chained-by-secrets

[chained-by-secrets]

"...Negative." Parker replied. "I'm employed by him and I believe he might still harbor strong affections for his previous wife." Not that Parker was a gossip, but he still didn't know even after all this time that his observations could often be taken, twisted, and spread further as gossip. "You were correct in that I pull weeds but... I'm not sure what you mean by 'stroking trees'." His tone reflected how unsure he was repeating that terminology.

The groundskeeper remained sturdy in his stance, with his feet half a foot apart with his hands now moving to his belt as Nikolas came up. "I wasn't asking about Leon." He mentioned, his brow twinging briefly, subtly, not with any sympathy or some other emotion he didn't understand was passing through his mind, but rather another acknowledgement. He knew he said the obvious thing most of the time. "How have... you been?" He repeated his previous question, keeping his steady stare on Barry. "Are you unhappier now? Are you still... fine, but less fine?" A Parker-reliant pause. "Did you... want him to move back in?"

The man talks like he's about to perform dissection, but it's always a little expected from him—Barry knows that he acts more awkward than a fifth grade dance some of the time, and half of it's all because Barry likes poking at people. For a man who's built like Lurch from the Addams Family, he acts like a cowed dog, to which he never does take any issue with. He likes a little submission in a conversation, especially when the man has a few inches on him. And with the man's loyalty to the estate—he half expects him to be possessed by its ghost.

"Lonely? And I don't suppose you keep him company now, do you? Or are you still stroking trees and pulling weeds?" Parker making friends is hard to see, but not unheard of—but having only seen him in the aftermath of the old house's... drama, he doesn't know how he's socialized. "And I'm fine. Niko—Leon moved in. Still won't sign the divorce papers, but that's... love for you."

#Parker // Barry

[chained-by-secrets]

Patrick Wilson in Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom (2023)

#The Keeper // Vision #//too bad blond Parker will never happen #//but the facial expressions still stand

[chained-by-secrets]

Who: Parker and Linus (@illucides

"...It's been a while." Ever-truthful and vigilant.

Parker had been informally invited to the screen premier of the movie that Linus had greenlit, which he didn't go to for multiple reasons he assumed were obvious at this point. Even if it wasn't about that night and it would've been uncomfortable to see his likeness portrayed on a screen by a decidedly-more-attractive actor, Parker simply didn't do movies.

But just because he didn't do movies and he had been quietly steady about his input regarding the film, he was almost more upset at the crew that disregarded his space during those weeks of filming for 'authentic shots'. He supposed if nothing else, his gardening skills were also put on the big screen for everyone to see. ...The thought knotted something up inside him every time it came up in his mind.

And he was... worried. Maybe. For Linus. He had been watching all of the Walsh's as they flitted through town - not a parent, never a parent, but as someone who had been there the most consistently, or so he thought. Parker didn't go anywhere, even if it was to the chagrin of others. Parker kept the estate looking presentable on the outside even if it rotted and fell apart because of mismanagement and apathy on the inside. Leon had stagnated in prison (or an institution, or wherever he had been released from), but Linus was the other child who had the most developed personality of the kids when 25 years ago transpired.

High strung. Neurotic, with the controversy of the film not having done him any favors. So Parker opted to visit him at the movie theater, close to closing time so his massive frame wouldn't have been stared at by more than what he hoped to be a few people, and asked for Linus. "How... have you been."

#Confidant // Parker and Linus #//lemme know if you'd like for me to edit!

[chained-by-secrets]

Exchanging one term he didn't know with another wasn't helpful but fortunately she seemed to explain what it was afterwards. 'Subtle brag' it was then, though part of him wondered... if that wasn't something everyone could do. Parker's knowledge on the intricate mechanisms of the human mind, on average, left a little to be desired. And regardless, he didn't pursue the thought further. For all he knew, that was something everyone could do and no one bothered to tell him about it until just now.

