all jobs is bad

[mossbuds]

Who: Lars and whoever! OPENNN
What: Rampant mundanity.
Where: Around the carnival; rides and food court specifically; then his own trailer!
When: Mid day, dusk, and early evening
Warnings: Lars's potty mouth.

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on shift; mid day
Lars leans back against the box that operates the ride he's stationed at—carefully, so as to not accidentally bump any knobs or whatever, but enough to take some pressure off his feet. He stares dully into the distance, feeling like his brain is going numb. And despite that, he still manages to look surly, his brows knit together.

This is only his second day on this job, as he'd racked up a handsome debt—one be was tempted to just bail on, because this carnival was clearly weird, sketchy supernatural bullshit. But it was clearly more fucked than he'd originally anticipated, so Lars was not eager to find out what would happen to him if he he didn't repay the debt (plus, the thought of home was too humiliating right now). He'd probably be cursed, he decided. People were freaky around this place—especially the other carnival workers, which he hadn't put a lot of thought into. Until today, really, during this long lull.

Groaning, Lars rolls his head wayyy back, his chin facing the sky as his posture melts backwards against the console, one of his feet slipping forward as he sinks—oblivious to any recent approachers, absorbed as he is in his own angst. Why did all this lame spooky crap always happen to him?

after work; dusk
Somehow, this job was even more boring than what he did at home. Even if he and his coworker in Beach City weren't always super talkative, even just having some company made it a little more bearable... Of course, sometimes they would flirt and goof off, which was also super helpful. Here, he couldn't even get any reception on his phone to pass the time—he would probably have to resort to reading a book like some kinda friggin' uncivilized caveman. Anyway, the drole of it all had Lars totally beat. He sits, hunched over one of the tables in the food court or the carnival, barely able to tuck his knees under it. He apathetically eats whatever garbage he'd purchased.

Once finished, he balls up the foil and greasy paper and tossed it blindly over his shoulder. This, of course, unfortunately bops your character on the head. Wrong place, wrong time.

at "home"; evening - closed to Kadin
With needlessly dramatic flourish, Lars throws open the door to their trailer. "Ugh!!"

Somewhat clumsily, Lars attempts to heel off his right hi-top sneaker. He stumbles, growls, and gains balance by flattening his palm against the wall near the door. "This place sucks!! Watchin' paint dry would be funner than takin' tickets, watchin' all those weirdos waddlin' around..."

Lars honestly doesn't even know if Kadin is home, when he enters; the yelling just kind of happens immediately. A natural reflex.

Comments

[dorkypantsuit]

Psiioniic's eyes narrow as he looks the boy over.

"What's your name?" he asks suddenly, tone still serious, uncharacteristically so.

[mossbuds]

"How's it that I work for you, but y'don't know my name?" Lars sasses, sneering as his hip kinda tilts to one side. It's true that he's being extra crabby, because like The Psiionic said, Lars is... well, pissed, and it's clearly making him work against his own favor. "It's Lars."

but i care about it

[dorkypantsuit]

"Lars." he says, while nodding, that's right. "Well, welcome to the family. I'm sure you'll do a good job here."

"On Alternia we have this saying, if you own the crap out of something you'll still pay for it someway. Try to remember that your actions have consequences."

lars's resume under special skills: needlessly making enemies

[mossbuds]

Lars makes a puzzled, bitchy face through that idiom, lifting a lip to expose his gum tops on one side.

"I'm already aware of that," Lars answers, gesturing to the carnival grandly—though his expression remains sour and dead pan. "I'm livin' that reality as we speak, candycorn. Lessons learned. I'm wiser every day." He flops back against the console table petulantly, crossing his arms again. "Anything else?"

not enemies yet!

[dorkypantsuit]

Candycorn? He smiles a bit, chuckling at the term.

"Yeah, if you need anything from me don't hesitate to ask!"

a miracle

[mossbuds]

Lars gets a look of disgust on his face, leaning back a little bit. It's almost like people bouncing back from his shitty attitude with kindness makes him uncomfortable—oh wait, that's because that's exactly what happens.

"Uh, yyyyeah," he says flatly. "Sure, right. And how would I do that?"

[dorkypantsuit]

"You have your radio right?" Psionic, asks, reaching for his own. He looks at it, flipping to a few different frequencies. "If you just ask for The Psiioniic on the public channel I'll probably hear it, but there a labor channel too and I have a private frequency as well."

He shows them to Lars, just in case he doesn't have that information.

"I can fly," he remarks, wings buzzing briefly behind him. "So I can usually get places pretty quick."

[mossbuds]

"Great," Lars responds, eyes stuck on the Psiionic's wings. Gross... Kinda cool, but gross. "I guess I'll let you know if my shitty pilot light goes out or somethin'."

As if Lars cooks. Ha ha.

He grabs his radio from where it's hooked on his belt loop, and squints at it, "Guess I should prolly play around with this thing—get to know it a lil better."

[dorkypantsuit]

Pilot light? What the hell was that? Was it supposed to be a helmsman joke? Psi'd never heard that one before. He looks confused, but blusters on irregardless.

"Yeah, the radio's are pretty important. It's basically your connection to everyone else in the carnival. Like a social network site, but minus the boring parts.

[mossbuds]

"A fancy walky talky is way more boring than social network sites," Lars gripes sorely, his brow furrowing as his posture slackens. "Anyway, yeah, I got it. If I forget your name, I'll radio in 'four-horned gray bug dude' if I ever want to repeat this experience."

[dorkypantsuit]

Psi laughs, shaking his head in amused disbelief.

"Good." The other people would probably know who he meant if that was the case, after all, he was the only person at the carnival with horns this amazing.

"Don't forget, sell it!" But his wings are already buzzing behind him if he moves back for take-off. He'll probably check on Lars later on during the day. If he still seems to be slacking he'll worry about it then.

"See ya Larry!"