2019-11-04 - Of Frogs And Men

At the Day of the Dead festival, there are dancers and people in face paint, and even some people playing music. It's in the vicinity of the musicians that Diana looks, before responding to James' offer of water with a grateful nod. "Yes, please! Thank you! If it's no bother!" She coughs again, but is mostly recovered now. She blinks, twice, at James' mention of writing. "No WAY," she says, then pauses. "...are you sure YOU'RE not a frog person?" She nods to Rhys's talk of frog kisses slowly, frowning. "This could get very dangerous. Nobody kiss anybody. There, now we're safe from Frog-James. Or Frog-Diana, for that matter." She nods firmly. "Right. All set." She smiles.

James blinks at each of them in turn at all the kissing talk. "... yeah, don't worry, I'm very rarely in danger of any smoochin' breaking out in my vicinity." He then offers the joint out to the group. "Someone hold this? I'll be right back." Once someone takes the joint, he wanders off to a nearby stand and picks up a couple of bottles of water before returning to the group, offering one of them to Diana. "Here you go.", he says. "Ribbit."

Everett had noticed Erin's little wave. Lost to time in some other place, like all their lives were a potpourri of nice smelling memories on some medium somewhere, saved for all of time. That's good dope. The thug gives a non-committal nod back before looking who's with her and grunts before walking back around to the proper side of the booth for him to be on. Reaching inside his jacket, he pulls out his phone, and tucks his head down, leaning against Sweet Retreat. Someone has to keep it standing.

"Anyone can be anything at any given time in this town." Erin says with a half smile. "Frogs are the easy part. Just stay away from the sewers." Amused, she shakes her head. "You may as well kiss each other, because no one turns into a princess, if they do it's for only for the length of the dream. Mostly." If Rhys texts her, she gets the text and she will save it to her phone and text back. Just to be sure it was all good. A glance is given over to Everett but it's brief, she glances after the way Ruiz had gone, perhaps debating going for now.

"I know the feeling," Diana says, commiserating about the lack of imminent smoochin' in her vicinity. She offers to hold the joint as James bravely gets her water, and she grins as he returns with it. "Thanks! Trade ya!" And unless there's a protest, she takes her bottle of water and offers him the joint, getting smaller by the moment. The water, she quickly uncaps and starts demolishing. Sadly, then Erin has to go and suggest kissing, and she chokes on her water. Erin, what've you done?? She turns her head to the side, coughing all over again, mouth dripping a little water. Maybe she IS a frog!

Rhys lifts a hand in farewell to everyone who has left for some definitely very good but nonetheless currently vague and unestablished reason, and then uses it to accept the joint when it's held out. Because he's a helper. And also because what the hell. Technically it's a public place and thus technically it's against the law to smoke it and so technically there's a more or less subtle flicker of a glance for anyone who reads 'cop' before he does just that, glancing at Erin's return text (so yeah, no Uber) and sliding his phone back into his pocket afterward.

"I'm not sure I'm on board with ruling out kissing entirely. Opportunity only puckers once, y'know." He offers the joint on toward Erin, because I hereby decree she's on his left, and follows the glance to Everett. And his stand. "Hey, The Tick!" he calls over to the guy, "Is that skull ice cream, and can we eat it?"

Might as well get a head start on any munchies.

Hey, Diana isn't the only one doing spit-takes, because Erin's comment has James also nearly choking on his own water as he takes a drink from the second bottle he'd brought. "... ack." He cleans himself off with the sleeve of his hoodie, and sighs. "I don't even want to imagine what I'd look like as a princess." Again, he glances over the group, eyes coming to rest on Diana, who was probably choking for entirely different reasons. "You ok?"

At the mention of a small, hematophagic arachnid Looking up from his phone with curiosity. Pondering the answer for a second while he looks over Rhys' crew, Everett nods his head with an affirmative before volunteering a verbose, "Yes," with his deep timber.

Erin reaches for the joint because why not? Taking it, she lifts it to her lips and inhales, holding the smoke and passing it along. "It's a kiss. You all act like virgins. This is Gray Harbor, I know better than that." Another shake of her head and she looks over to Everett at the question directed his way. "May as well join us over here. Or we're all coming over there." She stands near Rhys but is quite a bit taller than him even without heels.

