「 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝑒𝑒𝑒𝑒𝑒𝑒!!! 」summer theme park rp

Here’s what he (Ezra) knows:

The entire staff were buzzing with anticipation; Ezra dusted his kneecaps with his oil smudged hands, and he’s fairly certain there is a splotch on his face as well. The regular staff begin milling through the employee entrance gate near the back of the parking lot—Kingswood was beginning to stutter into full Magical Flying Swing (pun intended), the rides whirring as operators began their checks and test runs and the games beginning to be played by eager children and the air began to smell like fried dough and sugar. 

Ezra shoved his hands in his pockets of his cargo shorts, jostling the radio clipped to his belt. It had been silent on the Rides Team channel after Connie’s verbally interpretive comedy of her Dungeon Clean Up Adventure with a chant of “ew” and occasionally static running commentary “holy hell why do we have a guillotine in a children’s amusement dark ride”.

He entered the station as another employee walked through the exit gate with clipboard in hand.

“Oh,” she stopped, chewing her lip thoughtfully. “Hi Ezra.”

“Hey.” Ezra waved lazily, watching as three other operators were marching their way excitedly towards the platform. The Kings Crown Coaster was the pride and joy of Kingswood, only certain operators were trusted with its strict height limit, and complicated console commands for operation.

“Are you going to the Ride-O-Rama tonight?” She asked conversationally. After a second, she slapped her hand over her forehead. “Duh, silly question. You guys run the coaster for two hours.”

He nods. Because Ezra is never great at conversation cues and discussing about himself. Thankfully, the radio flickers to life: “Ezra, you have to train someone on the...train today.”

Oh, right. He has to do that.

Ezra waves to the operator as he begins to leave the platform, “I gotta head out, see you later.” 

Later:

The park exit was crowded as guests began to wander out, people passing every which way to get wherever they were going. Standing still to the side of it all was Elvis Bold, one of the security guards, her pink hair in a messy bun and her tattoo sleeve very visible despite her arms being crossed. She scans the crowd with mock-menace, but her blue eyes lighten up at the sight of Ezra and she calls out: “save me a seat up front!”

The sun is barely touching the horizon and beginning to cool the air. The colors of the ride begin to separate into their original colors—instead of the blurs of rainbow when in motion. The deafening noise of people and heavy machinery dissipates into a chorus of crickets. The lights of the park lanterns stay on, but the ride lights shut down slowly one-by-one.

Except the Kings Crown Coaster station. The once-medieval music playing through the radio turns into Earth, Wind, & Fire as the first song on the shuffled playlist.

He doesn’t make small talk when he arrives, Connie brightly announces in the microphone: “Ezra, you’re late!”

She waits expectantly; he only raises a brow.

“You’re supposed to say: ‘A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to.”

Someone laughs. Ezra didn’t get the memo he had to quote Peter Jackson’s Lord of the Rings. He shrugs: “sorry Connie.”

He’s not.