2019-05-24 - Festival In the Park

Like moths to shiny, shiny flames sometimes. Emily watches the tail-end of one of those little scenes, tucked on a small stretch of grass. It's just a snippet from A Midsummer Night's Dream (guys, get used to the Shakespeare crap; I'm doing this all weekend), with kids all clustered on the grass, clapping and enjoying the costumes and the language they don't understand, eating sugary garbage. She puts her hands together briefly, like a good little spectator, and watches the troupe bow and cavort their way "offstage," taking all their super-Glimmery shine with them. The only one that lingers is some perfectly mundane guy making balloon animals for the captive audience of kids (at five bucks a pop, mom-and-dad). She hangs around, 'cause who doesn't want a balloon elephant, given the opportunity?

It felt...different. Being back in Gray Harbor. Apparently Chole picked a hell of a week to come back, with this festival going on. When in Rome, and what have you. So she dug out some clothes from one of her many boxes still to unpack and headed out. She wore a light blue, cold shoulder top that exposed her midrif and a flowy, dark brown, skirt with little blue and pink flowers on it. A few sections of hair had little beaded braids running through it. Not quite shakespearean, but hey at least she was comfortable. Her gaze flitted from the troupe, to the crowd, taking in the appearance of the shine, seeing if she could spot others with the Glimmer all the while hoping not to draw too much attention to herself with her own. As the troupe exits the stage, Chloe starts to wander a bit again, seeing what else the festival has in store.

A way to get to know people was to cavort with the locals and what better excuse to spend time in the park than a sunny day with Shakespeare in the Park. Applauding when others do, Sally shows her appreciation as the troupe leave the stage, then she meanders over for some random food on offer for the spendy prices. A roasted corn on the cob is purchased along with a lemonade and she turns to crowd watch some as she eats.

Who doesn't love a festival? Not Aidan, partly because festivals are awesome, and partly because festivals mean a whole lot of gathered people looking for entertainment, and that means groceries. So he's been wandering around doing his little magic shows between some of the scenes, and possibly during a couple over near the stalls. He's got a few sets, but he's done them all and the crowd hasn't turned over enough for his taste yet. Plus he's got a pocket full of cash (in coins and small bills, but hey, cash), a soda, and a corndog, so it's break time. Possibly he has an appointment, too, the way he keeps glancing around now and then as he wanders the booths, or else he's just people watching.

He's definitely also being people-watched, having decided today to forgo the tailcoat and instead wear a thigh-length red corduroy coat fringed with fluffy red feather trim over a knee-length pleated blackwatch plaid skirt (call it a kilt if you like, but it's probably never seen a Scot) and a black t-shirt with the superman logo on it in gold. Black Docs, short black socks, and no, he does not shave his legs. Oh, and his top hat, maybe because he's out of hands, and maybe just because. His little wooden fold-up magic table is hanging over his shoulder on its strap, like a really large wood-shop-lookin' satchel of some kind. He takes a bite of his corndog, gives it a slightly uncertain look as he chews, shrugs, and takes another bite.

The Bard. It'd probably be very anti-British of her if she didn't actually show up to see how things go, or it's a small enough town that a roaming theater troupe and a festival in the park is interesting enough to drag Baylee out to come see who is around. She's loitering near the stage, until the little act is done and then she's off through the crowds, finding herself a sweet pair of new moccasins that she probably could have gotten on Etsy if she tried. But that means that while Aidan is busy looking one way she can 'sneak' up behind him to try and steal a bite of the corndog that he's got in his hand.

"Okay, a hat then." That's how Emily winds up with a rainbow-hat made out of balloons on her head. It's not as fashionable as a top-hat, but it totally works with the T-shirt-and-jeans look that she's rocking, though it leaves her holding the thing down on top of her head every time a tiny breeze wants to ruffle through the park - which breezes like to do in late May. She loses her new hat pretty quickly, and it goes sailing across the lawn... passes Sally in line for food... and she's almost caught it by the time the thing looks to be chasing after Chloe. "Can you - don't let it get away," she requests - and then just takes matters into her own hands. Er. Brains. The stupid hat chaaaaanges course, and comes rolling back her way; normal people choose to blame this on the breeze, but all y'all can be free to realize that Emily's just being cavalier with her abilities out here, using them to catch a balloon-hat.

Only after the hat has passed does Sally realize that someone was chasing it. So, feeling sort of obligated, in every good way possible, she breaks out of line to go chasing it too only to have it pass her on the way back. Well that was terribly odd and she turns, dumbfounded, to watch as it skitters past her back towards the owner. So chalk it up to odd, she approaches Emilie, closing the distance. "That was the most ideal ending I could imagine. I was sure the grass or something in it would damage the baloons."

Chloe has been minding her own business mostly. Eyeing some of the vendor stalls, eyeing some of the costumes. Namely some very elizebeathan costumes, the man in the kilt and...top hot? Then her attention shifted when she spied a very colorful rainbow floating towards her. Gaze sliding as she watches it change direction and float right back towards Emily. Then a smile blossoms on to her face and she turns direction to walk over towards her, and Sally who had come to try and aid the other woman. "Why am I not surprised you're walking around with a balloon hat?" She asked Emily with a grin. "Some things never change, hm?"

You know who's taking a casual amble through the park and hasn't lost their balloon hat? Carver. Mostly because he didn't have one to begin with. There's totally a facsimile of an elephant in blue and white tucked under the arm of his coat, though. Speaking of that coat, the mustard stain that slides down his lapel would suggest that he's also seen free to avail himself of the local concessions. Corn dogs. Corn dogs for days.

No joke, there are four now-empty sticks tucked between the fingers of a hand as he steers well clear of balloon shenanigans and local acquaintances, looking for all the world like the words of the Bard give him an instant migraine.

