Santo and Piotr | Mid-Masquerade
Jul. 18th, 2015 10:40 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
om_rockslide posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
om_mainBricks bro it out at the Masquerade, talking about costumes, girls, and so forth.
Not really being a party person himself, Piotr was getting a distinctly Red Riding Hood in the woods feeling at the summer dance. He mostly kept to himself and smiled awkwardly when anyone acknowledged him. looking at all the costumes he also quietly wished he'd brought his sketchbook, not that the bustle of a party was at all suited to that sort of thing. He'd just grabbed himself a drink when he spotted a familiar figure. And a very familiar costume. Apart from the hat, it seemed he and Santo might as well have dressed from the same closet. "So, we are woodcutters together, yes?" He said as he approached the other young man, drink in one hand and rubber axe in the other.
Whereas Santo was the very spirit of what a party was, if everyone thought Santo's idea of a party was the only definition. Santo liked to give shout-outs, quite literally, to people who he either knew, caught his attention, or both. Thankfully, none of it was really noteworthy, and most of it probably got drowned out by noise anyway. Not that Santo minded; it was just the spirit of the party for everyone to be having a good time and doing their own thing. He had just been thinking about asking Jeanne-Marie to dance (she was totally into him, he could tell), when Piotr caught his attention. Santo gave him 'the nod.'
"Sup, Piotr?" Piotr was mercifully exempt from Santo's habit of calling most of his male peers by their surnames, simply because Piotr's was just too long to really be handy. Santo took in the other boy's costume, and grinned just a bit. "Dude, we both came as Paul Bunyan? That's awesome. I would have grabbed a plastic axe from a costume shop but I didn't feel like dragging a prop around. And I couldn't find a blue ox to pin to my shoulder or something."
Paul Bunyan? Yet another thing for Piotr to feel awkward about for not knowing. "I do not know Paul Bunyan. Is that an American fairy story?" He admitted with a crooked smile. "I came as the Woodcutter. From Red Riding Hood."
"Yeah, dude. Though it's funny, 'cause Paul Bunyan's like, this massive lumberjack. Like, think... taller than most trees and three times as broad? I think?" Santo shrugged. "Something like that. He also had this big blue ox. They like, go around North America and cut down trees and stuff. And probably eat like, a dump truck full of pancakes. Well, Paul would. The ox probably eats like, grass or something. I dunno." Santo wasn't really familiar with fairy tales (or their differences from fables like Paul Bunyan was). Picking Paul Bunyan was simply because he was admittedly lazy, and grossly unfamiliar with fairy tales in general.
"So he is a giant? I know there was a story with a giant. I could not find a costume for that or perhaps I would have worn that. Does Paul Bunyan have a story?" Fairy tales, fables and stuff like that weren't exactly Piotr's forte. But it was something to talk about with a friend so why not indulge his curiosity?
"I think he does? I'll be honest, though, dude. Last I heard anything about him was in like, elementary school or something like that. He's not like a Jack and the Beanstalk kind of giant. He doesn't like, eat people. I think. Pretty sure I remember something about stacks of pancakes." Santo seemed pretty clueless about his own costume idea, which he didn't really hesitate to awkwardly admit in a roundabout way, in this case. "I'm mostly just here for the girls, anyway." Seriously, some beautiful girls in beautiful dresses around here. His high school was never this awesome.
"Do you have a date?" If that was the case then Piotr would make himself scarce. Not just for Santo's sake, but to avoid his own awkwardness as well. He wasn't going to admit it, but yes, he'd definitely also noticed how many pretty girls there were around.
"What? Nah. I mean, I'm awesome and all, Piotr, but it might surprise you that I am not a great dancer like this," Santo replied, cracking a stony grin. "What about you, man?"
"I think you are a better dancer than I am." Piotr admitted self consciously. "I am not good at speaking to girls. I did not know who to ask. So tonight we are both stags, no?" Was that the right expression? Piotr's expression clouded with uncertainty. "I am not sure if that is right."
"Yeah, it is. Confidence, man, that's what you need. Chicks dig it. You can like, bulk out and turn into metal. If that isn't a confidence-inspiring power, I don't know what is." Other than being made of rocks, like he was, because his mutation was awesome. On the topic of who to talk to, though... Santo scratched his head. Man, who would be a good match-up for Piotr? "Well, if she was here, you could've tried that orange-eyed girl." Santo hadn't seen her. Probably went home for the summer. He put a hand on his chin, looking over the crowd. Not that there were many girls to begin with.
