Haunted House College AU

[worthallthis]

While the army is covering tuition, it doesn't cover living expenses, and temporary work on-campus is better than temporary work off-campus. So when the drama department managed to raise funds for a haunted house in one of the frat houses, James put on his best "I can kill you with my pinky" look, a shabby suit (shabby is really all he has, so, lucky), and his growing out hair loose around his face and "interviewed" for a spot as in-character for a creepy fucky as possible.

He had to refuse the first offer to be one of the ghosts inside. Dropping the character and donning a slightly sheepish smile, "Really not that keen on jumping out an' scaring people. Especially the ones that get punchy when they're scared." When the interviewer looked at his resume, saw his army tour (the whole "captured and tortured" thing isn't on there, but it doesn't have to be), she just nodded and stuck him at introductions and taking tickets. The pay isn't great, but it'll cover meals for a while.

So he shows up for opening night, gets his face done all pale with stage-make up and his suit a little spruced up with a very fancy shirt underneath from the costume department, and takes in the faces of the other people who'd been brought on.

Comments

[shadowsran]

"You're still talking to me, you hold doors open, you make good conversation - you're nice. Don't go fighting it, then it just makes you look humble." He's personable, at the very least. Got a very natural likability about him. Some could well be owed to her willingness to engage, but plenty of people just rebuff.

Following leisurely, she commandeers a cup and starts in.

"True connoisseurs go for blue, but I can respect that."

[worthallthis]

"Yeah, and I absolutely cussed you out earlier this evening. You must take that better than most people." James actually has better self-esteem than most of his iterations; something about not spending seventy years as a slave. Not great, maybe, but a lot better. So "humble" is only sort of a thing.

"Do I look like true connoisseur to you?" he asks, filling his own monster-sized cup. Cherry, dammit. "I am a heathen in all things, and happy to be."

[shadowsran]

"I deserved it, and believe me, I've dealt with meaner." One isn't ejected from their home without previous altercations aplenty, after all.

Opting for a sophisticated and careful blend of blue, purple, and lime green, she sets about acquiring it. Careful, overlapping layers, a 3:2:1 ratio so deliberately poured it would be a lengthy process for anyone without practice. Aesthetically pleasing, delicious. Classy. "It's good to know you're so easy to please, a beginner cooking course is gonna blow your mind."

A Kit Kat is carefully selected from a nearby wire rack. Healthy choices only in this store. Halloween spirit, or...something.

[worthallthis]

Since the ice drink was what she'd promised, James doesn't consider the candy much. He's just excited enough about the drink, to be honest, this is good shit. He might actually not be hungry for a while, between that and the beer and pizza.

"Well, okay, I'll give you that. So have I." Dealt with meaner people, that is. He trails after her to the register, putting the cap on his drink and stabbing through it with the straw.

[shadowsran]

"Exactly. Better to try and mend the bridge a little, shake off anything that rattles me, have a nice walk home." Nothing to scan but the candy, and a few taps of register keys later it's only trading off a five for change. Steep, but such is indulgence. It's all held in one hand, and she pauses upon exiting the building to appreciate the air. Autumn. So good.

"'Meaner' an army thing, or just come up in a rough area?"

[worthallthis]

In answer, busily sucking up slushie, he holds up the metal hand and lets a few gears whir noisily. So... not exactly an army thing, but the whole "captured behind enemy lines and tortured" thing sucked pretty bad. Those were some real assholes.

He speaks after a moment, to add, "Army was mostly pretty good guys. And gals."

[shadowsran]

She hums at that, expression flickering to something much more unamused. Concerned. There's no happy story behind that, couldn't have been even before this all but confirms it.

"I'm sorry, about that. Whatever it is. Was. I'm not pressing for a story, I mean, I just--" She's far from the type to trip over themselves to appreciate the troops, but he's clearly seen something ugly, and that she can appreciate. Respect. Mourn, a little, in a broad empathetic sense. "Glad you're home now, I guess? Safer."

[worthallthis]

He doesn't get as much of that as he could, given he doesn't talk about the whole army, POW, arm thing... and he hides the arm. He's pretty lucky he even got out and the doctors here didn't keep him locked up, to be honest, and he's pretty sure there only a couple people from his former unit that he has to thank for that.

So in the face of it, he's torn between awkward and solemn. "Yeah," he finally says, "Me, too." Then, a pause, and he adds, "I couldn't tell you most of it, anyway. It's all classified and shit."

[shadowsran]

"Which is fine! No burning curiosity here, just, um, sentiment in passing. Moving on, back to the parts where you're the maniac going just-cherry." A grin, only a little forced. Prompting, hopefully. Steer them to calmer waters for the remainder of the walk. "I'll be crossing my fingers a cooking course will help you refine that palate."

[worthallthis]

"What's wrong with cherry? It's my favorite." And as he's passed by that convenience store a couple times, and splurged once, he's getting his damn favorite flavor, and a lot of it.

[shadowsran]

"It needs to be cut with something at least!" A laugh betrays how non-serious this debate is. "It's so tart on its own, I can't imagine getting through that much at once! You can't chase cherry with anything."

[worthallthis]

"They put enough sugar in any flavor of these that it tastes sweet to me," James says with a grin, and pointedly slurps up more of it. "Besides, I did say I'd eat pretty much anything."

[shadowsran]

"I guess I like that in people, but I'll keep my fingers crossed classes do you good." Unlikely, but hey, it's all she has to rib him with. "My entrance is the next one up ahead, do you want me to run one of my course lists down or just keep it on hand for - whenever I see you next? Getting late, I wouldn't want to keep you."

