[OPEN LOG] Turkey Testicle Festival Open Mingle!

[marmoron]

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.

Comments

[marmoron]

[ ..... 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.

[earthshine]

[ 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. ]

[marmoron]

[ 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. ]

[earthshine]

[ 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. ]

[marmoron]

[ it's impossible to block out the competition in its entirety with the announcer providing commentary and terrible ball puns. with most of the bar paying attention to the chowdown with wagers being put down on victors, keith has even less of an opt out of caring. the guy he sits next to at the bar is an overly friendly sort, curious to know why someone obviously not from gloucester decided to show up to the festival and then seems to find it funny when keith has absolutely no cover story for his goddamn existence in this reality.

if he'd forgotten how much he hates small talk, this brief little interaction is a potent reminder. head swimming slightly, he cuts off the conversation with a slightly overaggressive do you want to hook up? like a man who is determined not to be waylaiid from his mission by stupid chatter. predictably, this does not go well, and keith earns himself an incredulous laugh and a scoot away from the "drunk out of towner."

feeling increasingly exhausted, keith slumps at the bar, just waiting for the thing to be over. of course he's curious to know if shiro's doing okay, but when he chances a look at his best friend chugging down beer, not even looking like he's enjoying himself, the sight only makes keith feel even worse about everything.

shiro doesn't win. as unsurprising as that is, given the glimpse of his face that keith got was, it just solidifies the depressing, irrational feeling that somehow this whole thing is his fault. he doesn't want to get up and face shiro right now, but seeing shiro stumble off after the competition, keith drags himself up one limb at a time to approach the table.

he stands there at first, scrambling for something to say that isn't pointing out the fucking obvious like second place, huh? and in the end doesn't even manage that. ]

You're uh... [ gesturing to his own neck, he makes a quick motion. ] Bib.

[earthshine]

[ massaging at his glabella with the splay of his fingers covering his eyes, shiro doesn’t notice keith until he’s right there in all his awkward presence. one blink of him staring through the gaps of his fingers and then he pulls his hands away, wondering if he’s hallucinating. sad really, for him to find that the more probable explanation here, rather than his best friend willingly seeking him out. for one wild moment, he’s tempted to kick out his foot and nudge keith with the toe of his boot, just to check. thankfully, keith breaks the silence with a handful of words and a gesture, which is, of course, not a confirmation that shiro is not also conjuring this up but… it derails the direction of shiro’s focus and reflex has him answering. ]

Oh.

[ flatly, it comes out once he dips his chin and stares down at his bib himself. there are some ranch globs on it, as well as one, faded line of hot sauce. he gave up on the dips fairly quickly, but not without first inflicting some embarrassing damage, huh? ]

Thanks. [ he grimaces, eyes downcast as he reaches at his nape, fingers finding the knot. it doesn’t want to come undone. he’ll have to thank his earlier agitation for that; he’d tied the plastic far too tight to be undone with ease. so shiro will keep on trying; fumbling and fumbling around the knot with no progress being made.

he will glance up after a few beats though. ]

Wanna go now? [ a beat, that concentrated frown deepening, seemingly missing the concept that he can simply tear the plastic, rather than unknotting it. ] Or are you… [ he doesn’t finish. however, his gaze skirts to the side and beyond keith, looking to the bar. did he find anyone? ]

[marmoron]

[ shiro vs the bib. keith watches the awkward struggle for a long moment, hands curling into fists at his sides to just keep them there instead of reaching across to just yank the plastic off.

okay, so maybe he's not done feeling agitated at everything and nothing simultaneously. but above all else, he just doesn't actually want to feel feelings anymore. he flops down on the chair opposite from shiro and manages a mumbled: ]

I don't wanna talk about it. I want another drink.

[earthshine]

[ well. looks like shiro will have something to keep him busy for the foreseeable future. he’ll defeat this bib at some point, won’t he? tries pinching the knot between his fingernails: ah, shit, nope. he looks back to keith as he flops down, frown still etched.

so, to recap. keith doesn't want to leave. but he is done at the bar. and yet, he also isn't done with the bar because he wants a drink. only, he's now over here.

he pauses in his fumbling, confused. ]

You were just at the bar.

