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Title: Carnival Interlude

Setting: Somewhere along the parade rout, during Mardi Gras

Log Cast:
Catherine
Trace

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Somewhere in the middle of the crowd, a fairly small girl tries to make her way through all the Mardi Gras party-goers. Not that Cathy has a particular direction to go in, but at least she wants out from the spot where everyone is packed like sardines. When she finally finds a lull in the crowd, a little away from the main street, she lets out a sigh, and glances over her shoulder, to inspect the wings for damage. Reaching back, she pushes out the bend in the frame of her left wing, and the wrinkles disappear again. It seems they made it through remarkably undamaged. She looks around to see just where exactly she is now.

Trace has found refuge from the flow of the crowds by finding the perch of a public mailbox to sit upon. The US Postal Service probably wouldn't be too pleased with him, his scrawny legs dangling before the entrance and blocking any attempts to put mail in the slot. But the boy doesn't seem to notice or mind. And lets be honest -- crowded and wild as the streets are, nobody here is going to attempt to push through all this ruckus just to send a letter. Trace is slurping some dubious substance from a clear plastic go-cup. It looks like some sort of slushie drink, only dubious because it's bright green.

Trace's mardi gras mask is not on his face at the moment, left to hang slack around his neck so that he can easily enjoy his drink. Many strands of colored beads hang about his slender neck.

Catherine needs just a moment, but then she spots the boy sitting on the mailbox. While it still doesn't tell her just where exactly she is, it has become a little less important. She walks up to the box, then gets a grin, and sneaks around, trying to get behind him. The only problem now is, with Trace sitting on the box, there's no way she can reach up high enough to even hold him at the waist, let alone cover his eyes. She looks around, finds nothing to stand upon, so the only option left is climbing the box. She manages to hoist herself up, setting one foot in the mailslot, and leaning over she stays in balance, now standing behind Trace, and suddenly her hands slip around his head, covering his eyes. She giggles as she leans over, mutters a whoops as she almost slips back, but having a hold on Trace helps her keep her footing, and finally whispers into his ear with a slightly altered voice, "Guess who?"

Trace had been intent on his drink, and ignoring the jeering calls of boys offering their beads to pretty passing ladies, so your stunt catches him by surprise indeed. He yelps softly, and it's probably also his little startled jump that nearly makes the two lose their precarious balance on the mailbox and tumble off. But once their steady, and you whisper, he giggles a little and murmurs, "I... I dunno." He tries to turn around and see for himself, squirming playfully. A glimpse through cupped fingers shows him a brief flash of pretty reddish hair, and he grins brighter and 'guesses', little cheater that he is, "Catherine!"

Catherine giggles as you try to turn around, and she slips her hand down to place them onto your shoulders, which helps her much more with her balance. She grins and says, "Hmm, you guessed right at once.. Now we'll just have to think up a prize for you.." She shifts her weight, and manages to find a better balance, and when she looks at Trace again, she adds, "I saw you sitting up here, so I thought I'd say hi.. How has it been so far? I haven't really seen much of the floats yet, since I couldn't get a front row place. But I think you'd have a terrific view here."

Trace's eyes widen a little as he checks out your costume, brows lifting, looking you over. He looks up and smiles brightly then, blurting, "Cathy! Yer green!" A laugh and he scoots over to the very edge to let you climb on up and join him, then finally gives your wings a careful study. "Wow... That's such a neat costume, Cathy. Really." He reaches out to touch the wings very carefully, as though afraid the contact will harm them. "It's really... I mean." A little blush. "You look really good," he finally gets out the bashful compliment.

Catherine shifts her weight again as you make some room for her on the mailbox, and she shifts around easily enough that you might guess she's practiced at climbing things. She settles down, and giggles when you touch the wing. She nods quickly and says with a rather big grin, "Yeah, I thought.. well, all the talk about fairies and pixies and sprites.. It was Alisynde's idea about the wings and all, she lend them to me. But I made the dress. You really like it? Thanks.." She reaches down, and tugs the skirt part back in place again.

