myownface | An Airbnb in Baltimore, Tuesday Afternoon

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An Airbnb in Baltimore, Tuesday Afternoon

Sparkle had given the island's weirdness one night! One.

One was enough. The message that he'd left for Atton in the wake of that night was dubiously coherent and had been left without a single breath taken between words, and Sparkle could not get off the island fast enough after being caught out after the airhorns sounded, thank you very, very much. Sparkle had put up with years of Fandom horror, but very little could prepare a guy for the things he'd seen, stabbed, and screamed at while trying to make his way to somewhere that didn't involve...

... those.

It was a frazzled, tipsy Sparkle, wielding a tupperware container with a fish in it in one hand and half a bottle of Fireball in the other, who made his way up to the Airbnb that Hernando had booked and who knocked on the door. With his face.

There might have been sobbing involved? Or it could've just been frazzled ranting in between bouts of quiet screeching. It was hard to tell.

Sparkles were not made for Silent Hills.

[OOC: For the one, or for texts and/or phonecalls! NFB for distance!]

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Awwww, butterflies. Buttered butterflies. Sparkle gave the plate a silly little smile as he took it, and then leaned up to kiss Hernando again.

"Thanks, babe," he murmured. "I needed this, I think."

Well. No, he'd definitely needed this. This was breakfast, unless Fireball counted. Which... it probably did not.

"If all you have in your stomach is Fireball, then yes you do," Hernando teased him, stealing another small kiss. "Eat your toasts. I'm going to put things away in the bathroom. I won't close the door."

Thankfully the bathtub and the rest of the stuff to be cleaned wasn't in sight of the door. Collecting the dish soap, he went to see what could be done for Sparkle's clothing and to clean the knives.

The clothes didn't seem too terribly damaged, for all they were stained. Dish soap was applied and left to sit while he took care of the easier to clean items, the knives. Hernando had no clue if you were supposed to use dish soap on knives like these or if there was some specific way to clean them and oil them or whatever, but for now dish soap was what he had and he went to work.

If that was the wrong way to go about it (and it kinda was), Sparkle wasn't really in any position to complain. He'd do maintenance on them when he could run his brain again. Right then, he was just kind of quietly watching whatever part of Hernando was in view at any given moment, picking halfheartedly at his toast.

His head was spinning. He wasn't completely convinced he hadn't lost his mind. But he'd been around the island long enough to know better.

He was sane. It was the island that had gone nuts.

Hernando was making sure that there were steady supplies of booty flashing by the doorway. Sparkle needed the distraction as well as the reminder that Hernando was right there. It maybe had a chance of keeping him from thinking too much just then.

He began rinsing the clothing. A ... disturbing.. amount of blood rinsed out right away. He was surprised but ultimately pleased that the dish soap did a fairly good job of getting at least the color out. After a moment of consideration, he got the peroxide out and splashed it liberally over the clothes and let it fizz for a minute before soaping and scrubbing again. There might be some slight bleaching but that would be better than bloodstains. When he'd finally rinsed them and they were as clean as they were going to get, he wrung them out and tossed them over the shower door frame.

Then, silly as it seemed, he went and scrubbed his hands at the sink all the way up to his elbows. A second trip through the main area saw more tank water added to Milady's tupperware. Padding over to the bed, he crawled up and kissed Sparkle's temple. "Eat your toasts, baby."

"Eatin' my toasts," Sparkle murmured. "Gonna eat so many toasts. They're cute. You made 'em butterflies."

He appreciated that, a silly little gesture, clearly meant as a personal one, at that.

"... Babe," he said, after a few moments, "what's all that?"

Nodding to the aquarium setup, yes.

"I made them butterflies," Hernando agreed, kissing his head again. He looked at the aquarium setup and bit his lip sheepishly. "Um. I didn't know what size to get. They said he'd be fine in a bowl but you asked for a filter so I needed a tank with a filter. The one and two-point-five gallons looked very small and ten seemed a little big maybe for just the one fish, so I got the size between? Is it big enough? Should I have gotten the ten?"

He frowned a little and mumbled, "I should have gotten the ten."

"The five's plenty," Sparkle replied, biting the inside of his cheek for a moment, amused. "Milady will appreciate all the space. Bettas don't need too much, they're kinda territorial, but this is nice. Maybe I can get him a tankmate or two."

Something that wouldn't take an interest in pretty drapery.

