[ Alberto's laughing delightedly at that reaction. Exactly according to plan... Should he tell the truth?
...Nah, he's gonna keep going with it. It's funny. There's a delay, before he sends a photo this time. He's already gone ahead with the meal, but might as well give Carlo the credit for gits and shiggles. It may look like he's seasoning the sauce, but Alberto absolutely just baited and teased his familiar until it reached its arm out.
This cat is the most patient familiar in Avalon. ]
Uhh, I dunno! For me, it's like the easiest thing ever — I'm even better at swimming than I am at walking, hah! [ Who the fuck brags about walking, um ]
But uh— humans... aren't the best swimmers...? What do you know about Boss Monsters swimming? Maybe you're a natural born swimmer and never even knew it!
[ Alberto... has never seen a goat... except for Asriel, and Chara's unnamed familiar via video. The hell does he know? ]
( There's a lengthy pause then as Asriel registers those words. Humans aren't the best swimmers.... It's something that sounds rather peculiar for a human child to say -- unless, well-- )
... Alberto, you aren't human?
( Maybe it's a silly question to ask, considering that he definitely looks human, but people come in all sorts of shapes and sizes. )
[ Alberto just grins at that, and does not answer... ]
C'mon—! So you wanna go swimming or what~? I mean, we're both already awake, right? Aaand there's probably no one out there right now — so if you suck at it, no one will know!
[ Well, that's. Still not an answer. But he seems smitten about the idea anyway? Late-night dip in the lake?
This is why kids are supposed to have bedtimes... ]
[Ochako smiles back at Asriel - she never really knows what to do when someone calls her kind, of compliments her in general. Ochako sort of has a big mouth sometimes, saying what's on her mind, or being a little too forward and blunt. Honestly? She can be a little rude without meaning to, but her heart is in the right place when it comes to really helping people, like he said. Ochako just...really, really likes when people around her are happy and smiling. And she wants to protect that.
As the buzzer sounds again, a second call for the tournament attendees, Ochako nods her head and giggles.]
Mmh, seems like it, so I should probably get going to the arena hall. You'll watch for me, right? Ehehe, I hope I can count on you cheering me on, Asriel-kun!!
[She holds out a balled fist to her tiny, fuzzy friend. Fist bump of good luck?]
( Asriel doesn't fail to notice that Alberto sort... dodges his question, which more or less confirms that he isn't, but Asriel's not about to make any sort of assumptions as to what Alberto might be.
There's hesitance to reply, because Asriel's never swam before. Sure, no one else might be there, but he's probably going to look pretty silly to Alberto... )
Yeah. I’ll bring Carlo — you bring Almond. They won’t swim with us, but, y’know— just in case. Ciao~
[ In case of what?!? But he’s not elaborating, just giving that signature lazy smile as he signs off and heads out. Having a new friend — a new monster friend — who’s willing to match Alberto’s spontaneity is beyond exciting. Late night swimming lessons on the fly? Exactly on brand for this reckless young sea monster! ]
One of my best friends was able to help everyone, even though they didn't really have a lot of power... so, that's why I think that with the right amount of determination -- you'll be able to do more than you think.
( At this point, fighting is something that makes Asriel a bit nervous, but he also knows that this is just for fun. No one's going to seriously end up hurt - and, if they do, then he's sure that there are healers nearby who can help them.
He blinks a bit at the fist before raising his own, bumping his fist against hers. )
Good luck, Ochako! I'll be right here when you're done!
( In case of what indeed. The call ends before Asriel can ask, and all he can do is make his way to the beach. Almond follows closely behind, making sounds of complaints. Looks like not everyone wants to go to the beach late at night...
Asriel finds that it doesn't take him too long to get there. With as long as he's been there, he's been getting better at memorizing where most places are. )
[ Alberto doesn't take long, himself. He was already dressed, having just barely started winding down for the night — which, uh, apparently was but a momentary blip. He's up and at 'em in an instant, much to Carlo's chagrin as well. He'll show up carrying the annoyed, sleepy cat in his arms, cradled like a cranky baby. Alberto's in his clothes from home, still not having invested much money interest in acquiring more human clothing, and barefoot as always.
