hyacinthe 🦄 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
horseboi) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
adventureic2024-03-14 04:26 pm
horseboi) wrote in adventureic2024-03-14 04:26 pm
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WHO: Darcy & Hyacinthe.
WHEN: Recently, before his new job.
WHERE: A bookstore, Toronto.
WHAT: Hy attends Darcy's book signing and they avoid having a heart to heart.
WARNINGS: Discussion of erotic novels.
“I just really must tell you,” eyes watery, hand held to chest - the classic pose of a devoted fan. “I must tell you,” Felicia, the bog witch who had now held up the last of the book signing line for 15 minutes or so, beseeched Darcy. “That last instalment of Leviathan’s Bounty was everything to me. I went right out to Lake Ontario and tried my hand at finding a sea serpent for myself. Well, I lost my goggles, so it was difficult to see in all of that muck but —”
“Thank you so much Francine–” “Felicia” “Felicia,” Darcy smiled her widest, sharpest, smile, stunning the woman to star struck silence. “You know, I was looking into Lake Ontario’s fish community for ideas, you’ve inspired me to make that extra step.” The woman squeaked in sheer embarrassed surprise as she was ushered away.
“There’s got to be at least one mutated goldfish,” she turned to Hyacinthe.
"Oh yes, plenty. They're invasive. Terrible vibes," Hyacinthe responded conspiratorially before turning back to the crowd and offering a saccharine smile.
Once nobody was looking, however, he turned back to Darcy and suggested, "What about an anglerfish mermaid? Lures men to their doom and absorbs them into her body. People like horror romance, right?"
Darcy smacked Hyacinthe in the chest, expression severe. “Where have you been all my life?”
There were excited titters from the few who lingered despite the fact that the store manager had announced twice now, that the signing was over. One man in particular was staring wide eyed at Hyacinthe in fact from his poorly concealed spot by the Self-Help section.
“You ever thought about co-writing one of these babies?”
Hy opened his eyes wide. "Me? You're the genius. I've just had a couple thousand years to gather a collection of fucked up shower thoughts—" (He caught the man staring and quickly added, "—figuratively speaking!"
Like a shark, Darcy grinned. Blood in the water. “What is erotica but the fucked up shower thoughts put to paper. See, she knows what I’m talking about,” a tall woman, decorated in some incredibly sexy piercings, gave Darcy a wink before she sauntered out of the store with her friend.
“What could your pen name be…”
"Hmmmm. I'm open to suggestions. 'Hyacinthe' doesn't really work for erotica unless you're looking to invoke the patron saint of pierogi. What do you think? Horse pun? Drag name? Hit me."
Darcy considered this. “O. R. Neigh?” Was that too on the nose? “Gal Ope?”
From across the room, the man by the self-help book section got brave. “Um, Dick Matize?”
Hy chuckled. "Oh no, I don't need RichDick to hate me any more than they already do." He watched the man warily, unsure if he was a threat to Darcy—he took his job as bodyguard very seriously.
Darcy snickered as she packed up, shooting the strange man a wink for his creative effort. “Tough break Benny. See you next signing?”
Benny nodded, flushing in embarrassment or delight from being acknowledged, and scuttled out the door.
“He was eyeing you up, Hay Girl Hay,” she tried the name as she elbowed her bodyguard in the side.
Hyacinthe blinked at her, not really understanding immediately. "I thought he was going to steal your books." he admitted, slightly guiltily.
That sent Darcy into another fit of cackles. “He’s harmless, he just really wants to fuck monsters and thinks I, in my divine and prolific writing power, is his best ticket to exactly that.” She waggled her eyebrows at her friend before slapping him on the back.
“I’d say that was successful. What do you think?”
"I think it went great! Everyone adores you! No surprise there. What does it feel like to be universally beloved?" Hyacinthe says, but then pauses and circles back, curious.
"Do monsterfuckers count unicorns as monsters they'd like to fuck?"
“Monsterfuckers count anything non-human as monsters they’d like to fuck,” Darcy explained, the definition itself a favourite Reddit and therefore booktok topic in her industry. But seriously, were these people trying to get doctorates in fictional fucking? Who gave a shit.
“But you're not wrong. You're in the fantasy genre of boning, you mystical babe you,” she kissed his cheek and gestured for him to follow her out of the bookstore.
“You think you'll ever go back to humans?”
Hy returned the peck and followed her out of the shop. "I don't know. It seems… unwise," he said, wincing a little as he did so. "Can anything ever work out between an immortal and a mortal? Like, I know my species has a thing for them, but I mean, look how well that's worked out for us." He gestured around at all the non-existent unicorns walking among them.