Aidan is distracted by some kind of shiny dangly thing at a booth, trying to decide whether it's meant to be a windchime or just a mobile or what, so he doesn't catch on to Baylee's nefarious plans. Not until she's already eating his lunch. There's a quick turn, almost losing his own hat. "Hey--" oh, of course. "That is my personal corndog. What if I starve now?" She gets a bright grin, then, and he takes a sip of his drink, pointing the corndog toward her to offer another bite. It's not, in fact, a very good corndog. The dog's been overcooked. Corn's not bad, though. "You owe me a food now. Also a k--" He breaks off, looking in the direction of Emily and her physics-defying hat for a second, then the others with her, and then catching Carver. ...good elephant.

"I might have burst into tears if it popped." Emily makes a face at Sally while she pulls her stylish new accessory down on her head stubbornly. "Thanks," she tacks on a second later, quirking a wry smile at Sally. "You own the - whoa." Her thoughts get derailed, and she feels back, rocking on her heels like she has a physical reaction to seeing Chloe in front of her. "Are you...? Wow. Hi." Flabbergasted Emily holds her hat down with one hand at hawks at Chloe, socially graceless.

A flash of a smile is given to Chloe as she approaches for much the same reason she had, and Sally looks between Emily and her. Then there's Carver with the mustard stain. "Hi," she offers tentatively between those within hearing distance. "That was a nice way to defy gravity. The hat missed you, I guess." Loosely, she laces her fingers together at the small of her back. "I'm Sally, kinda new to town, but I'm working on opening a restaurant. Soon." Basically spoken to anyone who listens.

"Don't worry, I'll buy you proper food." Because that corndog is anything but proper. Baylee shakes her head at the offer of a second bite, hand waving to accompany the rejection. Instead she reaches for the soda to erase the taste before she realizes that Aidan has gotten distracted, and she twists herself around to see what it is that has him so distracted. "Huh." That's all that she says before she reaches into the front pocket of her shirt, pulling out a pack of cigarettes before pausing to look around for any signs that say 'despite being out doors, no smoking'.

Chloe couldn't help a giggle at Emily's reaction and then pulled the woman in for a quick hug. "In the flesh. Though, I'm certainly surprised to see you still hanging around." Maybe, or not. "It's good to see you Em." Then the woman was released and Sally was offered an easy smile, extending a hand. "Nice to meet you Sally. Dr. Chloe Rose." Almost without thinking about it. "But, Chloe is perfectly fine." She tacked on quickly.

Some snide soccer mom will almost definitely make passive aggressive coughing noises at Baylee, but no signs!

Emily is not a soccer mom... and she's not the world's best hugger - sort of stiff in that gesture (some things do change!) - but she doesn't cold-clock Chloe or anything. "Wait, what? You're a doctor? Like... PhD?" She'll do a little surprised blinking before thinking to add, "Oh. Yeah. Hi. I'm Emily." For Sally's benefit. Sorry, she's coping with surprise here.

"Nice to meet you too," Sally shakes the offered hand and smiles warmly. "Please do call me Sally also." Turning the smile to Emily, "A pleasure meeting you as well, Emily. I won't interrupt your reunion or anything. Just wanted to make sure you got your hat back. It's a cute hat." Stepping back a little bit so as not to interrupt

That is a knot of some shiny... shininess going on over there. Not that it's that unusual around here, but these ones Aidan hasn't seen around yet. "Huh," he agrees as he looks back to Baylee, who has been entirely successful in borrowing some of the soda to cleanse her mouth. It's Coke. They didn't figure out a way to mess that up. "Anyway, proper food. Gonna hold you to that," he says, taking a step to fall in beside her rather than across, and give her an affectionate shoulder-to-shoulder nudge. Well, upper arm to shoulder, at least. "Found anything interesting? And how're the actual shows? Thought I might check out the next one," he says, and takes another bite of his thoroughly improper corndog. It slightly muffles the, "Also I want a balloon animal. Or hat. Or balloon animal for my hat."

Which is why the hug was quick! And Chloe is appreciative to not get cold-clocked. She gave a sheepish sort of nod to Emily. "Just finished like...a year ago. Decided maybe it was time to come back home and start something a little different." She looked towards Sally with another smile. "You're not an intrusion or anything." Assuring the woman. "What sort of restaurant are you opening?"

In this short amount of time, Carver's lost his elephant. A small, slightly bewildered child has gained an elephant. Never let it be said the man doesn't have a soul. Do you know what he does have? Another corndog. Possibly pulled out of his coat. That'll be five sticks, when all is said and done, the man chewing at the bad dog with passable corn with an expression that approaches something resembling satisfaction. If you squint. Real hard. Let's be fair, the guy does outsider pretty well, what with the lingering on the outskirts he's oh so very good at.

Coughing noises are ignorable. Baylee tucks a cigarette into her mouth when no signs appear, lighting it before she slides everything back into her pocket, "I got these." These being the shoes she purchased, and she pulls them out from under her arm to display them rather proudly for Aidan, "I thought that I'd maybe wear them as house shoes, but then maybe not." She doesn't care much about that, instead her attention shifts to the top of Aidan's head, "Not sure that'll go with the skirt." But who is she to judge? Maybe a balloon hat with an animal will be perfect with his skirt. "But, lets walk." She notices the man with the soon to be five corndog sticks, "Maybe he found the better corndog stand."

Sally hadn't gone far, just enough to give the women a moment of privacy in their reunion. "It sounds like you've not seen much of each other in quite some time. Are there always little events in the park like this? I find this town so charming I decided to stay. I'm opening the Firehouse Burgers and BBQ downtown in the old fire station." A smile to Emily, "I hope you both come once we're opened. I'd love to get to know the townspeople." Catching sight of some others, she gives a tentative wave.

