I DIDNT THINK IT WOULD TURN OUT THIS WAY

[The Mood is Write]

Clad in her winter gear, despite it being rather light, Faida hopped through the elliptical portal into the meeting place where she would meet the informant, talk over where to find the place in question, and discover what they had seen that so worried them. She hooked a finger through the side edge of the portal, hooked it, and pulled. The portal collapsed into a looped length of yarn with a beaded tail, and she looped it in half, then smaller and smaller until it was several inch-wide loops in a row before she slipped the yarn onto a carabiner, snapped it shut, and slipped it into a pocket.

When she turned, a man greeted her by name.

"Faida." His direct gaze offered no question.

"Mhm." She adjusted her hat. "I just need directions and to hear more about what you saw, Kevin." Her smile, warm and decorated in soft pink lipstick, offered cheer that seemed to do nothing for Kevin.

"Right, right." He waved a hand. "To get there, take a left out the alley, then a right about three blocks down. on the next block, take a left, and it'll be on the..." He paused eyes directed upward. "It will be on the left."

Quickly, Faida tapped the directions into her phone in shorthand, then lifted her gaze. "Thank you. Now, as for what you saw?"

"A customer walked out, just got his tattoo fresh, and rubbed at it. A few moments later, when he was about... halfway down the block, he burst into flames," Kevin shrugged.

"Did you see the design? What did the customer look like?"

"Couldn't see from the distance, but the customer was somewhere between large and tubby, very tall, and bald. Wore a wife-beater and jeans." The man's voice droned, disinterest apparent.

"Thank you!" Faida beamed. "I think that's enough to work with. Thank you again!" She offered a wave as she began to jog from the alley, but it didn't take long before she discovered the directions were bad. She returned to the alley and found it empty, then tried the directions again and again, trying variations and finding nothing. It began to snow...

~*~​

Faida closed her eyes. She'd been in this god-forsaken part of town for three days with no sign of the tattoo parlor that the informant had given such 'helpful' directions to find. Either the place was unmarked, the directions were blatantly wrong, or this was some attempt to make her freeze to death on what should have been a simple mission, only marked two stars for the possibility of danger.

Heavy snowflakes from the ongoing blizzard landed among her hair and across her eyelashes and nose, like painful bites from minuscule fairies. Her extremities felt numb, but her feet continued, each step closer to a stomp to try and send blood into the heavy limbs.

She was hungry, her lips kept cracking open, her nose tingled with a bleed that wouldn't come, and she was pretty damn sure her pad had frozen onto her body. She took a step in the whiteness, and instead of simply snow, she felt her weight suddenly fling forward after a scrape came from below. She fell forward, unable to find her balance again, and landed face-first in someone's front yard. As though to mock her, the storm eased enough that a person could see up and down the block, and the woman in her dark brown coat stood out against the white snow, reddened fingers splayed as she remained where she fell.

This was it. This was the end. She couldn't breathe, she was hungry, and she could feel the snow begin to sap still more of her body's heat from her as it melted and soaked into her clothing and icy water melted by her breath dripped down her face and froze, sealing eyelashes and clinging to her frozen snot.

She was going to die, or at least be dead-like, and nobody would ever find her, and she'd never find out if Rare and Brock would stop dancing around and become an official couple, and she'd never find out if Kinny would stop chasing tail and see that he had a sweet girl called Yasmin who wanted him, and would Lady Jade ever find anyone? Would anyone come and find her? Would... would... would...

 

[underpressure]

The weather was nicer than he'd anticipated. Being that Antonio saw gruesome sights every day in his shop, that was a feeling only he had. Tattoo-You looked unlike other hole-in-the-wall shops on that block. The sign was in lettering that was clearly meant to look regal, but ended up looking like a trashy wedding invitation. It was built somewhere between a barbershop and a church, with rows of vinyl seats and fine desks on polished oak floor. The positions of the seats and general shape of the building's interior seemed to funnel into the desk and the backdoor, on the opposite side to the entrance. The carpet down the middle seemed to stretch on forever, and from speakers in the far back being shot outwards was a song that Antonio knew too well.