"Maybe I should only date immortals. They're the only ones who wouldn't have that as an excuse to kill me. But I don't know, they'd probably just find some other reason. People are fucked?"
“People are fucked,” the leprechaun agreed, and it wasn't like she had much evidence to support the opposite. Darcy had a large amount of acquaintances, fans, and friendly types (and an even larger number of ex somethings), but only one real friend. Hyacinthe. And she'd only just gotten him back.
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m super into the whole revenge, homicide vibe you've got going on, but,” she shrugged. “I think you want to love too much to deny yourself for too long.”
Hyacinthe sighed wistfully. "Eternity's a long time to go without ever loving someone again," he said, before he caught—and cursed—himself. "Fuck! WHY am I made like this? It's gross. Why can't I just be a hedonistic libertine like all the cool kids?"
The leprechaun’s answering cackle was loud enough to draw the ire of a passing mother and child.
“Because you're good,” she looped her arm through his, their height difference comical despite her boots. “Literally pure of heart. And what's purer than love,” well, not how she wrote it, but the Disney version was out there somewhere.
“You could get a piercing, something dangly that says I’ll fuck your mom after I fuck you up with this rainbow horn here. Can you whip it out like a switch blade?”
"I can't get a piercing. It just heals right back up," Hyacinthe replied, a little bit pouty. "I can kind of whip it out like a switchblade—" A woman passed, making a disgusted face, and he needless, politely clarified, "We're talking about unicorn horns, not… that. Don't worry about it. Anyway, where were we—were you giving me style tips? Should I get a cool leather jacket or is that just setting potential dates up for disappointment?"
“I definitely think you could pull off leather,” she agrees loyally and makes a mental note to look into temporary tattoos - the glittery kind. “You could never set any date up for disappointment. I do think you should maybe make the side step over from humans. It's convenient how quickly they die if you're into the whole casual thing. But you’re not.”
"No, you're right. I'm done. I've given them an eternity to get their shit together as a species, and they've done nothing but disappoint me. Perhaps I'll try dating a gryphon. Now there's a respectable creature," Hyacinthe said hopefully, knowing all too well that love was rarely that simple. However, it was nice—even if only for a moment—to pretend that it was.
Darcy grinned in encouragement. “I happen to know a gryphon or two, single, and…okay one is definitely single so we can start there.”
She pinched his arm and waggled her bros at him. “Unless there's someone at the Society…”
"No, there's nobody there," Hy said quickly. "I think Valentine's Day was a reminder from the universe not to dip my pen in the company ink. Too much drama—and not even the fun kind. What about you?"
Darcy laughed off the question. “There are a whole lot of someone’s my love, all of them fine little eye candy.” And that was it. That's all it ever was.
Her smile was a little tight at the edges when she turned to nudge him across the street, and the fine February slush slapped against their boots. “You think you found your calling with this therapy thing?”
It was Hy's turn to laugh. "Oh, god no. Everyone knows I'm a fraud and a sham—including Maya. I'm shocked I haven't been fired yet. Who would take advice from me anyway? I'm immortal and I still don't have my shit together. I really don't know what to do with this… cursed bitch of an existence. People do like hanging out with the horses, but it has nothing to do with me, really."
Darcy rolled her eyes and stopped them so she could pull out a cigarette. “Wow, you throwing yourself a pity party over there? I highly doubt hot doc thinks you're a fraud, idjit. You think I’m stupid or something? What do you think I write in my little notebook there,” she inhaled deeply, the end of the cigarette seemingly lighting itself . “I notice, Thomas. They like you. The horse thing is a nice bonus.”
Hyacinthe scoffed—he was throwing himself a pity party, but she still didn't have to call him out like that! How dare!
"Maybe I'm just the department eye-candy. They covet my impeccable taste in fashion," he said, trying to recover.
Darcy would give him that. “That's why the walls bled all over you, place is jealous as fuck.”
She took a long hit off her cigarette, exhaling a plume of smoke with just as much commitment.
“You uh,” she fiddled with the thing, not quite meeting Hyacinth’s eyes. “You wouldn't just up and leave though, right?”
"Of course not," Hyacinthe replied, also not looking her in the eye. "You know I'd tell you, at the very least."
Cool. Coolcoolcool. “Grand,” she winked, and with a roll of her shoulders, seemed to snap back to herself. “Now, let’s get obliterated and judge everyone at the Society’s fashion sense. If anyone deserved to get bled on, it was definitely Cynthia in payroll.”