"Like. In what? I mean, what kind of doctor are you?" Emily eyes Chloe up and down from beneath her awesome balloon hat (people best not be hating!), like she could visually ascertain this woman's job. She can't, so the question hangs there. With Sally starting to detach herself, Emily realizes the level of uncool she's being and, from somewhere, dredges up a smile that's a little more socially correct. "No, sorry. You're fine. I just - yeah." She waits to hear what kind of restaurant is in the works, and even contributes, "At least it's not Chinese food." Also, she totally notices Aidan over there looking. And looks right back; she is a confrontational person, so her look is also confrontational, with the challenging brow-lift: are they going to have to fite?!

"General Practice. I couldn't decide exactly what I wanted to do - so I studied a little of everything." Chloe mused. "I'm still looking into specialties, but I was ready to finish out and just start working on my own." A subtle shrug and then she was listening to Sally. "That sounds pretty neat! I haven't had decent barbecue in forever. Can't wait to try it when it opens." Then she looked towards Emily. "What've you been up to since school?" Quirking a brow to briefly look where she was looking -which was Aiden - and then back to Emily.

Striding across the park is what Emily's been up to since school - lol jk, it's just Logan, looking less-than-amused at the balloon twister that's following him in an attempt to get him to buy a rose. Or maybe a horse? Or maybe a dog?! "No, I said no, thanks though. I don't have any cash on me," he grumbles, about this close to telling this dude to fuck off. This is why he doesn't go outside.

Aidan is not a particularly confrontational person. So there's a quick blink at the fite-me quality of that look, which usually does not come toward him from small ginger women, and then he gives Emily a bright and apparently genuine grin, waving his mostly-eaten corndog at her in greeting. "Pretty sure balloon animals go with everything," Aidan replies to Baylee as he does, "I'll get a red one, it'll coordinate." He takes the last bite of the dog as she points out Carver, and this time Aidan notices the sticks. "Maybe we should ask," he says as they start walking, and drops the now-empty one into a trashcan as they pass, "...and those are pretty good. Why only in the house though?"

Carver absolutely, positively did not find the better corn dog stand. "Christ. These taste like sawdust." he half-mumbles, half-complains to nobody in particular, taking a moment to swap hands holding the sticks so he can very purposefully suck some trash-food residue from the pads of his fingers before bringing what 1/4 of a corndog remains on that final stick up in front of his face, voice dropping to a low whisper as he asks "So why can't I quit you?"

And then, in a cinematography technique for the ages, his corndog goes out of focus to show the detail of Aidan and Baylee noticing him. "Oh God."

"Are you going to practice in town? I'm going to be looking at insurance plans for my employees and haven't yet decided on a physician. Maybe we can get together if you're interested? Talk about things?" General Practice is really all she needed for that. "I look forward to cooking again. It's been a bit since I've been in a restaurant for anything but eating. And I love eating."

That wave over there doesn't improve the quality of Emily's look - unless narrowing her eyes and taking a half-step over there like she's about to make good on that silent offer of fisticuffs is an improvement in Aidan's book? Guessing no. Fortunately! Before she goes tearing off to punch people who haven't done anything to her specifically to deserve it, Chloe says something and she blinks again. "Oh, you're an actual doctor? Wow. Well. That's an actual accomplishment." After Sally's businessy questions, "Or are you just here for this?" Festival, she means, indicating it with a lift of her hand. The possibility of her totally failing to notice that dude she lives with is slim, even in a crowded park - it's handy when people you know are all shiny! - and she tracks Logan's progress away from the balloon guy with her eyes, answering with the tl;dr of the last nine years, "I'm a teacher. At T.H.S."

"Not sure. Seemed approp...what'd you do to her?" Baylee can't even finish the one thought for the other as she notices Emily's stare in Aidan's direction, but when he starts walking she follows, which seems reasonable since it was her idea to begin with. But she can't stop looking at Emily, like she's trying to piece together all the answers of the universe. No answers are forthcoming, so instead her attention swings towards Carver, "Oy!"

"Jesus, fine! Fucking Christ," somebody should really tell Logan not to curse around the little children. Nearby, a mother claps her hands over her 5 year old's ears, gasps, and glares angry looks at Logan. There's probably at least a couple of people shaking their heads and muttering about how this park was a nicer place when Logan was still a hermit. But he skids in his tracks and whips out his wallet, shoving a crisp fiver that he claimed not to have in the balloon-dude's pocket. "I'll take a sword." With which to stab you, is what his tone says.

Logan gets a poodle hat. And the man goes on his way.

"Well, I'm doing more of private, house calls sort of arrangement. But I do have a little clinic I'm working on setting up." Chloe offered to Sally. "I'd be happy to at least talk about it. Maybe help you go over some options." Then she laughed softly at Emily's response. "I...guess it is. Thank you." She pushed back a few stray strands of hair. "A teacher? That's pretty great! I don't have the patience for teaching. What subject?" Another quirk of her brow. Then a cellphone started ringing and Chloe sighed, reaching right into her top to pull it out - maybe it was hiding in her bra or something. "Sorry, I gotta take this. That's the downside - even on an off day, people are still calling out." From like 5 states away like she would be able to do something. Then took a few steps away to take the call.

Maybe it's because Emily's kind of wee, or maybe people apparently-randomly deciding Aidan needs punching isn't entirely unheard of, but either way he looks more resigned than anything else at that glaring half-step. "I don't know! Maybe she doesn't like plaid," he says, "Or she's with the society for the prevention of cruelty to... whatever bird they get feather fluff off of?" He looks at her more sidelong as they walk, taking a sip of his soda and somehow not getting said fluff in his mouth in the process. Practice, probably. His glance slides away and over other people while they stroll, and he's just not entirely subtly pointed toward Logan and commented, "Poodle hat," to Baylee before she calls out to Carver. So that's who gets the grin next.

