Risk

You're too cautious.
Live a little!
You'll never make any friends,
If you don't try new things.
Callie is amazing,
But she can't be your everything.

Marie does not gulp as she goes up to the counter to register. The urchin behind the desk smiles at her. "First time, dearie?"

Marie nods. "I've been... I was too busy, to date, until I finished... stuff," she finishes lamely, fidgeting with her necklace. She wishes, now, that she'd taken Callie up on her idea of getting more colorful masks; maybe that would look better. "And online is..." Marie just stops there, before she tells the woman how many one-night stands she was offered, even under an alias. And the crude language.

And the pictures.

"I understand completely," she says, nodding. "Would you prefer to sit, or make rounds of the room?"

Marie doesn't know if she has the courage to walk around and make the first move. "Sit," she says.

The urchin nods, typing. "Name?"

"Hotaru. Can you not put my last name on there?"

"Certainly, Hotaru," she says, typing. "Age?"

"Nineteen." This speed dating session was advertised for inklings aged 18-25. Some'll be too old for her, naturally.

"All right. Now, if you're a bigot against anything this isn't the place for you, understand?" The lady fixes her with a stern look, spines stretched.

Marie nods.

"All right. You are a?"

"A, uh, a girl?"

"You're a woman, dearie," she advises Marie; she feels her cheeks heat. "Though I would've also accepted 'man' or 'nonbinary' or there's an 'other' category I can check and you can write in. Now. For men, are you looking for romance, sex, friendship, or any combination?"

Marie's whole face is burning, now; the lady must be able to see it around her mask. "Um, romance and friendship, I guess," she mumbles. "Maybe, uh, s-sex eventually, but—"

"I'll put a long-term commitment subclause under the romance box, dearie, don't you worry." The lady clucks at her. "Now, for women, romance, sex, friendship, or—"

"S-same as men," she says. Cod, she should've asked Callie for advice on her outfit. She thought she looked fine when she left, her tentacles half-up and braided, in a long purple dress of her current ink color with a black shrug over her shoulders. Her necklace, a gold chain with a single pearl, was her mother's; her dad gave it to her when she got the news job.

But right now she feels exposed and wants to crawl away.

"What about nonbinary?"

"Every category," Marie mutters, unable to look at her any longer. "Friendship and romance and m-maybe more, in six or eight or whatever months, and—and I just..." She lets out a breath.

"All right, dear. Breathe." The woman types away; someone gets in line behind Marie. "According to our random numbering system, you get number 002—"

"For the love of everything, tell me there's not a hundred people," she interrupts. She refuses to look behind herself.

The woman laughs. "Oh, no, dear. Phone number? E-mail address? You'll be given a stack of fifty cards with your number on it—far more than you need. Write down the numbers of anyone you'd like to be in contact with again and give us those at the end of the night. If they've written down your number, we'll give each of you the other's contact information."

That sounds simple enough. Marie gives out her alias's number, a basic phone with text and internet with the cheapest plan available, a lot like the one Gramps took with him on their mission just in case. She hasn't heard from Gramps in ages; she hopes he's okay.

He has Three. Three, at least, would take the phone and call her if anything went wrong.

"You're all set, then." Marie jumps as the urchin thrusts a sheet of paper and several small cards in her hand. "Do you have food and drink yet?"

"I, uh," Marie clears her throat. "I ordered a-a basket of fries and a soda." A BIG basket, too; she knows this place normally has people go to the counter to order, but every few people someone'll come around to ask her if she needs anything, and if she winds up sharing the fries with two or three or five people (as long as they ask first, it's a little test) that's fine.

"All right. Take a table, and put your sign in a little placard. And relax!" The urchin smiles at her. "You'll be fine."

Marie looks around; there's a table near the edge of things, still with a placard on it for the speed dating session but out of the way of the others. She slips her paper into it and sets her cards on the table, then retrieves her fries and drink and sits down. She takes a deep breath. Stirs her drink with the straw. Takes another deep breath.

Maybe she should've gotten something alcoholic. Doubtless most of the others did. People walking will be carrying their drinks. She got here early, there's only five of them at the bar, and Marie eats a single fry and her stomach clenches as she sees a small crowd around the sign-up desk now.

She gulps, adds more salt to her fries, ignores the ketchup and mayonnaise, and forces herself to eat another. Give her stomach something to do. She can't listen, but she knows the rules: it'll last one hour or 'until everyone has met everyone else' whichever comes first. Four minutes to talk, one minute for table swaps. This will be fine.

Everyone who's walking around will see her preferences and come over to talk to the girl sneaking fries under her mask. Right?

Maybe?

Maybe Marie should just leave. Sneak out before she has a chance to—

They ring the little bell to indicate they're getting started, and Marie freezes. The people at the bar (a huge crowd now, Marie's lost count, the whole room is filled) take off, and one of them walks straight to her and sits down across from her. He sticks out his right hand. "Your first time at one of these things?"

Marie shakes his hand. "Is it that obvious?"

"Kinda. Relax," he says, leaning back in his seat. "I promise I'll only bite if you want me to."

Marie wonders if it's possible to just, live perpetually blushing.

"Anyway. I'm Drown."

Marie covers her mouth with one hand. "That's an unfortunate name."

"I know, right? I wonder sometimes if my parents knew what it meant. But since I'm drowning in your beautiful eyes, I can't say it was wrong."

Marie raises an eyebrow (under the mask, she's smiling). "I'm Hotaru. I don't do flattery."

"Can't blame a guy for trying," he says. "Look, let me be honest, before this goes anywhere: I believe in open and honest relationships. I'm polyamorous. Dating two or three people at once, or being married to someone and having someone on the side, is 100% okay. I have another partner, who's a really good gal, and I'll introduce you if we go past three dates. And if you get another partner, you'll introduce me after the same. It means a lot more talking, but it can work."

Marie's never even considered this before. But... "Two dates, if you please," she says. "And no kissing until I know it's above-board. But... what movies have you seen lately?"

"None lately; too busy working. I'm a Grizzco profreshional. But I heard they cast Callie in Legally Squid, and I am dying to see that when it comes out." He grins. "I may have been Team Marie for the splatfest, but they're both awesome."

Marie glances at his name tag: 44. "I'm looking forward to it, too," she says.

Across the room, someone shouts "GET AWAY FROM ME, CREEP!" and Marie looks over to see someone get doused in a drink. She winces.

"That happens at least twice a night," Drown mutters. "Ask for a free refill if you have to do it, they're pretty good about that if the drink's half full or more."

"I never would have thought of that," she says. "I really haven't dated, well, ever. I had a pretty intense full-time job until about a year ago, and I'm still busy. I'm working at the radio station now."

His face lights up. "Oh, Marie runs the classical music station there! Hearing her get excited whenever she talks about those old dead humans is so cute. The music's not bad, either."

A loud beeping goes off. Drown gets to his feet. "Anyway, it was nice meeting you, Hotaru," he says, shaking her hand again and glancing at her number. "Good luck with everyone else!"

Then he's gone, and before Marie can talk herself out of it, she scribbles 44 on one of her cards and shoves it in her pocket.

The next person to come over is a girl, probably 23 or older. "Evening, beautiful." She stands there for a moment, staring down at Marie, then grabs Marie's head and kisses her.

Marie punches the girl, pulls back, and gets her square in the face with her drink.