[ 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.
[ 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...?
[ 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,
[ Why is he like this! He's the only one aside maybe one or two other people in her life that keep throwing her off balance and off-kilter. Also? Date?? Priest? Dating??? A PRIEST????
Abuela would have words!! But he's not giving her any room to argue back, but she is glaring at him. ]
Fine, fine. I have a feeling I'm still gonna get mad at you.
[ h-heh, heh. he deeply enjoys the fact that he can Do This to her. this is powerful. he feels powerful. he is POWERFUL.
--but he is giving a little noise as the water starts shooting out of the gun toward their targets!! go time...!!!! and he's eying her to see how she's doing; he decides he wants to give her the futile hope that she has a chance
before he crushes her spirits with decisive victory
because he is a kind, good friend. HOW'S IT GOING OVER THERE, MONTS... ]
[ Not as bad as she could be really. Close enough to the center of the target, like three to five rings away from it with consecutive shots. She'll rack up enough points to win this handsome gentleman but in the back of her mind, she really did want the giant whale.
The fact that she gave it a good go seems to lighten her up or at least not as riled up as Abel made her. ]
[ normally, Abel would be all about finding new and exciting ways of failing this task miserably to the most comical effect possible. however, considering there is a prize to be won in the name of satisfying one Miss Monts' wayward eye... he is feeling a little motivated to actually do the thing,
thus!! it's quite astounding, his luck, you see. just beginners luck that also just so happened to net him precisely the number of points required to get her whale friend...
...which he is reaching his hand out at maximum length to retrieve from the Clown attendee (DO NOT APPROACH HIM), before thrusting it out awkwardly and nearly bopping Monts in the face with its plushy side. EXCITEDLY: ]
--Ah! Would you look at that...? I'm a natural, Miss Monts...!!
[ She half-expected the pistol to have its harmless ammo ricochet out of its barrel and into his glasses. Not because she wanted that to happen, it just seemed like something that would happen to him.
But it doesn't. And it explains his overly confident attitude in regards to the shooting range because he got a LOT of points. That is not a coincidence and Monts is right about her initial suspicions that Father Abel is one weirdo of a priest.
The large side of the whale plush squishes against her face, but she's too busy looking at him with a neutral expression. ]
... Naturally good at something you've obviously done before.
Congrats on your win though. I'm sure you can annoy the whale plushie out of your home knowing how skilled you are.
[ 'one weirdo of a priest' is probably the gentlest description for this idiot; Monts is terribly kind, isn't she...? he, meanwhile, is still occupied beaming pleasantly into her (c-cute, squished) face as she :|'s at him ]
What? --Oh, don't be silly. This isn't for me, of course. [ prodding it... against her face.......... ] Here~! He looks like he'd be much happier going home with you.
[ Monts looks surprised when he offers the whale to her. She hesitantly reaches out to wrap her arms around it?
And it's a good thing he can't see her face now because she looks uncertain and unsure. Why is he like this? ]
...
[ She's hugging it tightly now and it's easy to tell with how squished the whale was becoming. The smaller shark plush sits near her legs since she can't hold both. ]
Thank you.
[ It's muffled, but it's a thank you. For an instant, it's like she is 10 years old, enjoying the toy that was gifted to her. ]
[ --Abel is turning, clearing his throat and looking out toward the row of stalls ahead of them. y-yes, yes, it's fine, of course, she's... she's silly, isn't she? ]
Hey, you're not going to complain about having to carry that around all night, are you...? We're not going home early because of it, just so you know... --Ooh, do you think they have one of those cheesy fortune telling machines? Do you believe in that stuff, Miss Monts?
[ With her face pressed against the whale, she takes a deep breath to regain her composure before peeking behind the giant plush with a cheerful smile on her face. ]
Those all sound fine.
... But I did just realize that I could use this to whack you with it like a pillow.