Diana gives a thumbs-up as a response to James, while continuing to cough up a storm. Eventually, she takes in a slightly deeper breath, and then several more, nodding her head. Her throat's sounding pretty raw by this point. "I don't think I'm princess material, myself," is the first thing she says, directed at James, and then she adds to Erin, "Technically, I'm not from Gray Harbor." Not that she chooses to confirm or deny the rest. "I say we go over where the ice cream-- and our 'Tick' friend-- is. Ice cream plus The Tick, I mean. It's a match made in heaven, am I right?" She pauses, then informs the rest of them, "I'm right," in case there was any doubt.

"Hey. I resent that," Rhys informs Erin with no evidence except a stern finger-point to back the claim up. "I would like to note for the record that I was on the pro-kissing side of the argument here. And as a result of this stance I have kissed multiple people over the years. Sometimes even twice!" It's the sort of serious that comes out the other side of anything like deadpan and tries very hard not to smirk and ruin the effect. With middling success.

"Anyway, I vote we all go over there, because as Diana says, ice cream. Even if he brought it to us, what if it fell? Are we prepared for that level of tragedy today?" He is not. Which is why he's already heading over to the stand. "Anyway, don't sell yourselves short! If you put your minds to it you could be pretty pretty princesses, even. I have faith in you."

"My point exactly. In this town? S'never just a kiss.", James quips back at Erin, once he's sure they haven't killed poor Diana. He blinks at her when she tells him she isn't princess material. "You'd probably look better in the dress than I would.", he replies, then gives her a lopsided smile. Glancing over at Everett and the ice cream, he takes a breath. So tall. Once again, and despite Rhys' best efforts, once again James is the shortest person here. He doesn't offer what his experience, or lack thereof, might be with kissing. A gentleman does not kiss and tell. "Right. Ice cream.", he agrees, and, assuming the joint's made its way back to him by now, he takes another drag as they head over. Quietly, he says, "... spooooon.", just under his breath.

Recognizing the dubbie being passed around, Everett's usual stoic expression mutes a little. How long have they been partaking? The brick wall pulls itself from leaning against the ice cream parlor and takes small dixie cups from the chilled tray on which they sit, leaving them on the table. There's four of them there, and he takes out four iddy biddy spoons, then glances for blood shot eyes. He thinks its safe to say James' look the most faded. "Here," murmurs Everett, offering the small spoon to James, "use this big spoon, but you'll need both hands."

Diana smiles over at Rhys, shaking her head with amusement. "Princesses tend to wear voluminous dresses, and sometimes very tall pointy dunce-like caps. That's nothing LIKE me. Now, if princesses liked leggings, well. I'd be a shoe-in." She is, in fact, wearing leggings barely seen under her high-waisted pants. They have skulls on them, naturally, which she lifts up one pants leg slightly to show off. She grins over at James, and is just about to say something when Everett offers the 'big spoon' to James. She purses her lips to try and hide her small, brows lifting.

Erin has only taken a hit and that was a small one, so no red eyes from her! She smirks at the information passed along about the kisses and experience in them from Rhys. "I am. I never left, just lived here forever. I may take a vacation for the winter though, I'm considering some time away at a winter resort for Christmas. Just to get away." It's the first time she'd voiced it aloud, outside her own thoughts and she warms to the idea. "Anyway, ice cream, then I have to go home. Things to do and all that."

James's eyes do turn to see that flash of legging from Diana. Scandalous! He quickly looks away, in time to meet Everett's looming form and the handing over of spoons and wisdom. He blinks. "... both hands.", he echoes back, and sighs. The joint's almost gone, it was a small one to begin with, so he raises a finger, takes another long drag, and then lets it out away from the group before stomping out the last of it. He makes a jazz-hands motion up at Everett. "Make with the ice cream, big man."

"I think those hats are only for Ascot these days," Rhys says, "and how do you know they're NOT wearing leggings under those dresses? Maybe even with skulls on 'em." He just catches James's sotto-voce quoting, and gives the guy a grin. "I hear he's got pockets," he confides in a murmur, and saunters along the rest of the way.