But for whatever time of night it is, he looks bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, ready for his debut~ He's already highly amused planning this big reveal, having sort of, uh, entirely forgotten to mention to Asriel that he's not human. Whoops... But that said, it just makes this midnight rendezvous even funnier to him — and even more exciting. He can only hope the fellow monster will be as happy as he is to have another monster friend, even if they're obviously two completely different kinds of creatures... As he's on his way, it makes him wonder what Asriel would look like if he made the Change like sea monsters do — what would he look like if he looked like a human? Or! Or?! What if Asriel does make the Change, but backwards, and maybe since he's never tried to swim, he'll turn into some fishy sea monster, too, once they get in the water?! That'd be hilarious! Alberto's imagination is his best asset and it entertains him on his way... He has half a mind to draw a picture of these versions of Asriel, even if he knows it's a total flight of fantasy — it's just funny to think about, c'mon~
When he sees the other boy, who's arrived before him, he drops Carlo unceremoniously — thank goodness the cat can fly, so it just flounders as it falls then hovers in midair, glaring at the boy. Alberto waves and calls out, grinning with a warm, half-lidded gaze. ]
Hehe-heyyy~! Asriel!
[ He struts up, quickening his pace a bit, and claps a hand to the boy's shoulder friendlily. Carlo floats along behind him, looking grumpy. Alberto smiles warmly at Asriel, meeting his eye directly for a good beat, but his gaze finds Almond on the ground, and he nods acknowledgment at the armadillo. ]
Almond. Ciao~
[ He says with some emphasis, silly and endeared as he so often is. He lets go of Asriel's shoulder, placing his hands on his own hips and puffing his chest out cockily, standing contraposto comfortably. He gestures over the cliffs toward the shores with his chin, smirking widely with fond eyes. ]
[ There's almost venom in his voice, um?!?! Asriel's never had pasta?! That, uh, needs to be corrected... He drops a pin wow technology, he figured that one out on his own to the inn and texts his room number along with it, with some clear directions straight to it. ]
You're coming over for dinner, like, now. Hope you're hungry.
( Being friends with Alberto definitely meant being spontaneous. But... he can't help but think that that was just fine. It sort of kept things exciting, didn't it? )
[ Alberto doesn't bother responding, just smirks at his phone and sets it back on the kitchen counter, continuing to cook without pretense. After a moment, though, he does text Asriel one final note: ]
doors unlocked
[ Let yourself in, that is to say. There's an immediate homeyness about the space, Alberto clearly comfortable in creating his own element, the smells of pasta, marinara, chicken and cheese wafting through the air heavily, mixing with the sounds of Italian pop music drifting through the air with it. The boy is still involved in his handiwork in the kitchenette when Asriel walks in, although he doesn't realize he's not alone anymore for being so into his own silly theatrics, entertaining himself while cooking by singing and dancing. Still, very relaxed, very welcoming, regardless. And the scene Asriel will walk in on is quite relaxed, welcoming, and homey, indeed — albeit perhaps, um, odd and overwhelming, too...
It's nothing compared tohis hideoutback home, though very much in the same style somehow, but even without that mess he called home for reference, the visual impact still loses nothing. Alberto's been busy rebuilding his "collection," slowly but surely, ever since he's arrived. Alberto has amassed a lot of— well, junk, to be frank; but one man's trash is another man's treasure, as long as he does something cool with it. He felt too uncomfortable in the empty space the inn room was when he first arrived, especially considering it's all one room, kitchenette, bedroom, living room, office, all in one. He's made the space his own, that's for sure. Alberto's the furthest from minimalist — he's a maximalist. He's used to being alone, but, man, gotta fill the void somehow... Excess makes him feel at ease — and reminds him of his old safe space back home.
He did at least arrive here with his Vespa poster, which is hung proudly above his bed, right in the line of sight. On the wall his bed is pushed along, he has a taped togetherdrawing pinned to the wall, clearly important to him just by how it hangs alone right above his pillow. But apart from that, the rest of the wall has multiple rows of twine pinned up, with a couple dozen rectangular Polaroid photographs he's taken since coming here hung up by paperclips and bobby-pins and clothespins. All sorts of subjects are present, if one looks closely, no rhyme or rhythm to what he decides to photograph. A brown plaid flat cap hangs on hist bedpost; his bedspread is a simple red quilt (the bed messily made, but made nonetheless). There are white fairy lights strung up like a sparkling canopy above the bed, and several strings of colorful ones crawling down the back wall like rainbow twinkling vines.
