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text; un: signorvespa

i hate this

the sky has been leaking for DAYs... WEEKS??

it's so cold my eyes are frozen!

i hate this weird white water

i want to go outside...

[ A photo of a colored pencil drawing is attached... depicting Alberto "(in a blanket)" beside his familiar Carlo and his pet compsognathus Sofia, trapped inside his home "(forever?)," labeled "cold, alone... and fed up!" beneath falling snow — AKA "weird white water??? (every day...!!!)" — outside the window... All of them clearly "very unhappy" — the sheer image of misery itself. ]

SO!
let's trade!!!
anyone who can help me find or make something like this, i'll cook you food or something, whatever, we'll talk......
but as soon as possible,
i need one of THESE:

[ Another image is attached of Alberto wearing what... seems to be a diver's suit? Or something??? Holding a "giant umbrella" in one hand and Sofia on a leash in a harness in the other, Carlo floating above, all "dry, safe, warm, and NOT at home..." There's still plenty of ~~snow~~ white water around them, "but not on Alberto!" Most importantly, though, in this drawing, they're all happy! — as... baffling as it is to anyone else, surely... No thanks, no niceties, just complaints and demands, urgent, desperate, and maybe a little, um, bizarre? Un po. The kid's gone mad with cabin fever, possibly? This is... well... th-this is something. Definitely something. Ahem. ]

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[ That uh. That sure is a creature. If he had any crafting capabilities, this would be a lot easier - he'd just make something for Sofia himself - but he can't even make paper chains properly. Sewing an outfit for a dinosaur (???) just wouldn't be possible. ]

I can't promise I'll find something for her, but I'll try my best. [ Maybe some dog sweaters...? ] Is there anything else you need?

nothing else
just clothes

[ like that's some small matter for someone posting complaining about how he's trapped inside... This strange kid... ]

[ What a strange kid indeed... but Tsumugi isn't put off. ]

Alright. I'll text you once I finish shopping.

[ And, indeed, after about an hour or so, he texts again: ] I'm on my way back to the inn. Would now be a good time to come by?

yeah come over whenever! i mean
im here
lol 😬
just knock

[ And he drops his room number at the inn. ]

Sounds good. I'll see you soon.

[ A little time passes before there's a knock on Alberto's door. Tsumugi had more or less headed straight to his room - though he'd stopped by his own to pick up a little something, just in case.

When he answers, he smiles warmly and holds up a couple of shopping bags. (tucked under his arm is what looks like a bundle of papers, but at the moment, what those papers are is a mystery.) ] Would you mind if I come in?

Hey~! Yeah, yeah, benvenuto!

[ And with such a warm and enthusiastic welcome, upon entrance, Tsumugi will find himself... likely overwhelmed. Alberto's room is crazy. ((tl;dr gallery post))

From the very first glance, the visual impact is immense. His room is wildly overcrowded and over-decorated with no lack of clutter, even just starting with the old wooden barrel beside the front door filled with no less than five myriad umbrellas, plus a couple fishing poles, a hand lift fishing net and a cast fishing net both slung over the barrel's side, with a few cork floaters and large conch shells piled on the ground around it. He's made use of every inch of his small inn room. His bed is shoved in one corner, decorated with miscellaneous crap and way too many pillows, along with a canopy of colorful fairy lights, which are providing the most lighting in the room right now, along with a few candles created by the Candlebloom spell scattered about and an old kerosene lantern on his desk, the flame dancing inside being the only flame that's not open, but all of it contributing to some very nice, warm, ambient mood lighting, despite the grey, dismal weather outside. On the wall above the bed are also his Vespa poster from home, a taped together drawing of his own that's clearly important to him because it's directly above where he lies his head. The other wall is done up with several rows of twine boasting a vast collection of Polaroid photos strung up with clothespins, paperclips, even safety pins. On the floor at the foot of the bed, there's a nest of blankets and extra pillows (how many pillows does he need?!) and if Tsumugi is observant, he'll see a tiny lizard-like snout peeking out from under these blankets, Sofia curled up warm and asleep near an old space heater he found for cheap. Beside the bed, he's nailed some mangled old wire coathangers upside down to the wall, having twisted their hooks out to serve as weird coatracks to hang a brown flat cap and a pair of old-fashioned binoculars. The only window in the room is the main focal point, just beside the bed and coathangers; he's pinned up a ragged old sail as a curtain, plus a fishing net adorned with myriad trinkets. He's stuck a dead tree branch dripping crystals on the well-worn armoire next to it, the hanging gems refracting the colorful fairy lights and flames, faint rainbows dancing in the corner of one's eyes as they idly twirl and shift in the air. A delicate-looking antique alchemy set is perched precariously along the windowsill, with colorful strings hanging beneath it with bells and feathers and balls of tinfoil tied to the ends: homemade cat toys. More are strung up on the doorknob of the bathroom door at the foot of his bed, left closed just for that reason.

