[SE] The Art of Peer Pressure

Just smile and be happy.

Zavien's humble abode resides near the Pacifist Plaza, tucked into the alleyway off the main street. He chose the place due to the close proximity to peaceful smiles and delicious foods. It helps that his favorite time of year is most evident in the nearby marketplace. People filter by in jolly moods as they shop for gifts and seasonal treats, laughter giving a lightness to their steps. The chilly snow that blankets the stone walkways is little discouragement when compared with the bright lights and cheerful music. He takes a moment to appreciate the atmosphere, letting the pure emotions wash over him.

There is nothing that can ruin Zavien's mood as he drags the decorations out of his cramped attic. A jovial humming attempts to harmonize with the bouncing music of the street performers. Lucky for them, they are too far away to hear the choking draconic noises being tortured from his smiling face. The strangled sounds can only be admired for their jaunty rhythm, even if it succeeds in missing every beat. But Zavien doesn't care as he lays out his options for merry spirit. Despite his efforts to brighten the exterior, he knows that it will be as successful as sprinkling gems in a Void infected pile of dung. That doesn't stop him from doing it anyways.

Taking a strand of moss green garland, he starts nailing it to the doorframe. The fuchsia wreath leans against its base with burnt sienna paper ornaments dotting its branches. He admires the way they accent the steel grey of his wooden door. His humming continues in providing a horror theme to his nightmarish decorations which he treasures in ignorant seasonal bliss.

Zavien

// and it's alright, that's the way i like it —

Honestly, ever since the announcement that Abandoned were allowed to come to Stormbreak after so many years banning their arrival, Thorn had started to take little treks here more and more. First to the library, but then when he’d realized there was a surplus of shops in the Plaza and some that could cater to exactly what Thorn was looking for, both for work and for anything else, he finds himself here again and again. This time, a bag hanging from his arm that hosts a surprising amount of clothes within it, when he’s wandering down a street trying to get across to another one – aimlessly wandering and exploring.

That’s when he spots a surprising familiar face he wasn’t intending to run into – and gods, with a ghastly looking décor out front of the home. He nearly drops his bag, stepping up toward Zavien with a playful grin on his face and a gentle laugh. “Hey Zavien!” The courtesan starts, head tilting as he scans the wreath and the garland, the ornaments that stand out amongst the myriad of clashing colors. It looks like from a distance someone had dropped paint nearby and it had somehow managed to make a clashing illusion on the Accepted’s door.

“You want some help?” He asks, already starting to set his bag down.

thorn

— getting crucified,
every time you cross my mind //

Just smile and be happy.

His pleasant humming is interrupted by the sound of his name and he turns to find a familiar face approaching. With a huge smile, he shouts in glee, "Hawthorn! What a pleasant surprise!" Zavien meets the man and embraces him in a bear hug. After squeezing him tightly in a merry mood, he puts him at an arm's distance and clasps his shoulders. The child-like excitement is at odds with the burly strength, but he is ignorant and otherwise unconcerned for his size. "It's good to see you! How have you been since the roadwork?" It feels like it's been forever even though only a few weeks have passed and their shared bond over difficult obstacles makes Hawthorn's presence a welcome addition to Zavien's decorating activities.

Glancing at his progress thus far, Zavien becomes self-conscious and a red tint paints his face. He releases Hawthorn and goes back to the front of his townhouse in the alley. The garland hangs precariously and the ornaments are already starting to disintegrate in the humidity. With a giddy laugh, he nervously continues to secure the garland. "Of course! It's not much, but I just want my living space to reflect my inner joy." He looks around and points out a string of rainbow baubles. "Do you want to start hanging those around the window?" The window is dark with navy blue shutters that are barely secure, their paint flaking off in parts. It could use a little bit of color and Zavien is sure that Hawthorn will be the perfect person to spruce it up.

Zavien

// and it's alright, that's the way i like it —

“Ha, yeah.” Thorn says with a bright grin back, one that turns into a little squeak and huff of air with the strength in which Zavien bear hugs him, hugging him back in greeting with little pats to his back until he’s released where he feels like a balloon crushed to have no air in it, trying slyly to suck down a breath to reorient himself. Regardless, it’s nice, and not the usual kind of touch he receives, and its reflected in the smile that’s granted the Accepted’s way – a bright, happy one, to be exact.

Shrugging a shoulder as he’s released, he huffs a little laugh. “Sore, but not terrible otherwise. Work’s been busy and good. What about you?” Given the strength in which he was just hugged, Thorn has to assume that Zavien is back to fully functioning despite the days of labor (and not the kind the courtesan is used to, that’s for sure).