The assemblage by the table probably ends up looking like some strange perspective trick, in the end. And he's not (quite) the shortest end of it, which is unusual to start with and then gets weirder with the remark that solidarity says he definitely shouldn't snicker at and the fact that it's actually kind of funny tries to convince him that he should. As a result he actually (and literally) keeps his mouth shut for a few moments, though the grin escapes at James's jazz hands. "C'mon, how could you leave all this?" he asks Erin.

Everett's making zero effort to move past the booth that's been set up in front of Sweet Retreat. Save putting the dixie cups down on the table, he's saved them a whole jazz hand of reach themselves. Briefly Everett looks down after the new moniker, "You wanna be spoon-fed too?" He nods his head towards Diana without looking away, "Ask your girlfriend to do it." From the right side of his mouth, Everett smiles softly, moderately amused with himself as he combs thick, sausage fingers through his hair trying to get the long, free flowing hair into order. After Rhys' offer, Everett regards Erin, "Yeah, Lady. It's you guys eat it, or I throw it away. Health Department says I shouldn't mix it back in with the fresh stuff." He thinks he's so funny.

"I don't spoon-feed people anymore, sorry!" Diana says brightly to both Everett and James, not even seeming to notice how weird the 'anymore' makes that sound. Though she does address the issue of mixing ice cream with, "Oh yeah, that's REALLY dangerous. Bacteria!" It's like she thinks Everett was serious. "It's true," she says to Erin. "There's ice cream here, and Gray Harbor has a really high instance of haunted locales. I mean, so do a lot of places all over, given that dead people die near anywhere, but it surely keeps things interesting!"

Erin takes the little spoon and the dixie cup to eat the small amount of ice cream in there. "Don't look at me, I'm not eating it all. But hey, do you have churros flavored ice cream?" Because hey that sounds incredible. The night is just getting later, the lights of the ferris wheel beckoning some of the young folks towards it for a ride. Erin doesn't head for it though, not tonight. "I really should go home now. It's been a long day and I have work in the morning."

"I mean, I wouldn't say no-", James starts to reply to Everett, but then there's that quip about his 'girlfriend' and his jazz hands stop. His jaw works as he tries to come up with a proper retort, but there goes Diana, denying the spoon-feeding, but not the other part, which just leaves James even more flustered. He finally puts his hands down, and just grabs his ice cream and spoon. "I think I'll manage.", he finally gets out, before Erin starts saying their goodbyes. "Night!"

"Well, I meant more 'all this',' Rhys says, this time making a small version of a Vanna-White-esque demonstrative gesture which appears to refer to himself, James, Diana, and even Everett, which does kind of mean it ends up including the ice cream as well after all. "But fine, abandon us to our fate. I'll just text you at some ridiculously inconvenient time for revenge. Or more probably because I forgot most people work different hours." He's definitely taking ice cream either way, and feeding himself despite the massive unwieldy spoon. James is left to his fluster, but there is one very important word in all this that has as yet gone unremarked, however: "Anymore?"

Dead-pan.
Everett's smile fades right quick, like it just remembered the trauma of witnessing its parents sharing that special kind of hug.
"Oh," Everett offers Diana. Of the four little cups he's set out for them to have, Everett pulls back one of them, the one that, could be easily guessed to represent hers. He crosses his hand holding his phone over his ribs, resting his other elbow on that arm, so he can cover his own mouth with his bare hand. So nobody can see his broad grin.

Erin's given a head shake, "Sorry. Lee wasn't up to fixing special flavors. He said 'The dead don't have tastebuds.'" Everett shrugs a shoulder after mumbling that all into his cupped hand. But the usual three flavors? Chocolate, vanilla, strawberry? They got those.

The giant noticed that too, no to spoon feeding, but curiously silent to everything else. It makes Everett's green eyes flicker towards James while he still conceals his mouth. "But hands now; it's a big spoon," Everett reminds James, before he nods to Erin, adding his own, "Bunnos Sarah," offering the good night in Spanish since the lady's wearing a disguise.

"Of this?" Everett asks Rhys and shakes his head, finally taking his hand down. "Feel free."