"Yeah..." Trace murmurs, and nods a little again, still sheepish. "Yeah, I do think it looks really good. Wow. And y'made the dress? That's too cool. He reaches up to touch the fabric, just briefly, at the shoulder. Then his hand is drawn back, used to hold onto the edge of the mailbox. The other hand's still got that weird green drink, icy and cool, and he holds it out to you now in offering. "Y'want? They're usually alcoholic, but I got mine virgin. It's better that way, anyway. Tastes like kiwis and strawberries and, I dunno, good stuff." The cup of unidentified Good Stuff is passed over, and he's back to admiring your dress. "S'really cool. Yer lucky you can make stuff. I could never." He taps at the mask."Made this. But it weren't nothin'. Jest paper mache and stuff." The mask is blue, a face that tries to look evil, with slitted eyes and gold glitter around the holes, and fangs that hang down past where most of the mask stops above the mouth. But really it just looks cute on him, when he puts it on, with the blue braids flopping out from beneath it.

Catherine shakes her head quickly as she says, "I didn't really make it all myself. I just.. Well, I drew like a picture of what I wanted it to be like, and Jenny gave me all these paterns of dresses and told me to pick one out and make it so it would make this dress. So I kinda drew up the patern, and I bought and cut the fabric, but Jenny did the sowing. I tried it, but it's like, I take a minute per inch, and she had it all done in an evening." She accepts the offered cup, and without looking what exactly it is, tries a sip. She giggles as she lets go of the straw and says, "Ohh.. it's sweet.. But it tastes pretty good. She takes another sip, then hands the drink back. A slightly selfconcious look down at herself, then she looks up, and as you put on the mask, she giggles, and tilts her head. Admiring it, she says, "Well, I think it's really neat. It's.. well, a disguise, and it's still you, and it's both in one.. I like it.."

"That's still cool though, about your dress," Trace insists, swinging his legs a little where they dangle off the mailbox. "Yer like... a designer. Maybe you'd be real good at that, like fer a career, y'know? You could draw up dresses and people'd be walking around in yer design. It'd be cool." As you praise his mask he grins, taking it now and just holding it in his hands, running a finger along the glitter circling the 'evil' slanted eye-holes. "Yeah... Lil' blue wildman monster. Guess it's fitting." Some of the gold glitter comes off on his finger, and he reaches out and touches your nose with it playfully, getting a few sparkly specks on it. He grins impishly.

Catherine thinks about that for a moment, and she gets a big grin as she says, "You know, I never really thought of that, though I have seen like lots and lots of clothes, and I do draw.. well.. a little, once in a while.." She looks back up at you again, and says with a giggle, "Though I think you'd be a lot better at drawing designs. That is, if you'll stop drawing your fairies naked." As your finger touches her nosetip, she looks a little crosseyed, as if she could see what you just did, but by the grin on your face, she can already tell and giggles, "I guess a sprite needs pixy dust. Just be careful not to give me too much, or I could use it to cast a spell on you."

Trace grins. "Aw, you wouldn't cast no bad spells on me, I ain't scairt." He shakes his head a little, lips still curled with amusement. "Anyway, I wouldn't make no good designer. My thing's fantasy stuff, I guess, or drawin' people, or... I dunno. Whatever strikes me. And I don't see how naked fairies matters much, less it's fairy clothes you want me to be drawin'." He snickers. "Not much market fer them, last time I checked." He lifts the drink to his lips and sips at it thoughtfully. "It was good'a Jenny t'help you with yer costume. You and her sound kinda close. She like a ma to you r'somethin?"

Catherine has these twinkles in her eyes as she looks back at you when you say you aren't scared, but she doesn't say a thing. She leans back a little, but not too much, since she doesn't want to slip from the mailbox, but just enough to see a little more of you. She shakes her head, when she says, "Not much demand for fantasy outfits, though personally, I love them.. I just love fantasy novels, and some of the clothing in them is pretty neat, though some is pretty weird as well. And those royal dresses are all really clumbsy. I'd -really- hate dresses if I'd have to wear those things. But they look pretty I guess." Talking about Jenny makes her a bit thoughtful, and the best she can do is a shrug. "Well, she thinks she is, and she is nice and all.. but.. Well, she's been around even before my mom died and.. she just.. well, she's different.. Only one person ever came really close like that.."