Alberto's hung an old fishing net over the top half of the only window in the room, the central focus point upon entering, through which he's strung all kinds of random trinkets he's found around town, even cascades of tiny crystalshanging from a tree branch he shoved up on top of the armoire beside it, all refracting the colorful Christmas lights in subtle little rainbows all over the room, dancing in the corner of the eye. A big pair of binoculars hangs on a bent wire clothes hanger he nailed up upside down beside the window, using it like a hook. An intricate and delicate looking antique alchemy set is perched precariously all along the windowsill, sheerly for lack of room elsewhere; he doesn't even know what it is, he just thought it was pretty, so stole took it. He doesn't even have alchemy magic! It's not the best place for fragile magical artifacts, though... The windowsill is also adorned with various lengths of colorful ribbons hanging off it, with little bells and feathers and crumpled up balls of tinfoil tied onto their ends — homemade cat toys. There's even a string of many little bells hanging from the bathroom door knob, the door kept closed (as he seldom makes much use of it, the only undecorated area)... A frayed, very worn, woven circular rainbow rug brings each corner of the room visually together in the center.
There are several large dark green glass bottles strewn about all parts of the room, all empty olive oil bottles, lending some cohesion as well; a couple do have some wildflowers he's picked shoved in them, but most are left empty. One jar has a fair collection of magic wands sticking out of it, all of them also "taken" shortly after his arrival, but again just because he thought they were cool-looking sticks — he still has no clue what they do, even after so many weeks here... He found an old chaise longue at a flea market which he'd shoved against the wall in the corner of the room beside the window. Eventually expecting guests, y'know! Randomly a bent, rusty bicycle wheel is propped up against the sofa's side, some drawings and scraps of paper clipped to its spokes with clothespins, like it's some decorative bulletin board... Hanging above the couch in the corner, there are jars tied up with woven twine, some filled with random pieces of sea glass, seashells, acorns, cool rocks and little gemstones, all clearly ongoing collections. There's at least a somewhat empty space in front of the seat, though, keeping room at the foot of the next wall, because much of it is taken up by a wide roll of brown butcher paper he hung up on a curtain rod to draw a never-ending mural on, its present page half-filled with crazy-looking doodles of cats and self-portraits and Vespas and who knows what else. There's an open antique hard suitcase on the floor below it all but overflowing with crayons, markers and colored pencils in every imaginable color.
Just next to it, his desk is actually surprisingly neat — well, comparatively to, uh, everything else. It's kept functional. There's a rusty kerosene lantern on it, flame dancing in it presently, but most of the desk is clear except for some stray sketches, beside scattered leftover curly wood shavings and a whittling knife, a half-cut wood block, shape indistinct, and a few little figurines lined up along the back of the desktop, all of which Alberto's ostensibly carved himself: a tiny Vespa, a little rowboat complete with little oars, a— m-miniature wooden fork...? All alongside an old cup of espresso, left out half-empty and forgotten. Alberto's Polaroid camera sits in the center, open and unfolded out of its black leather case, which is tucked away carefully behind it, with a freshly opened pack of film next to it along with a few scattered empty black film casings, a couple still with new photos inside developing. The wooden desk chair has a bed pillow tied to its back with rope and a folded up green fleece blanket on the seat, makeshift cushions. Sticking out of the open drawers of the desk are a bunch of random tools — saws, hammers, screwdrivers, wrenches, knives, an axe, spatulas? Definitely some kitchenware mixed in there...
The kitchenette, though, is actually the only part of the room that looks comparatively functional and sensible, although it too is crowded and cluttered. Hanging on the walls are a string of garlic bulbs, a string of peperoncini, a couple tied-up bundles of indistinct green herbs left out to dry, pinned up along with a metal ladle, a metal spaghetti spoon, a mezzaluna and a few other various types of large knives, plus a copper colander. On the countertop there are a few glass canisters filled with dry pasta and small jars of various spices, a cheese grater, and a large wooden cutting board still with some stray garlic bits left on it, as well as a mortar and pestle, also freshly used. A tarnished silver stovetop espresso maker sits out hot and ready, fresh espresso in the making already, beside a stack of little white espresso cups and tins of coffee to match, one cup already prepared and halfway done, Alberto sipping along as he cooks dinner because why not, child with unregulated caffeine intake now for some extra pep. There's also a bowl of tangerines and lemons, a basket of ripe tomatoes, a big, dark green glass bottle of what can only be assumed to be olive oil, and a long loaf of bread with little bits torn off the end from spontaneous snacking. There is a small stack of dirty dishes left in the sink. Unsurprisingly, the fridge, too, has a bunch of photographs and drawings hung up by colorful alphabet magnets, spelling silly things like "FORZA," "ALBERTO," "VESPA," "MIAO! CIAO!" — y'know, key 'Alberto'-y words; and though he has to climb up to stand on the countertop to reach it, he even has a big glass jar on top of the fridge with more back-up letter magnets in it. It's a thoroughly well-stocked kitchen, obviously. A rather nice kitchen scene for an independent fourteen-year-old child, though, really.