The room is drawn together with a circular rainbow woven rug in the center, as the "bedroom" corner bleeds into the "living room" corner of the small space. A chaise longue he dragged home from some passing flea market is shoved in the corner of the room, and a couple paces in front of it sits an open, hard-cover suitcase, equally old-fashioned and well-worn as all these other "found" items he may or may not have literally found in the trash; but the small suitcase is all but overflowing with an ungodly amount of colored pencils, markers, and crayons, every color imaginable, beneath a roll of brown butcher paper hanging from a curtain rod nailed to the wall. The Doodle Center, clearly, with disparate doodles already underway — self-portraits, cats, Vespas, Sofia the dinosaur, what seem to be weird fish people, a funny-looking wizard... A broken bicycle wheel is propped up against the wall with various drawings and notes and whatnot clipped to its spokes like some makeshift bulletin board. An old rusty bucket on the floor between the armoire and the couch boasts not one, not two, nor three, but four different types of swords, though some are sharper or duller than others. And a harpoon. ...Why does he have a harpoon?!

Hanging above this whole space are a fair few repurposed glass sauce jars done up with messy macrame, some full or half-full of beach glass, interesting pebbles, seashells, acorns, bottle caps, who knows what. Just stuff, like everything else in here...! Likewise, there are several repurposed glass olive oil bottles scattered throughout the room, most empty, some with dried reeds or wilted wildflowers stuck in them; one with an unusually wide neck, maybe an old liquor bottle he found, contains a small collection of magic wands, though in all honesty he doesn't know what they are, not unlike the alchemy set... He just thought they were some cool-looking sticks.

Against the central wall is a simple wooden desk, one of its drawers open and overcrowded with hammers, wrenches, screwdrivers, spatulas???, an axe, pliers, who knows what else, and whatever doesn't fit in there, has been shoved into the slots of a rusty old toaster on the floor... The rest of his workspace is surprisingly clear and functional, though. Sure, there's a nice tall, vertical stack of comic books shoved to one corner, along with a shoebox (from the one pair of shoes Alberto owns now) brimming with folded sheets of notebook paper, envelopes, and more Polaroids, completely disorganized but at least collected together. But the kerosene lantern shines on a small collection of whittled wooden figurines: a couple Vespas, a little boat with oars, some miniature spoons and forks, a couple cats, a dinosaur clearly meant to be Sofia, a turtle, a fish, etc, some colored, most not, with a knife and curly wood shavings still fresh around a couple rougher-looking ones. There's the original copies of the drawings he posted to the network still on the desktop with some colored pencils strewn about, an abandoned half-empty cup of cold espresso beside the papers. His Polaroid camera is left open and put off to the side, a few peel-away film casings littered around it, a couple fallen on the floor with their final developed copies sitting out on the desktop beside the camera. The desk chair is a simple wooden dining chair with a normal bed pillow tied to its back with a couple frayed pieces of rope, a ratty fleece blanket folded on the seat to serve as a cushion; his winged cat familiar, Carlo, is curled up in a loaf on the chair, his iridescent wings folded against himself, half-asleep like the dinosaur at the foot of his bed.

With calm Italian pop music drifting through the air along with a faint smell of coffee, there's definitely a certain ambient charm to the room, the general aesthetic not so unlike his room back home — but certainly more functional, sensible, and mature, for all this charming chaos... It's impressive and overwhelming at once. Alberto already comes across as a bit of a weird kid, but that's pretty much confirmed seeing the space he's created for himself (apparently mysteriously trapped in because of the snow? though there are worse places to be trapped!) with so many presumably found items, judging by the worn and torn quality of nearly everything in the room. Still, the question stands: Why does he have so much stuff, but so few clothes...?!

