Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The Cycle Circus had been a beloved fixture of the Housedom for about a few decades now, founded by Washford the Washing Machine and Drysdale the Tumble Dryer out of a shared love for making a performance out of their work. Objects with some closely related involvement with the wash cycle process found themselves joining in as both a means of community and salary.

Sinclaire had a role of accounting the finances everywhere he had at spot at. In the Laundry Room, he did almost all of the work, collaborating with Hoove, who was the ticket man for the Circus shows, and Daisuke, the Circus's most consistent patron (more consistent than Wyndolyn, Curt, and Rod, which may be due to the fact that those three were much more spread out, and therefore, spread thin). If more than one of them couldn't be available, Tyrell would occasionally make time in between heading the main custodial duties of the Housedom, refusing compensation what with his strangely placed humility.

The initial meeting had been prompted due to House President Celia visiting, accompanied by Secretarial Vice Florence. It shouldn’t be a surprise, Washford and Drysdale never were whenever the two ladies came over, but it had apparently been that very day. The Sink witnessed the rare look on the two men’s faces when the Ceiling and Floor entered, graceful as ever.

“Celia, Florence!” Drysdale was the first to greet the two, pausing in the middle of finishing stretches, "What brings you two here?"

Celia simply gave the Stackables a curt nod, "We need to discuss a matter with you two concerning the cut the HOA gets from The Cycle Circus."

At that, Washford and Drysdale brought themselves quickly into more professional standing positions.

"Should we move somewhere more private?" Washford asked, gesturing towards his and Drysdale's shared rental space in the Laundry Room.

"That would be appreciated, Washford," Celia, with Florence trailing behind her, "I fear this information must be delivered with discretion."

Once the four disappeared from his line of sight, the Sink could only sigh. He wondered when the other Circus members were going to pick up on the gradually rising inflation every year? By normalizing the increase (and campaign funding) during Election season, it would be very easy for the HOA to raise the taxes on everyone even higher than they should.

Then again, what is Money to a bunch of objects with nothing better to do? The farce of order they all play, Sinclaire mused, had lost its flow.

Once upon a time, Dirk and the Hanks were very committed to their jobs as performers. Hoove would stick to his custodial duties and investigative contributions to Housedom Security. Now, the Hanks had to split after every show to devote themselves into their individual side hustles to get by (which had worsened since the time they had asked Willi to cut off their apparently predatory Red Bowl sponsorship), and Dirk (as Clarence), employed himself into Barry's Salon upstairs just so he can maintain his more eccentric lifestyle. Hoove volunteered to take Harper's intial job of ticket master just so he can pay his rent at the Washroom Closet and not be forced to relocate to the much more costly rent at the Lavish Lodgings in the Bedroom.

Not to mention, Sinclaire knew that he was only as comfortable as he was due to having work at four spots of the Housedom. Most objects weren't so lucky.

The Sink glanced at his notes, written on it the expenditures of the week so far, amounting to about 8750 Money. In a perfect world, Sinclaire believed that tickets and performing and all manner of good art didn't need to cost anything. That homes would be free to live in. That nutrition and care were freely given.

It wasn't long when Celia, Florence, and the Stackables returned to view. Washford didn't hide his clearly soured mood, while Drysdale maintained his pleasantries with a mildly strained smile.

"You know, ladies," Drysdale said before sending the two out through the Door, "We would really appreciate some compensation of sorts during future visits. I get that you busy yourselves with enough formalities as it is, but it's not one we here at the Laundry Room are granted often. I mean, you know that well, you're literally part of the House's Foundation."

"W-We'll keep that in mind," Florence had replied first. It was unknown if her apologetic words were deliberate or instinctual, but Sinclaire knew the Floor well enough to know that her sincerity could be easily twisted by things beyond her. It had certainly happened before.

"Yes," Celia added, "I'd like to apologize again for the suddenness of our visit. If the Human ever comes by to visit the Laundry Room, we'd be happy to discuss... that over tea in a future meeting."

Drysdale barked out a clearly fake laugh, "Of course, of course. Until later!"

As the Door slammed behind the two visitors, the Stackables began briskly walking in circles around each other in distress. As they did, Washford brought his hands to his temples, humming in frustration, while Drysdale began shaking his head angrily, hands on his hips.

Before Sinclaire could ask, Washford immediately caught the Sink looking at him and his partner.

"How much did you hear?" He asked Sinclaire, his dialogue breaking Drysdale from his movements.

