Thinkin' Cap

Ravenswood 
#1


An art walk! Right here near home! Simon could not have asked for a better thing to spend his next few evenings doing. It would be set up for Friday through Monday evening, so he had plenty time to come out and enjoy strolling through the sectioned off strip of a more historical part of Ravenswood. Stalls lined the streets and rooted down stray alleyways, sporting hundreds of different pieces of artwork displayed at booths and on racks and hooks and shelves! The evening called for strings of fairy lights to be lit above the thoroughfare, which was just a nice and relaxing atmosphere to enjoy.

Simon had been drawn to a booth that sold handmade clothing. Shawls decorated in rhinestones and sequins, patches and baubles. Pants that were patchwork of denim and corduroy, or made of stretchy and flowy materials. But, the main event? The three veritcal racks stocked full of hats! All kinds. Big, floppy, small and stiff, beanies, caps, sun hats, fedoras. All in a bouquet of different colors, textures, accent decorations. Ribbons, feathers, buttons, flowers! Simon could not have been drawn to something more than he was to the hats.


He approached with a wide grin, his hands reaching out for a hat that he spied from among the hundreds of others. Holding it before him, he pressed his lips together in consideration, then turned to look about for a mirror. He didn't spot one. He did, however, spot someone nearby that had a pair of eyes and what he trusted was an honest opinion. So, he stepped a bit closer, and moved to fit the hat upon his head. "What do you think?" He questioned, as if he were asking an old friend's opinion.


@Minnie Mouse
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#2


 It had been weeks, maybe months, since Minerva intentionally went out to a nighttime activity. It was intimidating, and maybe pretty stupid, but it was easy to rationalize - the art walk would be bustling with people, and she had her cross, her power, and a brand new can of pepper spray. She didn't want to be hindered by fear - she wanted to be able to go out and feel safe!

 Still, as she walked, she was hyper vigilant - paranoid, even, trying to watch and hear everything happening around her in the ebbing and flowing crowd. Most of the booths were well-lit, with the strings of lights and occasional spotlights to illuminate various goods in the night. It was harder to be absorbed in pieces of art and trinkets that would otherwise consume her awareness - she was more nervous than she'd anticipated being, not as brave as she wished she was. A for effort, maybe.

 She wandered into a stall full of clothing that had a very homey feel, her eyes wandering over the various colors and patterns and textures. She realized, slowly, that the cross beneath her shirt was warming against her skin, a warning she was keenly aware of, and immediately her hand came to cover it. Just in time for a guy to turn and take a step toward her, elevating the warmth beneath her hand, as he put a hat on and asked for her opinion. She looked around quickly, to see if he was talking to anyone else - or if anyone else, perhaps less-savory looking, was even around - before looking back at him. What did she think? Her eyes traveled up to the hat, and she let out a nervous little laugh.

 "It's very colorful," she said slowly, carefully. "I like it." She probably would have said so even if she didn't like it, but it was a good look, even if it didn't exactly go with his shirt. It sat well on his curly-haired head.
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#3
The girl looked very young, very pretty, and smelled very good. Among those three notable features, he spied her clutching at her chest. A small chain hung around her neck, and he did think he spotted the squared top of a cross. Oh! He'd certainly come across this phenomenon hundreds of times. Many soldiers he worked on during the war bore crosses that on occasion would glow and burn. He kept where he was, but was not at all put off from speaking to her. Especially as she complimented the hat!

"It is!" He agreed with a nod. His eyes moved to the rack, spying for.... ah! That one. He grabbed a hat from the rack, and held it out to her. "This one for you." He advised with a dopey smile and slightly squinted eyes.
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#4
 Minerva thought of Will, and Marybeth, as she followed the man's gaze along the hat rack. They weren't all bad, she tried to assure herself, and honestly, she should have anticipated this, going out at night. It was the root of her anxiousness, after all. She was fine. This was fine. She'd try to adjust the strap of her purse to cover the cross, almost embarrassed by it, concerned about what anyone else might think in spite of the very reason she wore it.

 His hands picked out a hat that looked relatively giant, and she laughed again, more genuine, as he held it out toward her. Carefully, she took it from him, almost unsure of how to handle the floppy weight, and lifted it to put it on her head. It was comically large, the big soft brim nearly drooping around her shoulders, and she snickered. "I gotta see this," she remarked, digging into her purse, past the pepper spray, to pull out her phone and open the forward-facing camera. She'd have to hold it out to the full length of her arm to really see how big and kind of ridiculous it was.

 "Oh my god," she laughed. It was really cute, honestly, but maybe not quite her style. She considered the vampire for a moment, then turned the phone so that he could use it as a mirror. "I think yours is a better fit."
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#5
She looked wonderful! Simon grinned and bounced on the balls of his feet, eager for her to see as she opened her phone camera. "It suits you!" He informed her, and lifted his brows as she turned her phone toward him. He liked his, too! His hands moved to adjust it on his head. Colorful! "There's too many here to just choose the first one you pick," He said after a moment, and lifted the hat from his head, and looked back to the rack. "Hmmm," He hummed pensively, eyes squinting as he lifted his fingers to rub at the scruff of his chin, "Do you see another?"
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#6
 Minerva smiled a little for his compliment, working hard on looking at him as a person and not a monster. She watched him peer into the screen, glancing at his fingers as they held the brim and adjusted the hat on his head. Once he was done, she'd pocket the phone again, however temporarily, and followed his gaze again as he spoke. "Yeah." Maybe it was some kind of twisted curiosity that kept her planted - but also, he really was super nice, and she was materialistic enough to be lured in by the broad selection of hats. He was right - there were too many to settle for the first pick.

