2020-07-28 - The Epitome of Unfairness

Evening at the Jones house is surprisingly quiet. There are people home, but everyone's off doing their own thing, evidenced by lights on in upstairs rooms or sound coming from the other side of closed doors. Though the sun's already set, Sparrow's out back, sprawled out on a lounge chair in the oppressive heat of the midsummer night wearing a black-and-white striped bikini top and a pair of galaxy-dyed jean shorts. She has a cold beer near at hand, condensation dripping off the can, and there are surely more in the fridge. The night's leftovers haven't been put away yet, though, an assortment of homemade taquitos stacked on a plate for anyone and everyone to pick at. Really, the residents of 7 Oak are spoiled by Corey's cooking. Sparrow's almost certainly already had her fill. For the moment. Sparrow might have even used them as temptation when she invited Nicole over, assuring there were plenty of leftovers. And pie in the fridge. And beer. And company. Out back. Miss you. Please. ❤

Nicole was lured by the promise of taquitos and pie. She's an 'ok' cook, but that's just it. Just okay. Corey cooked food is on several higher levels of good. PLUS, she gets to see her best friend, so, win-win, really. before walking out back, she takes a moment to look around her surroundings, noting cars parked on the street, people walking in the neighborhood, etcetera. Joey's got her trained to be wary, be watchful, be safe. When she perceives the coast to be clear, she heads on back and calls out. "Miss you too, my favorite bird," so Sparrow can hear her voice before seeing her. She's wearing a casual pair of jean shorts with a tee shirt stolen from Joey's things. It's old, faded, and worn to a teasing thinness that makes the pale grey that much more pale. The graphic, also faded, says something about some gym somewhere. "Should I go grab my reward for coming then come back out? Or are we heading inside?"

"I mean," Sparrow begins, angling a lazy look over at Nicole and taking in the thinness of the tee and the length of her legs without the least little hint of shame or apology. When her eyes make her way back up to the top, she finishes, "Your reward for coming over is obviously me. Which you're definitely free to grab, but." She tips a look back toward the house without managing to actually see much below the second floor for the lack of actual effort. "It's prolly cooler inside if you want?" But she seems disinclined to move without any definite preference for indoors.

Nicole poses and winks at Sparrow then says, "well, you know... if I am ever so inclined. But, I thought we would save it for the wedding night." She smiles and says, "I'll grab the goods then come back out."

She heads into the house at a half jog and is gone for a few moments, not too long, before she emerges once more. She is carrying two beers, one of which she offers to Sparrow, assuming she might want another soon, and a plate with taquitos AND pie on it. She sits on the edge of Sparrow's lounger, balancing the plate on her lap. "So... how are you? How's Mac? Is she going to rebuild? How's your hunks? How's life? Tell me all the things," she says while popping open her own beer.

Sparrow gives her brows a playful waggle at the prospect of the wedding night which'll (almost certainly) never happen, eyes going happily half-lidded as she actually does put out a little bit of effort to watch her future wife head inside. By the time Nicole returns, she's sitting up, cross-legged, to provide plenty of space for seat-sharing. Or just a better position for conversation. The second beer is set down beside the first, the subtle reconfiguration of the condensation pattern suggesting some drinking was done while she was waiting.

"I was gonna ask you that," is her first answer to that line of inquiry, even if all questions might not equally apply. The easy humor she'd been wearing fades, though, marked with a subtle sinking of her shoulders. "Mac's getting through it, best I can tell. Doesn't want anyone knowing where she is or what she's up to, and I really can't blame her for that, given the givens. I can't even imagine what she's going through, losing everything like that, but. yeah. Getting through it." One shoulder lifts in a crooked shrug. "I'm alright too? I guess? I mean. My problems seem so small comparatively? But I'm pretty sure a couple of the guys I'm seeing are, like, deeply involved in this. One's all but told me. I don't wanna ask. The other's just--"

Sparrow makes a face and, as she does, looks Nicole directly in the eyes. Almost apologetically. Might as well get this part over with. "Do you know if Rhys is into some shady shit?"

