Don't You Want Me?

[Larkspur Loncar]

Larkspur had found out that caring for a woman when he wouldn't have minded still being taken care of by even the most over-protective mother in the world but his mother and father were long gone and now he had to care for his grandmother. There was a special connection between a boy and his nanna, or Lark had thought this before he became the first one that she had forgotten. His anger had gotten the best of him and he had ended up with black eyes. Of course when the boy had been asked about it he would have said, 'You should see the other guy' but this was not the truth. The other, older boy had been left relatively unscathed and even as he said it, Lark knew just from looking into the other person's eyes that they could tell that they were well aware that he was lying. What they didn't know was that there had been more lying than just about the fight, no one had known until Azolla and Calla had left and Amaryllis had followed. Somehow they all seemed to understand that now they would all have to take care of what was left of their family and of each other. But until today, Larkspur had never actually had to get a job. Edelweiss had helped them but now he was having a harder time because he had moved out and needed to pay his rent. He was just glad that he didn't have to be responsible for his sisters as well, he simply couldn't - even Laelia was trouble and she was a harder worker than he was. But there was nothing he could do to restore his nanna's mind so he put on his black jeans and the shirt that had been given to him as a part of his uniform.

It was a rather ugly shirt and clearly used and re-used by other workers - there were blood stains on the shoulder of it, hidden by black dye and the scent of laundry detergent but Larkspur didn't mind. This was a job and the money he would earn would help his nanna and their three-person house. So with a yawn, Lark left his grandmother's home and rode Edelweiss' old bicycle to his job. It was a thirty-minute ride at a fast pace so when he arrived twenty minutes later, Lark was panting for air and hooking up the bike to a chain fence that he suspected many of the animals had been earlier this day. He put on the pin that had a piece of tape over it with his name written correctly for the pin wrote 'Larksper'. It was quite amazing to the young man that someone could not spell 'spur' correctly but he didn't question anything. As monotonous or stupid this job would be, he would do it - even if he knew it would probably also mean cleaning up some bastard kid's vomit at the end of the day. Whether it would be his own or someone elses he could not foresee.

The sixteen-year-old wizard flicked his blue orbs around and swung the back pack that had rested on his shoulders during the ride which was equipped with water, Bertie Botts, a sandwich and a few pumpkin pasties that he had swipped from the Great Hall at Hogwarts during dinner. But the slightly stale treats were not what he was searching for, instead it was his wand. The holly and ebony wand mixture was slipped into his front pocket before he zipped the back pack up once more and walked towards the amusement park with a gaze that took everything in but gave nothing out.

El lame-o. Sorry, it's kinda bad.​

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[Tempest Sun]

Bleurgh, same here. My apologies.

Jobs were not a thing that one would usually associate with a girl like Tempest Sun. It wasn't as if she were some bratty rich kid, no. It was more the fact that she was.. motivated. The girl had goals, high ones at that. And working a couple of days at some carnival was not exactly an effective way of reaching them. What she should have been doing was making in-roads with her industry of choice - dance. Hassling choreographers, going to auditions, attending workshops. It was the latter that had caught her attention, actually. There were some invite-only classes coming up, for which Tempest was honored to have been chosen. However, money didn't grow on trees, and a week-long trip to LA might take a few branches. So this was where the job came in. Luckily, one of Tem's English friends from school had gotten her one. The distance hadn't proven a problem, as both of her parents had offered to side-along apparate their daughter wherever needs be. So with the logistics of money-making sorted out, all that was left was to get ready and go. The uniform didn't make the place seem promising, but Tempest was not a high-maintenance girl, and barely paused to acknowledge its questionable cleanliness.