On the stovetop sits the same pot of marinara sauce Alberto had shown in the picture, but Carlo's apparently left his position as sous-chef. The cat is eating from a bowl on the floor now, which Alberto has painted ᑕꪖᖇᒪօ on in his chicken-scratch handwriting. Looks like the cat is eating... raw chicken? Something pink and meaty. Another pot is sitting on the stovetop now, too, full of capellini boiling. As Asriel enters, he'll catch Alberto dancing and singing by himself along with the music as he stirs the pot of pasta with a toothed pasta spoon. There's a lot of hip-shaking and shoulder-shrugging along to the beat, complete disregard to whether Asriel may have entered or not, unawares with the loud music blaring from his phone at full volume. Asriel can see him lift the empty pasta spoon from the pot just to mime using it like a microphone, tapping his foot along in time, before shifting to point it intensely at the munching cat on the ground at the "ooooh~" ...which barely catches Carlo's attention, before it goes back to eating, and Alberto shifts poses to stick his arm straight out in the air the other way, dramatically pointing the spoon this way and that to end the chorus as he sings along in his native Italian, easily understood by Asriel due to the linguistic magic of Avalon... for better or worse. ]
Se guardo te, io sono bugiarda! (If I look at you, I am a liar!) L'amore c'è, è dentro di me! (Love is there, it’s inside me!) Amo te~! (It’s you that I love!) Oooooh~! [ He points to the cat with such gusto at this note... Carlo is surely the most patient familiar in all of Avalon. Just this blip of a moment proves it. ] Sono bugiarda, bugiarda, lo so~ (I am a liar, a liar, I know~)
[ Alberto's not a bad singer, but uh, he's not exactly trying to sing well, either. He's just having fun. Somehow it's not surprising at all that he's making his own fun while cooking with his cat even when he's alone like this (or so he thinks). ...The fact that he's drinking espresso at night also helps this, though, of course. ]
( It's partly curiosity that has Asriel coming to the beach at this time of night. Though, if someone were to ask, he'd admit that he didn't want to pass up the chance to spend time with Alberto. Being with him was always unpredictable, but fun. He was also so carefree that it was difficult to think of the things that were bothering him. Asriel was someone often plagued with guilt and loneliness because of his past -- and so, there was a part of him that selfishly wanted to forget that and indulge in the childhood he never really got to enjoy to the fullest.
He runs forward when he spots Alberto nearing the beach, meeting him halfway. He hasn't been waiting long at all. It looks like the both of them shared enthusiasm to meet with one another. )
Good evening, Alberto! ( He greets happily. )
I'm ready! ( He pauses for a moment. ) ... Uhm, was there something else you wanted to do while we were here, though?
( Alberto was... a little vague. Not to mention, he had definitely dodged some of his questions. )
[ He doesn't wait a second to respond, that smirk turning to a wide, mischievous grin. And without even a hint of hesitation, he readies himself, then takes off running without warning, right toward the edge of the cliff, and shouts with gusto...: ]
Andiamooooo~!
[ ...and leaps straight off and over the edge in a bold dash, light laughter laced through the fresh night air mid-jump. This is your crazy new friend, Asriel. Here to give you a heart attack. Sorry about it.
But there's no screaming, no splat, no damage. In fact, there's an unnerving, loud, gravelly sound like rocks moving, and a slight shake in the ground, as the hand of the Cliff Beast extends and catches the boy as he falls. Alberto's lucky it does, because for as much as he puts the poor Cliff Beast to work for fun ever since his very first day, playing this stupid game by himself, he actually has never done it at night, and really has no idea if the Cliff Beast sleeps or not?! Whether or not it does, at least it's awake now to save his brazen little butt.
Once he's caught, Asriel can find him sprawled out in the palm of the Cliff Beast's massive hand, laughing in sheer delight. ]
Ahaha~! Woohooooo! Yeah-hahah!
[ He thrusts his hands up in the air triumphantly, letting out a huge sigh of relief, then scrambles to his feet, standing with his legs wide apart, feeling his oats now. He waves both his arms back and forth widely, coaxing the other boy down with his brightest grin yet, eyes alight with chaos charm. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
text;
Date: 2021-10-11 06:28 am (UTC)...Nah, he's gonna keep going with it. It's funny. There's a delay, before he sends a photo this time. He's already gone ahead with the meal, but might as well give Carlo the credit for gits and shiggles. It may look like he's seasoning the sauce, but Alberto absolutely just baited and teased his familiar until it reached its arm out.