Lifting a taquito for a bite after she gets settled, Nicole turns her eyes onto Sparrow. "Nice shorts. I love the galaxy thing." She smiles then and says, "but I beat you to it." When Sparrow's humor fades, Nicole's smile dims as well. It is some serious stuff spoken about after all. She's hungry though, she eats as she listens. Nodding along, yeah, Nicole can't blame Mac for hiding out. "I don't really know her. Ran into her once or twice but that's about it. But yeah... shit. Did she have insurance? If she needs help with anything, like, I can help." Sparrow knows Nicole has a bit of a talent with fixing up things and such. She listens more, eyes on her friend, mouth busy with chewing...

And then things get awkward.

Nicole lifts a hand, her fingers wiping at the corner of her mouth as if there is taquito there (there isn't). There is, however, a pause as she does so, perhaps to buy herself time... or perhaps she feels some phantom grease on her face. "Uh... like... shady how?" It is, after all, Gray Harbor... there are different levels and types of shady. "Like, um... have you asked him? Do you think he's involved in the fire?"

Sparrow nods for the question about insurance, noting quietly, "Some of which has already paid out, letting her replace some of what she lost," but it sounds like there's a whole lot more to go through. When one loses one's business and home in one fell swoop, there's gotta be a whole lot to untangle and recoup.

But they only linger in the safe space of Somebody Else's Problem for a little while, all too quickly careening toward more personal awkwardness. "What?" Her face scrunches up promptly at the concluding question from Nicole. "No. No. Definitely not." The perplexed expression which lingers for a while borders on accusatory. Like how could she think she might've meant that! She works through that jarring moment by reaching for her opened beer... even if she doesn't then drink, just fussing with the wet can between both hands. "No, just. I dunno. I don't wanna make things weird between us. I like him. Like." Serious face engaged. "A lot." A worrying amount, to judge by the weight of that look. "And I really don't wanna fuck shit up by having any way too strange conversations. Especially if I'm off-base. But if I can just, like. I dunno. Flag this detail as known and get it to stop itching at the back of my head? The ambiguity is awful."

Her gaze dips to her beer where she runs her thumb around the edge of the can, fussing idly. "I could prolly ask Joey or Cris, I know. But that means acknowledging their stuff. And just." Her shoulders come up as she talks. "Why? Why make things weird, right? It's just a bunch of little things. How much he already knew when we got talking. How close he is with Joey, which." She looks up again, seeking Nicole's eyes. "Don't get me wrong. I love him. Joey's one of the best people I know. I'm not saying there's anything wrong with the reputation he's got, but I know it comes from somewhere." With another shrug, she moves on. "Then there's the shootings. And how close Rhys has been to two of those. Coincidental on the surface, but. A lot of coincidence, ya know?" It looks like maybe she could keep on rambling for a while, but she stops herself, at least for a few seconds, long enough to finish off her beer.

Nicole has rarely held back from saying what is on her mind to Sparrow. Her vibrant friend is one of the people she feels comfortable with being brutally honest with. Blunt. But, she also tries to be a good friend and not a bitch about it. She listens intently to all Sparrow has to say, nodding along sometimes, watching her. She even stopped eating to pay better attention.

Lifting a finger to partly make a point, partly gesture with it as she talks to Sparrow, she says, "first... I could tell you, if there is something to tell. Or if Joey knew something, perhaps he could tell you, or if Cris knew anything, well perhaps he could tell you too. However...." She shakes her head. "It's not for us to tell, if there is something to tell. And if there is? It really shouldn't come from anyone but the one person you care about. In fact, I would go so far as to say the mere fact that you do like him so much is the exact reason why you should talk to him about your worries yourself. Like... look. I don't know much of anything really.... but like, when Joey and I... I mean, we had to stop dancing around the convo, you know? He had to say look, this is what and who I am.... and I had to know that, be accepting of that, and know what it was I was getting into. I think that is extremely important. And... I think you have reached a point where that conversation has to take place with you and Rhys."

