2019-12-17 - Hey, Remember When....

"Pfft. Psh. C'mon. I bet you totally had another girlfriend within the month." Beat. BLUSH. "Notthatweweredatingoranything!!" She could get a job as an auctioneer with that speed-talking, her blush heating up full brilliant color once more as she hurries forward to find something to say to cover for herself. "I mean.." That squeaky voice, was that her?? She halts herself again, clears her throat once. Twice. "I mean. You know. The dance. It, uhm. It would have been the first." Beat. "Date." Duh. Kass groans and double facepalms, shaking her head against her hands. "I'm sorry. Apparently I'm still a gawky teen who can't talk to boys." She lets out a huff of a breath and turns back to looks at him, latching onto something he says, "Wizardry oblige? That anything like noblesse oblige? Cause that got used to justify stuff like prima nocta and... and..." And its time to blush again! Though she does seem pleased by his compliment. "T-thanks. You look.. great. Too. Still." Letting out a smaller groans, she rolls her eyes at herself and moves along. "No argument on the Weezer. But I still like Journey better. And I'm ready to die on that hill."

"Oh, sure, ten or twelve. Might've been fourteen," Rhys replies, "A couple for each day of the week, you know, can't get caught short." He gives her another smile, this one with a sidelong look that suggests the joke's meant to be a shared one. Teenage Rhys would probably have been amused by it too, although, okay, possibly not that actual week. "And don't worry about it, I'm still a gawky boy who can't talk to-- wait, I didn't think that one through." There's a reasonable chance he did, really. But hey, it's hard to be too self-conscious while laughing, so it's worth a try, right?

The latching on makes him grin again. "Well, yeah, but the other side. The side that's supposed to justify all that kind of unjustifiable crap. Responsibilities to go with the rights. Wizards don't do that kind of shit, though. They take away your staff and crack it in half, you get dis-starred." He says it much more seriously than it has any right to be, and a moment later his head ducks a little, the smile smaller, her blush not quite contagious. "Thanks. And I dunno... Weezer's got a better overall catalogue, for my money. But Journey's got Don't Stop Believin', and that's alone's tough to beat."

"What, only fourteen? I would've thought surely maybe twenty.. twenty-two. Should I be flattered that you slowed down a little out of some deference to me? Did you maybe care just a little?" Kass holds up one hand, forefinger and thumb pinched nearly together with just a little space between them. She's trying not to grin, but it flashes briefly across her features anyways, a bit of that girl from ten years ago shining through with the impish glee in her eyes. His attempt works, she lets out a small laugh, cuts herself off with a quick glance around, then seems to remember something and relaxes again, glancing towards Rhys with a smile, "Thanks. I can't remember the last time I laughed. Really laughed."

"Dis-starred? man, that sounds harsh. Having the staff broken in two seems harsh enough.. don't take away someone's stars. That's just mean," Kass tsks lightly and shakes her head, no appearance of joking on her face. Kass watches him for a moment, the not-quite-a-blush provoking a similar reaction in her as she shrugs and mumbles, "Told you then you're hot... guys don't just stop being hot." Her eyes drop to the side only to fly right back to him, "And Faithfully, And Separate Ways, and Open Arms, and Wheel in the Sky, and Any Way You Want It, and Who's Crying Now, and, uhm... Lovin', Touchin', Squeezin'.... When you Love a Woman..." Clearing her throat, something once more seems SUPER interesting... over there. Her gaze skittering away as she takes a deep breath and slowly lets it out. "So. Uh. You friends with the Kelly's?"

Rhys lifts his hand to mirror that little pinch of air, along with a quiet 'mm' of noncommittal 'maybe just a little'-ness, and the expression would carry it off more convincingly if his eyes looked less amused. That softens with her remark about laughing, which gets an entirely genuine smile in return.

"You'd think it'd be enough, yeah," he says of the staff-breaking, "I mean, it's particularly hard on the interns." It's his turn to laugh a little at the mumble, and he shrugs. "Well, most evidence seems to suggest girls don't either," he says, moving right on into, "None of those are on the same level, though. If you walk into karaoke and start Any Way You Want It or maybe Wheel in the Sky, you'll get some people on board, but most of the others aren't gonna do it, and Don't Stop Believin'? Everyone. It's on a short and very particular list."

A glance around, as the place is emptying out -- but not too empty, yet. He keeps his seat in the bleachers for now. "Yeah, I'd say so. Known the family a long time, my grandparents live a few houses down from 'em. How about you?" Probably not the are you friends part so much as how or how long or... something in that area. "Here 'cause of Joey or the Tick or someone else entirely?"

The smile has her blushing once more, though a softer type of blush. One that's accompanied by a shy half-smile. The same one she sent him about ten years ago that got them talking in the first place. Head ducking, tucking a lock of hair behind one ear. she glances to her hands, then back to him, chuckling, "I can only imagine. Poor guys probably barely even -have- any stars to dis-star! That staff has gotta be their whole world."

Back to Journey, however, she pauses long enough to give his words some serious consideration before nodding slowly, "You may have a point. Don't Stop Believin'... Africa." She pauses, then glances back to him and grins faintly, "It seems like we had this conversation once already. So let me ask you the question I didn't before... what's your hands down absolute number one.. favorite song? The one song you can't shut off when it comes on, no matter what."

Kass has barely noticed people leaving, though she did spare a moment to mime something towards Everett as he headed off, looking back to Rhys. His question has her shaking her head and murmuring, "Nobody in particular. I mean, I started coming because I know the Kelly's and it seemed like a way to uh... start getting to know people again? But like.. not -with- anyone. I mostly visit with people after.. make sure the fighters are okay... that sorta thing." The question of the Kelly's has her chuckling, "Ran in the same crowd as them from before.. lived in the same area and just.. you know. They were older, but they've never made me feel unwelcome. So, you know.. a pretty long time."

Rhys lived largely in the same area too -- even after his mom moved the pair of them from his grandparents' off the street proper and into Huckleberry, he spent a lot of time at their place and other peoples'. "Bohemian Rhapsody," he adds to the list, "Baby Got Back..." A grin from him in return, and the question gets a small, almost sheepish laugh. "There's a lot of songs it'd take a lot to get me turning off, honestly. At least a few I'd stay in the car to finish given the option. But honestly... if it's not Don't Stop Believin', that's definitely in the running. Feel like I ought to be more original, but what can I say." He shrugs. "What's yours?"

There's still a somewhat sheepish look when she answers the other question. "I might not've been paying quite enough attention to girls when we were little," he muses. "But yeah, they've always been pretty good at that. And," a glance around at the remnants of the entirely illegal fighting ring, and he can't help looking amused again, "there's worse places to get to know people, I guess. Nice of you to check in on the fighters. ...do you do medical stuff? What're you up to these days, anyway?"

Kass' family moved into the Elm Street area when she was maybe seven or eight. Even then there were rumors about that 'strange Hughes girl'. That the family used to be so 'nice' and then things kept going wrong for the parents, and how sad it was to see the father turning into an alcoholic and the mother fading into a drug-induced haze. Hints that it might have been because of the girl. "Bennie and the Jets. Even if nobody can remember the words, everyone sings it." She flashes a brief grin over the camaraderie with music, though when he turns the question back on her, she pauses, lips pursing up as she considers. "Well.. I... I don't actually sing but... Ah-Ha... Take On Me."

Biting her bottom lip, Kass watches him for a moment, almost too long, then leans in and nudges him lightly, "I mean.. if you'd been noticing the ten year old running around, I might be -more- worried. I think you noticed at the right time." She offers a small smile and pulls one sneakered foot up onto the edge of the bleacher, wrapping her arm around the limb. The question has her glancing away again and mumbling, "I, uhm.. I... work at.. Platinum." The strip club. Yup. The blushing woman that can barely tease him without getting embarrassed works at the strip club. "I'm just... good at fixing things. People too."

Rhys tips a finger her way at her suggestion of Bennie and the Jets, "If we're including the no one remembers the words group, Sweet Caroline and prooobably American Pie," he says. "And good choice. That one's fun to sing, too. I'm not claiming I'm any good at it, just to be clear here. But it's fun."

