[Blind Date] Icarus & Syrup

Darkened atmospheric lighting, smooth jazz playing from the mounted speakers overhead, and rows of tables set to candle light. The blind date trends had pulled in just about every dining establishment in Burrowgatory's city center. Finding a place to meet up with other potential partners was but a leisurely walk down any populated street. A consent forum to fill here, a compatibility survey there. Meeting new buns was as easy as leaving your options open.

The booths lining the center of this particular establishment were packed full of couples meeting for the first time. Some acting more sensual than others, taking full advantage of the privacy walls placed between each table to explore their assigned partners. Amidst the filled seats, Icarus sat alone. A pair of earbuds inserted snugly under their grey hood. They continued shuffling through the songs on the new CD they'd brought along, it was fortunate that the player wasn't skipping despite sitting sideways inside the pocket of their hoodie.

The compatibility survey was, by far, the hardest part for Syrup to manage. While he's certainly made his fair share of preferences throughout his life, he makes the most of himself by a very 'enh' attitude about... just about everything. He'll eat whatever is put in front of him. He'll wear whatever his current fling wants him to don. He'll talk and stand and bend over and watch and play whatever, as long as whoever he is seeing will help him with the one thing he WON'T do: pay rent. Or bills. Or groceries. Or get a job... Or, really, take care of himself in any way that isn't waxing, trimming his hair, and painting his nails.

He checks yes and no randomly on the list, scribbles a few lines about how he's just looking for a good, short time from someone willing to help a poor (literally) lonely bunny out. Someone must be desperate enough in this burrow during matentines of all seasons that he'll get matched and a free dinner out of it. Dinner and breakfast if he's lucky.

He takes his time on the night he's meant to go meet his pair dolling himself up in the mirror. He taps a pink lipstick over the middle of his lips to give them a kissable plumpness, straightens his hair until his bob is sharp and perfect, slips his feet into a pair of heels and his torso into a tight, shimmery silk dress, and makes sure the slit on the side is extra high to show off the glint of glass around his stomach. Cigarette between his lips, he sets off on the nearest shuttle to the restaurant.

-

Syrup pauses at the table in front of him... and the bun, completely "swaddled" in a hoodie, occupying one side of the booth. Syrup plucks the cigarette from his mouth and places that hand on his hip. "Hey. Scram. I've got a hot date coming tonight and you're in their seat."

The tempo of the track was slow. Sad almost. The groaning plucks of the guitar strings and delay in the vocals was haunting but also beautiful. It would almost have lulled Icarus to sleep if not for their goal tonight being set so steadily at the forefront of their thoughts. Their work on properly communicating their thoughts and feelings had led to pressure to take a step out into the public eye by themselves. This time without making it about work.

That didn't mean they would change who they were. Being comfortable and staying calm were still their first priorities. But now their second would be to make an effort to meet a friend. They had even filled out their compatibility survey to be so vaguely unbiased, they could match with just about any stranger the staff could pair them with. Hopefully whoever was chosen wasn't too disappointed with the outcome, although they'd do their part in covering for the meal regardless the outcome of the night.

The scent of cigarette smoke was briefly apparent. But as Icarus listened to the song droning on, the smell grew thicker and caused them to open their eyes just long enough to glance to their side. They didn't expect to see someone standing beside the table, pulling one earbud from their ear and letting it dangle beside their ears. They dug into the opposite pocket to their CD player for the thick pack of note cards they had been working on with Primrose. Shuffling through the colour coded options before holding out two to the impatient bun.

Meeting. Dinner.

Syrup taps his heel against the floor, beating out a rhythm of urgency. He is barely ever on time as it is. That means his date is likely late or will being walking through the front door any minute now. When the bun doesn't respond but takes the time to pull out a stack of papers, he puts the cigarette back in his mouth and throws his hands up in the air. Great. What is this going to be - oh. Are they... talking to him?

"Uh. Yeah. I'm also meeting someone here for dinner," he says around his smoke. "They reserved this spot for-- ooohhh don't tell me."

Icarus looked up at him for a moment. He already didn't seem to enjoy the idea of this date very much, which made them feel a bit guilty. They didn't go out in their doll form very often, preferring the more compact bun form whenever possible. The rules hadn't stated that any one type was required, but it was obvious that most participants would be looking for a physically attractive partner for the night. Hormones around this season did always seem to bring out the more lustful thoughts in those around them.

To hopefully diffuse this issue, Icarus looked through the note cards again. Pulling out two more.

You. Hungry?

Syrup turns around away from this bun. He puts his hand on his forehead, pinching down hard on his temples and dragging that hand down toward the bridge of his nose to ease the build up of tension that's bubbling there. He truly didn't even mind the misunderstanding, so long as he went home with a full stomach and an equally full wallet, but now he's got himself started off on the wrong hoof. If he has to pay for a meal at TallHorn of all places... Well. He might go slightly more insane.

He spins back to face his blind date, sets his bag down on his side of the table, and tucks his dress between his knees to cover his dignity as he slides into his seat. He plucks the pink cigarette from his mouth, pushes the burnt end into the available ash tray, and sets another to the side waiting for him after dinner. He flicks his eyes down to the notecard, back up to the bun holding it, and sighs. Syrup nods.

"Yes. Incredibly."

Icarus couldn't help cracking the corner of their mouth upwards in a smile. They reached to retrieve the one of the menus they'd shoved to the side, sliding it across the table. They already knew what was to their liking. As for their date, that was uncertain. He looked very pretty, although wondering if it was their place to say so considering how little effort they put into their outfit.

They took a quick glance down at the cards before procuring one with gold coloured accents.

My name is Icarus.

