Their words mostly noises

[Alejandro Riviera]

He.

Uh huh.

He wasn't Jack. Typical man, dissociating from the situation to compartmentalize the pain, distancing himself from an unpleasant break-up and creating an alter-ego that was the polar opposite of the real, vulnerable, hurt inner him. That was what Jack told Alejo! He literally told Alejo that and now he was doing the thing he lectured Alejo about!

Well if anyone needed to listen to his own advice, it was Jack-Not-Jack Ripley!

"All right, I'll play along." Alejo crossed his arms. "Who are you then, if you're not Jack Ripley? Shirley Temple?"

[Ripper Nightshade]

"No," he said slowly, as if he thought the man was an idiot for even saying that. "I'm Ripper Nightshade."

It was--to most human ears--a ridiculous sounding name. But to Ripper, it was just his name. Nothing ridiculous about it. It was the name he'd been given and it was his. One of the few things that were his. His master had chosen to give him a name that wasn't the same as that he had been molded from and for that, he was quite grateful. It gave him a feeling of being somebody else. He was not Jack Ripley, the boy whose mother didn't love him. He was Ripper Nightshade.

[Alejandro Riviera]

"Ripper. Nightshade."

HOOOOO BOY

Jack lost his fucking marbles. Not one marble, not a handful, he lost the whole goddamn bag of marbles! To give himself an alter-ego like Ripper Nightshade... The break-up must have fucked him up something pretty awful, Alejo thought. He knew it was tough breaking up with Judah but shit, all he did was try to kill himself. He didn't put on eyeliner, paint his nails and go around with a name like Ripper Nightshade!

But also he understood that pain so well. The feeling of losing someone so integral to his being that he no longer wanted to be himself, that was Jack right now. God, it was really hard seeing him like this—especially since Alejo now recognized bits and pieces of himself in Jack. He knew Jack was vulnerable and exposed right now, that he was fragile. One wrong word might flick a tripwire and then Jack might be the one on the dance floor with some guy's hands around his throat!

"Okay honey. I'm sorry." His smile was gentler as he tamped down on the shock and disbelief. Jack needed a friend, not another critic. "Well tell you what, Ripper? Rip? Can I call you Rip? How about we take a little walk around? It's sorta crowded here, isn't it?" It was hard to talk with so many strangers around eavesdropping, really. He gently reached over the table to touch Jack's—Ripper's—forearm. "How about it? Just a little two minute walk, to work off all this barbecue. Hm?"

[Ripper Nightshade]

Rip moved his arm away from the man's hand. There he was, trying to get him to leave again. There was no leaving. Even if he wanted to (and he did want to, even if not for the reason this man was giving him), he wasn't allowed to. He had been given only one direct order and that was to stay here. Although, he supposed he could stretch the term "here" to mean the festival and not this exact bench but he was pretty sure that the intention was for Rip to stay here. Right here.

"I can't," he said. He slid a finger over the smooth, cool glass of the beer bottle nearby. "Whatever you have to say, you can say it here."

[Alejandro Riviera]

"Why can't you leave? Are you waiting for someone?" Marge maybe? She still wasn't getting back to him, which was concerning. He would have thought that with Jack in such a fragile state that Mama Bear Marge would be hovering around constantly, making sure he was all right. Hell, she barely knew Alejo and she took him hostage!

He checked his phone again; nothing. Alejo worried his lower lip as he studied Jack one more time. Still Jack, despite the makeup and that strange foreign aura about him. Did Jack have a twin? A twin called Ripper Nightshade? Alejo doubted it; Jack said he was an only child. He would have mentioned a twin for sure, if he had one!

[Ripper Nightshade]

"Yes."

And where did he go? Rip scanned the crowd around them. Would he leave him on his own this long? Not usually. Maybe something happened to him. But if that was the case, he could have called for him. They had a telepathic link as long as Keith opened it first. There was nothing, though. How long had it been? Not that long. Rip had a meal, a drink, and a stilted conversation with this man and then with that woman who worried over him. Not that long.

"He'll be back for me and if I'm not here..."

Then he didn't know, actually. But the longer he was away, the more antsy he felt. Just like when he left him at home for hours and hours on end. He was coming back... wasn't he? Rip idly chipped at the nail polish.

"I want a phone," he said wistfully when he noticed the man checking his. This one way telepathy wasn't cutting it for him. Keith--the creator--he could just cut him out any time he felt like it. Which was most of the time. Oh. Hold on. He tapped his lips and then his lips curved into a smile.

"You can call him!" Why hadn't he thought of that sooner? "He has a phone." He pulled up the sleeve of his snakeskin coat and there it was, written in haphazard black ink. "This is his number. I memorized it." He said this in a proudly sly tone with a sly smile to go with it.