This cat is the most patient familiar in Avalon. ]
no subject
Date: 2021-10-11 08:03 pm (UTC)But uh— humans... aren't the best swimmers...? What do you know about Boss Monsters swimming? Maybe you're a natural born swimmer and never even knew it!
[ Alberto... has never seen a goat... except for Asriel, and Chara's unnamed familiar via video. The hell does he know? ]
no subject
Date: 2021-10-11 09:33 pm (UTC)... Alberto, you aren't human?
( Maybe it's a silly question to ask, considering that he definitely looks human, but people come in all sorts of shapes and sizes. )
no subject
Date: 2021-10-11 10:21 pm (UTC)C'mon—! So you wanna go swimming or what~? I mean, we're both already awake, right? Aaand there's probably no one out there right now — so if you suck at it, no one will know!
[ Well, that's. Still not an answer. But he seems smitten about the idea anyway? Late-night dip in the lake?
This is why kids are supposed to have bedtimes... ]
wrapping soon?
Date: 2021-10-12 06:20 pm (UTC)As the buzzer sounds again, a second call for the tournament attendees, Ochako nods her head and giggles.]
Mmh, seems like it, so I should probably get going to the arena hall. You'll watch for me, right? Ehehe, I hope I can count on you cheering me on, Asriel-kun!!
[She holds out a balled fist to her tiny, fuzzy friend. Fist bump of good luck?]
no subject
Date: 2021-10-13 12:17 am (UTC)[It won't be as easy as she thinks, but she'll do it.]
no subject
Date: 2021-10-13 05:58 am (UTC)There's hesitance to reply, because Asriel's never swam before. Sure, no one else might be there, but he's probably going to look pretty silly to Alberto... )
O-Okay...! I'll try really hard to learn.
Do you wanna meet at the beach?
no subject
Date: 2021-10-13 04:50 pm (UTC)[ In case of what?!? But he’s not elaborating, just giving that signature lazy smile as he signs off and heads out. Having a new friend — a new monster friend — who’s willing to match Alberto’s spontaneity is beyond exciting. Late night swimming lessons on the fly? Exactly on brand for this reckless young sea monster! ]
video;
Date: 2021-10-14 02:05 am (UTC)I didn't know you had such a talented familiar... I wonder if I could teach Almond, too.
( The armadillo responds with a displeased sound at that, as if already responding with a no. )
no subject
Date: 2021-10-14 02:18 am (UTC)[ Actually, he is. He knows how to cook, well, very few things, but he can cook them well. He was taught well — at least for a short time. ]
voice; un: smoking_bomb
Date: 2021-10-14 06:17 pm (UTC)[He says the name like a greeting, nothing scolding. Gokudera is excited about this topic, so he sounds far far faaaar from bored.]
Alberto tells me that you and him are playing with fireworks. Can you tell me about what they're like? And...
What are you doing to stay safe?
voice; un: starblazing
Date: 2021-10-14 08:17 pm (UTC)( He instantly can't help but wonder what he contacted for, especially when he sounds as excited as he does. However, he stops at the question. )
O-Oh... We combine our magic together! I've been using my fire magic, and he uses his light magic to do the rest.
But - uhm - don't worry. I can make my fire disappear really quickly if I need to.
no subject
Date: 2021-10-14 08:43 pm (UTC)I can help.
no subject
Date: 2021-10-14 08:46 pm (UTC)One of my best friends was able to help everyone, even though they didn't really have a lot of power... so, that's why I think that with the right amount of determination -- you'll be able to do more than you think.
we can wrap it here!
Date: 2021-10-14 11:48 pm (UTC)He blinks a bit at the fist before raising his own, bumping his fist against hers. )
Good luck, Ochako! I'll be right here when you're done!
I know you'll do great.
