Young Writers Society

"Thank you." He did his best to ignore the fact that everything he did was going to be watched closely, and interpreted. It was the guy's job after all. Everyone does it to some extent, usually less than a therapist though. At least a therapist wouldn't be fuming mad if you had a different opinion, or tell everyone else about it since they had to keep their patient's sessions confidential. He stepped in and looked around the place.

The room they were standing in now was a spacious but simple parlor. The walls were a passive light blue with darker blue curtains pulled back and letting in ample sunlight through the tall windows. There was cling-film on each of the windows at the street-view level that allowed people within to look out, but tinted the windows from the outside so it was much harder to see within -- offering privacy for his clients.

There was a couch and two over-stuffed navy chairs with yellow accent pillows off to their right, with a coffee table in the middle that had neatly arranged magazines in the center for people to browse while they waited for their loved one during their session.

"The room's back this way," Ellis said, gesturing towards the doorway directly across from the door to the outside. "Feel free to leave your shoes on or take them off, however you're most comfortable."

He himself was wearing a pair of gray slippers.

Vincent nodded, and kept his shoes on. He took note of the organization in the room before walking into the room Ellis had gestured towards. "How has your day been?"

When Oliver reached the table in the corner, his friends were laughing uproariously at some joke. Unnoticed for a moment, he narrowed his eyes and smirked. Then he flourished a hand and used the other to slide the taco-loaded tray across the table. The tray spun and stopped perfectly at the middle of the table.

"Your orders, my dear comrades," he said, giving an extravagant bow.

Jay--the friend who'd ordered #8--whistled. "You're the best, Ow!"

Oliver slid onto the bench, basking in the attention of his friends. "I know, I know. Let's eat!"

He dug into his cheese taco, appreciating the warm, melted cheese that filled the oily taco crust. Probably a bit unhealthy (and basic, as Maho had said), but still delicious. Speaking of Maho and her recommendations, Oliver did in fact end up stealing a bite of the #8 from Jay. The meat had a faintly smoky, savory taste that blended with the fresh veggies and salsa, and it was all rounded out by the beans and taco shell. Mmm. Maho knew what she was talking about.

In between bites, Oliver regaled the table with a funny story from his classes that day, and he soaked in their laughter like the earth soaked up the sun's rays. They must have stayed there for an hour, laughing and chatting. But eventually, his friends left in groups and pairs, and Oliver was the last one left. He usually was. He never liked to miss out on any interaction that might take place without him.

Oliver drummed his fingers on the table. He was about to get up and head back to his dorm (might as well at least attempt some reading for homework) when he caught sight of someone with gold-highlighted brown hair staring at him from another table. It was a little odd that he was staring at Oliver when he hadn't made any conscious attempt to stand out. Oliver also could've sworn the man said "That's the one." to the woman across from him. But in any case, Oliver did enjoy attention, so he grinned and waved at the stranger.

The stranger was not enthused that he got noticed, and quickly looked down at his churros.

Shy, perhaps? But then what was he doing watching someone, as if asking to be noticed? Interesting. Oliver grinned even wider. He made a snap decision and strolled over to the strangers, casually pulling out a chair and taking a seat. "Hello there. Those churros look delicious, by the way."

The man froze. Oliver also could've sworn that the stranger mumbled "This wasn't part of the plan." Regardless, he responded. "Thank you. My delcious are churros."

Oliver laughed lightly. "May I ask why you were staring at me? I know I'm not bad-looking, but I'm no Mona Lisa."

The man blushed. Like, tomato red. "I was not staring! I was politely watching!"

"Mhm. Absolutely. My question still stands, though-- why?" Oliver's tone was lighthearted, but he watched the two people carefully. It could be something casual (maybe he had food stuck in his hair or something), but analyzing people for ulterior motives was a hard habit to break, especially when the guy had mentioned a plan.

"I... uhh... Hey! Look! Your friends are leaving!"

Clearly an attempt to distract him. It was slightly amusing, but it also raised Oliver's suspicions. "I'm aware of that, yes." Oliver turned his attention to the lady across from the man. Messy ponytail, tacky glasses frame. Hm. What could these two people have in common?

The man then immediately made a beeline for the bathrooms. Avoiding conversation? Also rather suspicious. It could be extreme shyness, but something about this made Oliver think something more was going on.

"I didn't know I was that much of a pain to talk to," Oliver joked to the woman. "Do you perhaps have an explanation? Or, and please be honest, am I that bad of a conversationalist?"

"Honestly? Would not be surprised if he got struck with the urge to poop. That IBS runs deep." She cracked a playful grin. "Who are you, anyhow? I'm Sadie." She offered an awkward little wave.

Oliver laughed. "I'm Oliver. Nice to meet you. Now, I wasn't eavesdropping intentionally, I swear, but that guy said something about me being the one, and a plan? I highly doubt I'm the Chosen One of a fantasy novel, but I'd love to be in on whatever plan this is."

There was a slight blush tinting Sadie's cheeks. "Oh, uh, heh... is that right? You a go-with-the-flow kinda fella huh?"

Oliver thought for a moment. "You could say that. Especially when the flow takes me to interesting things like possible conspiracies. Or involves meeting unlikely duos like the two of you."

"What makes us so unlikely?" She smirked a little. "Birds of a feather and all that. Massive nerds tend to flock with one another."

"Oh? What kind of nerds?" Oliver filed the information away in his head. Could be useful to know people in different industries.

"Computer science on my end," Sadie answered.

Suddenly, the man in the suit ran out the bathroom and sat right back in front of his churros. "Sadie! There was a spider! On the sink! Smack dab in the middle! On the faucet!"

