[Honestly, what happens next is probably for the best. It will at least distract Jonas from the words that are coming out of Fugo's mouth, which out him from being a part of a truly terrible point in history.]
Smartphones? [The exact term is clearly lost on him, but he's not totally without reference.] Are you talking about PDAs? I didn't know that the PalmPilot could--
[At which point the sparks fly. Fugo flinches and then goes rigid in his seat, freezing up; as much as he knows in his head that the spell isn't dangerous, it's another to convince his worn-thin nerves that everything is alright.]
Jesus. Would it kill you to be careful? If you don't know what you're doing, quit screwing around!
Ah– god, sorry, sorry! (waving at the sparks before realizing it's a problem with the wand, overcompensating by pitching it straight into the bonfire.
it crackles, lets off a surprisingly quiet boom, then curls into a rainbow mushroom cloud. the scene has the few children celebrating in awe, offering best "ooo's" and "ahhh's".
jonas can't look, too busy fussing.)
That's totally my bad, are you okay? I didn't get you in the eye or anything, did I?
[Predictably, the conversation takes a turn for the chaotic. More sparks fly and the wand goes into the fire with a minor explosion, much to the delight of the unlooking children. Fugo has the sense to make sure his own hands are empty before he grouchily tries to wave Jonas off.]
It's fine! Cut it out, it's not that-- [When Jonas doesn't immediately back off, Fugo braces himself on the table and tries to push himself up. He grimaces when he accidentally puts weight on his mostly healed sprained ankle ankle, but manages to get to his feet.] I said it's fine. It was just startling.
(only backs up when fugo makes to stand, hands raised in a universal "i surrender." it's not every day you fuck up, ruin someone's relaxing night, and make them stand on an injury. jonas is perceptive enough to notice, but doesn't dare reach out to help.)
... okay, okay, okay. (heaving an exhale, slowly moving a hand to rub at his forehead.) This– it was a mistake.
And don't... kill me for asking, but did you– I mean, are you hurt? You look like you're favouring a leg is all...
[The tips of his ears burn. Fugo feels caught out in his outsized overreaction to what he knows was just a harmless accident. He doesn't want to explain to this stranger why he's on edge, or what's up with his ankle. He just-- ... he just wants to leave the house, disappear into a crowd without thinking of or worrying about who might be watching his movements. There's no normal in Aefenglom, but he's tired of his day-to-day life being limited to the confines of his bedroom and the house. He just needs to grit his teeth and get through it.]
I sprained my ankle a few weeks ago. [He offers no context for how it might have gotten sprained. The trick, he's learned, is to tell the truth, but as little of it as possible.] It's kind of sore, but I can walk short distances just fine.
[He pauses, shoulders tightening and fingers curling up underneath his palms. And then, awkwardly--]
Water under the bridge, man. I'm just glad you're still with us in the land of the living. (lowers one hand, the other giving fugo a liberal, friendly wave to dismiss the apology entirely.) It freaked me out too, so I did the dumbest thing possible and moved too quickly.
(jonas doesn't pry, as he's never been that nosy. it could've happened in any way, his mind thankfully going to fugo stepping off a curb wrong and rolling it. that's the most normal way, and the easiest to forget about.)
Sprained ankles suck. Seriously, sometimes you just wish they were broken. At least then it's stabilized and you can move around a little better. (backing up till his calves hit a seat, dropping into it with a gesture at the one fugo left.) I'm Jonas, by the way. Are you new too?
[And that... is that? He guesses. Fugo stands for a moment longer, awkward and still a little tense, before gingerly following Jonas' lead and sitting back down at the bench. Sounds of the celebration wash around them; people talking, children laughing, someone singing some song he's never heard before tonight. Probably traditional.]
They're... annoying, yeah. I've got a brace on it, but I don't know how much it's helping. [He's... not going to fidget. There's nothing to be nervous about. It's fine, now, probably. Fugo's fingers tap restlessly on the surface of the table, before he pulls them back and sticks them in his pockets. Totally casual.] ... Fugo. Sort of. I haven't been here as long as some people, but I arrived back in the autumn. [He makes a face. Can you believe it?] Back during Samuin, their version of New Year's.
[Who the fuck celebrates the new year during October. It wasn't a bad holiday (the lanterns were nice!) but the timing felt completely off.]
