Hector is barefoot in the shallows, jeans rolled up to keep the cuffs dry. He's in a Pansy Division tee shirt, and black jeans patched wth purple. His hair is shved on the sides, though starting to grow back in. He wears a silver stud in one ear and a dangling crucifix in the other. He is playing Stairway to Heaven on a flute as he walks.
"There's a sign on the wall, but she wants to be sure, 'cause you know sometimes words have two meanings," comes a voice joining in, entirely lacking in hesitation or that sort of quiet am-I-interrupting quality. Perfectly happy to carry as far as it does, out into the water to meet the sound of the flute. There's feeling in it, too, though with a strange, fainter underpinning of joy.
Zane's just swung down off the playground bars, or perhaps along them on his way -- it's hard to tell now, but he's landed, and he's sauntering on over, in his Docs and and ripped jeans and the Batman shirt that fits him so nicely. No jacket today; it's too warm out, really.
Hector flashes the vaguely familiar face a quick smile between breaths, eyes krinkling up. He actually is pretty good, Jethro Tulling it up when it's time for the faster bits. He seems just fine with vocal accompaniment and he drifts towards the larger teen as he plays. He's muscled like a swimmer or a sprinter.
Zane is a swimmer, so he's basically muscled like one by definition! They all belong to a swimmer. Not so much sprinter, though. Currently, sticking with saunter, and at least once slow-turn-in-a-circle-with-arms-outstretched-er. When it fits right with the music. He's also pretty darn good -- knows all the words, puts feeling and inflection into them, knows how to hold the tune when the playing gets fancier. And is quite clearly enjoying himself, flashing Hector a brilliant grin right back for that quick smile. When he reaches the nearest of the picnic tables, he hops up onto it, partly using it like a stage, partly like a balance beam when he walks along its edge and back.
Hector circles him, with a swaggering almost dance step, until he winds down to that final long trill. when he has his breath back, he grins up at him, "I didn't recognize you with your clothes on.... you were at Musical try outs too weren't you?"
"I get that a lot," Zane says, with another brilliant grin, though there... might also be a very faint extra pinkness to his cheeks as well. He makes an unreasonably flamboyant bow, and when he comes back up the grin manages to be wider, without any of the hint of blush at all. "I was! I'm Molina!" he exclaims, sounding straight-up thrilled about it, and then pauses, "I mean, I'm Zane still, but I'm playing Molina. Youuu're... in the ensemble, right? Hector." He's got a pretty decent memory usually. "Silver and Star and Spear's..." Pause. "Something." From the expression, that's not meant to be an insinuation; he's a little confused.
Hector gives him a grin, all dimples and perfect teeth and claps loudly, "I think you'll be brilliant at it. I'm just in the chorus, yep." He doesn't seem to mind, "I like singing and dancing, but I'm not really an actor." He doesn't seem to mind, "Half Brother. I'm between James and the triplets. It was a surprise to everybody, but here I am." He seems cheerful rather than offended.
Zane does a snap-finger-point at Hector. "Half-brother!" he echoes, and nods. "Right. And chorus is good, I think you get to do more dancing than I do in this one." He pauses, head tilting, "Though, I dunno, I guess it depends how we get choreographed. I should ask Jade if he's got a lot in mind yet..." He considers this a little more as he jumps lightly from table-top down to bench and sits on the table instead, but then focuses on Hector again. "And thanks. I hope so! It's gonna be so much fun."
- clickclickclickclick* The rapid sound of a camera shutter goes off from a nearby tree as Zane makes his little jump.
Hector says, “Jade's doing the choreography? Cool. I'm looking forward to doing his steps." He steps up to sit next to Zane, setting his flute aside. He calls loudly, "Hey, Silver!" He doesn't actually bother to check that it's her. "How's sean doing?"”
"If Jade's not choreographing for us then it's not gonna be as good as it could be," Zane says, with complete faith in the guy's talents. His brow furrows at the clicky sounds, and unlike Hector, he does look around, trying to pinpoint what and where it is, and smiling again when Hector calls like that, though he still seems to be looking for Silver herself.