[worthallthis]

"There's still two more nights of haunted house, so if you're on both nights, you'll see me," he promises. "I'm still getting paid for this shit. I need that money for more food." He mock-salutes her with his cup.

[shadowsran]

"Good! I'll see you then, then. Gives me time to narrow it down into something neat. Get home safe, we need talented new blood to stick around!"

This is punctuated with a little bow as she reaches the door, and the calculated polite amount of watching after him as he continues on.

No calling it good, that would be presumptuous. But maybe a night pulled out of the red.

[worthallthis]

The next night, James is back at the haunted house, but without quite as much time beforehand to chat-- not to avoid anyone, but because he had a shift at his other job, so he couldn't get there quite as early. So he's getting rushed through makeup when Misty finds him.

"Hey, evening."

"Stop moving," the makeup artist says grumpily.

"Sorry," James says sheepishly.

[shadowsran]

There had been perhaps just a little panic he was actually a fantastic actor who had every intention of bailing semipolitely after last night, so Misty honest to god sighs a little at the sight of him. Not driven off. Good.

The chiding even nets a grin.

"Hey! Was worried you wouldn't make it, there. Some kind of game cancelled, so you might want to expect a bigger crowd tonight. I've got stuff for you, but I think I'll just wait until break? Or close, you'll probably want to eat."

[worthallthis]

"Maybe after," he suggests, trying not to smile and annoy the makeup artist. He can hear her heartbeat settling, as if she'd been actually worried. Jesus, does he matter that much? Would it have changed a damn thing if he hadn't shown up? "If it's gonna be that busy, I'll need to grab a snack on the break."

And maybe not have a panic attack, this time. That'll help a lot. But he's pretty sure she, at least, isn't going to do anything stupid.

[shadowsran]

Whether or not he'd been ready to bail certainly would matter. There would be guilt to reckon with, and just as importantly, she likes him just fine. Nice being able to look forward to seeing somebody.

Nobody will be doing anything stupid, if her strategic self deprecation and sternness beforehand was in any way effective. If not, words will be had. For now: a glance over what makeup has been applied, and an approving nod.

"Go hard on the eyes," she says uselessly to the artist, quite understandably eager to be done with it. A fist is raised and all five fingers splay out at once. A pop. Exaggerate the hell out of his shade of blue. "I'll see you in the break room, best of luck."

An echo of his salute, and she's sauntering off into place. As warned, it's a busier night - not necessarily worse behaved, but not better. In larger numbers, it's more amusing mishaps. More bodies hustled through an enclosed space that relies largely on distance between groups to function, which proves a fun challenge for more spirited actors; to continue hitting the appropriately timed mark, or invent new ones in time for the next group.

Fun stuff.

[worthallthis]

It's busy enough, and requires enough interaction to spook and/or flirt with people to keep the crowd moving at the right speed, that their mid-show break is spent doing nothing but cramming pizza and cookies and beer down his throat and getting his make-up touched up. He barely has time or energy to do more than wave at Misty, grin at a couple of the zombies, and then zoom back out to delay a few arrivals he hears even from inside.

Then the night's over, and he just slumps to sit against the door frame at the front of the frat house. "Jesus, that was exhausting."

[shadowsran]

Really digging deep and channeling the shreds of extroversion within, Misty seems fairly revitalized when she finally crops up to check on him. It's better he look tired than upset.

"Takes a lot more stamina than people might give credit for, huh?" Grinning, she offers the bottle she'd luckily thought to bring out with her. Easy for one to expect a much more relaxed, fun-only position. "You did great, for whatever it's worth. I heard compliments, even."

Not many, considering the point of such a house is to keep idle conversation at bay in favor of manufactured suspense, but some. "Worth the exhaustion."

[worthallthis]

"You heard compliments?" he repeats, with a kind of amiable skepticism. "Someone was talking to Ophelia about guy taking tickets?" He's still smiling, at least. "I'm just out of practice, I think. I haven't had to be all outgoing and talkative like this in a long time." Let alone in character! Sure, he'd played roles for people, whatever one of the girls or Steve or something needed, but not quite like this.

[shadowsran]

"Not to me, specifically," she laughs, waving a hand. "But one or two mentions from people just getting in, and Emma's friend comes to all of these and hadn't seen you before - couldn't talk long without breaking character, but I caught at least approval." There's no set bar to reach, amateur and amusing as all of it is intended to be, but it couldn't hurt to know one is doing well. "Thankfully you've got the night to recoup, now. Take the gravelly voice easy, get a couple words in without a spooky punchline. Usually a quiet type, then?"

[worthallthis]

He picks himself up again, dusting off his ass from the dusty concrete. "Nah. Believe it or not, I used to be a clubber, back in high school. And a mosher, actually." R&B, rock, pop, punk, anything you could move to. He shrugs with a helpless little grin. "Can't really handle it anymore."

[shadowsran]

"A mosher!"

Oh, the delight on her face. It's a pleasant surprise, nice, when people manage to surprise you in those little ways. And an amusing set of opposing trajectories for the pair of them, considering: "Nothing like that at home, and I don't think I'd have managed even if there were." No comment on the past tense, because - well, it's not a reach to guess why he might have changed that tune. "Intimidating. This is a cakewalk compared to that, I'd think. Makes sense you'd need a breather, but I'm glad you stuck it out. Heading inside to polish off the last of the craft table, or heading home?"