He opens the door loosely wrapped in a green blanket, wearing a faded red T-shirt, worn blue jeans slightly too big for him, held up by another ragged piece of rope as usual, cuffs rolled up a ways past his ankles, revealing a cowrie shell anklet he never takes off ever since being gifted it. He's also wearing a warm, half-lidded smile as he ushers Tsumugi into this mess he calls home. He does eye the bundle of papers under the man's arm, but one thing at a time here... ]

Thanks for coming. You want some espresso? S'probably still hot...

[ At least the kid's a nice host...? But also, strange being offered espresso by a child, perhaps. Especially in an already energizing space like this. The implication of unregulated caffeine intake combined with this wild collection of Random Stuff™ begs another important question, though: who is looking after this child...? Is anyone looking after Alberto? All signs point to No, somehow. It's seemingly just him in this private wonderland. Him and his cat familiar and his pet dinosaur. And evidently plenty of espresso. Everything about this screams "chaos." ]

Edited 2021-12-21 07:01 (UTC)

[ It's absolute chaos, sure, but it has character. Tsumugi's not sure what to focus on first. The collection of fishing poles? Or perhaps the even larger collection of pillows? ... and wait, why is there a harpoon?!?

His attention is so split, he nearly misses Alberto's offer. ] Oh- yes, please. Thank you very much. [ Though he has to wonder if a kid like him really needs access to caffeine...

As the espresso is prepped, Tsumugi makes his way toward his bed, where the posters and pictures are. The drawing is so endearing... but the poster makes him wonder aloud ] Do you like scooters, Alberto-kun?

[ Alberto shoots Tsumugi a smile when the offer for espresso is accepted — way too enthusiastic about espresso still — and scurries off to prepare their cups. He... thoughtfully only fills his own up halfway, showing some restraint for once in his life; even Alberto doesn't need Alberto on two cups of espresso. But as he's rounding the corner from the unseen kitchen with the two cups in hand, he's beaming behind the man as he notices he's examining his poster, catching his question just in time. ]

Uh, they're only like the best things humans ever made~? It's been my dream to have my own Vespa!

[ He joins Tsumugi by his side, handing him his cup, then reaches over to point at the drawing with his free hand. ]

See that? That's me and my best friend Luca on our dream Vespa someday. It'll be great...! Whenever Luca's done with school, we're gonna go see the whole world together~! See, that's everything we're gonna need for when we finally go.

[ They need... an umbrella, a blanket, gelato, a pot to make pasta on their Vespa somehow, and a telescope...? Yup, that's everything anyone would need, yup, yup, yup. ]

[ To be fair, some of those things could be necessary? There's a source of food, warmth, and shelter from the rain. But it's... um... lacking, to put it kindly.

Tsumugi doesn't voice this, though. There's no reason to dampen something so pure and innocent. Especially when there's a part of all this that reminds him a bit of his own childhood, of dreaming of becoming a police officer with Fuyuki and then ultimately falling in love with theater. (also maybe by the time he and Luca are ready to set out, they'll realize on their own that they should pack a little more...) ]

That sounds like quite the adventure. [ hehe. ] Is there any place in particular you're looking forward to seeing?

Everywhere~ Once we're outta there, I mean it, we're gonna see the world. Every day, we'll ride somewhere new, and every night, we'll sleep under the, uh— ...the stars. Heh.

[ He almost said fish. He almost said fish. He caught himself. He's learning. The dreaminess in his voice falters a little, just to fade into fondness with a warmer smile. ]

That's why we're bringing the telescope. Luca likes the stars.

[ There's still... a certain dreaminess to his voice, though, eyes focused on the drawing. He must miss his friend a lot, that's obvious just reading his body language. He doesn't even need to say it. ]

[ That longing for Luca is clear as day. And it makes his heart ache a little too, as he thinks of all his friends back home.

He looks between the two boys, immortalized on paper, before smiling at Alberto. ] Luca sounds like a wonderful friend. I hope I'll get the chance to meet him soon.

[ A pause, then: ] And once he arrives, I'll introduce you to Tasuku.

Tasuku? Is that your best friend? He's here?

