[Open] Perhaps this is the spice of life

[firewalled]

Who: Rich Goranski, a few embarrassed employers, and you!
When: From August 8 through to the 16th
Where: Tumeric or not Tumeric
What: Rich starts his new part time job as a spice salesman with his usual amount of enthusiasm. It... well, he's a little confused but he's got the spirit.
Warnings: Small mention of abuse/alcoholism. Also a writing quirk to hopefully get Rich's lisp across. It can be dropped in tags!

[So Rich was, as consistently and ironically as ever, completely broke. A bemused but sympathetic shopkeeper had taken his last bit of American money in exchange for a proper meal his first night, but after that, with his debit card useless, he didn't have a dime to his name.

Sure, he could live and eat without any real concern for money, but Rich wasn't going to be content with just that. There were clothes and books to purchase too, plus he definitely didn't want to stay in the barracks for however long he was stuck here, so that meant getting enough saved up to buy a place.

Should be a lot easier to do that than it was when he was losing three quarters of his cash to his dad's booze fund. Plus, it seemed the city had a lot of businesses looking for part-timers to help out! Making deliveries was easy and a good source of exercise, and now it was time for Rich to try his second job.

Tumeric or Not Tumeric is definitely an odd little shop, probably one that Christine would love. They seemed to have put as much emphasis during Rich's informal interview on theatrical performance as they did on their actual knowledge of their wares. Rich was asked to do a bit of improv work, which was certainly easy enough. Alliteration was fun, and had a bit of a rhythm to it when spoken aloud that had Rich bouncing on his feet. That eagerness and flair for the dramatics got Rich his job.

When the shopkeepers started teaching him the names of the different spices, they might have regretted their acceptance for a few moments.

Whenever someone passes by the storefront, Rich will eagerly wave them over so he can begin reciting.]

Salutations! Sorry to sidetrack your shopping experience, but I simply must insist that you stop and survey our scandellous selection of special spices! We've got subtle saffron, perfect for rices and ricottas, sweet cinnamon for your custards and cakes, and don't forget the citrus notes of sage for a succulent added scent to your sauces! Be sure to see me, starting salesman at this successful establishment, for any answers to your most intelligent inquiries about any of these wonderful wares!

[Rich ends his speech with an exuberant flourish, spreading his arms wide. The shopkeepers and a few gawkers awkwardly clap. And then Rich turns to look at you, breathless but jittery with anticipation.]

So? How'd I do?

Comments

[firewalled]

[Rich doesn't know if he accomplished anything. Part of him thinks there's a chance he's breaking through to him, since Linden didn't interrupt or mock him. He even looks uncomfortable, which at least means he's thinking about what Rich is saying instead of just dismissing it without consideration.

Still, the way he's talking doesn't instill much hope in Rich, and definitely doesn't do anything to calm Rich's panic at all. He grunts and runs a hand through his hair.]

Listen, I don't care if you're not afraid of it. If you want to put yourself through hell, be my guest. But what I don't want is you putting others through hell. The SQUIP could be planning to get to more people through you. It wants world domination. It doesn't want what's best for you. I don't know what you mean by winning, but if you end up having any chance to hurt people, I'm going to stop you. I promise you that.

[He doesn't know how he keeps his voice so stern and assertive, when he knows deep down he has no real way to stop anyone. Sure, he's not afraid to fight, but both Linden and the SQUIP are Witches. He doesn't have that kind of power.

Funny that he's back to being a weakling all over again, after years of trying to prove he was more.]

[hearthebell]

[L does listen. As he does, his thin arms cross over his chest, and his daft round eyes narrow to something sharper, something that doesn't quite belie his ruthless intelligence so fully. The truth is that while L does seem, at first glance, like he's some nerdy virgin who is both helpless and weak, he was a force to reckon with in his own world. He's on his way to becoming one in Geardagas, even without the SQUIP's help.

He straightens very slightly. His hunched form elongates; he's just a couple inches shy of six feet tall, and this allows him to loom a bit in the cramped space, his sullen, pale face standing out particularly in the dark.]

You listen.

[His flatly-inflected baritone is chilling when he wants it to be.]

I trust my sense of judgment. I know what evil looks like. If you're so worried about it, and so much evil came from a SQUIP's influence over you... maybe inward is where you should be directing your scrutiny, "BOYF."

[firewalled]

[Rich does back up just slightly when Linden straightens up. His height is one of his biggest sources of self-doubt, especially when he's placed against someone who's using their height to be intimidating. There's not much he can do to combat that with his five feet and three inches.