Her point about the age thing makes him snicker, and he makes an 'okay, yeah' gesture, though he does add, "Well, I would've been, what, twelve at the time? But still, yeah. Better timing." In some ways. Not so great in others, obviously. His brows lift when she says where she works, and he can't but ask: "Dancing?' He doesn't sound disapproving, but definitely a bit surprised and a bit more curious, "...or something else? That's how Lyric mentioned working there too." And she, of course, followed it up with a 'something else' definition. "Fixing things I get. Fixing people?"

"Louie Louie. Nobody ever remembers any part of that song except 'Louie Louie, oh baby, we got it goin' on'..." Kass returns with that brief grin before she gives a small nod. "I don't know why but... Take On Me just... hits hard. So does Don't Stop Believin'. Even though I'm terrible at singing.. I have to. Every time. Just belting it out and then..." Well, then its blushing time.

Chuckling a bit, she lifts a brow, "Were you saying you were chasing girls already at twelve?" She clears her throat lightly and glances at him, "Maybe better timing now?" Since she isn't planning on getting hijacked off to the asylum anytime soon. The obvious question gets a shake of her head, "I can barely walk in heels, let alone take my clothes off in them. I'm a cocktail waitress. Antonio, he lets me uh... be creative... with the uniform." Clearing her throat she murmurs, "He was the only one that would hire me. With my, uh.. history." The question has her head tilting, staring at him for a long moment before she glances down and murmurs, "Its complicated. I... uhm... how much... how much do you know about the, uh... the stuff that happens in this town? Like... like the weird stuff." She flicks a glance towards him, then away, almost like she's bracing herself for something bad.

"...wait, is it 'we got it goin' on'?" Rhys asks, which if anything proves the point, "I always thought it was 'me gotta go'. Huh." He does not get out his phone and look it up, apparently happy to stick with the conversation as it is. That mystery can wait for another time. "And no, no, I was saying I wasn't chasing girls at twelve. Saved all that kind of thing for the ripe maturity of thirteen." A too-serious nod, and the smile sneaks out again. "Yeah, hopefully better timing now."

Cocktail waitress -- that feels like it fits better, frankly, and the nod clearly suggests as much. "I'm pretty sure I'd lose an ankle trying something like that," he says, "What kind of creative? Just no heels?" They usually do belong to that kind of uniform, right? The difficulty finding work has his expression clouding briefly, and a small nod. He might be considering saying something else, but the rest distracts him. "Weird stuff?" A shrug. He... doesn't glimmer. It may be ridiculously common around here, but so far it seems to have skipped him. "What, like the headless horseman prank that went wrong at the park pumpkin patch a couple months ago? They accidentally set most of the place on fire."

Laughing once more, Kass grins at him, "Point made. Perhaps the most misquoted song of all time." She lifts a shrug and seems content to let it stay an unsolved mystery, enjoying the conversation too much to ruin it with 'well ackshually...' Then the conversation is turning again and she lets out a small snicker, 'Oh, yes. That ripe old age of thirteen. Perfect age to start noticing girls. Someone should do a tongue in cheek 'wildlife' documentary about boys and girls at that age. Like, just completely silly. Hiding in plain sight, talking about them like they can't understand a word." His agreement has her smiling again, that shy, almost sweet smile.

Nodding sagely at his words she agrees, "Same. I just can't get the hang of them. Don't know HOW the girls on stage work it. Every time I try, I just end up falling over." Shaking her head, she chuckles again, "No, um.. most of the girls wear like.. booty shorts and a bikini top, right? But, uhm.. mostly I wear pasties and a special bottom and.. uh.. bodypaint? Like.. airbrushed bodypaint. I go as all kinds of things.. some abstract, some more realistic. Just depends on what I feel like that day. For Thanksgiving I was done up like a turkey. For Christmas I'm gonna be a reindeer. Sometimes I use prosthetics with it, mostly thought its just me and the bodypaint." When the conversation swings back to the weird things that happen, and she can't feel anything 'weird' about him, and he talks about the 'prank gone wrong', she looks briefly crestfallen. Like someone just kicked her puppy. Its only there for a brief moment, quickly hidden beneath a wry grin and small chuckle, "Uhhhhh, yeah. Stuff like that. I mean its weird, right? How often that stuff happens here? I can't tell if we're just the Accident Prone capital of the world or this town should be awarded a Darwin Award, like, collectively. For all the weird things happening."

Rhys considers her supposition, then nods. "The only competition that comes to mind immediately's Blinded by the Light, and that's just one weird line. Louie Louie's basically the entire song." He laughs at her proposal for a documentary, a delighted sound. "Now you're kinda making me wish I had any cinematic talent," he says, "though that's probably safer. Working with a whole flock of middle school kids trying to act seems like serious masochism, and going for a candid style would almost definitely get me put on some kinda list at best. Someone who isn't me should definitely do that, though."

His brows lift again at her description of her basic 'uniform', like he just can't quite help it. But the mention of the Thanksgiving version? That makes him laugh again. "...a living turkey, with the feathers?" he asks, "'cause my first mental image was roasted and ready for dinner, golden brown and crispy, and appealing as that is on some levels, I can't help feeling like it wouldn't really translate to bodypaint. Even with gravy." There's probably a mental note made about the reindeer thing, though.

That crestfallen moment? He catches it, and there's a flicker of confusion in turn. "It is weird, yeah. I think we don't get that award until we somehow manage to wipe the whole place out trying to, I dunno, something involving pure sodium, the sawmill, and the sea? But, y'know, any day now. Got a place for it on the mantel, if the mantel actually survives." A tiny pause. "Wrong answer, though? What kind of weird stuff did you have in mind?

"Yup. Everyone knows 'Louie Louie'.. nobody knows the words. I love that song," Kass chuckles lowly before turning back to him. She grins when he adds to her idea, giving a nod, "That's why I never tried to pitch it to anyone. You gotta figure that trying to act all Steve Irwin on some pubescent kids is going to result in police and tazers and pepperspray... maybe getting kicked in sensitive places." She lets out a sigh, "But someone definitely should. Maybe Tom Green, he seems like he gets kicked alot anyways."

She smiles, "Mostly airbrushed bodypaint, but yes. I had a feathered piece that covered my butt. So, uh... think like.. feather bikini with bodypaint covering the rest." Kass lifts a shrug and chuckles, "No roasted turkey. I... like the bodypaint. Its like being fully covered. Even when I'm not. It makes me feel more comfortable in a situation where I'm anything but." Her shoulders lifting in a small shrug as she looks down to her hands.

"Technically we just have to sterilize the town to earn it. Nobody HAS to die." Kass points out reasonably before just chuckling softly. "That sounds like an interesting experiment, though." She flicks a glance back at his question, then back to her hands, "Uhm. I mean." Kass tries to figure out how to cover getting caught. "You said you're a wizard, right? What's your specialty?" Smooth, Hughes. Super smooth.

"Could he give it the necessary gravitas, though?" Rhys muses, "I mean, it takes more than getting kicked a lot to pull off a good wildlife documentarian vibe, right? Though the getting kicked probably doesn't hurt. Except literally." He grins again, and shifts position slightly on the bleacher. They're only comfortable for so long before one needs to adjust.

"Do you take pictures to document your work? It's you doing the art for it on yourself?" Sounds a little awkward to manage, airbrushing one's own back and all, but the way she's talked about it so far, it sounds like she probably does. "I'm trying to imagine if I'd feel more comfortable painted with minimal fabric coverage or wearing booty shorts and a bikini top and bare, but honestly I just keep stumbling over the mental images like I was trying to walk in heels." A smile. "Glad it works for you, though. And that you get a chance to be creative in the job, figure that makes almost any of 'em better."

He gives her an exaggeratedly wary look when she talks about sterilizing the town, and gives a sole protest of "I live here," before dropping that thread right there. "...and apparently, it's invisibility. Or will be. I never said I'm a very good wizard. Oh, I'm also decent at anti-inhibition potions and really damn good at making ice cream disappear." Smooth or not, maybe he's going to let it go for now.

