sunfloras | 𝕚𝕥'𝕤 𝕒 𝕧𝕒𝕞𝕡𝕚𝕣𝕖 𝕨𝕖𝕖𝕜𝕖𝕟𝕕

No.

[ That is Monts' only answer. What is she saying no to?

South Sister had opened up and thanks to doors found around the islands, people were able to go back and forth between their worlds and then back to the accursed place. Monts found herself frequently visiting to check up on her friends. She thought she had lost her chance to deepen her bonds when she was sent back to her world with memories still intact. Monts didn't like South Sister, but she liked the people she met here.

Yes, even Father Abel Nightroad.

But as they stand before the entrance of an ominous carnival full of rides and attractions, Monts finds herself revaluating how much time she wants to spend here. ]

I'm not ten years old.

[ ominous? OMINOUS?? what about this carnival is ominous?! it looks like sweet, innocent, perfectly wholesome fun~!! what was there to be apprehensive about, honestly...?

...okay maybe he just wants any and all excuses to eat fair food and he is not accepting criticisms about his life choices at this time,

in contrast to Monts' hesitation, Abel is grasping her by the wrist and - with the utmost enthusiasm - dragged her excitedly into the bustling sights and sounds and delectable scents of the Carnival!!! he is like an over-eager child and Monts, by association, has no choice but to Suffer with him. ]

--I'm sorry, but 'no' simply isn't in my vocabulary at this point and time... You'll have to try it again later~! [ MOTORING right on in and bulldozing over any protests, he's flashing her a bright and cheery smile over his shoulder!! ] Hey, hey Miss Monts - what should we do first?! Are you hungry...?! --Ooo, funnel cake...!!

[ Before she can even protest some more, Abel takes her by the wrist and she's taken to the other side and straight into the fray. God help her.

Maybe she should have specified she didn't want to go with him. If it was Megumi and Itadori, for sure she'd drag along the younger boys and treat them, but here she is being pushed around by a priest and now she feels like the surly teenager in this case (it's called preferential treatment Monts, you should get that fixed).

She understands Father Abel to know enough that he'll probably whine if she tries to walk away without him so she'll just. Entertain him for now. ]

If you want to try out the food, be my guest. Whenever something appears on this island, there's always a catch.

Yes, and the catch part is me catching it in my mouth. Hungrily. And with vigor.

[ he's keeping hold of her wrist and he isn't relenting in the least as he tugs her through the array of bright lights of the attractions and food stalls; honestly, is he suspicious of all this...? considerably. please, please, he isn't a complete moron (citation needed) and Abel's well aware that Fogtown had a mind of its own with a decidedly cruel twist, at times.

...even so. it could also be unexpectedly kind, couldn't it? and sometimes, it was harmless. he could hope, alright? he could hope.

Abel's sending another glance over his shoulder at her, completely ignoring her sour expression and grudging acquiescence. ]

Oh, come on...! You're not going to make me eat all alone, are you...?! That's so boring. You don't want to be boring, do you...?

[ Her response is quick and snappy. ]

You're paying for both of us.

[ There is no mercy for this carnival jaunt. ]

And I don't like funnel cakes all that much. Shaved ice or pretzels will be fine though.

Wow... boring and cheap.

[ judgmental look... ]

And not only that, but you're telling me you have horrible taste as well? Who doesn't like funnel cake?? Next you'll tell me you don't like caramel apples, either.

[ Hey. Hey Abel.

It's that smile of hers again. You know, the one that looks pleasant, but there's barely concealed rage that only has been directed at him so far (well, other people get it too, but they're not here so). ]

Father Abel.

[ wow. wow, it's that smile. wow. there's that icy crawl up his spine. but he's pretending he doesn't notice anything, playing oblivious as he merrily continues toward a food stall selling large soft pretzels and different fountain drinks-- ]

Hm? Yes, my dear? Please, whatever could be on your mind...?

[ Hello, here's a hand on Abel's shoulder and immediately, he should feel a vice-like grip on it. ]

Let's pause and take a breather for a moment alright? I'll let you know what you can buy for us and how long we can stay here. Got it??

[ --err. he's faltering a step, his pace slowed by her abrupt IRON GRIP on his shoulder... and while he's laughing with an anxious edge, he waves his hand in nonchalant dismissal-- ]

O-oh... so you stopped being boring, Miss Monts...? I'm so glad to hear it~! Welcome to the party!! Well, then -- by all means, lead on!

[ She's gripping even harder oh god-- ]

I'm fine with most carnival foods, but I don't find stuffing myself a pastime I want to adopt. I'm even willing to try most of them, save funnel cakes, so if you just calm down a little and we go about a leisurely pace...

...

...

[ She points behind him. ]

Then I won't leave you alone with him.

[ SURPRISE THERE'S A TALL CLOWN BEHIND ABEL ]

What on earth did funnel cakes ever do to you...?! Honestly! Is this some kind of complex...? Did you choke on one as a child? Did one kill your pet goldfish...? Maybe we need to sit down and have a talk about this deep-seated issue from your childho... hood, hm--? Who, now?