"Are you sure?" Hernando asked with a frown, "If it's too small we could use it as the baby tank and get Milady a bigger travel tank. The water should be safe. I bought it at the pet store so it had already been dechlorinated and everything. I didn't want to risk trying to treat it and there was no time to cycle it properly."

Yup. Worried about the betta.

Well, in fairness, it was A) Sparkle's pet and B) A very fancy betta.

So far as bettas went.

"... Oh my god babe," Sparkle said, and now his shoulders were shaking a little. Given his smile, that was presumably with the effort it took to keep from laughing.

And C) Hernando.

"What?" he asked and then poked Sparkle gently in the side, "You're laughing. Why are you laughing? What did I do that is so funny?"

"You're spoiling the crap out of my fish," Sparkle informed him. "He's a betta. He spends half his time in the same spot and the other half of the time he's blowing bubbles, he'll be thrilled with this tank, I swear. Inch of fish, remember? The two and a half gallon would've been fine."

"He's bigger than an inch," Hernando protested, "He's like three or four inches!" With the fins, yes. He made a small grumpy noise and left a tiny punishment peck of a kiss on Sparkle's head. "At least he will like it. I also got him treats, they're in the freezer." Frozen bloodworms, mmmm.

"Eat. Your. Toast," he demanded, punctuating the words with more little pecks.

Sparkle blinked at that.

"Oh my god, fish treats."

Fish. TREATS. Sparkle wasn't going to point out that Milady probably wouldn't care either way.

"For," he said, smiling faintly as he picked up one of the pieces with peanut butter and cheese on it, "when he's being a very good fish?"

"Or when he learns tricks," Hernando said slyly, "I found a basketball hoop and ball. It's in the tank."

"I think," Sparkle said, bemused but maybe the tiniest bit delighted, "you might be overestimating the athleticism of my fish."

"Possibly but we won't know until he has a chance to check it out and even if he doesn't wish to play, it is something for him to look at," Hernando shrugged, "He is on vacation too, he should have a nice view."

"I mean, I guess if I had a view of the basketball court I'd have a good time too," Sparkle mused. He was making good time on that toast, now, taking full advantage of this distraction. "Depending on who's playing."

"There are definitely plentiful toned asses for him to watch if that is his thing," Hernando agreed, "The room is not all that big." And.. yeah, he was absolutely sort of waggling his ass in Milady's tank's direction. Shut up, the fish was still in tupperware anyway.

Okay, you know what? Mouthful of toast or no, Sparkle absolutely needed to take a moment to blow a wolf-whistle and applaud, right there. Because really, now. Milady might not care, but this was a great distraction, as it so happened, and he reserved the right to enjoy the show.

Hernando had a proper amount of pride. It was, after all, a pretty great ass. He laughed a little and kissed Sparkle's shoulder. The distraction was working. Sparkle was clearing that toast like a champ. It would help to have something in his stomach.

And then, because he was being very silly, he rolled over and waggled his butt again.

At Sparkle.

And Sparkle was going to resist, barely, the urge to reach out and swat that butt.

"Dinner and a show," he said, instead. "Babe, you're spoiling me rotten."

"I like spoiling you," Hernando said, turning around before he got a buttery handprint on his ass. Because he knew Sparkle. "I made you toast with peanut butter and cheese." Beat. "So how was it?"

He wasn't certain Sparkle had even tasted it. Didn't matter, it was a thing to talk about that'd keep him distracted.

"It," Sparkle shared, "is great."

He really hadn't tasted it. But his mouth hadn't immediately rebelled on him, and so he ate another bite just for show.

...

"Actually, no really, it is pretty good."

"Baby," Hernando said, bonking his forehead on Sparkle's shoulder, "Well. At least it is edible." Speaking of.. he rolled and gave another good view of that ass while he dug in the small travel bag near the side of the bed. When he rolled back, he handed Sparkle a plastic medicine bottle. It looked no different than the kind aspirin would come in.

It did not, however, contain aspirin and the label did not claim it to be. Hernando had no idea what the percentages meant but Sparkle might know.

Sparkle did, in fact, know! He was actually humming a little as he took the bottle, a piece of toast now hanging from his mouth as he looked it over. Negligible CBD, that was fine, this was recreational, not medical. It was that other number Sparkle was looking for, that THC. And his eyebrows actually quirked up a little as he read the percentage on the bottle. Nearly twenty with heat?

"Oh," he said, chewing and swallowing that bite of toast and humming, "Dani wanted you to have a nice evening or ten."

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