Her explanation on the differentiation between hobbies and something one 'liked', however, gave Parker a little more pause, which was reflected in how he had stopped silently when they reached their destination. A nearby street lamp, the first of many down the street where a decidedly more lively civilization could be seen twinkling in the background, bathed the two in light and as Parker contemplated her reasoning, he rotated the shovel absently in his hand. "How you describe a hobby sounds more akin to a job." He remarked. Goal-oriented project, a commitment compared to the spontaneity of a like or interest. "By that measure, I have no hobbies, but I'll catalogue your explanation for further reference." Blue eyes looked down at the diminutive woman now illuminated by the garish yellow of an incandescent overhead light. Pretty. Youthful, with dark features obscured by shadows in a way he was sure some found alluring.

"This is where we part ways." He said. "I still recommend exercising caution when traveling alone at night." With that, he gave the stranger a bow of his head. "Have a good evening, miss." And without further ado, he turned to skulk back off into the darkness.

That would make sense, for him to be a groundskeeper, though she did not ask for further details. If he was one to guard or keep people from trespassing; that would explain his demeanor and familiarity with the paths and area here. "alright."

Chuckling, "I suppose you could call it eidetic memory—the ability to see something once and then recall it perfectly by memory." not that she would think he would find that interesting. However, that is something she didn't reveal to most people. It was how she was able to navigate herself during the crash. The woods was a difficult place and easy to get lost in, and she did her best to survive. Her journal and drawings was enough to keep her sane.

"that would rely on whether or not you enjoy the nature of the activity." she continued to walk with him "Both you would pursue it involuntarily, and it provides pleasure and satisfaction. The contrast suggests that hobbies are more of a commitment. Hobbies tend to have goal-oriented projects, meanwhile what you like may be more spontaneous." she smiled as she turned to him "I would say it's a hobby for you, rather than something you like."

#Parker // Evelyn #//we can end it here if you'd like! #//or if you wanted to reply once more that's fine too!

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"I'm confused. You said I was cool, now you're suggesting that people don't like... 'well, actually' guys." Parker's brow furrowed slightly, though someone who knew him well would've been able to see that he was mostly repeating what Max had said back to him in a subconscious attempt to get the younger man to explain what he meant.

If he knew Max as well as he thought, though, an explanation didn't seem likely. It wasn't that he didn't think Max thought, of course... but rather it seemed that Max didn't prefer thinking too much about things that didn't interest him. And that his attention span was far lower than what was considered appropriate for someone his age.

Parker wasn't a psychologist. Max could do what he wanted, or not do what he didn't want to do, which was probably explain whether Parker was "cool" or a "'well, actually' guy". "...Yes. They can." As per usual, Parker didn't know if the question was rhetorical or literal so he answered the only way he knew, which was literally. "You're bold to assume to be the only person in town with your measure of stubbornness." He added, surprisingly sage for someone whose dialogue consisted of mostly three word answers and obvious statements and observations. "It might be in your best interest to post these in more stationary locations." Not a moving bus, in other words.

"sure, some things." he relents easily on that, which is a good thing. there's one. drugs are usually pretty easy to get, that's two. surely someone more sane could come up with something better, but that's where max's mind starts to stall out. "hey—don't be a well, actually guy, parker. nobody likes the well, actually guy. besides, vandalism is barely a crime." the police around here certainly have better things to do than go around ripping posters off of buses, anyway. at least, he would hope so—apparently there's a murderer on the loose! "but that's why i put multiple on the bus. people can't tear them all off, can they?"

#Forced Friends // Parker and Max

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"I see." Parker didn't see. He didn't understand raffles, still, aside from the possibility of someone getting something they likely didn't need. And despite his supposed lack of imagination, he could envision Becca winning this alleged bike, not doing anything with it, and depositing it at the Estate where Mr. Vergara would absolutely refuse to get rid of it and it would sit in Parker's tool shed, collecting rust, dust and the empty promises of someone doing something with it someday.

Then again, if it was "gifted" to Mr. Vergara, there was an equally as likely chance that he would use it himself. Parker supposed that was preferable. "I was contemplating leaving." He replied honestly, simply, but even as he answered he placed his hands on his thick leather utility belt, indicating that he wasn't actually planning on walking away mid-conversation. Not anymore.

