[ti]closed[/ti]Dancing with the Stars (On Sand)

ZZZT ZZZT

Orion looked down to his phone for a moment and saw that Abbey had texted him back.  One leg was bouncing nervously as he unlocked his phone and went to read it, smiling slightly as he did so.  

"Ayo!  Those wheels look sick!  What's the top speed on that bad boy?
Also party foul, It didn't cross my mind to see if you needed me to pick you up.
It's not too much of a hassle getting out this way is it?"

He frowned, setting his phone face down on his thigh, keeping his right hand wrapped around it as his left hand rested on the bouncing knee as if to hold it still.  The jitters migrated to his fingers, tap tap tapping away along his knee cap.  Also sorts of questions danced around in his head.  Was he dressed alright?  Did he use the right scent of bodyspray?  Did he smell okay?  Did he get the right drinks?  Did Abbey even drink?  Could she operate that cycle while under the influence?  Was this a date?  Did she think it was a date?  Did he think it was a date?  

Orion had never really had a hard time with the ladies, blessed in equal parts with charm, good looks, and great social connections.  Yet he was never one to presume how someone felt about him, and he always erred on the side of caution in order to keep himself from coming across as an asshole with middling results.  Yet it'd been a fat motherfuckin minute since he had pre maybe date jitters like this.  Maybe it was because it was because he'd been single for so long, maybe it was because the woman on her way to spend time with him was Blue.  Sure she wasn't the spunky sailor suit wearing knockout that he'd danced through hell and highwater with, but she was the woman behind the mask.  Add in the fact that he was feeling like a fish out of water outside his hometown, and complications that came with her wheelchair and maybe it was just the fact that this whole thing was just alien to him. 

Taking a deep breath, Orion shook the doubt from his head and reached into his jacket fishing out a medium sized silver flask filled with a bit of liquid courage.  He took a quick glance around, looking for cops or Blue, the former was because he was unsure of Cali drinking laws, the later because the last thing he needed to do was make her think he was an alcoholic.  Once he was sure to cost was clear he took a quick swig and stashed the flask away for potentially later.  He checked his phone again to see if she'd texted him, but also to see the time.

7:12

Motherfucker.

Zzzt Zzzt

The buzz of his phone sliced through the silence and tension that was brewing in his heart like one of those 4000 degree knives through butter, drawing Orion's eyes down to the offending rectangle faster than you can say "You've got mail."  A flick of his thumb and a wave of his fingers were the magic spell that revealed her missive, leaving him puzzled.  

Was she flirting with him?  Or teasing?

Orion was aware that he did in fact have a nice butt, it was one of his greatest Ass-ets.  Forged through good jeans and leg day he was proud to say he did in fact have buns, hun.  Yet her drawing attention to it drew a flush to his cheeks as he thought about her gazing at his glutes and finding them cute.  His leg bounced nervously as he pondered how best to reply, if she was flirting responding to that energy would be totes okay, it would be an escalation of mutual feelings.  But if it wasn't?  

Well that would be fucking cringe.

Taking a deep breath, Orion began to compose his reply.

20 MPH?  Fuckin Hell Blue you'd fucking smoke me, what do I look like?  Usain Bolt?
As for my cute butt?  You bet your ass I spent like at least an hour in character creation making sure that VR didn't cheat my cheeks.  Spent another hour working out which bandanna to grab too.

He paused with the message "Can't wait to see you" half typed, before tutting and deleting it, before pausing again.

Stoked for you to get here.

With that sent he would begin lugging the heavier bits of the picnic supplies down out to their set lot, trudging through the sand and past countless lit bonfires as all sorts of people sat huddled around.  He'd been pretty smart and picked one of the further spots, secluded in a larger patch of unlit lots and away from others for a semblance of privacy.  A couple groups where gaggles of friends roasted mallows or vibing, and more than once he pasted a group that was clearly toking up on some of the very legal California Kush.  Yet more often than not he trudged past couples wrapped in eachothers arms staring doe eyed at their partners.  It was definitely a romantic spot, that was for sure.

Spot claimed, he would spend a moment to prebuild the fire before heading back to his car to get some of the lighter stuff (and a lighter) when the telltale whirr of an engine alerted him to his dates approach.  Hopping out of his car all cool like, he would take a few carefully choreographed cool kid struts towards her as she closed the gap and presumably came to a stop near him.

"Evenin Blue, good news and bad news.  Bad news is I saw a sign over there-" he motioned vaguely off to a plethora of beach rule signs posted by just about every beach entrance known to man.  "That says no cool kids allowed, but the good news for us is I didn't see any cops so I think we're good." A goofy grin spread across his face as he delivered the punchline to his own joke before motioning back towards the beach.  "I've got most of the stuff at the spot already, we're at lot 23."  Pausing, he'd subtly check out her outfit.

Oh yeah, this was a date, he was like ninety three percent certain at this point.

"You look great by the way."