"Yeah..?" Trace murmurs softly, but looks down shyly, because by the hesitance in your voice he's not sure if it's something you'd care to speak about. The first topic is more approachable, especially for a time like Mardi Gras, so he goes back to it delicately. "Yer right about them royal dresses though, with those, um. Y'know, those things?" Since that isn't too descriptive, he uses his hands to indicate his slender chest, patting the ribs gently. "The tight things that scrunch their chests all up real tight." A little giggle. "I mean, I kin' see how guys would see that as an advantage, but I dunno.. Ya'd think the girl could scarcely breath! And anyway, it mushes her curves up all weird, and I think I'd rather have a girl who could flounce around comfortable and run and dance and breath and all that, rather than just sit up straight and tiptoe about all prim and proper."

For a short little while Cathy's thoughts are in a completely different place, a long time ago. Then she blinks away what could be a tear, though she just rubs her eyes as if she got a speck of dirt in it, and shakes it off. She's smiling again when she looks at you once more, and she nods when she says, "They call it a corset, I think.. It's like.. they make it out of these stiff busks, they get from whales.. I'd really hate that.. it'd be almost like wearing a straitjacket. I rather be able to run around and climb trees." She giggles, mood now completely lifted again, as it's hard to stay down long during Mardi Gras, "I'd probably dress up like a boy and make sure nobody found out and I'd be able to do all the fun stuff, like going into the woods and making adventurous trips through the countries, meeting magical creatures.. Now that would be neat."

Yeah, Trace can get into this fantasy. He giggles and nods, agreeing, "Yeah.. You could be my sworn maiden, but I'd all not be into that corset stuff, so you could wear boy clothes in secret. I'd tell people ya were my fellow adventurer and we'd go hunt treasure and solve dragon riddles and stuff, and if anybody found out ya secret, I'd duel 'em and defend ya honor." Then he looks over, wondering if he's being sexist there, and clarifies, "Or if ya wanted ya could defend ya own honor and duel him ya'self?" Another little laugh at that image -- Cathy in her boy clothes with her hair all tucked up under a feathered gentleman's hat, sword raised to some insolent youth who thought her unworthy.

Catherine gets those sparkly eyes again, as she nods enthousiastic, the adventures already coming to live in her imagination. "Yeah, and we could go monster hunting, because it's okay to kill monsters, because they are evil.." She shakes her head quickly as she says, "I couldn't let you get hurt just because of me, though I'd never want to do a duel that would like, kill somebody.." She looks thoughtful, then says with a smile, "Or we could become appretices to a magician, and do these great magic acts, and make lightningbolts strike down on the evil monsters as they besiege the castle.. And I'd love to ride a dragon, flying through the air, and we could both sit there together, I'm sure.. Or you could be the knight in shiny armour, and I'd be the magician.. What would you like best? Because you could be a lot more than just a knight or magician.. There's like.. loads of interesting things.."

"We could be both!" Trace grins. "Jason, and my friend Wendy, they know magic. They'd teach us. But y'know, we could be both. Duelin, it ain't so bad at all. Coz we'd duel *honerable*. S'different. Y'don't kill em. Ya clash swords a lot, and when you win you hold the sword point up to their neck and ya give 'em this sneer and go 'Drop yer sword!' Gotta make yer voice boom when ya say that," he explains knowingly. "Else if they don't, ya might have to kill 'em after all, but then it's like killing monsters coz they're evil if they don't drop their sword when they get bested like a gentleman should." He shrugs. "Anyway, if ya had magic, you could jest do a spell to stick 'em in place, and then it wouldn't even be a problem. Or like a sleep spell or something, and tie 'em up while they're out."