"Hmmmmmmm, true. Maybe Jack Black then. We've already seem him do movies with kids, and he's had serious roles before." Kass treats the subject seriously.. or at least as seriously as one can treat this particular subject, "AND we've seen him to physical comedy before so he can handle the abuse from the kids." Kass turns, shifting so that she's drawing her feet up onto the bleacher, leaning forward over her legs with her arms looped around them. Much more comfy!

"I don't do it to myself, no. I have a friend, we brainstorm things up and he helps me get painted up. I couldn't give the necessary detail if I had to airbrush myself since some of that would be in really awkward places," she flashes a grin and reaches around, digging her phone from her messenger bag and pulling up a specific gallery. Turning the phone out in offer, she says, "But there's always pictures. Its art, we can't not document it." And sure enough, there's picture after picture of Kass, wearing little more than pasties and a tight-fitting 'underpant' all painted up and wearing a different pair of Chuck Taylors in each photo, sometimes with a wig, sometimes with her own hair. Ursula, Rainbow Dash, Cheetara, one from Halloween as her dressed up like one of the Fireys from the Labyrinth, her at Thanksgiving done up like a turkey with soft tufts of down feathers at her chest and covering the 'panty' as well as a bigger display at her butt of actual turkey feathers. The pictures go on, probably forty or more. "Yeah, I mean, as far as 'ways of making money' goes.. Antonio's not a bad boss. And lately he's been giving me the chance to come up with events and stuff for the club, draw in more business... I might be able to step up from cocktail waitress to assistant manager and event promoter if this keeps up. So here's hoping."

Laughing, Kass lifts a brow at him, "You would rather be dead than unable to have kids? This really is a weird town. Besides, its not like sterility affects your ability to have sex.." Oops, there goes the blush again! Hurrying right along with him, she jump back to the safer topic of wizardry, "You? Invisible? I disbelieve... you couldn't hide in a high school full of skyscraper jocks or a gang of heart-breaking bad boys... you.." she pauses, searching for the right word, "you're too... interesting.. and.. good-looking." That flush darkens across her cheeks, but she soldiers forward. "I could go for some ice cream.. making it disappear sounds really good, actually. Maybe with a side of that anti-inhibition potion?"

Rhys's accepted the phone, of course, and starts to flick through the pictures, studying them with interest. "Jack Black might work. Clearly we ought to write up a treatment and send it to the guy," he says, and then laughs, pausing on one of the pictures. "Ursula has never looked that good," he notes, and there's smiles for most of the others, as well. "This is awesome. You guys have talent," he says, and goes a bit thoughtful. Whatever he's considering doesn't actually come out aloud, this time, unless it's: "Hope you get that promotion, though. If you want to talk about that stuff some time, I'm managing the Firefly." While he has the phone -- and unless she reaches to try to take it back and stop him -- he slides away from the pictures and to the contacts, adding himself, including a quick, silly selfie to come up if he calls. If, because the cheekiness stops just short of actually texting that new contact from her phone for her. He offers it back, instead.

"Look, dying I've had time to come to terms with!" he protests, though the grin undercuts it a bit. His brows lift a bit wickedly as he adds, "Point, though." Might actually be encouraging that blush a little. Quite unfairly, her compliments don't get one out of him, but they do get a mock-wounded, "What, you don't think I can be a heart-breaking bad boy?" before he gets to the more sincere, "Thanks," with its slightly crooked smile. "I've heard rumours ice cream can be found in this town. So yeah, let's go do something about that. I'll show you my mad wizardry skills. Pretty sure we can wrangle the potion, too." He rises to his feet, and offers her an almost certainly unnecessary hand up as well.

Letting the phone go, Kass watches him as he flips through the phone. There's a LOT of pictures. Like someone has been having fun photographing her all painted up. Probably not always telling her about it too, from the state of some of the pictures. Some she's clearly posing for. "I think we should. I bet he would take on the role, this is the type of stuff he loves to do." She glances over, then flushes and grins, "Thanks.. uh... that was the first night at Platinum for me. I was so nervous, Grant suggested Ursula to help make me feel more.. confident?" She glances over at him when he takes the selfie, grinning briefly before taking the phone back to look down at the contact picture. Chuckling, she looks back to Rhys and asks, "Gonna try to steal me from the competition?"

A brief bark of laughter slips free and she glances around quickly as if to see if anyone's noticed. Clearing her throat, Kass looks at him, that blush still riding her cheeks as she lets the comment about sterility and sex pass, though the next subject does nothing to cool the heat in her cheeks. "I think in a group of Kelly twins and cousins.. I saw you." She lifts a slightly embarrassed shrug and gives a quick nod, trying to keep the blush to manageable levels. The offer of the hand is taken, however unnecessary, as she hauls herself up to her feet with a nod. She might be an inch taller than him now, though its really hard to tell with him in shoes and her wearing her sneakers. Right around the same height, she flashes him a brief but sincere grin as she nods, "You can tell me about what you've been up to these last years. I'd like to hear about it."

"She's a good choice. Self-assured, knows she's got power. Confidence is one of those things where fake it 'til you make it can actually work," Rhys says, "...so did it work for you?" He regards her with interest, and laughs briefly at the question of theft. "Not yet," he says, "but if I can answer anything that helps you get that promotion, then I know where to go poaching when I do need an assistant manager and you've got experience banked." It's teasing, or at least mostly teasing, but the offer to talk is genuine.

He can't, or doesn't bother to, avoid the grin at that remark about being noticed among Kellys and co. "Good answer," he says a touch more quietly, and though he glances her over as she stands, it probably isn't a height assessment. "And sure, I can do that. On the condition that you tell me what you've been up to lately, too." Little bit of wiggle room in that particular timeframe. "I think that's a fair bargain. Plus, it includes ice cream, so how can you lose?" He leads the way out, asking along the way, "How'd you get here -- walk or drive? And are you staying with your folks, or found somewhere new?" One of these questions is directly relevant to arranging wizardry. The other might be more tangential.

Nodding, Kass offers, "When I'm covered in paint? I don't feel as nervous, or scared. I'm art, someone else put their art on me. I can't.. I can't let that person down by.. by being me." She chuckles lightly and gives a nod, "I'm helping set up the Christmas event right now. Its going to be good. I've come up with a whole bunch of 'seasonal' drinks and he's using my ideas for the Christmas offers. But, that means I have to pose again for the marketing, same as I did for Thanksgiving. So.. my ass will be all over the place again, I'm sure my father will be so proud." She offers a wry grin and shrugs.

Clearing her throat, she slides him a glance and that shy smile that she kept sending him back in the day. The one that's interested but too unsure to say something. When they start walking, she loosens her hold on his hand in case he wants to reclaim it, giving a nod for his deal offered, "Sounds like you have a deal, Rhys." It doesn't take long for the embarrassment to crop back up, her cheeks pinking as she murmurs, "I never learned how to drive. I walked over from Huckleberry Mobile Homes? My.. my parents weren't exactly thrilled.. when I came home. So I, I moved out as fast as I could." Which might also explain why she was so desperate for a job that someone who doesn't want to be noticed signed on at a strip club where she's guaranteed to be seen. "What about you??"

"When you're covered in paint, you're still you," Rhys says, "...and I bet no one's disappointed." There's a little teasing there, but it seems genuine nonetheless. "It'll be thoroughly painted though, right? And possibly have a cute little reindeer tail. And then we'll all show up to try out your seasonal drinks, and probably pretty much run that little tail right off."

He seems happy enough to retain her hand if she's inclined to leave it there, light enough that reclaiming is easy on her end as well. "My ma's still at Huckleberry. And I drove today, so that'll work fine." He directs them toward where he parked; the car's not new and not old, fairly nondescript really. (Partly because the player hasn't decided what it should be yet. Sorry!) "I live in the bay." Not on, in. He sounds fairly pleased about it.

And if she's up for the ride, that's the direction he drives them, too.

Walking along with him, hand in hand, Kass stops short at his comment. Head turning sharply to look at him, eyes wide, staring really. Her fingers tighten around his just enough to not lose that contact before she can get her feet moving again. A blush stains her cheeks, softer this time, a soft pink rather than the bright red it has been. "Don't tell Them that, though.. I go by a different name when I'm working and I'm always painted up so... maybe They think I'm someone else." There's that odd inflection in 'they', as if she were capitalizing it into a proper noun rather than pronoun. Chuckling lightly at the slight shift in topic, she gives a nod and glances towards him, "Just stay away from the eggnog. Its going to be more rum than nog. The candy cane shots should be popular. Same with the drunken jack frosties. And if I'm lucky, I will. More running means more tips, means more money to..." There she pauses, glancing aside as if forgetting that she's not supposed to say.