Silver lets out a sigh as Hector calls out to her, narrowing her eyes at her half-brother. There's a long pause because she says in a grumpy tone, "Hey," From the tree. Cover blown she begins to process of climbing down. "Sean's good," She says hesitantly as she climbs. "I was able to help him with his homework before school, too." She grunts as she jumps about five feet to the ground.
Hector nods, "I've heard a lot about his choreography and I really am looking forward to it." He watches his sister extract herself from the branches, "Paparazzi everywhere around our new star of the stage." He nods, "If there's anything I can do, let me know, okay?"
"Why's Sean only kinda good?" Zane asks, cocking his head at Silver, and lifting a hand to wave her a greeting. He does not ask why she's taking pictures of him from a tree. Secretly. Does this happen a lot? Does it just... not seem weird? "He got Valentin, that's like the other best dude part." And thus clearly he should be very good! "Something happen?"
Silver shoots Zane a small smile as she walks over to the picnic table. "Oh, he's fine. Just was having trouble with, uhhhh, school work. So, you know, I'm helping him out," She says evasively, shrugging a shoulder as she settles onto the opposite side of the bench. "I saw that! I was actually encouraging him too do so. He needs to have more confidence. The Dead agree," She says with a firm nod of her head. Now settled down she reaches into her bag and pulls out, no surprise, a Jolt. Tapping the top a few time and holding it away from her just in case it fizzes when she opens it.
Hector seems to think Silver hiding in trees to take pictures is completely normal. Of course, he's half Thistle, so can one really trust his judgement? "He got Valentin? That's so cool!" He nods as if the dead agreeing settles it. He leans away in case it spurts, "We'll I'm happy to pitch in with homework help or whatever."
Trouble with schoolwork. This is a thing Zane does not find the least bit questionable. "You help everyone out," he says to Silver, setting his hands a bit further back to lean on them, and gives her another bright smile. "He was good. How come you didn't try out?" It's not like she can't sing, after all. It takes a moment before he asks, "Like, the Grateful Dead?" That seems unlikely. He doesn't have a better interpretation right now, though. A glance at her Jolt, and indeed does not look surprised.
It does fizz a little bit, but not badly. She's able to slurp it up as it spritzes slowly out for a second or two. A finger is held up towards Zane. Then she is gulping. Gulping. Finger still held up. Burp. "I am not a good actress. Singing is one thing, acting is something else entirely," She says with a smile and shake of her head.
Hector says, “I think Vlad the Impaler is about as good as I get acting wise." He was Vlad for history class the other day. "So what are you going to wear to Jade's Masquerade?”
So, there is a rustle off from the direction from which the Marchants typically surface in the park. Mona isn't the queen of stealth, and the trail of clove smoke may well announce her before the boots crackling along the path. She's dressed to the nines, as ever, but in an understated sort of way: today it's pinstriped pants and a silk shirt, with a snazzy tie, open vest, and her biker jacket hanging over a shoulder from her clove-free hand. "Greeting, fellow miscreants," she greets, waving to leave a spiral trail of smoke rising from her fingertips. She looks marginally grumpy about something, but is putting on a decently brave face all the same. "Somebody please have some liquor, the bastards are making me go on stage this time." That would be why on the grumpy; she's always backstage handling costumes.
Zane laughs at the burp, still leaning back on his hands. One boot lifts from where they're resting on the table's bench, leg extending to nudge Silver lightly with the toe. "Maybe, but you can dance too, right? It's a musical, you'd've been awesome in the chorus even if you don't think you can act." Hector's question gets a grin, even if it also gets a correction: "It's not just Jade's Masquerade. If one triplet's throwing it they all are. And..." A pause, and a shrug, though the grin remains. "It's a secret. Or, anyway, you should ask--" He breaks off at the rustling, and the grin brightens even further. "--Mona!" His hand lifts, waving to her. "You'll be awesome, but they can't make you, can they?"
"I'm an investigative reporter, not a miscreant," Silver huffs at Mona, lifting her chin just a bit. Then noisily slurping the Jolt she just opened. When Zane evades Hector's question she chimes in with, "He's still trying to figure out what to wear. Mining for ideas. And...I dunno...just..." She goes quiet at Zane's encouragement, cheeks coloring slightly. Then suddenly her eyes lock on Hector, "Oh! Hey, Mona, you can help him with figuring out a costume for your party, yeah?" She turns to the classy costumer with a hopefully expression. Evade! Evade!