After slipping the shirt over her head, she pulled into a ponytail a wavy mass of ombre hair. Hers had once been short, boyish, and harshly copper; but with maturity, Tempest had let herself grow into a young woman far more accepting of her femininity. Growing up surrounded by misogynists had made the teenager very wary and self-conscious, hidden behind baggy clothes and curse words. Whether it was trying to prove herself to be as good a dancer as the boys, or as smart as her cousins, she had fought everything and everyone since childhood. She was still a sassy little s**t, but Tempest had tired of all the battles, and the fire that in the past had left her burnt and alone was waning with time. Nowadays the sixteen-year-old was far more comfortable in her own skin, though her general manner hadn't improved by much. People didn't think she was good enough? Well f**k them with a rusty spoon. She gave her shirt a tug, peering at the name tag in distain. 'Tempist' had drawn on a thick sharpie 'E', almost passive aggressively. Then again, at least it wasn't 'Tampon'. She'd heard that one a few times.

Within the hour, Tempest was giving her mother a kiss goodbye. She shook off the heavy post-apparition feeling she often got, and looked around the place she would be working at over the next few weeks. It was really a bit of a dump, if one was brutally honest - and she was more than adequate at being that. None the less, if being here would take her a step closer to that workshop, then Tem would do so wholeheartedly. She was a pretty hard worker, it had to be said. As the park's newest employee made her way towards what she presumed was the sign-in or admin office. But with a glance to her right, Tempest laid eyes on a boy in a uniform identical to hers. Socialising was not the girl's strong suit, but something told her that this boy was someone to make an exception for. Of course, Tem wanted to get on with her co-workers. The smoother things ran over the next few weeks, the quicker she could make a few bucks and be on her way. With a few steps toward the - admittedly rather handsome - guy, she discovered that he had some prominent black eyes; whoever he'd crossed had roughed him up pretty badly. The non-existent filter on Tempest's thoughts remained non-existent, as she abruptly crossed his path and interrupted whatever thoughts he thinking. "What happened to your face?"​

 

[Larkspur Loncar]

Larkspur heard someone ask him what had happened to his face rather bluntly instead of how most people seemed to dance around it. He cursed under his breath as he thought sourly, I should have used bruise paste. But the fact of the matter was that it hadn't been important when he was being interviewed so why would it matter now on his first day of work? Although he felt this way he also knew now that a bunch of strangers would inquire about his black eyes because he had decided to go for the 'au natural' look and healing pattern. Lark knew that he could not tell anyone what had provoked him to get into a fight for several reasons, the first being that he was a private person and wanted to keep things this way. The second was that if he had told anyone of his rage and hurt about his nanna's memory loss he would be mocked or pitied - neither of which Larkspur wanted for he had his pride. All the boy wanted to do was to get work and money to help with the house that he lived in and get good enough grades to graduate and move on from Hogwarts with a steady career to help his family as much as he could before they were stable. It was more than he could say for his older brother and sister and their personal ambitions. However, this was not the task at hand so he looked up and over to the owner of the voice that rung in his ears and gave him a subdued scowl on his dark face. The Ravenclaw boy ran his hand through his shaggy, russet brown hair as he grumbled, "Nothing." Any fool could see that this was a blatant lie, he had two very prominent bruises around his eyes, which were a colour poets would call bistre and a split lip that was slowly healing. However, Larkspur's knuckles were a lot worse for they were cut so badly from the impact of flesh and bone that the whites of his bone was very nearly showing and ached each time he so much as twitched a finger. It was his own fault for picking this fight but he was not sorry in the least, he felt a deep satisfaction when he made the first impact onto his rivals nose and felt the break at the blow but it had lessened with each one that was returned to him.

Lark's fleeting gaze found himself looking upon the path he had arrived and then slowly back to this girl only now noting that she was wearing a shirt matching in cleanliness and design to his own. He took a half-step forward, lazily making his way towards the gates as he asked in a more polite tone to his British accent, "Do you know where we are supposed to go?" After he was hired, Lark had been told that another one of the employees would show him around but the spotty faced teenager had lacked interest and wondered off after their boss was out of sight. He had a feeling that the boy would have not done so if he had been a pretty girl like the one before him. He narrowed his gaze onto her name tag and smirked in amusement at the correction she too had made to the name tag given to her. The spelling of their boss was clear evidence of what type of business this was so he was sure none of it really mattered at the end of the day so he shrugged his shoulders before he wondered absently if he should introduce himself to Tempest even though the name tags could have done that job for them. Thinking it polite and not truly caring, Lark shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and said, "I'm Lark."​