Catherine's eyes widen as she gasps softly, but then nods quickly and giggles at the manacing voice you make for the sword dropping thing. "Putting them under a spell would be best then, and they would never know what happened but that they 'd better stay well out of our way, and not to do bad things ever again. Or we'd come visiting them again, but then we'd really need to have a pet dragon. Hmm.. well, not a pet dragon as in keeping him dumb, but a big golden one that would like to help humans and other humanoids that are good. And he could help with researching things, because dragons have even better memories than elephants, and they can talk, which is also a big advantage if you try to communicate." She giggles softly, "And I'd be able to put a spell on you, but it would only be a nice one. Like.. I could really charm you, or something.. Or for pulling a prank.. Pranks are good."

"No, pranks on your fellow adventurer are NOT good," Trace snorts, folding his arms defensively, though a little carefully so he doesn't spill his drink as he does it. His mock-offense can't keep his grin held in for long though, and he cheerily informs her, "If you play pranks on yer fellow adventurer, he's gotta respond in kind, and he'd prolly be devious and do one that'd... I dunno, stick yer wings together. Or give you pink spots all over, which would look pretty silly if ya was still green. You'd be a big watermelon." He pokes his tongue out, and then giggles.

"Ha," Trace grins cheekily, "my prank'd be better. I could always shave my beard off, but you'd be stuck with spots!" He giggles some more, because even so, that image of him with a big ole grampy beard hanging down IS kind of funny. "Look, check it out though! I seriously am getting some fuzz, look." He takes your hand and rubs it on his chin, and indeed, there's just a little bit of stubble there. It will surely be a hassle in a few months, especially being a street rat and not having any readily available shaving supplies, but for now he seems quite proud of the scratchiness that has cropped up there. He smiles and releases your hand, deciding, "And you couldn't MAKE me wear no clothes if I turned fairy. No oppressin' my people! The fairies are free to be naked!"

Catherine giggles as she leans in a little closer, when you put her hand to your face, and she brushes lightly with her fingers along your chin, though she has to look close to see it. When you let go of her hand, she doesn't pull it back just yet, but instead traces a finger around your lips, brushing over what might one day become a mustache. She giggles, though a lot more softly as she watches her finger move to your cheek, when she says, "Well, I guess if you did go naked, you'd always have your beard to cover your modesty.. Though it's look pretty weird, a fairy wearing just a beard.. And I'd still want to be clothed.."

"But I don't want a beard," Trace clarifies, grinning. See, the coolness of this stubble is not the fact because he wants to be all hairy. It's gonna get shaved. The boy is sure he'd look perfectly ridiculous with a beard, and he's probably right. It's just the fact that it's there! He's a *man* now, see? All grown. Stubble and everything. Sure, it's still barely there, and his hair -- a natural p ale reddish-blonde, not half so vibrant as yours, showing dully at the roots and in his brows and pale lashes. With such a color, it will probably stay rather invisible even if he lets it go for a week or so, only noticable by touch. "I guess yer right though. I mean.. if I thought about walkin' round naked all the time, like in those nudist colonies or something... ugh, that'd be embarrassing. But maybe if I were a fairy, I'd feel different." His eyes are thoughtful, apparantly giving this serious consideration. Would fairy-ness make him shed his self-conscious inclinations?

Catherine giggles as she pulls her hand away, and looks thoughtfully at the fuzz on your chin, then she shakes her head, and says, "I don't think you have any choice in the matter, though yeah, smooth looks a lot better.. Not that it shows really now, but I mean, when you'd have like a weeks stubble on your chin.." She wrinkles her nose a little as she adds, ".. and it's be really prickly as well, like shaving paper.." She sits up straight again, and grins while she sees you thinking, then says softly, "Well, I guess that if you'd be a fairy and all fairies were naked all the times, it'd be a lot more natural, and then it wouldn't be like.. well.. like walking around naked. Then walking with clothes would be a silly as being naked. I guess that's the way things are for nymphs as well. They're supposed to be naked, or wear like these veils and stuff."

