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“What do you mean, you’ve never celebrated this holiday? Does it not exist in Stratoverse?”
Petunia’s voice held no judgment, but her voice still wavered slightly when Nim answered. “It’s not that it’s unheard of, I just never did find the opportunity…”
And Petunia broke into a wide smile, and grabbed her hand, and that was how they ended up roaming the streets in the evening of Valentine’s day. They’d considered doing something fancy, but it was just a little— too much, so they were just walking aimlessly now, enjoying the atmosphere and the street performers. “There’s a fun bar I know down that street,” Petunia noted just as the sun set, “It’s a little bit far, but it could be fun to visit again. What do you say?”
Nim nodded, a little dazzled. The noise and the lights and the people— no one she knew, the rest of their group had decided on quieter activities— it was all a lot to take in. The agitation gave her whiplash, compared to the calm of the ruins she’d grown accustomed to.
No, that was incorrect. The calm was imposed on her by a lifestyle, a lifelong string of deep breaths taken, of laughter she was too far to partake in. It was dazzling to suddenly be in the middle of it, shoved by the crowd of lovers like she’d been dropped in a stream without quite knowing how to swim.
Petunia and she were both too short to see above everyone else’s head, but her guide had no difficulty navigating. It was quite fascinating, really, the assurance with which Petunia could break through, seemingly knowing exactly what to do and how.
“Oh, wow. This is nostalgic.” Nim blinked, refocusing on Petunia. She was looking at a store— a clothing store, which was still open. “I have an idea.”
Nim was now swimming in even more confusion. The clothing store was unlike anything she’d ever seen, and nowhere near what she’d thought Petunia would like, and now she was wearing these “punk” attires.
She’d never worn clothes with spikes on them before?? What???? Was that leather. The insatiable part of her brain marveled at the new experience— another was worried, because what would the others think? What would Petunia think? She must look absolutely terrible like this—
Petunia called out to her outside the dressing room. “Are you dressed yet? Did everything fit.”
“O-Oh. Yeah.”
Petunia slipped into the small cubicle and clapped her hands. “You look great!”
She, herself, had gotten dressed for the occasion— Hair held back by a pink bandanna, sleeveless leather jacket— there was a whole skull pattern on her belt. Woah.
“Alright, we’re getting these hun.”
“W-What? But I can’t— They’re clothes— That’s too expensive—”
“HUSH. It’s a gift. You’ll be going home soon, won’t you? You can take them as souvenirs.”
Nim could barely do more than babble thanks when Petunia dragged her to the passionless cashier to pay, and about ten minutes after that. She didn’t even notice they were both still wearing their new clothes until Petunia dragged her into what seemed like a shady bar.
“Um. What are we doing here?”
Petunia waved hello to a huge man wearing more leather than skin, seemingly a guard of some kind— he nodded respectfully and let her pass, Nim trailing quickly after her.
“Oh, I just didn’t come in a while! I rarely bring anyone here, I thought you might enjoy the experience.” She smiled. “If you’re uncomfortable, we can leave.”
“No, no!” It was kind of— exciting. She could hear music pulsing up somewhere ahead of the bare-cement corridor, so unlike the bright colors Gloomverse favored. She was curious to know how such a subculture could’ve formed. Here everything was white and metallic gray, with purple or red accents— save the occasional colorful graffiti, she noted as they went through a small courtyard. There was a modest crowd there, circling stairs that head deep into the earth.
“Alright. We’re here to have fun, yeah? If anyone gives you trouble, call for me and Momma Gloom will take care of it.” Petunia winked, and Nim nodded.
Petunia pushed her towards the stairs, gently. That’s where the music came from— light flashed, energy exuded from the underground room below. The trepidation was contagious somehow, and excitement bubbled under her skin.
Even though she’d never been to this kind of place before, she didn’t feel like they were stranger than she was— she’d never really fit in anywhere, and here was just a little bit intimidating, yet no one paid her any mind here. She was dressed like them, but it was like she was part of this place in a way that went deeper than fabric. All she could feel, in the end, was the tremor of the sparks in the air.
Though the way the crowd systematically parted before Petunia was the slightest bit concerning.