[ Alberto turns to face Tsumugi better with a curious expression, raising his brows above the lip of his espresso cup as he takes a sip. He's indeed curious about this guy's world and circle of friends. Actors, I mean, wow, right? It's pretty dazzling, for a fourteen-year-old who's seen, like, four movies and loved all of them. He can only imagine Tsumugi's life back home must be, like, glamorous, right...? So his best friend? Obviously a person of interest, too. ]

[ Glamorous... well, Tasuku's been called princely? But he'd make such a face if Tsumugi ever said that. ]

He's not, but I'm hopeful he'll show up someday. [ They're older, and they've had their years apart from each other, but there's a very similar dreaminess in his voice now. There's a lot of people in his theater troupe that he misses, but he misses Tasuku the most. ] Honestly, we're not that alike... and we've argued quite a bit in the past. Mostly about trivial things, but sometimes it was pretty serious.

[ There's a brief flicker of emotion across his face as he remembers their unhappy reunion a few years back. The air between them was so thick with tension, they could barely look each other in the eye... It'd taken a lot for them to reach any sort of understanding, but they did, and for that he's grateful.

The emotion leaves as quickly as it came, replaced by a smile as he takes a sip of espresso. ] But he's still a dear friend to me. It's always a joy to be able to share the stage with him.

[ Alberto listens carefully, and a flicker of emotion grows across his face, too, eyes gazing somewhere distant in turn. But he naturally matches Tsumugi beat by beat, letting a wistful smile spread on his own lips and he washes the melancholy thoughts back down with a sip of his own espresso. ]

...Heh. I know what you mean. Luca and me are really different, too — aaand we totally had a big fight once, aha... But! We fixed it. And in the end I even helped him do the thing we were fighting about, eheh, sooo...! It all worked out. We both got to live our dreams— even if... we had to do it apart from each other.

[ Another blip, before he jolts and wipes that clear, too, adding on hastily: ]

For now! Until Luca's done with school, like I said. Then we're going back to Plan A, hehe, and we'll do our original dream together, like we were supposed to. And it'll be even better than it would've been, cuz now it'll be like we got to practice, y'know, doing dream stuff, heh!

[ It's an odd but sweet way to look at it. But whether or not he manages to disguise it with light, offhand laughter, there's still something bittersweet about the sound of all this... But indeed, sounds like they fixed it. Alberto's still standing here telling him about Luca from another universe over, after all. ]

[ It is, indeed, a little bittersweet. The lines are different, but the scene playing out feels so familiar. Two young boys sharing a dream, their paths diverging for a while, only to come back together some time later... They may have fixed their issues, but Alberto still seems to be on the split path, separate from his friend. Even more-so now, given how they're in an entirely different universe. ]

I think that's a good way to look at things. It was hard at the time, but being apart from Tasuku made me really appreciate our friendship. And it's made our dream feel more fulfilling, now that we're living it together.

I'm sure it'll be the same for you and Luca.

[ Those words draw a genuine, tender smile on Alberto's face, the warmth of which reaching his eyes, even tilting his head a little. It's a touching sentiment. That's all he wants. He goes out on a limb, and it's the first time admitting this to someone — well, someone who's not a cat, because there's totally a magic talking cat wandering around out there with a lot of sensitive information about Alberto, but, well, he's a cat — but it feels like this guy would get it... and in fact, it feels appropriate, since this is kind of how they came to meet in the first place, so it's a big admission for the child: ]

Yeah. Heh, I hope so. Y'know— I've still been writing letters to Luca. Here, I mean. We wrote letters all the time back home after he moved away, but... I figure, I dunno, maybe someday they'll let us send letters home somehow. I mean, if they can bring a whole person here, they can send a piece of paper back, hah...! Like, maybe once our way back home is strong enough or something, they can test it out like that! I dunno how this stuff works, but— at least I can still talk to Luca this way, sort of, even if he can't talk back... Heheh, y'know?

[ It's a very sheepish admission, but a sweet one — something very telling about the boy's character. But once again: something very bittersweet, too. The kid's probably a lot lonelier than he lets on. That's some serious dedication to a weak pipe dream, indulging in this fantasy for catharsis more than any actual probability he'll ever send these letters... It's not quite delusional, just... innocent and hopeful and a little bit sad. But, indeed, sweet all the same. ]

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text; un: signorvespa

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a short novella to set the scene here lol

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