She keeps her hand in his, perhaps slightly flushed at holding hands with him, but trying to play it cool. She nods when he mentions his mom still being in Huckleberry. She's pretty sure she saw her once or twice. Glancing towards the car, she looks back to him with a smile, "You have a boat? I should warn you, I'm barely able to walk a straight line on dry land. I can't promise that I won't fall down a lot." There's a bit of excitement at the prospect, however, like she's eager to see this boat. Without even a breath of hesitation, Kass slides into the car's passenger seat and buckles herself in, turning to smile at him. "To ice cream and uninhibition potions!"

Them? Rhys is a fairly observant guy, and while the stopping short may be a bit more obviously notable, he does catch that odd little inflection. "The customers?" he asks; it's the only thing that makes some immediate sense, even if it seems a little dramatic. But false names are common in strip clubs, and why should they be confined to the dancers? What is suggests about the clientele is kind of iffy, though...

"Is it going to be good rum? 'cause if so, more rum than nog sounds like a thing I could suffer through. The others sound promising too, though. More money to what?' Anything, really. Pay rent, for one. But that doesn't generally get that kind of pause.

He's casual about the hand-holding thing, letting go easily when they reach the car to unlock it and open the passenger door. Not quite gentlemanly enough to also close it for her; instead he heads around to the driver's seat and slides in. "It's a houseboat," he says as he starts to drive, "it's not usually too wobbly when it's moored. I'll show you, sometime." A grin for the direction, and he agrees, "Onward! ...I wonder if an uninhibition potion also counts as a hibition potion. It's easier to say."

Everywhere in Gray Harbor counts as a short drive, and it's only a few minutes before they're parking near the docks. He points to one of the boats nearby, once they step out. "There she is. But having made all my ice cream disappear already... I'm thinking we mix together Sweet Retreat and the Twofer." It's not a long walk at all.

Kass doesn't notice the mistake until Rhys asks, making her hedge a little, shrugging and murmuring, "Some of the guys that show up there are dad's friends... its a little weird, you know?" Its plausible, and likely true, though also likely not what she was actually talking about. Her cheeks are a little too red, her gaze looking anywhere but him for a moment.

Laughing, she gives a shrug and offers, "Captain Morgan's. So I mean.. I guess it depends on what you mean by good? Its not well rum." The question of where her money is going brings another flush, "I"m, uh... I'm building up money to buy a.. an art loft? Somewhere I can.. I can go and paint and maybe.. maybe show some pieces..." She glances down at her hands where they've curled into her lap. "I like to paint.. acrylics, spraypaint.. I don't go in as much for oils and waters.. but I sketch a lot and... I don't know. I guess. I want to see what I can do with it."

She releases his hand once they reach the car, chuckling as he leaves the door open, though she pulls it shut by the time he's reached the driver's side. Still, it was nice of him to open it for her! "That actually sounds really fun. I have a friend, he has a boat, a sailer.. nothing huge, maybe 36 feet? Its fun but man do I have trouble keeping my feet on it. Apparently I was born without sea legs." His query of the uninhibition/hibition has her musing, "I don't know.. can you hibite something? Is that a word by itself? Maybe we should just call it a party potion?"

Enjoying the drive, no matter how quick it is, she hops out when they park and looks towards where he points. Grinning briefly, she glances towards him, "I'll agree, but you have to promise to show me the houseboat sometime. It sounds fun! Is it really like a whole house on top of a boat? Can you take it out like you would a regular boat?"

A sidelong look suggests Rhys might not be wholly convinced about that explanation, but... well, it is plausible, and likely true, and if she really doesn't want to talk about what she isn't talking about, this is kind of a new reunion to be getting really nosy and pushy about it.

The rum gets a 'so-so' sort of head movement, but the loft, that's interesting. "Where're you looking?" he asks, "Are you planning to live there too, or just... a room with good light to paint stuff in? How much does that generally run?" It sounds like it's caught his interest specifically, not just the art itself, though that does also get, "What kind of things do you paint?"

"I think hibit probably wasn't a word, but it is now," he decides, "like, the party got out of hand when everyone got way too hibited and decided to streak the police station. Anyway, 'hibition' sounds way more mystical than 'party'."

The boat he points to looks... pretty boaty, really. Taller, roomy-looking, but definitely more like a boat than the floating-building variety. "She sails like a normal boat, yeah," he confirms, "Technically, I could sail her across the sea. But it'd take a while. Someday I might take her travelling, though." And he leads the way down to the boardwalk. "Ice cream first," he suggests, "I think we can get away with that at the bar easier than drinks at the ice cream store."

Warming up to the topic of the loft space, Kass flashes a grin and shakes her head, "I'm not sure yet. I've been pricing places all over town, but so far the only places that have loft space are downtown and Bayside. I keep hearing bad things about Bayside these days so I'm not sure if I should be looking there. And downtown is crazy expensive for loft space. Bayside definitely has the better space, though. I found a nice loft, lots of light, sort of industrial..." Pursing up her lips, she shrugs, "I don't know if I'll live there. Part of me wants to but... part of me doesn't want to live somewhere if I'm going to be opening it to the public. Keep workspace and living space separate, you know?"

When he asks what she paints, she chuckles, "Walls, mostly. Warehouses. Shopfronts. Sidewalks. I do a lot of abstracts, mostly. Art is my outlet, my creativity. I like to let it flow free and go where it wants. Sometimes I do creatures, things from dreams.. or nightmares. Just depends on the mood I'm in when I paint."

On the subject of 'hibit', Kass lets out a laugh and gives a nod, "You've won me over with your argument. Hibit it is. Hibition potions of the first caliber to be ingested! But hopefully we won't streak the police station. With my record, they'd end up tossing me straight back into..." She pauses, then just trails off and clears her throat.

"I'd like to travel at some point. Maybe one day, if my art takes off, I can afford to travel and see other places than just.. Gray Harbor." Kass glances towards him and smiles, "I definitely want to check out the houseboat sometime, though. It sounds really interesting. But yes, ice cream first!" She grins and takes his hand again, starting towards the ice cream parlor, taking the lead with a grin.

"Kinda surprised it's more expensive downtown than in Bayside," Rhys says thoughtfully. I wouldn't think it's worse than anywhere else in town. I mean, it's not like Huckleberry and Elm are known for being the safest places in the city, right? Bad things getting said all the time. If you found a good place, how bad's what you're hearing to rule it out?"

The downsides of living in the same place get a nod, still as though he's thinking, but he grins again when she answers the question. "Gonna be tricky fitting those in your loft," he notes, "...well, except the walls, but there's only so many of those in a single loft. Got anything painted up anywhere around I should go take a look at?" He takes a glance around as they walk, as though something might make itself known even now, but of course nothing obvious jumps right out without being indicated.

He looks quite and probably intentionally pleased by her agreement on the general wordness of hibition, but the trailing off of course catches his attention, head tilting as he asks, "What've you been up to to get a record?" The tone's purely curious, no obvious judgement in it. Then again, he's friends with Joey, and she might or might not have ever heard rumours Rhys's stepfather might have been involved in... something or other. Where exactly she'd get tossed, that part he doesn't ask.

"...but yeah, someday: travel. For the sake of travel, I mean. Just to see places. And I'll definitely give you a tour if you like. You know, when you've got a spare five minutes." Another grin, then, and he follows along into the ice cream parlor. Ice cream first.

"I'm not. Not really. Downtown of a city is where you'll see most of the business congregate, so any sort of residential, or mixed residential and business space tends to go for a premium." Kass spouts out that small economics factoid, then pauses as if she's not sure where that came from before shrugging and moving right along. "I've been hearing some people got killed in Bayside. Death of any sort isn't great for property values.. but when you add in homicide? Something that could have gone for big bucks is suddenly dirt cheap. Nobody wants to live in a 'murder house'."