"The thing is.... I think NOT having strange and awkward conversations when necessary is what fucks a relationship. If you can't just be forthright.... it's not a relationship worth worrying over." She shrugs then. "Like shit, it's troubling. Trust me, I know. I can't even go home right now because of what is going on.... but, my eyes are open. And man, if they weren't? If I chose to be oblivious and not talk to Joey about shit in the beginning? Do you know how big of a fucking target that would make me? I mean, I am now, but at least I know I am, and know to keep my head up... you know? I do not know everything. I know what I need to know... and that's all I require."

Nodding again she says, "talk to him."

Sparrow's expression shifts several time over the course of Nicole's answer, starting with a reserved resignation at the not-gonna-tell that she senses even before it's explicitly stated. Her nose crinkles at the first reason offered for why she should talk to Rhys directly, but that dissipates promptly when she shakes her head at the idea that she's worried about this. She tries to maintain some sort of understanding as she continues to listen, but her face pinches like something smells weird as Nicole goes on. There might be a few more headshakes. And then a bit of pensive silence after that closing instruction. And then, just...

"Nah."

She lets that hang for a few seconds, eyes unfocused as her head pivots in slow-motion denial, like maybe she's reconsidering that refusal. And coming to the same conclusion. "Nah. No. Nah. Sorry." After a brief scrunch of her nose, she refocuses and says, "I, uh. I've made a lot of things weird with a lot of people, and I'm really not looking to do that here. It's been, like. Seven months. And then some. No weird fights. No miscommunications. No awkwardness at all. It's fucking amazing. All the fun, all the comfort. And none of the trouble. Like. I would go so far as to say that maybe every bit of advice I offered in the past is bullshit and that avoiding weird conversations and certain words is totally the way to go because." She pauses, shoulders sinking as she audibly sighs. "This is perfect. Ya know? Just don't let the big feelings come out of my mouth and." Shrug. "Don't ask questions that don't need answers, so." Another shrug. "I'll just let it go. It's fine. Cuz, like. I'm not a target. No one notices me." Which earns a snort of a laugh and a reach for her second beer. "Weird, right? I'm peripheral enough to be impervious." With a sweeping gesture to the side, she adds, "Except for how so many people I care about are caught up in all of this." Frowning, she tilts in toward Nicole and asks seriously, "How're you holding up?"

'Nah', says Sparrow and Nicole arches a brow. 'Nah. No. Nah. Sorry,' she further says and Nicole geta a small smirk and shakes her head. She listens though, when Sparrow says why. However...

"It is all miscommunication if it isn't full communication... isn't it? It's not... real, if it's not complete." She holds her hand up, assuming that statement might make Sparrow angry, or at least get a rebuttal. "I mean... I get that what you feel is real. No denying that, but the relationship itself is superficial if you aren't both fully invested... and that means having those conversations when you need to." Her hand is still held aloft and she spreads her fingers a bit, giving it a slight bounce to emphasize her monologue. "However... if that is all you want, and that is what makes you happy? Then that's cool! If you don't want to be invested, then there is no reason to have those conversations. If it's just fun, then have fun. But if it really is on your mind... enough to ask me about it?" Her shoulders lift in a shrug, her hand going down to her beer. "I'm just saying.... Sometimes.... sometimes the big feelings have to come out of your mouth, if they are true and there is no denying them."

The beer is lifted for a drink then set down so she can lean towards Sparrow, her head lower than Sparrow's so she can look up at her with wide dark eyes. "Are you kidding? Not noticed? The world knows your name, bird. Just because you might not be a target does not mean you are not noticed. I notice the fuck out of you."

Sitting upright again she takes a deep breath then lets it out. "I'm... I mean, I'm good." She smirks a little, turning a bit more playful again. "When Joey said I should stay with him, that the trailer park isn't so safe right now... I teased him and said 'Joey Lee Kelly. Is this your way of asking me to move in with you?'" She laughs a little then. "I mean... it's hard, all of it is hard. But like... I knew the risks going in, you know?" Not all of them, Nicole. Not all of them. "And like... " Shrug. "Some things aside... I'm good, really. Mostly."