"Enough to form a rumor, but not a report," Sinclaire replied, keeping his tone as neutral as possible, "How much have they raised the rent?"

"They're demanding a three percent increase," Drysdale said to the Sink, clearly stressed thinking about any big numbers of sorts.

"Which means they're asking for fifteen percent of the Circus's earnings now," Washford counted in his head. Sinclaire had observed that Washford was better with keeping up with Money talk (and it's no secret to everyone in the Washroom how much gentler he is with Monique whenever she got caught into random cycles).

"Why must we even have an Election at this rate?" The Dryer mused out in frustration, "Every year Celia runs, every year she is unopposed, and every year she wins! How on Earth does the Human being able to speak to us make her want to raise the rent more than usual?"

"It is as you said, Drydee," The Washing Machine sighed out wistfully, "The person who actually owns this entire House is now someone we can acknowledge. It's the discovery of new land, of new horizons, as we know, that make kings and emperors alike, hungry and terrified. More than they should be, frankly."

Sinclaire nodded subconsciously, in agreement with the Washing Machine.

Drysdale had a pensive expression on his face, clearly more concerned about Celia's character, "Do you really think the change will be that great, Washy?"

"As great as the tainted tides that make me tumble."

"Well," Sinclaire interrupted, pondering on the implications of the tax raise in real time, "if the HOA is raising the cut from us, we should expect the same to happen to everyone else in the coming days, assuming the cut hasn't been raised in some establishments already. Whenever that all happens, it'll likely be done just in time for the Party Registration period to end. You know, when all expected candidates would've acquired all necessary funds for campaigning."

"Don't tell me we have to raise the ticket prices again..." Washford mumbled out loud.

"Good heavens!" Drysdale blanched at the implications, "We just raised them six months ago! And poor Hoove, I know he got the brunt of the complaints for that."

"You still haven't compensated him for it, by the way," Sinclaire cut in.

"Damn it!" Drysdale exclaimed.

"Sinclaire," Washford groaned, "Could you call in everyone? I think it's clear to all of us that a meeting is in order."

And so he did, gathering all the available members of The Cycle Circus together so they can discuss the financial changes.

The Homeowner first made themselves known to Sinclaire in the Laundry Room. They clearly smelled like they had just eaten dinner—a fancier than usual dinner too, if the whiff of basil and oregano was of any indication. The meeting had just ended with everyone having dispersed, and the Human’s presence only extended the sense of unease that the Stackables, the last few objects besides the Sink that were still in the area, had about what was to come.

They were scrolling on their Phone as they entered, clearly reading something with so much concentration that they nearly bumped into Washford and Drysdale, who moved out of their way.

As the Door behind clicked close, they looked up and around, blinking at what was a clear realization of blindly walking into the Washroom space. They paused when they caught the Stackables staring at them.

1. "Is this where the Cycle Circus is supposed to be?"

2. "Yo."

"I'm afraid we're not open right now, my dear," Drysdale replied, "Our shows are during the morning!"

"It's preferable not to compete with the Theater," Washford added, "Or earn Chairemi's ire."

1. "I see. I suppose I can come back tomorrow, then?"

2. "Oh no, I wanted to get to know the performers better."

3. "Is Chairemi threatening the Circus?"

"As much as coffee can threaten tea," Washford replied, "Our relationship with the Playhouse Props Theater Troupe is as well and good as a sunny sky, free from the loud whistling of troubled winds and any whiff of petrichor. Your concern, nonetheless, is appreciated either way."

"What brings you here to our lovely little space?" Drysdale asked.

1. "I meant to see a show. It seems I'll have to come back tomorrow."

2. "I wanted to speak to the Circus performers! Perhaps conduct my own personal set of interviews."

"We are deeply sorry that you couldn't catch the show earlier," Drysdale began to gesticulate more in his dialogue, "Tydus and Ronaldini's performances are always very popular ones."

"Are they not performing anymore?" The Homeowner asked the Dryer.

"Oh, they still are," Drysdale chuckled warmly, "but not in a long while. They're much more high-maintenance than Washy and I, and believe me. We're very high-maintenance."

1. "How long do I have to wait?"

2. "What can I expect for tomorrow's show, then?"

"That would be Harper and Dirk's Juggle and Shuffle routine," Washford said, "An act we hope you'd enjoy should you come to see it."

1. "Are there any other acts I can look forward to?"

2. "I'll think about it."