They shuffled back through the cards. Although this was much harder than just keeping quiet, trying to form sentences with these cards was more like solving a puzzle than an actual conversation. Which colours went in what order. Which cards were good enough for full sentences. They'd tried to cover all their bases before the date, but carrying around a hundred coloured note cards would quickly become overwhelming.

There is the card they needed.

Your name?

Syrup crosses one leg over the other as he takes the menu from the bun. He spreads it out in front of him, sets a nail against the laminated pages, and starts scanning. His top foot bounces, swirling the smoke in his heel around like a snow globe. He flicks his eyes up to read the cards as they're shuffled through and flipped, taking a second to genuinely admire the variety of color markers he sees as they're flipped. Those must mean something, yes?

"Wonderful to meet you, Icarus," he says back, extending a dainty hand out for Icarus' hoof. "Syrup. Just Syrup. It's somewhat of a... Nickname name." He flicks his fingers around the restaurant, and then to their table. "What makes you seek a blind date?"

Taking the hand offered, they can't help but consider the question posed with more thought than formality. Knitting their brow and focusing on the question. They could say it was to train their communication skills, but they didn't need to go on a blind date to do so. They had people they knew casually that would be happy to help. It could also be to meet new people, which was half true considering that they met plenty of musicians for work. But. Maybe.

Icarus looked over the cards again. Setting aside a couple options to mull over for a final answer. Then shuffling through those cards until they were satisfied with the combination.

Alone. Hard. Meeting. Friends.

Syrup scans the nail of his finger along the list of menu offerings, flickering his eyes up every now and again to make sure Icarus is still flipping through cards and not waiting for him to notice something. He whistles some song that's playing over the speakers in the background. If he can still convince his date that he's a catch and worth paying top price for... Maybe he can swing some of the higher end bites from the menu today. A tofusteak and milkweed alfredo sounds appetizing. With some sparkling dark soda to offset it- He folds the menu over once he's made his choice and lifts his head again, delighted to see that his date has finished selecting his words.

"Mh. You're lonely and want friends but you can't make them?" he surmises from the assortment. "Yeah I think half the burrow is lonely. You'd be surprised what people are willing to toss over just for someone to snuggle them at night. A burger and a pack of cigs to let someone use my lap as a pillow? Not uncommon... So uh. You're in good company. If that's anything." He shifts his crossed legs so the opposite heel is up.

"That's all you're in for? A friend? And you were just hoping whoever showed up liked you enough to keep hanging out from time to time?" He pauses, thinking. "Don't half mind the silence if I'm being honest. Some people like to run their mouths."

Icarus nods along to Syrup's interpretation, and a small smirk tweaks their lips as he describes the kind of company that he's found himself in. It was clear that he'd be an interesting bun to get along with, and while cuddling up to someone is a sweet gesture, they weren't exactly looking to pay for it. Having company for the night was more than enough.

Searching the cards for one of the gold accents, they pulled out a new one.

I like to listen.

Shuffling through the cards more precisely now, they dug out a few more words.

You. Work. People?

They pushed the 'You' and 'People' cards together a few times to try alluding to working with people, though not writing a 'With' card was making the thick stack of paper seem even more inconsistent. Hopefully the message was clear.

"Oo~" Syrup says at the next gold card, in the flattest yet somehow genuine tone possible. "Those are the important ones, huh? Things you say a lot? Your name. Your interests. 'Where is the bathroom'..."

He turns his attention to the room, lifts an arm into the air, and waves his hand in a dainty fashion unit he summons the attention of a member of the waitstaff. He looks back to Icarus as the waiter makes their way through the last few tables.

"Ennhh," Syrup responds to the question at hand. "I don't work. But yeah, technically I guess. I mostly just couch surf and offer kisses and blowies to whoever is looking for it at the time. Easy way to get a basket of fries in you and a nice bed under you. Ooh. Damn a basket of fries sounds great actually... Tch. I'll change what I was gonna get... You got a card for food or does pointing at the menu usually work for you?"

Once again Icarus ends up nodding at the observation. They tried to make the important cards easier to spot if the stack ever got jumbled. The rest being coded for nouns, verbs, pronouns, and a few other pleasantries that Primrose had added to the already weighty card stack.

The waiter arrived at the table in as timely of a fashion as the dense crowd would allow. "Good evening. I hope the atmosphere has been enjoyable so far. Is there anything I can get started for you two? Drinks, appetizers, perhaps you have a wine selection in mind?" They pulled a notebook from their apron pocket, ready to jot down their order.

Well. Better time than any to answer the question. Icarus pulled their menu open to the exact page that they had looked over before. A simple house salad with grilled tofu strips. They used a card containing the words 'This Please' to underline the item on the menu.

The waiter nodded understandingly, quickly scribbling on the page before turning their attention to Syrup. Icarus nodded towards Syrup to get whatever he would like.

Syrup leaned back in his seat to wait, wishing he had a stick of gum or something to shove in his mouth when he did. He nods to himself at Icarus tapping the menu indeed - and raises his eyebrows at the card that goes along with it. Wooooow. Thorough planner.

When the waiter gives him their attention, Syrup puts every single ounce of his energy into making a prettyboy smile at the waiter and batting his lashes. No other reason than to show Icarus the kind of date he's landed, really. "Tofusteak, medium-soft. A basket of fries and a Diet Dr. Bunny. Thank you."

And when they're gone, Syrup immediately drops the face and returns his neutral, vacant look to Icarus. “We have all night, I guess… Let’s keep going. Show me what else you’ve got.”

Icarus was happy to humour their date for the night. Thinking for a moment, they figured it would be easier to lay out all of the unique cards on the table to get rid of some of the mystery. The amount of paper in their possession seemed impressive, but it was far from a dictionary. Syrup was equally as happy, for once, to lean over, read the cards, and play around with them over dinner for the rest of the evening.