2025-03-20 - After Hours at the Amphitheatre

Normally, Thursdays are one of Ravin's days off, but the schedule got moved around because of St. Patrick's Day. It's the end of the day and the last show is over. The audience has all gone. And Ravin finally is back in his own clothes and has his make-up removed. He hasn't bothered putting new make-up on, but he's gathering his last things to finally make his way home. Or at least out of the theater.

Carl doesn't work Castle Island, usually. But he also doesn't visit the mainland, ever, and when you've been on the islands for over a year you're bound to want some variety in your day-to-day, so he trades shifts and fills in whenever he gets the opportunity. That's what's brought him to the Amphitheatre tonight, in place of any of the usual faces. Since it's after hours he hasn't bothered trading in his Spellbound jumpsuit for the local variant, the shoulders of the baggy gray garment patched with blue and violet. He's left his cart at the top level while he navigates a push-behind floor scrubber down the stairs towards the stage, still getting everything set up. When he spots Ravin he gives a wave in acknowledgement.

Ravin pauses by the ghost light (the open bulb on a stand traditionally left lit on stages overnight) and gives Carl a wave back. "Hey. Don't think I've met you before, but I'm not usually here Thursdays. I'm Ravin." He's in flowy, black pants and a purple velvet coat for his trip home.

"Hey," Carl calls back with a nod. He gets the scrubber down the steps at a good pace, and then locks the handle upright and leaves it there once he reaches the stage. Scrubbing comes last. "I'm not usually here at all, but Linda caught a bug, so I'm filling in. Carl," he says, tapping his nametag, "nice to meetcha. You perform here?" He looks around, taking it in from the bottom.

Ravin nods. "Yeah. The show's called Some Enchanted Evening, though we switch up what's in the show every couple of months." Ravin looks concerned at the news about Linda. "I do hope she gets better soon. I like chatting with her. I'm guessing from the jumpsuit you usually work on the main island. Any particular sub-area there?"

"I'll pass that along, she'll appreciate it," Carl says. "She's doing alright, just being careful. You know how things can spread in a place like this." He glances down at the violet patch on his shoulder, and nods. "Yeah. Usually work the Boo'edwalk, but I get around a little more than some folks. Nice place," he says, looking over his shoulder again up towards the lanterns, then back out toward the lake, "good ambience. Beats all the organ music I'm used to, anyway. What kind of show you put on these days?"

Ravin laughs. "Oh, it's always Great American Song Book kind of things. Well, some aren't American, but showtunes, folk music, some jazz and pop. Currently, we've got a bunch of Irish music or at least Irish themed music, some drinking songs, and a bunch of stuff about rain and spring."

"Ugh," Carl groans reflexively at the mention of Irish music. Realizing how that might be taken, he's quick to raise a hand in apology. "Uh, sorry, I'm sure it's a great set, just... flashbacks to St. Patty's day. It's like D-Day for custodians, especially when you work around the bar. I'll have to come check it out some time, maybe after they change the lineup."

Ravin grins. "No worries. I'd think there are plenty of days like that, though. Cinco de Mayo, Superbowl, New Years... There are too many drinking holidays, really."

"You got that right," Carl says with a laugh. "Especially if you're not one of the ones drinking. Most of the rest of them don't come with so much Green No. 3, though." He makes a face and shudders, just for show. "Though I guess now that you mention it, New Years really is the one to watch out for around here. At least St. Patty's didn't come with a whole new suite of ghouls and gremlins - though I'm still keeping my eyes out for leprechuans."

"Leprechauns would be wild, but upsetting." Ravin nods. "I had not considered the dangers of food dye. I will concede your point on that."

"Not like they'd be out of place," Carl says, pulling a small roll of trashbags out of one of the baggy pockets of his jumpsuit. "Though I guess most of the stuff showing up has been... original IP, you might call it." He unrolls a bag, tears it off and shakes it loose, then shoves the roll away again. He looks around the lowest row of benches, forming his plan of attack.

Ravin nods. "It is true. You can not copyright leprechauns. You can possibly trademark certain specific representations of leprechauns. Though I suppose we have dragons and fairies, but they've all got names and specific personalities and such."

"Right? And the weirder stuff. Those little water lizards with the big eyes, the candy-eating rabbit things that started popping up all over in February." Carl shakes his head. "Could get diabetes just looking at 'em. Lucky stuff for marketing, I'm sure the t-shirts and plushies will make a mint." He makes his way over to the nearest set of benches to start tidying up, talking over his shoulder as he goes. Themepark crowds are awful about leaving cups and wrappers in the seating areas, as a rule, and he starts loading them into the bag as he finds them. "What kind of critters you get on Castle? Anything special? Boo'edwalk has its own whole menagerie of miniature creeps."