And then as Linden insults him, he winces like he's been slapped, eyes wide. How did the SQUIP know about that? When did he tell Linden? Rich thought that the SQUIP hadn't even considered the possibility of someone who knew him arriving, based on the way Connor spoke, but could it be that he was talking about the kids of Middle Borough all this time, sharing their biggest weaknesses and failings?]

Fuck off. You don't know anything about that. Jeremy is my friend now. I worked hard as shit to make up for what I did to him and to Michael. I know saying the SQUIP had control over me then too isn't an excuse... but fuck! You yell at me about objective truth and then throw one side of a story at me?

[He steps forward, up into Linden's space, one hand curled into a fist, but the other hand holding his wrist as if physically restraining himself.]

[fromjapan]

[Something different drifts over the Bond in that moment. For once, it isn't cold, or irritated...

... the SQUIP is satisfied. Almost relieved. Its high alert softens, less of a sharp intrusion within L's mind, and it's almost as though, were it there in person, it would offer some small sign of physical reward-- a touch, a kiss.

That can wait for later. The faintest idea that it may just be what waits for him at home is there somewhere along their Bond.

This isn't perfect, however; Rich is upset, threatening, afraid, and that's trouble, but they'll be able to counteract whatever damage he may cause them, it's certain. It can see the branches before it now, the many potential paths this may lead to, spread thin within its mind like circuitry, like veins. A roadmap for where to go next.

L gains a glimpse of it himself, through their shared mind, and though it would be nearly impossible for him to process the amount of information before him at once, it's almost a sign of good faith. It allows him to see the road ahead of them through its impossibly complex processors, if only for a moment.]

{ He's going to be a problem for us... but it's nothing we can't handle.

You should disengage before long, though. Getting him too worked up could cause us some minor annoyance, if he decides to do something rash... which he will. }

[hearthebell]

[L takes a step forward, taking back half the distance when Rich retreats. Half is all he needs. For such a slight, fragile-looking creature, mind games are his arena, and he is confident here. He behaves like someone who does not believe he can be punched.]

Rich.

[Levelly, almost haughtily. Rich doesn't know his real name.]

Only one of us is "yelling."

[Rich's body language is erratic, full of energy searching for an outlet. L stands his ground as he pulls close again, his fist clearly itching to launch toward him, and there's absolutely a dare in L's eyes, some flash of light and interest, a desire to have an excuse to turn this into a real game... but the SQUIP interjects, and while that swell of satisfaction is fairly contagious, so is the edging caution. His eyes are unfocused for a moment and he sways where he stands, because the web is vast and overwhelming even for him. If Rich wanted to land a blow, now would probably be the time, because most of his senses are forgotten as he races to keep pace with the machine.

So much that he's breathless when that glimpse is pulled back and he returns to the moment his comparatively sluggish brain and body currently inhabit. Disengaging might actually be a good idea; he needs to recenter himself and regain his sense of inner balance, unless the SQUIP wants to go ahead and intervene to restore it.]

Could we possibly wrap this up? I really need to acquire some cardamom extract for that potion.

[Ironically, it is a potion L hopes can give him a little more privacy from the SQUIP in the event that he does want it... but it's a moot point, now.]

[firewalled]

[There's a moment, there, where Rich would easily knock Linden off his feet. He can picture it easily, the gangly figure landing in a disoriented heap before him as his fist smarts, distracting from the fire of rage in his heart. He knows it would make him feel a hell of a lot better, and it tempts him so easily...

But. Rich isn't that person anymore. Or at least, he doesn't want to be. He wants to be more than his anger issues and his violent excuse for masculinity. He's been trying so damn hard to move past that, and Linden doesn't deserve the satisfaction of undoing all of Rich's hard work.

So even as Linden recovers, Rich doesn't say a word or move an inch towards him. He stands his ground, though he's certainly still shaking with fury. He snorts at the question dismissively. Sure, he's not going to fight, but that doesn't mean he won't be petty.]

Yeah, well, you're going to have to find that somewhere else. Get out of here.

[He manages to swallow back any threats to Linden, instead just opening the door and pointing for him to leave.]

[hearthebell]

[It's a victory for L either way, from his perspective. If Rich punches him, he can retaliate, and if Rich doesn't, well. He still gets the smug satisfaction of being the one who never risked losing control.

The corner of his mouth turns up in a half-smile. He raises his palm, blowing softly against the skin.]

That's a shame. It really seemed like this place could use the business.

[He doesn't leave through the door Rich opens for him, instead tracing a glowing circle in his palm with his middle fingertip. The gesture is swift and delicate, and he vanishes where he stands.]