[ti]private[/ti]Can You Keep A Secret?

Pace had become enamoured with these little stamp thingies. They were interesting, and would get him rewards, and also gave him a reason to walk around besides looking at stuff. Don’t get him wrong, Pace loved looking at stuff, but looking at stuff and having a reason for it? There was a reason Pokemon Go had worked so well on his ADHD ass. So while he’s wandering the artist’s corner - getting very distracted by cosplayers and the various prints, plushies and mousepads for sale - he still does have the goal in the back of his mind that stops him from wandering off and doing something else entirely. Either that, or zoning out looking at art he probably won’t buy and wasting five hours until suddenly everyone’s packing up.

He had a lot to think about, after all. He’d come off of the conversation with Percy feeling light as a feather, stiff as a board - not like that - and also hard as a rock. Not like that. It’s a metaphor.
But really, it was an odd concoction of physical ailments that plagued him now. When he’d ran to meet Muin in the lounge, he hadn’t had the time to think or process or stress. That was how Pace had always worked - if he did something now, he didn’t have to worry about it, because by the time it was over he’d barely had time to think about the fact that it was happening. But now, once he’d already finished talking and planned to get drinks the following day, now was when the bugs in his gut started eating him alive. A drink? Drinks? Plural? How many, and how strong, and how tipsy would he be? It was fine. But it was awful and terrible, actually, but it was also perfectly fine. And horrific, in the way staring into the face of death was. Face of death, remember Seta’s trial? That had been frightening. Think about that, his mind cooed, let’s think about familial trauma instead - that’s way easier than hot guys. Let’s think about our mommy issues, instead, it purred. No Percy, just mommy, no Percy, just…

Mommy?

There she was, and the bugs ran off, and the worry seeped away. His brain flicks like a lightswitch, from worry to… well, y’know. He’d seen her very briefly in the Escape Room game, though had focused more on her costume than her face. Because it was well tailored! And she looked just like C.L.A.W, in the… costume department. Ahem. But more importantly, she had successfully located the stamp kiosk, so Pace has no choice but to bump britches with her again - unless this was someone wearing the exact costume, or she had no idea who he was, in which case, he’d just… well, probably introduce himself and try again. She was facing away, receiving her stamp, and then she turns to face the rising sun that is Pace Mahmoud on a mission.

Except his mission fails immediately, stealth roll failed, the big red exclamation point and alert sting from Metal Gear, the wide open Skyrim Sneaking Eye. Because now, actually looking her face instead of her… costume… Pace knows her. In fact, they’d met very frequently, whenever Pace had been with Mars. But… Mars ddn’t play UNOVR, not that Pace knew of, and Pace would certainly have been told. Surely…

“Ariel!” Pace yells as he’d done a thousand times before, and barrels towards her. As he closes in on his poor prey, it’s clarified, that face, it really is her. She looked very different, but that face Pace would know anywhere, despite never seeing them out of a pantsuit and a very swish slicked pony. But here they were… uh… cosplaying. Ariel really didn’t seem the type to be a pokemon nerd, especially not enough for all of this. UNOVR, the con, the cosplay? She looked great but, like… why?

“It’s been a billion years! You look amazing!” He beams, puppy mode activated. “Where’s Mars?” But he shakes his head right after, answering his own question. It was far too busy here for Mars to have arrived and not be swarmed, even if he’d gone incognito. “Nah, he’s at home, isn’t he? Man, I gotta catch up… but you, too! We should catch up! Have you been here long, the whole time, or just today? Or are you staying, too, or just today, I mean?”