Antonio walked from the desk to the back-room and opening the door. He dug out a broom and dustpan, and walked back to a seat that sat a little too close to his desk-- the focal point of the room. Around the seat was a ring of dead skin white as the snow outside, with patches of ash-grey and charcoal-black. Antonio took to sweeping it all up, before dumping it in the dustbin by his desk. He sighed loudly, reaching a hand behind his head and scratching. "I thought he wanted me to get rid of his eczema. I did. I dunno why he was cursing at me about it..." He said, almost completely oblivious to the fact that he set the man on fire and flayed a layer of skin off. He thanked the God who surely despised him that there were no visitors at the moment.

He felt perfectly healthy, but a little jittery at having to touch human waste like that. To take the edge off, he walked over to his desk and pulled out a pack of menthols. He put one of the cigarettes in his mouth, and took out a cheap lighter with the Empire State Building on the side, before lighting the cigarette and putting the lighter as well as the carton away. Seeing from the glass-pane door that someone was outside and nearly dead, he was shocked-- completely negating any calm he wanted the cocktail of chemicals to put in him.

Antonio ran down the length of the store, pushing through the door infront. Seeing Faida on the ground and covered in snow, he knelt down next to her. Antonio tried to heft her up over one shoulder, and carry her inside. He set her in a chair halfway between the desk and the door, panting a little both with physical exertion, and with panic at someone dying infront of his store. He threw his thick black coat over her like a blanket, and ran back down the length of the store, pushing through to the back-room. He reemerged with two cups of hot green tea, and walked over to her. He sat them down on the desk next to her chair, and tapped a finger on her shoulder. "A-are you okay? Please, still be alive..." He pleaded, looking down at the woman in the chair with a hurt expression, like a lost puppy.

 

[The Mood is Write]

The woman was silent and felt cold to the touch thanks to the chill of the blizzard that ended during the night. Still, she breathed. Slow, shallow breaths entered and exited through her open mouth as she sat limp in the chair, head lolled to one side.

She could feel something touch her, but her eyes, frozen shut at the lashes, refused to open. Her nose was crusted with frozen snot and most of her small parts: nose, ears, fingers, and lips were discolored.

The warmth of the shop soon melted the ice from her face and clothing and left her thoroughly dampened. Every part of her body stung as little by little, heat welcomed blood back to it.

Faida groaned, unable to enunciate, body unresponsive and heavy.

The scent of tea teased her nose, accompanied by a male, full of the particular combination of fear and sorrow that comprised 'worry'.

She registered a warm weight on her torso, and breathed in through her running nose. It smelled warm. The fabric was perfumed with male scents, but more as well: ink, blood, some pain, and sweat. Other aromas mingled to lesser degrees, but 'man' was the one that stuck out most to her half-conscious mind.

Faida rather liked the man-scent. She focused on it, sniffing, trying to learn about its owner as her concentration slowly brushed the edge from the pain of regaining circulation.

 

[underpressure]

Antonio had his hands against his mouth with fingers clasped around his cigarette, trying to stifle the fact that he was still panting with shock, and anticipation that Faida would keel over at any moment. He gave it a minute, and after seeing her start to come to life again with her small groan and brief bout of sniffing around, he smiled at her. "I'm so glad you're still here. I could never forgive myself if someone died near or in my store." He said, before taking a long drag of his cigarette, and blowing the smoke straight up into the slowly turning ceiling fan.

How fitting that a song about guys experiencing shitty weather and violent, howling winds in the great outdoors was blasting in the back over the speakers, as he tended to a woman who nearly died in a blizzard. Antonio grew mad at it, but the 8 minute prose piece hit another keyboard solo. That, and the big draught of cigarette smoke he took really mellowed him out.

Antonio turned and leaned over the desk by the chair he was in, trying to get his hands warm by clasping them around his cup of tea. After a second, he silently prayed to the cosmic forces his sigils ran on, and put his heated hands to her face to try and get Faida to come-to much faster. He then took a sharp exhale, waiting for her to tell him to stop, or atleast react in some way.

 

[The Mood is Write]

Other scents began to come apparent. Tobacco smoke, a person's breath, dead skin, cleaning solutions... Her brow furrowed slightly, then lifted back as she noticed the distant-seeming murmur of someone speaking. Other scents tickled her nose, and the sound of... what was that annoying buzzing? It mixed with the ringing in her ears, and her brows began to furrow again, the muscles in her face still stiff and near-useless.