WHEN: Recently, before his new job.
WHERE: A bookstore, Toronto.
WHAT: Hy attends Darcy's book signing and they avoid having a heart to heart.
WARNINGS: Discussion of erotic novels.
“I just really must tell you,” eyes watery, hand held to chest - the classic pose of a devoted fan. “I must tell you,” Felicia, the bog witch who had now held up the last of the book signing line for 15 minutes or so, beseeched Darcy. “That last instalment of Leviathan’s Bounty was everything to me. I went right out to Lake Ontario and tried my hand at finding a sea serpent for myself. Well, I lost my goggles, so it was difficult to see in all of that muck but —”
“Thank you so much Francine–” “Felicia” “Felicia,” Darcy smiled her widest, sharpest, smile, stunning the woman to star struck silence. “You know, I was looking into Lake Ontario’s fish community for ideas, you’ve inspired me to make that extra step.” The woman squeaked in sheer embarrassed surprise as she was ushered away.
“There’s got to be at least one mutated goldfish,” she turned to Hyacinthe.
"Oh yes, plenty. They're invasive. Terrible vibes," Hyacinthe responded conspiratorially before turning back to the crowd and offering a saccharine smile.
Once nobody was looking, however, he turned back to Darcy and suggested, "What about an anglerfish mermaid? Lures men to their doom and absorbs them into her body. People like horror romance, right?"
Darcy smacked Hyacinthe in the chest, expression severe. “Where have you been all my life?”
There were excited titters from the few who lingered despite the fact that the store manager had announced twice now, that the signing was over. One man in particular was staring wide eyed at Hyacinthe in fact from his poorly concealed spot by the Self-Help section.
“You ever thought about co-writing one of these babies?”
Hy opened his eyes wide. "Me? You're the genius. I've just had a couple thousand years to gather a collection of fucked up shower thoughts—" (He caught the man staring and quickly added, "—figuratively speaking!"
Like a shark, Darcy grinned. Blood in the water. “What is erotica but the fucked up shower thoughts put to paper. See, she knows what I’m talking about,” a tall woman, decorated in some incredibly sexy piercings, gave Darcy a wink before she sauntered out of the store with her friend.
“What could your pen name be…”
"Hmmmm. I'm open to suggestions. 'Hyacinthe' doesn't really work for erotica unless you're looking to invoke the patron saint of pierogi. What do you think? Horse pun? Drag name? Hit me."
Darcy considered this. “O. R. Neigh?” Was that too on the nose? “Gal Ope?”
From across the room, the man by the self-help book section got brave. “Um, Dick Matize?”
Hy chuckled. "Oh no, I don't need RichDick to hate me any more than they already do." He watched the man warily, unsure if he was a threat to Darcy—he took his job as bodyguard very seriously.
Darcy snickered as she packed up, shooting the strange man a wink for his creative effort. “Tough break Benny. See you next signing?”
Benny nodded, flushing in embarrassment or delight from being acknowledged, and scuttled out the door.
“He was eyeing you up, Hay Girl Hay,” she tried the name as she elbowed her bodyguard in the side.
Hyacinthe blinked at her, not really understanding immediately. "I thought he was going to steal your books." he admitted, slightly guiltily.
That sent Darcy into another fit of cackles. “He’s harmless, he just really wants to fuck monsters and thinks I, in my divine and prolific writing power, is his best ticket to exactly that.” She waggled her eyebrows at her friend before slapping him on the back.
“I’d say that was successful. What do you think?”
"I think it went great! Everyone adores you! No surprise there. What does it feel like to be universally beloved?" Hyacinthe says, but then pauses and circles back, curious.
"Do monsterfuckers count unicorns as monsters they'd like to fuck?"
“Monsterfuckers count anything non-human as monsters they’d like to fuck,” Darcy explained, the definition itself a favourite Reddit and therefore booktok topic in her industry. But seriously, were these people trying to get doctorates in fictional fucking? Who gave a shit.
“But you're not wrong. You're in the fantasy genre of boning, you mystical babe you,” she kissed his cheek and gestured for him to follow her out of the bookstore.
“You think you'll ever go back to humans?”
Hy returned the peck and followed her out of the shop. "I don't know. It seems… unwise," he said, wincing a little as he did so. "Can anything ever work out between an immortal and a mortal? Like, I know my species has a thing for them, but I mean, look how well that's worked out for us." He gestured around at all the non-existent unicorns walking among them.
