fourstrings | When the world is too dark

When the world is too dark

[ The Evergreen has a strong no-assholes policy. This is undermined somewhat by the fact that Nick basically runs it now, but it means he can use himself as a gauge. If anyone’s a bigger asshole than he is, they get kicked out.

Steve is the kind of asshole who should have been kicked out way earlier. That’s on Nick. He was over-cautious, cut the guy too much of a break, because running this bar is the only thing that has him making enough cash to keep up with his responsibilities. He’d worried that word would get around that The Evergreen wasn’t a friendly place anymore, and he’d ruin the reputation Al had carefully built up for it over the years, drive customers away. And it’s not just because Al’s basically promised him the place and it’s his future he’s gambling on, but respect for Al. He built Nick sure as he built up this bar, and the very least Nick can do in return is not tank it. And in fairness, Steve had started slow: the kind of coarse jokes that are mean instead of funny, taking sly digs at people. Way too much flirting with women beyond the point it became clear that they didn’t want to be flirted with, at least not by Steve. Nick finally found his balls the night he’d rounded the corner to check there was enough paper in the johns and seen Steve caging a girl in against the wall, face leaning in even though hers was twisted adamantly away. He’d grabbed the man by collar and belt with no regard for the fact that Steve had a good three inches and 20 pounds on him, marched him out the door, and told him not to come back, ever.

Which means that Steve is now going on the Wall of Shame, and he’d been such a dick about it Nick wants to make it a special occasion. There’s a little florist across the street that’s probably gonna close down any day now, judging by the amount of foot traffic they get, so before opening the next day Nick heads over to give them a little last bit of support. There’s a little bell that rings cutely as he pushes the door open, a blast of welcome cool, fragrant air, and… the most beautiful man he’s ever laid eyes on behind the counter. Blond hair in one of those trendy cuts that look goofy on most people that aren’t pop stars but somehow suits him just right, big eyes shaded with long lashes, a sweet little beauty mark.

Nick stops dead just inside the door, confident that if he takes one more step without preparation he’s gonna trip over his own feet. ]

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[ Well, the voice matches the look. It's light, almost sweet. Honestly, it's a wonder this place doesn't have more teen girls stopping in just to blush and giggle.

Nick takes a deep, grounding breath, until he's sure he won't blush or giggle, and strolls to the counter with his hands plunged in his pockets. ]

Hey. I'm lookin' for a wreath. Funeral wreath, about yay big [ and he holds his hands up, indicating a space that would be juuust about big enough to circle an unflattering picture printed out on A4 paper ]. You do anything along those lines?

[ Good, very cool. Not fawning at all! He mentally congratulates himself, even though his sunglasses did most of the work by concealing the way his eyes got wide when he first got a look at this guy. ]

[ huh. it's not exactly the kind of request vash was expecting, even if the guy does look a little bit like an undertaker. a dark mess of hair, eyes hidden by dark sunglasses, jaw sketched out by just enough stubble to make you wonder if it's purposeful or just careless shaving.

he looks... cool. kinda like the anti-heroes that roll up into town just when the odds are against the hero, saying stuff like i'm only in it for the money and then never actually taking the reward.

but. suddenly, recognition. ] Oh! You're the guy from across the street, right?

[ the bar's been longer here than vash's shop has, but he's never actually seen much of the guy until now. mostly because business over there is only really starting to kick in once vash is closing up shop for the day, still sleepy and shuttered when he opens in the morning.

... but. he leans back a little bit, looking past the guy to catch a glimpse of the building across the street, eyes a little wide. ] ... did someone die?

Not for a few good years yet, God willing.