3. "That sounds sick! Do I, uh, buy tickets or something?"

"Sinclaire!" Drysdale called out to the Sink, who had been watching the conversation unfold, "Do you think we can make the Human a permanent VIP?"

At that, the Homeowner looked at Sinclaire, surprised to be acknowledged at the moment.

"A-After what we just discussed?" The Sink managed out, then turned to the Homeowner, "Uh, I don't mean anything by it, mind you. Things have been more costly for everyone as of late."

1. "You guys have a currency?!"

2. "Damn, even my furniture can't escape the exploitative claws of Capitalism!"

3. "Shit. Maybe I can help in some way?"

"If you mean to alleviate the Circus's financial situation," Washford said to them, "the most you can do is endorse our performances. It's no obligation, but if you insist..."

1. "Of course. I'll do just that."

2. "I'll figure out something better that'll help you, just watch me!"

3. "There's no need for all that. Considering I was recommended to come over here, your clearly endorsed enough by everyone."

"Thank you very much, cherub," Drysdale smiled, "We can't wait to see you tomorrow."

Before the Homeowner could reply, the lenses of the strange Glasses they were wearing began to flicker.

"Looks like I'm running out of charge," They tapped at the edge of the rims, "I guess this is goodbye for now."

With that, they removed the Glasses and stood in a particular shock right afterwards. They glanced at the gadget in their hands, then around the Laundry Room, clearly unable to see Sinclaire or the Stackables in their field of vision.

Sighing, they left the Laundry Room.

Once they were gone, Sinclaire turned to Washford and Drysdale.

"If I were you, I'd tell Harper and Dirk to get ready."

Chapter Text

It had been a calm morning for The Lavatory Vanity. Barry and Amir were busy preparing for the anticipated increase in upcoming appointments that typically came during Election Season.

Sinclaire wasn't necessarily a stylist in the way Barry and the rest of his employ were, but he was good with cleanliness, organization, and money. He helped the Cosmetic Supplies remember the costs of his materials and other expenses spent on experimental and creative purposes, as well as aided him in ensuring his employees at the Salon were paid well and on time.

Amir was paid the most, as he was always available, followed by Clarence, who got a smaller cut to account for his absences when he would be performing at The Cycle Circus down at the Laundry Room. If he was free, specifically requested, or had nothing to write, Jon would do some work, of which he would be compensated for as well.

"Do you think Celia plans to have smoothening treatments this year?" Barry was discussing the potential requests they could be offered while concocting a plaster-foundation, "I've read some very informative articles about how her classic popcorn look is going out of fashion."

"She would need to believe that sort of thing first, I believe," Amir replied, marking down notes concerning their conversation, "So long as she insists upon her timelessness, the only level of maintenance she'll be willing to accept is one of significant repair."

"That's for Farya's Clinic, then, not us," Barry paused in his work, glancing briefly at the Mirror before returning to mixing, "Sinclaire, darling, you've got your pipes all over the house, don't you? Have you heard Celia complain about her appearance, or perhaps fuss about it recently?"

Sinclaire had been jotting down last week's expenditures for the Salon when the acknowledgment had been given, looking up from his papers to find the two with him waiting for an answer.

"My pipes are hidden, Barry," The Sink replied to him, "...and they only go so far before they're no longer mine."

"You look like you have something to say either way," Amir said somewhat cheekily.

Sinclaire wiped away the build up of moisture from his chronically dripping faucet with a free hand, "I mean, I heard her and Florence discuss with Washford and Drysdale earlier about—"

Suddenly, the Human walked into the establishment, clearly on a call with someone.

"You work with them sometimes? What do you mean 'Don't mention—'" They were still wearing that strange pair of magical Aviators that the three had heard about on the Roomer Mill news. The ocean-during-sunset lenses seemed like they were glowing, making the Sink conclude that its light had to be some sort of indicator of charge.

1. "Wait, you're not, like, mean to them or anything, right? Why else would they not like you?"

2. "Do I look like I give a shit about whether or not the objects in this house hate you?"

Sinclaire looked at the Mirror and the Cosmetics, all of them sharing a look of concern with each other about whoever it was the Human was talking to.

1. Sigh. "Fine, I won't push now. If I do find something good, however, you owe me your so-called 'scandalous' details."

2. Sigh. "Jon. C'mon. You have my endorsement. Shouldn't that mean something?"

A pause. It's a reply unheard and private enough for eyebrow raising.