no subject
Date: 2021-10-14 11:58 pm (UTC)Asriel finds that it doesn't take him too long to get there. With as long as he's been there, he's been getting better at memorizing where most places are. )
action;
Date: 2021-10-15 01:35 am (UTC)moneyinterest in acquiring more human clothing, and barefoot as always.But for whatever time of night it is, he looks bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, ready for his debut~ He's already highly amused planning this big reveal, having sort of, uh, entirely forgotten to mention to Asriel that he's not human. Whoops... But that said, it just makes this midnight rendezvous even funnier to him — and even more exciting. He can only hope the fellow monster will be as happy as he is to have another monster friend, even if they're obviously two completely different kinds of creatures... As he's on his way, it makes him wonder what Asriel would look like if he made the Change like sea monsters do — what would he look like if he looked like a human? Or! Or?! What if Asriel does make the Change, but backwards, and maybe since he's never tried to swim, he'll turn into some fishy sea monster, too, once they get in the water?! That'd be hilarious! Alberto's imagination is his best asset and it entertains him on his way... He has half a mind to draw a picture of these versions of Asriel, even if he knows it's a total flight of fantasy — it's just funny to think about, c'mon~
When he sees the other boy, who's arrived before him, he drops Carlo unceremoniously — thank goodness the cat can fly, so it just flounders as it falls then hovers in midair, glaring at the boy. Alberto waves and calls out, grinning with a warm, half-lidded gaze. ]
Hehe-heyyy~! Asriel!
[ He struts up, quickening his pace a bit, and claps a hand to the boy's shoulder friendlily. Carlo floats along behind him, looking grumpy. Alberto smiles warmly at Asriel, meeting his eye directly for a good beat, but his gaze finds Almond on the ground, and he nods acknowledgment at the armadillo. ]
Almond. Ciao~
[ He says with some emphasis, silly and endeared as he so often is. He lets go of Asriel's shoulder, placing his hands on his own hips and puffing his chest out cockily, standing contraposto comfortably. He gestures over the cliffs toward the shores with his chin, smirking widely with fond eyes. ]
Soooo... You ready~?
no subject
Date: 2021-10-15 01:44 am (UTC)( Look, his mom mostly used snails for cooking. )
no subject
Date: 2021-10-15 02:00 am (UTC)[ There's almost venom in his voice, um?!?! Asriel's never had pasta?! That, uh, needs to be corrected... He drops a pin
wow technology, he figured that one out on his ownto the inn and texts his room number along with it, with some clear directions straight to it. ]You're coming over for dinner, like, now. Hope you're hungry.
no subject
Date: 2021-10-16 03:35 am (UTC)( Being friends with Alberto definitely meant being spontaneous. But... he can't help but think that that was just fine. It sort of kept things exciting, didn't it? )
I'll be there soon, Alberto!
no subject
Date: 2021-10-16 03:57 am (UTC)( It almost sounds as if... )
Did you want to make real fireworks?
no subject
Date: 2021-10-16 04:02 am (UTC)We need to find a wide open space, not too many trees. I don't want to hurt anything, and it's gong to be very loud, so it can't be close to the city.
action; a novella
Date: 2021-10-16 07:05 am (UTC)doors unlocked
[ Let yourself in, that is to say. There's an immediate homeyness about the space, Alberto clearly comfortable in creating his own element, the smells of pasta, marinara, chicken and cheese wafting through the air heavily, mixing with the sounds of Italian pop music drifting through the air with it. The boy is still involved in his handiwork in the kitchenette when Asriel walks in, although he doesn't realize he's not alone anymore for being so into his own silly theatrics, entertaining himself while cooking by singing and dancing. Still, very relaxed, very welcoming, regardless. And the scene Asriel will walk in on is quite relaxed, welcoming, and homey, indeed — albeit perhaps, um, odd and overwhelming, too...
It's nothing compared to his hideout back home, though very much in the same style somehow, but even without that mess he called home for reference, the visual impact still loses nothing. Alberto's been busy rebuilding his "collection," slowly but surely, ever since he's arrived. Alberto has amassed a lot of— well, junk, to be frank; but one man's trash is another man's treasure, as long as he does something cool with it. He felt too uncomfortable in the empty space the inn room was when he first arrived, especially considering it's all one room, kitchenette, bedroom, living room, office, all in one. He's made the space his own, that's for sure. Alberto's the furthest from minimalist — he's a maximalist. He's used to being alone, but, man, gotta fill the void somehow... Excess makes him feel at ease — and reminds him of his old safe space back home.
He did at least arrive here with his Vespa poster, which is hung proudly above his bed, right in the line of sight. On the wall his bed is pushed along, he has a taped together drawing pinned to the wall, clearly important to him just by how it hangs alone right above his pillow. But apart from that, the rest of the wall has multiple rows of twine pinned up, with a couple dozen rectangular Polaroid photographs he's taken since coming here hung up by paperclips and bobby-pins and clothespins. All sorts of subjects are present, if one looks closely, no rhyme or rhythm to what he decides to photograph. A brown plaid flat cap hangs on hist bedpost; his bedspread is a simple red quilt (the bed messily made, but made nonetheless). There are white fairy lights strung up like a sparkling canopy above the bed, and several strings of colorful ones crawling down the back wall like rainbow twinkling vines.