"I haven't seen anything particular around the amphitheater. I should probably go wandering and see if there's something specific to here. And yeah, I have one of the snugglebunnies. Named him Point. He's cute. And I've even forgiven him for eating all of my cough drops one night." Ravin stretches a bit. "Let me know if I should stop bothering you while you're working. I've just got a bit of time before the next ferry, so I might as well chat."

"Not at all," Carl says, looking back over his shoulder as a display of sincerity, "It's nice having some company. Appreciate it, not all the performers would stop to chat." He doesn't seem to be in a particular hurry, anyway. He finds a hat that someone left under one of the benches, black and silver with a little crown sitting in a pink circle on the front. Queen's Castle merch, presumably. He looks it over, decides it's clean, and since he has no place else to stick it 'til he can get by Lost & Found he puts it on. It sits on top of his head, a size or two too small. "Point, huh? That's cute. Know someone else who's got one, calls it 'Fluff'. She's a performer, too, actually."

Ravin grins and heads over to sit on the lip of the stage. "Well then, I can wait here as easily as at the ferry terminal." He studies the man in coveralls. "So, how'd you decide to come work here? And how long have you been here?"

"Long story," he chuckles, seeming to consider how much to go into. "Short version? Needed steady work, and a place I couldn't make too many big mistakes. Company town on an island seemed like a good fit. Wasn't expecting all the..." He waves his free hand in the air and wiggles his fingers in a vaguely magical fashion. "But it's worked out pretty well so far. Been here a little less than a year and a half. You?"

"Just a couple of months. And... I needed some time away from the city I was living in. The job here looked fun and like I could both have some variety and yet, not have to look for a new job every couple of months." Ravin shrugs. "I'm kind of enjoying the less usual aspects, honestly."

"I'm not not enjoying it," Carl says, almost hesitantly, like an admission. "Seeing people fly. Make fire with their fingers. Turn into horses or whatever. My roommate can make stuff big, you know? Like," he holds his hands close together, then spreads them further apart, like that's a concept that needs demonstration. "A little jealous I didn't get any of the good stuff, but who wouldn't enjoy just seeing it, right? Still, hard not to wonder what it all means, sometimes."

Ravin nods and considers, "Does it need to have a meaning? To some extent the meaning is what we make it, isn't it? I would be interested to know why here and not anywhere else, but... I suppose it also could be happening other places and we just don't know about it."

\"I've had that same thought," Carl says, turning around briefly to nod. "Can't just be here. It's a flyover state, fuck's sake. I've kept my eye out, in the news and... and Youtube, and all that, but I've never seen anything definite. How would you even know, though, right?" He gets more animated, stuffing paper cups and fliers into his bag with more energy than is strictly called for. "It's not just the hows-and-whys, though. It's... what if it keeps spreading? What's the next thing gonna show up? What's it mean that ghosts are real? That's a big one."

He seems to realize he's getting a little worked up, and stops. He shakes his head and laughs, a little frustrated, mostly resigned. "But that's all above my pay grade. I just mop floors. Anyway, it's a pretty good ride to be stuck on, mostly."

Ravin hmmms. "The ghosts are troubling, yes. Though those are also something found in every culture in one way or another. I haven't run into any ghosts here, yet, myself. So I don't know what they're like."

"I run into them plenty," Carl says, not sounding entirely pleased about it. "That's my thing, my island thing. See 'em and shoo 'em off. One of the reasons I get around so much, they call me in to clean up that kind of mess sometimes. Don't know much more about them than anyone else, though. It'd be a lot more fun if I could fly, I'll tell you that."

Ravin laughs. "Ah, well, fair. I can't fly either, for the record." Then he thinks more. "Huh. Well, do they seem to still be people who can be talked to and reasoned with or do they seem more.. echoes? Or somehow stuck?"

"Not fair, is it? Everyone should get that one, if you ask me," Carl says, flashing back a grin to show he's joking, after all the complaints he's been making. "And I wish I could tell you for sure. I'm better at making 'em go away than I am at talking to 'em. Mostly I get called when they're making a mess. Those tend to be kind of weird and one-note, not too interested in sharing the secrets of life after death. I hear some of them are nicer, though, there's a girl in Storybrook supposed to have all kinds of spooky friends."

"Huh. I suppose that makes sense." Ravin nods. "Yeah, angry people aren't that easy to talk to so I suppose angry ghosts wouldn't be either. I think it would be cool for everyone to be able to fly. Not sure people with acrophobia would agree, though."

"Right? And people usually get mad when you try and kick 'em out of somewhere, I've been kicked out of enough places to know. But it's all part of the job," Carl shrugs. He's about done with the first row of benches, looking back over them to review his work. "Good point. Maybe they could tunnel instead. But I gotta get at the upper levels, and I think it's about time for you to ship out, anyway. Thanks for stopping to chat, I'll tell Linda you said hi."

Ravin checks his watch. "Yep. Gotta run. Hope you don't find anything too creepy or disgusting." He climbs back to his feet and heads out with a wave.