Sudden heat grew across her face. She inhaled sharply. It felt like someone lit a fire on her skin! Her eyelids twitched, her nostrils flared. She sniffed again, and her eyebrows lifted away from the half-numb scowl. Even through her runny, snot-filled nose, she could smell the scent of a man, suddenly so much stronger.

Faida began to sniff in earnest, shallow breaths, and her sluggish pulse began slowly to rose. Fresh pain erupted as the line of unfrozen flesh slowly expanded down her arms, legs, ears, and nose. She opened her mouth again and breathed out heavily, then started to sniff again. This scent, she liked it. It sent images of safety to her mind, despite the sweet reek of tobacco smoke that clung to them.

If he tried to pull from her, her face turned into a stiff pout. If he tried to shift his weight or fidget, he earned a similar reaction, and eventually, by the time their tea cups had gone cold, she managed to crack her eyelids open to reveal slivers of orange between them. Color returned slowly to her face, and she shifted her weight slightly in the chair. A quiet groan escaped.

The Hunter stared up at the blurry shape above: a person, probably a man, and their arms reached down toward her face. Her eyes slid back shut for a few long moments, and Faida drifted off for several long moments before she suddenly re-emerged and managed to open her eyes slightly wider. She stared at the man, and then slowly licked her lips.

 

[underpressure]

Antonio held his hands on her cheeks gently, waiting until she was ready to tell him to stop to consider moving them. Her face still felt ice-cold, even if she was starting to slowly regain consciousness. He panted a little, staring at her eyes and waiting. A sigh of relief escaped him when he saw them open for the first time, and healthy looking orange beads greeted him. She was alive and coming awake after all, and it gave him the faintest grin.

Whatever it was she was hearing, he couldn't hear it. The lengthy outro of the song blasting in the back came and went, and it was replaced by something else. Heavy and Queen-esque piano riffs came crashing in, and melodic Italian vocals similar to the singer of Yes thudded against the rest of the track. It seemed to consume the room, in it's church-like accoustics and shaping-- making of his tattoo shop a large speaker that he and Faida were trapped in.

Antonio couldn't bear thinking what she thought of him, but her stabilizing seemed to calm him down. His hands stopped trembling as they rested on her face, and his breathing slowed. It also didn't hurt that he was still holding onto that cigarette, though it stunk up the room with something he considered 'smooth and rich', but at the end of the day was still a cocktail of chemicals putting out a combination of new-car-smell and incense into the air.

His expression grew more neutral, and he took a deep breath. "Hey. Are you still with me?" He said with a steadily arching brow, watching Faida's eyes incase they slowly opened again. He had no idea where she came from, but the fact that she was frostbitten and injured was obvious. That she dressed for the winter and was woefully underprepared anyways? Also clear to him. He'd have to wait for her, incase he had a question to ask.

 

[The Mood is Write]

Faida's eyes stared again at the man above her, and she tried to speak, but her throat refused it. Instead she nodded once, slow and sore. The intense worry and pleading on his blurry face had faded to something more neutral and a bit less blurry. She could hear now through the ringing in her ears, and the buzzing was music that seemed to grow louder the longer she remained conscious.

She forced a breath as deep as she could, then shifted again in the chair. Her healing was starting to kick in more, and her lower eyelids lifted as the uppers raised with her eyebrows as her jaw suddenly stiffened. Her whole body burned, like she'd been thrown into a fire (again), and color returned quickly now, regardless of her wishes.

A tiny whimper escaped as her hands sought something to grasp, and her legs tensed. Her back arched, and she let out another whimper before she panted for a few moments. She seemed unchanged, but her eyes were unfocused, and the chapped and frozen flesh had returned to a pale, healthy pink.

"Ow..." The groan came out hoarse, and she pulled the coat-blanket tighter around herself as her body began to grow warmer in its attempt to counteract the chill that still remained in some of her body. She licked her lips and forced focus into her eyes, then looked toward the stranger whose hands smelled... mostly nice.

"Tempted to pull you down here, steal more warms," she told him in a slur.

 

[underpressure]

Antonio seemed to stare back down at her, with wide and owl-like eyes. He blinked a couple times, and couldn't help but notice that her face felt soft. It was clear she didn't come to do harm, but her presence to begin with was something he had no clue about. He tilted his head to throw back some of his bleach-blond hair from his face, and continued to watch with slow but heavy breaths.