[Alejandro Riviera]

"He?" Brayden? No. Jack would never speak of Brayden in that tone, as if he was half afraid of what might happen if Brayden didn't find him sitting here if and when he returned. Jack only ever spoke of Brayden in rapturous tones, practically sickening in the adoration that shone out of every orifice of his being. (And vice versa, too!) To go from that to this dour kind of resigned voice... It didn't add up.

"Oh—okay. Yeah you wrote his number down..." That was not Brayden's number. Okay... And what was with that smile? That was not a Jack smile at all. "What should I say to him? What's his name?" He input the foreign number but he didn't press the call button yet. Alejo glanced around, then back at Jack—Ripper. "Should I tell him I'm taking you for a walk...?"

[Ripper Nightshade]

"Keith."

He did sort of need his name if he was going to call him, didn't he? But... Rip raised his brows. Tell him they were going for a walk? Why would he do that?

"No... tell him I'm still here." Maybe he needed the reminder. Or maybe not... Rip half frowned now. "You could ask if we could go for a walk. Then I wouldn't have to wait here. My bum is starting to get sore."

Not that it was anything in comparison to other ways to have a sore bum but... He didn't want to sit forever. And... he did kinda want to see the rest of the festival, rather than being stuck glued here in this same spot while everybody else had fun. There were other things to look at and he wanted to see them. The food had been discovered but what about the games people were playing? And what about the rides? Although... he might be too tall for those. A lot of them looked very small.

[Alejandro Riviera]

"Keith." Interesting name... given that Marge was railing about some fucker named Keith who tried to fuck things up. She didn't go into details but Alejo got the feeling Keith was public enemy number one. Same Keith as this one? This one who was keeping Jack here and making him talk in that tone? It seemed likely, in which case... what Alejo was about to do, he didn't feel the slightest bit sorry about.

"All right. I'll ask him." He smiled as he put the phone up to his ear and juuust grazed the call button—but didn't actually activate it. Like HELL Alejo was asking some jack-off for permission to take his friend around the festival. Whatever fucker Jack took up with wasn't going to control his life like a puppet master. Not on his watch! And he could just imagine Brayden's face if he knew that someone was keeping Jack under their thumb like this! Or Marge for that matter!

Jack didn't even look happy! That was the kicker; if he was happy, Alejo might have supported him but he wasn't. So he held a pretend conversation over the phone, and quickly 'hung up' afterwards. "He said it's fine! Come on, let's go check out some of those games, huh?" Alejo stood quickly, reaching out once again to take Jack's hand. "You want me to win you a giant octopus toy? I have great aim, you know! I can win one easy!"

[Ripper Nightshade]

Color him surprised. Rip watched the man on the phone. His exchange seemed oddly positive for somebody speaking to Keith. Nobody ever sounded that chipper talking to him. Maybe nothing could get this man down. Interesting. Rip tilted his head. And even more surprising... he said it was fine. Fine to leave? To take a walk? Rip didn't know how he felt about it; was he being brushed off or was something else going on? Keith wasn't usually so... generous.

"...okay."

Rip was still hesitant as he took the man's offered hand. There was a feeling in his head--it rippled oddly against his forehead. Magic. But it was brief and once he stepped away from the table, it went away. Using his free hand, he reached up and gently rubbed his own forehead.

"What would I do with it?" he asked, confused by the idea of having ownership of a giant octopus toy.

[Alejandro Riviera]

"Oh you know, you could play with it. Sleep on it. Give it to... someone you care about, maybe, as a way to smooth things over..."

Brayden would like a giant octopus toy right? As long as it came from Jack... Whatever the hell happened to split them, Alejo still had hope that they weren't broken up for good! That maybe there was still good in the world, and fairness and justice, and true love did prevail. Hell, he had to believe that—his own love life was on the line, too! If he couldn't believe in love, how the hell could he believe in what he had with Seth?!

As he led Jack away, he checked again to make sure no asshole-looking... asshole was running up to try and tell Jack what to do. It almost defied belief to think that Jack, strong-minded and proud, could let anyone do this to him. But then again if he was really, really low and if his heart was shaky and vulnerable, any creep might come and take advantage of him.

Alejo squeezed his hand gently as they melted into the crowd. He smiled up at Jack in what he hoped was a supportive way. "We can do anything you want, so don't hold back. Today's your day, let's forget everything and have a good time, okay?"

[Ripper Nightshade]

Was he suggesting he give it to Keith? Rip nearly choked on a laugh, it came so suddenly. The idea of presenting Keith with anything ever was--never going to happen. He would burn the thing before he would accept it. That or he'd use it to suffocate Rip. ...maybe it would be best not to get any giant stuffed toys. Keith and toys... never a nice combination. Never.

Who else could he mean? Raphael? ...There was nothing to smooth over there but... Raphael would definitely take to something like that. Rhys? ...no.