"Speak for yourself."  Orion quipped back, pulling out a pair of aviators to put over his eyes.  "I'm a wanted man in like, thirty states for being too freakin cool for school."  Sunglasses at night were like, the penultimate form of cool kid suave, or so Orion had been told (not that he needed to be).  Truth be told he was more nervous than he'd been facing down Corrupted horrors beyond comprehension, at least in the game he was a functioningly immortal badass, he could let his HP drop to -420 and he'd be fine for the most part.

There was a very real chance of fucking this up, and that was horrifying.

Still, fear was the rizz killer, and Orion wasn't about to make this weird, he and Blue had chemistry after all.  "You do have a point about the homies at the con, I had to give several Cayge cosplayers lessons in proper man care today.  The amount of dudes who thought it was a good idea to rock a tank and nothing to mask the pit stank?  Too damn high."  Striding alongside Abigale as they meandered down the beach.  Part of him wanted to help push her chair along as the sand as the engine slowed, but that was like, at least third date material.  

Once they reached their firepit he would set the last of the gear he'd been trudging along with him on the blanket he'd gone ahead and laid out, plopping down on the cooler as she detached her engine.  It was fascinating stuff, watching how she navigated all of the things he'd taken for granted.  It appeared it was time for the date to start in earnest and she was just as flustered as he was it would seem.  Her question was proposed into the chill of the evening, and Orion quickly responded.

"Well I mean, that depends, ya know?"  He'd reply rather nonchalantly despite feeling very chalant.  "As a bit of a pie professor I could tell you that the optimum time to enjoy some fresh za is just about anytime.  Piping fresh is fucking great, but will sear the roof of your mouth off if not eaten with proper pre blowing and doing the thing where you underestimated how hot it is so you're like trying to blow while chewing."  He'd pause and pull his shades down to peer over them.  "But I think we're probably past that stage, so we can practice safe pizza munching procedure.  I think we munch down, have a bev or two, and let the vibe begin to manifest.  How bout you Blue?"

Orion made camp quickly, a blanket was unrolled and the pizza was pensively placed in a position picked for minimum potential punting problems.  The speaker was set up in a scientifically selected spot so the sonorous soundwaves would surf the sand succinctly.  Two paper plates were purloined from a pouch of his party pack, and a white disk effortlessly frizbee'd it's way onto Abby's lap.  With his other hand, his phone would be plucked from his pocket and with one hand he would begin the art of pairing to the speaker and pulling up the music she sent him.

"Well, it's showtime."

Orion would hit play, and the pulsing of drums would fill the air, followed by the funky strumming of an electric guitar.  Instinctively the fighter's body began to groove along to the beat, a sashay of his hips and a gently bob of his head as he began to sync his moves to the music.  Not quite dancing, but definitely slipping into the cultivated vibe like one would slide slowly into a hot tub as the vocals kicked in.

Hey Orion?

His gaze flit to her, and as she spoke his brow would knit together for but a singular moment.  The phone would be set aside, and he would peer at her from atop his sunglasses as he pulled them down, eyes studying her carefully.  "Oh shit, party foul, yeah."  Aviators would be whisked from his face and set to rest hanging from the collar of his shirt.  "This is Orion and Abby hangin, not Caygematch n Laguna adventuring."

But what exactly did that mean?  

Clearly Orion was still Orion, there was next to no difference between himself in and out of game.  There was no role playing or obfuscation, just a genuine guy working out some shit through poketherapy and punching punkasses.  But what about her?  How much of Laguna transposed to the real world?  How much of Abigail made it into the game?  He was the devil she knew, but he didn't know anything about Abigaelle.

But he really wanted to.

"I know Abby is already a nickname, but I'm shortening it further to Abs."  A smirk played across his lips, "Unless you absolutely hate that, in which of course I'll call you Abby."  As her face grew red for some reason, he turned back to the ice chest he'd lugged and kicked it open stylishly, hiding the own light blush that was starting to form in response.  Why was she blushing?  Why was he blushing?  Was this a date? 

This felt a lot like a fucking date.  

"As for drinks, well I have no clue what you like so I kinda picked up uh, a little bit of just about every basic I could find, way more than we can drink so like-" he'd pause and turn back to her.  "Don't go thinking I've planned some rager, I just cast a wide net.  There's red wine chillin in the bag, white whine chillin in here, couple of white claws, some angry orchards, couple of just light beers.  If you're not about alcohol at all I have a couple of bottle of coke, sprite, and grape faygo.  If you like harder shit..."  He'd slide open his bag and pull out a few small plastic bottles.  "I brought Bacardi, Titos, and Fireball.  If you smoke, I have cigarettes and a juul on me for nicotine fixes.  If you like Green I have a bit of bud and a dab pen if that's your sort of thing.  Otherwise that's the bottom of the list.  What can I fix up for ya Abs?"

"Ron?"  Orion asked with a raised brow.  "I mean like, sure I guess if you just wanna kick the I out of me I guess."  A shrug would follow before he plunged his hands into the cooler and fetched out two bottles of Angry Orchard and turning with a flourish, flipping one suavely in his hand once before striding back over to join her by the pizza.  Dropping onto one hand he would her the beverage with both hands, ensuring the label was turned to her mimicking the fancy wait staff that served his gramps. 