Chuckling at the joke about her preferred workspace, she grins at the request and digs out her phone once more. Opening the camera and jumping over to an album. She flips through it a second, then hands it to him. "Here. There's not a ton yet, I just got back a few months ago. But I've been liking where the art has been taking me. Well, mostly. Some stuff ends up being all Velvet Buzzsaw and creepy.. but even that can move people." The album starts with a corrugated tin wall once painted a deep navy blue but faded and chipped over the years. She's turned it into a night sky with a huge round moon, and the sky is full of.. butterflies. Blue butterflies that all seem to be carrying people on their backs. The next is a series of 3D sidewalk chalk drawings. Perspective sketches where the drawing looks like its about ready to pop up into the real world. After that is more wall tagging, seascapes, skyscapes, bright and bold colors used in sweeping shapes, like music taking physical form. Then a series of pencil and paper sketches. These are less pretty and more scary. Dark shadows, figures peeling away from them, reaching menacing hands towards the viewer. Monsters that don't exist. Always with a dreamlike tone to them.

She glances over at him, at his question, then back down. "Not a.. well.. I've.. I've been at the asylum. For.. well, since the last time you saw me." Ten years. Locked up and away from the world in a place for 'crazy' people. She lets out a breath and shakes her head, "I can barely remember my time there, you know? It all.. blurs together." She shrugs and glances back at him, "But. I've been released. With a string of diagnoses, a pocketful of prescriptions, and a court-appointed psychologist that I visit twice a month." Watching him, maybe waiting for him to 'suddenly remember something else' he had to do elsewhere, or some other polite way of escaping from the crazy chick.

"And yeah, that's exactly it. Travel to travel.. just to see places. To go.. anywhere else."

"Well, yeah, but Bayside is our most expensive area, always has been. It'd take a hell of a lot of bad shit exclusively in that area to hurt the property values enough that they should drop below. Downtown's got good proximity and less housing stock, but it doesn't have the square footage or cachet. Or the views." That last gets a sweeping gesture toward the bay with a fleeting grin. "Nothing on Bayside is dirt cheap, including the dirt. Anyway, I heard there were a couple murders in the Apartments this summer, but that's about it. And one of the pizza places downtown exploded a few months ago too, which isn't great for neighbouring property values. So if you found something affordable on Bayside? Figure out why or snap it up or both, I say."

Rhys accepts the phone when it's handed to him, and breaks into a grin again when he sees the butterflies on the screen. A flick of fingertips to move to the 3D chalk art, which gets an extremely soft, low whistle. The perspective is impressive, it would seem. He manages to walk while still focusing mostly on the images he's perusing, taking a proper look at them and even zooming in a bit here and there. Coordinated! The seascapes and skyscapes and the bursts of colour make him smile; it dims a bit when he gets to the sketches. Those get a different sort of regard, but not hurried through. Is his walking pace a fraction slower? Hard to be entirely certain. "You're good," he says, when he's finished studying the last one, and he's offering the phone back. "I mean, art's not my area of expertise or anything, but from a lay point of view? Definitely good." A pause. "Would it still feel right if you painted on a big canvas or, I dunno, a big piece of drywall or something? Seems easier to get into a gallery or something than an actual wall or sidewalk. But is the location part of the work?"

The mention of an asylum does raise his brows. There were rumours, probably. But there were also rumours Gina Castro was legit a witch and cursed the school mascot into a coma, and that one most likely wasn't true. "How come?" he asks, 'cause that seems like the really relevant question here. That and, "Must be doing a lot better, if you're back?" If he's bothered, rather than just curious, he does an impressive job of not letting on.

"And when you do get to travel, what places do you want to see? Which anywheres?"

Kass watches him as she walks, listening to him talk and apparently managing to not trip over anything by sheer virtue of having amazing peripheral vision. Paranoia can work for you sometimes, it would seem. It also helps that they're moving at just a normal pace and not rushing around. Nodding, she glances around the area and smiles, "I do like the area. There's a lot here. I still don't know if I would live where I work, though. It just seems like it would cause a lot of problems." She smiles briefly, "That said, if my loft happens to give an excellent view to the harbor and allows me to ogle certain redheads on certain boats.. I mean.. I couldn't very well complain, could I?" She doesn't even blush that much this time.. progress!

Watching him flip through her art, though, now that's the real treat. She gets a huge kick out of watching his expressions as he moves from one picture to the other, glancing down now and then to see which pictures provoke which reactions. She doesn't have to look when he gets to the sketches though. She knows those ones. And apparently feels compelled to offer explanation, "I have bad Dreams... a lot. All sorts of monsters come springing out. I don't always remember them until I find myself spacing out and sketching then suddenly bam... there it is. And I remember." Taking the phone back, she tucks it away again and grins, "Most of my art can be done on a canvas or something. Walls, floors, those are convenient. The chalk is harder to do indoors just because perspective art is done best when there's things around it to play off of. When its just walls around you, its harder to make that illusion."

The Question. She's known it would be coming, sooner or later. Letting out a breath, she murmurs, "My parents.. they... they weren't going to let me go to the dance, said we couldn't afford a dress and shoes, that I was doing too bad in school... that I didn't deserve to go. And.. something snapped. I snapped. And.. I hurt them. Badly. They ended up in the hospital. My dad had me Baker Acted and signed the papers for me to go to the asylum." She grips her arms and chafes her hands up and down her limbs, almost hugging herself. "I mean, I still have a laundry list of diagnoses... a bunch of prescriptions.. a court-appointed psychologist... but yeah. I haven't snapped and beaten anyone. That big-nosed asshole who runs the car shop comes close, though." She glances over at him and makes a lame attempt at easing the tension, "I really wanted to go to that dance."

His next question is easier to answer. She smiles and answers, "Africa. Asia. Ireland. Germany. People travel and they want to go to tourist spots. I want to go and see places. People. I want to see tribal art in the Serengeti and check out old castles in Europe, wander the plains of Mongolia or see the fey places of Ireland..." Kass smiles at him, looking excited, "I want to see the places where the tourists don't go." Then she's clearing her throat and flushing slightly, "What about you? Where would you travel?"

"I'll be sure to lie out on the deck sunbathing more often," Rhys says solemnly, and with a brief glance to the sky, "...or I guess snowbathing, if the forecast's right. Though shivering desperately might not be my best look." Another quick grin, before the images have his attention, and when he hands it back, he considers her remarks for a moment, with a small nod. "You could add stuff in to play off, I guess," he muses, "but it wouldn't be quite the same, I guess."

And, yes, it was probably inevitable The Question would show up sooner or later. Maybe it's better to get it over with sooner, so it's not hanging over things? But there it is, either way. His brow furrows a little at the start of it, and there's an actual frown when she hits 'didn't deserve to go'. It remains for the rest of the 'why', though the overall expression goes more thoughtful. "That's a hell of a tantrum," he observes, fairly evenly considering, and then one side of his mouth curls upward wryly as he adds, "I really wanted to go to that dance too." He'll go with her attempt to lighten things a bit. "What kind of diagnoses? And what'd the mechanic do to incur your wrath, considering you don't have a car?" He keeps that fairly light in tone (if not necessarily content) as well.

"Far's travel... Wales, for one. See the land of my forebears." A pause, and a small version of the grin, "Or foredragons, whatever. The parts of the U.S. I haven't seen yet, which honestly, is still most of it. Somewhere I can see the aurora borealis, someday. I really do kinda want to just sail around and go anywhere I can find, though I gotta get a lot better at actually sailing before I try something like that. At least if I'm intending to get back. Which I am." Another grin, more the usual size. "I want to see places tourists don't usually go, but really I want to see a bunch of the places they do, too. Like, amusement parks, definitely touristy. But still fun. And museums are interesting."

Chuckling lightly, she turns a grin towards him, "I could always help to warm you up.." She seems blithely unaware of the double-entendre for long moment, the young woman does seem to run to warmer temperatures than most, and she seemed to be hinting at something else entirely. But when it creeps in what she said, the crimson bursts across her face and her eyes widen. Groaning, Kass claps her hands to her face as she mutters to herself under her breath. Letting out a low breath, she looks back to him and shakes her head, "I will probably still do the 3D art on the sidewalks when it strikes me. Stuff like that is more fun out in public anyways."