Hector eyes the new arrival, as usually not entirely sure who he's talking to, "On stage? Would a joint do?" He has a flute close to his hand, but is dressed in a Pansy division shirt, black jeans patched with purple, a wide Mohawk he's just starting to grow out, and mismatched silver earrings. He eyes his half sister, "Just what were you instigating this time?" His eyes flick between the three of them, "It needs to be something i can coordinate with my boyfriend."
"Pfft," says Mona, eloquence personified. "They can make me do whatever they damned well please, according to Mother," she laments as she drops to a seat on a vacant patch of bench. "This party's Jade's baby. I only pull the masquerade card when my portfolio needs a refresher." The grin immediately follows, and she nudges Zane with a shoulder. "Speaking of which, you should call Lennon." Grinning over to Silver, she nods enthusiastically, picking up subtly enough on the need for a quick dodge, and looks to Hector. "Well, what are you in the mood for? We have a stash of stuff at the house people can pick through to throw something together on the fly, since not everybody has random crap piled up for such occasions, but that ends up being a little scattershot and whoever shows up late and ends up with the glittery top hat sheds chartreuse glitter for like, a week after that." Pause. Her lips thin toward a 'hmmm' and she cants her head. "Well, I think we're going with garden bacchanal or something like that, if it helps?"
"I love that hat though," Zane says, and reaches down Monaward with a wordless grabby-hand gesture that almost certainly means 'pass me that clove' and suggests it has probably been made a hundred times before. His knee shifts to return that bump of her shoulder, too. "And 'kay, I'll call her." And speaking of photographers, he looks to Silver again, echoing Hector's question now that it's been brought up: "What were you investigating'?"
Silver makes a face as Zane persists. Lips pressing into a thin line and it is clear the wheels are turning in her brain. "Things. And such. It's research. For a story. I can't reveal anything before print!" As she speaks she grows in confidence within her denial. "I'm going as Hatshepsut," She tells Mona before throwing back more of her Jolt.
Hector snorts, "I've nothing against glitter, but draw the line at Chartreuse. Also, it would go badly with red hair, I think. Garden bacchanal, huh? Clearly more pondering is needed." He flashes Silver a grin, "Well rule will suit you."
Mona sucks in another quick drag from the clove before passing it up and over to Zane, holding in the smoke for a moment before the blue-tinged cloud escapes her lips, blown off to the side and away from the collective. "Yeah, lady, you gotta let us know what mysteries are afoot in this oh-so-exciting metropolis," she agrees, flashing a grin over to Silver. It is anything but an oh-so-exciting metropolis, so she'll take her mysteries where she can find them. "That sounds like a great costume, but boo on not telling us what interesting thing is actually happening in town. Unless it's an expose on what happens at the parties, in which case, well... " The point of her tongue clicks against the back of her front teeth, and she just shakes her head. "I think MTV might be a little disappointed in us. We'll have to do better."
Zane takes the clove and has a drag as well, leaning a little further back and tilting his head as well to exhale the smoke up into the air and watch it curl toward the sky. He seems, however, to think that Silver's excuse makes sense, since he doesn't press further. Or else he's just busy trying to work out the Hatshepsut thing. He may have gotten as far as 'Egyptian?' but the furrowed brow suggests probably not further than that. "What's that look like?" he asks her.
ROLL: Silver rolls finesse+1 for: : x1 : x2 (Pair) : x1 : x1 -- Match Value: 1 (Raw: 4 8 7 4 3 -- d8)
Silver just sticks her tongue out, cutely mind you with little menace, at Mona when she presses. "Read the school paper. Gotta get my facts right first," She proclaims with a glance at Zane. Then she actually looks at him seeing the confusion on his face. "Oh. She was one of the first female Pharaohs of Egypt. Insisted on wearing the full Pharaoh regalia, beard and all. Had her statuary and all that depicted a lot like that," She is happy to explain it seems as she finishes off her jolt. The trash can is within a lucky throw and so she takes it. And scores!
