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Who: Becky and Shiro (that interaction's closed), anyone else who'd happen to be around
What: Grocery shopping (open), Vermedi sighting (closed)
Where: The grocery!
When: Thursday afternoon

Another week, another paycheck, another grocery run. It's times like these that Becky's glad she only has to worry about feeding herself; it can be hard enough figuring out what she wants to eat.

Screw it, she's getting salad stuff, and she'll actually eat it this time, dammit.

All told, though, it's a fairly unremarkable shopping trip... until she gets outside and stops dead in her tracks, staring across the parking lot.

WHAT THE HELL IS THAT THING.

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Shiro's grocery shopping had become twice a week. He was going through food like... something that goes through something fast. Maybe a garbage disposal? Sure. That works. Metaphors aside, Shiro had stood by the meat counter for a good five minutes just staring at the cuts of steak and chicken and bacon and lamb. Had it always looked so wonderful?

Of course it had. He was a chef. A chef had to know a good cut of meat when he saw one! But these were making his stomach growl. As is.

So, when he exits the grocery store, it's with the essentials (milk, eggs, chips, snacks, whatever) and about seven pounds of various raw meat. Oh, and an entire case of beef jerky, which was his go-to snack these days. He wonders if he's going to be able to fit everything in the little saddlebag on his bike or if he'll have to call for a cab when the lady in front of him stops dead in her tracks and he almost runs into her.

"Hey! Why'd you just stop?" He looks past her to see what she's looking at and--

Holy fuck.

"H-HAIR MONSTER!!"

"Sorry," Becky says, entirely on autopilot - you can thank her parents for that. After a couple seconds, she even manages to move a few more steps out of the door's main traffic area.

She doesn't take her eyes off the giant moving hairball, though.

"...Well, if you see it too, I guess we're not going insane?"

Shiro moves his own cart to the side so that other people can pass. Other people who apparently can't see Cousin It standing there across the parking lot.

"Or we're going insane in the same way..." he scrubs his face, rubbing his eyes, then staring again. Another person just walks right on by the damn thing, and it turns its "head" up to watch them as they go. "Look! That guy didn't even act like he saw it!"

"...Maybe he didn't?"

Becky has no damn idea how this works. Just that... there's a four-foot hairball over there. You'd think it would be a little more noticeable, though.

Either way, she can't keep staring; even with the insulated bags, her cold stuff's not going to hold up to that much sun. "I wish I could tell if it was going to follow us," she says, half to herself.

"How can you not see a four foot hair-child? Ugh..."

Then it seems that Cousin It notices them staring, then bolts, running behind the rows of cars and out of sight. Shiro blinks, then looks at the stranger again.

"... You wouldn't happen to be a member of the Secret Number Club, would you?"

If she's not, he's going to have to think of a very interesting lie, fast.

Becky smiles a little (even though she's still a little weirded out). "Is that what we're calling it?"

That would be a yes, Shiro.

Oh thank goodness. That at least explained why she saw it too, and no one else did.

"Well, that's what I'm calling it. Don't know if it'll catch on..."

"As names for it go, that's a pretty good one. Better than calling it the Vertigo Club or something." Besides, when you know your Hitchcock, that brings some nasty implications with it.

"Shiro, by the way. Nice to meet someone else from weirdo land out here in the real world. At least I know I'm talking to real people."

He frowns and looks down at his cart, then back to where the hair thing went. He's curious about what it is, but he also doesn't want to chase an invisible giant toupee around the parking lot. And what if it had fangs or something underneath all that hair? He shakes off the thought.

Then, he's struck by an odd feeling. One that he's felt before, at the gallery. He grabs at his chest and huffs.

"Oh no..."

"Becky. Nice to-- are you all right?" Sorry, manners, you get to go out the window right now.

Looks like the Vertigo Club just struck again.

"I'm... urgh. I feel weird... empty."

He holds his head, trying to shake it off.

"The last time this happened, I starting puking out my guts. Literally."

"The vertigo," Becky says, nodding. "I know the feeling. Though I can't say anything that... extreme's happened to me."

She hadn't realised this could get that messy.

"Do you feel like you're going to be sick again, or is it just..."

He shakes his head and rubs his temples, trying to get the feeling to go away. And it does. As quickly as it came, the hollow feeling goes away, leaving him feeling just a bit lightheaded, but not nauseated.

"No, I tink I'm alright... thanks," he huffs and leans on his grocery cart, "Yeah, it was pretty not fun. Ever since then I've been super hungry... craving raw meat and stuff. It's been weird."

Odd, though. Every time he's had that feeling so far, something has happened to him. Not this time?

"Goodness." It probably deserves stronger language, but hey, you start working around third-graders, you stop swearing pretty quickly. Takes more than that to draw one out of Becky.

"I didn't realise these things got that bad. But I'm glad this one doesn't seem to be as hard on you."

Yeah, it was probably a good idea to remove cursewords from your vocabulary when you're an elementary teacher.

"Yeah. Well, I don't know. I haven't heard of anyone else having anything as bad as me. Yet. But I don't really want to make a contest out of it..." he shakes his head, "Oh well. I should probably get going, if I'm not going to like... start coughing up my lungs or something."

"I hope not. That sounds painful." And just ridiculous enough that Becky has to bite back a laugh - poor kid's already had one unpleasant experience along those lines, after all.

"We probably both should. Good luck."

He nods, "I guess I'll see you around, Becky. Secret number club forever and all that." He chuckles, then makes his way back over to his bike. Time to try and put the weird vertigo out of his mind and see if he can smoosh all this stuff into the saddlebag...

Becky manages to crack a smile. "Indeed." And then she heads for her car, packs everything in the trunk and hopes like hell she doesn't have a vertigo attack while she's on the road.

(She doesn't.

Not until she's halfway through cooking dinner.)

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