Sparrow isn't easy to anger, and heart-felt advice from her bestie sure as hell isn't gonna do the trick, but she does have a rebuttal ready when that hand goes up, her black eyebrows lifted all high and stern in evidence of the counterpoint on the tip of her tongue. It's held back behind a smirk as Nicole continues, those brows maintaining their lofted posture even though the whole tone of her expression has changed. "Funny," is all she offers in that few seconds it takes for Nicole to sip her beer, wry humor still hanging on her lips as she scrunches her nose so very cutely at the assurance that she is very much noticed.

When her friend straightens, she sinks back, reclining again without unfolding her legs, which would be a whole lot more awkward if the lounger's back wasn't at a fairly high angle to begin with. With a snort, she shares in the laughter over the moving-in joke, though the curiosity in her expression reads Well? like she's expecting some answer. In the end, she counters a, "Yeah no," for that last little bit, for the suggestion that risks were known. "What's happening now is not Grey Harbor normal. And you know our normal is very much not. But this isn't anything you coulda predicted. I doubt this is anything Joey anticipated. But." Huffing a quiet breath, she nods. "Yeah. I figured you'd be alright. Utterly unflappable." And there's that smirk again! "Except when it comes to loooove. Except not anymore. Cuz now, you're feeding my advice back to me. Way more articulately. That's not fair. And I don't like it. And I won't stand for it." The thought is punctuated by a raspberry, tongue stuck out to pbft right at Nicole. Nope. Not standing for it at all!

"What's funny?" Nicole asks. Granted, they are BOTH really good at giving advice and not taking it themselves... after all, have The Words come out of Nicole's mouth yet? Nope. She and Joey have been together for nine or ten months or so... and nope.

Noticing the questioning look on Sparrow's features, Nicole grins and shakes her head. "No, he wasn't actually asking me to move in with him." Pause. "I don't think... I mean, he hasn't said sell my trailer or anything to make it seem like a more permanent thing yet." The last of the taquitos is finished as she listens. "Well, no... this is not Gray Harbor normal, I suppose... It's not veiled shit, it's... shady shit. But what I meant was like... Joey is Joey. He's been to jail, I knew that. We talked about that because like, I left Geoff when he got busted... I knew that kind of risk. And honestly, maybe he didn't predict this specifically... but... like, he definitely worried about how his life might affect me."

"Pfft," Nicole chortles. "I am definitely not unflappable. I just....try to keep all my flapping to myself. No one needs to see me ugly cry or be petrified with fear. I just compartmentalize REALLY well. And...." Her cheeks go pink slightly when Sparrow talks about 'loooove' and she tries to cover up her reaction by rolling her eyes. Her tongue gets stuck out right back at Sparrow. "I mean, it's just evidence that we are both brilliant at other people's problems." She smiles then lifts a fork to dig into the pie on her plate. "Ultimately though, no matter what anyone says, no matter what we even tell ourselves in our heads... we just have to do what we feel is right. Except, sometimes, the moment decides for us.... Sometimes though, as soon as the moment decides for us, the moment moves on to other things."

Sparrow echoes that, "Yet," without any particular weight, drawing attention to the word without lending any expectation to it. After another swig of beer, she sets the bottle down, letting her arms laze limply against the armrests. That ease is minimally interrupted as her right shoulder rises in an uneven shrug as she teases, "You've got a type," about the clearly long list of criminals she's dated. She sputters out a bright, abrupt laugh at the prospect of private flapping, formerly happily half-lidded eyes going wide as she pictures... well, probably not ugly crying or petrification. "You know you can always flap with me, pretty. I'm a drummer. Flapping's some of what I do best."