Trace grins at that. "Hell, I'd rather be naked than wear some girly veils! You could wear veils, though." He shrugs, and rubs at his chin musingly. "As fer my beard, I won' let it get so prickly as that. I'll learn t'shave it off. Bat're Jason'll show me." Hmm, that makes him stop and wonder -- DOES Jason shave? He's never seen it. Bat, though, he's surely old enough. Trace has been jealous of his stubble before. "Someone will, anyway. I could get a disposable razor and a can'a cream, and do it in some McDonalds bathroom or something. Door better have a lock though. That'd be embarrassin if somebody walked in." Ahh, the joys of being homeless.

Catherine giggles and sticks out her tongue when she says, "Well, if nobody is wearing veils, then I'm definately not going to wear them either.. When in Rome.. Right?" She looks a bit pensive about a location for you to shave, but then she suddenly smiles and says, "Well.. if you'd like... I'm almost sure I could sneak you in and then you could use our bathroom, because my dad's almost never home to use his shaving stuff anyway, and I'm sure you could use his. I could tell him, but we wouldn't have to, because we could just like.. buy new before he comes home, or perhaps you should get your own set, and I could easily hide it somewhere. But you'd have to be careful not to get yourself cut. That would be bad. So you'd need teaching."

Trace's laugh holds just a hint of embarrassment, a little self-conscious about the fact that he'd need to use a public restroom for such things. But Cathy's easy understanding does help, so he just nods and says with a slight blush, "Yeah, I wouldn't wanna hack my face up. Bat'll show me. Or maybe Ryan. But um. Yeah. I could get my own razor, it's cool. Wouldn't wanna crud up yer dad's blades r'nothin. But thanks, I mean, about usin' yer bathroom... I'd hate to get ya in trouble though, if we got caught."

Catherine smiles and nods, "Well, I'm sure if you ask Alisynde, she lives right there at the apartments over the cafe, right? And I'm sure they have showers down the hall and if she doesn't have any, I could easily lend you a towel, and soap as well.." She looks at you closely, studies your face again, then says with a warm smile, "Though you don't look scruffy to me. Just.. well.. You're lively and I usually get smudged a bit as well, if I go over to the playgrounds, or to the other park. They have great climbing trees there.." She shakes her head quickly, "And you wouldn't be looked at as a criminal, and she'll have to just accept it.. Just.. because.." She gets a determined look. She's going to convince Jenny if need be. She's done it before.

Trace grins with appreciation for your stubbornness and confidence. "Yer too good to me," he admits with quiet honesty, then smiles and slips one of the strings of Mardi Gras beads from around his neck, a necklace of shiny red and violet ones, and says, "C'mere." He tries to drape the beads around your head carefully, but they get caught on an antennea. It makes him giggle a little, tugging gently as he tries to free it, and he mumbles under his breath something about how difficult it is to gift sprites with carnival beads.

A warm smile touches Cathy's lips, as she says softly, "Nah, I just... really like you, you know.." She's not saying anything, but the beads are a nice distraction to not have to explain more, so she just tilts her head a little to try and help you get the beads free from her antena. She lifts a hand up, trying to help, but since she can't see on top of her head, she has to reach blindly, and when she touches your hand, you've already pulled the beads free. She smiles brightly and whispers softly, "Thank you..", for the beads, looking up into your eyes again, as she holds her head still now, so you can put the necklace in place.

Trace carefully unhooks the string of beads from the antennea without doing any damage to either. Your words give him pause, however, and his gaze lifts from his hands to meet yours shyly. "Um. Y'welcome..." he murmurs softly, and he sounds a little confused, as if not sure how to take your words. Finally, "Like ya too," his response just as enigmatic, and he grins and offers, "Even tho I'm still gonna give you polka dots when I get magic." The task of placing the beads around your neck is completed, and with gentle hands he reaches back to pull your red-gold hair free of the beads, letting the tresses settle in a pretty waterfall down your back again. An impulsive shy kiss is planted on your cheek, and he pulls back as though surprised at himself and blinks a little, before wondering bashfully, "Didn't get my lips green, did I?"