[ translation: if he wants a drink, why didn’t he order one? ]

[marmoron]

[ as the epic battle between shiro and the bib continues, keith sinks lower down into his chair. ]

I can't be near the bar right now.

[ for mysterious reasons that he's already stated he doesn't want to talk about. ]

[earthshine]

[ but shiro is so curious! self-preservation kicks in, miraculously, and he doesn’t ask for an explanation. he merely glances back to the bar, squints as though that will help him in dissecting the mystery of keith’s bar revulsion.

nothing. nothing reveals itself. for whatever reason though, it reboots shiro’s brain and he finally starts tugging at the thin plastic of his bib, rather than trying to unknot it. ]

I can. [ – be near the bar. he thinks? he hasn’t had any bad experiences with the bar.

… other than the flying kangaroo spiked drink. he wonders whatever happened to that drink. ] I’ll get you something.

[marmoron]

[ keith doesn't respond to that right away. you can practically see him doing the sobriety math in his head as he tries to figure out if that's even a good idea. not that the walk home is particularly far or dangerous, but gloucester is unpredictable at the best of times and seeing as shiro's already had an extra couple of beers, it feels a little incumbent on keith to just nurse himself back to a clear head faster.

that'd be the sensible thing to do, presumably.

but damn does he want that easy eject button out of his own head. ]

NO, it's -- [ he sighs, straightening up with an audible sigh. ] ... It's fine. Let's just get back before anything else happens.

[earthshine]

[ he’s still tugging on his bib by the way. he finally realizes that short tugs aren’t making progress. he tugs now in one constant pull, ends of plastic stretching and stretching until – snap, the plastic breaks and he’s free. he grins wide in his success, looking altogether pleased with himself, only for him to refocus on keith as his dismissal registers.

– what else would happen? again, he glances briefly to the bar. ]

… Okay. If you’re sure. [ shiro did want to leave not all that long ago, but he sounds unsure now that he knows keith wants something that is being denied to him. but, agreeing with keith is also something that comes easier, so shiro places the bib on the table and without much pause, pushes himself to his feet.

it’s a bit of a rush. he’s lightheaded in a moment, brow wrinkling and eyes closing as his balance gives to one side, thigh bumping with the table. he’s fine though, really; he’ll say as much as he reopens his eyes and brushes the brief unsteadiness aside. ]

You lead?

[marmoron]

[ keith bites the inside of his lip, not wanting to say anything as shiro finally wins his battle against the bib or when his thigh collides with the table. concern might be warranted, but is it wanted? probably not. he offers a nod in response -- yes, he'll lead, but as he gets to his feet he gently grabs shiro's wrist to tug him through the crowd. ]

Just focus on walking, ok?

[ he'll handle the navigating part. it goes well for the most part until they pass by the bar and the guy from before, now sitting with his friends, spots keith, points and then the whole group laughs. face burning hot, keith's grip tightens around shiro's wrist. teeth grit, he stars walking a little faster to the door. ]

[earthshine]

[ his feet feel clunky. each stride lacks its usual ease and tempo, but keith is leading with a tug at his wrist, meaning, all shiro has to do is follow without any drastic deviation. so he focuses on that, just as keith told him to. it works for a good while. through the tables and breezing by the bar, the main entrance is in sight. shiro isn’t looking that way though. he’s been tossing curious glances at the bar since keith dropped a cryptic contingency and so, it’s only natural to look again now that they’re much closer.

there’s a point. then a series of glances. finally, an accumulation of laughter.

– wait.

shiro’s body keeps moving however. the fingers at his wrist are tighter now and shiro follows the silent encouragement to keep walking for two, three more steps before the wait locks into a command, similarly locking shiro’s legs. he abruptly comes to a stop, unbudging even as keith’s pull remains. he narrows his gaze at the group there at the bar, part curious, part – annoyed? he’s too slow-minded to fully grasp what’s going on but he has the inkling that he should dislike it. ]

What’s their deal?