[ ....tapering off-- wait, wait. what was that about 'leaving Abel alone with him?' he's angling his head around to over his shoulder-- ]

[ --and nearly careens right into her as he jumps back a good foot and a half, tripping over himself with a loud squeal (--my, that was impressively high-pitched??); he scrambles to cram all 6'4 of himself behind her to cower pitifully. MONTS?? MONTS????? HELP, ]

N-- no, no no no. NO. I do NOT do clowns. No! Tell h-him, NO, thank you! We do not want any! If he makes a balloon animal, I WILL vomit, I swear on the Good Lord's name--

[ The tall clown who has been clutching at a bouquet of balloons tilts his head at the two of them. His face is extremely painted on, so much so, that it's hard to tell if he had an actual face. That seems to be the case for most of the carnival workers that are... Clowns.

Monts, being herself, takes it in stride and allows the giant lanky priest to hide behind her. ]

The Lord says to love thy neighbor. See, I didn't forget all of the Sunday school lessons.

[ In fact, he even offers Monts a single balloon and she takes it graciously. ]

You know, I'm starting to turn around on this. The carnival is fun!

[ ... Fun because there are clowns to clown on the priest in ways she can't. Lovely. ]

[ he is, true to his word, making a dramatic dry heaving noise behind her because of course he is, leaning over as if he's suddenly and dramatically ill. one cannot accuse him of not being a committed actor, at the least-- ]

U-- ugh, p... please, please, pleasepleasePLEASE make him go away...!! I'll be good, I'll-- I'll be GOOD, I swear~! Pleeee~ase Miss Monts... [ doubled over, he's tugging plaintively on her sleeve with a teary-eyed expression of desperation and pure woe....... he Cannot??? he Cannot, with the clowns.

HE CANNOT. ]

[ Balloon Clown leaves thankfully and Monts turns to face Abel. She pokes him on the forehead. ]

Are we going to behave and not run around the carnival lest we make our clown friends mad? If you hadn't noticed, I think most of this place is staffed by them.

[ he groans in a most melodramatic fashion as she pokes him, eyes going cross... but, looking miserable, Abel inevitably nods. ]

Y- yes, yeeees, I hear you loud and clear... alright? You win, you win...

[ sniffling, he's rubbing his face on his sleeve and giving her a dejected look. wow?? so mean...? she better not abandon him to a Clown-beholden fate or he'll never forgive her... ]

W...will you hold my hand if he comes back...?

You're not a child. But I'll have your back if that makes you feel better.

[ At the end of the day... Monts doesn't have it in her to be totally heartless to him. Father Abel was strange like that. ]

... I'll buy you a funnel cake first. Then you buy me shaved ice.

[ --immediate 180, abruptly straightening and lighting up as if this gloom had never befallen him at all-- ]

Ah, really...? W-well then~! What are we waiting for...? --Oh, um, you can lead the way, of course~!

[ he's learned his lesson. (probably.) ]

[ And so she leads them around the food stalls first so that he can snack to his heart's content and she can just nibble at whatever she's willing to try. Monts almost half-expects for the food to have bad aftereffects, but aside from the offputting clowns with very painted faces, it's all quite normal.

They're nearing more towards the games and rides now and there's a particular stall that catches Monts eye. There is this beautiful whale at the shooting range game and she pauses to just. Look at it.

It's cute ok. ]

[ Abel, to no one's shock, is more than happy to inhale just about whatever he gets his hands on - either he's quite confident there's nothing to worry about, or it's a risk he's decided is worth the payoff.

...guess which one it is,

regardless, he's licking sugar and frosting from his fingers as he finishes the last bit of funnel cake and a deep fried chocolate chip cookie, looking entirely too pleased with himself as they near the game stalls. and he cannot help

but notice

a particular wayward glance toward a whale, to their right... Abel is eying her, and then the whale as if to ascertain whether or not this is what's caught her attention, before clearing his throat and leeeeeaning obnoxiously closer. ]

Hey, Miss Monts... are you a good shot? What would you say to a friendly competition...?

Hm?

[ Monts turns to Abel pursing her lips when he presents the question. ]

I'm not going to inflate credentials that aren't there, so no...

[ Hol' up a minute ]

Are you saying you're a good shot?

Terrible, actually~!

[ he flashes her a wink and a grin, before he's - once more - taking her sleeve and all but dragging her toward the stall. ]

Oh, sorry; it's too late to say no...! You accept, right? C'mon, you surely won't turn down a nice friendly challenge... what do you have to lose? [ h-heh. HEH, ]

We're going for that, [ he gestures to the whale, ] so you better give it your all, got it? The winner gets the whale and bragging rights for the next millennia, so you'll be properly incentivized to give it your all. Okay, okay, get your pistol. Go on!

[ There is something sus about Abel here... Hm. But Monts doesn't push back from his challenge and lets him pull her into the game. The clown staffer overseeing the stall passes two pistols and with a doubtful expression, she gives one to the priest. ]

Well, alright. We're here so might as well.

You do realize you're the one who will carry it no matter who wins right?

Ah? But of course! What man would make his doting, sweet Carnival date carry her own prize, Miss Monts...? Goodness, do you think I was raised in a barn?

[ but he doesn't give her any time to mull that one over, taking his pistol and making a good show of looking suitably clumsy with it :) haha, guns :) wow :) he has no experience with these, wow,

...she is about to get destroyed, ]

Al~right, are you ready~?

life's a carnival

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