stardiving | IC Inbox (Victory Road)

Boy. Checkout lines, huh. Dirk has no idea what's going on at the register; there's at least twelve people between him and it. Forgetting that normal people have things like "jobs" and "schedules," he made the mistake of stopping in at the PokeMart during the lunch rush--and yeah, he could put everything back, leave, and come back later, but when all's said and done, that's actually a less efficient use of his time than simply waiting. He has a tournament to prep for, these Hyper Potions and Revives aren't going to buy themselves.

Which is fucking weird, actually. He understands the function of physical stores, especially in the context of food or medical supplies, even clothes, but why the hell doesn't this world have some kind of Crocker Corp or Amazon style megamonopoly doing same-day delivery? Pidgeys and zigzagoons or whatever have got to be more ethical than drones and overworked human delivery drivers with no air conditioning and a GPS tracking their piss stops--

This is where his train of thought is at the point where he's stacking onigiri vertically in his hand, shopping handbasket hung from the crook of his elbow, expression flat and blank as ever while he expertly places the flat side of one triangle atop the rounded point of another. If you didn't know better, you could almost think he was having fun.

They're awful, especially when on aforementioned schedule. Hour long lunch breaks are still not a concept Estinien likes, considering the relative lack of hard schedules he's had in his life til now, but he's taken up an odd job that has given him a bell and a bell only to eat something.

Thus the boxed lunch, canned coffee, and annoyed look on his face as he takes his place in line, watching over everyone's heads as the current person checking out laboriously goes over their collection of coupons for the pile of things they've dropped on the counter.

That Estinien is putting more effort into understanding the holdup than Dirk might say more about Dirk than it does about Estinien. Or maybe it's the fact that Estinien actually has someplace to be at a time that isn't entirely made up in his own head. (Which... again, might say more about Dirk? We'll just let that one go, though.)

Spotting Estinien, at least, gives him something that isn't thinking about the obvious (to him) gap in the convenience sector of capitalistic enterprise and how much he personally is not the person to get involved in that, even though apparently he's the only one who has so far considered it enough to get this far in his train of thought--he wobbles his onigiri tower for a few seconds by weaving his hand from side to side, overbalancing it on purpose--just enough so that they all fall back into the basket. It's very slick.

Then he picks one back up (pickled plum, in case anyone cares), hucks it back, and lobs it at Estinien's head. Appropriate behaviour for a public place? No. Not even remotely. But in his defence: he knows Estinien will catch it.

Or he believes he knows that, anyway.

There's also the simple explanation that he's easily tall enough to see over everyone in front of him. It's a contributing factor at least. That and his bafflement over the little slips of paper that are definitely (he thinks?) not money, why does this woman have so many of them--oh Fury, now she's arguing about dates? Why...

He's stopped from wondering if he can open his coffee even if he hasn't paid for it yet by a blur of motion out of the corner of his eye that in an instant resolves itself into a missile heading straight for him and there's a moment of totally not panicked juggling as he shoves the can (good thing you didn't open it, huh) into his elbow and catches the thing just before it nails him in the eye.

"...was that necessary?"

Because of course he recognizes Dirk, now that he's not distracted by flying rice balls.

Dirk watches Estinien flounder for almost an entire second before he figures out his inventory at the last possible instant--but he does figure it out, and he catches the rice ball, which is exactly what Dirk expected to happen. Which gives Dirk a fleeting moment of satisfaction at being right.

Whether or not it was necessary doesn't even register to him as a concern, though. So he shrugs, low effort and noncommittal.

"It worked. Now toss it back, I haven't paid for it yet." He lifts a hand, ready to receive the poor rice ball.

"Actually, what are you doing here? I didn't think you did public appearances. That's not even a gag. I don't think I've ever seen you actually exist in a fucking store or out getting coffee or anything. What the fuck."

Edited 2022-08-31 07:50 (UTC)

Estinien sighs, wondering exactly what life choices he'd made that led to this moment, before giving the plastic wrapped thing an underhanded toss back.

"I try not to." Though he does have to actually eat and can't survive off of ambient aether. "And when I do, it's usually earlier than this."

He'd...not overslept this morning, but he definitely had found it more difficult to get up. For reasons that he is certainly not going to get into with Emet-Selch's lover, because he does at least have some sense of self-preservation.

IC Inbox (Victory Road)

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