[marmoron]

[ it should be noted here that keith does not actually want to stop here, but when there's suddenly a 200lb plus mass that suddenly locks into place, forward just isn't a direction of accomodated motion. keith pulls on shiro's arm, then flails mid-step as he looks over his shoulder.

face cherry red, keith tells the most obvious lie in the lannd: ]

Nothing!

[ and thenn quick turns his face forward again before he accidentally locks eyes with the dude at the bar. the laughter's died down a little, but the snickering chatter has not. for the record, the guy that did the pointing is a blond of average build. if the band getting set up and doing their mic checks isn't too distracting, shiro might just be able to hear a guess the desperado found someone after all! ]

C'mon Shiro, let's just go.

[earthshine]

[ shiro’s bullshit sensor is pinging. truly amazing – the same man who struggled to reason his way away from unknotting a bib to the much more effective tearing of said bib, is now perceptive enough to put two and two together. perhaps it can be explained through shiro’s innate care for all things involving keith. maybe it’s simply his drunken curiosity that has him delaying. or maybe keith is such a bad liar that even a sloshed shiro can’t help but notice that something is definitely off here.

either way, shiro regards keith with that squinty, suspicious gaze of his for a beat and then, ignoring all else, looks to that amused bunch of men. what did he say? desperado? is that – wait. shiro looks at keith’s hand at his arm, brain chugging through found someone and then all the little details that come falling into place. the point, the bar, the laughter – he’s talking about keith, isn’t he? no, not talking. he’s making fun of keith.

the checks and balances are out of commission: shiro has none right now. so patience, understanding, an inclination to deescalate a situation…? those shining qualities don’t keep shiro’s expression from darkening. ]

Who is that clown? [ clown? nice insult, shiro. he huffs, still unmoved by keith’s plea to get out of here, especially when half a breath later, another piece of the puzzle abruptly snaps into place. he jerks his head to look at keith. hold on; the clown is sitting at the bar. the bar that keith refused to go back to. ]

Is he why you can’t go near the bar?

[marmoron]

[ the scrutiny is met with an expression equal parts mortified and exasperated. shiro was struggling to navigate the complexities of a plastic bib seconds ago, how the hell is he managing to pull together the threads of keith's latest embarrassment?

of course, shiro isn't exactly being subtle about looking at the guy and his friends at the bar either, so now the conversation shifts as well as some sharp eared fool goes think he's calling you a clown, jeremy, you gonna take that?

god fucking.

keith gives shiro's arm another pull, tone more pleading this time. ]

Shiro. c'mon please--

[ predictably, the boulder doesn't budge. to make matters worse, jeremy snickers and offers over some friendly advice. clown around with that one and you're gonna need testing ]

i hope they get banned, so they can play banned bingo here too.

[earthshine]

[ keith almost has him. the pull and the pleading work in tandem and similarly pull at shiro’s heartstrings, instantly wanting to soothe keith’s distress by doing exactly what he wants. that lasts all of two seconds. the other voice butts in and brings shiro’s gaze right back round, just as quickly stoking frustration back to the surface until its reigning supreme.

patience yields focus. no it doesn’t. take a deep breath and count to ten. nah. sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me. it isn’t working. why is nothing working? he should be proud of keith. keith is trying to be the bigger man here by ignoring the man’s egging in favor of walking away from a fight that shouldn’t happen. it’s such a long way from where shiro first knew keith; when he used to throw punches and land himself in the garrison’s disciplinary office. hopefully keith learned from that. no, not the part pertaining to his own anger and how to restrain it. hopefully he payed attention to shiro’s methods of calming him down and directing his focus to other areas, because looks like shiro wants to take a page out of keith’s playbook.

he kind of wants to punch the smile off this asshole’s face.

irrational. impulsive. stupid. the desire is all of those things and so is shiro with his system flooded by too much drink. ]

He’s got jokes.