When an oddly familiar nostalgia washes over Carver from someone yelling 'Oy' at him, the man shoves the rest of the corn dog into his mouth without fanfare or ceremony, adding the now empty stick to his collection and doing what he can to brush off his hands. And giving the all-too-natural response of "Wot?" that draws every single strand of his accent he can muster into a single syllable. He's got the facial expression you'd expect of someone being yelled at by one person, and grinned at by another. Hungover weariness.

Emily watches the cell phone interrupt the conversation, blinking slowly at the thing like she can't fathom how it could be so rude - but then she gets hers out a second later, because numbers are exchanged - and there are appropriate 'see you later' noises made at the departing doctor. "I don't have the patience for people bugging the shit out of me in the middle of a conversation," she mumbles once Chloe is gone, flicking a look at Sally. "So. Barbecue." Small-talk is obviously not her forte. Her head-tip indicates that maybe she and Sally wanna walk-and-talk? 'Cause there's a lot of byplay, what with her having to notice Baylee staring back, and keep track of Logan. It's too much. All while holding on her awesome rainbow-balloon-hat. "Do you have a booth around here or something? Because I think - anything other than corn dogs would probably sell like," frown, this metaphor is terrible, she realizes, "hot cakes."

Sally responds to Chloe and takes the offered number before sliding it into the back pocket of her jeans. "Thank you, Chloe, I'll talk to you soon." A kind smile is given to Emily, but it is brief. "I wish I had thought to make a booth, sort of get the word out, but I'm too late for that. Maybe next time. I was just about to go get some corn on the cob. The corn dogs look a little dried out. I'm sure I'll see you again before I leave though. Or I could bring you an ear of the corn back? It's roasted, smells really good."

Logan catches Aidan's look his way, and his gaze tightens just a bit. Poodle hat, indeed. "I wanted a fucking pirate sword," he grumps, staring down at this twisted mess of pink and purple balloons before he heads to the nearest trash can. But before he has a chance to throw his $5 prize away, he spots Emily. The poodle hat is saved, but he absolutely does not wear it yet, and instead starts that way. "What the fuck is on your head?" he asks, it's his very polite way of saying hello.

"Poodle?" Baylee has evidently the attention and focus of a small, adorable kitten today, because it keeps bouncing around. But then she remembers their purpose in approaching Carver and she points towards the corndog in Aidan's hand, "This one is bollocks, but you've had a few it seems...did you find a better seller somewhere in this place?" Thankfully for Emily she's no longer staring at her.

Man, no one around here reacts well to friendly, it's like baby NYC or something. Aidan continues going with it anyway, agreeing toward Logan, "Yeah, that'd probably've been better." See, someone sympathises with Logan's terrible plight! In passing, anyway. He waits until they're close enough to Carver that he doesn't have to raise his voice too far to address him, and when he does, it's to say, "Hey," and then point his free hand toward him, inquiring with probably soon-to-be-dashed hope, "And if so, where're they hiding it? 'cause yeah, this one-- well, that one," a gesture to where the stick got trashed along the way when Baylee was distracted, "did not make me wanna eat four more."

Emily thinks about it. The corn that Sally is offering to get her. Manners suggest she should demure, but manners are stupid; "Okay. I'm gonna walk, though." She points that way, so maybe Sally will be able to find her in this balloon-animal crowd and maybe she won't. There's no waiting around to find out. She said she's going to walk, so she walks. Which means she's a little more 'over here' when Logan and Aidan are having their chat about pirate swords, and she just points at the hat on her head to answer the very polite way of saying hello; that and the 'your question is stupid' look she wears will have to suffice as an answer. "What the fuck are you doing out of the house? It's not Tuesday." Also, "Why do you know these people?" These people, Aidan and Baylee (and now Carver, too).

"Not even slightly, pets." Caver takes the sudden questioning in stride, then raises up the sticks in his hand, spreading them out a little like he's about to show off a card trick. "Terrible. Bloody Terrible. Not bad. Like Sawdust. Like Sawdust and Raccoon fur. " He lists, touching a finger to the top of each stick in turn, watching the two questioners with a little quirk in the brow of appraisal. At least he's not shielding his eyes. That means the pills are working. "I'm just stubborn and accept I'll never find a decent kebab."

It's not Tuesday?! "Fuck, I got the days wrong again. Or are you fucking with the calendar again?" Logan fixes Emily and her rainbow hat with a look that becomes all the more pronounced with the climb of his eyebrow, before he folds his arms around his chest. The poodle hat now sticks out from under his arm, pink-and-purple against his otherwise drab gray UW Seattle t-shirt. He shifts a foot to fall in line beside Emily, following her gaze to Aidan and Baylee and Carver too. Now both brows go up. "I don't know these people." Also, to Carver: "It's not raccoon. It's cat. They're made from cat."

"Fuck." Baylee is not safe for the ears of children. Nor is the area around her safe for breathing, because she really did have a cigarette and has only marginally forgotten it. It is brought up for a drag, and she glances in Emily and Logan's direction, staring for just a fraction before she reaches over to give Aidan's arm a squeeze, "Sec....you two, figure out the corncat situation." Then she's stepping towards Emily, not having forgotten the glare at Aidan, oh no.

Yup! Hopes dashed. Aidan looks disappointed for a good couple seconds there, but the enumeration of just how awful each one was brightens him back up. You wanted bright, right? "So sorta marginal 20% hit rate, I guess." A pause. "...no, one in six," he's not doing that math right now, thanks, "'cause mine was Like Sawdust Soaked In Meat Juice." Wherever that ranks, it's below Not Bad. He gives Baylee both a casual salute and a quick, smaller smile as she steps away, watching briefly before he looks back to Carver. Now he's not outnumbered by Brits, not that he'd seemed bothered when he was. "Well... I saw some plain hotdogs that might be better. And you have sticks. Did you see anywhere that had cornbread?" Is he proposing food court DIY? Probably.

