it comes out without measure, sounding huffy and exasperated. ] It’s not like that had to be your first.

[ face tipped toward keith, shiro watches him chomp through one hard chew and then sits properly again. actually, no, he doesn’t. he sits up and hardly pauses before hunching his weight forward, resting his forearms on the table to lean into them. ]

You always do this [ wrinkles his nose, looking at his hands. ] You count yourself out before you give yourself a chance. You're better than that.

[ always isn’t a fair assessment. but his words are also slightly slurred, so wide, sweeping generalizations are the best he can manage right now. ]

You could have any guy in here if you put the tiniest of effort into it. [ if meaningless hook-ups is something keith wants. he frowns deeper at that. what happened to keith’s goal of putting himself out there? did one bad crush have keith now thinking he’ll be stuck alone forever? idiot. ]

[ why are you so upset? great. keith doesn't like having his feelings brushed aside like that on a good day, but it's especially intolerable coming from shiro. you always do this. that's another nerve skewered. if you put in the tiniest bit of effort into it.

if keith were processing anything rationally, this would have all been irritating yes, but nothing outside of his tolerance level. in the moment however, it comes across a whole lot like the only person allowed to feel sorry for themselves is shiro and keith erupts out his seat, very nearly knocking it backwards. ]

And what about you, huh? What's keeping you from going back to your old ways if you miss 'em so much? Nobody cares about a bit of scarring, you know. Nobody whose opinion matters anyway.

[ he takes an uneven step away from the table, forcing himself to take a deep breath. ]

I'm going home.

[ it’s far too easy to feed off of that anger. keith’s blood pressure is obviously skyrocketing and shiro’s is escalating too, frown pinching tight and shoulders going rigid, taunt, solid…

only for the wind to be sucked right out of his sails with three simple words. oh. what? he’s leaving? now? why? wait. and from there, everything unravels. his frustration isn’t wiped clean but it’s sofer, more manageable, and inevitably, becomes saturated with regret. not enough for him to say sorry, however; not when he’s still emotionally keeled over from that suckerpunch to his gut about how the wreck of his body is so easily overlooked. it’s not. it’s fucking not, and suggesting it, especially in a fit to win an argument, is such a mockery that it’s borderline unforgivable.

so they’re even, he supposes. neither of them need to say sorry for this blunder of a conversation. and if keith wants to be far away from shiro, then… ]

Okay.

[ he swallows thickly and stubbornly refuses to crumble. it feels a lot like defeat though. that strong line of his shoulders give and they do hunch, ever so slightly, as he makes a point of keeping his gaze on the table. they’re supposed to stick together. they’re supposed to always have each other’s backs. distantly, shiro realizes that he shouldn’t allow keith to head back to headquarters all by himself, especially impaired.

– but shiro is also impaired and doesn’t push. in fact, he doesn’t even sound sure of where he’s supposed to be. ]

I’ll… stay here? [ is that what keith wants? is that what shiro wants? he doesn’t know anymore. ]

[ this is easily one of the most miserable thanksgivings keith has spent in his life. it's a fact that keith registers, digests and instantly feels sick over, but for the life of him he has to get out of this fucking bar because even the live music feels like it's mocking him.

i tried so hard and got so far but in the end it doesn't even matter?

great. just fucking great.

he turns away from shiro without another word, eyes fixed on the exit. though dizzy on his feet, keith manages not to bump into anyone on the way out nor does he ever stop to look over his shoulder to check if shiro is following. whatever autopsy is to be done of the conversation and assign blame to who was over the line, keith isn't about to do it while his head is pounding.

of course, he can more or less hear everyone blaming him anyway because everything is always somehow his fault whenever arguments are fucking concerned, but that only makes him angrier. finally, just as he reaches the door he bumps into a guy who'd been coming inside, hard enough to elicit a growled watch it and for a mad second keith considers just outright snarling in response.

mercifully, he doesn;t.

one scowl and the altercation that could have been glosses on over and keith leans heavily against the front of the building to take a couple of deep breaths. ]

Edited 2021-12-15 03:54 (UTC)

[ he lasts two minutes. time is a nebulous concept at present and to shiro, despite the same song still playing, it feels far longer than that. it feels like he’s wasted away precious tens of minutes, staring at his soggy, abandoned drink making a condensation ring on the table. the regret is coming on stronger now. without keith standing within reach, heck, even standing within eyesight, all of that annoyance and exasperation has lost its fixated point, crushed under the weighty knowledge that he let keith slink out of here feeling… what? discarded? unwanted? unworthy?