Sadie shot him a look that said she was done with his nonsense. She then sent a meaningful glance towards Oliver, and back at Elias.

"Oh. The man is still here."

"Yes. I'm Oliver, by the way." He smiled. These two were pretty funny, despite their dodging of the question about the plan. He had a feeling he now knew how Maho felt earlier.

"Nice to meet you... Olive. I am Elias, or Eli. Both work."

"Olive. No. Help. I've gotten one more bad nickname today and I don't need another," Oliver declared. "Nice to meet you though, Eli."

Elias then awkwardly grabbed a churro and ate it while making direct eye contact with Oliver. Oliver raised an eyebrow and continued the staring contest with a half-smile.

"Ooh wait, time-out, pause, what are the others?" Sadie perked up with a mischievious spark in her eyes.

"Absolutely not. I'm not doing this again." Oliver broke eye contact with Elias to cross his arms in mock annoyance. Then suddenly a glint entered his eyes, and he leaned forward. "Actually, I'm down for a trade. I reveal the great mystery and fascinating lore of my horrible nicknames, and you two tell me about your plan."

"Sadie, you're 100% sure you background checked this guy?" Elias dipped his churro in the chocolate sauce and took another awkward bite.

"What background check?" Oliver was used to people knowing about him through the fame of his parents, but still, 'fessing up to a background check was bold.

Sadie pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration.

"... Okay, to be fair, you said that I could say virtually anything out loud."

"Just because you can say anything doesn't mean you should. But in this case, tell me everything." Oliver looked between Sadie and Elias with interest.

"I'm actually pretty sure I told you to say virtually nothing."

"First amendment rights! And, no, you said I could run my mouth off!"

"Please, just tell me, you two." Oliver interrupted them before it could devolve into a prolonged argument.

Sadie sighed, looking at Oliver for a long moment. "How... do you feel about..." She sighed again. "This isn't how it was supposed to go."

Elias tried to sneakily exit the restaurant, and take his churros.

Oliver stole the churros and placed them firmly on the table in front of him. "You're not going anywhere. I'm going to keep these churros hostage until you guys spill everything. I'm intrigued now, and I want answers."

"My churros!" Elias pouted a little and crawles back into his seat.

"The aristocracy," Sadie said. "You were born into it. Are you intending to stay, or do you want something bigger in your life?"

Oliver raised an eyebrow. "Depends on what you mean by bigger."

"Better," Sadie said, not actually clarifying anything. "Some--"

"How vague. Lovely." Oliver leaned back in his seat. "Pardon the interruption."

"A movement that lifts everyone up, not just a handful of the disgustingly rich... no offense... unless you deserve it."

"I am rich, but hopefully not disgustingly so." Oliver considered that for a moment. "Actually, no, my family is filthy rich."

"The riches aren't synonomous with the filth, but they tend to go hand in hand," Sadie said. "Just curious where you sit."

"I'd say I sit pretty deep in the mud, but I have a way of slipping out of messy situations." Oliver smiled tightly. "But really, how realistic is your movement's chance of success?"

"It'd be more realistic if our fearless leader didn't spill his guts." Sadie sent another annoyed glance towards Elias."

"Your leader?" Oliver asked.

"Hi, yes... thats me!" Elias waved meekly.

"Kind of. Work in progress." Sadie crossed her arms and looked at Oliver coollly, clearly trying to regain control of the conversation.

"Mhm." Oliver didn't bother to hide his flicker of skepticism.

"I do have a whole whiteboard with plans."

"Wow. A whole whiteboard."

"It's a big whiteboard!"

"It's a good plan," Sadie interrupted. "But that's all it is at the present: a plan. And plans don't execute themselves. We need people to gather info, people to make connections -- this isn't something we're going to go charging into half-cocked. It's also not something we're going tell you all about until we know where your alliances lie."

"Understandable." Oliver tapped the table thoughtfully, passing the churros back to Eli as he did so. He wasn't convinced that they had any real chance of making an impact, but the idea was certainly intriguing.

Sadie nodded. "Anyway, part of the info gathering is on people. We weren't planning to engage with anyone tonight, and I apologize for disrupting your evening with this frankly appalling approach. You threw a kink in the people-watching we had planned."

"Plus, I know you like pasta. We can go to an Italian restaurant!"

"Bribing me with pasta, eh? I might consider it if they have alfredo." Oliver smiled, then turned serious again. "Well, thank you for answering my questions, but I'm afraid I won't get involved just yet. It seems too new right now-- fragile, like a baby bird that might not survive the night."

"...Are you kidding me? Why, I oughta..." Elias stood up, holding a churro menacingly.

"Eli, shut up," Sadie snapped, glaring at him for a moment.

Oliver held up a finger. "But. I wasn't done. Ask me again once you've gathered more members and more power."

"You know, I had an Olive Garden giftcard... but..."

Sadie rolled her eyes at Elias, but looked at Oliver seriously. "We could... or, you could help us pick those people. This isn't going to be a widely broadcast thing. We need a team we can trust. Would you really rather I be responsible for that, without you getting a say on who is or isn't invited into the inner folds?"

Oh, that was some clever phrasing right there. Offering him a chance to be a part of the founding members and the inner circle. That was likely something that would be more difficult to achieve if he joined the organization after they'd matured a bit. But then again, they might fail early on and everything would be moot anyways.

"And! Sadie says she needs more help 'keeping me composed' or whatnot." Elias said this in a serious manner, which was odd considering his earlier mannerisms.

"Oh, and does she think someone who makes you run away after five seconds of convo can keep you composed?" Oliver chuckled, but the drastic change in Elias's manner was interesting. Maybe he had more facets than it seemed. The question was, did those facets include the ability to lead effectively?

