so i hear we both have menace husbands

Milo liked to make a point of meeting the other campaigners in the Student Council race. Some of them he could easily end up working with, so it was better to familiarize early. The last elections- which he had participated in late, out of mild outrage and rebellion, and hadn't won (not that he'd joined to win, he'd simply gotten oddly invested in the process, so this time was different)- he'd done the same, but with the motivation to critically assess them and if they had any right to a position of authority. He supposed he wasn't completely without that motivation now, it was simply multifaceted.

Loralei Bateman wasn't someone he personally had a lot of information on, and she seemed to have joined up as a candidate rather spontaneously. He was curious about her motivations. On the other hand, he had heard a bit about her husband. Nothing good. From a first glance, Milo almost thought the two of them might be similar in some aspects, and that amused him.

He'd reached out and contacted her, inviting her to a cute little cafe on campus, out of the way and without a lot of regular customers, but for those few that knew about it, very rewarding. He liked it that way. It sold lovely, unique little desserts and treats and had a comfortable, snug interior.

It was late afternoon, and Milo waited patiently at a corner table by the front windows, sipping tea with too much sugar from cat-themed teacup. He had a few rats fast asleep in his scarf, and a gift bag of homemade baked goods to offer Loralei to take home. He hoped it wouldn't be an overload of such things, and wasn't sure of her tastes, but it was undeniably peaceful here, at least.

Milo liked the look of this woman, with her sleek hair and endearing smirking. She didn't seem intimidated by him. He didn't stand, both as to not wake the rats or disturb the relaxed atmosphere of the shop with his ridiculous height. He took her hand with his own rougher, larger one and shook it firmly before letting it go again, quick and efficient. "That'd be correct. Pleasure, Lori."

He reclined a bit. "I hope this meeting place works for you? I wanted to go for privacy and somewhere I thought was comfortable, though I occasionally forget that not everyone likes sweets and this kind of aesthetic. If you do, however, I brought a peace offering to signify my good will." He gestured to the gift bag, small, handmade, and tied with a charming little ribbon.

"Truthfully, I don't want to be aggressive, or think of you as my rival. We could very easily end up on the council together in the end, no matter who wins. Being on good terms would be nice, and you seem decent. Am I wrong in that, do you disagree with any of those points?"

He stirred more sugar into his peppermint tea. "Sorry if I'm coming off as pushy, just don't see the point of dancing around these things, and I'm generally a straightforward guy. Thought we'd get it out of the way, have the rest of this be less tense than it could've been." He shrugged lightly, then, in a softer, more reassuring tone, "I have no intentions of making you feel on edge."

Milo nodded. "There's a few different kinds of cookies from the batches I worked at this morning in there, a blueberry muffin, and some butterscotch candy. If you don't like any of that, go ahead and share it with someone else." He was very firmly against wasting food.

He returned her small smile, then, his own turned a bit more mischievous for a flash of a moment. "I don't mind a little competitive, as long as it isn't overly hostile. I can respect that. Friendly challenge can be healthy. Fun, even." He barked a short laugh. "I'm going out of my way to be more mindful with people these days, though. I can be pretty strong willed, and stubborn. That can be a lot for some, and I'd rather water things down than run anyone over, at least in personal matters." Behaving that way when it involved his beliefs and values was a different story entirely.

He was happy their socializing seemed to be going well. Aside from his own fiance, he hadn't had any antagonistic interactions with the other candidates, and he'd met almost all of them now. Things were going… wonderfully, really. He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but it wasn't this. God, far from it. His life up until Starlight hadn't been the brightest, and nearly every single part of his lifestyle now was foreign, something he thought he could blink and lose.

The dark circles around Lori's eyes rather matched his own, and the faint edges of her magic felt tired. He wondered what stresses she was living with, how similar or different to his own they might be.

He took note of what she said, then, went on to reply to her question. That was the big one, wasn't it? "If you make sure to tell me your own motivations, I'll share mine." Still, since she asked first, he started, something of an amused look on his face. "I entered the second-term elections, last year, because I really didn't like the superficial way the current candidates were doing things, or that most of them were the same automatically influential, blandly popular faces we were always seeing. I thought I'd shake 'em up, get in to check them out up close. So I entered late, and did just that. Then… I also used it to talk to people, listen to them, where I wouldn't have gotten the chance to before. I used to be a complete loner. It was… I didn't plan to, I didn't even want to win, but I got invested."

He took in a breath. "This time around is different. I'm taking it as seriously as I should've from the start, had I known I'd care so much." He exhaled again, and gave an awkward chuckle, mellowing out from his brief display of the fire under his surface demeanor.

Milo sipped more at his tea, observing and listening to Lori intently. He opened up and added things where he could, to show respect and encouragement towards her doing so. "My younger years didn't really… give me a good impression of people. It's clearing up now, though I'm still decently bitter. I'm trying to use that to fuel some sort of need to make things brighter rather than worse. Best way to go when you're stuck with a shitty outlook, as far as I can tell." He shrugged. He hoped so, at the very least.

He nodded. "Sounds like that could get frustrating fast. I'm Fae, myself." He adjusted to rest his chin in a palm, posture loosening. "I definitely couldn't claim to like the typical politics. That's why I'm not doing it in a traditional way. I don't have any posters or buttons, just kinda using this as an excuse to put on nice little events for others to enjoy, avoiding drama for the most part."

He made a face, grimacing a bit. "That makes me sound pretentious in another light, though. Ah, whatever. I don't like politics. I try to just do my own thing. But I can't really keep out of this completely, because garbage like politics can affect my life and how the world treats me, even on a small scale like school elections- whether I decide to acknowledge it or not. So in the end, I'd rather be involved, at least attempt to change something from the inside if it's too big to break."

Recognition shone in his eyes at the mention of Marina. "…No, I wasn't here yet for last year's earlier elections, only the later ones, though I did meet Marina Bellamy then." Which was quite the experience. Oh, she'd hated him, finding his campaign techniques and success within them infuriating, upsetting. And god, had she cried, a little girl with too much on her shoulders, far too familiar with cruelty- both as a victim and a perpetrator. Milo hoped she'd be okay some day. He never, never should've thought about hurting her. He quieted after that, let Lori tell her story. He'd heard it before, though not from someone so close to the source.

"I've heard about that," Milo confessed, though neutral in tone. "I can't speak for anyone else in terms of how they may think of you, but I think it's a worthy motivation for being here now." He shook his head insistently. "No, no, it's fine. I've been told I'm a good listener, and I feel comfortable enough with the role. Especially with my current goals."

He hummed, and tapped his fingers on his cup of tea. "…Ha. I can relate. I certainly don't condone his actions, but as a person, and between just us, I love Vincenzo. There's an awkward balance between calling him out on the garbage he pulls, then also adoring and supporting him. Not forcing others into the concept of forgiving or even vaguely liking him, but also being a bit hurt when the usually reasonable, expected hatred goes too far into delicate areas."

He inhaled sharply. "It's complicated. And hard to deal with. But when you love someone, you love someone, especially when nobody else can manage it." Had their conversation gone too personal? He could never quite tell, once he got in too deep with these topics. Milo breathed out again, and eyed the pretty engagement ring on his hand, soft.