Instructions given, though, Thorn is so willing to help this poor man, nodding and offering a little “sure, I can do that.” as he walks over toward the rainbow baubles on a string, stepping over to the window indicated. At least these can work together well, and if he puts it together nicely it might even hide the chipping paint – something he realizes Zavien might want some help with when the weather gets better. Summertime, perhaps. “I don’t have a room I get to decorate like this, so, if ya ever want some help with designing yours, I know a thing or two about it.” He flashes a bright smile back to the other man.

thorn

— getting crucified,
every time you cross my mind //

Just smile and be happy.

Rolling his shoulders, Zavien assesses his own physical condition. He finds no abnormalities or lingering pains. With a satisfied grin, he flexes his arms. "Nah. I think I'm good. I've just been doing some more training and traveling." It occurs to him that he's never asked Hawthorn what he does. Tilting his head, he considers the man. His guess would be something artistic? Maybe something indoors based on his gentler disposition? But what about his physicality? Overall, Zavien has no idea and he proceeds to simply ask, "By the way, what exactly do you do for work?"

While he waits for Hawthorn to answer, he finishes placing the garland around the door's frame. When he steps back, he analyzes the remaining decorations, looking for what else to add. The fuchsia wreath stands out and he grabs it, planning to add it to the door, but wanting to put some of the ornaments on it. As he picks up a few of the paper balls, he responds to Hawthorn. "You're always welcome here! I don't keep my door locked, so if you ever need a place to stay, just stop by. Although, maybe knock first so I don't think I'm getting robbed?" Zavien chuckles happily at the thought of having a surprise visit from a friend. His mom had always encouraged having a large and loving community based around warm fireplaces and belly-laughs.

A remodel is definitely in order, but Zavien looks proudly at the rundown home. "I'll take you up on that someday! As long as it still stands as a beacon of safe refuge to others, I'm all for a redesign." An image of joy and comfort with a multitude of people coming and going makes Zavien smile, hoping that one day the dream comes true.

Zavien

// and it's alright, that's the way i like it —

“That’s good.” Thorn says with a softer touch of a laugh – pleased to see his newfound friend is doing well since they’d last spoke. As for what he does for work, though, there’s no shame or awkwardness when Thorn flashes him a playful, rougish smile, one typically used for work but occasionally slips out. “I’m a courtesan. I work and live at the House of Midnight.” Not unlike the courtesans that work at Mother Molly’s, he supposes, which he tacks on in a mental list of places to visit considering he’s only just been allowed to come to Stormbreak.

Either way.

The excitement of which Zavien offers a place for him to stay and the freedom and comfort of which he doesn’t need to worry about keeping his door locked is a bright surprise as Thorn works, placing the rainbow colors in strategic points to hide the cracking and peeling paint. He’s always locked his doors, when he had them to lock, anyway. “I think I can manage that.” Thorn offers with another chime of a chuckle, rolling a slender shoulder as he steps back to admire his work on the window.

“Before I started what I do now, I originally wanted to do architecture.” He knows it’s a swift change to go from building and designing buildings to being call boy, but he doesn’t regret it. Half the time he’s in it for the stories people have anyway, and what better way to find out than working at the House of Midnight? “What do you think?” He asks, gesturing to the window, letting the grin spread on his face to something softer and more boyish.

thorn

— getting crucified,
every time you cross my mind //

Just smile and be happy.

At Hawthorn's implicatory smile, Zavien throws his head back in a loud laugh. Although a slight blush accents his cheeks, he just smiles and gives his utmost support for the man. "Good for you! I'm sure you're very popular!" He means it as a compliment with no judgement for the profession. After all, his mom had sometimes worked in the same field. It's a respectable career with an exchange of services between consenting adults. He never understood why some people saw it differently.

Zavien is overjoyed to hear the Hawthorn plans to stop by. Even if his words are just a courtesy to soften the blow, he's excited at the slim possibility that someone might actually visit him. When he opens up about his original aspirations to be an architect, Zavien pictures the same man in front of him, but wearing glasses and dragging around a bundle of dusty scrolls, graphite permanently staining his hands. It seems to be such a contrast to the bright personality before him, yet the light in Hawthorn's eyes as he gazes upon the window's decor gives Zavien a fuzzy feeling of affection for him. If he ever does stop by, they will have a great time hanging out, laughing at each other's stories and sharing their dreams... Perhaps that's just his own delusions inflating his perception of their relationship, but Zavien lets himself enjoy the thought nonetheless.

