Othello didn't even stop to take the escalator down—it couldn't be helped. She was just that anxious to get a move on. Vere couldn't resist the urge to laugh as he raised a hand to his lips.
Thought power pooled beneath his feet. He was pretty surprised at how good he was getting at using it as he took off at a moment's notice.
The speed of his movements caused air to stir in his ears, evoking a subtle whooshing noise. He was surprised that even with the utilization of his energy, he could still barely keep up with her.
That was because she was anxiously running about, wasting as much time as possible and looping around the second floor a couple of times. They soon arrived before an open area overlooking the second floor, the window paned guard rail reflecting Othello's image as she leaped upwards!
She stood before Happy's door, looking back at Vere and beckoning him closer with a wagging finger. The man shrugged and did the same, backflipping midair and landing facing the exact way the ascension started.
"You're really good at that, huh?" She said, cupping her fingers over her mouth. Vere's lips formed a mischievous smile as he advanced, sauntering over to her side.
"I'd imagine I'd be better at it than someone wearing such a tight dress. Don't you ever need to breathe?" He gestured at her cheongsam as his voice took on a teasing tone.
"Well, no. Yes? Um, it depends." She said no more, sweeping the diamond-patterned door aside and showcasing the place as she skipped inside.
"If you're done messing with me, come in here already!" Her voice sounded so far away, even though she couldn't have moved that far in just a few seconds.
Or could she? Othello was most likely a lot more capable than Vere knew; he at least thought as much. Vere nodded to himself as he realized a new lesson today.
It's better not to have any expectations of another. It makes it much easier not to be surprised in the long run.
Stepping through the lopsided doorway, he whistled at the sight unfolding before him. He felt his perspective rapidly lengthen—as if the room was becoming larger the longer he stood there.
Many things stood out, but the first thing he set his eyes on, in particular, was a delicate chandelier hanging by red and white threads. Its materials were unmistakable and clandestine, while it was surrounded by several golden circular arches that resembled the rings of Saturn. Opal ballerina dolls eternally danced on these rings, making them their very own aerial stage.
This same chandelier overlooked stark white floors that twitched and changed whenever someone took their eyes off them. They featured garish and bright shapes placed with no rhyme or reason—most likely because they kept moving and shifting into different forms entirely.
Besides the window allowing a glimpse of the relatively plain kitchen, there seemed to be no place to sit. This was the same for the whole restaurant…because every site was enclosed in a carnival tent.
The walls were packed with empty picture frames of all sizes, and they sometimes stood beneath random pillars with ornate carnival fashioning.
The whole place was pretty bizarre, but Vere found charm in it. Sweeping his head this way and that, he soon spotted Othello rummaging around in the kitchen.
Rapidly, her face's porcelain skin was dyed stark white. Blue paint dripped from her eyelashes and formed patterns of hearts, and her lips became even bluer than usual. A splotch covered her left eye, and she put a rubber nose atop her own.
'… It's kind of cute. I don't know if I should laugh or cry, though.' Vere's nose bridge darkened as he suppressed an unusual fit of laughter. He liked the place's ambiance, which seemed to fit some of his aesthetics.
When he thought about it, it reminded him a bit of the Conspiracy branch.
With steady steps, he brought himself up to the window oddly so high that it rose past his chest. Keeping in mind that he was a 6" 4-foot tall man, that structure was quite tall overall.
It made it even stranger that he and Othello seemed to be the same height. She mocked rolled-up sleeves that didn't exist as she shifted her stance, arching her back and placing a hand on her waist.
'Alright, alright… you've got this. Here I go..!' She thought, raising her other hand and wagging it back and forth as her lips parted.
"Welcome to Happy's! The only thing that isn't funny is our food quality~ Now, if you'd like something, go sit down puh~lease~!"
"Hm. And how will I do that? There aren't exactly places to sit here, you know." He allowed his face to form a faint smile as he relaxed his brows. Othello responded with an exaggerated smile and just prodded at one of the carnival tents before laying out her palm and mimicking sitting with her other hand.
Vere shrugged and did as he was told. Then, pulling open a tent, the image visibly whirled and shifted—the very world warping subtly as a table shimmered into existence. A chair composed of chuckling statues sat at it.
"Huh…she really pulled out all the stops here. Interesting, do they all change depending on who enters? Or is it random?" He sat at the seat and waited while the very fabric around him was being rapidly torn apart by lacquered hands.
Vere's keen eyes narrowed as the whole of Happy's was revealed to him once again, including the owners of those rending hands. They all wore different masks—their only shared trait being a sewn-together smile.
They had grayish skin and wore surprisingly simple waiter attire. Some of them seemed to have fur, some scales, and some something else entirely. They all bowed in unison as they pirouetted, only one stepping forward.
The mute waitress handed him a menu with a red spine and bears along the cover. He flipped it open and spotted several items that all looked normal, though they had some bear motif for some reason.
Some of the items were even MADE of bears. Wondering where exactly she got the meat from due to pure curiosity, he simply selected a stew and handed it back to the waitress.
She nodded again and bowed, her head rapidly rotating as she contorted her body into a graceful display of flexibility. They all leaped, pranced, and twirled away, the one that accepted Vere's order hopping through the window like a frog.
Othello nodded and fished around the kitchen…pulling out a comically oversized mallet. She heaved her chest and brought it up, repeatedly smashing down on something below her!
That wasn't all she did. She pulled out pies from a floating oven and juggled them before tossing them in the trash. She danced with otherworldly elegance that put all the ballet movements of the waiters to shame, showing off the fact that she and she alone was the star hanging in the elusive night sky.
'It's a sight beyond my ken. She really is glowing today. If I'd seen anything in my past that was prettier, it's a good thing to have amnesia for now. Just so this moment isn't overshadowed by anything else.' Vere thought in appreciation. Outwardly, his expression didn't seem to change at all, but his body language lost some of its rigidity as he leaned over and watched intently.
20 minutes of various antics ensued before Othello handed over a piping hot bowl of bear stew to a waitress. She bowed as the sewn smile stretched upwards, twirling like a tornado as she shot out from the kitchen and into the main area.
She handed Vere his meal, and he thanked her with a wave of his hand and a smile as he closed his eyes.
Taking his time to look at the gleaming golden brown chunks of meat floating about in the thick, deep broth, he admired the yellow chunks of potato and the intense orange of the carrots. It smelled vibrant, emitting a subtle spicy hint mainly overtaken by the sheer decadence of the steam wafting off it.
Vere took the spoon in the bowl and scooped up a good amount, shoving it into his mouth to calm his rumbling stomach.
'…My eyes feel wet. I'm not crying, am I? This stuff is fucking amazing!' He gobbled it all up quickly with almost feral ferocity. No sooner had he started than the bowl emptied, and his irises slid over towards a shivering Othello, who held a ladle in both hands.
A single tear slid down his face, accompanied by a deep voice.
"It's wonderful."