"I don't know what I want," he said vaguely because he didn't. Nobody ever gave Rip choices. Saying he could do anything was overwhelming. Where did he even begin? It felt good, though. Just walking through the crowds. Looking at the different people. Smelling the different smells. Hearing people talk in different voices. Somewhere, somebody was playing some kind of instrument. There was a lot here. A lot that his senses were normally deprived of.

Rip stopped when they grew closer to the person playing the musical instrument. Rip knew from Jack's young memories that it was a violin. It sounded lovely. There were others standing around the musician in a little half circle and Rip stood, transfixed as he listened to the music. Young Jack loved music, too. It soothed something inside him when he was upset and sad. For some reason, although the song was a happy, jaunty tune, Rip felt something warm slide down his face. Surprised, he reached up and felt it. A tear. Out of emotion and not pain. He blinked and the feeling subsided.

The people around them applauded the musician and Rip hesitated before following suit. The musician bowed and people stepped forward to put money into a hat.

[Alejandro Riviera]

"Then we'll walk around and see what catches your eye."

They wended their way through the crowd, sometimes getting run over by kids, sometimes being trodden on by older folks. There were a lot of couples too, walking around hand-in-hand, and some groups of friends out to have a good time. Everyone was here to enjoy themselves; no one came to look for trouble. The cop in him was wary of a couple of hooligans, but to his surprise they let himself and Jack pass by quite politely, stepping aside to make way for them. Huh. Appearances could really be deceiving, couldn't they?

Jack seemed drawn to the busker playing the violin nearby, so Alejo let him lead the way over. As they stood listening to it, his eyes were on Jack and so he caught the tear and his heart wrenched in his chest for poor Jack. Alejo slid a hand behind his back to rub it soothingly; he stepped closer, too, offering some measure of physical comfort. Just because they weren't dating or sleeping together didn't mean that he lost all feelings for Jack. Part of him still felt connected to him, and to the man he had tracked all these years. That wouldn't go away anytime soon because—yes, he was genuinely fond of Jack Ripley, or Ripper Nightshade, or whoever he was on any given day.

"You okay?" The crowd dispersed. Alejo slid an arm around Jack's waist to guide him past the violinist, though he did toss a bill into the hat in passing.

[Ripper Nightshade]

"Yes."

He was okay. He just felt a little emotional when he really listened to the music. There wasn't music at the apartment, not unless Raphael was home. Rhys didn't listen to music and Keith... his taste in music was as violent as he was. Nothing beautiful about it.

"I've never heard somebody play live music before."

It was different when it was live in front of him. The artist was right there, pouring their heart into their craft. It was beautiful. He liked it. That gave him pause; he liked it. He liked something. Well, he liked beer, too. And those foods they ate. Burnt ends and whatever else they ate. He felt... more like a person now and less like a tool for somebody's amusement.

"Oh..." He stopped at a booth covered in photographs of cats. Delighted, Rip covered his mouth and moved closer. An older woman smiled at him.

"Are you interested in adopting a cat? We're having a winter special at our shelter for the weekend of the festival!" She handed him a pamphlet and he looked down at it. There was a picture of a cartoon cat on the front. When he opened it, there was a list of bolded questions with answers beneath. Things like how much it cost to adopt a cat and how to get them used to eating new foods by introducing them to it slowly.

"I am," he said, "but I can't."

He handed the pamphlet back.

[Alejandro Riviera]

"Ah? Really?" Jack never heard live music? That sounded oddly jarring to what he knew of Jack. If anything he could easily see Jack in a concert hall decked out in his finest, ready to slay with the musicians on stage, or sitting in a lounge with a snifter of brandy, swirling it while an elegant pianist played in the background. It didn't seem like the sort of thing Jack would shy away from, live music and performances and bands...

While he thought about that and puzzled over it, Jack was drawn to the booth put up by the local shelter. "Shelby, hi!" Alejo knew the lady behind the makeshift stall! She was one of the people who had gone around canvassing the neighborhood asking for donations to the shelter, and she and Alejo got to talking very randomly. But she was a nice lady and occasionally Alejo went around to the shelter to pet the dogs and chat with her, looking for activities that didn't involve drugs or booze.

"Hello Allie!" She leaned over to give him a brief, quick hug, but then turned back to Jack with a sympathetic smile. "That's all right, dear. If you're ever interested, you can come to the shelter later.  Oh—but here. Here, take this." She handed him a small tote and a t-shirt with a picture of a fuzzy kitten on it, smiling up at him the way someone's aunt might smile at her favorite nephew. "And you enjoy yourself, you hear? It was so nice seeing you again, Allie. Here, you have one too."

"Thanks Shelby!" Alejo laughed as she handed him a similar tote and t-shirt and he modeled the shirt over his chest. "Hey, looks pretty good huh? We could match Rip!"