Emily looks somewhere else while she answers the calendar question, not shifty at all. "I don't do that anymore." By which she means: she absolutely does. Plus, she looks at the balloon poodle Logan is carting around while he's talking about cats and raccoons and frowns. "That's a poodle," idiot. Here comes Baylee, and she stops walking (were they walking? it seems like they were walking) to turn toward her with a look that could be interpreted as 'yes, hi?' but also as 'wtf do you want!!!1111!!,' again with the brow-lift and now with the arms folded. Er, one arm folded; she has to keep lifting the other one to hold her hat on her head. "Are you the guest that stole the batteries out of all the remotes? 'Cause that's fucked up." So 'wtf do you want' would have been the correct read there.

Carver's eyes flicker a little before widening, Aidan's suggestion hitting his ears like some kind of chorus song from on high. In fact, his head even turns aside quickly to make sure he's not hearing the troupe starting up some midsomer night's musical just to be sure. "You, new friend, are a legend. I didn't see any cornbread, but I figure if I can keep one of those stall-owners talking, you could probably take a bag." Shit, Aidan. Why'd you have to go give him an idea. That's a terrible... idea. "I think your friend's gonna provide us a distraction, anyway." A quick head tilt goes to Baylee. And Emily. And whatever's coming.

Sally walks over to the line and its a fairly long one. Apparently word of the corn dogs had gotten out and people were starting to avoid that particular food truck. She does take a moment to glance around for that now familiar rainbow balloon hat, trying to keep tabs, people watching as she does. A smile plays over her features, confident in her choice to remain in town. And she moves up four places as orders are fulfilled.

"I swear to God if you fucked with the calendar and it's Wednesday.." something something mumbled under the breath about keeping her in the basement until Sunday. Logan shifts awkwardly in his walking step as Baylee makes a beeline towards them, and it takes a second for him to recognize who she is. Emily's comment on the remote controls is a great help though. "You shouldn't accuse former guests of stealing," he says to Emily, but it's very REMOTELY critical, as he reaches to fit his poodle hat atop his head. "Besides, I think she's the one that took all the fucking ketchup bottles."

Terrible, brilliant, there's such a fine line between them isn't there? (No.) Aidan looks decidedly pleased with their terribly brilliant (those might be in the wrong order) plan, and nods, though the look he gives toward Baylee and Emily over s sip of his Coke isn't entirely sanguine. Still, they're only talking, and she's a PI, right? "I probably can," he agrees, grinning at Carver again, "though, you might have to hold my drink." He offers it. "Wanna go investigate? Also, hi, I'm Aidan."

"No." Baylee states, both for the batteries question, and the ketchup bottles comment. "I puked in the bushes." They have bushes, right? If not, whoops whoever else's house that was. "I'm wondering what problem you have with my friend?" Does she even need to specify what friend she means? Maybe Carver, but probably Aidan since Emily was glaring at him.

You ask Carver, there's no line between brilliant or terrible at all. And people have asked him. Sometimes he even replies by proving it. Alas, this isn't Aidan's lucky day for that part. "It's cornbread, mate. If crows can steal it, you can." he replies, taking the offered drink with a nod, the slow smile that begins to creep across his expression being one that usually appears when shenanigans are afoot. "Hi, Aidan. Alistair. Although I think we should go for codenames. In case we're rumbled."

No one tell Logan that it's Friday, please.

Hot on the heels of the ketchup accusation, the question, "Did you steal all our fucking ketchup?" is tumbling out of Emily's mouth. Oh, she puked in the bushes? "Classy." Yes, she's a hypocrite that's been dropping F-bombs like Germany did to London in the '40s, so what! "Cool. I'm wondering what problem I have with him, too. Is he gonna come ask me or...? Is he mentally disabled or something? Is that what's up with the top hat?" While she holds down her balloon hat next to her 'friend' in his balloon hat.

"Ahh, right," Logan bobs his head in a slow nod while keeping one hand atop his poodle hat, because boy was it windy. Can't let the poodle go flying off into next century or something! Emily says 'classy', which Logan agrees with too, though he adds in a stage whisper with an elbow to Emily's side: "I think she was the addict." As though it is a dirty word. As though he has any room to judge 😕 But it's a whisper, you guys, so he plasters on a friendly smile. "Sorry, my sister-in-law's got a way with words, don't you, sweetheart?" Aww, look at those hearts he has in his eyes for Emily.

Aidan tilts his head slightly at 'Alistair'. Don't run into a lot of them 'round these parts. "What, like," that part probably sounds familiar, "that dude who hosts the really old Masterpiece Theatre reruns?" He pauses to pull up the surname. "Cooke. What kind of codenames are you thinking? Because something like, I dunno, Opalescent Kumquat would be more fun, but they're probably more likely to believe, like... Eli. If we're rumbled." If. But this is surely going to go totally smoothly. "I could do Eli." He's already heading toward the food court area, though it's at a saunter, and there's still the occasional quick glance to check on Baylee.

"Sure, like 'that dude who hosts the really old Masterpiece Theatre reruns.'" Carver agrees. Instantly, in fact. It's a pretty good shout that he's got zero real clue on that one, but at least Aidan didn't go for the other famous namesake that he happens to share initials with. "Eli works." More agreement, even a nod. His thumbs tuck into the pockets of his jacket in an old familiar comfort, joining in on the saunter without hesitation, but without the glance towards anyone else. Hey, the man can have focus when he needs it. "I'll be... Ignatious Widdlecombe."

With the accent? He might even pull it off.