"I think you'd be a valuable asset to our movement," Sadie said. "Not one I'm going to beg for, mind you, but one of the top people on my radar thus far... Alfred."

Oliver stilled for a moment, then smiled. "So your background check was that thorough, huh?"

Sadie smirked a little. "Background check sounds a bit more sterile than I conducted. But you've been well-researched, yes.Again, not going off the cuff with our selections."

"I see. Well, I'm still not entirely convinced, but I'm intrigued enough to be open to another meeting, and perhaps to keep an eye out for other recruits."

"I'll have my people call your people," Sadie said jokingly. "Just kidding, I have no people. Want my cell number? Text or call is fine once you've figured out a schedule."

"Oh yes, I'll give you the number of my secretary." Oliver's eyes twinkled. "Just kidding." He held his phone out to Sadie.

Sadie cocked an eyebrow and took the phone immediately.

Suddenly, Oliver grabbed it back. "That was probably not the wisest move, huh? With you being a computer science nerd and background checker and all. I'll write down my number for you."

Sadie laughed at that, seeming not at all surprised or offended that he'd realized his mistake. "I mean, I wasn't going to argue. But no, not the smartest move. Here, I'll just text you. What's your number?"

Oliver scribbled it on a napkin and slid it over.

Sadie rolled her eyes. "Okay Boomer, thank you." She took the napkin and punched it into her contacts.

"Alright, Zoomer."

Sadie smirked and stood up, finally offering her hand for a shake. "Nice to meet you, Olive-- wait a second! You didn't hold up your end of the deal, Mr. Olive."

"Darn, you caught me." Oliver rolled his eyes dramatically. "Okay, here's the lore. My last initial is W, so one of my friends started calling me Ow and he's never stopped. And then today, I met this person who called me Ollie. And then you guys come along and call me a fruit. I've always been fine with the name Oliver, but apparently it's too easy to make embarrassing nicknames out of."

"Ollie-ver Ow," Sadie snickered, and opened his contact again to change the name.

"No. No you don't." Oliver tried to snatch at Sadie's phone, but she moved it away, cackling maniacally.

"It's perfect. Code name."

"It's horrible. It's the worst name in the history of all names."

"Is that a challenge?" she raised an eyebrow.

"You know what? What if I save you as 'Sadie-stic'? Or, no, as 'Sad'?" Oliver opened his contacts app.

"I mean, what's stopping you? Here, give me your phone. I'll save it myself. And totally nothing else."

"Nuh-uh, not making that mistake again." Oliver twirled to keep his phone out of reach. "Hang on, what about 'Shady Sadie'?"

"I mean, I usually opt for Shad for demented nicknames. One of the worst fish, but a fish all the same and those are dope. Sad Shad wouldn't be too far off. That season of depression yo." She shoved her phone back in her pocket and flashed a double peace sign.

Oliver nodded. "Understandable. Sad Shad is a great name, though." He edited his contacts.

At this point, Elias was sleeping with his hands over his face, and a churro in his mouth.

"So, want me to wake that guy up, or will you give him my number?"

"No and probably," Sadie answered his questions. "In that order."

"Got it. In that case, any last matters to take care of?"

Sadie shook her head.

Elias then abruptly awoke. "Huh...? Where am I...?"

"In a taco restaurant on the planet Earth. You're welcome," Oliver said.

"Oh... Must've dozed off."

"By the way, I've sort of joined your clandestine club."

"Do you still want the gift card?"

"He doesn't understand rich people," Sadie said with a smirk.

"My parents are rich!"

"Nah I'll take the gift card. I never turn down free money."

Elias handed Oliver a 25 dollar Olive Garden giftcard.

"It's not free," Sadie reminded. "It's incentive."

"Ah yes, how could I forget? I'll take the non-free gift card. Thank you." Oliver stood up and pushed in his chair.

Elias stared at Oliver. "I like you. You're like a.... 7/10."

"Hey. A 7/10? That's like... a 3-star Yelp review."

"Middle of the road. But... you're kinda like my older brother."

"So your older brother is a 7/10. Good to know."

"No! He's a 10/10."

"Solid 6," Sadie interjected.

"Oliver or my brother?"

"It better not be me. I like to think I'm at least an 8," Oliver joked. "But also, if it's Elias's brother, well, that insult would probably not go well for you, Sadie."

"Hm. You are a 7 at best."

"Brutal. Is there a chance at raising my rating, or do I just accept my fate as being a lucky number?" Oliver inquired.

"If I grow fond of you. Maybe. Just maybe."

"I hear joining the Resistance is pretty sexy."

"Sadie! That was uncalled for!" Elias blushed and hid his face in his hands.

Oliver laughed. "Also good to know. And you're calling yourselves the Resistance?"

Sadie had been laughing too, but suddenly sobered and shook her head. "No. I just mean, like... in general." But she was blushing furiously. "Obviously."

"Mhm. Well, I'm pleased to meet you two members of the Resistance." Oliver flashed them a grin. "You have my number, and I'm sure you'll find me at this taco place again. Apparently there's a certain taco I need to order. But for now, unfortunately, I must be off to classes." He strolled out the door, turning at the last moment to wave goodbye flamboyantly.

"It's going pretty well!" Ellis said with a smile, following close behind. He gestured towards the right. "It'll be right in here."

The room was fairly spacious, especially for a therapy room. The walls were painted a light blue color that was fairly neutral and the sofa along the back wall was black with yellow accent pillows and a fuzzy white blanket draped over the back. There were two overstuffed black chairs across from the sofa, each with a yellow accent pillow on them as well.

Ellis generally preferred his client took the sofa and he took one of the chairs, but he let them pick where they were most comfortable.