"It's true," Diana says to Rhys, nodding her head. "All 'this' is hard stuff to leave, for sure!" She grins. "Good night-- Erin, wasn't it? I hope you have a nice rest, free of unpleasant dreams." A smile is given to her. Then she addresses Rhys, saying, "I got up to all kinds of odd jobs that needed doing, when I was working on my residency and things were slow. Granted, that wasn't awfully often, but still: spoon-feeding. I've done it." She arches a brow as Everett removes 'her' untouched ice cream. "I'll have you know, I can hold a grudge for days, sometimes weeks. I wouldn't try me." Still, she smiles anyway, holding out a hand for the ice cream. She glances at James for a moment, looking slightly mischievous, but whatever she's thinking, she doesn't act on it.

"Text me anytime, I'll see you all later." Erin can't help but smile, "Yeah, Erin Addington. You have a great night too. Don't get into too much trouble and if you do, Rhys has my number." She waves back again before heading out to her Maserati and driving off in it once she's safely buckled inside.

James simply takes the opportunity as people are not paying attention to him to eat ice cream. Omnomnom ice cream. He freezes in place as he notices folks' attention go to him, the mischief in Diana's eyes most worrisome of all. Up to some amphibious antics, that one, most likely. "... what?"

Rhys's 'anymore?' was indeed intended for Diana, but if it's going to get him more ice cream too? Sold. He's not going to bother correcting that one. It's good ice cream! And he continues to do a stellar job of spoon feeding himself, just like he'd been doing it for twenty-odd years or so. Some odder than others. Much like Diana's jobs, presumably! And he looks very much as though he's about to ask something about those, before he catches the glance and reaction. And frankly, that looks more interesting for the immediate moment.

Someone finally uses Erin's name, and she responds to it, it's enough to give the thug a second consideration in her direction; a double-take, and a soft frown. He follows it with a shake of his head. Naw, couldn't be, that's a pretty common name. Followed by her confirmation. Huh.

Diana's ice cream is returned as slowly as he took it back. "That's the last thing I need," Everett murmurs with his deep voice, and picks up the dixie cup to leave it in Diana's hand. "Residency? You a doc?" And then Everett does what everybody does when they find out someone might be a doctor: try to get their scripts pad. I mean, ask for free medical advice. His head up nods, while he frowns with concern, "So what's with that flu goin' around?" Everett glances James' way for a moment before looking back at the medical professional who clearly knows everything, tee-em. It's ice cream. And Everett would rather not throw it away; even giving some to kids who come back for seconds. Yes. Eat those carbs. EAT THEM!

Diana pulls an innocent face as she sees James catching her looking at him with mischief in her heart. "Nothing!" she says brightly, and occupies herself with eating some of her delicious ice cream for a moment. Her attention shifts to Everett at his question, and she tilts her head, as though unsure how to answer. A pause, and then, "Is anybody really anything? Food for thought. That said, the flu's caused by a strain of virus. The More You Know." Another pause. "But nah, these days I'm not so much a doc as a writer and researcher. I did finish my residency though, so technically I could've just answered 'yes.'" And then she digs back into her ice cream, eating tiny little bites in order to savor them all the longer.

James narrows his eyes at that 'innocent' look, and just watches Diana curiously as she goes on to explain the whole doctor thing. As the Flu is mentioned, he instinctively winces- having that stuff was pretty freakin' miserable. At least it had the nice side-effect of reducing his Glimmer to nearly nothing, which means he's not constantly getting battered by the emotions and impressions of everything and everyone around him. Even if he'd appreciate it a little more right this second- it's been a while since he's had to try and relate to people without getting hit over the head with their emotions, so he's not sure how to read her. "... just had that flu. Sucked.", he mutters, then glances quickly in Everett's direction, calculating the odds that he can finagle more ice cream from the man. Outlook uncertain.

The metaphysical question seems to catch Everett off guard if but for a second. "Uhh. Yeah." He points his phone at them, "From what I over-heard, the two of you are grogs and I'm the butterfly that once stabbed a man with a shiv 'cuz he tried to take my butterscotch pudding." None of that story is true, but he might sell it with the tattoos. Or with, picking up one of the dixie cups and setting it in front of them, "This one has butterscotch icing. Eat it." And oh, how he wants to say that like it's not a request. "Man, that was a long way of saying yes," Everett murmurs, looking sideways towards James. Is that sympathy?