"It's kind of a good thing all the girls here are like, perfect tens. 'Cause there's like, what, twelve? Maybe?" Santo asked.
"What is a ten?" There were gaps in Piotr's knowledge, especially on pop culture. And this time he couldn't even make a guess to try and cover it. "And being metal does not protect me from being a fool." And didn't he know it. "It only means I am not hurt when my foot is in my mouth." So at least he knew some English idioms.
"Dude, do they not have a scale of attractiveness in Russia?" Santo asked. "Y'know. You got your ones, which is like, if Professor Xavier was a girl. And then you got like, your twos and your threes, which are like, y'know. Girls that aren't really that attractive but aren't like, y'know, ugly. Fours through sixes are what we call 'average,' y'know? A four might be average but have kinda bad teeth or something. Or like, acne scars." Santo shrugged. "A six might be average but with like, y'know. A nice smile, or cute dimples, y'know? And then above and beyond that you get to the real attractive girls, with tens at the top. And if you want examples, just like, look around, y'know?" Another shrug. "Honestly, most girls from my hometown fell in the six-to-eight category, but here? It's like tens across the board, man. You can't go wrong."
"I have never used numbers before. Numbers for everything is American. But we talk about this sort of thing too." looking around at the party again, Piotr was forced to agree. "Yes, if we use numbers, then there are many 10s at this school." Looking sidelong at Santo he smirked in a way that managed to be both amused and self conscious at the same time. "But I think this is not a system you use when girls are listening, correct? I think saying to a girl that she is a seven will not be good for you."
"See, that's the secret, Piotr. You can look at a girl and you can see whatever number you want. The fact of the matter is, man, most girls are a ten in some way. You just gotta find the way she's a ten, and make her feel like one, y'know?" Santo explained. "Or at least, that's what I think. Maybe I'm wrong." He shrugged.
Piotr cocked his head and considered that for a second. Then he gave Santo a wide, warm smile. "You are a romantic then?" It was half a question and half a statement. Either way the big man seemed to approve. It seemed an unusual way to phrase it to him, but that was just fine.
Santo crossed his arms, smiling a little bit at Pitor. "Yeah, but don't let the cat out of the bag about that one, alright? I'll never hear the end of it. I got this tough guy, misunderstood hero thing going on and if I let it slip too soon, Becky'll give me crap about developing my character too fast or something like that. But what about you, man? You seem to already got the gentle giant thing down pat with the lakeside sketching and then, y'know, putting your fist through my chest when I scared the pants off of you." Because seriously, that was just too funny to let Piotr forget about. "You seem like the kind of guy to be a bit of a romantic, too."
There was a definite nervous edge to Piotr's laugh when Santo brought up The Punching Incident. Because even if Santo was fine now, that was still all kinds of awkward. "Me? I am just bad at talking to girls. It is...." He had to pause and remember the word. Which in this case just added some appropriate irony. "awkward." Looking around the room, his lips twitched self deprecatingly. "Especially when they are 10s."
However, when it came to The Punching Incident, Santo was entirely jovial. "Dude, look at it this way. You're like, broad, muscled, tall, dark hair. Chicks dig that, man. Not to mention you got that whole like, quiet, artistic side to you? Chicks eat that up too, man. Seriously. Give it a go, man. Find someone who looks like they might be into the same stuff, one of the artistic girls or something. Or hey, maybe even one of the nerdy ones. Opposites attract, they say." Not that it had worked for him. But whatever. If nobody could see how awesome he was, they weren't worth his time.
"Perhaps I will. If there is a good time." If that sounded evasive, it's because it was. Piotr had come to the Masquerade expecting to get to have a chat to someone, have something to drink and watch people dance. Which was good enough for him, as he told himself. Getting dropped into asking someone to dance was all sorts of stagefright-inducing. Besides, then he'd be leaving Santo to stand around alone. "But what about you?" A question that totally ignored Santo's mutation. Piotr had taken to the whole don't discriminate about mutants thing extremely quickly apparently.
"Bud, I had two left feet before I manifested. I'm not any better now. Besides, worst that happens with you is that you step on a girl's foot, she yelps, you apologize and act bashful and she falls for you more. The best that might happen with me is that she might need to go to the ER to get some bones set, if I did the same," Santo pointed out. "Besides. How could I pick just one?"
"Then maybe a dance is not the best place for you." Piotr concluded heavily. "Maybe you and I should just stay at the bar. It would be a public favour, yes?"
"Well, someone's gotta keep the snacks safe, y'know?" Santo grinned. "And who better to do it than the biggest, baddest dudes around?"
