leave me your stardust (kissing stall: raebeli)

[Avu]

It had gone something like this:

He’d been walking along mentally mourning the fact that he was hungry and stuck at a stupid Gather where vendors didn’t believe in feeding people to keep them from starving, not when they could make money off of it. Which was probably, in retrospect, why he’d found himself turning down a very pink corridor of stalls that he definitely didn’t remember passing earlier. A’emi would’ve just kept walking until he hit the edges of the Gather so he could loop around into more familiar territory again, except for the rather large group of bemused-looking people standing around one stall in particular. He didn’t remember making the conscious decision, but his feet apparently decided that inspecting that stall would be a very good idea, indeed.

It was.

“Wait, wait,” he said, laughter strangling in his throat, blinking, “So if I kiss a stranger, I get thirty marks, just like that?” Money enough to buy a decent meal—his stomach made its approval known—and probably even a little more. A’emi hadn’t really been checking prices as he made his way through the Gather, mostly people-watching, because he’d been sure he couldn’t afford a thing, but thirty marks was no laughable amount. It could probably get him some stuff at the Weaponry Stall, one of the stalls he’d lingered at longest, along with the Tanner Stall. Needed clothes.

As the man who was behind the stall nodded, he said automatically, “Okay, let’s do it,” still mildly bewildered because who’d really set up a stall and fork out money like that? Might be a scam, but kissing was nice anyway, and who knew, maybe his stranger might even be attractive. At least a little, hopefully, if they were going to have to play tonsil hockey (he wasn’t sure what defined kissing—a peck on the cheek probably would be a no-go, though, too platonic).

In any case, A’emi had been hoping it would be a quick kiss, money, leave thing. He ended up lounging against the stall, glancing at the people around him and at the sky, boredom edging into his stance as he slouched casually, wondering if he ought to be embarrassed by the wary looks he was receiving from people. Probably not—just because they were a little concerned about the merits of locking lips didn’t mean he ought to be ashamed, right? It wasn’t like you could catch anything from kissing. Except, you know, a cold or something, but hey, there had to be some standards to this thing. Saliva exchange did not need to include bacteria or virus exchange, thanks.

Are you completely insane?

I’m thinking I should make up a name for these purposes, in case I end up kissing a Wastelander, A’emi observed to Kyrahth thoughtfully.

I’m thinking you’re stupid, Kyrahth answered, sounding horrified and awed simultaneously. You’re not really /that/ hungry.

My stomach begs to differ.

[Lotty]

Unlike A'emi, Raebeli didn't need legitimate reasons to participate in the kissing stall. She was Raebeli after all, being the weird patchwork quilt of various influences and ideas that she was, reason wasn't exactly a thing that could be applied to her really. Nonetheless, she did have some motivation for the whole little act. First of all, the stallkeeper was extremely convincing, the world did need a whole lot more love, and if she could be the bestower of that force onto someone else then why the shards not? Secondly, touch was a very, very, important part of the human experience, and honestly, who better to investigate into the social and psychological implications of strangers in a tactile exchange than the Weyr's very own mindhealer.

Then there was the best reason of all: she needed a little mouth to mouth attention, and the who exactly the mystery person on the other side of the curtain didn't exactly matter. Well, as long as they still had most of their teeth. Feeling desperately lacking in the romantic relationship department, she was set on filling the void with some non-committal spit swapping that would surely hold her over in her quest for a legitimate partner. Yes, some aspect of the fairytales of her youth still hung dreamily over her head, and when she found herself lost in the clouds, more often than not she hoped to be rescued by her very own prince charming. Luckily she had never held her breath, and the mental voyages were always fleeting at best.

Having been ushered around to the other side of the booth and standing in wait for the stranger to be revealed, she went through the typically girly routine of figuring out what to say, do, and how she should look. Since this was something of a game, maybe she should play a little role.... ohhhh she knew... she should maybe try the seductive angle; eyes narrowed and lips pouted into a perfectly kissable moue. Or or or... maybe she could be a little coy? Flash her eyelashes a few times, maybe pinch her cheeks to produce a girlish blush... but just about everything went out the window when the curtains were drawn apart on the little makeshift production and she saw the small blonde ahead of her. Excitedly, she sprang forward, hungrily and completely forgetful of convention.

Her hands reached to A'emi's face to cup his cheeks and seize all the attention on herself, while she leaned all her weight over what little barrier there was to separate them. Eyes wide and bright, she stared at the man, and playfully chirped, "We kiss now yes?" Names, introductions, all of that... that wasn't very much important now was it? Say was you will about her innocence, she was certainly ready to get down to business, and began lurching forward with her eyes closed and lips humorously puckered together in her best impression of a duck.

[Avu]

“Uh?”

Very intelligent and entirely comprehensive comment completed, A’emi blinked and then focused on examining exactly who it was he was supposed to kiss (Kyrahth had been most helpful in entertaining him with grotesque images of the modest hideous people she could think of, entirely too amused at his expense). Much to his relief, the girl—woman—girl was not only not in her sixties, she was also pretty. Not conventional, he expected, since conventional Hold—or Weyr, who knew—girls did not go around plunging excitedly into the unknown depths of kissing booths if they had conventional boyfriends. But that was okay; even if she did have a boyfriend who was jealous, a fight wouldn’t be entirely out of order. At least it would be exciting.

Right.

The look of concentration on her face earned her a chuckle that he barely restrained from becoming a full-blown laugh. Not at her, exactly—it was cute. Like Jenna-cute. He hadn’t expected to get straight down to kissing, though, and while it would be great to just plant one on her and grab his prize, it also seemed fairly heartless. Playing with people was fun and all, but…he leaned forward just enough to kiss her, light, chaste, at the side of her mouth, his hands coming up to her wrists before he ducked away, crinkling his nose at her playfully.

“I know the prize money’s tempting and all, but you can’t really be in so much of a hurry to go shopping that I can’t get your name, right?” Should he know her? A’emi sure hoped not, because he didn’t. At least he was fairly unrecognizable now. He smiled teasingly at her, unable to resist the small flirtation, lifted one of her hands to kiss the back of her hand and bow solemnly over her hand. Proper gentlemanly greeting, right? Even in a kissing booth there were manners. Or something. Although A’emi was also 99.9% sure that after this he was going to be able to buy the best meal he’d had in ages and never see the girl again, he wasn’t going to be rude either.

“I’m Asemi.” It had been about forever and a day since he’d ever been called by his birth name instead of his elided name, but it was the quickest thing that sprang to mind and it was close enough to his current name that he would probably answer on instinct. Little-known downside of pseudonyms: Conditioning to respond to a brand new name took a long time, and Kyrahth had an irritating habit of blurting his actual name into his mind right when he figured he’d gotten a handle on it. “You are?”