Chewing on her lower lip as the conversation takes that curve back to the serious and her past, she gives a small nod and mumbles something along the lines of, "Things had been going wrong for a long time it just... that was the last straw... I couldn't. I couldn't stop myself. I couldn't stop being so angry at them." Then she's looking back up at him, wincing at the follow-up question, though she answers him honestly, "Panic Disorder, Bipolar Disorder, PTSD, Oppositional Defiant Disorder that turned to Borderline Personality Disorder as I became an adult, and Intermittent Explosive Disorder..." She flickers a brief smile towards him before offering, "At least it means I get all the good drugs..." Her expression goes shuttered and she glances away, "I was hitting a real low point, I reached out to the only person that happened to be around at the moment.. and rather than try to help, he just shoved me deeper into the bedrock. Reminded me that I can't rely on anyone and that I am completely on my own. Pretty much the exact opposite of what I needed." She shrugs sharply and shakes her head, "That guy can go fuck himself."

When he mentions his travel plans, she smiles briefly and glances back to him, "Amusement parks do sound fun. Closest I ever got was the Ferris Wheel out by the boardwalk." Letting out a breath, she glances at him, "You like the aurora borealis?" Her eyes turn towards the middle distance, thinking, perhaps even plotting. But then she's glancing back to him and nodding, "Museums are definitely interesting. I'd love to visit all the truly famous art museums of the world... " His grin draws out her own and she nudges him lightly, "Well if you get to that point, maybe you'll take me along with you so we can both travel? I'm pretty handy to have around, good at fixing things."

"Could you now." Rhys is not unaware of the double entendre, no; might not even have been a decade ago, the last time they really talked. No blush on his part, and the tone and grin both suggest teasing rather than taking it seriously, but he's not going to be gentlemanly enough to pretend she didn't say it. Sorry, obviously not sorry.

He doesn't tease any further about it, though, even if he continues grinning. "Still doing the sidewalk art sounds good. Fun, it's the right venue for it, and in a way it's like an advertisement for your other work, too. Catch the attention of people who aren't dropping by galleries or your loft yet." He looks thoughtful again, like he's turning something over in his head, though it gets a faint headshake of dismissal as the conversation moves on.

"Intermittent Explosive Disorder has the best name," he observes, "Makes it sound like fireworks. Though I figure none of 'em are exactly a good time. If you're out, though, the drugs must be working, yeah?" That's how that works, right? And possibly important to know, particularly if boat-sized spaces might be involved someday! The remark about not being able to rely on anyone gets a sympathetic touch to her upper arm, though he doesn't actually say anything as to the truthfulness of it either way. "Well. That's fairly shitty," is what he does say, and there's a step or two of silence before, "Seems like you found your way to climb back out anyway, though?"

He flips a hand over and sort of spreads it out when she says the amusement parks sound fun; with the expression, it seems likely to translate to something in the general family of I know, right? even if it isn't actually said. "The Ferris wheel's not bad," he says, "but I want some roller coasters and big-ass water slides. All that kind of stuff at Disneyland or Disney World and the like. It really does sound fun. And, well, I like the pictures and videos I've seen of the aurora borealis. It looks like it must be amazing to see full size, actually above you."

Something about what he was just saying rings a bell, fairly clearly; there's a definite 'oh!' in expression, albeit not aloud, and he reaches into his pocket for his phone again, poking at it as he continues. "Art museums are cool. But also history and science ones, and the really weird ones for like... bottles and pencils and just stuff you'd think, why? Partly 'cause it makes me wonder: why?" A grin. "And we can see about maybe some joint travel when the time comes, but I just realised considering what we were talking about earlier, I've got a thing to show you. If you haven't seen it yet." Another tap or two, and he hands the phone over, "Here."

There's a youtube video cued up on it:
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Drawing in a deep breath, Kass lifts her chin and, despite the blush still spreading across her cheeks, she gives a firm nod. "Yeah. I could." She then sticks her tongue out at him and adds, "But you have to ask me nicely. I don't do it for just anyone." There's still something there that suggests she's not quite talking about what most would think she is.

Nodding, she chuckles, "The sidewalk art is fun. Also time-consuming, and depending on who's around, difficult. Some people are just assholes and they walk right over it before its even done, smear and scuff the chalk all up." Letting out tsk, she shrugs and smiles, "Maybe the building owner will let me 'decorate' the side of the building where the outside stairway to the loft is if I offer to paint it over fresh whenever my lease is up. Then I can do stuff on the wall of the building and incorporate the stairway."

Clearing her throat, Kass gives a small shrug, "The worst part of it all is not really remembering any of it. Its like.. you're so heavily drugged that its all a fog? So I lost the last ten years of my life." She glances towards him, that embarrassed look on her face as she murmurs, "The way my memory works? That last conversation we had? That was like.. six months ago. I don't remember the last ten years almost at all. I get flashes here and there but nothing.. nothing concrete. I have a high school diploma that I don't remember earning. I know things, but I don't remember how or where I learned them." The question of the medications earns a small nod, "I'm much more in control now. They gave me a card for the medical marijuana? So anytime I start getting stressed or feeling panicky.. I just take a sativa and let it go. And they put me on lithium for the BPD, which means I get to eat junk food more often because you can't let your sodium levels get too low while taking it. I also have to drink more water for it but.. not really a hardship there."

On the subject of her hitting bedrock, she pauses, considering something before she murmurs, "Lets say I've more.. accepted where I'm at. Its like.. its like being stuck at the bottom of a tunnel, only you didn't dig down there. That's where you started. And you can see the people digging all around you and you can talk to them but they don't really respond? They just sorta... look at you for a little bit. Like a zoo animal. Then they go on their way." She shrugs and adds, "After awhile you just kinda.. get used to it. Its why They don't bother me anymore. Even if They come for me.. its still a change."

She glances over at him and chuckles, "Don't know that they'd let me into Disney World or Disneyland... but I wouldn't mind checking out some roller coasters or water slides or even just some of those other rides... like some of the 3-D ones?" Then something he said provokes a grin, "You mean like those museums of Americana? World's largest ball of string and all that?" She chews on her lower lip for a moment and glances at him, "But I wouldn't mind seeing the aurora borealis. Like an art show in the sky. Just all the lights and colors... maybe I'll trek up to Fairbanks at some point to see it." Then he's offering up a video and she looks down at his phone, letting out a laugh when the video starts to play. "No way. Weezer? That is the best!! Oh, and they even did the sketch style!!"

"I don't ask nicely for just anyone," Rhys retorts, perfectly happy to continue teasing her; the grin shifts into a smaller, wickeder near-smirk for the purpose, a brow arching, then breaks free again. Curiosity has him sacrificing the fun of seeing whether playing things that way might get the cute blush spreading farther, and he acknowledges that little implication that she doesn't have the obvious in mind: "All right, how would you go about doing it, then? So I know whether I ought to ask nice."

People smearing art-in-progress is not nice, however, and he shakes his head. "Do you use a fixative or anything? I'd be real tempted to 'accidentally' spray it on their shoes when they do that." Not claiming it'd be wise, mind. Just that he'd be tempted. "The idea of painting on the building's cool, though. You might need to check with city hall, see what the rules are on that. Some people get real uptight about how anything even a little unusual's going to magically tank their property values. But if you can get away with it? It'd probably look great. And definitely get people's attention for your other work."

The idea that their last conversation was basically the equivalent of six months ago for her has him giving her a sidelong look, considering. The rest he seems able to take more or less in stride so far, but that bit... leads to questions. Many questions. But also, "Well, that really sucks." A couple quiet steps as they near their destination. "Do you feel 23 or do you feel thirteen? I think I probably changed a decent bit, the last ten years. I dunno how much of that there'd be if I didn't remember it." A considering pause. "Most of it."

For now, at least, the part about the people and the tunnels just gets a nod. Thoughtful, but just a nod. "Why wouldn't they let you into the Disney things? Pretty sure all you need's money for that. And clothing that won't traumatize children or prissy adults. But yeah, I definitely want to check out the 3-D rides. Actually, I'd be kind of impressed to find any that weren't technically 3-D, I wonder if it'd count as false advertising if something like the Ferris wheel claimed to be a 3-D ride? But-- the ones using video that way." A nod, acknowledging that's the kind she meant, of course. "I would definitely go take a look at the world's largest ball of string. Think they let people climb it? Probably too worried it'd get broken, but it'd be an interesting thing to be able to say you did."