Hector flashes Mona a quick grin, "I'm from San Francisco. At this point I'm happy for anything to do." He eyes his half sister with concern, "This paper doesn't have a gossip column does it?"
"I will, I will!" Mona protests with a sudden laugh as she reaches into a pocket of the jacket in search of her cigarette case. "Gossip column would make for an interesting addition, if not. Doubt they'd let it go as part of the official one, but... " She has a trademark 'sneaky look', and she's suddenly wearing it. "Not like someone couldn't start a proper 'zine." Her head cants, and she glances to Silver, squinting playfully. "Dammit, you'd still be gorgeous with a beard. That is totally not even fair."
"Someone definitely oughta," Zane says, grinning at Mona, and then over at Silver, brows lifting a little. He follows the trajectory of the can with some approval, then returns to considering her and her answer. "So you're gonna have a beard and the weird hat," his hands, cigarette and all, describe the down-the-sides part of a headdress, then cross against his chest, "and the weird kinda hooky thing?" His eyes narrow a little as he studies her, trying to imagine it, then nods. "Yeah, you could prolly pull off a beard. Though, maybe not for, like, a new daily style or something."
Silver smiles and blushes at Mona's comment, ducking her head to focus on pulling something else from her bag. Another Jolt as it turns out. "Gossip? Not as such. Silvio says it's not real news and we DO try and stick to that. Gossip is just...so...crass," Is what she opts for. "That isn't to say a piece or two hasn't gotten in when we had to fill space..." She pops open this can without thinking and jolt spray out joyfully on her at the very least. "ACK!" And she tries to mouth it, like you do, but not before she's already gotten a good soak. *SLUUUUUUURRRRRRP* Then she is coughing and setting the Jolt down. "Um...Flail...crook, and yeah. Ugh," She agrees with Zane distractedly. "Hatshepsut wore the Khepresh rather than a Nemes crown. They had, like, eight different kinds of crowns usually they could or would wear. Depending," She begins to dig in her bag for napkins. She's always stuffing extra from taco bell in there for emergencies. Just like this.
Hector studies his half sister, "You definitely have the cheekbones for it. Really, I can't think of anyone more regal at our school... I'm just as glad not to have a gossip column to be honest." His eyes flick between silver and Mona, but he doesn't comment. He leans back at the spray and snatches up his flute, "Wasn't there a lower Egypt bit and an upper Egypt bit? And snakes or feathers sometimes. I can never remember which is upper and which is lower." He glances at his watch, "Shit! I got to go! Nice meeting you properly zane and Mona!" And then he's running off.
"I still haven't actually decided what I'm doing for it, yet," Mona admits with a tiny shrug. "I've been working on Jade's stuff and Thea has yet to get back to me with what she wants, and I try to not overlap with her, so-" Ah, the stress and drama of avoiding any potential fashion faux pas; such is her life. "-maybe Nymph #7 or something something mermaid, since the spring stuff always eventually ends up at the pool sooner or later." She doesn't see the spray of Jolt coming, but it does manage to hit her square; she blinks through it, tossing her head a little to clear her eyes without smudging her mascara. Priorities. "Gossip is totally the news most people care about." The 'most people part is delivered with the suggestion that she's not exactly one of them, but grudgingly admits to the awareness of the trend all the same. "Would increase circulation, no doubt." Setting the jacket down, she glances over to Hector, asking, "This place must be super dull by compariso--take care!"
Zane makes a small startled noise and attempts to lean further back, out of the line of fire. Well, of Jolt. It mostly works -- but it clears the space a bit more that ends up with Mona getting a good spray instead. He immediately looks chagrined. "Shit, sorry," he says, as though it'd been his own soda that did it, and pulls off his shirt, which solves two problems at once: it removes the main area he got sprayed, and it lets him offer it to Mona to wipe off her face, before he sees there are also napkins being pulled out. It's also a neat trick, since it involves negotiating the position of the clove between hands and mouth in the meantime, and that seems... weirdly well-coordinated. Surely it's not a thing he's practiced, but it's smooth and nothing catches fire. For a fraction of a moment he looks torn as he notices that Silver's even more soda-d, and that he can't offer it to both of them, but luckily she does have the napkins and any danger that he might've decided to offer his jeans is quashed.