He seemed relieved that Faida was starting to come to, and slowly pulled his hands from her face. He was down to a little stump of cigarette, and pulled aside the trash can under the desk by her seat to spit it out into. He took a deep breath in, then out. He then reached for his cup of tea, and proceeded to lean on the desk and sip at it. Despite wearing just a He-Man t-shirt, grey slacks, and slippers, any signs of cold she could see were just his slight and infrequent shivers. Tattoo You was warmer than usual that day, so it was clear he wasn't shivering because of the cold.

"All through the city they put up blizzard warnings. Sent to every phone like an amber-alert. Why were you out there?" Antonio said with a concerned expression once more, before walking back to his desk. He pulled the swivel-chair over to behind Faida's seat, and sat in it with his arms thrown around her shoulders to try and warm her up more.

"I want to sit here with you too. I want to know what you were doing out there, before that. Did someone kick you out?" He said, breathing in and out slowly. As much as he needed answers, he couldn't bring himself to be angry or hurt Faida. That she was even at fault seemed a little beyond him.

 

[The Mood is Write]

Faida slowly shifted, hips sore despite lack of real use. The strange man with his pretty hair watched her, but pulled away to toss out a cigarette and sip his tea. She watched him in turn, body struggling with simple things like movement. She wanted to strip away her winter gear. It felt stifling heavy, but her arms still felt like they were made of massive bricks.

He mentioned warnings throughout the city, including sent to phones. She tried to think of something that was at least partway honest as she watched him go, then return from the other side of the desk with a swivel chair. He pulled it beside her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. A few moments' struggle brought her shoulder to rest firmly against his chest, and her head on his shoulder. "Kinda similar. Kinda." Her voice sounded gross and talking hurt, but she kept going.

"My boss, she got a message saying one of our assets was at risk, so I was sent here, and the liaison arranged the meeting place and when so he could tell me about where..." She paused to yawn, chest feeling constricted by the weight on it and by how much she said in only a few breaths.

"So he could tell me where to find our assets, cuz... I dunno. I ain't party to secrets." So far, all truth, though she had used different words than were fully honest. "But he gave me drections and I went off looking, but his directions were wrong, and then the storm started, but I don't know anyone here so not really any...—" Faida cut off as her jaw stretched in a huge yawn even as her mouth kept moving with the words.

"Mm. How long was th'storm anyway?" She tried to wriggle closer to the man.

 

[underpressure]

Antonio took in her words, and blinked a few times. He glanced at the ceiling and thought it over, before looking back to Faida in his arms. She still felt cold to him, and so he took a hand off of her. He didn't want her to bend over backwards and bust up his chair to sit with him, so he let go and moved the swivel-chair so it sat infront of her. He reached for the cup of tea on the desk, and then reached inside the desk's drawer for a felt-tip pen. He held the cup up with one hand, and on the underside he quickly drew a campfire with kindling poking out the sides. When he sat the cup down, steam began to rise, as the tea began reheating itself.

He then reached out, and tried to set the cup within reach for her. "Go ahead. I brewed this one for you." He said, before finishing off his. He set that on the desk beside hers, and clapped his hands together. "The storm is still going. Like they said, 'BLIZZARD WARNING, DO NOT LEAVE WHERE YOU ARE UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE.' I guess we're stuck here." He said, with a slight smirk.

He then put the pen back in the drawer, and looked back to Faida. Antonio couldn't help but feel sorry for her. He sat with his legs crossed at the knee and hands folded in his lap, like a school teacher waiting for the class to settle down. "So, you got bad directions, and you got lost looking for something. Thanks for telling me your story. Is there anything else you want, while we wait it out?" He asked, before going deadly-silent. He leaned his head back and let all the hair in his face hang towards the ground, with his eyes shut. He wanted her to keep talking, but the lyrics he couldn't understand and rigorous keyboard abuse were also compelling to him.

 

[The Mood is Write]

Faida watched him with a pout as he pulled away, and then undisguised interest as he wrote on the bottom of a cup and it began to steam. Most worlds with cell phones didn't have magical markers or magic at all, but this one, it seemed, did. Very interesting!

