Their words mostly noises

[Ripper Nightshade]

It wasn't often that Rip had a chance to go out. Usually, he was locked up for whenever the Master needed him. But today, he was part of the stakeout, mostly because apparently some of their allies weren't available. Rip was madly curious about everything he saw at the winter festival but Keith kept grappling him by the back of the neck or the hair whenever he paused to look at a booth or stopped to check out a ride. In the fairy realm, these type of things didn't exist. Festivals. They had holidays, but not as such. They were more like... rituals.

Keith pointedly told Rip to stay put at a wooden table, arranged with others. He could smell food cooking nearby. He didn't need to eat but he could eat. And he kind of wanted to try the various things he was smelling. Keith threatened him that if he moved from his seat, he was going to make him pay for it later. Rip looked down at his own hand for a long moment, nodding.

Then Keith was gone, storming through a crowd of people like he owned the place. Rip watched him go, with a little hop-skip of the beat of his little stone heart, imbued with the spark of life of another.

Left to his own devices, Rip honestly didn't know what to do with himself. Without a long list of specific orders or his master there to advise him when something happened, it left him in a state of panic. He curled his fingers inward and looked around at the people around, catching pieces of conversation here and there. Since he'd been told to stay put in the chair, he couldn't get up. So he looked and watched instead.

Until somebody took a seat across from him, startling him. Rip looked up from where he'd been inspecting his chipped black nail polish.

@open

[Alejandro Riviera]

(Sshh shhh)

"You did something to your hair! I love it!"

Alejo grinned across the table at Jack, after throwing himself down into the seat opposite him. Really, he was exhausted! He hadn't even covered all of the attractions here but he was beat and his feet hurt and god, there were so many kids around the place! Normally Alejo loved children but it looked like the local school had taken all their students out on a field trip, and he was overdosing on them.

Sighing, he threw himself across the table, letting his fingers curl around Jack's. "I didn't know doing homework was so hard, Jack! God, I haven't worked this hard since... ever!"

Yeah he was scoping the place out before the Big Date. No big deal. You know, just... Not like he was anxious or anything, he just wanted to see everything because he knew that if he came with Seth, his eyes would only be on Seth. That was almost a given! And he'd miss all the rides, the food, the games--he wouldn't take any of it in, which was a shame since this was his first winter festival! So he just came to have a look around, eat some corn dogs--not get drunk or wasted somewhere. He was... trying to stay away from vices.

"Where's Bee?" Alejo lifted his head. "Did you come with Margie?"

[Ripper Nightshade]

What?

He did nothing to his hair. It just grew this way and Keith liked it long. Rip repressed the urge to touch his own hair, as if it had changed in just seconds, from after Keith left up to this point where a stranger suddenly sat down across from him. Rip eyed him with suspicion. His hands were taken, as familiarly as if this guy was Keith. Not that Keith was the hand holding type, but it was that sort of... intimate familiarity.

Rip narrowed his eyes and pulled his hands away. Homework? What was he talking about? Wasn't homework something children did? Jack. He called him Jack. Ah. Threading his own fingers together atop the table, he eyed this new person who apparently knew Jack.

"No," he said, because he hadn't come with any of these people named and they didn't sound familiar to him anyway. Except the Bee part, which had been an unfortunately strange memory that awakened just as Keith climaxed last night. He didn't like it at all when Rip uttered the nickname, either, strangling him until his throat turned purple. Luckily, he healed quickly or it might have been noticeable today.

Rip leaned in, too.

"Have you eaten the food here?"

[Alejandro Riviera]

Sheesh! What was with that Look? Alejo sat up straighter and narrowed his eyes back, half believing that Jack was playing with him. Or maybe he was tired; he had those kind of dark circles under his eyes, like he hadn't gotten enough sleep. And something was a little off about him. There was this kind of nervous energy to him that regular old self-assured, King of the World Jack Ripley never had—at least not in public!

"Ah? Some? Ooh—smell that? Barbecue!" It was nearby, wafting towards them—something vaguely, temptingly smokey and sweet and savory. "Do you want to split a half rack with me? Maybe we can get some wings, too!"