The carefully placed baubles shine against the navy blue shutters, somehow giving it a mesmerizing festive glow. "That looks great!" He returns Hawthorn's smile with a genuine one of his own before placing his hands on his hips to look at the remaining items. After seeing the skill with which Hawthorn decorated the window, Zavien is questioning his choice in wreaths. Looking to his refurbishing expert, he asks, "In your professional opinion, what should we add next?"

Zavien

// and it's alright, that's the way i like it —

Thorn is very much on the same wavelength as Zavien, even if the compliment has him laughing lightly to himself, running a hand through wild tousled hair with as casual shrug as he can muster. “Popular enough, I think?” He asks with a shade of red blooming in his pierced ears, focusing on his work with the window frame if only to not think about how that compliment had gotten him all flustered (in a nice way, of course).

Instead, he finishes up the window and lets his seafoam gaze flicker to the Accepted as he nods, stepping over to look at the remaining items, a grin seemingly permanently placed on his lips as he scans what’s left. “Hmmm…” Thorn says, adjusting his weight to being mostly on one hip as he folds one arm across his chest and the other rests at his chin, thumb brushing across his lower lip as he scans the building.

He lingers on the fuchsia wreath a little long, head tilting before he finds a few white and dark blue ornaments in the mix to add to the wreath to tie it in with the house a bit more – figuring that the fuchsia might match the rainbow effect to the windows well enough if the baubles on it weren’t too intensely a different color. “Add some neutral colors to the wreath so it doesn’t get lost in the fuchsia maybe?” He asks, holding it up for Zavien to see and get his opinion on it.

thorn

— getting crucified,
every time you cross my mind //

Just smile and be happy.

Zavien notes Hawthorn's blush and his own deepens a shade. "I would expect more than what you're admitting. No need to be humble about it." A knowing wink accompanies his words, refusing to imagine that the courtesan could be any less than the top choice for clients. "Where is the House of Midnight? I've only just started travelling and would love to see your place of work sometime." He doesn't acknowledge the implication his suggestion may have, especially in addition to his request for Hawthorn to visit him. The innocent excitement at having a friend is the only thought in his mind, evident by his naive smile and blissfully ignorant focus on the task at hand.

His eyes closely watch the man expertly working through the decorations. At his addition to the wreath, Zavien must admit that it appears more cohesive than before. "Brilliant! You definitely have an eye for this kind of stuff!" Grabbing the newly transformed wreath with a renewed eagerness, he proceeds to hold it against the door to analyze placement. Should it go high, up by the top? Or maybe in the very center? What about eye-level? Zavien looks to Hawthorn again in uncertainty. "Where do these things usually hang?" His mom had shown him the importance of community and celebrating, but she hadn't gotten around to decorating etiquettes.

While they are completing the final touches on the beautification of his home, a loud grumble echoes off the stone walls. The blood drains from Zavien's face in horror and his hand whips down to grasp his stomach. His blush returns with a vengeance as he looks to Hawthorn, chuckling embarrassedly. "Once we finish up, do you want to join me for some food? I'd love to say thanks for the help. Although, I have to warn you that I'm no better at cooking than I am at decorating." It's an understatement considering last time he had somehow made a salad that caught fire when there were no cooked ingredients, but he is willing to risk their safety as a sign of gratitude.

Zavien

// and it's alright, that's the way i like it —

The wink and the polite confidence that Zavien speaks with is enough to relieve any lingering tension in the courtesan’s shoulders, humming a little laugh as he nods and shrugs his shoulders in a way that says alright, you got me. Even if he didn’t think it was particularly true, it was still enough that someone else thought he did. For now, though, he can offer the location of the House of Midnight with ease. “It’s in King’s End. Meadowreach to be exact. It’s Frey blessed so it’s got rooms that change to whatever you want ‘em to be inside.” It’s a feat that he thinks is incredibly neat, even if one didn’t use it for sexual endeavors.

It's easy talk while he fiddles with he wreath, deciding what ornaments to adorn it with and what kind of look it might give off given the state of the house it’ll be placed on, and he’s almost a little self conscious about the choices when he shows them to the Accepted. It escapes him instantly as Zavien grabs the wreath to put it up and he tilts his head as he looks for the best placement. “Top, near the middle?” He suggests, before straightening up and helping with the other little bit of decorations here and there until he hears the grumble of the other man’s stomach.

Hiding his snicker behind his hand, Thorn nods to him eagerly. “Yeah, sounds good. And it’s okay, I’m not really a good cook either.” He offers – finding some commonality between them in yet another space, and Thorn thinks it’s likely he’s just found another friend. “I’m sure Stormbreak’s got lots of good options for food, yeah? Got any recommendations?” He asks as they start to finish up, and clean up any little mess they’ve made in the process.

thorn

— getting crucified,
every time you cross my mind //