[ the grin that curls is unkind. so is the laugh that he forced out. he jerks his arm out of keith’s grip next and then starts advancing, the snickering of the group dying off. clearly, jeremy and co thought the buffer of feet between them would act as an uncrossable barrier. that’s their mistake, among a whole list of mistakes.

shiro’s steps are, as always it seems, hampered with an inability to follow a straight line, but a slight diversion and following correction do little to diminish the overall presence of a thick, burly man looking altogether ready to make a scene. there’s a pocket of space next to jeremy and shiro bullies right into it, slamming his galra hand down on the bar. ]

C’mon, clown, tell another one. Make us laugh. [ jeremy looks sick. so he’s one of those bullies who pretends to have a set made of steel until someone gives the slightest pushback. hmph, pathetic. though, the fact that shiro is still taller, staring down at jeremy, despite the high set of the stool, probably is more unnerving than shiro is giving it credit for.

oh. and the crack of splintering wood, as shiro squeezes the edge of the bar between his tightening fingers and palm. can't forget that. ]

boys please....

[marmoron]

....

[ shiro slips out of keith's grasp and suddenly the situation goes from mortifying to .... fascinating? that's likely the entirely wrong reaction to be having here, but keith can't help watching with some morbid curiosity as to how this is all going to unfold.

intervening and getting shiro out of the bar is unquestionably the right move here, but seeing their roles reversed is a little surreal. where keith wouldh ave just gone for the less talking, more action route of smashing a fist into jeremy's jaw, shiro goes for a more subtle kind of intimidation, huh? again, nothing about the scene should be cathartic, but maybe his lizard brain likes the way jeremy squirms on his barstool.

jeremy's eyes stay on the bar where the wood is splintering, face slightly pale. his two friends have gone similarly quiet, suddenly looking anywhere but jeremy and shiro-ward. when the jokester manages to find his voice again, his demeanors shifted to ingratiating. listen buddy, i'm all out of jokes. how bout i get you a drink and we forget about this whole thing, huh?

frowning, keith steps forward, largely to keep shiro from having more drink. ]

He'll pass. C'mon, Shiro.

[ keith tugs at a sleeve gently, fixing jeremy with a glare. jereny titters, what are you, his nanny? ]

let shiro defend keith's honor ok

[earthshine]

[ sweet, sensible keith, once more stepping in to appease shiro’s baser instincts and try to bring some civility back into the equation. thankfully so too, because jeremy offers a fresh drink and shiro is well on his way to considering it. he shouldn’t, of course, both due to him still just barely keeping a handle on that sick, over-indulged feeling and that the last time some guy bought him a drink, it came with – an alleged – surprise.

shiro looks down to the fingers tugging at his sleeve, needing the visual to help his rationale along, and then he blinks his gaze up to keith’s face instead. it’s just as before: he wants to follow keith’s lead. he doesn’t mind at all that keith does the speaking for him and all at once, he relaxes, from the tense line of his shoulders down to those squeezing galra fingers. no argument comes and he merely stands there watching keith, just beginning to nod, even as keith is busy glaring at jeremy.

but of course jeremy has to open his damn mouth. ]

He’s not my nanny. [ indignant, shiro takes this, perhaps, too personally and shifts closer to keith, not quite going so far as to stand in front of him in some ridiculous show of shielding him from scrutiny. no. shiro ends up standing very close to keith’s side, now sporting a matching glare. ]

He’s my best friend. [ haughty, defensive… proud? it’s a weird mixture of the lot. jeremy for his part, takes it all in with a raised brow and then an, oh. i see it now. it’s slow but traction picks up and a thread of mockery weaves into his voice. definitely best friends. the two cronies snicker as jeremy lobs a cheeky glance their way but…

shiro doesn’t get it. jeremy is supporting the idea that keith is his best friend, which is… right? good? ]

Yeah. [ one last squint and then shiro is the one taking keith by the hand to lead him away. keith wanted to go. shiro settled the dispute. everything is as it should be: time to find the exit.

by the way, be careful on the way out. there’s maybe a yard between them when shiro pauses and glances back to the man and his friends. apparently, a yard is the magic measurement to have jeremy’s confidence returning. best friend here is itching to get laid. don’t put your back to him too long.