"Yeah, me too," Everett replies to James, the calculation is already on the table. "Lucky for you, you got someone with know how if it happens again, yeah?"

Rhys has things to say. He has many things to say! And much ice cream to eat! Even if these are, if not mutually exclusive, mutually inconvenient. Unfortunately for him, he also has a telephone with, presumably, an alarm, because he winces when it goes off. "Damn. That's my cue," he says, and licks the little spoon clean, dropping it and the last of his cups into the trash. "Buenos noches, compaņeros. Hope I catch you, and not the flu, again." He points at James, adding, "And you at the secret meeting house, of course." A quick grin, and he's off.

When James narrows his eyes, Diana just smiles all the brighter, and she sets her cup down long enough to form a halo with her hands above her head. Then it's back to her ice cream, though. She winces in sympathy for both Everett and James, shaking her head. "Sorry you two were sick so recently. This time of year, it happens so much more frequently. Cold outside, lowered immune systems, lots of time spent indoors with other potentially infected people-- it's a lot of risk factors." She pauses, looking from the 'butterscotch icing' cup to Everett. "You stabbed someone over butterscotch pudding, so if that's icing, I'm safe. I'm wise to your games, sir." And she reaches for the butterscotch icing while confessing, "I honestly don't know about the flu too much more than your average person, if it's even 'more' at all. Wasn't really my area of study. I was more into the thinky-bits." As Rhys prepares to go, and says he'll meet James at the secret meeting house, she clucks her tongue. "No girls allowed club house? Tch. Figures." She then grins at Rhys. "Have a pleasant evening, and sorry you had the flu, too! That's rough." She gives him a polite wave with the ice-cream-cup holding hand.

James quietly upgrades Diana's threat level to paisley as she gives him that little halo, and swallows drily. A glance back (and up and up) to Everett, and he shudders. "Wait, you mean it can happen again?", he asks, and just goes a little green around the proverbial gills for a moment. "Great." And then Rhys is heading off, and James gives him a quick wave. "Don't forget this week's secret handshake!", he calls back, then chuckles at Diana. "No, no, girls totally allowed. But no souls allowed, gingers only."

The large man up nods his head to Rhys as he signals his departure after looking towards the alarm going off. When Diana speaks, his attention returns to her, and he taps his nose with a forefinger, "So long as it isn't pudding, you may be fine. Besides," Everett glances down towards James, stirring the pot again, "Your boyfriend looks mighty. I'd hate to take him on anywhere but in a kart." He smiles softly, mostly to himself and the dream he's sure was stress related to this event. Or his mind telling him he needs a vacation from the whole sweets thing.
For Diana, Everett shakes his head, "Leprechaun maybe? Otherwise I'd be allowed in."

To James, Everett makes a calm down motion with his tattooed hand, "Calm down. I haven't killed anyone since the last time I was let out of jail for shivving someone for eating carbs." He pauses a second and then sniffs, "That they know about."

Diana smirks at Everett and takes the cup, then. "Now I have two cups," she announces, for anyone who missed her triumph. She pauses at James' question about the flu, then tilts her head at his reply about the clubhouse, asking, "Natural gingers only? Or does 'out of a bottle' count? Because I definitely like the idea of sneaking in to someone secret hideout. They're always secret for a REASON." She pauses again at Everett's claim that her 'boyfriend' is mighty, and she arches a brow. "Hate to disappoint you, but I haven't committed to anything yet. That's okay, though, because I am also mighty. I have a glow you cannot see. I have a heart as big as the moon, and as warm as bath water." She doesn't quote the rest of it, shrugging. "Plus, I'm heavily trained in ju jitsu. As far as you know."

James twitches at the 'mighty' quip, less because of the implication that he is not, in fact, mighty, because let's face it, he is not. No, it's the other two words, 'boyfriend' and 'kart', and he's unsure which one to react to first. "... wait what who's getting committed?", he finally stumbles out, and blinks slowly at the two of them. When Everett tries to reassure him, he tilts his head. "I'm assuming that was last week, then?", James quips up at Everett, but tries on a weak smile as he looks between the large man who's going to shiv him at any moment, and the smaller (but still got an inch or two on him) woman with the ju jitsu skills. "Err. Yes. I, too, am quite capable at the combats. I combats all the time. Like, pow, bang. Zap, even. I once killed a man, because he, um, he... I didn't like his hat. Yeah. Just, y'know, a bad, bad hat." Very intimidating, James. Well done.