"But..." He faltered, unable to come up with something he could do now that he was there. Faces looked familiar, but distant. He could hear noises even through ears that were as insufficient as his, laughter, liveliness, fellowship. The intimacy of conversation and camaraderie made Parker's breath draw slightly shallower on occasion as he realized again that he had possessed possibly two of the worst combined traits with him - being eye-catchingly tall and absolutely hating being in too many eyes at once.

"But we can... Get food. From... one of the... places that dispenses food." Was Parker talking about a food truck? A vending machine? One of the nearby eateries? Who knew, not him but he was still trying to wrangle the flitting thoughts of unused bicycles, loud chatter and wasting Becca's time and energy under control.

Everything seemed so obvious whenever Parker spoke. Of course there wasn't any reason why she couldn't still get her name in. It wasn't as if the winners had been drawn yet. "Well, they might have a cut-off time or something. I'll look if we get over there." Plus, she wanted to see if any of the other prizes were worth her attention. Just a couple years ago she won a dartboard and Becca was hoping to leave with something this year.

"Right, no qualifications needed. I had the chance to buy entry tickets sooner and I probably should have, but they'll have them there too." The raffle's coordinator had offered when they came to pick up the Inn's contribution, but it didn't seem urgent without a discount of some amount. Those things can add up fast if the right prize is offered.

And what the hell would she do with a bike anyway? There wasn't going to be any room inside her place or a place to store it outside. The kid was way too young for it now, but in ten years? Maybe she could keep it there at Roseland, leave it for Nic and Parker to use...

"Was there anything you were thinking about doing? I know you don't get a lot of time away from the Estate, so I won't mind if you want to stop for a detour."

#Parker // Becca #Event 1 // Tinder Man

[chained-by-secrets]

The drink from Luke didn't slip past Parker, prompting the taller man to move his own drink just a little further away. He was never pushy about telling Luke what and what not to do - everything Parker said regarding personal advice was always delivered with the same objectivism that coated everything else he said - but he was also observant through the years, the emotions from the other man or lack thereof. Coping mechanisms. Drinking in excess the way Luke had a proclivity to was superfluous at the best of times and self-destructive otherwise.

Parker's... friend leaned towards the second option almost always, though he never thought it intentional. ...Maybe he was an insufficient friend if he thought about how if Luke asked for the bottle, he'd hesitantly give it to him.

Luke's answer prompted a small quirk of Parker's brow in silent response; they were getting up there in years, to be sure, but part of the groundskeeper wondered what had changed this year in particular to pull Luke into the town's ritualistic behavior, even if just for a night, an hour, a moment. "Indeed. If that's what seems right to you, then you should partake." And Parker could work, not at the festival, by himself at the haunted estate. Where he belonged.

"And you are not." He assured the other man. "Though I understand if you'd like to conclude this engagement."

Luke didn't expect any other answer - he knew Parker wasn't a public gathering kind of person in general, much less a festival person. It seemed like the older they got, the more they agreed that it was more of a nuisance than anything, what with all the out-of-towners and roads being blocked off and calm waters whipped up into white-caps.

He noticed how Parker took one of the beers wordlessly offered to him, wondered if it was because he intended to drink it or if he was just playing keep-away. Some part of him appreciated the gesture - it was nice to know someone cared enough - but the other part of him continued the silent warfare, taking a sizable drink from the bottle in front of him.

"I thought about it," Luke answered honestly, knowing how strange it'd sound - his involvement in spiritual things tended to be limited. "I've never thrown anything in. Might be fun to, y'know. Get lost in the uproar, cheer it on, say goodbye to the old and hello to the new or whatever." In a twitch, Luke then checked his phone, patting at the wrong pocket before finding it in his other. "Ah geez, I'm not keeping you, am I?"

#Childhood Friends // Parker and Luke

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"Agreed." Then again, as he mentioned, he wasn't sure how people got around in general wearing shoes like that - they were a far cry from his firm, calf-high steel-toed boots that he was never seen out of. Parker rotated slightly to better face the detective as the latter stepped to the boundary line, and started to follow him when he resumed walking.