"That sounds like an old version of chutes and ladders," he says, "Snakes and feathers. But yeah, I bet you'll look good. And you oughta make sure you have something awesome too, Mon." He takes another drag, and leans back again, looking out over the lake thoughtfully. "Isn't that what they call human interest? 'cause that's what humans are interested in. Right?" A hand lifts in farewell to Hector, and he calls after him, "Hey, that was really good flute-playing!" before he looks back to the girls.
Silver hands out napkins at Hector escapes the spray. "Later," She calls after him distractedly as she mops up. "Increasing circulation is okay...but only, like, for good reasons. I don't like trash talk. No one in the paper really does, you know?" She is going to need a show. Peeling back her jean jackets she dabs at her chest and blouse. The white floral thing has faint brown spots all over it now. "Ugh...sticky. Oops. I actually have to make the beard myself. Cause it juts out and is braided. I'll probably have to put jewelry wire or something inside so it keeps shape." She continues to mop up the sprayed Jolt with brown napkins from her perch upon a picnic table with Mona and Zane.
She can't quite avoid giggling at Zane, and she slowly shakes her head. "Please, I knew what I was getting into when I sat down. 'sides, it isn't a silk day, was gonna hit the pool after this anyway." She takes the shirt, and starts dabbing lightly at her face while somehow managing to not notice the abs... yet. Maybe there's still Jolt in her eyes. "I bet it would be good to note stuff like... I dunno, people's accomplishments and similar things. Local awards, local activities -- like if somebody was in a parade, or a local show, or made it onto the local news, that sort of thing," Mona considers, though she nods to Silver at the mention of keeping it positive. She glances after Hector, and sighs quietly, only then looking up, and finding herself suddenly distracted by the view. Wait, what? Brain scramble. "I always wonder about people who transfer in, and just how bored they must be. We must seem so... uncultured." This clearly bothers the fashionista for some reason, and her hand twists lightly in the fabric of the shirt. Focus, girl, focus! "You could probably make the beard from gauze and papier mache," she suggests, suddenly thoughtful, clearing her throat. "Like a softer version of the stuff they make casts from. Or find something to braid over and around to do the wrapping. Could stack a couple of wine corks together, and it would keep it light, and round, about right?"
"Man, pool sounds good," Zane says, "though, we could just jump in the lake. It's, like... right there." He gestures with the cigarette before smoking again, then twists to pick up some of Silver's napkins and start helping mop up the table and bench with them. "Probably people who transfer in from like LA and San Francisco and New York'd think so but what if they transfer in from, I dunno, somewhere in BFE? Then we'd probably be amazing, right? Totally cultured." He doesn't seem to notice if he's become part of the scenery.
Looking up toward Silver, he asks, "Is it supposed to be round? That's a really weird shape for a beard." Sodden napkins are set aside, and he reaches for another, tucking what's left of the cigarette and talking around it. "How's gossip different from news anyway? I mean, if it's true?" It's not a rhetorical question. A blink, and it suddenly occurs to him to offer Mona back her clove. 'bout time, really.
Silver considers Mona's suggestion with pursed lips. She's not glancing at Zane out of the corner of her eye frequently. Nope. Not at all. And her cheeks aren't slightly ruddy either. "Ummm...well yeah, we do all that. Awards, games, clubs, that sort of thing. That's not gossip though," She says with a shrug of her shoulder. "A piece on 'Cashew'," She makes a mockery of the nickname gladly with Hector out of earshot, "Dating any guy that smiles at him nice, now that would be a gossip piece." There is a pause as she further considers building of the beard. "Well, royals usually shaved their heads and wore human and animal hair wigs, all super styled. Same with the beards a lot of the time. They actually used felted wool, which is pretty easy to get and felt into your desired shape. And it looks enough like my hair, if I get the right color, it'll be good." Her eyes stray to the lake and then she looks down at her own attire. "I...don't have my suit with me...or a towel...but the lake -does- look good right now." She really does detest that sticky soda feeling.