strange, considering this whole disagreement stemmed from shiro trying to verbalize how keith is a bit of a gem. smart, brave, funny, adventurous, strong, loyal, good-looking to boot… of course keith could snatch up any guy if he let down his walls a smidge. he’s a precious find; shiro knows that well.

and yet he’s let keith go, to walk the ten or so city blocks alone, despite this reality being riddled with dangerous occurrences. fuck, how many times have shiro and keith been out together, and just barely escaped disaster? granted, most have happened in dogtown but does he want to take that chance and gamble with keith’s well-being?

it’s taken awhile for that thought to become clear in his brain but inevitably, it settles and he thinks, no, he can’t sit here and not watch keith’s back. furthermore? it isn’t just about safety either. as he gets to his feet and rushes in the wake of keith’s exit, weaving on steps that cannot for the life of him follow a straight-shot to the door, shiro also, already, somehow misses keith. a touch affectionate and a touch irrational from drink, it’s more paramount for him to find his friend than it is to stay mad for… reasons that become murkier by the second.

the blast of cold air greets him once he finds himself outside. he feels a little more alert and yet, he still comes out rushed and a pinch agitated when he doesn’t immediately see keith. he turns to start off in the direction of headquarters, wondering how many blocks ahead keith is, when he sees him there, leaning against the building. surprise has him stopping short. relief has him visibly relaxing. and eagerness to keep keith this time has him blurting out: ]

I wanna go with you.

[ if nothing else, the new england chill has a bit of a sobering effect. or maybe that's more attributable to having a solid wall and distance away from the live band drumming the headache deeper in his head. or maybe all of that's pure bullshit because keith does, in fact, lose track of time as he stands outside the bar, breathing in deep lungfuls of cold air.

he isn't soothed by any means. he feels out of place and out of odds with himself and the feeling only seems to intensify as the denizens of gloucester pass by, some with indifference others with vague disapproval. though he'd just said he was going home, this place is pretty far from it. no desert, no warm sunshine, just some crappy town in massachusetts with even crappier happenstances.

and of course, the one person here who shares that real home with him is the same person who's pissed off at him now. the part of him that's still feeling vindictive and bruised over the insinuation that he's not trying hard enough thinks fuck him. the rest just feels even more miserable.

suffice to say, he doesn't expect shiro to come bursting out of the bar. despite being pissed, there's still some part of him that's a little relieved? happy? pathetic. keith looks over, struck just a little bit stupid until a moment later, he redirects his gaze to the ground. ]

I can get back just fine on my own.

[ cuz that's what this is about right? coddling? probably. ]

[ shiro’s a bit of a fool. he was hoping keith would be more apt to accepting him after their – extremely long – separation, but apparently not. still sore, still disgruntled, still very much with the attitude of leave him the fuck alone. that almost seems to have a more sobering effect than the chill in the air. all at once, shiro sees his options laid out before him and out of the handful, there’s really only one ace in the hole.

and he’s discombobulated enough to exploit it. ]

Maybe I can’t.

[ – make it back fine. keith was worried about shiro earlier, wasn’t he? keith is always worried about shiro. it’s a fact that usually has shiro inwardly sighing, clenching his jaw and assuring – very similarly to keith – that he’s fine and can handle himself. but right here, right now, with shiro swaying just barely on legs that aren’t nearly as solid as they ought to be, it’s comforting to know that keith cares. he has to. despite how upset he is, the one constant that shiro can always depend on is that keith will come to his rescue.

… right? ]

[ ..... ah.

forget having his arms and legs pinned down while wrestling, this moment right here is the most backed into a corner keith's ever felt by shiro. his head snaps up, mouth hanging ope with a rebuttal that just doesn't come.

the fact of the matter is that keith can count on one hand the number of times shiro's fessed up to needing help or feeling vulnerable since they've been here and no matter how annoyed he is, there's just no amount of annoyance in the world that could really override the basic desire to make sure his best friend is okay.

he closes his mouth, gaze never quite catching's shiro's but still looking in his direction to see how unsteady he is on his feet. ]

You wanted to do that competition, right? [ he sighs internally. does he really want to go back inside the goddamn bar? no, not really, but the point of him leaving had also been in part not to ruin the rest of shiro's evening at the festival. ] I'll wait here for you to be done. Then I'll carry you back.