Piotr guffawed and clapped Santo companionably on the shoulder. "I think there are too many hungry people here. Even for us two. But we will try. Come, I need another drink."
Not really being a party person himself, Piotr was getting a distinctly Red Riding Hood in the woods feeling at the summer dance. He mostly kept to himself and smiled awkwardly when anyone acknowledged him. looking at all the costumes he also quietly wished he'd brought his sketchbook, not that the bustle of a party was at all suited to that sort of thing. He'd just grabbed himself a drink when he spotted a familiar figure. And a very familiar costume. Apart from the hat, it seemed he and Santo might as well have dressed from the same closet. "So, we are woodcutters together, yes?" He said as he approached the other young man, drink in one hand and rubber axe in the other.
Whereas Santo was the very spirit of what a party was, if everyone thought Santo's idea of a party was the only definition. Santo liked to give shout-outs, quite literally, to people who he either knew, caught his attention, or both. Thankfully, none of it was really noteworthy, and most of it probably got drowned out by noise anyway. Not that Santo minded; it was just the spirit of the party for everyone to be having a good time and doing their own thing. He had just been thinking about asking Jeanne-Marie to dance (she was totally into him, he could tell), when Piotr caught his attention. Santo gave him 'the nod.'
"Sup, Piotr?" Piotr was mercifully exempt from Santo's habit of calling most of his male peers by their surnames, simply because Piotr's was just too long to really be handy. Santo took in the other boy's costume, and grinned just a bit. "Dude, we both came as Paul Bunyan? That's awesome. I would have grabbed a plastic axe from a costume shop but I didn't feel like dragging a prop around. And I couldn't find a blue ox to pin to my shoulder or something."
Paul Bunyan? Yet another thing for Piotr to feel awkward about for not knowing. "I do not know Paul Bunyan. Is that an American fairy story?" He admitted with a crooked smile. "I came as the Woodcutter. From Red Riding Hood."
"Yeah, dude. Though it's funny, 'cause Paul Bunyan's like, this massive lumberjack. Like, think... taller than most trees and three times as broad? I think?" Santo shrugged. "Something like that. He also had this big blue ox. They like, go around North America and cut down trees and stuff. And probably eat like, a dump truck full of pancakes. Well, Paul would. The ox probably eats like, grass or something. I dunno." Santo wasn't really familiar with fairy tales (or their differences from fables like Paul Bunyan was). Picking Paul Bunyan was simply because he was admittedly lazy, and grossly unfamiliar with fairy tales in general.
"So he is a giant? I know there was a story with a giant. I could not find a costume for that or perhaps I would have worn that. Does Paul Bunyan have a story?" Fairy tales, fables and stuff like that weren't exactly Piotr's forte. But it was something to talk about with a friend so why not indulge his curiosity?
"I think he does? I'll be honest, though, dude. Last I heard anything about him was in like, elementary school or something like that. He's not like a Jack and the Beanstalk kind of giant. He doesn't like, eat people. I think. Pretty sure I remember something about stacks of pancakes." Santo seemed pretty clueless about his own costume idea, which he didn't really hesitate to awkwardly admit in a roundabout way, in this case. "I'm mostly just here for the girls, anyway." Seriously, some beautiful girls in beautiful dresses around here. His high school was never this awesome.
"Do you have a date?" If that was the case then Piotr would make himself scarce. Not just for Santo's sake, but to avoid his own awkwardness as well. He wasn't going to admit it, but yes, he'd definitely also noticed how many pretty girls there were around.
"What? Nah. I mean, I'm awesome and all, Piotr, but it might surprise you that I am not a great dancer like this," Santo replied, cracking a stony grin. "What about you, man?"
"I think you are a better dancer than I am." Piotr admitted self consciously. "I am not good at speaking to girls. I did not know who to ask. So tonight we are both stags, no?" Was that the right expression? Piotr's expression clouded with uncertainty. "I am not sure if that is right."
"Yeah, it is. Confidence, man, that's what you need. Chicks dig it. You can like, bulk out and turn into metal. If that isn't a confidence-inspiring power, I don't know what is." Other than being made of rocks, like he was, because his mutation was awesome. On the topic of who to talk to, though... Santo scratched his head. Man, who would be a good match-up for Piotr? "Well, if she was here, you could've tried that orange-eyed girl." Santo hadn't seen her. Probably went home for the summer. He put a hand on his chin, looking over the crowd. Not that there were many girls to begin with.
"It's kind of a good thing all the girls here are like, perfect tens. 'Cause there's like, what, twelve? Maybe?" Santo asked.