[ Al likes to joke about how he's circling the drain - Nick's words are even an echo of him, even if he left the and the creek don't rise off the end - but Nick likes to think the old coot'll hang on until Nick's too old to even want to own a bar. He smiles crookedly, knowing this is the kind of thing some people could take real offense to. ]

Gave a customer a lifetime ban last night. There're a few people who'll be glad they don't have to put up with him hanging around imposing himself anymore, so I thought I'd break the news tonight where everyone can see it. [ A beat. why does he feel like he needs to apologize? He doesn't even know this guy! Even if he does look like the type where if Nick said yeah, my grandma his eyes would fill with tears and they'd be horribly genuine. ] Kinda dark, I know.

[ ah, whew! lifetime bans? that's way less scary.

and if vash picks up on the fact that kinda dark, i know is supposed to be halfway to apology for the morbid humor, he isn't letting on. the opposite, if anything -- there's an ehehe as he kicks at the base of the stool he's sitting on, giving himself a twirl that propels him up and out of the seat. ] Got it! Mission accepted!

[ and lucky, lucky, because the perfect plants for the job have flowers that vash is pretty sure they won't mind sparing him. most of the other florists in the city get their flowers shipped in from farms for their arrangements -- vash prefers to keep as many living plants as he can in the shop and work from there, occasionally dipping into the plants he keeps blooming at home. sure, it takes more work, but he likes the idea that they're all teammates pitching in to make the place work.

swinging himself around the counter, crouching down in front of one of the stands spilling over with plants. but -- tipping his head back to make eye contact with his customer again, catching himself. ] Oh! Sorry! You want me to drop 'em off later, or you want to wait around? Shouldn't take that long. [ wiggling his fingers in the guy's direction. ] Fastest fingers in the West, right here.

I - [ He should have them dropped off. It's early to open, sure, but nobody does their best work while they're being scrutinized, and what's he gonna do? Stand around with his hands in his pockets like a jackass? ] I'll wait. Don't know a lot about floristry, and I never pass up a chance to learn something new.

[ This is news to Nick, for anything that doesn't relate directly to his work. Still! He said it out loud, too late to back out now. ]

So, quickdraw. When everyone asks who did the flowers, what name do I give 'em?

Oh, cool!

[ his expression is already sunny as the afternoon, but somehow? when the guy says he's actually interested in learning, vash still manages to brighten. ] C'mere, then, I can show you!

It's Vash, by the way. [ he's tempted to tell the guy to stick to telling people he got his flowers done by quickdraw -- that sounds cool. but it'll also make it hard for people to actually look him up, so he's gotta can the idea. ]

Thanks, Vash.

[ Looks like he might learn something after all, in spite of himself. Even if when he moves closer, he's far more interested in a particularly fine specimen of sunflower than the wreath-in-progress. ]

Oh - I'm Nick. Good to meet you, finally. Is it just you here?

[ nick. even the name is cool! ]

No, duh. [ and he's reaching up without an ounce of permission, grabbing at wolfwood's elbow and dragging him down as he plops his ass right on the floor. ] I've got a ton of coworkers.

See? [ dragging one of the heavier pots forward, a trellis covered in climbing, cheerful pink roses. ] Say hi to Nick, guys.

[ grabbing one of the leaves and making it wiggle, pitching his voice up as he chirps out a hiii, nick! and yeah, he absolutely does laugh at his own stupid joke before he digs a pair of pruning shears out of his jacket pocket and sets to work. ]

[ This is horrible. It's been a minute since he was interested in anyone, and suddenly he's remembering why.

Being attracted to someone turns you into an idiot. That's the only explanation for the fact he sombrely reaches out to gently take that leaf between his fingers and give it a quick up-down motion, like he's shanking hands with it. ]

Pleasure's mine.

[ oh.

it's a very stupid, very small thing. but nick leans into the joke instead of looking at vash like he's grown a second head, and suddenly? there is an irrational part of vash's brain that wants to grab the guy by the face and kiss him right on the mouth.

... but, no! you can't sexually harass the only customer you've had this month!

so he shakes it off, ignores the heat in his cheeks, and sets to work picking out the flowers ready to come off the vine. ] D'you know one of the coolest things about plants? They have a secret language! So when you're making a bouquet or something, it's kinda like you're speaking code.

