lostcarnival | LMDMVIYH [OPEN]

Who: Greg and also others
Where: In the Backyard, or around the work tents
When: A couple days after leaving The Matrix
What: Some changes are hard to get used to. Some are welcome returns to familiarity.

Sometimes getting over a bad episode just takes time. Sometimes you need to accept you're not okay in order to start getting okay. Sometimes you need to almost get shot in order to recognize life's better spent enjoying things. Sometimes... sometimes you need to get a little indulgent.

A.

This time of day, a lot of people are probably at work--Greg hopes so anyway. He doesn't want anyone to get bothered by the rumbling of the engine as he rolls his way over to the Backyard... except, he doesn't want it badly enough to avoid blasting rock music from inside the garish, customized van. He keeps the windows rolled up, but the bassline can be heard thrumming through from a fair distance away. Anyone close can surely make out the emphatic squeal of guitar solos through the muffled music.

He can't help himself. He missed this baby, coughing engine and stained seats and all. Maybe he can take the long route back to the trailer... just to make sure the ol' wagon can keep up in this atmosphere... and to let this CD finish, you gotta listen to it all together to get the full experience....

B.

Also, he's finding it's a little hard to physically get around without the car without causing a little bit of a mess. Those little nubs on Greg's forehead have really started to sprout. Four small but undeniably growing antlers, covered in springy fresh moss for some reason, and also whatever else gets caught in them. As much as he's finally pulled out of his funk, Greg's made an effort to ignore them as if they're normal. Totally ordinary!

Thunking into doorframes is uncomfortable, but more embarrassing than painful. (Especially when trying to get in and out of the van.) It's once he hears the rrRRIP as he enters a tent that the bottom really falls out of Greg's stomach and he starts sputtering apologies as he tries to extract the cloth from his horns.

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Get ready for Steven to practically leap on top of the van in enthusiasm. This is the last thing he expected to see and he is so excited. He gets right up to the driver's side door and waves his hands in the air.

"Daaaaad! You got the van?!" he yells, surprised in the most pleasant of ways.

"Hey! You surprised?" Greg's smile is about ready to break right off his face. He puts on the parking break as Steven comes dashing up. Can't expect his kid to join him in a moving car, after all!

"I thought the van might help move stuff around the grounds for work, and bring a nice slice of home along with it. Guess the Ringmaster thought the same!"

"I'm so surprised! I didn't even know you could get stuff like this from home!" It's been a few years since he lived in the van himself, but he still hangs out in there regularly enough that it feels like his second home. Having it here is grounding.

He beams back at his dad, looking at the van wonderingly.

"Oh man, this is the best..."

"Check it out--it's even still got all my junk that I left in here, too!" He reaches around to dig through his old unwashed laundry and battered magazines, before pulling out his guitar--HIS guitar, not the one he had to borrow from the performers! "We already had a mobile home, but this is the furthest it's ever made it!"

Just after Greg has finished rummaging around for his guitar, Steven giggles and gets into the van to hop up on his dad's lap, giddy with happiness. It's such a simple thing, but yet somehow so important right now. He hugs his dad with an arm, his lion tail curling and swishing back and both with unconcealed zest.

At the same time, his gem glows faintly. Though it's almost impossible to separate from his own joy, he can feel Greg's relief and comfort as well. In return, Greg may notice the warmth of Steven's own emotions radiate back to him - it's not a forced empathetic insight so much as a conversational message, offered for Greg to take or leave.

"Yeah! The van never even went into space yet, let alone a whole other world. You can take it all over the place, now!"

Well, the next time they find a stop that doesn't suck, anyway.

That gentle glow of comfort and happiness mingles with Greg's own feelings. It's a strange sensation, but he could hardly call it unfamiliar or unwelcome. It's an emotional conversation they've had before, after all... just not previously so palpable.

Greg sets his guitar aside again to make enough room for Steven, and wraps one arm around him. He squeezes Steven's shoulder for emphasis on the hug, the excitement of the familiar overcoming the strange touch of moss on the skin. "I'm sure we'll be catching eyes wherever we go. I doubt too many fairies have seen a ride like th--ow."

He'd straightened up in his seat just enough to let his antlers knock against the roof. "Ahah. There's also some troubleshooting left to do, but we've gotten it working through wilder stuff."

Steven flinches when Greg knocks his antlers on the roof, but laughs a little when he realizes he's okay. He reaches up to touch one, patting its velvety exterior as if he's comforting it from its booboo.

"I guess these guys do makes roofs extra difficult... but they're so cute, though!" he says cheerfully, giving one of them of a pet. He's getting used to his own changes, and he has to say, he thinks that his dad's are really neat too. Especially the antlers, in fact. He's always thought that deer were cute animals.

"Ehh, my posture's lousy enough that it shouldn't be too much of a problem. I just hope they don't grow too much more than this," Greg says, inviting himself for a world of disappointment down the line, "but they are kinda neat."

He feels at one himself, grinning. "The moss is a nice touch. Distinguishing." It's such a weird thing to be pleased with, but he really is pretty pleased that they have at least the one change in common. The more connecting factors the two of them can share in this, the better.

"Yeah! I didn't know about it at first, but I think I kind of like the moss I've got on me... it goes all the way down to my butt, now!" He pats his rear indicatively, and his tail curls enthusiastically. "It feels kind of like fur..."

He sits in Greg's lap and looks at his hand contemplatively.

"I think the claws a little it much, though. You could hurt somebody with these!"

"Wonder if Lion would have some advice about how to handle those. Though he'd maybe be more interested in keeping them sharp."

Greg gently strokes Steven's tail. Now that he's coming to terms with the changes, he's getting new ways of showing affection to his kid. Can't go wrong with pets.

"You're starting to look pretty related to him, too. Wonder if you two can actually talk soon."

There's something about having fur that makes petting suddenly the best thing ever. Not that being caressed on skin isn't nice too, but the fur makes it as pleasant as when someone ruffles his hair. No wonder cats like it so much. Speaking of cats...

"Oh wow! That would be so cool - I wonder what he'd have to say? I bet he knows all kinds of secrets!" He ponders that for a moment. "...Though he still probably wouldn't tell me about them in advance."

LMDMVIYH [OPEN]

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