How (Not) To Dress To Impress

[control_freak]

Who: Foster and YOU
What: Foster's stubborn refusal to wear presentable clothing gets him on the RM's shitlist. He gets turned into a cow.
Where: The carnival grounds
When: Before the kidnappings
Warnings: Over-the-top self-deprecation, and... uh, he gets turned into a cow.



A. Before

To be honest, Foster wasn't terribly interested in his new... career. His 'hiring' was less of a blur and more of a short yet tedious process of being told what he was going to do and why and then being left to do it. Which... he understood. But he didn't really... care?

He didn't care about the job. His mistakes, yes. He couldn't stop thinking about it. But the whole... part where he was supposed to talk to people? What was he supposed to do? Didn't she know what kind of disgusting, worthless garbage she was counting on? Why, she'd be better off with no one than relying on someone like him. No, she would be better with even literal piles of refuse lining the walkups to her shows. His revolting presence would drive people away, would... would...

Also.

He didn't really like talking to people.

But he had a couple of days to "settle in." To... explore.

And then he has to get to work.

Which he does--a skinny, sallow figure the off-brown colour of an old cement road, dressed only in striped flannel pyjama pants and a haphazardly wrapped blue scarf. On his breaks, he retreats back to the back lot--honestly just a dressed up trailer park, he doesn't understand why they call it a backyard.

And he might not dress for the job--barefoot and ribby, with no shirt and tangled yellow hair--but he's definitely got a way with words.

"Life is short, you know! Too short to live without a little wonder. Without awe. Without magic! But tonight... tonight you can have all that and more! Buy your tickets now..."

He smiles, just shy of brightly.

"Regret lasts a lifetime. No matter how long or short...!"

B. After

There's a new addition to the menagerie.

It's not very exciting. In fact, it's so ordinary that it's kind of odd.

But there it is: a sleepy-eyed, standoffish brown cow.

If you talk to it, it ignores you. If you try to pet it, it moves away.

So.... normal cow?

Lmao no

Comments

A

[mossbuds]

Lars, as usual, is trying desperately to mind his own god damn business in this awful magical nuthouse, but also as usual, people are trying the fuck out of him. Also, he doesn't have headphones or music in this place, so it's a little harder to just tune people out. He's been trying to walk fast with his hands stuffed in his pockets, and to glare at the path beyond, but...

Good lord, is Foster ever a... site...

Lars very rudely leans quite comically back, his hands extracted from his pockets as his expression fixes in a sneer.

"Eugh! What the hell, dude, put on a damn shirt! Ain't nobody gonna wanna be buyin' tickets from some guy who looks homeless and crazy. You look like a dang mess."

He could have ignored this. He really could have. But he's feeling generous today. Fix your damn life, stranger.

[control_freak]

Foster stops talking. For like... an entire second. And he appraises Lars with bright blue eyes. Then he smiles, eyes lidding just slightly.

The thing is... Lars isn't wrong.

"...have you ever heard the phrase 'truth in advertising?'"

Homeless, no.... but 'crazy' and 'a dang mess' aren't really dishonest representations of him, are they? What's wrong with that?

[mossbuds]

Lars gives Foster a lip lift of disgust, and eyes him up and down. This guy's kinda creepy...

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

Lars knows what the phrase means by itself, but is having some trouble parsing it in context.

[control_freak]

Foster's smile widens incrementally, a brief, uncanny glimpse of white teeth and calculated sincerity.

"I mean... well, you can wrap up garbage in a nice box and paper, but it's still just trash, isn't it?"

Imagine, if you will, a beautifully wrapped present. Crisp paper, a heavy box... but there's something strange about it. A smell... would you even want to open it? How would you feel once you did? Rotting food, shredded paper and crushed plastic...

It's better to keep trash where it belongs. Someplace where everyone knows without opening it what's inside.

[mossbuds]

Lars now makes a throaty noise of disgust, feeling himself get goosebumps. He's never met someone so self deprecating. And it's creepy, yeah, but a part of Lars also feels... kinda... something. It's uncomfortable, and Lars might realize in retrospect it's because he's projecting; he understands what Foster's saying, because he kind of relates.

"Sure, I guess," he concludes with a flamboyant wind of his wrist, rolling his eyes flippantly. "But whether or not that's true, that's totally irrelevant! I don't see what that's gotta do with your pitch."