Alberto's hung an old fishing net over the top half of the only window in the room, the central focus point upon entering, through which he's strung all kinds of random trinkets he's found around town, even cascades of tiny crystals hanging from a tree branch he shoved up on top of the armoire beside it, all refracting the colorful Christmas lights in subtle little rainbows all over the room, dancing in the corner of the eye. A big pair of binoculars hangs on a bent wire clothes hanger he nailed up upside down beside the window, using it like a hook. An intricate and delicate looking antique alchemy set is perched precariously all along the windowsill, sheerly for lack of room elsewhere; he doesn't even know what it is, he just thought it was pretty, so
stoletook it. He doesn't even have alchemy magic! It's not the best place for fragile magical artifacts, though... The windowsill is also adorned with various lengths of colorful ribbons hanging off it, with little bells and feathers and crumpled up balls of tinfoil tied onto their ends — homemade cat toys. There's even a string of many little bells hanging from the bathroom door knob, the door kept closed (as he seldom makes much use of it, the only undecorated area)... A frayed, very worn, woven circular rainbow rug brings each corner of the room visually together in the center.There are several large dark green glass bottles strewn about all parts of the room, all empty olive oil bottles, lending some cohesion as well; a couple do have some wildflowers he's picked shoved in them, but most are left empty. One jar has a fair collection of magic wands sticking out of it, all of them also "taken" shortly after his arrival, but again just because he thought they were cool-looking sticks — he still has no clue what they do, even after so many weeks here... He found an old chaise longue at a flea market which he'd shoved against the wall in the corner of the room beside the window. Eventually expecting guests, y'know! Randomly a bent, rusty bicycle wheel is propped up against the sofa's side, some drawings and scraps of paper clipped to its spokes with clothespins, like it's some decorative bulletin board... Hanging above the couch in the corner, there are jars tied up with woven twine, some filled with random pieces of sea glass, seashells, acorns, cool rocks and little gemstones, all clearly ongoing collections. There's at least a somewhat empty space in front of the seat, though, keeping room at the foot of the next wall, because much of it is taken up by a wide roll of brown butcher paper he hung up on a curtain rod to draw a never-ending mural on, its present page half-filled with crazy-looking doodles of cats and self-portraits and Vespas and who knows what else. There's an open antique hard suitcase on the floor below it all but overflowing with crayons, markers and colored pencils in every imaginable color.
Just next to it, his desk is actually surprisingly neat — well, comparatively to, uh, everything else. It's kept functional. There's a rusty kerosene lantern on it, flame dancing in it presently, but most of the desk is clear except for some stray sketches, beside scattered leftover curly wood shavings and a whittling knife, a half-cut wood block, shape indistinct, and a few little figurines lined up along the back of the desktop, all of which Alberto's ostensibly carved himself: a tiny Vespa, a little rowboat complete with little oars, a— m-miniature wooden fork...? All alongside an old cup of espresso, left out half-empty and forgotten. Alberto's Polaroid camera sits in the center, open and unfolded out of its black leather case, which is tucked away carefully behind it, with a freshly opened pack of film next to it along with a few scattered empty black film casings, a couple still with new photos inside developing. The wooden desk chair has a bed pillow tied to its back with rope and a folded up green fleece blanket on the seat, makeshift cushions. Sticking out of the open drawers of the desk are a bunch of random tools — saws, hammers, screwdrivers, wrenches, knives, an axe, spatulas? Definitely some kitchenware mixed in there...