"Yeah, I mean, we could just jump in the lake, but I don't have a-" Bathing suit handy. None of them likely do. This has never been a hindrance before, but suddenly, it is. Weird. Weird, Mona. So weird. She takes the clove, and sets it back to her lips, taking a long, slow drag. "Yeah," the costumer agrees with a slow nod, even if she isn't actually looking at Silver. "Felt would work. Or-" Thus begins the longest drag on a clove in the recorded history of the universe as she considers what words are going to come out of her mouth next.
She's still considering it when they actually do, which is probably what gets her into trouble more often than not.
Especially when those words are, "Fuck it."
She drops the jacket on the tabletop, and starts to wrest her pack from off of her shoulder. Thank goodness she dresses in layers and someone may be able to talk her out of this in time.
Someone may! ...it is not going to be Zane. "Swimsuits are pretty much just underwear anyway," he points out cheerfully, probably not for the first time, and leans down to start untying his boots. Not much in the way of layers, here, but that does at least take a minute or so. If he were in flipflops he might be in the water already! "So is it just gossip 'cause you're saying it mean, or what? Like, if you were just saying, so this person was dating this person but they broke up and now he's with this person who used to be with this other person and it's just true, is it still gossip or is it news then? Or is it not ever news if it's shit like who's dating who? And why didn't the royals just wear their own hair?" A small pause. "I wonder if I should let my hair grow some more for the show. Hm." Glance to Mona. Hey, she's queen of costuming, after all!
Silver blinks in surprise at Mona's reaction and looks her up and down as she starts to undress. Then she turns to look at the lake. "It'll be cold..." She says warningly and glances at Zane. Watching him get talked into it. For a second and then two she shifts in her seat, uncertain, then lets out an explosive sigh. "Okay, but Mona you're giving us rides home. With the heat on," And she pulls her bag off and jean jacket follows, being carefully tucked into her bag. That bag must be like Mary Poppin's bag...though to be fair it's bulging at this point. "Gossip is...well...yeah like that. It's highlighting a persons flaws, or perhaps merits, to inflate them in some way. Usually it's bad though. Like talking about someone cheating. It may be true, but is it anyone's business but the people involved?" She is much slower to get undressed, watching Zane and talking more than undressing quickly. She won't lose her nerve so is in no rush.
Once she's shed the bag, the vest goes, and she's tugging at her tie. It's been a day for Mona, between having to be on the stage for a change, and the sudden invasion of the six-pack that's making her seem tipsier than the traditional kind likely would. Nope, back to the important business of buttons. "The Venetians did the same thing a lot during the Renaissance," Mona notes, clove clenched between her teeth since the shirt buttons take both hands, "and usually used a variety of colors so it didn't match at all, because then it proved you could afford to buy someone else's hair. Which I guess makes sense but it's funny to think about the idea that the whole striped hair trend has its roots in something so far back, or so quirky."
The mention of the cold does snap her at least marginally to her senses. "Or we could all just pile into the car and go to the pool. I mean. It's heated this time of year. Or the hot tub. We have spare suits." Reason can actually penetrate, even if it sounds like some of the wind has been taken out of her sails. "C'mon, we can plan more things for the party and all that, if you want?" Her shoulders slump. "Need to ask you about something, too, Z, a little later?" That has her taking another quick drag from the clove before flicking its remains to the ground to twist out under her boot. "Let's maybe not all get pneumonia before y'all gotta sing?"
Zane has gotten one boot fully untied before Silver points out it's going to be cold, which makes him pause to eye the lake for a beat before he continues anyway -- how cold could it be today, really? -- and nearly barefoot before Mona finishes outlining the alternate plan. "Well... yeah, okay," he allows, that last little comment seeming to be the deciding factor, as it gets a nod -- as did the note about asking him something. Later. That word's enough to stave off his curiosity for now, but barely. He finishes getting to barefoot, though, since he's nearly there, shoving his socks into his boots and then carrying the latter dangling by their laces as he hops from the table to the ground. He briefly eyes the adjustment to the girls' outfits before picking up his shirt and slinging it over his shoulder with his free hand.
"Planning sounds good. But... wouldn't they look richer if they got hair that did match? 'cause it'd be easier to find any five people to sell you hair than five with the same shade of, like, blond, right? They'd just have to... I dunno, start a fashion of tipping your wig so then everyone'd still know you bought it. Or something." Nothing about gossip; that might still be percolating.
