Flowers Between the Pavements

[Entarriance]

The more Shogi spoke, the more Go's evident irritation grew. Scrunched facial features, he looked as if he were willing to take the attention it would cause to drop everything in his arms to bash the kid as hard as he can. Before he could express his frustration, he felt the sudden addition to weight in already filled arms, stumbling a bit to keep it all balanced. His near inhuman fortitude didn't make balancing everything too much of a pain outside of just the basic concern of vision, having to awkwardly tilt his entire body to be able to see anything in front of him, and that put at risk dropping the massive haul he was carrying already. Unable to react to feeling the blonde yank something over his head, barely covering what little vision he had left.. Re-positioning his arms in front of him to make carrying strain him less, Shogi's question made his shoulder's jump, well not expecting the words coming from his mouth which were far from his expected adversity.


"Speaking of, are you all witches? It kind of adds up. Life of crime, shitty apartment, odd to the point of insanity... And the hair, of course, but you lot stick out from miles away. It's actually a wonder we weren't stopped earlier. Not that it matters if you are; at this point I have so many questions that it's not really possible to address them all."


The young adult's huskiness seemed to vanish, and he didn't even find it in him to fuel his provocation, choosing to remain quiet. Shogi picked up the clothing he  flung in Go's face, carrying as much as he could, which regardless was still far more unbalanced on his end. Following behind him, Go was more preoccupied with how he should answer the question. Leaving those type of things to Jeson seemed to serve better off, and his sudden composure finally vanished with Go's click of tongue as a response, clearly pissed at the events that restricted him from launching himself at the boy. 


Downstairs, carefully following Shogi's footsteps since Go couldn't even see for the life of him with all that he carried, or at least it took far too much effort to see, the conversation downstairs grew more evident to him. Jeson apacedly was enjoying his lunch, or externally he was. With a pleasant veneer, he engrossed himself in quickly analyzing every word coming from the man's mouth, half-annoyed at the fact he could have used that time to try and entice the lovely dame to his left. Lamentably, his precedence now lied in affirming he had some string of Shogi's wound around his finger, partially due to the growing rapport in his relationship with Chess. It wasn't a conscious realization, but the uncomfortable suffocation he felt throb in his chest prioritized another objective entirely. In his peripheral vision, he noticed  two bodies carrying far more luggage than the average human should carry. Without completely averting his gaze, he seemed to have caught Shogi's attention, before his expression crumbled in panic. The choice of whether to rat Shogi out on his disappearance and end any interaction that he had with them from this point forward, or to try and let them leave unnoticed. Begrudgingly knowing that the initial would surely lead to his idol incessantly despising him, especially if it meant ratting Go to arrest, he raised his arm and deftly swatted openly at the air, seeming like a gesticulation to his conversation to those around him, but indirectly signalling to Shogi and Go to make their move fast before he drew far more attention than he needed to. If it disconcerted Shogi without the risks, then it was even better.


"I'm dearly sorry to hear of his disappearance, I'll make it a priority to look out for him. The boy has a girlish, but rather tough air to him, at least from that image, I'm certain he's fine!"


Trying to comfort the drained bartender, the notice about a very worried brother definitely sparked interest. If only he chose to not dye his hair over a week or so ago, maybe he could have gotten out easier in this conversation. Social interaction was definitely his specialty, though it meant nothing if everyone deemed you as a lower being. It was probably his reason for conducting most of his dates at night, or just purely on threat alone.


"His brother must care about him a lot, to quickly post in such short notice. At least far closer than my brother and I, ha. If he lives upstairs, is his brother staying with someone else?"


His forehead wrinkled, cheeks slightly raised to squint his eyes in a look of worry, Jeson quickly cleared his bowl, feigning the semblance that it was simply a light conversation, and he'd be out of the man's hair soon. It was obvious he wasn't the most welcomed here, though perhaps if he provided a decent impression aside from his hair, there was a lot more on Shogi that he could get. After all, it wasn't as if Shogi was in a position where he could easily stop him from visiting again.


--


"In a way, I guess we're all kindaa witches," he started. It wasn't as if he was going to go on a rant, though Go spoke much more quietly, with it being the public and all. Thankfully provided some sort of opening by Jeson who Go was terrified of having to owe a favor to later, Even with quiet speech, it did nothing to mask gruffy, throated words.


"Xi's is natural, but he says he can't seem to find anything, y'know, witchy. Unless ya' lived under a rock, you'd've known that red is a pretty nasty colour. You're either for it or against it, even if it's a natural hair color. Grew up with some shitty people because of it. Decided when I was around 15 to just fuckin' dye it darker, if it pissed people off,  and show'em what happens when you fuck with people. Periwinkle dyed his too, but yer gonna have to someone that ain't me for why. That bitch isn't going to tell me a thing. Fortunately, you don't seem to be hating on us any more than the normal kid would, but maybe it's just the damn scenario at hand. If ya' got questions, you should've asked the rake."


Walking slightly uphill was far, far more difficult than he had expected carrying the load he was. He made his attempts not to slam into people, and that itself was a chore. The good thing about it was he could mentally treat it like he was training, which made it seem far less annoying than it was. How he would manage to stay with any of them would be impressive itself, with their already lack of space. Go's mood was far better than it was coming to his apartment, with Jeson at least staying behind to get what he can. Any second away from him was a good second. Shogi's inquiry on them as people was definitely surprising, far better than being asked what was wrong with them which was surely to come up.