[ he'll just pretend he didn't notice her c-cutely burying her face in Mr. Whale's soft body okay, ]
...Really? Here I am, kindly gifting you sea friends and your first thought is to use them for violence? Are there any animal rights activists in Fogtown...? Maybe I should ask Admin, hm. For shame, for shame...!
Mm, they're a little unwieldy to carry around with you. Just don't forget where you stick it, alright?
[ speaking of clowns, Abel will just continue to eye up the one behind the nearest booth as if he's half afraid the man is about to clamor over the stall and strangle him to death any second now,
....it's a valid concern, ]
Why did it have to be clowns... Who likes clowns?? Why...? I have so many burning questions.
Do you have a grudge against clowns that I should be aware of?
[ It's not like she doesn't think they're disconcerting, but perhaps she is just mentally tougher in this case. The staff is going about their business, cleaning up any trash, keeping an eye on their stalls. It should be noted that despite how explosively bright their face paint and outfits are, they don't speak much causing things to be eerier than they should be at this carnival.
There's a nearby table with a sign indicating to leave belongings on top so Monts does just that. ]
Alright... So you wanted fortune telling first? I'm game.
Grudge...? No, I wouldn't say that. 'Deathly allergic revulsion' is probably a more apt descriptor... I-I'm a very sensitive man, you see--? And they're terrifying, Miss Monts...! Surely you agree...
[ he's looking at her expectantly for validation, here, as she sets the spoils of their pistol-ing upon the table. ]
--Oh! Oh, right right! Fortune telling, definitely~! Have you had your fortune told before? I'm a little excited, to be honest... Don't they tell you about your love life sometimes too? O-oohhh, what if it's scandalous...?!
[ he's ambling off (and rambling off) in the direction he'd seen the sign-- come along, Monts, what could go wrong with a harmless peek into your future...?! ]
Yes, yes, you're a sensitive 6-foot giant priest who's intimated by clowns and has an equally sensitive stomach to boot.
[ there's your validation Father... ]
Not exactly my fortune, but I've had someone see into a part of my future.
[ Psychics of varying skill were their most common customers at the cafe after all. Monts takes a leisurely pace on their way to the fortune-telling tent. ]
One of our customers is this little girl who has precognitive powers. It's not so much looking into a determined future, but more like a future possibility if that makes sense?
...Wait, really? [ oh, heβs nudging at his glasses as they walk, eyes alight with curiosity. ] So, did whatever she saw come true then? Or did it not end up happening...?
[ kind of wants to ask what it was......
...but, he canβt tell if itβs too private a matter to pry into hm π€ ]
[ even after all the odd and seemingly inexplicable events of Fogtown, sometimes it was still hard to believe things so far outside his own experience. but this is much easier to swallow as fact than it would have been months ago; heβs adjusting, little by little. to truly be able to see the future... even if it wasnβt set in stone?
...Abel hesitates, before he tilts his head ever so slightly in quiet inquiry. ]
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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. ]
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...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...?
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[ 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?
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[ 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!
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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?
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[ 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~?
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[ Why is he like this! He's the only one aside maybe one or two other people in her life that keep throwing her off balance and off-kilter. Also? Date?? Priest? Dating??? A PRIEST????
Abuela would have words!! But he's not giving her any room to argue back, but she is glaring at him. ]
Fine, fine. I have a feeling I'm still gonna get mad at you.
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[ h-heh, heh. he deeply enjoys the fact that he can Do This to her. this is powerful. he feels powerful. he is POWERFUL.
--but he is giving a little noise as the water starts shooting out of the gun toward their targets!! go time...!!!! and he's eying her to see how she's doing; he decides he wants to give her the futile hope that she has a chance
before he crushes her spirits with decisive victory
because he is a kind, good friend. HOW'S IT GOING OVER THERE, MONTS... ]
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The fact that she gave it a good go seems to lighten her up or at least not as riled up as Abel made her. ]
Oh. I guess anything's possible if you try.
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thus!! it's quite astounding, his luck, you see. just beginners luck that also just so happened to net him precisely the number of points required to get her whale friend...