"It won't be all that bad!" Silver says encouragingly. "Though...hot tub -does- sound sweet," And she bites her lower lip and eyes Zane more. She seems unwilling to be the one to tell him to stop. Then she looks back at Mona meaningfully. What meaning she's trying to convey though..."Actually a cold dip followed by a hot tub session is used in several countries as a way of improving their immune system. Norway does it and Iceland. And it's a LOT colder there." But she is picking up her bag. Seemingly happy to go to the hot tub instead. "Lead the way, oh fantastical fashionista. Guide us in the way of costumes that we might wow at the party!"
"Well, it was visible at a distance, which meant all the people that weren't allowed to come up really close could see it. People find all manner of dumb ways to be stuck up, is what it really comes down to," says the girl who can't entirely help being somewhat stuck up herself. Shirt half-unbuttoned, Mona pauses to catch the vest and tie and grabs her bag before snatching up her keys from the belt loop from which they perpetually dangle. She catches the look from Silver, but she can't quite suss it, instead letting her brow furrow mildly before one arches, curious. It'll keep, apparently, as she slings everything over her shoulder to start off toward the car, parked near enough that it can be seen from the table. It's a black convertible classic Jaguar presently wearing its early season hard-top -- snazzy, but nowhere near as showy as her siblings' vehicles are. It also conveniently seats more than just two. "I dunno about the party, though. I mean, I just always go with 'whatever they aren't doing'," Mona offers with a tiny shrug, clearly referring to the same duo of Jade and Thea. "They're the shiny ones, you know?"
"Huh." This covers both the hair situation and the cold/hot thing from the Scandinavians. "Well, if the pool's not heated a lot we could jump in that and then the hot tub, I guess?" Zane's following as well, of course, the movement of Mona's catching-of-stuff catching his eye and maybe or maybe not having anything to do with not catching Silver's look -- but then, it wasn't meant for him, after all. He pads on out to the car, no question as to that familiar destination. "You're shiny too. When you want to be," he notes, then amends, "Or when you gotta be, anyway." Family stuff. He's seen some of it over the years.
"Nothing wrong with you being shiny. Why not out-do them? No reason not to be your best and most amazing self. And, like, costumes are your thing," Silver says as they walk to the car. While she has seen the Jag a few times, up close it is all sleek and pretty. A soft and lusty sigh escapes her as she trails her fingers across the hood. "Shotgun!" She says quickly, shooting Zane a challenging grin. "Mona, can we swing by my house? It's on the way and...I really am weird about suits..." And when they do she comes out a minute later looking most despondent. "I've gotta help with an autopsy. Maybe we can kibitz over beards tomorrow? Guess you get front seat, Zane," She opens the door and pushes the front seat out of his way. "Maybe we can hot tub another night?"
"It... wouldn't go over very well," Mona says quietly, though she seems content to leave it at that. The sibling dynamics amongst the Marchant triplets, no matter how close they may be, are appropriately Machiavellian, it would appear.
The stop by Silver's is quick, and the car waits out front like a proper limo service. "Shit," Mona says with a visible wince, as the bad news is delivered. "Sorry about that. And you know you can come by any time, right? Standing invite for all three still applies -- if everything finishes up soon, give a call over?"
"Hey!" Zane protests when shotgun is called. He has standing shotgun here! And yet, he folds himself into the backseat, settling into the middle bit and leaning forward to rest an arm against each front-seat backrest to easily talk between them. Don't crash, Mona. That's not a safe spot.
"Dude, that sucks," he says to Silver, entirely sincerely, though he doesn't hesitate to take over the abandoned front seat. More room for his legs! Boots and shirt get to keep sitting in the back, though. "But yeah, come by if you finish early. Just, like... wash your hands first." There's a grin with the joke; of course she washes her hands!
"Okay! I can do that, though it probably will not. But I'll keep that in mind. Thanks Mona," Silver says, flashing her a warm smile. Then Zane gets the same smile, "I -always- wash my hands. Do you know what kind of flesh-eating bacteria thrive in a corpse? Lemme tell ya...or not. Go have fun without me!" And she turns to trot back inside.