… huh? what’s that supposed to mean? jeremy turns away and shares some kind of congratulatory toast with his friends, the lot of them laughing. shiro gets it the moment they knock back their shots and… well, jeremy should’ve taken his own advice. he shouldn’t have put his back to anyone. the yard is crossed. the shot glasses clink to the bar. and shiro fists the back of jeremy’s shirt. all it takes is one hard yank and jeremy is pulled off his stool. shiro can’t say which sound is more satisfying, that thick skull hitting the floor or the pained groan that follows. ]

Heh. Thought you said you were all outta jokes.

shiro the hero... turning his 2 incher shame face on others

[marmoron]

[ there's something unbelievably snide about jeremy's tone when he reoeats the words best friend. to say keith doesn't like it would be an understatement. it wasn't all that long ago that folks at the garrison would talk about their friendship in similar incredulous tones and for better or for worse, jeremy's quickly stoking the flames of keith's ire.

of course they're best friends -- why wouldn't they be best friends? keith has half a mind to demonstrate just how close shiro and him are with a right hook, but then... there's a hand grabbing his.

oh.

the blip of confusion holds for a beat as keith turns his face away from jeremy to look up at shiro curiously. but when shiro starts to walk away, keith decides this is fine. more than fine? he starts to relax visibly the further they get, fingers spreading to gently test if they can be interlaced with shiro's, but ah.....

it's a yard and then he has to hear jeremy's stupid voice and then the warm hand in his is gone. it is genuinely difficult to parse which of those two things is more upsetting in the moment. keith turns and watches shiro hone in like a missile targeted at jeremy's back, then starts catching up just as there's a rough tug and crash as the guy falls backwards onto the ground.

with the band kicking up their second act, the bar doesn't actually go silent. the few people nearest to the bar do stop and stare at the commotion, but nobody besides jeremy's two friends seem particularly outraged. jeremy continues to groan the hell was that for? on the ground, and keith makes the executive decision that he's done talking.

he strides over the rest of the way, stepping on jeremy's outstretched hand on the way. jeremy whimpers and keith steps off. ]

Oops. Didn't see the trash on the ground.

[ is his not-apology. then attention turned fully to shiro, he wraps both arms around his waist. ]

Dunno about you, but I've had enough of this guy's voice. Let's go.

[ it takes a bit of effort, no thanks to the unsteadying effect of the alcohol, but keith hoists shiro up and promptly starts walking out of the bar. ]

no one is safe from shiro's 2 incher shame face. jeremy prolly was a fking 2 incher virgin anyway.

[earthshine]

[ shiro should not be smiling. it’s a gross quality to find delight in the suffering of others and yet, here he is all the same, practically brimming with pride at keith’s supposed oopsie. ha, got him. soon, he has his partner in crime in front of him but before shiro can even begin to string together something halfway to coherent, he’s being – hugged? no. hoisted. surprise colors his expression, dimming that smile somewhat, but that’s as far as it goes: there’s a disconnect in his understanding of what is happening. he’s being picked up, yes, okay, fine; that’s it.

give him a few seconds for the implications to catch up to him.

in the meantime, reflex has him folding his legs up to unhamper keith’s strides and take the strain off his own body from being squeezed in one, long line. legs wrap around keith’s hips, ankles cross down his butt, and arms drape over his shoulders, forearms hugging close along keith’s upper back. it doesn’t feel awkward, despite it certainly looking so to anyone who sees them pass by. shiro is big. there’s a lot of mass to fold up and wrap around keith’s thin frame. shiro is instantly lulled though, finding the feel of keith’s hands and arms beyond comforting.

nonetheless, shiro does take a quick time-out from that pleased haze to shoot one last scathing glare at jeremy.

the distance is growing and soon, the crowd of bodies in the bar will block his view of jeremy slowly picking himself up off the ground. his friends are useless to help and instantly, there’s a mean-spirited ha that sounds off in shiro’s mind. yeah, not everyone can have a friend as wonderful as keith. shiro is lucky, so very lucky to have a best friend like keith. look, he even picked shiro up, when he wasn’t anywhere near the floor like that clown; clearly, keith is leagues above crony one and crony two.

