[ He'd told Dahlia before coming that they didn't have to stay if she didn't want to, but it's just as much an out for him as for her, and at her answering enthusiasm he'd only braced himself. Ash's appearance fits in better here than his manner — he's always been quiet, always kept to a table on the sidelines while Marisol disappeared into the mosh pit after unsuccessfully attempting to pull him in with her.
At least this time he's got the excuse of Dahlia, who seems to be trying to make herself as small as possible and using him as a shield. He can actually sympathize; he didn't always blend in himself, in his slacks and cardigans and button-downs.
All that said, he doesn't hate coming these days, and he makes a habit of not going places he doesn't want to be (unless Dahlia asks him to, a recent development, but even she's chosen her battles since the Whole Foods incident). At seventeen he'd been getting just angry enough — at his mother, at himself — to enjoy Jeff's music, if only for being a far cry from the classical he grew up with. It's familiar by now, could be worse, and he still gets something out of it even if he's not in the thick of things. ]
Good show, man, [ he says when Jeff makes his ways over. Ash doesn't make any special effort to stand, but he's facing him in his chair, which for Ash is downright friendly. ]
When Ash had told her they could leave if she felt uncomfortable, she'd refused, wanting to support his friends — he rarely leaves the store, and Dahlia doesn't push him to. It just means that when he does choose to go out, she wants to make the most of it, for his sake.
Which is why they're still here. She's not scared, per se, even if the music is louder than she's used to and the crowd seems less than savory. Just. Nervous. Glad Ash is with her. She can feel the hum of the dark magic swirling around her, but wisely keeps from reaching out to it. She doesn't think anyone would really appreciate her vomiting all over the table.
She does smile when Jeff approaches. But she can't really find her voice to say anything. ]
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At least this time he's got the excuse of Dahlia, who seems to be trying to make herself as small as possible and using him as a shield. He can actually sympathize; he didn't always blend in himself, in his slacks and cardigans and button-downs.
All that said, he doesn't hate coming these days, and he makes a habit of not going places he doesn't want to be (unless Dahlia asks him to, a recent development, but even she's chosen her battles since the Whole Foods incident). At seventeen he'd been getting just angry enough — at his mother, at himself — to enjoy Jeff's music, if only for being a far cry from the classical he grew up with. It's familiar by now, could be worse, and he still gets something out of it even if he's not in the thick of things. ]
Good show, man, [ he says when Jeff makes his ways over. Ash doesn't make any special effort to stand, but he's facing him in his chair, which for Ash is downright friendly. ]
no subject
When Ash had told her they could leave if she felt uncomfortable, she'd refused, wanting to support his friends — he rarely leaves the store, and Dahlia doesn't push him to. It just means that when he does choose to go out, she wants to make the most of it, for his sake.
Which is why they're still here. She's not scared, per se, even if the music is louder than she's used to and the crowd seems less than savory. Just. Nervous. Glad Ash is with her. She can feel the hum of the dark magic swirling around her, but wisely keeps from reaching out to it. She doesn't think anyone would really appreciate her vomiting all over the table.
She does smile when Jeff approaches. But she can't really find her voice to say anything. ]