Smile as bright as the fairy lights
Mar 7, 2019 16:18:05 GMT -8
Post by candle on Mar 7, 2019 16:18:05 GMT -8
{Spring 019 Event}
"The town has transformed overnight. Everywhere you look, there are lights decorating everything! Does your character partake in the parade of lights, or do they go about their business despite the increased traffic?"
"The town has transformed overnight. Everywhere you look, there are lights decorating everything! Does your character partake in the parade of lights, or do they go about their business despite the increased traffic?"
“Yes. That entire row, please. I have a big family.” Anthony smiles and points to the front line of chocolate eggs. They are covered in cheap foil with cheap patterns, but with all the fairy lights flickering on and off, each tiny condiment helps to reflect a kaleidoscope of colours onto the young man’s face.
Renovamen is fast approaching, and a travelling circus has made use of the holiday by setting up a suspiciously speedy fairground- the type that can creep through otherwise bustling city streets with the same rapidity of an evening chill in early Springtime.
Everyone has made an effort to get out- wrapping up with mitts and scarves and children or lovers- hoping for a fun, if not-too-expensive night. The carousel, dodgems, wave swinger and even a big top has been set up a few streets down from Anthony’s location. He hears the cumulative shrieks of delight and watches from the corner of his eye day-goers filtering out of the area, hands sticky with cotton candy and faces covered in garish paint.
He, however, is in the market section of the fairground, where the energy is more subdued and noticeably more tired. People are selling thematically appropriate trinkets: flower bouquets, egg hats, torchic plushes and, of course, candies. Rehashed delimas lights blink lazily at their use so early in the year, barely illuminating the evening, and no one has the energy to barter. No one except Anthony.
“All of them? That’s uh… ten, twelve, sixteen…. Sixteen threes are fourty… fourty five dians.” The stall holder scratches his head, unsatisfied already with his counting.
“Oh, come on, are you sure~?” Anthony drawls out the “oor” part of the sure, hands behind his back and eyes glossing over the potential goodies. “It’s nearly the end of the day, I’m not sure anyone else is going to buy them. And, and, and! Nearly every other seller here has already put sales on. I’m sure I could find someone with similar stuff willing to pay me a fairer price.”
“Yeah, but there’s always tomorrow? Like, the fair runs all week…”
“An excellent point, and one that I cannot quite rebuttal. That said, have you considered the fact that you are selling multiple types of chocolate eggs? And that removing one solid row of these will not affect how people perceive your products, because they won’t know what they’re missing, while if you don’t sell them to me you’ll likely have only sold one or two by the end of the week and will have therefore wasted your money?” Anthony says this clearly and confidently in one breath. He smiles amiably through it, completely oblivious of the inanity of his suggestions, while the underconfident seller’s face shifts from befuddlement to irritability.
“Alright, bugger off. Don’t need no smart alecs telling me what I know and don’t know. “One or two,” the cheek.”
“You know what would make me think you a smart alec? Emphasis mostly on the smart part? If you sold me those eggs for thirty dians.” An unfazed Anthony shoots the seller with some dorky finger guns for emphasis. They take a moment to process this action and then sigh, rolling their eyes in exasperation.
“Thirty-five, as long as you don’t come back.”
“Thirty-three?”
“Done.”
“Pleasure doing business with you.”
Anthony pegs a readily-prepared cotton bag to the side of the stall. He then raises a finger at the owner, who in turn perks a brow in weary bemusement, before dramatically sweeping his arm across the table, causing the sixteen chocolate eggs to tumble flawlessly into their new cloth home in one fell swoop.
Satisfied, the tall, dapper dressed purchaser picks up the bag and makes an exit- only to be reminded of something.
“Hey. The thirty-three dians?”
Anthony’s act stutters to a hault, and he turns back to the seller with a sheepish, apologetic grin.
“Oh, yeah, that’s right.” He leafs through the dians and produces the exact amount, before attempting a jolly little good night and slinking into the crowd.
{all the spoils}
british english spelling
wc: 672
cumulative wc: 672
edit log: I wrote the word count wrong well done candle
british english spelling
wc: 672
cumulative wc: 672
edit log: I wrote the word count wrong well done candle