...which he is reaching his hand out at maximum length to retrieve from the Clown attendee (DO NOT APPROACH HIM), before thrusting it out awkwardly and nearly bopping Monts in the face with its plushy side. EXCITEDLY: ]
--Ah! Would you look at that...? I'm a natural, Miss Monts...!!
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But it doesn't. And it explains his overly confident attitude in regards to the shooting range because he got a LOT of points. That is not a coincidence and Monts is right about her initial suspicions that Father Abel is one weirdo of a priest.
The large side of the whale plush squishes against her face, but she's too busy looking at him with a neutral expression. ]
... Naturally good at something you've obviously done before.
Congrats on your win though. I'm sure you can annoy the whale plushie out of your home knowing how skilled you are.
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What? --Oh, don't be silly. This isn't for me, of course. [ prodding it... against her face.......... ] Here~! He looks like he'd be much happier going home with you.
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And it's a good thing he can't see her face now because she looks uncertain and unsure. Why is he like this? ]
...
[ She's hugging it tightly now and it's easy to tell with how squished the whale was becoming. The smaller shark plush sits near her legs since she can't hold both. ]
Thank you.
[ It's muffled, but it's a thank you. For an instant, it's like she is 10 years old, enjoying the toy that was gifted to her. ]
1/2
the 'thank you' that follows is a little soft, too. a-ah. Monts...? ]
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Hey, you're not going to complain about having to carry that around all night, are you...? We're not going home early because of it, just so you know... --Ooh, do you think they have one of those cheesy fortune telling machines? Do you believe in that stuff, Miss Monts?
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Those all sound fine.
... But I did just realize that I could use this to whack you with it like a pillow.
[ oh no ]
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...Really? Here I am, kindly gifting you sea friends and your first thought is to use them for violence? Are there any animal rights activists in Fogtown...? Maybe I should ask Admin, hm. For shame, for shame...!
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[ At least she doesn't seem totally averse to it now even if there are way Too Many Clowns. ]
Let me just set it down and we can continue on our way.
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[ speaking of clowns, Abel will just continue to eye up the one behind the nearest booth as if he's half afraid the man is about to clamor over the stall and strangle him to death any second now,
....it's a valid concern, ]
Why did it have to be clowns... Who likes clowns?? Why...? I have so many burning questions.
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[ It's not like she doesn't think they're disconcerting, but perhaps she is just mentally tougher in this case. The staff is going about their business, cleaning up any trash, keeping an eye on their stalls. It should be noted that despite how explosively bright their face paint and outfits are, they don't speak much causing things to be eerier than they should be at this carnival.
There's a nearby table with a sign indicating to leave belongings on top so Monts does just that. ]
Alright... So you wanted fortune telling first? I'm game.
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[ he's looking at her expectantly for validation, here, as she sets the spoils of their pistol-ing upon the table. ]
--Oh! Oh, right right! Fortune telling, definitely~! Have you had your fortune told before? I'm a little excited, to be honest... Don't they tell you about your love life sometimes too? O-oohhh, what if it's scandalous...?!
[ he's ambling off (and rambling off) in the direction he'd seen the sign-- come along, Monts, what could go wrong with a harmless peek into your future...?! ]
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[ there's your validation Father... ]
Not exactly my fortune, but I've had someone see into a part of my future.
[ Psychics of varying skill were their most common customers at the cafe after all. Monts takes a leisurely pace on their way to the fortune-telling tent. ]
One of our customers is this little girl who has precognitive powers. It's not so much looking into a determined future, but more like a future possibility if that makes sense?
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[ kind of wants to ask what it was......
...but, he canβt tell if itβs too private a matter to pry into hm π€ ]
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There was one time she told me about something she saw and it ended up coming true. Very odd outcome after that though.
[ Monts seems to be in a decent enough mood to confide in Abel about the things that have happened to her at least outside of her unusual condition. ]
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...Abel hesitates, before he tilts his head ever so slightly in quiet inquiry. ]
What do you mean...? Did something happen?
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