She might not have committed to anything, but Everett smirks softly. And after a quick flick of his eyes towards the other man, "It's a deep disappointment," Everett's equally deep voice assures. "You'll find no one out there quite like him. Just look at him, and all that muscle hiding just under the surface, ready to strike. Why, he's a cat, ready to pounce. He's a snake coiled to explode," with some amusement, Everett smiles at James, after the same style of flowery language Diana used. Ain'tcha. Ain'tcha? James' demonstrative speech makes Everet point at him while he turns to Diana. "See? He's mighty, mighty. Letting them all hang out. Here, kid. You're going to need this defending her boundless honour," he says, pushing the tub used to chill the ice cream Dixie cups in James' direction.

"No one's being committed," Diana assures James. "I'm not even licensed to practice in this state yet! So all's well, and everyone's safe. There. Good? Good." She nods to his claims of 'combats' prowess, seeming to take it in stride. "You do give off that impression, yes. Definitely one to keep an eye on. As for you," she informs Everett, "He does seem mighty, but I'm not in need of a knight errant. Like I said, I know karate." Or, you know, ju jitsu. "No offense intended," she says to James, then adds, "...but while I don't need a knight errant, that doesn't mean I don't find you mighty, nor that I can't think of any uses for you!" A pause, and then she goes a deep red as she realizes how that sounds, and deals with that by digging into her ice cream, finishing off both dixie cups in record time. She tosses the Dixie cups into the trash and then grasps her head, scowling. "Headache!"

James looks around himself, making sure Everett's not talking about some other dude standing behind him. "Yeah, I'm a regular beast, I am. Mad, bad, and dangerous to kno- ooh, ice cream.", he replies, and reaches in to steal some more ice cream as soon as Everett offers. "Psst. Let me know what flavors you like. I'll steal you some while he's not looking.", he mock-whispers to Diana- just as she's telling him she can 'think of uses' for him. And he freezes in place, employing the time-honored strategy of assuming predators can't see you if you don't move. Threat level escalated to plaid. Eventually his brain clicks back into gear, and he straightens, bringing a couple of ice cream cups with him. "I-it's alright, totally cool, you're a strong, independent woman, and also oh, hey, wow, look at the time.", he says lifting up his arm without looking at it. He does not have a wristwatch on it anyway. "I should, err, y'know. Because of the lateness. Of the time. Right." He takes a step back.

The pointed 'as for you' causes Everett to lean back, and raise his hands up defensively, even while wearing a smile. Her affirmation of her martial skills makes his brows raise, impressed but no less amused. And while she blushes, Everett, like the devil he is, grins the broadest he's maybe grinned in at least a week. He licks his lips with a quick flash of pink while the ice cream dealer relaxes. Oh yeah, he knows how that sounds. And he could help, but she doesn't need a knight errant. Someone once said that.
With a broad grin, Everett smacks his lips together and, still, can't help but help now that he's helped so much. "Tongue." The large man points up, "Put it to the roof of your mouth; you'll be find in no time, Bruce Lee." When James starts backing off, Everett cants his head, still no less amused. Can't this guy close a sure thing? "Dude..." is the aloud wonderment of that self-asked question. His mouth opens and Everett exhales softly, shaking his head. "You two are going to be just fine," he notes aloud, stealing the tub of ice from under the tray and carrying it towards the door to Sweet Retreat to leave it there.

Diana groans, holding her head, and whether or not she takes Everett's tongue advice is unclear. Her hands drop just in time for her to hear James is heading off, and she gives a nervous smile, nodding her head. "Well, um. It was nice to meet you, um. James. Have fun in your clubhouse. And stuff. Don't forget the um. Secret handshake and all." Her smile drops, and she reaches for another cup of ice cream without asking. So rude. Whether that succeeds or not, she gives a polite wave to James, then frowns slightly at Everett, though all she says is, "Thanks for the advice. About the headache. Not sure if it helped or not. Placebo effect, and all."