The bit about the northern lights gets no verbal comment this time, but it does get a smile, and a flicker of a skyward glance. They're in agreement on that, it would seem. And on the video; the smile widens as she watches it, and as he takes in the appreciation of it. "Seemed important," he says, pleased, and opens the door to the ice cream shop, gesturing her on in.

That cute blush does indeed spread father at the sight of that wickeder near-smirk, her eyes quickly dropping away then almost immediately flying right back to him. Curiosity wars with uncertainty on her face and she bites her lip and lets out a small breath. Clearing her throat, Kass glances to him again and murmurs, "You're not the only one with wizard-y powers, Rhys. But an ice cream parlor isn't the best place to be showing those off. I don't want to end up back in the asylum..."

She gives a small shake of her head and glances towards him, "No fixative, not on public sidewalks. Its just something temporary for people to enjoy while its there then it goes away in a few days." She chuckles though and nods, "I already checked cause I don't want to get put in jail either. As long as I'm not displaying anything lewd or 'radical'.. I'm okay. And I was thinking of trying to do something that would be changeable. So it would keep drawing people back in."

Blinking, that question has her looking towards him once more. "Oh. No. Not... not thirteen. I just... its like.. its like I've lived a life the last ten years but I don't remember it. Like.. having amnesia. I know things, I feel things.. but I don't know how or why. I get flashes of it occasionally. Sometimes a brief picture, sometimes just a scent or a sensation. I'm told they had me heavily sedated at some points and that its possible that its a side effect of it.... Dr. Hines thinks its a psychological block? That I don't want to remember what I was doing then. I think she's full of shit, but that's just me."

"I don't know if I'd be allowed because of my... issues. Crowds are not great for me, the bigger the crowd, the bigger the chance that I freak out and do something. At least, that's the idea. I don't like crowds, but... I deal with it. I have to, I can't not work because I don't like crowds. Its not like the state is paying my rent or anything." Kass lifts a shrug and shakes her head, arms folding just beneath her chest as she glances towards him with a brief grin, "I'd help you climb it. Seems like it would be fun to stand on top of it."

She enters the ice cream shop with a bit of a smile and glances over at him, "It definitely was. That was awesome." Then she slips past him and into the chillier air, glancing around as she waits for Rhys to catch up, then heads towards the counter to look over all the flavors.

Cute blush is go! Rhys can't not grin at that, and it's still a little wicked, even if he's decided to behave for the sake of curiosity. And maybe kindness? ...maybe. "Well, no, I guess warming-up powers aren't idea in an ice cream parlor," he allows, "but I can't say I'm not intrigued." Okay, mostly behave. Still, the asylum addition keeps things a bit more thoughtful.

"Probably better. Give in to the temptation to spray assholes with fixative and it'll probably turn out to be illegal," he sighs, "there's no justice in this world." Mostly a joke, surely. He's not quite into bureaucracy enough to feel like going any deeper into discussions of what firmness of grip the town's planning commission might be inclined to exert on various parts of the city's appearance; just a nod to the idea of it being changeable, and, "I'd kinda expect you'd want to mess with it periodically. More attention to it, and you know... artists." A grin.

It is, let's be honest, a relief that the lack of memories doesn't leave her in a spot as though they'd never happened at all, even if the actual situation's not great either. "Well, if it was shitty enough for your mind to block it out that hard, gotta think it'd have a reason for it," he says, "so I dunno, might rather think it's the sedation. I know I've read some kinds of anesthesia really just make you not remember things, so... could be similar? But that still sucks. ...anyway, if you wouldn't want to hit Disney because of the crowds, that's one thing, but how're they gonna know any of that? You don't have to give 'em a medical history for a ticket. If you want to go, you can definitely go." There's a tiny bit of 'you SHALL go to the ball, Cinderella!' in that, like really, how dare the world potentially deprive her of roller coasters and 3D video based rides?

The smaller roadside attraction thoughts make him grin again, and he follows her into the shop. "It would definitely be fun," he agrees, following to the counter. "Now... I say we order ridiculously large sundaes so we don't have to come back while we're imbibing our potions," he says, and for at least his part, goes on to do precisely that.

And that cute blush stays ash he leads her towards the counter and its flavors of ice creams and so many options! Ridiculously large sundaes are ordered so they can take them along for the imbibing of potions without needing to return for more. Put into neat little to-go containers that have her marvelling at them as they are carried back out into the storm. Where he leads? Tonight, she follows. She may not always, but she does now. To the next stop for uninhibition potions and the magic of making said sundaes disappear! She tries to keep the conversation lighter from that point, talking about music, and movies. Asking him about the things he likes. And at the end of the night, with that cute little blush back on her cheeks, she shyly requests a ride home. She doesn't drive. Never learned, apparently. And he's directed towards Huckleberry mobile homes, space 43. When parked, cheeks still that adorable pink, she offers a nightcap. Whether he accepts or declines, before she exits the car, she musters up her courage and quickly brushes a kiss across the corner of his mouth. A brief touch of soft lips, almost gone before its even felt, and she's darting out of the car and up to her door, unlocking it and swinging it open to step inside. Will he stay? Or go?

Lighter is good. Lighter, they can do, particularly once the potions get involved. And, indeed, Rhys really is good at making ice cream disappear, and if he isn't necessarily making the potions himself, he does find them some pretty good ones. Is it entirely wise for him to drive afterward? Well, whatever calculations he makes about it come out to giving her that ride home when she asks, and the trip is entirely uneventful, so his math must have been all right.

The kiss both is and is not a surprise -- there's that sense of something, in the mustering of courage, but it still draws a smile and bright breath of a laugh that owe something to the unexpected, even if not wholly. And as the bards once sang, if he stays, there will be trouble. But if he goes, it will be double. Or maybe it's got nothing to do with music whatsoever, this time. Either way, he stays.

Once he's inside, Kass closes the door behind him. The trailer is... not what you might expect from the inside of a trailer. Despite the age of the thing, everything in it looks to be brand-new, even the things that are clearly old. The second is the coloring. The living room has been painted up with an Egyptian theme, a base of sand color with texturing done and some dry-brushed gold and bronze to make it shimmer. Heiroglyphics painted painstakingly onto the walls. Pyramids painted on the walls, the are surrounding each window made to look like an oasis. And the carpet is that same sandy brown. The ceiling however, is a clear sky blue with the ceiling fixture looking like the sun/moon. There's no true furniture either, some low tables, but mostly its cushions and pillows and throw blankets and beanbag chairs. Very bohemian decorating. The kitchen looks straight out of a fifties diner, done in black and white checks in the flooring and backsplash, with the cupboards painted a bright turquoise and hand-drawn and painted band logos across each cabinet door. The appliances all look very retro but seem in excellent condition. The hallway that leads towards the back looks like a rainbow, the colors splashed across ceilings, walls, even the carpet. The door to the bedroom is shut.

Kass steps out of her Chuck Taylor's, perhaps a little looser now that she's had a few 'uninhibition potions', glancing over at him with a smile, tucking a lock of hair behind one ear. "I'm really glad you stayed, Rhys. I... its been... okay, so I've never actually invited a guy in, and that was actually my first date. But.. it was fun. And I'm really glad we ran into each other." She moves towards the kitchen, "Would you like a drink? I've got some pretty good bourbon hiding away..." She pauses, then looks back at him, "Tell me about yourself, too. I want to know what you've been up to since... ten years ago. You had my whole sordid story, time to spill the beans and fill me in."

Well, it's not what Rhys expects from his experience of trailers -- and the one he mostly grew up in is only a couple rows away. His mother's probably in it even now. It's always been kept as well as she could manage, but very little of it looks brand new. And none of it looks Egyptian, but that aspect at least is -- well, still surprising, but it fits. Artist, after all. And from the expression as he takes it in, it's delightful, grin spreading back into place as he looks about, a few steps in. "Nice," he remarks as he takes it in, and with a glance at her shedding of shoes, follows suit, leaning down to unfasten them.

