qunqun
Give me your herbs, worm.
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Matt
The Philosopher...
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OCTOBER 31ST.
The thing about names was that Matt was born with this one. But it was not the one he utilized throughout his entire life.
Hurried suitcases and new passport shoved into the hands of a toddler. The crouching of a parent - travel companion more like - as they went over the details of the new identity. They were a family of three trying to pass the border. His name was not Matt, it was Alphonse. It was Louis. It was Jonathan. It was anything and everything that it could call for, he just had to keep it all straight in his head.
It made waking up in the mornings a trip and a half when he had to remind himself what identity he was supposed to be, what country he was in, what language he was supposed to speak.
Matt was a bit busy the first time he was asked what his name was, chatting to the carnival barker and weaving a sob story about how he was about to go back into the military on leave and this was the last day he had to spend with his girlfriend and if he could please please have a discount for the five fucking dollars it took to play the game of darts.
Seriously. Five. Fucking. Dollars. For seven darts, what a rip off.
Anyways the sob story worked and he managed to talk the guy working there down to a nice and manageable 2 dollars. Aimed as best as he could. And then threw in a nice arc that popped three on the way down.
Another sharp and self-satisfied grin to his “girlfriend” as he looked at her.
I’m Ava. What’s your name?
“Matteo Allen fucking Wright.” He said, still in the character of a triumphant boyfriend winning his girl a massive bear and totally not just ripping off this fair game. He hoped he picked the right name at that moment in his gloating. “On weekends only.”
And threw that in there for a joke.
The barker did not, in fact, look very happy with Matt both ripping him off and then immediately using the blunted darts to throw them at an angle where gravity would do all the work for him.
He handed Ava four as well with a terribly chipper “For my lovely pooky-bear.”
Because he was that type of awful.
And then he gave the barker a wink and fling the dart with enough force that it managed to pop a balloon anyways even without the need to cheat. Tongue pressed against his cheek, he then proceeded to get exactly the right amount of balloons popped for the highest prize.
And then he chose the most obnoxiously large bear with pink hearts all over it and a red heart carried between its paws. He hauled it over his shoulder.
“…. I think I’ll name him Gregory. He is our son.” There was too much glee in his voice as he slung an arm over Ava as they walked away. Once a sufficient distance away from the scammed game master he leaned in and whispered “You get the name of the game, now?”
now playing...
Indigo Night
Tamino
♡coded by uxie♡