"Good. I'm glad we settled that then," The Human ended the call with a musing smirk to themselves (or, as far as Sinclaire can tell, the person they were on a call with). They afterwards directed their attention to the three of them in the Salon.

1. "This is The Lavatory Vanity, right? I heard you guys give makeovers?"

2. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything?"

"Y-Yes! Uh," Barry rose up, immediately flushed at the situation he realized everyone was in, "Er..."

"You've come to the right place," Amir was much more graceful in his greeting, smiling as radiantly as he shined.

Barry was visibly grateful for Amir's rescue, "We're not yet open, but considering our present preparations, a-and the circumstances of your visit, we'll be happy to serve you right now!"

"I'm Barry," He gestured to himself and his company, "this is Amir, one of my stylists, and the object supporting this establishment is Sinclaire."

1. "Nice to meet you all!"

2. "Oh, Sinclaire and I are acquainted."

"Really?" Barry and Amir turned to Sinclaire.

"Yes," The Sink gave a polite smile, trying to figure out why the Homeowner was in the Lavatory Vanity, "I believe we met at the Laundry Room last night."

"How wonderful to hear!" Barry remarked with glee.

The Homeowner began looking around the establishment, clearly trying to figure out which part of the Salon and which part of the Bathroom met together.

1. "What are your services?"

2. "Could you serve me some... gossip?"

3. "No, that's fine! I'll come back when you're open."

"Gossip?" Barry raised a brow, "Oh darling, I don't quite have the memory for that sort of thing! At least, not the kind of gossip I'd assume you're i-interested in."

The Homeowner locked onto a nearby chair and sat on it, making themselves comfortable.

1. "I'm like a sponge! I can soak in just about anything and everything."

2. "What kind of things do you guys think I'm interested in, then?"

3. "Hey, it's not like I'm about to start running around telling people your secrets."

"Really, now?" The Cosmetic Supplies were clearly taken aback by the Homeowner's confidence.

"You better make good with whatever you end up soaking in, azizam," Amir began putting away his notes, "All the things you see and hear from us have their own depth to them, you know."

1. "That's why I'm walking around talking to people."

2. "As a journalist, I am very aware of the fact, actually."

Journalist? That... explained many things about the Human Homeowner.

And who it is that brought them to the Laundry Room and Upstairs Bathroom.

"Did that Candelabra ask you to follow me or something?" Sinclaire blurted out, cutting off Amir from replying to the Homeowner.

1. "I'm sure that's all a coincidence! Jon Wick is one of the most honest people I've met so far."

2. "Well, no. Is he giving you trouble?"

Their concern brought more attention than Sinclaire wanted, Barry and Amir's gazes now on him.

"Uh," Paper crinkled in Sinclaire's hands, "I wouldn't say that. I just... that damn guy! He has this particular habit of making a spectacle out of other people's... embarrassments."

"Oh no, did you get your drunken pipes plastered again?" Amir gave the Sink a look of concern lined with mild disappointment.

Did Sinclaire go drinking last night? Absolutely. Nothing wrong with some good drinks, after all.

Like almost everyone in the Housedom was informed yesterday, tax increases were everywhere, Beverly included, which gave Sinclaire a new excuse to drink more. Given how much bigger her cut was compared to everyone else, the Sink wondered if Celia had a bone to pick with that poor, pretty Minibar.

"With the current tax increase?" Sinclaire let a nervous noise out of his system, "Why wouldn't I?"

The Homeowner had a face of confusion, "So you're telling me that Jon Wick can hear the happenings at The Tipsy Tumbler all the way from his place at the Dining Area?"

"W-What a clever mind you have there, buddy!" Sinclaire blinked, made nervous at the apparent breadth of the Human's knowledge, "How did you know that I went there last night?!"

1. [Sass 30/10] "Magic. That's how."

2. [Smarts 75/5] "I don't know how often you drink, but my clever mind knows that the Minibar is very close to your spot in the Kitchen."

3. "Lucky guess."

"Magic," Sinclaire repeated flatly, recognizing the sarcasm whilst rejecting it.

"Yeah," The Homeowner smirked in a way that was rather charming to the Sink, "Do I have to put a curse on you to prove it?"

"I think there's enough curses around this House as it is," Amir took control of the conversation, getting the Homeowner's attention, "In fact, why not use that magic of yours for something much more charming?"

1. "Like helping this Salon?"

2. "Are you asking me to charm you, Amir?"

3. "You're right. I shouldn't be wasting time."