Hell, half the fun of a festival was the food, right? Alejo stood up grinning, rounding the table to tug on Jack's hand. "Come on handsome, I'll even treat you, for all the tender loving care you gave me when I was... ah... sick."

The smile turned into something a shade less playful and much more genuinely grateful. He swooped in to kiss Jack on the cheek, too. "I have so much to tell you, baby, you have no idea what's been going on since I flew the nest!" Marge sort of booted him out after he met Seth—as though she somehow knew that he was in good hands... Which he was!

[Ripper Nightshade]

Barbecue. It had a different meaning where he came from. A form of torture and death. But he assumed it meant something else here. Rip tilted his head slightly, though, in curiosity. Did he just say wings?

"You know how to get wings?"

That sounded promising, although strangely off topic. Humans, he had been learning, were very strange that way. They weren't at all like the fallen and fairies he was used to. Watching as the young man got to his feet, Rip's hand was taken and the man tried to tug him to his feet. Rip resisted. He had to; the one directive he'd been given was to sit here.

"I can't."

There was a lot going on that he made little sense of. Why was he being kissed on the cheek? All the hand holding, too. There was a lot of affection coming off this person, not directed at him, though. At Jack. How... predictable. Rip was aware that he was only a stand in for Jack when it came to Keith. No matter what he did to try and please his creator, there was no pleasing him. He didn't want Rip; he wanted Jack. Moving his hands under the table, he turned his gaze from the man.

"I have to stay here."

[Alejandro Riviera]

"Wings? Oh yeah, they're right over there! And they have craft beer from Portland. Oh god we're going to get so fat, Jack!" But worth it! Small towns like these were surprisingly good on the food front! It was probably because people were bored; they spent all their time either sitting around people-watching or developing kick-ass barbecue recipes, it seemed. Alejo wasn't complaining though!

And thennnn... What? Was going on? With Jack? He was really not acting like himself! Alejo looked at him a bit funny for a moment. Couldn't leave... Had to stay here... Why? Jack was almost acting like a whole different person, and that was concerning as hell. With his cop senses tingling, Alejo nodded slowly. Where was Brayden or Margie? Seriously, the three of them were practically inseparable the last time Alejo saw them! Now Jack was here all alone?

Maybe Jack was waiting for them to come back... That explained why he couldn't leave but it definitely didn't explain why he kept his hands all to himself like that, or why he pulled away when Alejo kissed his cheek. His goddamn cheek, it was a grandma peck practically! (Seth was rubbing off on him, what could he say?)

"Okay baby, well... I'll go get the food and you sit here and. Uh. You just sit here, yeah?" He moved off towards the stall, though not before throwing a look over his shoulder at Jack. Seriously... seriously weird. Maybe he was really sick. Maybe that was why Marge booted him, because Jack was ill... But damnit, they could have told him! He would have helped! Although... at the time he was kind of just getting off the crazy train so... maybe not.

It was a little while later that he returned with a tray of delicious barbecue and two bottles of cold craft beer. "Hope you're hungry, cause they gave us a ton of food! And look! Even dessert!" Which was candied bacon... meaty and fatty, and artery-clogging, but hey. Worth.

[Ripper Nightshade]

Huh? Right over where? Rip looked but he didn't see anything that resembled any wings that he knew of; he should have known better, anyway. Wings. They wouldn't just have them at a human holiday festival. It must be a different kind of wing. Bird wings? Rip liked birds. He caught one at the apartment that he had grown quite fond of. He thought Raphael liked it, too. But then the creator found out about it and crushed it in his hand right in front of him. Rip felt so... heavy, even thinking about it.

Jack. He tried not to express his distaste for the name. He hated it as much as his creator hated the name Bee.

Clasping his hands together between his knees, he eyed the young man from behind a dark curtain of wavy hair, watching as he left. His gaze was still on him when the man looked back at him, unwavering. Why did he look back? To make sure he stayed put? Maybe he's a test from the creator... Then it was a good thing he didn't break his code.

After a few minutes, Rip gave up on the man coming back. He looked around. Where was his master, anyway? He said he had work to do at the festival but he was nowhere within sight. A girl came by and said hi to him and he said hi back; she didn't stay long, just said he looked lonely sitting all alone. She asked if he was waiting for somebody and he said yes. That seemed to satisfy her.