A soft inhale punctuated the silence Parker offered as an immediate response to the detective's question as he glanced up yet again in recollection. "Eight days ago." He said after a further gap of silence, blue eyes looking back and forth in an action suggesting he was reading a book now. "Not back here, though. She was on the sidewalk." A pause. "In any case, I'd imagine if that's what she wears on a near-daily basis, the likelihood of her hauling a body to a... dumping ground is relatively low." He suggested rather dryly, in his own subtle way.

Not that he didn't like being questioned, but he had things to do.

well. that wasn't fucking weird at all. unless she was some kind of maid that was cutting through the edge of the roseland estate to get to work, ari didn't see any reason for her to be coming and going with such a large time gap in between. and if it was a regular routine like a job, it seemed like wright was analytical enough to note if she came through in the same window of time.

"doesn't seem like great ground to be wearing heels in." what did he know, maybe it was easy when that was all you kept on your feet. catwoman and claire dearling would approve and do it (at least that's what the internet told him), so he wasn't going to say it was impossible - he'd leave that up to cemre, give her something to do, perhaps.

moving closer to the edge of the property, ari's gaze was stuck on the ground as he walked, searching for clues. "when was the last time you saw her?" because depending on the weather and the frequency of her trips, her choice of footwear seemed perfect for leaving shoe prints... if she was real.

#Parker // Ari

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1, 2, 8, 13

Ask Box Meme!

What is your character's biggest fear?

He wouldn't know how to explain it but Parker's deepest fear is expressing "too much humanity" or, worded differently, he's afraid of being emotional but for a reason that's not accepted or "correct". He's so quick to emotionally shut down and become robot because there wasn't ever a way for him to express how he really felt emotionally without there being some repercussion or being told that he was making a big deal out of nothing so he learned when he was super young just... not to emote about anything.

2. What is your character's favorite memory?

When he was a child, his parents took him all the way to the Missouri Botanical Garden and I think some small part of him still rides that high.

8. Does your character hate anyone? Why?

I don't think Parker hates people insomuch as he really doesn't like the bad things they do and the negative decisions they make. He doesn't even hate the Vampire of Antioch. But I can't say he won't ever hate anyone, there just hasn't been anyone for him to personally hate yet regardless of the reason.

13. What would your character die for?

Item-wise, nothing because he understands that his value as a human is greater than any material possession. That being said, he'd die for any of the Walsh kids, he absolutely would for Luke, and his mother. But really, his sense of self-preservation when strangers are in danger is pretty skewed, too. He doesn't seek death or anything, but out of the scale of value, he automatically places other people's lives as having objectively higher value than himself.

#The Keeper // Ideas

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ask box meme

(send "random" and I'll pick a few with rng!)

1: What is your character's biggest fear? 2: What is your character's favorite memory? 3: What is your character's least favorite memory? 4: Does anyone have a crush on your character? Is your character aware of this? 5: Describe your character's dream date. 6: What is your character's sexual orientation? 7: How does your character feel about their name? 8: Does your character hate anyone? Why? 9: How does your character feel about religion? 10. Would your character ever kill someone? 11: How did your character meet their best friend? 12: How would/does your character feel about roller coasters? 13: What would your character die for? 14: What is the cutest thing your character has ever done? 15: What music genre would your character listen to? 16: What other fictional characters remind you of your character? 17: Does your character have any irrational fears? 18: How would your character feel about having their life recorded? 19: What is your character's deepest, darkest secret? 20: What is the most surprising thing about your character? 21: Is your character flexible? 22: What is the worst thing your character has ever done? 23: Is your character morally gray or black or white? 24: What prejudices does your character have? 25: Would you want to hang out with your character? 26: What is your favorite headcanon for your character? 27: What would be the worst way for your character to die? 28: What pet would your character like to have? 29: What would be your character's favorite food? 30: Would your character have any hobbies? 31: What social media would your character use? 32: What does your character look like? 33: In what ways is your character like you? 34: What is cliche about your character? 35: What is unique about your character? 36: Does anyone want to harm your character? 37: Do people have justified grudges against your character? 38: What role does your character play in their story? 39: What would be your character's niche on Tumblr? 40: What would be your character's favorite school subject? 41: Would your character want to have any children? 42: What would be your character's dream career? 43: What is your character insecure about? 44: What is your character proud of? 45: What would your character change about themselves? 46: Would you want to trade places with your character? 47: What fandoms would your character be in? 48: How would your character type? 49: How does your character stand politically? 50: What is your favorite thing about your character? 51: What is your character's favorite animal? 52: How would your character act in gym class? 53: What clubs would your character join? 54: What is the saddest thing about your character's life? 55: Would your character do the Ice Bucket Challenge? 56: What's one of your character's quirks? 57: How would your character feel about feminism? 58: Is your character dorky or more athletic? 59: What is your least favorite thing about your character? 60: If you could title your character's life, what would you title it?