With an eyeroll for the final volley of entirely sound advice, Sparrow tilts her head back and angles her attention skyward for the moment, the mellow blues promising more lovely days ahead, even if that's just a pleasant lie. "And sometimes nothing feels right because experience dictates that certain actions elicit unpredictable, unwanted results, and. Not doing anything is itchy, so." Shrug. "Inaction is easier. And the results are more consistent. Even if it's entirely contrary to my nature." Peeking down at Nicole, she ventures, "But maybe that's saying something, right? That I'm willing to not for the sake of keeping this going?" One brow quirks shallowly as if to ask how that sounds, if she's managed to justify her own bad advice sufficiently well. "Anyway. Thinking about taking Joey up on his job offer."

Having kind of barreled through the pie, because it was so darn delicious, Nicole leans over to set the plate down. "I do....mmm...." She began to protest indignantly, but then considers the VERY FEW actual "relationships" she has had in her life. "Yeah... okay... I guess I do. To be fair!" Her pointer finger is lifted in the air in judicious defense. "I did TRY to break the pattern but then... you know..." Slender shoulders lift in a helpless shrug. "Pancakes... and stuff." A mortified look passes over her face then and she playfully smacks Sparrow's leg. "I said Flapping! Not FAPPING!" Fanning at her face she shakes her head, laughing. "Dirty girl."

She watches as Sparrow tilts her head back, studying her friend. "Mm.... I mean... sometimes nothing feels right for one reason or another. But I am gonna point out that 'experience dictates' is false because experience usually means, 'so the experience I had with this completely other person showed me....' And... you know damn well, everyone is different. I mean fuck, experience dictates that I can't truly have a good female friend because most of the ones I had in the past sucked and were actually two-faced bitches. Or... experience dictates..." She stops. "Just... it's false. You know it is. Inaction is maybe easier, but.... it is also emptier." She shakes her head. "In my opinion? All it is saying is you are gonna keep it under the surface where it will eat and eat and eat at your skin, making you even itchier, until it explodes... all for the sake of keeping the status quo going. And, when have you ever been happy being status quo? AND.... since it is already there in your mind, it is going to change things whether or not you voice it, because you are gonna wonder... and that will color things.. but not like, shiny happy colors. Like, puke green and baby diaper brown colors...."

"But, i am glad you are taking up the job at the gym. Means I get to see you easier... means I know where my people are."

Does Sparrow look proud at the mention of pancakes? Maybe just a little, but it's very subdued when compared to the wide-eyed amusement which answers Nicole's assumption about where her mind went. "I was just picturing you--" Hands tuck in under her arms, elbows jutting out, as she, well, flaps her arms like a chicken. "--flapping." Her head gets a little wobble as her arms drop back down and she mutters, "But, I mean. That doesn't sound bad either." She punctuates that thought with a crooked grin and a quick wink, comfortably owning the offered title.

Her nose crinkles at the colorful description with which Nicole paints the tainted status quo. One foot stretches out just far enough to press toes to her friend's leg and give a little nudge as she accidentally lies, "You always know where I am," as if it's a simple fact. Nevermind her all-over-the-place social life and random trips to who-knows-where with who-knows-who and her general inconsistency. She's sure she's not difficult to find. "And you talk a good game, but you know full damned well that certain conversations change things. Maybe it won't change the same way with everybody, but." She shrugs and dips her gaze back down from the summer sky to look at the blonde again. "Maybe I can channel it into art."

Squinty-eyed, Nicole watches Sparrow flap her arms. "Shut up..." she says, laughing and nudging Sparrow's leg with her fingertips.

"I do talk an EXCELLENT game," she says proudly. "It's one of my best skills. But yes, sometimes, they can change things... and sometimes NOT having them can still change things and sometimes.... things might change for the better if you do have that talk. Sometimes. I mean... I felt awkward as fuck when I first asked Joey like... so... are we... like... a 'we'? Or like... what do we have here. or... you know..." She says it in a way that clearly shows how awkward she was in that convo. "And look how that turned out!" Nodding a few times she acquiesces a bit. "Maybe... I mean, you can try. I love your art. I don't see enough of it."