"That's good." Vincent smiled even though it probably wasn't visible as Ellis was behind him, and followed Ellis' directions. He took one of the chairs as he preferred to not sit by himself on an entire sofa.

Ellis smoothly swept up a notebook on the table next to one of the seats and settled down on the couch. "And how about you? How are you doing today?"

"Pretty good! I went to a party and talked to some people." He hummed, sitting back in his chair and shifting a little bit to get more comfortable.

Maho sat in her chair, trying to recall that guy's name. What was it she had called him? Ugh, she needed some more coffee. She took a sip, and randomly searched up key letters she remembered. Which was that his name standed for OW. Wait- there- Ollie- Oliver! Right! Oliver uh, Windermere! Right! She shook her head, scolding herself for not trying to sleep. But she wasn't tired enough, and she had other things she'd need to do later. She searched him up for a good hour. Law student. Yeah, okay. Somewhat good grades, his father- she vaguely recalled watching something about him. 6'2'', made sense. He was taller than her. by about 8-10 inch difference? Email, address, phone number. Perfect. She could just show up on his doorstep. But that'd be a bit weird. Then again.... no, she'd stick to just texting him. So she took one of her phones and entered his number in her contacts.

Yo. You'll never guess who it is

The three dots soon appeared. Santa Claus. am i right or am i right?

Neither. I'm not that old. Nice try though. You're pretty close.

oh my bad, Rudolph

I wish.

XD okay seriously, who are you?

Tacos should give you a very obvious hint lol

Sad Shad
wait no
this is an unknown number
oh! you weren't kidding when you said you had a knack for finding people, Maho

Sad Shad? Who?
I never kid about my skills Ollie

*groan*
hey, you wanna get tacos?

She grinned at this.

At midnight? I don't see why not.

excellent. clearly tacos taste best at midnight. i'll be there in 15 min

Ofc, that is an excellent opinion, I'm glad your sense of taste is improving. I'll be there in about the same amount of time, maybe later.

is that approval from the food gourmet Maho i sense? woah
see ya

No, I'm just noting it.

humph ok

She put down the phone and packed her things. She didn't have much to grab except her vest and purse, and she was off. She arrived at the taco place earlier than she had said of course. She sat down on a bench and watched people walking around. It gave her time to think, contemplate, and piece things together.

Oliver announced his arrival with a dramatic twirl in place in front of the bench. "Hello there, fellow midnight taco eater. I'll be trying the number eight this time, by the way."

She couldn't help but to smile at his dramatic greeting. "Good. I'd never eat tacos with someone who's going to order another basic cheese after I give them better suggestions."

"Good, because I am absolutely not a person like that." Oliver laughed, then pushed open the door to the 24-hour taco place.

"I'd hope not. I already argued with someone about tomatoes being fruit. Which they are, I mean they have all the qualifications." She snorted, going in after him.

"Obviously. Okay. Wait." Oliver turned to face Maho with a serious expression on his face as they stood at the end of the short line (apparently other people agreed tacos were best at midnight). "I need to know your answer to this very important question. Are burgers pizzas? They have stuff on top of a circular piece of bread."

Maho stared at him. Like the stare of You-have-got-to-be-kidding-me-that-is-such-a-stupid-question.

"Well?" Oliver prompted.

"No. Just no." She started to shake her head, grimacing. "There is a very large difference between the two."

Oliver ordered the number eight taco, then continued the debate. "Really? I see no difference. Burgers have a bottom bun, pizzas have a crust on the bottom. Both have tomatoes-- which are obviously fruits. Both have cheese. Both can have meat and other vegetables. Clearly they are the same!"

Maho ordered fourteen, as that one had spice. "Tomato sauce goes onto a pizza, not a hamburger. If you are to put a tomato slice on a pizza, it is cooked, not raw. Cheese on a cheese burger is sliced. Cheese on a pizza is anything but sliced. Cheeseburgers are just beef, while you can use pretty much any kind of meat on a pizza. As for vegetables, basil does not go onto a hamburger. A hamburger uses a different kind of dough, and a hamburger needs two pieces of bread. Also pizzas are larger and flatter than a cheeseburger."

Oliver nodded slowly. "Okay, first of all, thanks for that five-paragraph essay." He grinned. "Second, are you saying that a hamburger can't have tomato sauce? Or a pizza can't have raw tomato? Third, cheese on a pizza is shredded cheese, which is basically cheese that's been sliced many times. Fourth, you can use any meat in a burger! Fifth, you can also put basil on a hamburger. Sixth, pizza crust and burger buns are both carbs and bready items. Seventh, size doesn't matter, as shown by the variety of pizza sizes one can order and the range in cheeseburger sizes from sliders to enormous burgers." He counted on his fingers. "Yep, I think those were all your points."

"Tomato sauce and hamburgers do not go. Also, there is a difference between hamburgers and cheeseburgers. There's no cheese on a hamburger, otherwise it would be a cheeseburger. Raw tomatoes can go onto a pizza, but cooked ones have better flavor and anyone who knows food would know that. The process of shredding is different than slicing and not all cheeses that go onto a pizza are shredded, like feta cheese. Hamburgers are 99.99% of the time are always beef, unless you eat vegan ones, which I don't see the point of. I've never met or heard of a person putting basil on a hamburger, that's just gross. The dough is still different, and cheeseburger sized pizzas are for wimps. And a burger never gets as big as a pizza can." She countered what he said, insistent.

"I detected like four different insults there." Oliver tapped his foot for a moment, then said, "Alright, I could counter each point individually, or I could just say this: can't burgers dream? Can't they hope for a better life as pizzas? Who is one human to say burgers have absolutely no hope of being pizzas?"