After she left, Rip wondered why he hadn't kept her around longer. Sitting there alone was... becoming boring. He began to pick at his nail polish, then looked up when a tray was plunked down on the table before him and the man came back, sliding into the bench across from him again. Rip stared at what was on the tray. Fairies ate a lot of things like flowers and plants and foods made from them. But this was... much different looking.

"This is for two people?" he asked in some surprise, studying each thing with curiosity. Everything was so shiny and brown and it did smell... very delicious. It made his mouth water. Interesting!

[Alejandro Riviera]

"Yep! Small town hospitality, huh? Nothing like Boston or New York, am I right?"

Alejo rubbed his hands gleefully. Although he kept a covert, watchful eye on Jack, he didn't want to be obvious about it. Knowing that Jack was... Jack meant that he understood a lot of what weighed on Jack's mind. Sometimes that other, darker side had a bad habit of taking over—didn't Alejo know the half of it! And when that side took over, it wasn't unusual to act out of sorts. Alejo knew that the crazed idiot he was at that club was nothing like the real him, and maybe this was a symptom of that same madness manifesting in Jack.

In that case, he needed to keep an eye on Jack until Margie or Brayden could come back to claim him. He sent a text to Marge asking about Jack, but she didn't get back to him, so he figured she must be busy. Either way, luckily Alejo came across Jack!

"Ooh these burnt ends look so good! Try one. The guy said this beer goes perfectly with the barbecue sauce." He lifted the bottle and clinked it with the other one on the table. "Cheers baby!" He popped one of the pieces of meat into his mouth and then let out a soft groan. "Oh my god, that melts in your mouth! Jack. I've died and gone to barbecue heaven."

[Ripper Nightshade]

...right. He didn't know what that meant but he half shrugged. Yeah. He was right, probably.

Was he meant to do that, too? With his hands? Was it a human custom? Rip lifted his hands together, rubbing them a couple times to echo the action. Look at him, a proper human! His attention was brought back down to the tray of food and he was invited to try something called a 'burnt end', whatever that was. He tried it; the man was correct. It melted in his mouth, oddly. It didn't look like something that melted. But it did.

"Mm..." And the drink, a beer. Rip knew about beer. He had them often with the creator. He picked up the other bottle and drank some. It was... much better than the kind he typically was given.

Curious words. Rip reached over and slid his hand over the man's wrist, two fingers moving over his pulse. It was definitely still there.

"You're still alive. Don't worry."

Soon, he was trying the various foods and drinking in between. Everything was delightful, though different. There were different flavors to each item on the tray. And the man was right; they did go well with the sauce and the drink. Everything seemed to be made to be consumed together, surprisingly.

[Alejandro Riviera]

Hm? Jack slipped fingers over his wrist like he was feeling Alejo's pulse—which he was. Or seemed to. Alejo gave him a puzzled look, but smiled in that "not sure if joking or serious" way at him. "You're silly today!" He laughed. "That was a terrible joke and you ought to be ashamed of yourself, sir. I'm not going to tell Bee you just did that, because I don't want to destroy your image with him."

Really, it was such a corny joke! But Alejo DID set him up for it... Kind of. Shaking his head, he moved on to one of the ribs—practically falling off the bone!—and had a sip of the beer to go with the next bite. Mmmm... This was to die for! And look at Jack, sampling a little of everything, not even afraid to get messy. Barbecue was messy, no getting around that, and they didn't have forks or anything so it was nature's cutlery only—fingers. Alejo was sort of surprised Jack seemed surprised at the food, but... maybe there wasn't good barbecue in Boston?

Something was off. Yeah. Way off. He didn't know what, because that was definitely Jack Ripley sitting opposite him, speaking with his voice and his tone, looking at him with those familiar hazel eyes. But the mannerism. Hm. As Jack would say. Hm.

"So what's been going on lately? We haven't had much of a chance to talk!"

[Ripper Nightshade]

There was Bee again. Rip turned his head slightly but his gaze remained on him. Destroy his image? What image did he have of Jack? Maybe he should destroy his image. This man thought he was him. He might go back and tell him things.