She picked up the tea and held it in fingers that felt aflame as the temperature difference became quickly apparent. Still, she didn't let go as she held the cup and watched her host. "Thanks," she remembered after a few moments where the man commented on being stuck. He returned the pen to his drawer and then watched her with all the patience of someone who should have annoyed her with that sort of posture and expression.

The young woman breathed in the steam from her tea and closed her eyes, then tilted her head to show she was still listening.

"Mm, for now I'm just..." She yawned, unable to get enough air at once any time she spoke, it felt. "Just glad to be out of the weather with a sweet man and a nice... nice cup." She opened her eyes and sipped at her tea, then placed the cup down so it wouldn't spill as she arched her back to stretch, then pushed with her legs. Every part of her felt far too tight!

"Again," she grunted as a stretch began to grow sore, "Thank you. I woulda been a Fadesicle." A brief, tired giggle escaped, and she paused. "Right..."

Silly woman! She'd forgotten something important. "My name, it's Faida. You can call me Fai, Fay, Fade, or whatever you prefer."

The music, her host seemed hypnotized by it, wasn't bad. Not what she was used to, given where she lived, but she found herself enjoying it, even if it was too loud.

 

[underpressure]

Antonio inhaled deep, then exhaled until it looked like he partially deflated in his seat. He started to loosen up, and sink down into his chair. He then moved his padded swivel-chair closer to Faida, and reached out to hold her hands. He seemed to blush a little, and look away for a second when she spoke again.

"Well, I couldn't just let you die out there, and you were too far away to take refuge in the bodega one block away." He said with just a hint of embarrassment, before reaching into the drawer of the desk by her chair and digging out the pen he'd just used.

"If there's anything else you want, you would tell me, right?" He said, looking into her eyes with his wide eyes. He then shook his head, and looked at her with that faint pink blush taking up more of his face. "I'm sorry, if that sounded goofy. It's why I opened this shop. I was obsessed with fairy tales as a kid, and I wanted to make magic happen for people who wound up on my doorstep. I use tattoos and inkpens to try and fix things."

To demonstrate, Antonio held up his empty cup of tea. He started to draw the body parts of a pigeon along its surface, then set it on the floor. Within a minute, a green ceramic pigeon seemed to grow from the cup, the circular handle jutting out the side. Antonio dug around in one of the pockets of his pants, and threw a tiny crumb towards the back room, behind his desk at the other end of the store. The pigeon then started to trot after it, making Antonio smile and clap his hands, as if he'd never seen such a thing before.

"Anyways, I'm Antonio Accardo, and welcome to Tattoo You." He said, before turning in his chair to face Faida again, with no signs of trying to get rid of his jolly grin.

 

[The Mood is Write]

The blonde could only smile, a blush teasing her ears and the far sides of her cheeks as he held her hands and uttered some modest sweet excuse for helping her.

Holy hell, he was cute. He was way, way too cute. It sent a strange, predatory urge through her, but she forced herself to be good. She'd only just met the man, after all! He pulled his hands from hers and dug his pen back from within the desk's drawer.

"I'd tell you. I do appreciate all you've done, and," she paused, "As for goofy, well, goofy is totally my type." Her smile grew, and her eyes narrowed as her cheeks pushed her lower eyelids a short distance upward. His reasons for opening the shop were far too cute for life, and his demonstration even more so. Even his childlike wonder charmed her!

His introduction suddenly dropped her smile as her mouth hung open and eyebrows shot upward. This expression remained for only a moment before she leaned back in the chair and laughed. No use trying to hide that she'd been surprised, and she didn't particularly feel like she could outright lie to Antonio.

"Funny story, Tattoo You is the name of the place I was looking for." The words came out in a bumbling mess, but Faida's still-addled mind from her icy near-end didn't give even the singlest, tiniest shit. "Well, not to say you're my boss's asset, but... It's complicated, and I ain't wholly sure either, I'm just supposed to watch and tell her what I see, and if stuff that's dangerous happens, I gotta step in and help with—" A yawn interrupted her babbling.

A bit of moisture clung to her eyelashes after the yawn, and she wiped at it with the heel of one hand. "I help with keeping everyone safe. You, customers, bystanders, just whoever nearby or inside is in danger of losing life or limb or something like that."

