I Deliberately Misinterpret The Nature Of An Agreement

[summerdude]

Galahad probably didn't expect Magnus to come pounding on his door in the middle of the day when they agreed Magnus would try sleeping on his own, especially since Magnus decided pretty quickly that he wanted to sleep outside again (but on purpose because he prefers it, not because it feels like the only option that doesn't end with the walls closing in on him). But here Magnus is, anyway, in the middle of the day, knocking loud enough that he has to force himself to take a step back so he doesn't break the door down.

"Dude, it's me, I need you," he calls, just so Galahad knows for sure it's him, or whatever. "You're in there, right? Galahad?"

Comments

[onthewillowsthere]

"March eighth." He rubs his watchband again. "Percival says it grows almost as slowly as trees do."

[summerdude]

"Man, I really gotta make a point to learn more about plants. Especially since I'm, like, Plant Guy and everything."

[onthewillowsthere]

"What's your favorite?"

[summerdude]

"Daffodils," Magnus says, immediately. "Especially the two-tone ones? But when I was younger I liked the ones you could do stuff with to make them look like things. Dutchman's britches, bleeding hearts, stuff like that."

[onthewillowsthere]

A little smile. "Percival calls them Cennin Pedr. They're called Lent lily, too."

[summerdude]

"Flowers have so many names," Magnus sighs. "I used to steal daffodils from the gardens when I was homeless. A reminder that the shitty Boston winter... and spring... was winding down."

[onthewillowsthere]

"Is summer better for you because of your father?"

[summerdude]

"It actually doesn't make the biggest difference for me," Magnus says. "I think I'm might be a little more resistant to the winter blues because of him, actually? But the slush and salt get really gross. It's harder to stay clean in winter."

[onthewillowsthere]

"Salt?"

[summerdude]

"They put it on the roads to melt the snow so that -- oh gods. Has anyone told you about cars yet?"

[onthewillowsthere]

Galahad shakes his head slowly.

[summerdude]

"They drive," Magnus says, very helpfully, and then shakes his head. "It's like a, um, carriage? Wagon? Thing? But it's a machine, and it has a roof, and it runs on gas. Or electricity, sometimes. And when it's snowy out, they're more prone to accidents. Like crashes. So they put salt on the roads to stop that."

[onthewillowsthere]

"Like a truck? Gideon told me about trucks."

[summerdude]

"Oh, yeah, trucks are a kind of car."

[onthewillowsthere]

"She explained truck testicles."

[summerdude]

"She explained," Magnus blinks twice, "what?"

[onthewillowsthere]

"Testicles for trucks. It's a joke. Because they can't breed."

[summerdude]

The only cars Magnus has been in in the past eleven years have been police cars or police car equivalents (i.e., Uncle Randolph's). Perhaps he'd understand better if he wasn't Walking, Goat-Drawn Cart, or World Tree Guy. "Huh," he says, picturing actual testicles hanging down from somewhere on an eighteen-wheeler. His mind's eye supplies hair. He wrinkles his nose.

[onthewillowsthere]

"She tells good jokes," mildly.

[summerdude]

"She has the vibe," Magnus agrees, a little put out that Gideon hasn't ever really told him jokes (but, of course, thrilled that Galahad has gotten some). "I don't think she likes me very much."

[onthewillowsthere]

"Really?" tilting his head in confusion.

[summerdude]

"Really really," Magnus confirms. He's back to being sanguine about it already. He's never been universally liked; he doesn't need to start now.

[onthewillowsthere]

"She grew up in a nunnery. She understands a lot of things."

[summerdude]

"Yeah? Like what?" It's a curious question, not a bitchy one.

[onthewillowsthere]

"She understands what it's like to be meant for something, and to be lost here. To struggle for purpose."