 She looked over them all with a thoughtful hum to echo his, holding the floppy hat in her hand as she considered all the choices. She found herself drawn to a selection of a smaller size - black felt hats that sort of looked like fedoras, but cuter. Most of them had bands around the box: one was a colorful, intricately pattered band made of tiny beads sewn together. Another was a leather braid from which tiny silver coins hung. After a few moments, she'd put the giant hat away and reach for a simpler one, carefully running her finger across the beautiful feather that rested against one side of the box.

 She put it on carefully, and rather than grabbing her phone right off the bat, she would try to keep this interactive, looking to the man again with a sheepish sort of grin. "Pretty sharp, huh," she asked with a mirthful chuckle, running her forefinger and thumb gently around the brim. Another hat in the men's area distracted her almost immediately, and she would point to it with a genuine sort of awe. "Whoa, that one's cool, too," she remarked. Was that actual wood?
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#7
He scanned the different shapes and sizes, materials and colors. It was pretty hard to focus on one thing in particular, with so much to see! The girl spotted one, and pulled it down. He looked to when prompted, and he widened his eyes as he nodded. "Very, very classy... Like a jazz singer!" Sinatra! He did love Sinatra. Her pointing drew him to one in particular, to which he aptly responded with an, "Oh!" A hand reached out, and he lifted it from its hook to bring down to inspect. His fingers pressed against the brim, from above and below in a test to see if it was indeed solid wood. "It's real, that's wonderful." He declared with a mellow grin and a soft laugh. Onto his head it went, sitting at a comfortable angle.
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#8
 Classy, like a jazz singer. She grinned a little, watching him pluck the wooded brim hat off the rack. He confirmed her curiosity, and she nodded with an expression that declared she was impressed. "Very cool." And it looked good on him! Maybe he just had the kind of head that could go well with any hat. Her grin persisted, even as she took the feathered hat off and gingerly returned it. She wasn't much of a hat wearer, as it were, but maybe she could be converted after all this.

 Her eyes caught yet another hat, almost tacky in its over-the-top decor. She'd reach for it anyway, guffawing as she inspected the mountain of feathers and silk roses. "What on earth," she laughed, and placed it on her head anyway, somewhat precariously. She wasn't sure how to make it snug without potentially damaging something. "Care for a spot of tea?" she asked in her best rendition of a British accent (it was terrible, and Dylan might be offended by it).
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#9
She pulled another down that looked like a hat he'd seen the women that attended royal weddings wear! Her impression was poorly, but he chuckled nonetheless, his eyes scanning quickly for something to match. Aha! He pulled his hat off in exchange for a top hat he pulled from the rack. "I do say, I'd quite fancy that! Only after the royal wedding, of course!" His impression of the pompous British aristocrat was, admittedly, more accurate. Only because he had spent over a century in the country he had been born in!
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#10
 Trepidation took a back seat to the playfulness she'd been moved to by playing dress up with hats. Honestly, these fancy ones were more fun, mostly because she'd never be caught wearing them otherwise. The vampire retorted with an accent that was honestly dead on, like something straight off the BBC, and for all it was awesome, the words he spoke made her guffaw, covering her mouth as she laughed. "Splendid!" But otherwise, she was sure anything else that came out of her mouth about this would be downright stupid. Still, a gap of silence seemed as nerve wracking as anything else, and so she would put her hand out somewhat hurriedly. "I'm Minerva," she introduced herself, and anticipated the cold touch of a dead hand.
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#11
Splendid! What a wonderful word. He did not use that quite as often as he ought to. She extended a hand, and he made very certain that she was not wearing a matching bracelet to her necklace before he took her fingers delicately in his, then dropped into an exaggerated bow. So much so, that the hat came right off of his head! He was quick enough to catch it, with a small 'whoop!' and a laugh as he held it upside down in his hand. "Simon! A pleasure, Minerva. What a wonderful name!" He wondered if it was a family name, or if he parents were inspired by names used in the past. Or! Perhaps! After Professor McGonagall herself!
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#12
 He took her hand - cold as she expected, and she thought briefly of having held Marybeth's hand in her car - and then bowed! And she couldn't help but chirp a little laugh, endeared and almost embarrassed all at once. Simon, the hat-catching vampire. She grinned sheepishly, and would carefully remove the obnoxious hat from her head as well. "Thanks. It's nice to meet you, Simon." Tone level, but kind, as she lifted the hat to hang it back in its place again. "Do you.... have a lot of hats?" That seemed like a good question to ask. Or maybe he was just here to play dress up, too.
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#13
She was very kind, even if she was just a touch nervous. Likely she knew what he was, but she was kind enough not to comment on it. Perhaps she knew that most vampires were not so bad as they had been made out to be fore centuries and centuries. "I do not!" He admitted with a raise of his brows. "I collect a lot of things, but not hats. I guess this is a good place to start one." He stepped back to look up at the racks fully, hands on his hips, though he still clutched the top hat in one hand.
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