The kitchenette, though, is actually the only part of the room that looks comparatively functional and sensible, although it too is crowded and cluttered. Hanging on the walls are a string of garlic bulbs, a string of peperoncini, a couple tied-up bundles of indistinct green herbs left out to dry, pinned up along with a metal ladle, a metal spaghetti spoon, a mezzaluna and a few other various types of large knives, plus a copper colander. On the countertop there are a few glass canisters filled with dry pasta and small jars of various spices, a cheese grater, and a large wooden cutting board still with some stray garlic bits left on it, as well as a mortar and pestle, also freshly used. A tarnished silver stovetop espresso maker sits out hot and ready, fresh espresso in the making already, beside a stack of little white espresso cups and tins of coffee to match, one cup already prepared and halfway done, Alberto sipping along as he cooks dinner
because why not, child with unregulated caffeine intake nowfor some extra pep. There's also a bowl of tangerines and lemons, a basket of ripe tomatoes, a big, dark green glass bottle of what can only be assumed to be olive oil, and a long loaf of bread with little bits torn off the end from spontaneous snacking. There is a small stack of dirty dishes left in the sink. Unsurprisingly, the fridge, too, has a bunch of photographs and drawings hung up by colorful alphabet magnets, spelling silly things like "FORZA," "ALBERTO," "VESPA," "MIAO! CIAO!" — y'know, key 'Alberto'-y words; and though he has to climb up to stand on the countertop to reach it, he even has a big glass jar on top of the fridge with more back-up letter magnets in it. It's a thoroughly well-stocked kitchen, obviously. A rather nice kitchen scene for an independent fourteen-year-old child, though, really.On the stovetop sits the same pot of marinara sauce Alberto had shown in the picture, but Carlo's apparently left his position as sous-chef. The cat is eating from a bowl on the floor now, which Alberto has painted ᑕꪖᖇᒪօ on in his chicken-scratch handwriting. Looks like the cat is eating... raw chicken? Something pink and meaty. Another pot is sitting on the stovetop now, too, full of capellini boiling. As Asriel enters, he'll catch Alberto dancing and singing by himself along with the music as he stirs the pot of pasta with a toothed pasta spoon. There's a lot of hip-shaking and shoulder-shrugging along to the beat, complete disregard to whether Asriel may have entered or not, unawares with the loud music blaring from his phone at full volume. Asriel can see him lift the empty pasta spoon from the pot just to mime using it like a microphone, tapping his foot along in time, before shifting to point it intensely at the munching cat on the ground at the "ooooh~" ...which barely catches Carlo's attention, before it goes back to eating, and Alberto shifts poses to stick his arm straight out in the air the other way, dramatically pointing the spoon this way and that to end the chorus as he sings along in his native Italian, easily understood by Asriel due to the linguistic magic of Avalon... for better or worse. ]
Se guardo te, io sono bugiarda! (If I look at you, I am a liar!)
L'amore c'è, è dentro di me! (Love is there, it’s inside me!)
Amo te~! (It’s you that I love!)
Oooooh~! [ He points to the cat with such gusto at this note... Carlo is surely the most patient familiar in all of Avalon. Just this blip of a moment proves it. ]
Sono bugiarda, bugiarda, lo so~ (I am a liar, a liar, I know~)
[ Alberto's not a bad singer, but uh, he's not exactly trying to sing well, either. He's just having fun. Somehow it's not surprising at all that he's making his own fun while cooking with his cat even when he's alone like this (or so he thinks). ...The fact that he's drinking espresso at night also helps this, though, of course. ]
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Date: 2021-10-17 03:45 am (UTC)He runs forward when he spots Alberto nearing the beach, meeting him halfway. He hasn't been waiting long at all. It looks like the both of them shared enthusiasm to meet with one another. )
Good evening, Alberto! ( He greets happily. )
I'm ready! ( He pauses for a moment. ) ... Uhm, was there something else you wanted to do while we were here, though?
( Alberto was... a little vague. Not to mention, he had definitely dodged some of his questions. )
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Date: 2021-10-17 03:09 pm (UTC)[ He doesn't wait a second to respond, that smirk turning to a wide, mischievous grin. And without even a hint of hesitation, he readies himself, then takes off running without warning, right toward the edge of the cliff, and shouts with gusto...: ]
Andiamooooo~!
[ ...and leaps straight off and over the edge in a bold dash, light laughter laced through the fresh night air mid-jump. This is your crazy new friend, Asriel. Here to give you a heart attack. Sorry about it.
But there's no screaming, no splat, no damage. In fact, there's an unnerving, loud, gravelly sound like rocks moving, and a slight shake in the ground, as the hand of the Cliff Beast extends and catches the boy as he falls. Alberto's lucky it does, because for as much as he puts the poor Cliff Beast to work for fun ever since his very first day, playing this stupid game by himself, he actually has never done it at night, and really has no idea if the Cliff Beast sleeps or not?! Whether or not it does, at least it's awake now to save his brazen little butt.
Once he's caught, Asriel can find him sprawled out in the palm of the Cliff Beast's massive hand, laughing in sheer delight. ]
Ahaha~! Woohooooo! Yeah-hahah!
[ He thrusts his hands up in the air triumphantly, letting out a huge sigh of relief, then scrambles to his feet, standing with his legs wide apart, feeling his oats now. He waves both his arms back and forth widely, coaxing the other boy down with his brightest grin yet, eyes alight with
chaoscharm. ]Asrieeeel! C'mon~!