placeholder Who: Zania and Rost When: Friday, Oct 20, afternoon Where: the Witches Festival Status: Complete
The weather had cleared out beautifully since the rain that morning, and Rost was feeling rather invigorated with the sunshine. It was a lovely day for a festival, and this one happened to be one of Rost’s favorites. He knew some of the Actual Real Witches didn’t like it, but it always had a celebratory feel to him. The atmosphere was fun, even if some of the details were fudged and some of the people who came to set up booths and tents were frauds.
Rost had decided to go busking again this year. He was Roma, after all, and his people had long been tied to magic in the minds of the Western public, so he might as well make some extra pocket money off of it. He’d gotten dressed as he normally did, maybe with a few extra scarves tied to him, all bright colors and mismatched patterns, picked up his guitar case, and headed down to Main Street. Rost had found a spot to set up near where most people were sitting and eating food -- people always loved to be musically entertained while they ate -- setting out his open case in front of him and ducking under his guitar strap. He tuned up and started to play and sing, launching into an upbeat song from his childhood. Nobody but him would understand the words, but he was content with that. He would enjoy himself even if nobody tossed money into his case.
The festival might have been a crock of shit, but Zania loved it. They were celebrating witches, dammit, not hanging them or burning them alive! Granted, they didn’t believe in them, but that actually made life easier and she knew it. But she’d still take a festival in her ancestors name, as well as a chance to mess with people here and there. She’d had fun in the booth in the morning, but had handed it over to Nic for a while, needing to get out and stretch her legs a little, perhaps get something to eat.
As she waited in line to buy herself a snack, she found herself swaying to the music, her dreadlocks bouncing around her bare shoulders. She’d worn them down today, a bright mess of red that matched her corset, paired with black leather pants and a peasant blouse. Over the top witchy, yes, but perfect for this kind of thing. Once she had her food in hand, she began to look for a place to stop and eat. That’s when she spotted Rost, the music maker. Zania smiled to herself, then marched right over to take a seat next to him, plopping down in the grass without invitation as he continued to sing.
Rost knew his music so intimately, backwards and forwards, he didn’t have to concentrate very hard on playing it. It gave him lots of room to people-watch, which was one of the best parts of street festivals like this, and so he saw Zania coming. She was difficult to miss. Rost grinned around his lyrics, not minding that she helped herself to some of his space in the slightest. There was plenty of it to go around, after all. He finished up his song with a flourish on the strings, then stopped so he could greet her properly. Zania was one of the witches in town he’d hit up often for magic wards on his home in the cemetery, and Rost happened to adore her. He ducked out from under his guitar strap and sat down next to her, looking over at the food on her plate with some interest. “Enjoying yourself?” he asked, settling his instrument on his lap.
Zania clapped as Rost finished his song and smiled at him as he joined her. Though he wasn’t a witch, she had a lot of respect for him and the knowledge he held. He and his people knew things, magical things, that worked despite not possessing magic themselves. She’d only seen that happen a few other times so far and found it fascinating every time. They may not be witches, but they had power. “I am,” she smiled. “It’s always fun to see who turns up here and what they’re looking for. Mostly tourists, very few of which want tea, but I got a couple new customers for the back business.” She knew the key was to find a way to advertise herself without giving herself away to everyone. It took a little magic on her part, but she’d managed it. “What about you?” she asked, then nodded towards the guitar case. “Looks like you’re doing okay today.”
“Not too badly,” Rost agreed with a grin. “I am having a wonderful time.” He had some money to collect, but he would leave it for now. Having bills in the case encouraged other people to put bills in the case, that was always true. He’d made a full living doing this back in New York, but cities were very different. This busking was more for fun than profit. Rost made his money elsewhere. He knew Zania made most of her money in the ‘back business,’ he’d been a customer of hers for years. Rost had tried to make friends with as many witches in town as possible, so he could stay protected, but besides that, he genuinely liked Zania. “Good to hear you are making new networks. How have you been?” he asked, idly strumming his guitar a bit.
Zania bobbed her head to the beat of his playing as she considered the question. “Good, but a little bit bored. Nic says that’s when I’m most dangerous,” she laughed. “Business is fine, but I could do with some excitement. A new project maybe. A challenge. I’d cook something up, but the cards tell me there’s something in the wind. I dunno.” The future could be finicky. It was rare that she truly understood what she was reading in the cards before it happened. More often, she understood them after it had all come to pass. It didn’t stop her from occasionally consulting them though. In this case, she’d learned that she needed not to make things more difficult for herself. Something was coming on its own. “I got new neighbors. Nephew or grandson or something of the old lady that lived there. They seem interesting.”