"Maybe I should only date immortals. They're the only ones who wouldn't have that as an excuse to kill me. But I don't know, they'd probably just find some other reason. People are fucked?"
“People are fucked,” the leprechaun agreed, and it wasn't like she had much evidence to support the opposite. Darcy had a large amount of acquaintances, fans, and friendly types (and an even larger number of ex somethings), but only one real friend. Hyacinthe. And she'd only just gotten him back.
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m super into the whole revenge, homicide vibe you've got going on, but,” she shrugged. “I think you want to love too much to deny yourself for too long.”
Hyacinthe sighed wistfully. "Eternity's a long time to go without ever loving someone again," he said, before he caught—and cursed—himself. "Fuck! WHY am I made like this? It's gross. Why can't I just be a hedonistic libertine like all the cool kids?"
The leprechaun’s answering cackle was loud enough to draw the ire of a passing mother and child.
“Because you're good,” she looped her arm through his, their height difference comical despite her boots. “Literally pure of heart. And what's purer than love,” well, not how she wrote it, but the Disney version was out there somewhere.
“You could get a piercing, something dangly that says I’ll fuck your mom after I fuck you up with this rainbow horn here. Can you whip it out like a switch blade?”
"I can't get a piercing. It just heals right back up," Hyacinthe replied, a little bit pouty. "I can kind of whip it out like a switchblade—" A woman passed, making a disgusted face, and he needless, politely clarified, "We're talking about unicorn horns, not… that. Don't worry about it. Anyway, where were we—were you giving me style tips? Should I get a cool leather jacket or is that just setting potential dates up for disappointment?"
“I definitely think you could pull off leather,” she agrees loyally and makes a mental note to look into temporary tattoos - the glittery kind. “You could never set any date up for disappointment. I do think you should maybe make the side step over from humans. It's convenient how quickly they die if you're into the whole casual thing. But you’re not.”
"No, you're right. I'm done. I've given them an eternity to get their shit together as a species, and they've done nothing but disappoint me. Perhaps I'll try dating a gryphon. Now there's a respectable creature," Hyacinthe said hopefully, knowing all too well that love was rarely that simple. However, it was nice—even if only for a moment—to pretend that it was.
Darcy grinned in encouragement. “I happen to know a gryphon or two, single, and…okay one is definitely single so we can start there.”
She pinched his arm and waggled her bros at him. “Unless there's someone at the Society…”
"No, there's nobody there," Hy said quickly. "I think Valentine's Day was a reminder from the universe not to dip my pen in the company ink. Too much drama—and not even the fun kind. What about you?"
Darcy laughed off the question. “There are a whole lot of someone’s my love, all of them fine little eye candy.” And that was it. That's all it ever was.
Her smile was a little tight at the edges when she turned to nudge him across the street, and the fine February slush slapped against their boots. “You think you found your calling with this therapy thing?”
It was Hy's turn to laugh. "Oh, god no. Everyone knows I'm a fraud and a sham—including Maya. I'm shocked I haven't been fired yet. Who would take advice from me anyway? I'm immortal and I still don't have my shit together. I really don't know what to do with this… cursed bitch of an existence. People do like hanging out with the horses, but it has nothing to do with me, really."
Darcy rolled her eyes and stopped them so she could pull out a cigarette. “Wow, you throwing yourself a pity party over there? I highly doubt hot doc thinks you're a fraud, idjit. You think I’m stupid or something? What do you think I write in my little notebook there,” she inhaled deeply, the end of the cigarette seemingly lighting itself . “I notice, Thomas. They like you. The horse thing is a nice bonus.”
Hyacinthe scoffed—he was throwing himself a pity party, but she still didn't have to call him out like that! How dare!
"Maybe I'm just the department eye-candy. They covet my impeccable taste in fashion," he said, trying to recover.
Darcy would give him that. “That's why the walls bled all over you, place is jealous as fuck.”
She took a long hit off her cigarette, exhaling a plume of smoke with just as much commitment.
“You uh,” she fiddled with the thing, not quite meeting Hyacinth’s eyes. “You wouldn't just up and leave though, right?”
"Of course not," Hyacinthe replied, also not looking her in the eye. "You know I'd tell you, at the very least."
Cool. Coolcoolcool. “Grand,” she winked, and with a roll of her shoulders, seemed to snap back to herself. “Now, let’s get obliterated and judge everyone at the Society’s fashion sense. If anyone deserved to get bled on, it was definitely Cynthia in payroll.”