[ it takes conscious effort not to smile in victory, which means shiro is only marginally successful. at least it’s nothing too damning; just an upkick of his lips and a visible brightening of his mood. excellent. mission accomplished.

sort of?

as quickly as it’s come, the smile dims and shiro takes a long, couple of moments to first stare at keith, then glance to the bar entrance, and once more, return his attention to keith, who is, of course, unbudging from his wall lean. it’s cold out here. it’s dark out here too. he knows keith can likely kick the ass of any rowdy drunk exiting the bar but shiro is still thrumming high on a desire to stay close to his best friend until this evening is over. ]

I can’t win without you there. [ a guilt trip isn’t going to cut it. he realizes this with some clarity and quickly tacks on a cheap shot: ] Please? [ a beat, the frown clearing to make way for a hopeful smile. ]

[ what keith wants to do is sigh and rake fingers through his hair. does he know how to feel about any of this? no. but that isn't really anything new. shiro acting like they didnt just have a conversation that turned sour is clearly meant as some kind of ceasefire.

is keith ready to reciprocate? yes and no. yes, as far as shiro's safety and overall well being are concerned. but that's not a free pass on dropping his indignation over being told in no uncertain terms that he doesn't work hard enough.... to what? ditch his virginity?

the spat had been ludicrous from start to finish, but he's never dealt well with shiro's disappointment and he can't help hating the stupid contradiction he keeps living in being both introverted and guarded while also feeling lonely and disconnected.

but that's his own fucking fault for not trying hard enough, huh? ]

Fine.

[ keith irritably peels himself off the wall and starts heading back inside the bar. fine. feeling deifant, he pushes the door open with more force than necesary. ]

You compete. I'll talk to guys at the bar.

[ about what? don't even ask keith, he doesn't know. ]

[ this isn’t going well. blearily, shiro blinks with off-timed eyes, staring as keith barges through the door. he’s amending that earlier assessment: this is going disastrously. especially, when a moment later, as shiro kicks himself into gear to follow after keith before that door swings shut, keith tacks on a vow to go talk to other men. shock hits first, enough to have him almost stumbling over his own uncoordinated steps, shoulder bumping with the door as he slips back inside the establishment. irritation comes next, both at the damn door and at keith. why? keith is supposed to watch shiro. to cheer him on and care whether he does well or not. this keith, apparently, doesn’t give a shit about the competition or in some ways, shiro himself.

he bites on the inside of his cheeks, grinding the soft tissue through the next three steps and then abruptly relaxes his jaw, exhaling heavily through his nose. ]

Okay.

[ keith is ahead of him by some paces, so whether he hears him or not, shiro doesn’t even know. they’re almost at the crossroads though, where keith should veer left and shiro should continue straight, toward the large table being set up on the previously occupied stage. he has roughly four seconds to decide. should he play his part of the supportive best friend, as he did before, by encouraging keith to score with a guy here? or should he give into that festering irritation that’s pooling in his stomach, making it roil and clench uncomfortably until he’s balling his fists at his sides? ]

Good luck. [ seems he’s intent on sticking to his guns. it lacks any genuine quality however, and unfortunately, comes out more dismissive than anything. he continues right on though, not bothering to look at keith as he moves forward toward the competition table.

everything from there becomes a blur fairly quickly.

checking in is easy. he’s directed to a chair and soon has a large mug of beer set down in front of him. every competitor does. to help wash down the balls is the teasing explanation. some of the other competitors take to sampling as the rest of the table is set up. shiro makes the mistake of searching keith out at the bar, foolishly hoping that keith will be watching. he’s not. in fact, he seems to be scoping out his surroundings. or better said, the men. shiro starts drinking from his mug as well.

next, shiro ends up with a bib and a basket of balls: ten balls in each basket, once he finishes, another filled basket will replace the first. rules are explained and then the announcer moves outward, drawing the attention of the crowd. shiro’s halfway through his mug by the time the crowd is cheering. again, he makes the mistake of looking for keith and – squints. is he talking to someone? shiro glances away before fully confirming it and downs the rest of his drink. at least he isn’t the only poor sap who needs a refill before the competition has even started.

but then it starts.

honestly, he spends more time drinking than he should. he does well enough, but his heart isn’t in it. why should he care about making himself sick on fried food to a bunch of strangers? it was meant to be a dumb experience had with his best friend, but said best friend is too busy trying to get laid to watch shiro make a fool of himself. not that shiro can be mad, seeing as he’s the one to tell him to do it.

when the buzzer sounds, shiro winds up just barely beating out the man to his right and nabbing second. no prize for mister second place though. cheers sound, congratulations are passed around and shiro unsteadily gets up from the table only after being gently prodded by staff, telling him they need to clean up so the band can come back on. forgetting that he’s still wearing his plastic bib, he gets down from the stage without incident and meanders off, only to plop down at the first open table that he comes across. baskets of fried testicles and mugs of beer all sloshing around in his stomach… – he leans back in his chair and runs his hands over his face, feeling a little sick. hopefully he doesn’t need to visit the bathroom and hurl afterall. ]

Welcome to the Annual Turkey Testicle Festival!

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