 

[underpressure]

Antonio smiled a little as she looked him over. Faida seemed okay, to him. He leaned back, and raised a hand to scratch at the back of his neck. In fact, she was cuter than he'd admit to himself. He stood up and put the pen back in his desk, and then he remembered this morning.

The fact that this demure girl ended up in his shop felt like a blessing otherwise. Someone who he could share his childish ideals with, who he also felt a connection to... But then she spoke again, telling him of her role as a peacekeeper. To him, it was like a small and yappy Pomeranian working as a police dog. Antonio giggled a little when she said it, then held his hand up in a 'stop' gesture.

"The authorities don't show up unless something has gone wrong. And, trust me. I've made a mistake recently that I'm not proud of." He admitted, also incapable of lying to the other. It would've broken his heart if he didn't let her do her job. Antonio stood from his seat, and walked back to his desk. He picked up the trash can, and walked it over to where Faida sat, putting the can between them as he sat across from her again. In it was a series of rings made entirely of papery dead skin. The spots in between the rings and sometimes on them were tiny pockets of ash. He sighed, looking back to her.

"He asked for me to cure his skin condition. With the combination of symbols I've used, I'm sure he grew a new layer back. This one burned off, and since the blizzard warning, he hasn't notified me of anything. They… They always text me back afterwards." He said, breath growing heavier by the second. He stood from his seat with his arms up in L shapes and hands up. Tears welled up in his eyes, and he looked down at Faida. "I swore I'd… I'd d-do nothing but make people's lives better and try to take away what hurts them… Nothing but take away what hurts them… but it's clear that I failed. Go ahead and take me in." He mumbled, and by now those tears began streaming down his face, as his cheeks ran bright red and his breathing was now audible with how heavy it was.

The thought that he could've killed someone in his beautiful caretaker fantasy... it just tore Antonio apart. It could've been his first offense or his thirty-first, but what was clearest was that he couldn't live with walking free after this particularly big error.

 

[The Mood is Write]

Oh boy, did this take a shift. He seemed happy and bubbly as she explained, but the scent of sorrow came to her nose quickly.

The authorities don't show up unless something has gone wrong.

He had a point, but the fact Antonio himself was saying it quickly brought her lower lip forward. She shifted to lean forward, more attentive as, clearly, part of her job came into play. He returned from behind the desk with a trash can and brought it to her.

The scents from that bin brought a grimace before she looked inside to see... flesh rings? Flesh rings and ash. Her brow furrowed as she tilted her head, ready to listen and quiet as her shoulders dropped, hopes dashed that this might only be a case of too much suspicion because of the unusual: situations like that were common, easily investigated, and then a Hunter could go home happy to have saved some poor sap a lot of trouble stemming from false accusations and assumptions.

Oh hell, now he was crying! Faida pushed herself from the chair and wrapped her arms tight around the man before she could think that maybe that might not be a good idea. She didn't feel like she was in danger. "Hey, hey. Don't cry," she urged as she gave him a squeeze. This close, his scents of fear and anguish felt like someone was forcing gel cream into her nose. Ever empathetic, she could feel her own eyes water.

"Listen, ok? Just... just listen." Faida forced herself to calm with a deep breath, then stepped away and gently, firmly forced his arms down. "I'm only here as an investigator right now, ok? I was just told that things were weird in the area and to look around to make sure nobody is actively preying on anyone else." She fell silent, watching him, and then suddenly wrapped her arms tight around his shoulders. "I can't arrest you right now anyways, goof. Where would I even take you? We're both stuck here."

Well, she wasn't, technically. She had a portal. What she didn't want to. Antonio was very sweet and very sad, and she wasn't going to just leave the poor bastard to his misery.

Except that her legs sure wanted her to, the way they felt wobbly and ready to give out.

 

[underpressure]

Antonio sighed and gathered himself. Being embraced by Faida certainly made him feel better, and it started to show. He took a deep breath, then exhaled with his face buried in her shoulder when she hugged him. He then looked around, a little shocked when she put her hands on him and tried to calm him down. His tears seemed to dry up, leaving him with red, puffy eyes.