Catherine gets a slight blush again, as she you look into her eyes, but luckily she's painted her face all green so you can't see it, right? At least, she hopes so, not usually so awkward with her words. The polka dots break the tension, and she giggles, then leans her head forward so you can easily reach her hair. As she looks back up, you completely surprise her with the kiss to her cheek, and once more you're giving her pink, or rather red spots on her cheeks. She needs a moment, but then she looks back at you, and watches your face with a smile, that turns into an impish grin. "Well.. a little.. And I perhaps I should give you green spots.." She suddenly leans over and kisses you on your cheek, just a quick peck, but enough to leave a faint green mark.

"Ack," Trace giggles, but doesn't seem to really be protesting this method of spotting him with green blotches. It's really more devious than magic, and he couldn't possibly protect himself from them. He grins broadly and murmurs, "Guess that's a much better prank than givin' me a beard, so I won't complain." Yes, green spots over beards any day. He's going to have to rub it off before Jason or someone sees though, or he'll be teased to no end. You're lucky for your face paint. Trace has no such protection from his natural reaction, which is to turn rosy-cheeked with shyness and finally avert his eyes down to his green slushy drink.

Catherine giggles softly, and despite the shyness she's feeling, says softly, "Ohh, I'd better make sure I cover you completely in spots then.." Though she's not so quick to put her words into action, the green paint might be hiding her blush, but she still feels it warming her cheeks. She does lean closer and her eyes lower a bit as well, when she murmurs, "Better make them all green then..", breath warm and playing over your lips with her words before she finally touches your lips, a very soft and hesitant kiss.

You'd think he'd be getting the point by now, but Trace still seems taken by surprise by this next advance. He does not shy away, however, but very tentatively slips a hand up to brush against your jaw. It's still a rather shy and chaste kiss, lips parting just a little, but he's either too shy or inhibited to kiss you deeply. Uncertain. It's all a little fast for him, and he returns the kiss gently, but finally glances down, the contact broken. Cursing his shyness and inexperience almost as soon as he's done it, by the way, but stays silent, head bowed. Finally peeks up through his pale lashes and gives a shy smile, hand sweeping down from away from your jaw to brush fingertips along your neck and then fall away completely, back to his own lap. He looks a little dazed, though still his lips curve in a shy and blushing grin.

Catherine doesn't quite know where to move next as she lets the kiss last, but doesn't take the parting of your lips as a chance to deepen the kiss. It's a little bit of a surprise to herself as well, more of a compulsion suddenly, and when you draw away, so does she. Still, she glances back once more at you, and at that sees the grin on your lips, and although she's a little nervous now, it does relieve her she didn't completely scare you off. So much for boldness, if it leaves even her at a loss for what to do. Finally she just tries to break the tension and says softly, "Well, you give me a glittery nose, I give you green lips.." Though it sounds like she made that up rather quickly.

Trace watches you from under his lashes; yes, you surprised him. That's clear. And you're still surprising him, and he's surprising himself, and it's all very confusing for the poor little bluecap. He feels almost like maybe that vendor didn't make his drink 'virgin' after all, as his head's a little light. He's quiet a moment, but finally grins a little, slightly goofy and lopsided smile and touches fingertips to his lips briefly. Finally the blue-haired artist murmurs in a soft tone, "A fair trade."

Catherine is trying to think hard of something to say, but all she can really do is watch as you touch your lips, and just smile. She finally does find some words to say, but they're still not very intelligable, "Uhmm.. like.. uhmm.. it's.. yeah.." A fair trade, right. That's just what she had in mind with that kiss. She looks away for a moment, and watches as the parade moves past, somewhat in the distance, their spot still quiet, and besides, who's going to pay attention to people kissing during Mardi Gras. When she finally gathers her thoughts somewhat, she looks back at you, and smiles a bit shyly, but warmly, "You've.. seen like.. any of the others around?", changing the subject before things get too awkward.