After satisfying his curiosity and trying a little of everything on the tray, Rip wiped his dirty hands with some of the napkins stacked nearby. It didn't rid him of the dirty feeling, though. He looked around for water but there didn't appear to be any close enough to use. So he licked his fingers and then dried them off. Better.

He picked up the bottle of beer and drank deeply, until the rest of the bottle was gone. Then he set it down and lifted the back of a hand to his mouth to quietly burp. Too much at once tended to do that. Lowering his hand, he considered the question put forth to him, although he had no idea how to approach it.

"Nothing," he said. He didn't know what was expected from this conversation. They never spoke before but the man still thought he was Jack. What did they possibly talk about?

"What's going on with you?"

[Alejandro Riviera]

"Nooothing?" He drew out the word skeptically, eyeing Jack with his brows raised. Right. Nothing happened, and that was why Jack was sitting here alone, looking like he'd lost about half of his soul, studying chipped painted nails. Jack Ripley would never let his nails get into that condition! And he wouldn't lick his fingers—he would have insisted on getting forks, even if they had to whittle them out of sticks themselves!

"Oh my god." Alejo stared. "You and Bee broke up!" That was the only explanation he could think of for this... this... For all of this! This was Jack at a new low! His clothes! His hair! It looked good but it definitely lacked that distinctive Jack Ripley flair and panache. Alejo lifted a hand to his mouth. "You guys—no way. No freaking WAY you fucked that up!"

How could that happen when Brayden was head over heels for him, and Jack was more than obsessed with him? They were like the ultimate relationship goal! What the hell happened while he was gone? Alejo seriously could find no other explanation for what was going on and he refused to believe that Jack and Brayden were done. Not unless something so terrible happened that it drove a permanent wedge between them!

[Ripper Nightshade]

"No," he said, because they never dated in order to break up. He crossed his arms over the table and looked over at the man, who seemed shocked by the idea of Jack fucking up. Fucking up his relationship? The creator hated that relationship. He liked it at first. But after his golem was blown away, he was furious and unhappy with Bee. Brayden Smith. The name was practically a curse word whenever the creator used it.

"I asked you what happened with you. Why are you bringing it back to me? I said nothing. Nothing happened."

Nothing was uninteresting. It was meant to be boring, so they wouldn't talk about it. Besides which, not much really happened in Rip's life. He was stuck in the apartment pretty much on a permanent basis. All he did was pace around when he got bored, read whatever was in the apartment, and he had sex when the master came home, good mood or bad.

[Alejandro Riviera]

"Oh okay, we're just going to pretend all this is normal? All right." Alejo spoke with attitude but goddamn it, he was worried. If Jack and Brayden really broke up... Shit. What the fuck! What chance did the rest of the world have if a perfect couple like Jack and Brayden couldn't even cut it?! And Brayden was so patient, so accepting, that it was hard to imagine what Jack could do to him to hurt him that badly!

He sat there for a moment in utter disbelief, and then threw up his hands. "Well fuck Jack!" Now he really couldn't leave Jack alone! What if Jack tried to do something stupid—the kind of stupid Alejo attempted? Yeah, he was sticking to Jack like glue from now on! Alejo swept the tray aside just to do something to express his shock and dismay.

"I-I met someone. He helped me out of that dark place I was in." Alejo tried but his mind kept circling back to Jack and Brayden. He leaned closer, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Come on, Jack. Baby talk to me! I'm worried about you. Something's not right and it—it's scaring me. If you and Bee are having problems... You have to work them out! When was the last time you saw him?"

[Ripper Nightshade]

His lip curled slightly. Jack. He kept calling him that. And for a moment, he thought that the man was going to drop the thing about Jack and Brayden but no. He claimed he met someone and Rip waited for more but it was a short description and then the man was leaning toward him, speaking quietly, as if he thought whatever Rip was hiding was a delicate manner.

Again. Jack. This was getting to be too much. Rip wasn't good at playing pretend. He had never been good at it; he didn't have that kind of scope of imagination. He was made that way, probably. Meant to remain within the scope of his creators wants. Why did he bring me here and leave me here? Rip didn't understand.

"Never," he said finally after a long moment of silence. He lowered his head but looked at the man through his dark hair, with those dark rings of kohl around his eyes. "Because I'm not Jack."