"You've never debated have you? That's like saying you would not be alive if they hadn't dropped the atomic bomb on Japan. There is no proof there to create a solid arguement." She looked at him like he was a complete idiot. "Also, hamburgers are abiotic. If you're a human and you wanted to be a fox, you can dream of being one. But you will never be one just as much as you cannot be anyone else."

Oliver mimed crumpling to the floor, a hand held to his forehead miserably. "You just ruined my dreams of being a fox. How could you." Then he looked up and said, "Also, I doubt a professional debater would call cheeseburger-sized-pizza-eaters wimps. So hah."

"That's because I'm not a professional debater and I'm not ashamed of so." She retorted, still not being able to help but smile. Man, if she was arguing with a drill sergeant like this, she'd have to do push ups for the rest of the day. Maybe the week.

"Oh? Neither am I. Neither am I really a fan of being crumpled on the floor, so." He stood up and brushed himself off. "Anyways, my belief still stands. Burgers can be pizzas if they want." He tried to look serious, but his eyes twinkled with humor.

"Then don't add crumpling to the ground as part of your dramatic act. My opinion still stands as well. After all, my opinion is mine and yours is yours." She grabbed their tacos and set them on an empty table. Which there were a lot.

"Ouch. But somehow I end up getting insulted whenever I see you, and I need to express my agony!" Oliver laughed and dug into his taco. "Mmmm. Tacos are great though."

"Then try not to be such an obvious idiot." She snorted. She bit into her taco.

"See? You're doing it again. I'm just ignoring it because I want to eat."

"If you were ignoring it you wouldn't be pointing it out. Again, obvious idiot."

Oliver said nothing and exaggerated his chewing.

She rolled her eyes, and set her taco down. "Why did I decide to come here and meet you in person again?"

Oliver swallowed his bite. "Because tacos. Duh. Who's the obvious idiot now?"

"Yeah, okay. Who's that person you were mentioning? Sad Shad?" She ignored him and bit into her taco.

Oliver chewed for a moment, looking thoughtful. "Well, how do you feel about Conurbation?"

She went slightly stiff, as she didn't talk much of her opinion of the city. "It could be better."

"Mhm. Now, that finding people thing. How or why do you do it?" He watched Maho carefully.

"I work as a Shadow in the Air Force. It's in the job description to find things." She replied casually, taking a bite of her taco. "Sometimes I use my skills for personal matters like finding friends who don't give you their phone number."

"Ah yes, quite a handy skill. Who could have ever forgotten to give you their phone number?" Oliver smiled, then said, "How do you feel about meeting some... associates? Fair warning, they're a little strange, but they're good at heart. I think."

She stared at him for a second, chewing her food. She didn't like the ending part. "Exactly how long have you known these, associates?"

"About an hour." He said it with a straight face. "They have a whole whiteboard with plans and one of them sort of threatened me with a churro." Oliver cracked up, then settled down again and lowered his voice. "No, sorry, serious now. They want to make this place better, less unequal. And I think a lot of us agree that we need some change around here, eh? There's no point to this rivalry between the Hidebounds, Iconoclasts, and Guarded."

Maho's face remained unreadable. "I'll think about it. Tell me the next time you meet them and I might be there."

"Sounds good. Unfortunately, there might not be tacos next time. But they did give me an Olive Garden gift card, so there's that." Oliver showed off the gift card like it was a thousand dollar bill.

She nodded. "Pasta would be a nice change in food."

Oliver brightened. "I agree! Alfredo pasta is the best."

She hummed. "True. Shrimp pasta is also good."

He considered it, then nodded. "Pasta in general."

She nodded in agreement. "At least you know your pasta better than your tacos, hamburgers, and pizza. I was about to think you were a lost cause."

Oliver groaned. "You're never going stop bringing the tacos up, huh. I'm very glad to hear I'm not a lost cause, though."

She smiled, a twinkle in her eyes. "Never. I'll make sure it haunts you to the end."

"Oh dear. You're going to carve a taco into my headstone, aren't you? 'Here lies Oliver, who had zero taste in tacos.'"

She laughed. "That is exactly what I planned on doing. I'd also make sure to put a basic cheese taco in your casket with you. And leave one at your grave every Saturday."

"Ha! Well, thanks for the food, I guess. I should write this on your headstone: 'Here lies Maho, who failed to realize that burgers can be pizzas. Never stop dreaming.' And I'll put a burger with a name tag that says 'Pizza' on your grave each Saturday."

She smiled amusedly. "At least you'd be visiting my grave."

"Mhm. I could argue with you that pancakes are also pizzas and you'd never argue back. Though hopefully neither of us dies young."

She shrugged. "There's no promise for tomorrow. But you better remain in contact with me while we're both alive. I mean talking everyday. Arguing about food is only initiation."

"Wow, that's a pretty big promise. Having a Duolingo streak is hard enough." Oliver tapped a finger on his chin. "I might agree to it if there's a chance that someday you'll admit circular foods like, hmm, burgers can be pizzas."

"That's not happening anytime soon, and as far as my eyes can see. I've got 20/20 vision too."

"Well, guess you'll have to start the conversations then. Be like Duo, but less violent."

"That would be boring."

"Hey, I'm not going to promote violence here. However, I mayyy start conversations if I see signs of even just a change in heart in you, in terms of allowing food to dream."

"The day that happens you'll know something is wrong with me."

Oliver sighed. "How stubborn. I'll keep that in mind. Anyways, look forward to pasta, perhaps in a few days!"

She nodded. "Sounds good to me. Maybe they'll be just as crazy as me and we can spend the entire conversation using quips against you."

"Oh, I have a feeling we're all crazy. But no ganging up on me!"

"No promises Ollie."