#The Keeper // Meme Day

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Patrick Wilson in Stretch (2014)

#The Keeper // Vision

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"...I'm sure." Parker said, not to placate Max though it was likely for a different reason than how it could've been interpreted. He was sure that plenty of people went through those alleyways just as he was sure that those people were either homeless, muggers or drug runners. He was also sure that Max probably knew his share of those types.

"..." A small sound of contemplation escaped the back of Parker's throat. A sigh without sighing. "Some good things in life are easy." Several things came to mind, even if they were nonstandard and Parker didn't comprehend that just because they were easy for him didn't mean that they were easy in general. "But I wouldn't consider putting multiple posters on a moving bus to be one of those things." A pause. "People will tear them down, anyway. Depending on location, this is technically vandalism."

"hey, plenty of people go through these alleyways!" not usually the kind of people that you would want to show up anywhere at all, let alone at something you're proud of... but max is going for quantity over quality. even sober, his sporadic work ethic leaves a lot to be desired—high off his ass as he is, he ends up looking like a loon. "parker, nothing good in life is easy. sometimes you just have to take the bull by the horns and jump on that fucking bus, you know?" but he probably doesn't know, not because he's ignorant but because max is just so far outside the norm that not even other oddballs can generally understand him. he's in a league all his own. "but to answer your question, uh... probably not. but if i don't get enough out there, the assholes will just tear 'em all down."

#Forced Friends // Parker and Max

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'Never get too comfortable, boy.' His father reminded him as blue eyes darted briefly to the ankle bracelet before staring at Leon once more, now icy and robotic as he allowed more of what Leon said to settle in his mind. He was reminded of 25 years ago, when the wounds were fresh on the minds of all the Walsh children who could remember the event as well as the town itself. Words and accusations exchanged, whispers that he could feel behind him as he went about his rituals and duties as though there hadn't been a triple murder. They told him that the place was being closed off. He disagreed, complied with their questions and investigation, and continued to work.

Leon wasn't there. Leon had broken the mirror then left everyone else to pick up the pieces, clean up his mess. The family had turned tribal, forming groups and barking at the other side for not doing things right. That was 25 years ago.

And there, left to the side, was quiet groundskeeper Parker. He had seen the Walsh's leave, different people coming and going. The carelessness with which everyone who asked him about the Estate treated what few emotions Parker might've had tucked deep inside, past the point where he could explain them sufficiently, act upon them with grace or emotional maturity of his own, was ever-present and overwhelming sometimes. But it wasn't about him. It was always about the Walsh's, or Nic, or Becca, or Bartholomew.

Parker had to be okay with that. 'You ain't got no friends. People only like someone like you around when they can get something out of you.' 'I, I, I. Me, me, me.' Listening more than speaking lent him great pattern recognition over the years.

But he didn't have to tolerate Leon's selfish comments. Emotional things that mattered little, though he struggled to understand why that struck such a nerve with him. "I shall remain here." He replied, then a pause. "Unless they tear it down, like you'd prefer." So rare were the remarks that Parker made to spite other people that when he did say them, the sounded inauthentic, almost dry-witted, as though he wasn't being serious. This time, he was being serious, but he also recalled those words specifically to reflect what Leon had said.

He didn't know why.