Rost nodded a bit, understanding that. He was a believer in the powers of divination for people who could do it -- whether by natural talent or being blessed by the spirits or whatever -- but he also thought that the future wasn’t static. It was always shifting, moving, adjusting to decisions made in the present. Sometimes you could get a glimpse of possibility, but few things were predetermined. That didn’t mean they weren’t meaningful, though. “Ooh yes?” he said, sounding interested. New people in town always caught his attention. “Interesting is good. I have a couple of new interests as well.” Rost flashed her a gold-toothed grin. Dev and Greer had surpassed ‘interesting,’ but he could get into that later. “Tell me of your new neighbors.”
“So, I’ve only met the girl once, but I see them coming and going, and they keep crazy hours like we do. Lem, the girl, is this tiny sprite with a shaved head and a beautiful smile, and this energy that just-- it feels like she’s something, but I can’t say what. Not like me, but something. And Vex, he’s this giant with crazy hair, and I haven’t officially met him yet, but I feel like I should,” Zania explained stretching her legs out in front of her. She wondered if Vex had the same energy as Lem, or if it was different, or just normal like everyone else. From what Nic had said, she didn’t think normal was a possibility. “I would’ve been fine not having neighbors, but they fit the neighborhood, I think.”
Rost nodded along with Zania’s descriptions, trying to picture these people. If they stood out that much, he was sure he would see them around town eventually. He didn’t doubt Zan’s perceptiveness that recognized them as Others -- there were plenty of people like that everywhere. Especially in Point Pleasant. “Then I am happy for you,” he told her. “Perhaps they bring the challenge you crave.” Maybe not, but you never knew where things like that were going to come from. He could vouch for that. Rost fingered a little tune on the guitar, then gave Zan another sunny smile. “I am in love,” he told her. It felt like news, and Zan was someone who would understand the dynamic, Rost felt sure.
“Perhaps,” Zania nodded with a smile. If it wasn’t them, it was something else, she was sure of it. She just had to be patient, something Zania had never, ever been good at. “Oh really,” she beamed back at him, surprised, but happy on his behalf. “That’s definitely something new. Who is she? Or he? Tell me about them.” She might not have much of a love life of her own right now, but it would come around in its own time. Until then, she just had to live vicariously through her friends.
Zania was the first person Rost had really told, and he found himself kind of giddy. He didn’t want to overly gush, but at the same time he really, really did. “It is both, actually,” he said, feeling his cheeks warm with pleasure just thinking about them. “A couple, Devlin and Greer. They are newcomers here, in from California on family mission ... but we were staying at Juniper at the same time, and were all drawn to one another, like fate. I am enamoured with them both, and they are the same. I am so happy, Zan.” That was probably obvious from the look on his face, but Rost thought it was worth saying, too. “They are finding a house to rent to stay for a while now. You would love them both, we must all meet up.”
“Oooooo,” Zania grinned. “That’s definitely exciting.” It didn’t bother her at all that it was different, or unconventional. It made him happy and that was what mattered. People got so hung up on conformity and normality, when really they should be more accepting of everyone’s differences. That was what made the world an interesting place, after all. “What kind of family mission?” she asked curiously. When most people said mission, they meant in relation to a church, but she didn’t know many churches that would be okay with that kind of relationship, sadly enough. “I’m so happy for you, Rost,” she said, giving him a little nudge. “I would love to meet them sometime. Just let me know when and where and I’ll make it happen.”
Rost had known she would understand and approve, and it thrilled him that he’d been right. He genuinely thought they would all get along too, Zania had the same sort of wild spirit as his new loves. It was why the two of them were friends in the first place. “Thank you,” he said first, beaming at her for a moment as he gave her a gentle nudge back. “I will. It is, I believe, Dev’s grandfather used to live here. He left some hints of secrets in a journal, they are here to see if there is anything to be seen. I have been a distraction.” He gave another grin that wasn’t in the least bit sorry about that, then arched an eyebrow at Zania. “How is your brother?”