You got here in the Fall? (an owlish stare, tabling the fidgeting for now.
it'd be impolite to bring up something so personal soon after they just met, but it's hard to resist knowing he might be able to help. assuaging fears and keeping people on track is usually jonas' schtick—evidently his usual calm is inaccessible at the moment, another great reason why he manages to shut up about it.
his voice lowers so as to not disturb the song's chorus.)
What is that, three, four months? None of this must be really surprising to you anymore... (this place is bustling, busy, but it's difficult to imagine remaining her for such a long period of time.) Are you parked by this fire waiting for somebody, or are you relaxing while you can?
Four months, yeah. [His shoulders twitch with something that's not quite a chuckle, but adjacent to one.] I've got a pretty high threshold for weird but, every now and then, this place just pole vaults over it.
[He shifts to idly watch some of the children play around with their wands, mimicking the more complex dances and movements of their parents and older siblings.]
A little of both. I've been stuck at home for a while. [He pauses, then supplies--] ... because of my ankle. A friend invited me out, but mostly I'm just enjoying the fresh air.
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Smartphones? [The exact term is clearly lost on him, but he's not totally without reference.] Are you talking about PDAs? I didn't know that the PalmPilot could--
[At which point the sparks fly. Fugo flinches and then goes rigid in his seat, freezing up; as much as he knows in his head that the spell isn't dangerous, it's another to convince his worn-thin nerves that everything is alright.]
Jesus. Would it kill you to be careful? If you don't know what you're doing, quit screwing around!
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it crackles, lets off a surprisingly quiet boom, then curls into a rainbow mushroom cloud. the scene has the few children celebrating in awe, offering best "ooo's" and "ahhh's".
jonas can't look, too busy fussing.)
That's totally my bad, are you okay? I didn't get you in the eye or anything, did I?
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It's fine! Cut it out, it's not that-- [When Jonas doesn't immediately back off, Fugo braces himself on the table and tries to push himself up. He grimaces when he accidentally puts weight on his mostly healed sprained ankle ankle, but manages to get to his feet.] I said it's fine. It was just startling.
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... okay, okay, okay. (heaving an exhale, slowly moving a hand to rub at his forehead.) This– it was a mistake.
And don't... kill me for asking, but did you– I mean, are you hurt? You look like you're favouring a leg is all...
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I sprained my ankle a few weeks ago. [He offers no context for how it might have gotten sprained. The trick, he's learned, is to tell the truth, but as little of it as possible.] It's kind of sore, but I can walk short distances just fine.
[He pauses, shoulders tightening and fingers curling up underneath his palms. And then, awkwardly--]
Sorry. For snapping.
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(jonas doesn't pry, as he's never been that nosy. it could've happened in any way, his mind thankfully going to fugo stepping off a curb wrong and rolling it. that's the most normal way, and the easiest to forget about.)
Sprained ankles suck. Seriously, sometimes you just wish they were broken. At least then it's stabilized and you can move around a little better. (backing up till his calves hit a seat, dropping into it with a gesture at the one fugo left.) I'm Jonas, by the way. Are you new too?
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They're... annoying, yeah. I've got a brace on it, but I don't know how much it's helping. [He's... not going to fidget. There's nothing to be nervous about. It's fine, now, probably. Fugo's fingers tap restlessly on the surface of the table, before he pulls them back and sticks them in his pockets. Totally casual.] ... Fugo. Sort of. I haven't been here as long as some people, but I arrived back in the autumn. [He makes a face. Can you believe it?] Back during Samuin, their version of New Year's.
[Who the fuck celebrates the new year during October. It wasn't a bad holiday (the lanterns were nice!) but the timing felt completely off.]
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it'd be impolite to bring up something so personal soon after they just met, but it's hard to resist knowing he might be able to help. assuaging fears and keeping people on track is usually jonas' schtick—evidently his usual calm is inaccessible at the moment, another great reason why he manages to shut up about it.
his voice lowers so as to not disturb the song's chorus.)
What is that, three, four months? None of this must be really surprising to you anymore... (this place is bustling, busy, but it's difficult to imagine remaining her for such a long period of time.) Are you parked by this fire waiting for somebody, or are you relaxing while you can?
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[He shifts to idly watch some of the children play around with their wands, mimicking the more complex dances and movements of their parents and older siblings.]
A little of both. I've been stuck at home for a while. [He pauses, then supplies--] ... because of my ankle. A friend invited me out, but mostly I'm just enjoying the fresh air.