Oh?

[ Damn, that... is kinda cool, actually, and he pushes his sunglasses up on top of his head so he can get a better look. If it's meaningful, the colours and shit are gonna be a factor, right? ]

Are they all romantic stuff, or can you shade people with them? Like "hey, we're glad you're gone"?

[ see? vash knew right away that he liked this guy. ]

Depends on how awesome your florist is. Lucky for you... [ piling up the little collection of pink roses he's accumulated in wolfwood's lap, since it's not like he's using it! and then he's settling the rose plant back into her spot, beaming her a silent thanks for helping out.

now, hmmm... ah, there we go. white lilies! ] Roses say a bunch of stuff. You usually give red ones when you're trying to romance someone, but pink ones mean something totally different.

[ Whoa! He's a flower tray now?

Honestly, it makes him a little nervous. Vash obviously cares a great deal for his plants - even the way he cuts the blooms is gentle, which seems like an oxymoron, but his fingers are deft, the shears he's using angled carefully, resulting in a clean and tidy cut each time. Nick's hands are more accustomed to throwing a shaker around and cracking ice than cradling blooms, so he tries to just... not move, beyond tracing the petal of one of the roses with a careful, hesitant finger and then deciding he's better off just letting the master work. ]

And? What do pink roses mean?

[ If red is for when you're trying to romance someone, and pink is like red but paler... maybe they're like "meh"? ]

Secret! [ with a wink. ] For now.

[ if he gives half the joke away now, it'll only be half as good later. lilies are always a little stingier than roses when it comes to giving up the goods, but that's okay! you don't wanna throw too many on a wreath and make a guy's bar smell like a funeral home.

settling those into wolfwood's lap with the rest, and... hmm. poppies also work for this, right? more white, to balance out the pink.

then he's grabbing one of the wire frames to make a wreath, using his feet to scoot himself around so he's facing wolfwood. feet on either side of his knees, using his own thighs as a work space. fingers flying as he starts to weave the flowers, never breaking the flow of chatter. ] But! No matter what you're trying to say to someone, it's still nice, right? Like, usually funerals are gloomy, but I think it's harder to be sad when you're looking at flowers. Especially when you know they're telling you someone cares about you.

Edited 2023-02-28 19:25 (UTC)

Tease.

[ He flashes a smile as cheeky as he dares before he goes back to watching Vash work; it wouldn't do to get kicked out! He might... need more flowers, one day. For the bar.

But Vash keeps talking, and Nick nods. ]

Mm. I used to really like doing funerals for old people. Folk who'd lived out a good, long life. Seeing all their friends and family gathered to cry it out and trade stories and share their good memories, and they'd all leave feeling lighter at the end. I always thought funerals were for the living more than for the dead.

[ He smiles. Another reason it was a good thing he got out. ]

[ his smile quirks up a little at one corner, but vash can also feel the way the heat rushes up into his face. agh!! no, don't even think about sexually harassing a customer!

nice of wolfwood to give him something else to latch onto. vash blinks, looks up from what he's doing. ] ... you do funerals? [ brow scrunch. ] As... a bartender?

[ vash... doesn't know much about bartenders. is that part of the job description? ]

Oh! No. It's such a joke around the bar I forget not everyone knows. I trained as a priest.

[ and now he's wondering whether he should have held off a little more. Tried to feel out how Vash might take the news before he said anything... but that'd be lying, basically. ]

Didn't work out, obviously.

Whoooaaa, really? [ vash doesn’t know much about priests, either. but it’s hard to imagine this guy behind a pulpit? ] That’s…

… cool! [ as sincere as he is enthusiastic. ] It kinda makes you sound like you’ve got… [ dropping his voice a little, just for effect. ] A mysterious past.