Trace still has scrambled brains for a moment, so it takes him a moment to work up a proper response to that. Others? What others? He even looks to the parade blankly, like look! There's some others. Dunno who they are, but there ya go. But finally he giggles and nods a little, his mind unlocking, in time not to look like a *total* shy geek here. "I, um. Yeah! I mean.. Jason and I was earnin' beads earlier, havin' a competition to see who could get the most. I lost." He giggles a little. "And, um. I saw Grace around, and I think Nadine, and... I dunno, there's jest so many crowds, it's kinda hard to hook up with ya friends in such a big ocean'a people. We prolly woulda passed on by each other if it hadn't been for ya wings and ya greeness, or me bein' up onna mailbox." He pats the trusty metal mailbox that is currently serving as their bench for viewing the parade.

Catherine giggles at the prospect of Trace trying to earn as many beads as he can, and she just has to ask now, "Ohh.. what did you do to get them to give you beads? And what did Jason do? You said he did get more, though if I had any, you'd get them all.. Well, except for these, I got to treasure these.." She touches the necklace, lying over the silver necklace and pendant she's always wearing. A little bit shy perhaps now, but then she smiles and nods, patting the mailbox as well, tapping it in time to some of the music she hears out in the distance. It's a great drum we're sitting on, did you know? She says with a thoughtful look, "Yeah, probably my entire class could pass by at a couple of feet, and with this crowd I'd still not notice.. I'm glad I found you though.."

Trace blushes at Cathy's question and looks down, stalling by taking a drink from his glass, but that finishes off the drink, so he crunches the cup up in his hands and mumbles with a grin, "Well, uhh. I mean. Well, one thing you gotta realize is that boys throw beads a lot more often than girls do. Girls is mostly all busy earnin' 'em themselves. I got like two from girls, but all the rest we earned down by Cafe Lafittes." Then he blurts proudly, "I din' lift my shirt for NOBODY though." A giggle. "Jason did. S'how he won. He's got his nipple pierced, and y'know, Lafitte boys seem to like that or something. So he got a lot showin' that off. Me, I didn' have nothing like that to show. But once, um. This guy was eating a popsicle, right? And I was *way* behind and had to catch up to Jason somehow, so I went over and, um." His pink cheeks color further. "I licked his popsicle. That's all. But uh. I guess he liked that, so that got me some beads." He covers his face with his hands in embarrassment, peeking out and laughing. "Anyway, uh," he mumbles, drawing his hands away and looking down at his knees again. "Glad I found ya too. It's more fun to watch the parade with someone, and I'm glad I got t'see yer costume."

There's that glimmer again in her eyes, and Cathy giggles as she regards you, seeing the blush creep up on your cheeks once more. See? She's a lot better at it than you are. She does both green spots and pink ones. Thought he pink ones look the cutest. She wrinkles her nose a little at the mention of Jason's pierced nipples, though it's not disgust for the other boy as much as for the idea. She's really not too fond of piercings, even though she does wear an earring in each lobe. "Well, you did share your slushy with me, and I guess that got a straw in it, so if I get any more beads, I'll give you some.." She grins, "I actually got tossed a few, but I rather watched the floats, or tried to, than going crazy over those things.. And yeah, it's great to be able to watch it with you.. I don't think I could think of anyone I'd rather have watched it with.."

"Aww," Trace grins, smiling sheepishly at the praise. "Me neither. Never thought I'd get to watch it with a pretty green sprite who'd polka-dot me." He chuckles and hooks a finger around the strand of beads he recently gave you, giving it a playful tug as he says, "And I doan' think ya should give me no beads. I earned m'self plenty 'nuff, and now that the contest is over, dunno... No point. An' you deserve 'em more. Yer costume's jest the coolest, it looks so great! Deserves plenty more beads than jest a mask." The crushed cup is tossed towards an overflowing trash bin. It probably would have fallen off the heap of trash anyway, being so full, but it never makes it that far. A tall tourist intercepts it with his head, and he looks around drunkenly for who just threw a cup at him, mumbling, "Hey!" Trace blinks and averts his eyes, shoulders hunching a little in that 'don't notice me please' posture. He's trying to supress a giggle, even though he really hadn't meant to hit the man.