"Hey. You want me to talk to you or not? I swear, I won't let you use the gift card if you overuse that nickname."

"You'll grow into it." She smirked.

"Hmmm." Oliver looked unconvinced. "I need silly nicknames for all of you guys. Just you wait."

"Make a bad one for me and I'll make yours worse."

"Okay I'll make a good bad nickname then."

She didn't argue with that. Just nodded.

"Then fare thee well! I have indeed enjoyed the midnight tacos." Oliver stood up to leave.

"Not someone who speak shakespearan." She grumbled quietly, standing up as well to leave.

"Fa la la la laaaa! I heard nothing! Absolutely not another insult! And now, I take my leave." Oliver waved grandly at the door, then disappeared into the night.

Maho muttered another insult about shakespearan speakers before also leaving. She put her hood up and looked at her phone as she walked. Tomorrow, she'd be meeting an informant.

Maho was walking around at the party, her headphones covering her ears. She would occasionally move one off of an ear when talking to someone so she could hear them. She looked around the crowd for a specific person of interest who agreed to meet her here where it was busy and not many people walked around. She wasn't much of a party fan, but she did agree that the noise could drown out their conversation from eavesdroppers. It was funny, that she could walk around and not a single person would think Hey! There's Soundblaster the broadcaster!. The upsides of people not being able to tell the difference from a voice changer and an actual voice, and even if they did know they would never be able to unscramble the voice. Distracted by thinking, she bumped into someone for the second time in a week.

-----------------------------------------


Sometimes he hated his nosiness, the little knack he had for worming his ways into information. He had to leave his safe, cozy apartment and the half-eaten platter of sushi now tucked away in his fridge, just for the chance, the smallest possibility that the infamous Soundblast was actually at this party.

Gosh, it sounded even worse put into thoughts. A party. Eck.

A drone whirred silently above Ristyn's head, green light blinking steadily at him. He took that as encouragement (ha, encouragement from an inanimate object, just how desperate was he getting?) that this was going to go well, it was going to go great and absolutely nothing bad would happen.

Those were the thoughts he repeated to himself as he made his way into the party, tinny sounding music blasting out at him from booming speakers, earplugs doing little to stop the noise. Ristyn did his best to ignore it, setting a drone on a nearby table as he passed and sliding it behind a few trays of food and drinks so that it would pick up the audio from all the people eating. He'd sort through it later tonight for relevant pieces of information.

He was in the process of putting down another drone, this time in a lamp hood, when somebody hit him from behind and sent it flying out of his hands and shattering onto the ground. He stared down at it mournfully, propellers whirring briefly before its motor finally dropped out. Ristyn instead turned to face the person who hit him, mouth open with a scathing retort for breaking one of his drones-

"I'm sorry." was all that came out, tone placid and infuriatingly calm, even as his breathing grew labored, lungs aching.

"Oh I am so sorry!" She took her headphones off of her head and left them around her neck. She gave him a nervous smile as she shifted from one foot to the other. "I've been bumping into quite a few people today."

Ristyn blinked slowly, shuffling the shattered remains of his drone into his pocket, hands following suit. He felt acutely overdressed, even if it was more casual clothing.

"No, no, you're fine. It's my fault, really, for being in the way." The corners of his mouth curved up into an apologetic smile.

"Just accept the apology. I was the one moving." Her smile became less socially awkward. She did however, notice him sweeping something into his pocket, and tried to peer at it. "What was that anyways? I didn't break anything important did I? If it has to do with piecing something together or something with mechanical parts I might be able to fix it."

"Fine, I...accept your apology." His smile, if possible, grew even more socially awkward as her's grew more confident. "Oh that? It's just my watch, it's not broken or anything, it was simply uncomfortable." The lie flowed off his tongue like an elephant stampeding through an indoor market, heavy and hesitant.

She was clearly satisfied that he "accepted" her apology. She did not however, believe his lie. As part of her work she could pick through the best of lies. "No offense but that is the worst lie I have ever heard, and I've heard some pretty ridiculous ones."

He faltered, gaze narrowing with renewed interest at her. She was...intriguing. It had been a perfectly normal lie (darn his awful social adeptness for betraying him like this.)

"Am I really that obvious? Surely it was believable, at least a little."

"There's a difference in your tone, as well as how you move." She shook her head with an amused look. There were other factors, but she wasn't going to help someone lie now. That would make her job much harder than it already was.

"Interesting, I wasn't aware of how obvious it was. Is this better?" He paused, tendons in his forearms tensing before relaxing as someone passed a little too close for comfort. He smiled at the girl in front of him before continuing.

"It's just my watch." His words were smoother than last time, a little bit more confident.

"Somewhat. Really, what was it?" She put her hands on her hips. It was in her nature and her job to be persistent. Ohhhh no sir, she was not going to stop now. "Just because you did better at lying doesn't mean I'm letting you off the hook about it and if I have to look through your pocket myself I will."

Ristyn made an amused noise in the back of his throat, taking a swift step out of her reach. "You're going to reach into my pocket and grab my watch?" He even sounded amused, hands twitching from where they rested languidly at his side. "Sounds like assault."

"It's not a watch and I know that. No one would be so protective of something unless they're..." She paused, leaping the same distance he stepped. Her eyes narrowed. "Up to something."

Those last words were separated like staccatos in a ritardando. Or if you don't speak music, like Snape when he talked to the hero trio. She checked her own watch. Of course she was early, which meant she had time for this. Her paranoia started poking at her. She considered walking off, and once her informant arrived they'd go somewhere else. What if this guy knew, somehow heard of her being here?

Ristyn shrugged gracefully, taking a step backwards yet again. "Up to something? Me? Never!" He went for a lighthearted tone but his voice betrayed him again.