Never underestimate James' ability to fuck up a good thing. He's been doing it for years. He catches that nervous smile from Diana, and stops his retreat. "Err. It was really nice meeting you too, Diana. Maybe I'll... see you around sometime? That'd be, uhm, cool.", he says, standing there awkwardly for a moment. A glance over at Everett as he steps away to drop off the ice, and then back to Diana. "Say. Uhm. Actually." He scratches the back of his head lightly, looking away. "If I. Uhm. Gave you my number, you could text me, like, later. Y'know. Just to reassure me you're not a frog yet, yeah?"

On his way back, Everett cants his head softly, his brilliant smile gone and replaced with confusion. Gesturing towards Diana and James, he asks, "What? You two just met? And you already have this insane connection? You should exchange phone numbers," he says, backing up James' offer, glancing at the other man with a serious expression. Papa couldn't be more proud of you. Wing-man, there's an achievement for that, right? The ice cream theft is not commented on. Really, it's there to be eaten; and he doesn't mind at all, especially the enjoyment it brings to kids when they come running up to do the same. As for his advice, "Naw, it totally works. From what I remember, the roof of your mouth gets cold, that does something or another. The tongue on it is supposed to warm it up." Everett takes the folding chairs at the booth, collapses them and moves them too, towards the door with the ice tub. "I think I heard about it on NPR," he says as way of explanation.

Diana nods to James' 'see you around,' though it's not until 'that'd be cool' that she glances his way. She casts a smile in his direction, a little uncertainly, and then tilts her head as he goes on. She can't help but smile, though, at the mention of numbers and frogs. She pauses to glance at Everett being wingman, and then she laughs softly. "Yeah, sure. I mean... you know. Frogs. They're dangerous. Just... you know. Leaping into danger at every turn, and bringing us poor mortals along. Plus, no one can really be sure they're NOT a frog, right? I mean, what is a frog, really?" She reaches into a pocket for her notebook, jotting down her number, even though he offered to give his. Maybe it's a tit for tat. The page is ripped out and offered over to James. "That's really cool," she says as an aside to Everett. "You'd think I'd know that, me being a 'doctor' and all." And that mischievous smile is back.

James winces a bit at Everett's cheerleading. Look, he's just a boy, standing in front of a girl, asking her if she's a frog-person. Still, when that smile returns to her lips, he relaxes a little. His emo-radar may be on the fritz, but maybe he actually managed to somehow navigate this particular interaction correctly, if she's smiling. "Err, right, exactly. Y'gotta do regular check-ins, y'know, make sure." And then she's writing down her number and handing it to him, which leaves him a little surprised. "... oh. Well. That works too. Wait...", he says, and pulls out his celphone, quickly tapping away a message and texting it to her. "There. OK. I... really should go tho. G'night!" He gives Everett a quick wave. "Ice cream! Awesome!" And then he flees because that's as much bravery as he can handle for the moment.

There it is again, that metaphysical stuff. What is a frog? It's an am-- Everett's eyes narrow while he frowns softly. Stoned people suck. He tsks and shakes his head, his expression turning stoic after a cleansing roll of his eyes. "I guess it depends on the kind of doctor you are. Could be a butt doctor," he stops breaking the booth down to ponder, looking in the vague direction of the ocean. And because its been a tick or two since he's made James nervous or for other malfeasant reasons, Everett nods his head once in James' direction and supplies, "I suppose he'll find out." And when James waves good-bye, Everett smiles and offers, "Come back now."

Diana is, indeed, smiling. Pretty brightly, actually. "Have a good night, James!" she says with a wave, and then takes out her cell phone, laughing at what she reads there. Tappa-tappa. She sends a response, and then looks toward Everett. "I'm not a butt doctor, I'm afraid." A pause. "Well, not usually, and only sometimes in the metaphorical sense," she says mysteriously, and then waggles her fingers in Everett's direction. "Have a good night, and thank you for the ice cream, stranger! Don't be a stranger now, y'hear?" Not that she asks his name. So rude. That said, she starts to head off.