"The catch?"  Orion's raised brow would waggle, "Oh please, I need you to know that the Southside hospitality package has no catches.  I've been raised a perfect gentleman by my family.  I'm all yes sir and no ma'am, I open doors for old ladies and help women cross the road."  He would take a pair of pizza slices, slapping one on his plate before taking a bite of the other and letting out a soft grunt.  "Aaaaaaaaand"  He would begin again, chewing quickly so he wouldn't be talking with his mouth full.

"I am certainly not a fucking cop.  The only badge for me are the one's you get for goomba stomping gym leaders in pokemon."  A snicker accompanied his words as he settled down next to her.  As she explained her drinking habits to him, Orion nodded along with her words up until she began to trail off.  A frown tugged at the corner of his lips as he raised his own drink to his lips and took a sip.  Without thinking he simply placed one of his hands over hers and gave it a gentle squeeze.  

"I think I get it."  He'd offer, flashing her a reassuring smile.  "I fuck with apple juice more personally, but if you put a Welch's juicebox in front of me?  Or better yet you whip out a fuckin caprisun?  I will put a HURTING on those motherfuckers."

When she cleared her throat, he'd listen to her question and take another swig of his drink before eyeing the firepit and realizing he'd yet to set that up.  Setting his food and drink aside he'd shrug off his jacket and get to work building a small fire, humming along with the chorus of the song now that he knew the tune.  Clearly Abby had some great taste in tunes, and he was diggin the vibe thus far.

"I haven't been beachside in years unless you count UNOVR, and uh, well if you count that I spend a shitload of time seaside bro-ing down with Bee, er, Bryan?"  He'd shake his head.  "Did I tell you how he found me at the con?  I was surrounded by Bandannaditos tossing me C0D13 plushies to put the hurt on and he showed up with security.  I was certain I was gonna get tossed out and suddenly he's asking me for my autograph."  He'd fish a lighter from his pocket and let the fire slowly take to the tinder in the middle.  Gently he blew into the center, a low wooshing sound filling the air as the fire fed upon the fuel and breathed to life.

It almost looked easy.

"But I take it you mean the former and not the latter, in which case.  I haven't been to the beach since I was like...ten.  Ma was real fuckin insistent we go to Florida and see her sister Beatrice.  Kinda grumpy spinster of a woman who likes to pinch cheeks a little too hard for my liking.  But yeah, haven't been to the ocean since Ma was still around."  Standing up he'd look at his phone to see what else was on the playlist as the first song slowly began to wind down, squinting as he scanned the title.

Alright, banger, banger, lots of Dan Avidan...including his cover of Get Lucky?  

Alright this had to be a date.  The regular Get Lucky was like, definitely a dance hit, but you did not load an acoustic cover of Get Lucky onto any platonic playlist that was for fucking sure.   

"What's it like working at Hydance?"  He'd ask as he made his way back to his initial spot and flopping down.  "Is it a pretty sick gig?"  He'd inquire as he grabbed his pizza and took another bite.  "Also, let me know if any of these tracks are like bangers you're dyin to dance to."

  

Orion had never had too terribly much trouble getting along with people, his family situation has left him more than socialized enough to fit in most circles.  Never alone in a party, always able to blend in and make some friends.  Yet very rarely did he find himself so engaged as in this moment.  Sure, he liked making people smile because that was a cool thing to do, but making HER smile?  

Like drugs.

He hung on her words as she spoke, leaning forward and nodding along, eyes alight with the simple joy of the moment.  "I dunno, I could listen to you talk about your work forever, honestly."  He sighed warmly as he took another couple hungry bites of Pizza.  "But hopefully this is not the last time I spend sitting in the sand with you."  The fire continued to grow, crackling tongues of orange licking their way out of the center core of flame.  Someone more poetic would make an analogy about budding relationships, or another pretentious romantic metaphor about something slow burn.  "So I suppose I shall let you save me all of the wonders of your super fucking awesome job for later fireside chats."

Damn, he definitely wanted a second date out of this.  

"Abigaelle Gauthier,"  her last words left him aghast, his hands clutching at his imaginary pearls as he recoiled in comical disbelief.  "Did you just ask to Get Lucky with me?  On the first date?"  Oh there was that pesky D word, out in the open as the young man staggered to his feet, grin replacing grimace as his eyes lit up in the playful fire of whatever it was that was blooming between them.  "I'll have you know I typically make people wait for the third date for that sort of thing but...for you?"  He would bow low and offer a hand.

"Well let's just say I won't make you stay up all night to get lucky."  

A soft wink was offered, as he took a few more steps to close the gap.  "But that beggars the question of logistics...how do you want to..." His free hand, not extended to her motioned softly betwixt the two.  "Do this...I guess I should...carry you yeah?" 

This was a...sensitive question, and one look upon his face showed the level of respect and care he was doing to approach this...tastefully.  It wasn't every day you just danced with someone in this sort of condition, and it wasn't just anyone you trusted to carry you in their arms.  But he wasn't going to ignore this part of her, and if he wanted whatever THIS was to work out he sure as shit needed to learn how to navigate it quickly.

"Just uh, set your boundaries and I'll do everything I can to respect em, yeah?"