#takes place in the past again!!! probably during magitek academy days

[clockwork-sparrow]

Folly

CW: Swearing

Oliver’s car is an eighty miles-per-hour iron deathtrap of barely contained bubblegum pop and takeout. Even through closed windows, others can hear (feel) sound rattle every inch of his car on tempo, and it’s immeasurably worse inside. The music’s loud enough to drown out a plane, the smell of fast food is heart-attack inducing, and Oliver drives like he’s shaking off cops. He jovially sings along without a care in the world as Florus, riding shotgun, struggles to balance a jenga tower of packaged food and drinks on his lap.

“OLLIE!” Florus yells as he frantically catches a soda from spilling. “TURN DOWN THE FUCKING MUSIC, OLLIE! AH -- SHIT?!”

A box of takeout slips free from the tower and flips over at Florus’s feet. Oliver doesn’t notice.

“SO COMFORTABLE WE’RE LIVIN’ IN A BUBBLE, A BUBBLE! SO COMFORTABLE WE CANNOT SEE THE TROUBLE, THE TROUBLE!” Oliver screams, because he can’t hear himself over the music otherwise.

Florus makes a desperate sound between laughing and crying. With his hands full, Florus bites a straw from the top of the Leaning Tower of Takeout, yanks it out of the soda cup it’s stabbed into, and then spits it at the side of Oliver’s face right as he presses on the gas. The car swerves violently, and it’s a miracle that Florus doesn’t end up slathered in spilled food.

“Yo, what the--” Oliver stops. If he can’t hear himself then neither can Florus. He turns down the music. “What the shit! Are you trying to get us killed?”

“Maybe,” Florus dryly responds. “Because this is worse than death.”

Oliver laughs. “My car, my rules, bitch. Deal with it.”

Oliver attempts to dial the volume back up, causing Florus to reach over and stop him. The left half of the takeout tower collapses as Florus slaps Oliver’s hand away.

“HEY. You had one job!” Oliver says as a chicken tender bounces off the stick shift, shedding puddles of grease.

“I swear, if you turn up the music again, I’m gonna open the door and throw all of this shit out,” Florus rants. “And then myself.”

“You wouldn’t,” Oliver says.

Oliver really should be paying attention to the road, but. He chances a quick glance at Florus and finds him staring at him.

“You wouldn’t,” Oliver says again.

He steals several more glances and continues to see the same thing. Florus, still staring, still silent. Oliver nods to himself and looks straight ahead thinking: Yeah, everything’s fine. Everything’s cool. Just keep driving.

Oliver slams his hand on the child locks right as Florus yanks on the door. More food topples over.

“Suck-my-dick-you-fucking-giant---” Florus tries the car window instead.

“FLORUS, PLEASE! I’M DRIVING!” Oliver screams. He looks away from the road towards Florus again, sees the window rolling down, and counters by pressing a finger on the master window controls. The glass jerks up and down.

“OLLIE!” Florus shouts.

“FLORUS, SOMETIMES I HATE YOU SO MUCH,” Oliver yells through a manic grin, going insane.

“THAT’S--” Florus pauses. That’s fair. Wait. “NO, OLLIE, THE ROAD!”

Oliver sees a turn a second too late and slams on the brakes. All the food flies forward and slaps wetly against the inside of the windshield, then squeaks down as the car sputters to a blind stop.

“.......” Oliver, with his hands deathgripped on the steering wheel, turns to look at Florus. There’s a fry in his hair. Oliver returns to staring forward.

“Can--” Florus coughs. His throat has gone bone dry and he’s crying from adrenaline. “Can the car start?”

“Uh. Let me check.” Oliver presses on the gas and a whimpering gurgle wheezes out of the jalopy.

“The ignition?” Florus suggests as ketchup drips down and stings his eye. He drags a hand over to wipe it away.

“Yeah. Good idea,” Oliver says. He shifts the car back into neutral, turns it off, then turns it back on. The same sad sound shudders out of the tortured car. No dice.

“Jumper cables?” Florus tries.

“In the back,” Oliver says. 

Oliver clambers out of the car and forgets to release the child locks, so Florus crawls after him and exits out of the driver’s side like a worm. They end up waiting outside with a cable each, standing stiffly while reeking of burgers, awkwardly hoping that a kind stranger will pull over and help them jumpstart the car. After a minute, Oliver leans over and eats the fry that’s poking out of Florus’s hair.

“.......” Florus looks pained at first, but eventually, he turns. Sure enough, there’s another fry embedded on the other side of his hair. Oliver eats that one too, and after sharing a disbelieving silence, the two of them crack and start laughing.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING,” Florus yells through laughter. “IS THIS A NIGHTMARE?!”

“M-MAYBE?!” Oliver hacks on the fry. “Wait, your nightmare or mine?”

“What? Why does that matter?” Florus asks.

“Quick, make Ulala from the Songbirds appear!” Oliver commands, already deciding that it’s Florus’s nightmare.

“Piss off, Ulala sucks,” Florus laughs. 

“You take that back!” Oliver says as he half-heartedly whips Florus on the arm with his jumper cable.

“Ulala sucks!” Florus repeats, and he earns another smack from Oliver in response. Giggling, he stumble-runs away from Oliver.

“Then I shall defend my lady’s honor! Where are you running off to, you fiend?! Hhehhhyhhahhh--” Oliver spins his jumper cable over his head and accidentally lets go, tossing it past Florus and into the snow. “Shit!”

Florus’s laughter continues as Oliver gives chase. Just two idiots dicking around on the pullout of a highway, covered in fast food, slapping each other with jumper cables. Nothing unusual.

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Gloria slips off her noise canceling headphones, closes her laptop, and lets out a tired sigh. There’s more cramming to be done, but at least she managed to hyperfocus and make a lot of progress. She looks around herself from the backseat of the car and finds herself alone, childlocked in and confused. 

“Florus?” She presses her face against the car window. “Ollie?”