"Got this piece I'm working on that both resonates perfectly and feels derivative of an earlier piece." Sparrow's expression goes flat as she clarifies, "About Yule." She eyerolls at her own weirdness and looks away to reclaim her beer again, even if she doesn't bring it back up for another drink, instead fussing with the can once more. "And, really, I'm pretty sure the big take-away from all of this is that everything changes and who knows whether it's gonna be good or bad so..." Her eyebrows creep upward inquisitively until she resolves that thought with a, "Fuck it," and a shrug. "Do whatever. Nothing matters." At least she's a cheerful convert to nihilism, lifting her beer with a bright smile to toast the meaninglessness of it all.

Nicole tilts her head in interest when Sparrow begins talking about her art. She's not an artist herself, so some of it kind of goes over her head a little. It's when Sparrow mentions Yule that an eyebrow gets arched. "See like... that whole..." She exhales. "He was one experience you had. It did not end up great, though you are both pretty awesome people. Some things just... like... Vinegar and oil taste great together on a salad but you know, they don't REALLY mix... Anyway. You should probably look at that experience like the exception, not the rule.... Just saying."

She's always 'just saying'.

"That aside... " She too shrugs. "Fuck it." But, to be contrary, she adds with a smirk. "Everything matters, until it doesn't, so ride the ride and just say fuck it." She lifts her beer then, tipping it to dully 'clink' (more like a clunk) against Sparrow's can.

"I'mma be good and not read into anything that you're looking to be the lettuce in a Bond-and-bombshell salad," Sparrow teases with an impish grin, deftly deflecting any otherwise valid points that might've been brought up. Which would be one hundred percent more effective if she didn't circle back around to point out, "He's not my only experience. It's not a singular thing. Do you want me to make a list of relationships that got way too weird after I said certain words or we got too personal? Cuz it's gonna be longer than you think." Her beer-holding hand swings wide to gesture back toward the house. "Even AJ, if I'm being honest. Not that I think there's any intentional avoidance, but." Her expression sours, and she just drops that train of thought. "I've been thinking that maybe I can have either breadth or depth, but not both. I dunno." With a pointed arch of her eyebrows, she nudges, "You know I didn't invite you over just to bitch about boys, right?" Might've helped if she hadn't lead with a loaded question. "You ever think about getting out of here?"

"To be fair," Nicole begins, after shaking her head in denial of wanting to be lettuce. "It didn't get weird because you rushed into saying those words. It got weird for entirely different reasons. An incompatibility of communicative styles kind of reasons more so than the Words." At least, that's what she made of that whole situation. "With Yule, that is. I mean... a string of failed relationships is you know, pretty common in life. It's what makes us figure out what we want, what we don't want and how we find the person, or people, that we are truly looking for, whether we admit it or not. I failed too. Plenty of times. Sometimes, I just chose entirely wrong. Sometimes I thought it was great at first then it was like a sparkler on the 4th of July, bright and beautiful then nothing but stinky sulfur after it burned out. That's like... how we get to wherever we are going.. trial and error... like, I mean....there is no such thing as perfection, just...a sense of 'rightness'." She shrugs. "Even the best relationships will have weird moments, awful moments, all mixed in with fucking amazing moments. You have to just figure out what will make you feel that rightness. Breadth? Depth? Both? That's like... I dunno. I am talking out of my ass probably, but like... it's when after those weird moments slip past and things still somehow feel fucking RIGHT... it's then that like... I dunno. You just feel... fucking right."

Master Wordsmith.

"But... talking about boys is fun! and... like.. out of here?" She shrugs. "I did that.... I came back..." She shrugs again. "Or do you mean like, a vacation, cuz all the time."

Sparrow wants to protest. Really. She does. She's good at pushing back. She's been doing that all night! But, well. It's really, really difficult to find any fault in the citation of underlying incompatibilities pertaining to communication. The best counterpoint she can muster for that Very Sound Logic is a stuck-out tongue. Which is almost certainly more of a concession than any sort of argument. She listens to the speech on failed relationships with an amused grin, though the analogy about the sparkler gets a very emphatic point in Nicole's direction for how very, very true that rings.