B

[sunflowerfields]

It may not be her job, but Hinawa enjoys spending time with the animals of the carnival. It reminds her of home even with the smell. She notices the new addition immediately, if only because it's so mundane. It's not a giant cat, it doesn't have wings, it's just a cow. Just like the ones back home!

She doesn't hesitate to come right up and reach out to stroke the top of its head. "Hello, are you new here as well?"

[control_freak]

Foster isn't really expecting anyone to touch him. In fact, for the most part, people seem content to ignore him, which is.... strange. Nice, almost. But also... uncomfortable.

Either way--

When Hinawa walks up, he's expecting, at most, a few moments of her talking at him, in that way people talk to all animals--meaninglessly, not expecting a reply. And then she'll go on her way and leave him to.... this.

Not--

He freezes at her touch, paralysed by temporary panic.

[sunflowerfields]

Hinawa senses the animal's fear, and gently removes her hand. "There, there. I didn't mean to frighten you! This is a very scary place at first, but I promise it's not all bad."

Her tone is definitely that of a mother speaking to a small child, because she has no idea what she's actually talking to.

Let's pretend the holidays didn't end me.

[control_freak]

Foster blinks, backs up just out of her range. And hesitates, studying her out of those massive brown cow's eyes.

This is a punishment, after all. It would be... inappropriate for him to solicit attention, wouldn't it? To solicit comfort from another? Obscene. And dishonest.

What would the Ring Master say? What would she do?

He actually loathes being touched--without permission, without warning. But some deeper instinct now craves it, leaving him conflicted and confused and wary and frustrated.

Moreso than ever, in fact.

A

[puddingemote]

Despite the fact that Tamaki works here and isn't supposed to get pulled into the various money traps of the carnival, he can't help but listen to what the guy is saying. Life is too short to live without regrets? He's pretty sure someone has told him something like that before. Maybe he should talk to this guy.

"Tickets for what?"

A

[waitingforplayer2]

Chiaki's sitting on the steps of another trailer nearby. (It might be hers. She just kind of sat down wherever.) She's mostly focused on playing her game console - after not having it out all day, she gets withdrawal, honestly, surely Psii knows that. But anyway, here she is playing, and this guy's over there... practicing? Probably.

"It's good." She says it quietly as she plays, trying not to focus too much on the actual content of the words he's saying, since they, uh... hit close to home.

[control_freak]

"If... uh... fuck." Foster isn't super paying attention, and the words process a few seconds after they're said. She's quiet--so quiet he almost didn't hear her anyway, to be honest, but now he's lost his train of thought entirely. "What?"

What's... oh, the game she's playing. Obviously.

He turns around to where she's sitting behind him, pausing for just a moment before leaning to peer in, upside-down, at what she's playing.

"....you came outside to play a video game you could have played indoors." He glances up at her--with his eyes only. "That's kind of weird, isn't it?"

[waitingforplayer2]

She was actually trying to comment on his skills, give him a compliment -- oops. But now strange half-naked man's in her face. She shifts back a little bit, understandably.

"I stayed outside." She doesn't really look at him, still focused on her game. "It's dark indoors."

She's never minded the dark. That's not actually the problem.

The real problem is that there's more people outside than inside.

[control_freak]

A compliment for him? That's either a very bad joke or she has no taste.

'It's dark indoors.' What kind of logic is that? Then turn on a light....? He stares down at her game, flatly.

His eyes shutter partially, his tone distant. Cool. Sharpened. "It must be nice to have such an excess of time that you feel free to waste it like that."

[waitingforplayer2]

It isn't hard to turn off a light at all, really. That's what she gets for avoiding the issue.

She feels her face heating up under his gaze. "It's not a waste."

a

[wild_magic]

Susan, on the other hand, is dressed for the job, even though it may look a little silly for a child to be doing a job like this. That doesn't stop him from doing a pretty good job of it, himself, although perhaps with a bit less of a... flair for words, and with a lot more outright enthusiasm. Still though, it isn't hard for him to notice a new person working nearby, and it doesn't take him long after that to end up wandering over to him instead of actually doing his job.

He smiles brightly at him when he gets closer.