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[Tempest Sun]

Tempest gave a knowing nod, as the boy claimed that his injuries were 'nothing'. They certainly didn't look like nothing to the daughter of a healer, or as a girl who'd seen her fair share of black eyes, though luckily never in a mirror. It looked like someone had gotten him pretty badly, and it had to be said, she was curious as to why. It was a rare occurence for people to open up to her. Maybe it was her brusqueness that scared people away, maybe the fact that she was so scared to open up in return. Whatever it was, Tempest was oblivious. It wasn't like this one would see her any differently. "So you suck at fighting and lying," she joked, the smallest of smiles pulling at her watermelon lips. However, Tempest understood the concept of privacy, even if that didn't often seem the case. Turning her attention to a loose clump of mud beneath her feet, she didn't push the matter. Even if it was a big deal, it wasn't a worry for her shoulders. It was his business, and probably boring at that. Besides, the girl had bigger things to focus on - the biggest being time. RSVPs were closing in less than a week, and Tem was here in England, about to begin spending her days dodging sticky-fingered kids and love-sick preteens. Had she been at home, the garage would be flooded with the sound of music, a blaring silence that made Tempest feel drained of worries, at peace. That garage was her space. To drown everything else out, to dance. The workshop itself was in less than a month, and practice was vital. Making an impact on the many scouts that attending was an all or nothing thing. You either did or you didn't.

Adjusting her ponytail absentmindedly, her ears pricked up as the boy introduced himself. Surely he knew that their name tags had already done that job? Were his retinas damaged in the fight, or something? "Good for you," Tempest said with a tilt of her head, starting towards the building she had been eyeing up earlier. Barely looking back as he asked where to go, she waved her hand in Lark's general direction, indicating for him to follow her. Whether he chose to or not, it didn't really matter; but Tem did not care to stand around looking like a lost child any longer, and she certainly hadn't the patience for anyone who did. Her strides were brisk and springy, as if she were warming up to dance. In a way, she was. Tempest stopped abruptly, and tapped a fist on the brittle steel door. Larkspur, their boss, that kid upchucking a corndog not five meters away; she waited to see who would take the lead.​

 

[Larkspur Loncar]

Larkspur wasn't quite sure what he had expected this girl to say when he lied to her, especially when her first words to a perfect stranger was "What happened to your face?" She was easily the most tactless person he had ever met, perhaps other than his little sister when she was young. Now, it would be the girl before him who knew nothing about the subtleties of social interaction. He didn't care much but he should have expected her cheeky comment but he hadn't so he gritted his perfect teeth. As he looked at her and saw her smile he stopped before closing his mouth and sliding his tongue over his teeth as he thought of the money wasted on braces for them. He knew he would have much preferred a mess of teeth than working here and wished his nanna had thought for the future or at least considered how selfish Edelweiss was so he could have been left out of her will and the money to the parts of the family who needed it. He shrugged it off and muttered with a roll of his shoulders as if he was some bird ruffling it's feathers, "I'm only bad at lying." Now Larkspur was sort of telling the truth, he had done pretty well in the fight for the person he had picked it with. It was hardly invisible how scrawny he was and how weak he looked but he had definitely packed a good few punches. If he had "picked on someone his own size" he would have done much better but the boy had been a quidditch beater and looked like he was on steroids. But then he likely wouldn't have felt the burning feeling of satisfaction and if he hadn't needed to recover he would have considered making his very own Fight Club at Hogwarts, except without the multiple personality disorder and shooting himself which would hardly solve any of his problems.