Whatever she'd meant by that attempt to redirect away from the relationship talk, she brushes it off, readily abandoning that thread to instead focus on all the lovey stuff. "I think maybe you're wrong about perfection," she ventures, though there's something about the way she says that which suggests she might just be making this up as she goes, formulating this theory on the fly. Or, ya know, talking out of her ass, as is the current standard for the evening. "Not only is there such a thing as perfect, but it happens pretty much all the time. Lots of little things. Moments. It's just that it's not constant, not sustained. Or sustainable." Was she going somewhere with that? Who knows. She veers off into, "And I'm pretty sure I mostly just want everything. All the pretty things. All the good kissers. Everyone who can keep up with me for a little while. Before the sulphur sets in." Flashing a grin, she poses, "I mean. Someday you're gonna have to save me from myself and make good on our elopement plans, but until then..." There's more resignation to her current inclinations than actual enthusiasm in her expression, but that's probably just for show.

At that stuck out tongue, all Nicole can do is chuckle and smile with a shake of her head. She listens with an arched brow when Sparrow says she thinks Nicole is wrong about perfection. "Well, yes," she admits. "I mean, there are absolutely perfect moments. Perfect gestures. But like, an all encompassing, everything is perfect every minute of every day? No." Another shake of her head is given. "Besides, that would get really fcking boring I think...." The corner of her lips lifts in a bit of a smirk. "And you get almost everything you want too... at least for a time, yeah? You are...." Her eyes narrow a touch, studying the drummer. "A collector of moments."

"And absolutely... someday, when we both tire of all the rest."

"That's kinda the paradox of perfection though, isn't it?" Sparrow counters with a glint of mischief in her bright brown eyes. "It wouldn't be perfect if it was boring, so ya gotta introduce imperfection to make it perfect." Like she's got this all figured out all of a sudden, she takes a celebratory swig, eyebrows maintaining a touch of smugness even after her grin is hidden. "But yeah," she concedes as the can comes back down, the little swish she gives it during its descent suggesting there's not a whole lot left in it. "Everything I want. For as long as I want it." Beat. "With rare exception." She flashes a smile toward Nicole, but it dims a little almost immediately, as she cants her head, expression going thoughtful. For all of a second or two. And then another smile rises, satisfied. A decision made, without any explanation. There's a very good chance she's not even aware she's transmitting all that.

Nicole nods and hums an, 'mmhmm'. "Paradox of Perfection. If I ever have a band, that's gonna be my band name." She smiles. The hairdresser is not at all musically talented except for some okayish karaoke singing, so the likelihood of that ever happening is pretty darn close to nil. "Wait.. with rare exception?" She lifts a hand and presses her fingertips to her chest. "Moi? Am I the rare exception?" Sparrows shifting expressions, as if she is practicing emotions for an acting class or something, make Nicole tilt her head, brows lift. "You okay?" Her hand lifts from her chest and she draws an invisible circle in the air, pointing towards her friend as she does. "You look like you are... Thinking. Or something."

Sparrow gives Nicole a flat look that very plainly reads Really? at the prospect of one day having a band. Her empty hand then goes up, as if she were in class and waiting to be called on. The little side-to-side wave that follows aims, entirely unnecessarily, to draw further attention. "Uh. You could have a band." Who cares about quality when there's fun to be had? The question about potential exceptions to the purple-haired drummer getting every little thing on her wishlist earns a wide, satisfied smirk. "You and I both know I already have you, gorgeous." Her lips pucker into a blown kiss, dark lashes dipped flirtatiously low. Whatever she had meant? She doesn't bother with any elaboration now.

Easier to move right along to answering inquiries about the weird look she was making. Maybe. At first, she doesn't seem to understand why she's being asked if she's alright. When it clicks, she snorts a laugh and nods. "Yeah, just. Got an idea. We'll see if it works once I get it on canvas, but it makes sense in my head. How do you feel about being the High Priestess?"