Catherine leans in closer at the tug to her necklace, shoulder now lightly touching yours, and she giggles as she says, "Yeah, it's better to just enjoy it.. I know I am.." Faint blush again, but it doesn't show. Perhaps she should always paint herself green, it's great camouflage in any embarassing situation. She watches the cup fly through the air, and knowing this trick almost as good as you, she quickly looks somewhere else really interested after she sees the cup hit a target. And a lot better one than a garbage can. She tries to hide her giggle as well, but whispers, "Wow, dead center.. That's fifty points."

"Fifty points, huh?" Trace grins, looking over. Gosh, make him wish he had more cups, why don'tchya. Though probably best to stick to the drunken tourists (which isn't hard, probably 95 percent of them, he figures) because anybody more alert is probably going to be quick to notice the two giggling kids on the mailbox making such a big deal of looking elsewhere. "What'd it be t'hit that one there? Smaller target." He points to a short, squat man, annoyed that he can't seem to push his way past a group of laughing frat boys. "Bonus points to hit his bald spot, eh?" He flashes a grin.

Catherine sits up straight and peers over the crowd to see the man you are trying to indicate. A bright grin spreads over her face as she spots him, just the perfect target. It's almost like he has those words written all over him. TARGET. She giggles, "Hmm, I'd say fifty points for the head, and the bald spot gives you an extra twentyfive bonus.." She looks pensive though, when she looks at you again, "Hmm.. you're all out of ammo though.." A sly grin on her face, as she adds, "I'd wish you could hit those big guys blocking his way..", then a more thoughtful look,"..but they'd probably not be able to appreciate a joke and start talking about beating people up."

"But they'd prolly move out of his way, t'try and find who did it," Trace points out, sly grin returned. He glances around and finally spies half a beignet, squashed and imprinted from where somebody tromped on it carelessly. He wrinkles his nose at it a little, but hops down from the mailbox, scoops it up gingerly, and scrambles back onto his chosen seat. The beignet, held by pinched thumb and forefinger, is handed to you. "Take ya best shot?" he challenges. "We can always run if they see us." Sure, they'd be giving up their prime parade-watching spot, but maybe it's worth it for a little action. And besides, "If you really wanna see more'a the parade, I know this roof ya kin sneak onto. It all looks pretty neat from above." A little shrug. Seems he's going to leave it up to her. Wanna stick around on the mailbox, or clobber a knuckleheaded frat boy with a soggy, stepped on pastry?

Catherine makes a really ugly face at the soggy thing you lift up and she hesitates a little, but then the prospect of hitting a fratboy wins out. Sure, she has to hold the dirty thing, but -he-'s going to have the thing landing on his head. Well, that is, if her aim is anywhere near decent. But with this crowd, she's sure to hit someone, and besides, there's three of the guys. She looks back at you, and giggles, asking, "Ready to make a run for it? You'll have to show me where to go for that roof spot though.." Without waiting, she hurls the beignet towards it's distant target. You know those cool slow motions? Well, for her it see ms like that for a moment, the soggy flattened beignet tumbling along it's axis through the air, spinning top over end, but then there's the splashing impact. Oops, seems like she missed the top of the head, and has gone for the face. Then time goes back to normal for her, and she's already reaching to grab onto your hand, not to lose you in the crowd, as she slides down from the mailbox, hitting the ground running.

"HEY!!" hollers out one of the angered lads, whirling about and wiping at his face in a rage. But Trace is off, clinging to your hand and laughing merrily as the sounds of their outrage follow. But the bluecap has lived here long enough as a streetrat that he knows how to duck limbs and dodge bodies. These drunken lugs will never keep up, and soon their thick shoulders slump with the realization that they'll never catch the two giggling youths, quite lost in the sea that is Bourbon Street's Mardi Gras crowd.

Catherine laughs heartily and it's a good thing it's so busy and she's just small and can easily slip through the crowd, for her giggling does slow her down rather a lot. She keeps close though, holding your hand tightly, following you into the streets and alleys.

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