Larkspur let out a chortle at Tempest and her response to his introduction. She was interesting and a little annoying but he could tell that his job would be a little more interesting with her around and for a job he already knew was going to be poop that was possibly the only consolation. So with a glance around them he followed her foot steps at a more leisurely pace than she, yawning as he did so, before he stood beside her waiting for the door to open. Through it he could hear heavy set footsteps and a swear only causing him to roll his eyes before the door was opened. The man, their boss, seemed almost surprised to see them there before he said "You two, station 12" and closed the door again.​

 

[Tempest Sun]

When Larkspur replied, Tempest couldn't help but let out a laugh. That little honesty had softened her a tad, she hadn't expected it. "Me too," she admitted, but meant in an entirely different way to him. She was so able to weave stories with the blink of an eye, but that didn't make it a trait Tempest considered good. In fact, it was probably the thing she disliked most about herself, more than anything else. Lies just felt so deceptive, even if they weren't that big a deal. She could think of so many occasions when she'd used her 'acting abilities'; Tempest had lied to get into competitions she was too young for, to get out of her Salem expulsion, even pretended to be a boy to make friends that never really liked her. It just felt like the odds were never in her favour, which was justification of these twistings of truth. Some people just got everything handed to them on a silver platter, respect and admiration by simply flicking their hair. Tempest had to play a part, or at least, that's what it seemed like from the inside looking out. She wondered what everyone else thought of themselves. She wondered what Larkspur thought. Was he lucky, or more like Tempest? Maybe he didn't care, had given up once teenage disillusionment kicked in. She couldn't help hoping his life was good and easy. Besides, it would give her an excuse to hate him.

Tempest raised an eyebrow as she heard the trudging footsteps of what sounded like an overstuffed, grizzly bear of a man. And as the door swung open - nope, they didn't disappoint. As their boss gave instructions and closed the door in their faces, she was poised to say something along the lines of 'And where the f**k is that?' However, she didn't feel it necessary. There was something calming about the place she was, maybe it was the knowledge that she was at work, hoping to earn a bit of money that surely wouldn't be given to an insolent young girl, or it could have been the company. But since when did Tempest Sun give a flying fig what some boy thought of her? Regardless, anyone was better than no one; she could tell this place would be a bore otherwise. After a moment she turned from the door to Larkspur. "I think it's this way. We've walked past one and two, so logic would say the numbers get higher," Tempest decided with a shrug, allowing for Lark to interject if he disagreed. She headed that way now, away from the entrance, a little slower this time to let him walk beside her if he wanted to.​

 

[Larkspur Loncar]

Larkspur hardly cared how uncouth this man one, he simply turned around and walked. It was, as they say, no skin off his back. He came to get money to support his family and get closer to one day being free of such a tremendous responsibility, however horrible it was to call the woman who took he and is siblings into her home after their parents died nothing but a responsibility. The truth was Larkspur couldn't bare to look into her absent eyes any longer and none of his siblings seemed to care about the rate at which she was deteriorating. He always imagined his nanna fighting to the very end because she was the strongest woman he had ever known and looked up to her for that but there was not a trace of whoever she was in her any longer, it was as if he was taking care of a slab of meat that didn't know it was a slab of meat. But until that day Larkspur was stuck walking beside a girl he didn't know nor really cared to. This job was for money and that was all. "Thanks," he muttered sarcastically as Tempest suggested the direction of station twelve as if he could not deduce for himself or that the blow to his eyes had somehow made him loose his intelligence when he was actually a Ravenclaw and knew more than this girl probably would ever dream. But, he thought snidely to himself, You still ended up in the same place.

As the new employees walked Larkspur was silent and numb, just as he would be to get through any other monotonous crap. The only high light of it was this girl with more attitude in her pinky finger than he had a all and thanked the Lord that he wasn't her boyfriend, she seemed the type to order people around and that didn't appeal to his ego very much. The boy glanced at her from the corner of his eyes and although he did recognize her beauty he did find himself slightly annoyed with her like an itch he couldn't scratch. It wasn't long before the pair reached their booth and another pair, a lot older than he and Tempest, jumped over the counter, one absently saying, "Have fun Greenies." Larkspur rolled his eyes before he looked at what this station one and saw bottles lined up on the wall and a basket of baseballs just ready to be thrown at them for the stuffed animals that lined the station for any annoying kid to beg their parents to try until they gave up because all carnival and fair games were rigged so that people spent their money to get nothing in return.​