The Homeowner stood up from the chair and pulled out their Phone again, likely to check the time.

"Shit, show's starting soon," They placed their Phone back into the pockets of their professional black jumpsuit, "Do any of you ever go to the Circus downstairs? I mean, besides you, Sinclaire. Since you, like, sorta work there."

"I only watch the weekend shows. Those are the mornings where I am most free," Amir replied.

Barry adjusted his shades, "If I had better time management skills, I'd be able to catch more of the Circus's acts. I'm more likely to go down there to help out doing make up and costuming for particularly special shows."

"What kind of special shows?"

"Those shows involve all the performers of the Circus," Sinclaire replied, "Most of them are done during the Holidays, as well as during some HOA-arranged events."

"Clarence," Barry continued, "or Dirk, as the dear things downstairs like to call him, usually does all the makeovers for regular shows, which only involve select performers. He knows their tastes and complexions even better than I do, so I leave some of my supply for him to scrutinize and bring down himself."

The Homeowner nodded.

1. "How much do you charge The Cycle Circus for your services?"

2. "I heard there's a Theater in this House. Do you do makeup for them?"

3. "Is Clarence one of your stylists?"

"Oh yes, darling," Barry smiled at them warmly, "He's your Clothing, specifically when he's nice and clean."

"He has quite the eye for more luxurious aesthetics," Amir added.

"He's a bigger neat freak than I am, that's for one," Sinclaire decided to contribute, "Granted, he does behave quite differently when he isn't clean."

1. "Is there anything else important that I should know about him?"

2. "Is he nice to you guys down there?"

"Clean or not, he always loves attention. Dirk, in particular, is much less demanding about it, which I find personally more preferable," Sinclaire began to smoothen out the papers he just remembered he was holding, "...don't tell him I said that."

1. [Empathy 90/80] "That's alright. Frankly, something tells me that Clarence is quite aware."

2. "My lips are sealed."

3. "No promises."

Sinclaire couldn't help but nod, knowing better than to make assumptions about the people he works with.

Before the Homeowner could continue, one of the Hanks barged into the Salon suddenly.

"Bathroom Bros! Have you guys seen Dirk?" This was definitely Hank 5, "He left some of his props behind at our crib, and—"

He stopped himself, staring back at the Human, who had been staring at him due to his interruption.

"WOAH!!!" His eyes widened, the supposed props he was carrying now atop the Floor.

1. "Hello! Who are you supposed to be?"

2. "Oh, don't mind me. I suppose it's time for me to leave. Nice to meet you, stranger."

"I'm Hank, and you're a Human talking to me! That's so awesome!!!"

"Didn't you hear the news about that yesterday, darling?" Barry asked Hank 5, "I'm pretty sure it was the talk all over the Housedom."

"I thought Beau was bullshitting me, what with her stories and all the extra crazy... What was that word again? Embellishments? Yeah, she puts embellishments in her stories sometimes. Can't say I'm happier to be wrong though," Hank 5 turned to the Homeowner, "Man, I was kinda hoping you'd meet all of us Hanks together downstairs, but this is still pretty cool."

1. "'Hanks' as in plural? There's more of you?"

2. "Downstairs? What are you supposed to be, again?"

"Yup!" He then posed his usual pose, "I'm Hank no. 5! We're all over the place during most days, except when it's Hank Day at the Circ. You can always catch me in your Bedroom Closet!"

1. [Smarts 75/5] "So I can find you guys together... at the Laundry Room's Circus? You're performers there?"

2. "How many are you guys?"

3. "Where can I find the other Hanks?"

"There's five of us!"

1. [Smarts 75/5] "So I can find you guys together... at the Laundry Room's Circus? You're performers there?"

2. "Where can I find the other Hanks?"

Hank 5 began to explain, "Hank no. 1 hangs out with Mateo and Jacques down at the Living Room. Hank no. 2 is probably in the Office. He works on top of the highest Shelves, pretty close to the Vent there. Hank no. 3 is in the Downstairs Bathroom, either in the Sink Cabinet next to Farya or hanging up a drying Towel. Hank no. 4's in our crib down inside the Laundry Room! Washford and Drysdale can call it a 'Dressing Room' all they want, but that's our bodacious crib!"

What Hank was in the Salon for then returned to him, prompting the Hanger to pick up the bundle of dirty socks he dropped, "Speaking of the Laundry Room, I need to get there right now!"

1. "Why?"