"How'd you manage to end up with everything in this kind of shape?" he asks, annoyingly observant, "Your kitchen looks more untouched than mine." Another grin, teasing, and he straightens, stepping out in sock feet to follow her. "Like what you did with it all. And bourbon sounds great." Definitely things to be said for hibition potions; that one's welcome too.

He picks a counter that seems out of the way to lean against, and watches her. "Really never?" he asks, "...and really first?" It shouldn't be hard to believe with what she's said, but it's still, well, unusual. "Glad it was fun, then. Hate to have you wait this long and have it be a disappointment." The smile's smaller, there. "And I'm glad we did, too. Since ten years ago? Made it through the rest of high school, for starters. 'bout the same way I made it through the parts before that, no surprises." Involved in various things but not deeply in any, occasional fights, Bs when he could've made As. A tiny pause. "Stepfather disappeared, about... a year after you left? Still dunno where, no one ever heard from the asshole again." It's as casual as if it were a change in what colour the trailer'd been painted, a particularly low-key sort of 'good riddance'.

"Really short version, though: joined the Army, went to college, came back and took over managing the Firefly. And here I am. It's one of those stories ripe for Hollywood, if you don't like particularly exciting movies."

Kass nods and gets the bourbon down from the cupboard, along with a pair of funky rocks glasses that look like they were carved from a semi-translucent crystal or stone. She pours each of them a few fingers in their respective glasses, corking the bottle and turning around with a glass in each hand, giving him choice of which one he wants. "I'm actually pretty handy, so fixing things up wasn't hard. And thanks, I'm a terrible cook so it doesn't really see much use, just sits here and looks cool." She sips from her glass, enjoying the burn of the bourbon, and moves around the counter, joining him in the living room side.

"Would you like to sit? I know there's not much int he way of furniture, but I've been kinda on a budget and it was either couches and chairs or... well, painting supplies." She shrugs and smiles, apparently unconcerned with the decision she made. Joining him, she nudges her shoulder against his and glances sidelong at him, "Guess which won?"

Her head turns to watch him as she listens, her head canting a touch to one side with a smile. That smile fades when he mentions his step-father disappearing, brows drawing together though she doesn't offer condolences. What she does remark on is, "Yup. First date. Started when we left the Gym. Been going pretty good so far. I even got to kiss the guy." Her smile turns briefly to a grin and she flushes that cute pink color. But then he's winding down and she clucks her tongue. "Sounds great to me. I could stand a little less excitement in my life. I'd love to have a slice of your life for a bit."

Pausing, she takes another sip, then looks towards him again, "So what about you? How have you been? Are you... seeing anyone?" Totally smooth, Hughes. He's surely not going to notice that slipped right in there.

"I should sweet-talk you into fixing mine up. Find paints to dangle in your general direction until you agree, maybe. I'm a pretty crap cook too, but I haven't burnt it down yet. And I can make pancakes." Rhys just accepts the closer of the two offered glasses, then pauses. "Should've made more of a production of that. Gotta keep it unpredictable for the day I'm offered two cups and one's poisoned. Can't make it too easy for 'em." It's far too cheerful to be a real worry, and there's definitely no capital T on that abbreviated 'them'. Like it's not even Gray Harbor!

He nods at the invitation to sit, taking a sip and giving the glass an approving look as he gives her shoulder a light bump in return, then straightens up to follow her toward... a sitting thing. "I'll take a wild guess and go with painting supplies. But I can't say it looks like a bad choice." No sign of wanting condolences, and the smile widens again when she remarks on the date. "Play your cards right and you might get to again," he teases. "If you do take a slice, I recommend part of college. Look for early-mid semester."

Of course he won't notice at all. It's coincidence that he tilts his head a little and takes another sip. "I've been pretty good, really. Not bad at all lately. And-- depends how you mean it, I guess." Like he's just getting around to thinking that over now. "I'm not seeing anyone exclusively." A sidelong glance in return. "You?"

"I could. I could even give you some hints on which paints to look for if you were so inclined," she offers with a smile, lifting a brow at his boast of pancakes. "I can make bacon. Sounds like between us we have breakfast!" Was that an invitation? Perhaps, she moves with him and settles in on one of the cushions, sitting cross-legged as she glances his way. "We should try it sometime. Breakfast, I mean."

Smiling at him, she sips from her bourbon again and lets out a happy little sigh over the taste. Looking towards Rhys, she grins briefly, "Oh? What do you do for the second date? Its going to be hard to top ice cream and wizardry. I'll warn you, I can't wear heels. I've tried. They tried to put me in heels at the club. It doesn't work, I keep tripping." She shrugs lightly and glances down at her glass. "I'd like to go again. I don't.. I don't get to have much fun. Not like this."

That blush comes rushing back to her cheeks and she shakes her head, "I'm not seeing anyone... not until tonight. Tonight I saw you." She flicks a glance his way and murmurs, "I wouldn't call it exclusive, though. But I'm hoping it will go somewhere fun." Her lips turn up into a smile and adds, "Maybe to breakfast. At least to start." She pauses and then glances down, the smile fading, "I'm sorry, I'm repeating myself. And.. sounding desperate." Letting out a breath, she mutters, "I wasn't great with people skills before and it looks like I've actively gotten worse." Lifting her shoulders, Kass looks towards Rhys and smiles faintly, "I'm in a strange position right now. Can I be... blunt?"

"Pancakes AND bacon? Well, we clearly need to make that happen," Rhys replies, so if it's an invitation, that's probably an acceptance. He settles down on the cushion nearest hers, then sits up a little and snags a couple more within reach, drawing them over so he can lean on his side on the first one, propped up by the others enough to watch her and to easily drink.

"Second date depends, but I don't require heels for anything. They do look nice, but generally speaking, I find broken ankles really bring down the mood. That's why I don't wear 'em myself." Sure, that's the only reason. "And since it's gonna be hard to top, I'm going to just claim I won't try so it won't be a disappointment, and if it IS better, it'll seem even more awesome. This is a plan that cannot fail, except maybe if I explain the trick. But I'd like it to go somewhere fun." A pause, and a return of the smile, "Maybe to breakfast. At least to start. You don't sound desperate, but yeah. Of course you can be blunt." He shifts position slightly, the better to clearly listen.

Nodding slowly, Kass reaches over to set the glass on a low table before shifting around to wrap her arms around her legs. She looks at him and glances to him, then away, then back again. "So, I don't know what you had expected... but I had always kinda figured that you were planning to get me in bed, after the dance, I mean. And, you know, I was cool with that. Like... I wanted to. You were really cute and you hung out with the same people I hung out with and you never judged when stuff was shitty at home... I really dug that." She pauses, just a beat, to watch him. "So anyways. This isn't then but... I still kinda want to. I mean, more than kinda. But I don't know if its bad to.. to try and.. to want to... to sleep with you. So soon? II can't say part of me isn't influenced by what I felt then, but I can say that its not the reason I want to. But I do. Want to. And I wanted you to know. " She shifts around to move up to her knees, her hands on her lap, "Would you.. stay the night?"

Rhys watches her, taking in the self-hug and the moving gaze; he doesn't yet put down his own glass, taking another sip as she get to talking. Her suppositions for post-dance plans get a not-quite-sheepish, half-amused upward lift of chin and eyes to study the ceiling for a second, a silent confirmation that teenage Rhys's hopes and intentions were perhaps less than entirely pure, yes. The smile in her little pause is a softer thing, though, and he does set the glass carefully aside as she goes on.

"I'll stay," he says, reaching over to touch and then take hold of one of her hands, "if you want me to. And there's nothing wrong with knowing what you want, or asking for it." A quick grin, one of the smaller ones, "Actually? I like that in a person." It's his turn to watch her for a beat. "...and for the record, I thought you were smart and sweet and creative and kind of unfairly hot, and I definitely would've tried." Slightly wry, that last bit.

He shifts up onto his knees as well, without releasing the hand, and once he's settled, gives it a gentle tug, leaning in a bit. "C'mere," he invites, and if she does, it must've been the right card-playing, because he kisses her, this time. It's aimed rather more directly than the one before.