annnnd it’s been a few seconds. ding.

he jerks his head up from where he’d taken to resting his chin on keith’s shoulder, mouth dropping open and eyes widening. ] Woah. Woah. [ he peers down the length of keith’s back, looking at his calves and his heels, one after the other as keith continues to walk along. ]

You’re carrying me. [ disbelief clings to every syllable and while he stays mostly wrapped around keith like a koala, he loosens his arms just enough for him to crane back and stare down at keith’s face straight on. ] You’re – strong. [ and his voice does a curious thing then: it wobbles on the last word, coming out breathy and awed. ]

[marmoron]

[ woah.... having shiro wrap his limbs around him isn't exactly new, but it feels new in this context. it takes keith an embarrassingly short amount of time to decide that he likes it. the way shiro's curled up tight and secure in his arms, legs wound tight around his hips. sure, comfortable isn't exactly the word one would use for carrying a very bulky guy, but it's close somehow. comforting maybe? either way, keith strolls out of the bar to an audience of bewildered bystanders. one of them even awkwardly holds the door open for keith on the way out to be helpful.

outside it's cold again, but this time the winter air has lost some of its punch thanks to having shiro wrapped around his front. keith actually smiles then, happy to continue walking down the street instead of puttig his best friend down like a sensible person. but when shiro straightens up suddenly and blocks up keith's entire field of vision, keith is slow to make any kind of decision on stopping. nope, it's incumbent on the rest of gloucester to get out of his way now. ]

And you're cute. [ is what he blurts out extrmeely ill-advisedly. another beat, then he qualifies hurriedly: ] YOu know.... like a koala?

[ is he helping his case at all? probably not. he keeps walking down to the end of the street, not quiiite realizing he's started to veer a little to the left. the next step he takes solidly pushes shiro's back against a street lamp. ]

[earthshine]

[ cute… like a koala…? no, shiro did not know this, but now he does, and unsurprisingly, he doesn’t know how to process this in a timely manner. the window to react is quickly closing, not that shiro is aware of the streetlamp looming behind him. for those handful of seconds, keith will receive nothing in return other than wide, doe eyes and pinking cheeks… that promptly come into focus when the streetlight bathes them in light that shines brightest right before keith jams shiro’s spine into metal.

it doesn’t hurt, exactly. surprise is more of the culprit that knocks the wind out of shiro’s lungs. wincing is, unfortunately, a go-to response though and shiro does this with a wrinkled nose, closed eyes, and gritted teeth around a garbled noise.

wha… huh? he blinks open his eyes and tips his head back, glaring up at the street lamp. who the fuck put this street lamp here? annoyed question aside, shiro soon abandons it as a more pressing concern butts in. his expression slacks and he jerks a look back to keith’s face, ignoring the throbbing of his own back to ask a very concerned: ]

You okay?

chimes in a tag late to say shiro could find out when he does his investigative journalism

[marmoron]

[ nothing about keith's reactions are particularly fast while he's carrying so much extra weight, but the solid bump and the pained grimace both make him freeze and hurriedly take a large step back.]

Shiro!

[ fuck. the fact that his thoughts are still pretty scrambled here is probably why he doesn't do the obvious and try to set shiro down on the ground to survey the damage. instead, keith's caught on a mental loop of fuckfuckfuck over the fact that he doesn't have a third arm to pat down his friend's back. ]

I'm sorry, I'm sorry -- you're so big that I didn't see the -- [ cranes his head up to confirm what the fuck he even walked into: ] -- the lamp. [ gaze lowering to study shiro's face again, he blabs on. ] Is your back hurt? I didn't mean to get you hurt.

[ a beat, a pause, a deep breath. ]

I didn't even mean to get mad at you before. I just -- [ he bites his lip, hanging his head. ] I wanted so badly for you to have a good time, I don't know what happened.