"What is a ten?" There were gaps in Piotr's knowledge, especially on pop culture. And this time he couldn't even make a guess to try and cover it. "And being metal does not protect me from being a fool." And didn't he know it. "It only means I am not hurt when my foot is in my mouth." So at least he knew some English idioms.
"Dude, do they not have a scale of attractiveness in Russia?" Santo asked. "Y'know. You got your ones, which is like, if Professor Xavier was a girl. And then you got like, your twos and your threes, which are like, y'know. Girls that aren't really that attractive but aren't like, y'know, ugly. Fours through sixes are what we call 'average,' y'know? A four might be average but have kinda bad teeth or something. Or like, acne scars." Santo shrugged. "A six might be average but with like, y'know. A nice smile, or cute dimples, y'know? And then above and beyond that you get to the real attractive girls, with tens at the top. And if you want examples, just like, look around, y'know?" Another shrug. "Honestly, most girls from my hometown fell in the six-to-eight category, but here? It's like tens across the board, man. You can't go wrong."
"I have never used numbers before. Numbers for everything is American. But we talk about this sort of thing too." looking around at the party again, Piotr was forced to agree. "Yes, if we use numbers, then there are many 10s at this school." Looking sidelong at Santo he smirked in a way that managed to be both amused and self conscious at the same time. "But I think this is not a system you use when girls are listening, correct? I think saying to a girl that she is a seven will not be good for you."
"See, that's the secret, Piotr. You can look at a girl and you can see whatever number you want. The fact of the matter is, man, most girls are a ten in some way. You just gotta find the way she's a ten, and make her feel like one, y'know?" Santo explained. "Or at least, that's what I think. Maybe I'm wrong." He shrugged.
Piotr cocked his head and considered that for a second. Then he gave Santo a wide, warm smile. "You are a romantic then?" It was half a question and half a statement. Either way the big man seemed to approve. It seemed an unusual way to phrase it to him, but that was just fine.
Santo crossed his arms, smiling a little bit at Pitor. "Yeah, but don't let the cat out of the bag about that one, alright? I'll never hear the end of it. I got this tough guy, misunderstood hero thing going on and if I let it slip too soon, Becky'll give me crap about developing my character too fast or something like that. But what about you, man? You seem to already got the gentle giant thing down pat with the lakeside sketching and then, y'know, putting your fist through my chest when I scared the pants off of you." Because seriously, that was just too funny to let Piotr forget about. "You seem like the kind of guy to be a bit of a romantic, too."
There was a definite nervous edge to Piotr's laugh when Santo brought up The Punching Incident. Because even if Santo was fine now, that was still all kinds of awkward. "Me? I am just bad at talking to girls. It is...." He had to pause and remember the word. Which in this case just added some appropriate irony. "awkward." Looking around the room, his lips twitched self deprecatingly. "Especially when they are 10s."
However, when it came to The Punching Incident, Santo was entirely jovial. "Dude, look at it this way. You're like, broad, muscled, tall, dark hair. Chicks dig that, man. Not to mention you got that whole like, quiet, artistic side to you? Chicks eat that up too, man. Seriously. Give it a go, man. Find someone who looks like they might be into the same stuff, one of the artistic girls or something. Or hey, maybe even one of the nerdy ones. Opposites attract, they say." Not that it had worked for him. But whatever. If nobody could see how awesome he was, they weren't worth his time.
"Perhaps I will. If there is a good time." If that sounded evasive, it's because it was. Piotr had come to the Masquerade expecting to get to have a chat to someone, have something to drink and watch people dance. Which was good enough for him, as he told himself. Getting dropped into asking someone to dance was all sorts of stagefright-inducing. Besides, then he'd be leaving Santo to stand around alone. "But what about you?" A question that totally ignored Santo's mutation. Piotr had taken to the whole don't discriminate about mutants thing extremely quickly apparently.
"Bud, I had two left feet before I manifested. I'm not any better now. Besides, worst that happens with you is that you step on a girl's foot, she yelps, you apologize and act bashful and she falls for you more. The best that might happen with me is that she might need to go to the ER to get some bones set, if I did the same," Santo pointed out. "Besides. How could I pick just one?"
"Then maybe a dance is not the best place for you." Piotr concluded heavily. "Maybe you and I should just stay at the bar. It would be a public favour, yes?"
"Well, someone's gotta keep the snacks safe, y'know?" Santo grinned. "And who better to do it than the biggest, baddest dudes around?"
Piotr guffawed and clapped Santo companionably on the shoulder. "I think there are too many hungry people here. Even for us two. But we will try. Come, I need another drink."