[END]

to leon, parker's statement comes as a complete surprise. sure, they were just talking about how parker couldn't imagine being anywhere else, that he had spent his entire life here, pretty much, and didn't belong anywhere else... but it's easy for that to pass him by. every one of the walshes is a little out of touch with the average person and self-centered to a fault—leon, who had spent too many years with only himself and his thoughts for company, is certainly not the exception to the rule. he isn't quick enough to hide it either, shock plain in his expression, then guarded hurt, then resignation. he may not realize all his faults, but he's not about to go and challenge them, either. "i am on parole," he mumbles, lifting his pant leg just enough that his ankle bracelet is visible. like hell they were ever going to let someone with his record out of their sight. "i probably shouldn't even be here." definitely. he'll be surprised if it's not brought up at his meeting. it's not out of bounds, but it is a little strange. "thanks for your time, parker," he says, nodding at him. "i'll see you around."

#Parker // Leon #<3

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'I don't know' was an easy enough statement to pass between the two of them at the end of the day, but something small and defensive can't help but dig its nails into the base of Parker's neck when Leon suggested that the estate be demolished. A voice telling him to stand up straight, a rhetorical hammer telling him that the Estate was the only place for him to be, that he wasn't designed to be anywhere else. Talking about leaving was all well and good, and Leon had the chance to leave, but instead, he decided to come back and tell Parker of all people that he wished the place would be 'torn down' not long after failing to reach common ground about its importance to each of them, respectively.

It was a child's answer. Leon could change his name and attempt to distance himself all he wanted but he was similar to the rest of the Walsh offspring in that regard - they were all immature. Stunted.

"Selfish, but not unexpected." Parker replied, his tone creating that familiar distance between them, as he belonged. On the other side of the barrier, remaining private about what few emotional ties he had to anything or anyone. One of those was debatable in their entirety. He knew every child that lived in that house over 25 years ago. He remembered Michael Jr., who would've been just a few years younger than Parker. He saw it with Luke openly where he couldn't see it through the presumed repression of the surviving Walsh children, though he didn't know what the term was.

"I recommend, in the meantime, that you practice effective coping mechanisms." Blunt, dull delivery had made its way back to the forefront of Parker's tone; the barrier was back up. Where it belonged. Where he belonged. Where Leon didn't. If it upset Nikolas, now Leon, then that would just be something else for him to either deal with or attempt to distance himself from. "Alternatively, unless you are on parole, there's nothing forcing you to stay in Antioch." Rude? Possibly. True? More correct.

it's not that parker's question is a bad one. by all means, it's the first thing that occurred to him when he realized it. why? leon has no idea. it must just be the same nostalgia that everyone has about their childhood, before everything crumbled and reality sunk in. is it ironic that the most normal parts of existence are the hardest for him to deal with? he doesn't deserve to miss home. that doesn't stop him from missing it. if only it was as easy to disregard. "i don't know," he admits, shaking his head. "i don't know. i guess i'm still looking for reasons." another unfortunate part about emotions—they don't always come prepackaged with a cause. reason is just about thrown out the window, as far as feelings are concerned. it's all too often that they straight up contradict. "i wish they'd just tear this whole place down. maybe then i'd be able to forget about it."

#Parker // Leon #//I know I owe other replies #//but I was *inspired* #//or something

[chained-by-secrets]

"...Why?" Parker asked again, finding that once he sifted through the thoughts about Leon asking him (though he realized now that he was perhaps not actually asking out of interest for Parker himself but more to find common ground for them, which was acceptable and what Parker should've expected) about the house and his position with it and indeed, why Leon showed up in the first place when Parker was relatively certain that there were no reasons for him to show back up, 'why' was the most relevant question.

Parker never did feel shame when he asked 'why', even when his father made it transparently clear that it annoyed him after the nth time of explaining the same thing to him. 'It's like a broken record with you,' his father said more than once. 'What, you don't got any memory retention? Is there anything inside your empty little brain?' And he'd ruffle Parker's hair affectionately. Or... Parker assumed it was affectionately; gentle, calm, with that half-smile that his mother said he got from his father. And his father was right, of course, Parker was sure of it even if he lacked the sufficient words to explain or justify it.