She took another two steps forward, the downside of being shorter. "Liar. Look, I ain't gonna report you to authorities, it ain't my job." She spoke casually, even teasingly when she called him a liar.

He laughed awkwardly. "How do I know you're not the authorities?" He cocked his head to the side, eye brow arching neatly. She was too nosy. It was weird. Maybe it was just his paranoia rearing its ugly head, but his plan were beginning to sweat and dread made his heart pound.

"And how do I know you aren't an undercover cop?" She responded, throwing the heat back towards him. "Not to mention your clothes are all very formal."

"You don't." Ristyn straightened out, back popping in a series of satisfying cracks. He looked down at his outfit with a frown. "They're not that bad. This is the most casual stuff that I own?" The end of his sentence pitched upwards, as if in question.

"You have got to be kidding me. That's the most casual you wear?" She gaped. "Also, if you are a cop you must be one that is always doing paperwork at a desk with a spine that can pop like that."

"Yeah?" He gasped in mock offense. "I'll have you know desk work is a very important role in any productive establishment." The corners of his mouth quirked down in pout.

"So you are a cop." Her mouth twitched, emotion unknown to people watching. "I'd find it more fun to actually go out and chase the criminals."

"I wish, that'd be more exciting than being an underpaid programmer." He paused, about to continue before the sharp pang in his lungs reminded him to breathe. "Besides, without desk jobs, the police force probably would be even worse off than it already is."

"Programmer? That would make sense actually." She hummed.

"What- why would that make sense?" He stared at her.

"Well, you don't seem like a very social person. Plus how your spine pops. I know from experience that it's caused by sitting for many hours a day, especially with bad posture."

"The fact you've already analyzed me in the ten minutes we've talked is insane. The fact you're pretty much right is even scarier."

"I see you're pretty good at keeping track of time, as well as noting my observational skills." She grinned. Internally, she was worrying she wasn't being careful enough.

"I was seeing how long it would take before you realize somebody has been staring at you." He gestured vaguely over her shoulder towards the food table, gaze now scrutinizing. "Looks pretty urgent if you ask me."

She did mental calculations, trying to not look concerned. It shouldn't be another 20 minutes until her informant arrived. "I don't have the faintest idea why someone would be doing so. I'm waiting on a friend, but they wouldn't stare from a distance." She looked over her shoulder anyways.

"Well, good thing there wasn't anybody there." He smiled and it was a sharp, shrewd thing. He tapped his fingers around a glass of punch he'd gotten from who knows where, giving her a look that clearly said she wasn't the only one who could read people and then held out a watch from his pocket. "For your information, it was a watch." It'd taken quite a lot of finagling to wiggle it off the wrist of someone who passed to close, but he did get it.


"Then why say there's someone there?" She turned her attention back to him, eyes narrowing. She looked to his pocket which the supposed watch at came from.


"Wanted to see your reaction. Your antsy, nosy, and clearly a people watcher. Somethings odd about you and I do intend to find out."

"Well I myself am a unique person, not odd. There's a difference, just as obvious as the fact a burger is not a pizza." She replied, thinking back to her previous conversation with a somewhat-stranger.

He choked on his drink. "Who said burgers are pizza? They sound like they were traumatized at a young age to have that mentalit." Ristyn squinted, dark eyes suspicious. "It wasnt this friend of yours was it? I may not like people but I will throw hands."

She laughed. "No, it's not the one I'm meeting today. In full honesty I've only met that person twice."

"Good, good." The words registered. "Damn, already in political debates on only the second meeting. I guess that says a lot about our second meeting."

"I don't know, are we meeting again?" She raised an eyebrow.

"I don't know Ms. Nosy, are we?" He matched her expression with a taint of amusemen.

She gave him a small smirk. "Well it seems you've already decided that Mr. Horrible Liar. Which when thinking about it you haven't even told me your name."

"Mm, how does not-burger pizza sound?" He smiled at the ridiculous nickname, losing the mostly fake smugness."The nam's Ristyn, but I'm sure you would have figured that out eventually anyways. You are...?"

"Actually, no I don't think I would have. That's an interesting name; I've never met anyone named Ristyn, until now of course." She smiled. "I'm Maho."

"Maho? Seems fitting. My parents The thought I was going to be a girl and decided not to change the name when they found out otherwise." He put the watch away, realizing he was still holding it. "Well, I do actually think your friend is here, whoever that may be and I need to get home to finish my food and feed the cats. If you really, really need a way to contact me, my public number is listed online under Ristyn Merrwood."

"Yes, it is quite fitting. I will be sure to find you when I get the spare time, although it might be just so I can meet your cats."

"Using me for my cats, how rude." He rolled his eyes and then smiled to let her know it was simply joking before turning around with a wave over his shoulder and disappearing into a crowd with tense shoulders and uneasy posture.

She waved back, and headed off in her own direction, to go to the location she was supposed to be waiting at.

Sadie took a deep breath as she put her car into park outside the local Olive Garden. This was ridiculous. Mr. Wealthy-Beyond-Belief wanting to use a half-used gift card to Olive Garden. Oh well. She could go for some pasta and was excited to meet this potential new recruit... and try to get an answer out of Ollie Ow whether he was going to join them or not.

She got out of her car and locked the doors then headed inside, passing a woman leaning on a wall outside, shooting off the text: where r u?

The three dots quickly appeared. omw! just trying to escape this party

tsk tsk mr popular

hey at least i have the good sense to say pasta over parties

true dat. is new girl with you or does she have a table already?

not with me. proooobably is already there? her pickiness with food makes me think she's prolly also picky with time

i feel like i should pretend i don't have her number yet so you wanna text her

you have her number already :skull:
sure i'll text

Sadie smirked at that and sat down on a bench inside the door to wait.