"Whatta 'bout you, mophead? Think any differently of witches? Ever been a time where they fucked with ya'?"


It was obvious Go was definitely resentful towards the subject at hand, the only thing powering him is the thought of getting home to finally eat instead of having to just watch his childhood friend shove chow-mien in his mouth while talking up the nearest girl. If he wasn't going to be home, that meant he could rest assured knowing Xi had to cook, and that food was something that he could actually eat when he got home. Having to reposition his grip on the numerous cans and boxes that were piled up, Bailey could essentially have ran away at this point if he was only carrying clothes. Though it would thankfully no longer be his problem to deal with if he did.

 

[C.DEX]

Go's irritation didn't go unnoticed. In fact, in some way, it spurred Shogi on. He emitted a laugh as the cap came down around Go's head. It wasn't only less of a burden on himself to overload the small man, it was a tactical strategy. He knew well the sort of people who'd go so far as to raid a school, and he knew well they wouldn't get along unless Shogi had shown the same brashness. It was an easy task to him, as while he was from an affluent family in every sense of the word, his tongue was sharp. 



"So, you're not witches, is what you're saying. That's a relief, at least. Not that I dislike them; I just..." he hesitated. While it'd be a smart way to guise himself to show abhorrence for them, he couldn't find it within himself to bring out that much hypocracy. Still, it was a wonder. "I don't meet too many people who attempt to subject themselves to the disdain of others for the fuck of it. You're ... definitely not a sheep. But that doesn't mean I find it brave; it's actually quite stupid. No, I haven't had too many bad experiences with witches, but that's probably because I haven't seen many. I didn't grow up here, and the only witches that are in the security field are ones that get investigated by us."



Brow quirked, the blond continued to lay into Go. "Well, I've heard of some stories, actually. I saw a red-haired fellow get dragged out of his home and lit on fire on CCTV. I've talked to witches who've come to my company, asking for help because they're being targeted. All declined, of course, because siding with witches is bad for business, and my father absolutely hates them. I think you've probably already gleaned it, but I don't really come from a place that actively employs anti-segregation measures against witches. We're happy to allow them to live in dredges outside of our community. It's not really me, but I'm sure that you can understand that it's where I come from."



He glanced backwards - as much as he could without dropping absolutely everything. The storefront was disappearing quickly, and there was no sign of Jeson. That came with its benefits and its detriments; he wasn't exactly sure what the purple-headed saboteur was trying to pull, but it couldn't have been good. Despite Jeson's facade, the man practically oozed hate for Shogi, and he wasn't sure whether he wanted to attempt to break him away from it, be his friend, or make a quick attempt at escape to save his own skin. It wasn't as if he couldn't; walking away would be an easy enough task. With a little silence and some fancy footwork, Go wouldn't even know he was gone, on account of the clothes in his hands and the cap on his head. Still, the thought of being captured by a less savory group of individuals was something he didn't have the courage to put up to chance, just then. 



"What's his story? Why does he hate me so much?" Shogi asked, breaking the silence. "Not that many people like me, but that was record time, as far as things go. I gather it has something to do with Chess?" he pried, starting his own espionage, parallel to Jeson's. "He seems a little ... off. You all do, but him more so. And you don't seem to like him much yourself, but I'm not sure if that's just your odd group's version of affection or actual hatred."



...



The bartender leaned against the wooden top, twirling a cap against the end of his finger. His mouth shifted from side to side, as if contemplating something within the inside of his mouth. As soon as Jeson had finished, he swooped the bowl up in one arm, going down the line of the wooden top, attending to his job before having returned to the prying stick. With a formidable stack of bowls and silver in arm and hand, he re-approached Jeson. 



"Normally I'd keep his life, well, private. But I suppose any information can help. No, his brother lives out-of-town. They're both the sons of some big security company fella, which is why it's surprising that nothing has happened yet as far as gettin'm back. But I'm sure that it'll happen soon, anyway. If he's not just fucking around somewhere without his phone - well, his guys paid a visit to here once, actually. For a private company, they looked pretty ... militaristic. If you know what I mean. If anyone did take him, they're gonna be in a world of hurt." he said, his own words giving himself a small comfort. 



Jeson's comment about Bailey protecting himself forced a short laugh out of him - one that was in stark contrast to his mood beforehand. 



"He's got Napoleon syndrome, but honestly, he can't hurt a fly. At his core he's a good kid, if a bit bitchy, and that's what worries me."



The bartender's eyes flitted over, to a patron who'd looked particularly annoyed that they weren't being served and the person who'd been distracting him donned the guise of purple hair. In a huff, they stood, and made their way to the door. The bartender locked eyes with Jeson and gave a short laugh, before quickly flitting away and disposing of the used dishes in the back. In a moment's notice he was back at the bar, dotting back to each of his customers and completing his tasks rather than humoring the prying Jeson.



"Just keep an eye out!" he said, raising his voice and directing his gaze down toward him. "You're the first person to ask, so thanks for that!"