If he had been told the answer to this particular 'why', then he would need to be told again. Maybe, even if he did know why, Leon didn't so asking would help the younger man sort through his... emotions. '"Why do you miss it?" He elaborated. "If you don't feel as though you should, then why spend effort on it?"

it's not exactly the answer leon is hoping to hear, but he knows that's his fault. his question hadn't been very specific, now had it? and even if it had, it all has less to do with parker's answer than it does his own tortured psyche. he just doesn't want to be alone anymore. is that so much to ask? for someone who can't seem to get away from other people, sometimes it really does seem to be. he's just going to have to take a chance. "i miss it, sometimes," he admits, after sucking in a breath. "and i keep thinking that i shouldn't." it's not like he misses the horrible parts of it. he doesn't miss the exorcists tying him down. he doesn't miss the whispers that had seeped out at him from the walls. but it's been so long that this house has only represented the worst of his life that it feels wrong to want anything to do about it. hell, to even look upon it.

#Parker // Leon

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"Something like that," Parker replied quietly. He never understood the appeal of thinking so highly of oneself that it had to be told to other people. He didn't fault Max's confidence, but rather, he idly wondered if there was a reason why Max acted the way he did. He wasn't a psychologist, though, and neither was he remotely competent at assessing personality or body language as efficiently as the rest of the population likely would've preferred so that was all he said in response to Max's generalized statement.

He tilted his head slightly when Max explained his issue with the bus stopping and why that was... insufficient. His brow furrowed and his blue eyes found the poster that Max had put in the alley. "A single poster on a bus is likely to draw more people than that one," he pointed to the alley poster. "I don't understand why you opt to make things needlessly difficult." A pause. "Does it bring you satisfaction? Is putting these posters on a bus worth the effort?" He asked, looking down at the times on the posters again. "How relevant will these be after the concert is concluded?"

"you should be." he's aware of the sarcasm even before parker states it, but he simply chooses to ignore it. "i'm kind of a big deal." something that definitely means something to anyone but himself, the only person who sees any greatness in him. "i know they stop, but not for that long. i want to get a good five or six on there before it drives away. one lousy poster isn't going to draw in anybody." he states it like it's obvious, like the idea of being questioned is unfathomable. "you in or not?"

#Forced Friends // Parker and Max

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Setting the information that something they'd talked about prompted Luke to order them a couple of beers aside, Luke seemed preferable to the change in topic. Parker thought, again, that he had spoken too bluntly about something that required more delicacy than his rough, calloused hands could handle. With only the lingering thoughts that he should apologize again absently clinging to the back of his mind, Parker also engaged in the shift in conversation.

"I... wasn't planning on it." He replied honestly, blue eyes drifting to stare at the young lady as she set their drinks down. Notably, he didn't make a move to drink it himself but he did pull it out of Luke's reach. "I have some dahlias I need to cage so they can stand on their own and..." What else? What else did he do all day every day? The same thing. He found things to do. He was never bored, but that didn't seem to be a sufficient explanation for why he wouldn't go to a festival he never really liked.

"But..." He added, resting one hand on the other once more as the other tapped its fingers rhythmically on the table. "I'll... see what Mr. Vargera says." Ultimately, it was that man's choice and as per usual, Parker wouldn't complain, if only because he didn't know how to. "...Do you contribute anything to the bonfire?" He asked.

Luke nodded in understanding. "Yeah, you're right." It was nearly impossible to handle the emotional burden of losing a loved one in a case shrouded in so much mystery, but his heart went out to the people tasked with chasing the killer's shadow - every day they searched for evidence that may never materialize, follow a trail that only grew colder, constantly having to hear questions from people like Luke that may never be answered. So many miserable ripples just from one monster deciding to act on violent impulse. Suddenly Luke wanted a drink: he meekly waved down a waitress, ordering a couple of beers. If Parker didn't want one, Luke would happily finish both.

The conversation changed, then, and Luke let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Oh heck yeah," he answered with a bit of renewed vigor, muttering a little 'thanks sweetheart' to the woman who brought them two ice-cold brews before too long. "I dunno, seems like it brings a lot of weird stuff around, but their food truck game is going strong. You gonna make it down there sometime, take in the sights? Throw your weeds into the, uh, the thing?" A little lopsided smile accompanied the last bit.

#Childhood Friends // Parker and Luke