A few minutes later, Oliver replied, she said yep. just yep.
A second later he said, sry that was unhelpful. but i'm like two minutes away, so just hang on

ok ill just wait ig im inside

Oliver reacted with a thumbs-up.

ew.

what?

what do u mean what? r u like 80 or something? big boomer vibes olow

>:( i swear i'm at least 90. respect my age, youngun

no < 3

The door swung open and Oliver waltzed in, pocketing his phone. He spotted Sadie almost immediately and doffed an imaginary hat. Then he swiveled towards the door again and did jazz hands at a woman who was walking in. "The legendary Maho I told you about! A pretty good person, despite her refusal to support burger rights."

Maho's cheeks turned slightly pink.

Sadie blinked at him, having no idea what that meant but entirely unwilling to admit that. She then turned her gaze on Maho and offered a hand, standing up. "Nice to meet you. I'm Sadie."

Oliver stage whispered, "Sad Shad."

"I can't quite say whether it's nice to meet you or not yet, but I suppose we'll find out." She smiled, and shook Sadie "Sad Shad's" hand.

"I mean, I feel like that was a pretty flawless meeting," Sadie joked with a smirk. "I'll leave it to you to decide if it's nice to know me or not, but I feel like I get an A+ for the meeting part of it, you know?"

"It might help if you agree that burgers cannot be pizzas." She smirked.

"No. Absolutely not. Clearly burgers can be pizzas. We don't need to get into this again." Oliver's glance darted around the restaurant as if looking for something to change the topic.

"Those are two entirely separate categories Ollie!"

"Amazing Alfredos!" Oliver bounded over to the menu and gasped. "Alfredo, alfredo, alfredo! Oh my god. This is my new favorite restaurant." He held up the menu and pointed at a list of items: chicken alfredo, shrimp alfredo, fettuccine alfredo, chicken tortelloni alfredo, and seafood alfredo.

Maho groaned. Sadie rolled her eyes and went up to the host stand. "Could we get a table for three please?"

The waiter flicked his eyes towards Oliver, clearly trying not to smirk, then looked back at Sadie. "Of course, ma'am. Right this way!"

He took three menus from beneath the counter and started back into the restaurant. Oliver followed the waiter, hugging the menu he'd first taken and flashing a grin back at the other two. Sadie rolled her eyes again. "You're a child."

"I thought I was a boomer. Guess I can age-shift." Oliver laughed.

"He covers both ends of the spectrum simultaneously."

"Nah, I am the spectrum, thanks." Oliver gave a dramatic bow.

The waiter motioned them towards a table in the corner.

Sadie plopped down immediately, claiming the chair that faced the door. An old paranoia she'd picked up years ago and carried with her even now. Maho was in the seat that was closest to the other door that would normally not be used. Oliver shrugged and slid into the seat that was left.

He finally set down the menu he'd been hugging and rubbed his hands. "So many choices..."

"Have you never been here before?" Sadie asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Surprisingly, I haven't! Apparently my friends don't have good taste in restaurants. Olive Garden, my love, why didn't I discover you sooner?"

"Hey, what about the taco shop?" Maho made a mock insulted expression.

"That's my new ex," Oliver said with a straight face. "Actually nah, that can be my best friend."

That earned him an eyebrow raise from Maho. Oliver stuck out his tongue and returned to perusing the menu.

Maho looked to Sadie. "He's insufferable."

Sadie shrugged. "Seems like he needs a moment. How about you tell me about you in the mean time?"

Maho shrugged. "There's not much to me. I work in the air force as a shadow."

"How do you like it?"

"It's alright. Boring at times-"

A loud cawing noise started to rumble outside the Oliver Garden. The doors swung open to reveal Elias running in, birds mercilessly pecking at him. "Hi guys!"

"... What's with the birds?" Sadie asked, not making any move to get up or help in any way.

Maho just stared at Elias with the What-the-hell-have-I-gotten-myself-into look.

"I forgot to close the cabinet with all of the birdseed... then the bag fell on me, and I was in such a rush I forgot to brush it off and then the birds came."

"You're a mess."

"Says the one who is built like a shrimp!"

"How about you take your little bird friends outside, brush off, then try it again?"

Elias begrudgingly stood up, walked out of the building, did the dog-shake-water-off shake, and came back in. While he was outside Sadie turned her attention back to Maho. "I'm sorry about him. He's... he means well."

Maho just gave her an amused look.

Miraculousy his suit was in perfect condition even after the birds. (PlotSuitArmor tm) "Hi guys!"

"Hello Elias," Sadie said flatly. "Meet Maho."

"Hi Mario! Sadie, my point still stands. You are built like a shrimp." Elias quipped, picking the birdseed out from under his fingernails idly.

Maho now looked insulted, and tilted her head slightly with her arms crossed. "Do I really look like a Mario?"

"If you wore red, yeah probably!"

Oliver looked up. "Oh hey Elias! When did you get here? Sorry, I was too busy being in love with all the alfredo pasta options here." He grinned.

"That makes sense."

Oliver looked between Maho and Elias. "Well, judging by Maho's insulted look, I guess you two have met. We can skip the introductions then!" He looked back down at the menu. "I think I've finally settled on seafood pasta."

Elias noticed the lack of a chair for him and

Narrator: then herb had internet issues and couldn't finish that thought. The other three chaos goblins authoring this post got bored and wrapped it up with the following conclusion. See the following post for what really happened.

"Oh yeah? What sort of party?" Ellis asked, offering a small smile as he looked over at his client. Seemed an odd activity for the middle of the day. What sort of people had parties early enough they happened before a therapist's office closed?