2. "Oh cool! Sinclaire and I are about to head over to the Circus too. How about you come with us, Hank?"

"Totally radical!" Hank 5 laughed, "That means a lot. Thanks so much, Homie!"

"I've never seen full seating on any of Dirk and Harper's shows before," Hoove said, arranging the tickets he collected according to the typical compartmentalization he has for everything he puts in his bag, "It's unbelievable! Do you think our Homeowner has something to do with it?"

"Sure," Sinclaire was counting the money from said tickets, "I practically watched them promise to do so to Washford and Drysdale."

The Circus had been packed with unusual crowds, with many people Sinclaire hadn't expected showing up. It could be the Homeowner's doing indeed, but considering he watched the Spectateviators lose charge in real time, it was wise for the Sink to assume they had some help. Perhaps that same help was what drove the Human to go to the places they've 'reintroduced' themselves at so far.

"Huh," Hoove clearly gained a newfound respect for the Human Homeowner, "That's pretty cool of them to do."

On cue, the Human came into Sinclaire and Hoove's view, Hanks 4 and 5 trailing behind them.

1. "Is Harper typically that harsh with her co-performers?"

2. "Is Dirk usually so unprofessional?"

3. "It's a shame those two don't see beyond themselves."

"Their bickering is hella lame," Hank 4 responded, holding Hank 5, clearly upset, closer to him, "It gets even lamer when they manage to drag Washford and Drysdale into it."

"It really sours the vibes..." There was a bitterness in the way Hank 5 choked out that remark.

Hoove decided to be the first to greet the three first, "I'm guessing Dirk forgot some of his props again, huh?"

"This has happened before?" The Human reacted.

Hank 5 groaned, "Too many times to count..."

Sensing the rising tension caused by the morning's performers, Sinclaire felt the need to wash it all away.

"The show should be starting any moment now," He said to the Homeowner, "Hoove and I marked your seat just for you."

1. "Goodness, I didn't think you guys were serious about that VIP thing! Thank you for doing that."

2. "Oh, wow! Thanks so much! I can't wait to watch the show. You all have been working so hard."

3. "Thanks, but I don't intend to watch the show today. I rather not overstay any longer."

"It's no trouble, really!" Sinclaire replied, "You've brought quite a crowd, for one."

The Human blushed, pausing to think of a reply.

"You heard Sinclaire. The show's about to start!" Hoove broke their train of thought by speaking with an air of urgency, pointing towards the exit that led to the audience grounds, "Go this way."

They then nodded in acknowledgment, leaving with one more remark of thanks.

"Hanks," Sinclaire addressed the two Hangers, "You guys should get some fresh air. Go to Kopi's or back to your space upstairs."

"Sure, man," Hank 5 remarked for them both, walking ahead of Hank 4.

"Uh, t-thanks for the suggestion, Sinclaire!" Hank 4 added, and then the Hanks were both gone.

"Hoo boy! Wasn't that a lot," Hoove remarked once a reasonable silence passed, "Dirk's gotta find a better way of remembering his props. It's clearly taking some sort of toll on the Hanks of all people!"

"I dare you to leave your door open for at least a night, Hoove," Sinclaire snarked, trying to remember where he stopped with his work.

"I'm aware of how often Harper changes their routine," The Vacuum Cleaner replied, pouting, "I personally think that Dirk should keep up better. I mean, doesn't he get all pampered up whenever he's upstairs? You'd think his head would be clearer and sharper when he's clean."

"Buddy, it is emptier!" Sinclaire chuckled to himself, "I'd elaborate, but I'd rather not burst my pipes trying explain how he's like at Barry's Salon. He's lucky their tastes are so similar, and that Amir has the sharpness to keep his threads in check."

"Do you think Harper likes it?" Hoove paused in his work, reclining back against the surface he was sat upon, "You know, how Dirk doesn't seem to listen to her? It wouldn't make sense for someone well-woven as she is to put up with that guy's behavior unless she was, like, super duper into it."

"Ask her yourself," The Sink huffed, fearing the consequences of gossiping too wildly, "I know she likes to spill into your bag sometimes."

"Better at me than the Stackables. Or Tydus."

"That's fair."

The sound of Oohs, Aahs, and cheering echoed through the room the two were at. The show was going well.

"Where are you having lunch later?" Sinclaire then asked the Vacuum Cleaner.

"My usual spot in the Kitchen, obviously," Hoove replied, "You looking to join me later?"

"Yup."