[ the priest-turned-outlaw rolls into town, the cross around his neck glinting in the light of the setting sun. forced to turn from a life of peace, carrying out the lord’s will with a gun instead of a sermon. cue theme music. ]

[ He can't help laughing, and the sound is just a quiet little huff, but it crinkles his eyes. It's... interesting, too. It's the second time Vash has said something that a certain tone to it - saying he's got the fastest fingers in the west, getting enthusiastic about Nick having a mysterious past. It seems a little at odds with selling flowers and the tender way he deals with his plants (which... seems an ass-backwards way to go about it, honestly, don't most people buy in from markets?). Everyone's got layers to them, but it's usually a matter of seeing one at a time. And here Vash is, multifaceted right off the bat. Intriguing. ]

I'm pretty sure that's the first time anyone's ever said it was cool. But I'll take it.

[ it's the kind of laugh that makes vash want to hear more. just a little thing, but it warms up those eyes -- vash wonders what it would take to make him laugh right from the belly, wonders what it would sound like if he did.

he'd really, really like to hear it. ]

Maybe people just keep it to themselves.

[ because, y'know, most of the world has a filter between their brain and their mouth. vash can't relate. ] How does a priest end up working at a bar, though?

Hm.

[ It's... kind of a long story, and full of the sorts of things that make people go "oh, I'm so sorry!" which always makes Nick feel awkward for not actually being that bothered about it. He hedges his bets a little. ]

It's more like I was always meant to be a bartender, and had a brief stint as a priest. It's just how I was raised. Lots of religion growing up, so when I was encouraged to go to seminary it seemed reasonable. Can't remember exactly when I realized that most people in the church believed in God in a way that I didn't, but once I did it didn't feel right to keep it up.

I still hear plenty of confessions. Now I just give 'em a drink and some advice rather than Hail Marys.

[ vash makes a hmm of his own. ]

That's kinda nice, though. In the end, you wound up right where you're supposed to be!

[ the glove he wears is cut-proof (nai had insisted, after one very unfortunate incident with a box cutter and an ER trip), but unfortunately? he kept having to tug them off whenever he needed to use his cell phone, so vash has completely defeated the point by cutting off two of the fingers.

pays for it, too! like now, when one of the roses he's trying to weave pricks him with a thorn. there's a little hss of pain, a shake of his hand, and then he's popping the finger in his mouth to suck away the little bead of blood.

doesn't stop him from talking with his mouth full. ] And running a bar seems like way more fun than doing priest stuff.

[ ehehe. ] No offense to priests, or anything.

[ There's a brief spike of concern when Vash pricks his finger that furrows Nick's brows, but if Vash doesn't seem bothered by it it'd be werid to make a fuss, right? He decides not to. ]

Never got to throw a guy out and then get sarcastic about it with a wreath when I was in the church, that's for sure.

[ Or meet cute florists in a context that meant it was probably okay to flirt with them a little. Although maybe a little of the caretaker urge lingers - he looks at Vash, sucking on his fingertip, and holds out his hand. ]

Let me see that.

[ he blinks! it's just a little prick, really, nothing to worry about!

... but, instead of saying that? vash is handing his hand over obediently. it's almost kneejerk; something about the guy's voice has the same big-brother no-argument tone that vash has had his whole life to get used to. ]

What d'you think? [ tone grave. very serious! ] Am I gonna make it, or should I ask for last rites?

[ Oh, so he's a wiseass aspiring cowboy florist. The facets just keep on coming! Well, two can play that game. Nick holds that hand in his and looks over it with the best sombre face he can manage (and it really is just a tiny thing, there isn't even any blood after its trip into Vash's mouth), and makes the sign of the cross over it. ]

Lord, heal thy servant, that he may continue his good works.

[ He squints performatively at the finger. ]

Well, they must have forgotten to take my mojo when they took my collar, 'cause I can't see a damn thing.

[ And he hazards a wink, hoping it looks cool and in-jokey - or maybe just a little flirty - rather than sleazy. ]

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