There was thinking, and counting, and really, really she was actually trying to not skip right from talking to more violent responses. Maybe it's the addict comment, or the insult to her friend. Or maybe, just maybe Baylee is just bored and Emily is offering the best entertainment she's had all day. Because she escalates the shit out of this situation. With a swing. For Emily's face. Or...maybe not her face. But that was probably the goal. That nose.

There's a long, irritated exhale from Emily about the addict, and she gives Logan one of those patented looks she's been throwing around. "We really need rules for - ow!" When she gets punched in the nose, which doesn't break or anything, but a trickle of blood starts out of one nostril. And she does what any red-blooded American does: she grabs this British bitch by the hair with one hand and punches her right back in the face with the other one, a slightly better sock in the nose than the one she just took. Bye, balloon hat~ She loved you~ It goes rolling across the lawn.

Like, thirty people GASP in unison. Not about the balloon hat, but about how they can't have nice things in this town because of people like this!

After purchasing two corn on the cobs, Sally starts searching all over for Emily but it doesn't take long for that rainbow hat to be seen. Bobbing and weaving her way through the cluster of people, she finally manages to get near enough and then rapidly scoots back out of fist range. Shoving the corn on the cob towards Logan, Sally meanders off at a brisk pace, going back to the sanity of her own private space.

"Whoa, hello crazy," again, Logan, with the take-one-to-know-one name-calling over here. His eyes go wide as Baylee connects with Emily's nose, and he really probably should've held Emily back from wailing on this girl. But goodness, look at that rainbow hat fly, it explains his lollygagging long enough to give Emily ample opportunity to punch Baylee right back before he's getting in the middle of the two of them. "Hey, okay, there's like kids around and shit," not that he cared before. There may be even a few more hearts in his eyes for Emily <3.

"Oh, we're doing surnames? Okay, Eli Stephanopoulos," Aidan says, without even a pause to think about it. Is his ancestry actually Greek? He could maybe be Greek. Sure, they can pull those identities off. He's enjoying this festival even more than he expected to!

He is until he catches things going to shit over there, anyway. "Aw, fuck," he groans, "Hold that thought," and he's heading toward Baylee and Emily at rather more than a saunter now, giving Logan a look as he goes. The sort of look that says 'you're a lot closer, please also be of a stopping this mind'. Two fighters, two people who can possibly get away with grabbing one of them. You know. Hope. It's even raised a bit by the getting-in-the-middle.

"I couldn't say that even if I was sober." Is how Carver deals with the surname thrown his way, his eyes turning towards the ruckus starting up a second before Aidan's attention is drawn the same way. His response the the whole kerfuffle? Rummaging around his pockets for a pack of smokes, for one. He finds, taps one out and lights it only after he's also pulled out what appear to be two new potatoes and an entire cluster-fuck of used gum wrappers that could be used as chaff if he really needed to. At least he looks pretty satisfied with himself. Or the cigarette. Or both. Eitherway, he's happy to watch.

"Sonuva...." Baylee should know that when you hit someone, they often hit back. But not always. Just luck of the draw this time that Emily hits back. Of course, she's not stopping, there might be a Logan suddenly in the way but she isn't backing down! No. She's trying to grab for Emily, but it might all be for show because she's not trying that hard. Little kids and all? Maybe. It's half-hearted at best. Maybe the bloody, possibly broken, nose is distracting. Whatever.

"Don't you - !" Oh. Emily sorta realizes Logan wasn't calling her crazy, so he doesn't also get punched. That's good! But she's still all FITEY, even with this dude trying to get in between them - which, btw, she is very clearly not listening to him and his voice of reason, he should just stay in the kitchen where he belongs - so she snatches the corn-on-the-cob that Sally just dropped off out of his hands. He obviously took it. And she holds it back like she's about to swing it at Baylee, but instead she... throws it.

At least, the mundane onlookers assume she throws it. Everyone else should know: Emily just psychics that thing right at Baylee's face. It's not her best effort, so it probably hits more like the chest area, but still.

"I said fucking back off," Logan is absolutely not snapping at Emily, he's got his frosty blue eyes right on Baylee. Really, the corn trick thing should be hilarious, considering it bounces off Baylee's boobs right at the same time that Logan's telling Baylee to back off? But Logan's too pissed in the moment to even get a chuckle at that. He puts himself fully in between Baylee and Emily, though it's in a clear 'imma protect my own' sort of way. "You don't go around fucking smacking people in the goddamn nose for no goddamn reason. Maybe you need to go take a fucking time out, you goddamn child."

And then Baylee's pack of cigarettes in her front pocket spontaneously combusts. To the normal lookie-loos, they'll probably be telling their kids later that this is why you don't fucking smoke, kids.

Aidan's looking mostly worried, slightly hopeful, and a little frustrated as he heads over about as fast as he can without dropping the table-tote-thing and sprinting, with a faint wince when punches land -- and then that corn cob leaves Emily's hand, and then, funny thing, he's pissed too. It seems weird on him, that sudden flare of fury, and at the actual flare? It finds itself a new level of angry to settle at. He started proper running at the corn, letting the table drop with a worrying sort of sound on its impact, so when there's fire, he's pretty much right there, getting between them as well. Shame he doesn't have that drink anymore; maybe he doesn't have a lot of sense right now, either, since he slides a hand under he undershirt beneath the cigarettes and one over the leather of her jacket and claps them together, either hoping to smother it or to get it off of her before it's actually burning her. At the least it makes a good cover for what actually happens. Fair chance it still burns his hand first; he does wince and hiss.

In the moment he's fairly sure Baylee's clothes aren't going on, his attention snaps to Logan and Emily, and at least the way his eyes are burning isn't literal. "Do not," he says, low and precise and vehement, "Do. NOT. Everyone fucking time out and back off. And I will not set your fucking hair on fire, because I don't. Do that. Unless people are trying to fucking kill me. Or mine."