"Hi! I'm Susan. Do you work here now?" It would be pretty cool, if that was the case, because he doesn't really have a lot of coworkers...

Re: a

[control_freak]

Foster never expects anyone to talk to him.

Or to put it another way.... he never expects anyone to talk him.

So it takes a second before he responds, a brief blink of surprise before eyeing Susan carefully with intent blue eyes. He's not a bit more reserved in his body language--more aloof than anything, pulled back just slightly from the younger boy.

But still smiling, all brightness, he asks:

"Isn't that a girl's name?"

[wild_magic]

Susan doesn't frown, per se, but his smile does drop a little at that. The other man is still smiling though so maybe he's just curious and not trying to be rude? It's okay though, it doesn't bother him either way...

He shakes his head a little.

"Well, I'm a boy, and it's my name, so I don't think it is."

[control_freak]

"...."

For a second, Foster almost buys it. There are names, after all--like Shelby--that used to be associated with one gender but are now associated with the other. But then he remembers that Susan B. Anthony was still a woman... no, that's definitely a girl's name.

"No. It's definitely a girl's name." But Foster is still smiling, yes--at this point, it may be a contest to see how long his own smile can disarm his indifference (or lack of awareness of) Susan's feelings. "Sorry!"

[wild_magic]

He finally frowns, and shakes his head again.

"No, it's my name, so it's definitely a boy's name now." It's not a big deal, honestly, but why does anyone else care about his name? It's his name and he likes it.

B

[dontpokethat]

Ginko is... pretty sure there didn't used to be a cow in this pen.

In fact, he's pretty sure they didn't used to have any regular cows at all, and he can't imagine why the Ringmaster would want one.

He pauses in mucking out the stalls to lean against the fencing to examine the cow. "So what's your deal, huh?"

[control_freak]

It's.... humiliating, to be a cow. To be an animal. Livestock. Cattle.

The Ring Master had made it very clear. This was a punishment. For his own disgraceful behaviour. His willful disobedience.

A public shaming... but also a secret one. He's still trying to decide how he feels.... how he's supposed to feel. Should he be honoured? Grateful that she graced him with her personal disapproval? Proud--and therefore deeply ashamed--that he was so terrible at following even simple instructions (even if he had a perfectly good reason, he thought--but that was just it, of course, his thinking was flawed, it was always flawed, he should have known--)

Maybe it's a good thing that all anyone sees while he goes over and over this, over and over and over... is a cow, standing emptily in a pen.

Ginko's arrival is... a distraction. Foster isn't expecting to be spoken to directly. Some people have mooed at him or whatever. It's annoying, but for the first time, he's not even expected to react to them. It's....

Well.

It's annoying. There's no really salvaging that.

He turns his heavy, drop-eared head to regard Ginko with large brown eyes, but says nothing.

.... hopefully Ginko isn't expecting anything else.

[dontpokethat]

He's really isn't expecting an answer, and after a moment he turns away to keep cleaning. But he does keep talking and glancing over at the cow every so often.

"Not like the Ringmaster to bring in just an ordinary cow. So far as I know, we're pretty much good on petting zoo animals, and you... don't seem friendly enough for that anyway. No offense. So there's got to be something about you that makes you notable, right?"

[control_freak]

The idea of having hands all over him--reaching for his face, his body, faces in his--evokes an immediate reaction in Foster, like he's been offered something deliberately offensive. It doesn't show, because cows don't have much in the way of facial elasticity. But even the suggestion of it is enough to fill him with a brief, aggressive feeling of revulsion.

One ear flicks. Then, with no apparent warning, he moves, advancing a few hoofsteps to stand at an diagonal to one corner, broad brown side turned oppositionally to Ginko.

He makes no sound. But if it's possible for a cow to give someone a dirty look...?

[dontpokethat]

Ginko frowns back at the cow before turning back to his work. "Hey, don't give me that. I just said you aren't going there - for this very reason, actually."

After a while, he finishes cleaning out that stall. Once its usual tenant is back inside, the time comes to move on to Foster's stall.

Ginko is not looking forward to this.

He considers the cow for a moment before stepping out of the stable for a moment. When he returns, it's with a bag of apple slices. He opens the stall door and takes one of the slices out of the bag, holding it out so the cow can smell it.

"Alright, c'mon out. Your turn."