"Alright. Alright. Alright. Just... I should probably not do that sort of thing anymore. No more skin care stuff. If that's all you came here for, I'm glad it's all worked out. Maybe he's just in pain, and that's why he didn't text back yet. You're probably right." He said in a bit of a slowly decaying panic, voice no longer cracking and wavering, and starting to look more and more like he did a minute ago. He was no longer in trouble for what happened, yet Antonio couldn't help but still feel bad for that customer. He then clapped his hands together like he was in prayer, and looked into Faida's eyes.

His phone rang again in a large and blaring tone resembling an Amber Alert, and he dug around in his pants for it. When he pulled it out, the screen was covered in big letters, 'BLIZZARD WILL BE OVER IN 10.' And when he looked past Faida and out the windows, he could see the cold and deathly conditions mirroring the Ancient Greek Underworld slowly subsiding, and giving way to a more casual snowday type of weather. He then grinned weakly, and looked up at her. He reached into the desk and grabbed both a black pen, and a sheet of red-tinted printer paper.

Antonio began drawing the interlocked petals of a rose on it with just a bit of stem poking out. When that paper began contorting, forming said rose, he turned to face Faida again and tried to hand it off to her. "I'm so glad it's all over with, and again, that you didn't die out there." He admitted, bringing a hand up to wipe his face a little.

 

[The Mood is Write]

Thankfully he calmed, though he didn't seem to have regained the joy Faida saw previously. His panic began to fade in scent and mannerisms both, though sorrow remained, it didn't smell quite so strong—

Her thoughts came to a sudden stop as the man stared into her eyes and clapped his hands together. Something about the strange mannerism forced her entire body to stillness and silence, and her hearing grew ever-keener, until his heartbeat began to sound deafening.

He broke off to find his phone as it went off within in his pocket, and she tried to be subtle about the sudden and large inward breath. He began to look up again, and Faida grew still, uncertain until he looked past her. Uncertain what the strange paralysis had been, she decided to force it from her mind as the man handed her a flower formed from paper with his magic. She felt she missed several things, but as he praised how they'd made it through and she'd not died, she forced herself to relax and smile.

"I'm pretty hard to kill," she offered with a wink, playful and warm as she tossed aside the strangeness from moments ago. She tucked the rose behind her ear. "Being trapped here and rescued by a very pretty man has been far from unpleasant."

Probably not the time for flirting, but screw it! Flirting was fun, and he was indeed very pretty. Man-pretty.

 

[underpressure]

Antonio sighed with relief, at both the subsiding blizzard and Faida perking up a little. He ran a hand through his hair again, and tilted his head at her like an owl. "Yeah. Having someone to listen to my old records and talk to longer than it takes to draw something on them, that was a blessing." He said, before turning in the swivel chair and kicking at the ground to propel himself along the floor in it. When he made it back to his desk, he reached inside the drawer and pulled out a box full of receipts and torn sheets from a memo pad. He carried it as he wheeled across the floor back to her, and opened the box.

"Our guy should be here. I asked for his phone number and mailing address, incase he wanted something to reduce the redness or have a followup appointment." He said, setting the box atop the desk next to them. "That was this morning, so it should be close to the top." And with that, he reached down into the drawer below, digging out his pen. It's almost like a compulsion, for him.

He then put it back without another move, and groaned a little. Just like that, the 15 minute barrage of Italian harmonizing and keyboard abuse ended, ushering in well-timed cash register rings and the gentle rumble of guitars underneath. He then raised his arms to stretch out his upper back, releasing a series of popping noises. He then chuckled, and looked at Faida with a goofy grin again. "Y'know, I realized today that I can't fix everything, and that's okay. I'd rather my back hurt than it worked like a slinky covered in vaseline." He said, before casting a glance at the box. "If you want to know what happened to my last client, there's a phone on the wall near the door to the back-room, and their number is right there."

 

[The Mood is Write]

"This morning?" Faida tilted her head. "I was out in the blizzard for three days. Lost track of time?" Her tongue peeked from between her lips as she smiled.

Wow, this guy bounced around. First the box, then back cracking, then being glad for his back being painful, and then a phone with the number.

"You're all over the place, aren't you?" She grinned, then gently tapped her finger against his nose as she walked past him to reach that offered phone. At least using a wall phone meant some random guy wouldn't have her number or anything. The idea of a stranger with her number seemed frightening, despite her very real ability to protect herself.

Still though, she dialed the number and waited. Her hips bopped back and forth in time to the music.