He's lost his hat, too. At least it's harder to blow away than balloons.

Carver? Carver just watches. There's a brief mutter of "Oof. Party foul." When something in Baylee's pocket ignites, but other than that? He just watches, smokes his cigarette contentedly, and starts sipping from the drink that was handed to him a few moments before.

"Shut up, I was not like that at their age." he mumbles to nobody in particular. Like you do.

"And I said fu..." First, Baylee never said that. Second, she doesn't even say it now because there is food being thrown at her and shit is catching on fire. Which is a whole lot more panic inducing than anything else that has happened today. She's starting to do that wild, flailing thing where someone freaks out because something in their clothes is offense. Like a spider. Or a pocket full of fire. Then Aidan is there to save the day with the fire, and Baylee's right back to flinging insults when she might have been willing to let it go before, "You fucking assholes! Fuck you, you ginger haired cunt!" Poor Emily. "And your pikey motherfucking boyfriend!"

"I will stab you in the fucking face!" Emily tells Aidan this with careless volume, which is proooobably why people decide the local cop should be alerted to what exactly is going on over here. It could also be the bit about 'cunt' and 'motherfucking boyfriend.' Or just the fisticuffs in general. They must have attracted a good crowd by now, so it's going to take Chetson (that's the cop's name; Chetson) a minute to push his way through.

Suggestion? Everyone should disperse. Like. Promptly. Unless you want to talk to Chetson.

Emily absolutely plans to, though not without giving all of everyone (even Logan) the finger. She wipes her nose with the side of her hand and starts pushing through the crowd on the other side of where Chetson is. Unfortunately for her... everyone in town knows this crazy bitch, so she's probably going to wind up having to answer questions later on about why she assaulted someone in the park. 🙁 "I'm absolutely gonna stab them in their faces," she'll tell Logan, like, forty times on the two minute walk from the park to the house where she's supposed to be locked in the basement.

Look, all things considered? This right here is probably why Emily and Logan always had a mentalist with them. And now she's dead. So - "You shut your fucking mouth, only I can call her a ginger haired cunt!" in bed, probably. Which is why Baylee's second comment is wrong: Logan is not a mother fucker, he's a sister-in-law fucker. Jesus, Baylee, get it right. But before he has a chance to say anything more, or light anything else on fire, Chetson comes to save the day! Yay Chetson!

Logan shoots one last glare over his shoulder to Baylee before he swings his arm around Emily's waist. "God this town has really gone to fucking shit," he mumbles along with her, and somewhere in the park gives her bloody nose a little smooch.

Logan makes Emily stop bleeding anyway 'cuz I said so.

"Everyone," Aidan says, briefly softer in both tone and volume, when Baylee continues yelling, but any thought that it might mean he's any less pissed off can probably be dispelled by the Look he gives Emily at the stabbing threat. If looks could kill... it'd probably mean he was being an unbelievably massive hypocrite. His hands are balled up, but not lifted to hit, and he probably isn't actually vibrating. "Use your fucking hands for it, if you try," he hisses back, but-- cops mean trouble. Well, more trouble. And he's only a bit of a hypocrite, taking a breath and stepping back himself. Baylee may have to do the same to not get stepped on. May be the point. "C'mon," he says, slightly more gently again and thus clearly to her, even if he keeps his eyes on them, "Let's go." Which is what he intends to do. Hopefully, he can pick up his work props before the police get there.

Chetson is like "COOL I DO MAGIC NOW!"

Carver's over by a table at this point. Drink in hand, cigarette stubbed out underfoot, casually chatting up a woman who has a stall filled to the brim with lovely, useless quartz trinkets. "-No, not even kidding. There was absolutely a raccoon there, love. Just watching me. You think 'Domina' is a good title for it? I mean, I don't know what the gender was, but-"

Well, he's at least distracting one person from the goings on. Thank God he wasn't talking to Cheston.

"Fucking assholes." Baylee at least doesn't shout at them as they leave, maybe because Aidan is now starting to crowd her back, or there are cops coming. A cop. Whatever. She doesn't look any less pissed off, but she's at least easy to steer away from the scene of the crime with little application of effort on Aidan's part. A hand lifts up to her nose, coming away with blood on it which she just uses her shirt to wipe away, "Sorry." The apology is most assuredly not for Logan and Emily, not that they are anywhere around to hear.

No, Emily and Logan are gone. He's busy trying to fix her bleeding nose, and she's busy getting irritated at him. They'll sort it out at home. That's why the good lord invented basements.

Aidan makes this application of effort, all right, settling a hand briefly in the small of her back. Mostly for directing purposes. "You okay?" he asks quietly once the other two are out of earshot; he's gathering up the hat (not actually looking in much worse shape than it already did, albeit dustier) and the table (definitely cracked, he's going to have to do something about that) and taking a quick look around. A bit for Carver, even though the brilliant plan is spoilt, and largely for cops to whom people might start describing the participants in the disturbance. Well, Carver is at least along a trajectory that probably leads appropriately 'away', so that's the direction he takes. "...we should head somewhere that isn't here a while. What the hell happened?" Not quite back to himself yet, but at least he no longer looks like he'd intensely like to set someone on fire right this second.

Carver's already got a handkerchief out. Seriously, how many pockets does that coat have on the inside? He might just be holding it out to give his blessing to a passing knight, or it's for someone who might have a bleeding nose that may or may not have stopped bleeding just yet. Is he looking in any direction other than sweet, sweet May-Anne and her Quartz collection? Not even a little. Sure, she's got twenty years on him, but the conversation seems to be flowing just fine. "You're right, pet. You really are. Did you know I saw a psychic a little ways back? Said I was destined for great, great things."