“Ah, well, tell them to be careful. Some of the secrets around here are best kept buried,” Zania said. She would never want to discourage them, but Rost knew as well as she did that there were dangers in Point Pleasant that weren’t as prevalent other places. Hopefully he could steer them away from too much trouble. “It sounds like they’re enjoying your distractions if they’ve decided to stay,” she grinned back at him. “He’s been good. A little distracted lately. I can tell something’s bothering him, but he doesn’t seem to want to talk about it, no matter how much I pester. I’m hoping he’ll fill me in eventually.”
Rost had already talked to Greer and Dev at length about the town and the dangers he knew lurked there. He’d also made it clear that there were surely other dangers he didn’t know about. But he didn’t see much harm in taking things one slow step at a time in their diving into what Papa Morrow was up to. There had to be wonderful things to find in this town as well. Still picking out little tunes on the guitar strings, he nodded a bit to what Zania said. Rost knew her better than he knew Nic, and he hadn’t been around his own siblings in years, but he still remembered how tricky family dynamics could be. “Secrets are like skittish cats,” he said wisely. “You must just sit and wait. They will come into the light eventually. I hope it is nothing serious.”
Zania smiled and nodded, amused by the image of Nic as a cat, even if she knew Rost was referring to the secrets, not the person with them. “Yeah, when I bug him about it he just runs away or hisses at me,” she snickered. “But you’re right. I’m sure he’ll tell me when he’s ready. We don’t usually keep a lot from each other.” She’d always thought it was part of being twins, but she knew that a lot of people thought they were weird. They didn’t get it, they never would, and Zania didn’t usually care enough to try and explain. But Rost seemed to get it. He was cool like that. “I worry about him sometimes. He doesn’t get out as much as I do.”
Rost didn’t have a twin, but he understood there was a special bond there between them. It was admirable to him, to be so entwined with another human being, to know them so intimately. It was a little enviable, really. No one else in the universe was going to know you like the person you shared a womb with. He didn’t think it was weird at all that Zania and Nic were so close; the world could be extremely lonely, Rost didn’t blame anyone for clinging to their partner in life. Whatever form they took. He was feeling fairly clingy with his own at the moment, though he was experienced enough to know that connection might be fleeting. It felt strong for now, and that was all Rost needed. He tried to live in the present. “Is he here now?” he asked, glancing around them like Nic might just materialize because they were talking about him. “This is a good place to be out.”
“He’s working the booth while I take a break and eat,” Zania smiled. “And hang out with you.” She shouldn’t stay gone too long though because this really wasn’t his thing. He was just fine in the shop, and would sell people whatever they wanted if approached, but he wouldn’t play the same kind of games she did, not with complete strangers. Things like the curse box and the lollipops were wasted on him. “But you’re right. When I’m working, he wanders a bit and that’s good.” That’s what she assumed anyways. He could just go find a place to hide for a while, but that seemed a bit silly, even in her head.
Maybe Nic had more of a life than Zan knew, and that was what he was keeping from her. Rost wasn’t going to suggest that though, because it was all pure speculation and not his business anyway. He gave Zan a sunny smile and leaned over to bump his arm affectionately into her shoulder. “Lucky me,” he told her. She’d always been one that he had a small crush on, and he always enjoyed her company. He strummed his guitar a bit more, then cocked an eyebrow at her. “Sing a song with me before you go?” They’d made some music together hanging out around his trailer, usually stoned and a couple of vodkas in, but it would be nice here too.
Zania knew she shouldn’t worry too much about Nic just because he wasn’t as social as she was. He had friends. He did his thing. He just didn’t need the same kind of constant interaction with people that she did. If something was wrong, if something was really bothering him, he’d tell her eventually. Zania grinned at the mention of music, always one to engage, even if she wasn’t the best singer in the world. She could hold a tune and wouldn’t run people off, which was what mattered here. “Of course,” she smiled. “It wouldn’t be a party without a little music.” She always liked singing with Rost and over time she’d even learned the words to songs she couldn’t even understand.
Even mediocre voices were made better by harmonies, and Rost was a pretty good singer himself. Passable as free entertainment, anyway. He thought for a second and then started to play a song that he knew she knew. It was in English just for the benefit of their audience -- even in the more liberal areas of the country, Americans sometimes got antsy around foreign languages. Rost had learned that lesson very well. Flashing Zania a bright grin, he started to sing with her. It pleased him that more people who’d been walking by slowed their steps to listen to them. What was a festival without music, after all?