[Video] [Filtered from Lup Taaco]

[barold]

[There's a fidgety middle-aged man on your screens, a bespectacled man who looks like he has absolutely no clue what he's doing. Evidenced by the fact that only about half of his face is even in frame.]

Hello. Uh, no that's... G-Greetings! No that's worse...

[He sighs.]

Okay. Say that you, uh... completely hypothetically... haven't really seen your significant other in a while. Couple months. 'Cause of somethin' you did. Hy-Hypothetically. And you're hypothetically lookin' to get'em a little somethin' now that you're uh, back together again. Just a little present, like, nothin' special, j-just somethin' nice t'show y'love'em.

Your hypothetical significant other also already has everythin'. And they're magic.

[Barry hasn't gotten any answers yet, and he already looks demoralized.]

Any suggestions would be appreciated. Uh. Thanks for yer time. How do I make it stop record--

Comments

[barold]

[Barry chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. There's a flush of pink over his cheeks already.]

That's-- Th-Thank you for th'nice suggestion, but I was thinkin' somethin' a little more... [He looks himself over, sheepishly.] Li'l more pocket-sized.

[dreamsallotted]

Your loss.

[Seel thought about it, trying to imagine what he might give Swift.]

It's not always about the gift itself. Is there anything that they want that they can't necessary get? Even though they're magic? Like a day to themselves? A quiet dinner?

Hypothetically. You know.

[Yeah Seel's not falling for your shit.]

[barold]

H-Hypothetically.

[Yeeeah, Barry's like. plastic wrap levels of transparent here.]

That's the thing, I dunno what she'd want that she can't just get. Or doesn't have already. A quiet dinner would be nice though... That's a good idea.

[dreamsallotted]

Wait, how well do know this hypothetical person?

[Because, really? Seel had been married to Swift for 30 years. He knew exactly what to get him, and what he might want. It wasn't hard.]

Start with a nice dinner. Some time alone. Clear the night. Maybe get something small from one of the shops. Necklace. Hat. Bracelet. Something you can put in a box. Even if it's just a red ribbon that reminded you of them.

[barold]

About... I dunno, a century now? Married for... sixty...

[well when you put it like that Barry looks like a real chump, doesn't he?

(it's because he is)]

Th-That sounds real nice and romantic. [He cringes a little, sheepish. He knows exactly how beta and pathetic he sounds right now.] It's the somethin'-to-put-in-a-box part I'm strugglin' with. I couldn't tell ya how many necklaces and ribbons she has.

[dreamsallotted]

Wait. You've known this person for a century and you don't know what to get them for a fucking gift?

Not to be a bitch but that seems kind of crappy don't you think?

[Seel sighed, wondering what the hell he got himself into.]

It's not about the necklace or ribbon. You're looking at it wrong. It's about the 'I saw this and thought of you' part. It can be a literal piece of shit in a box, that doesn't matter. But don't do that. Shit makes a bad gift.

[barold]

Well! [Barry bristles, flustered, going red all over.] Y-You try comin' up with new gifts after knowin' someone a century, then.

[He's right, of course. It's completely crappy. Barry is painfully aware that it is. But after days of wanting to get her something and agonizing over just what that would be, something that could communicate all the things Barry is too afraid to communicate on his own, something that could show he's attentive and adoring and atoning, coming up blank every time... a man is going to try desperate measures.

Namely, asking strangers.]

Shit makes a bad gift, I'll agree with ya there. [He sighs softly.] I guess... What I'm really strugglin' with here is gettin' outside my own head. Y'know? Not overthinkin' everything I come up with.

[dreamsallotted]

[It was really a good thing they were doing this over the phone, or something bad might have happened. Seel was ready to hit something. Well not something. Barry. He was ready to hit you. For being a moron. ]

You're really having a problem with this very basic concept aren't you? It doesn't matter what you get her. Get them anything. Just stop thinking about it so damn much. I don't know this person, or I assume I don't since you wont mention their name. So I don't know what they might like.

But. If I were getting something for Swift, here? I might get him a trinket. Like a bracelet. Or one of my favorite snacks growing up. Something he hadn't seen or had before. Something that had a story behind it. Or just something that caught my eye. I got him a skirt the other day because I thought he'd like it.

........

Do you need a shopping partner?

[barold]

["Just stop thinking about it so damn much". God, if only Barry knew how to do that.

He feels like a shithead constantly shooting down or questioning the stranger's helpful ideas. It's not like he means to. Honestly, he'd much rather not be doing this. If he'd been able to think of anything worthy of Lup's attention, he wouldn't have put out a public call like this. There are such limited resources in this city, and Lup is so special to him, and he's scared out of his mind he'll screw up again, and what if he just makes things worse, and what if--]

Huh?

[The stranger's question pulls him out of his spiral, making him blink at the camera, bewildered. Did he just..?] I... Uh. A-Are you offerin'..?

[dreamsallotted]

[How the hell did this guy managed to be married for a eighty years or a century and not have this down already? Sure finding gifts might get hard after so long, but not if you really new the person. Right? He didn't have that much trouble finding something for Swift. More often than naught a simple day without paperwork, locked in their bedroom together with good food and sheh was good enough. The thing in the box didn't matter. ]

Yeah, I'm offering. You seem like you need help.

A lot of it.

You want to tell me more about this hypothetical person you're getting a gift for that you've been married to more than eighty years?