"I'm fine...can you believe that shit?" Baylee glances over her shoulder, then back to their pathway, just in time to spot the handkerchief that is being held out. If Carver is holding it out for some passing knight to wear as a sign of his favor he is shit out of luck, because she grabs it to use it on her nose. Hopefully it is not gross, and hopefully he's not already laced it with chloroform, because it's right there where she's bleeding. "She was a twat is what happened. I asked her what she was glaring at you for, and she was all...blah blah." She doesn't remember. "Just rude, so I hit her." She should probably not say that too loud around swee, sweet Mary-Anne.

Aidan gives Carver a mildly grateful look that he may or may not see while focusing on the lovely May-Anne, and backs it up with a 'thanks' in that sort of murmur that's meant to not interrupt someone while they're still talking. Especially to someone else. He finds a smile for May-Anne that's genuine enough, even if it's subdued by earlier standards and fades when Baylee answers.

He turns to face her directly, and places an arm around her waist and a kiss on her forehead, careful of the nose. "If you're gonna end up punching everyone who gives me a dirty look, Bay, you're gonna need to wear boxing gloves like 24/7," he says, pulling back to give her a half-smile. "Maybe save it for the ones who actually come at us. Sometimes shit goes bad quick." You know, unlike this time. This time was fiiiiine. "We should go take care of that." But he doesn't go immediately, instead giving May-Anne another little smile and in the next pause interjecting, "You've got some really nice quartz, sorry to interrupt," before asking Carver, "What makes a decent kebab?" Clearly information one can't go on without. Or else it's a passcode and they're spies. Maybe they're spies, May-Anne. Maybe that's the great, great thing.

"Suspicious meat, served by someone who speaks maybe six words of English, and costs exactly the amount of change you've got in your pocket when you order it at 3am, stinking fucking drunk." Carver replies to the eventual question, his hand free from the stolen (and pristine, thank you) handkerchief to gesture vaguely as he triest to explain. It's impossible to, though. Those kebabs are more sensation and sense of belonging than they are actual food, after all. The fact he's been thanked? Completely ignored. "And shit usually goes bad quick, kids."

Even May-Anne nods at that. May-Anne knows her shit.

"But, there's always a chance to steal food beforehand." He directs to Aidan, not so much ignoring Baylee as he is... avoiding attracting any attention. There's a subtle difference, but it's there. A hand comes out with a card, pale white, few words written upon it, and it's placed underneath what was formally Aidan's drink. Just to hold it in place. From the wind. Y'know? "You ever get a plan for Breaded-Lamb-Shish-Onion-Rings. You make sure to call me. 'Cause that sounds awful."

"I didn't throw a punch because she was giving you a dirty look. I threw a punch because they were generally unpleasant individuals." Baylee points out, which is only marginally better, right? She keeps that handkerchief against her nose as she leans into the arm and forehead kiss for just a moment. But then she informs Aidan, "The curry is better than the kebabs."

She knows what Carver means. Maybe. Or just has a preference for curry over kebabs. Then she checks if her nose is still bleeding before she sniffs, tilting her head back, trying to look down the line of her nose to check if anything was broken. "I need to make a call tonight. Don't let me forget."

Ignoring the thanks? No problem, Aidan doesn't show any sign of even noticing. The important bits got a response. A response that makes his head tilt and brow furrow a touch, but it's still a response, and maybe he gets the general idea. "Usually," he agrees with a more crooked smile, ambiguously to the going bad or the stealing food, and his eyes widen a little at the suggested plan. "Are you kidding? That sounds awesome." He's already thinking about it. "You should come by and we should see if it works." Clearly tempted to start figuring out how that works even now. What are the odds he can cook, though? He doesn't shift a lot, but at some point in there, the card stops being where it is, even though the cup doesn't. It's not his best work, though; the sharp-eyed or suspicious may well have spotted the move.

"Won't," he assures Baylee, "...but you wouldn't have known their faces were irresistibly punchable if you didn't go over to ask why she was glaring at me so... there." The argumentation runs out of steam a bit, but the point is made. Surely. He leans in to look at her nose as well, and sighs. "Okay, let's go... deal with that. Yeah?"

"I know, right?" Carver agrees with the sound of his terrible idea. In fact, it's pretty easy to tell by his expression that his entire opinion on the thing changed the second the words started coming out of his mouth. As for the little card thievery? Again, ignored. Like gratitude, the man very intently does his best to ignore any feats of digit dexterity.

"When you figure out how you're going to put that glorious abomination together, give me a call, Aidan." He states, quite matter of fact. Almost like it's already a done deal. When Aidan figures it out, he will call. There's zero hint of doubt in the Older, Male Brit's voice. And... That's it. Apparently, that's the end of the conversation. "Nice meeting you both." is stated with the same intonation as the previous sentence, May-Anne is given a little wink as he gestures around the side of her stall, and away he walks. Or, he walks away. Both people actually paying attention to him actually have a shine to them, so exactly where he walks away to is up for debate. There sure is a timely family group walking between him and the stall, though. Convenient.

Oh, there it is. Baylee narrows her eyes at Aidan, because somehow he just momentarily flipped to the traitor side with that comment. But, it's a brief moment before she rolls her eyes, "Fine, we can go deal with this."

It's an easier thing to agree with than his rightness about not approaching all the crazy dirty looks people. "Bye..." She informs Carver's ...vanished self? Whatever. She is mildly distracted by the nose and the sulking, because there is a nudge of Aidan, "I taste blood, come on."

"Nice meeting you!" Aidan says in a rather cheerier tone, pausing when Carver doesn't come out the other side of that family group. Huh. Well, that's interesting.

He looks to Baylee and her poor nose, and gives her a light squeeze before moving that arm up around her shoulders, and starting them off toward the van. "Pretty sure you would've cleaned her clock in a fair fight," he decides after a few silent seconds, and they disappear rather more mundanely into the crowds.