ioduanlogs | [OPEN] a departure, and an arrival

Entry tags:

[OPEN] a departure, and an arrival

Characters: The Fool, various starters + OPEN
Date: Early April.
Location: The Dreaming Bridge; throughout Aifaran; the turtle's head
Situation: The Fool makes some changes to his living arrangements, and checks in on the progress of a sensitive situation.
Warnings/Rating: None yet, will update as needed.
Notes: Just one prompt for now, but I will add the others over time!

I. New Digs (closed to Devin)

The impending departure of the Bresilykians from Aifaran has injected anxiety into the city that can be felt at all levels; prescribed or not, the upheaval leaves people tense and on edge as they try to make space in their lives to accommodate the change. The Fool hadn't expected to benefit from it, but fate has always been peculiar in the hands she has dealt him in the past. In Aifaran, her mercurial temperament will be no different.

A Bresilykian has left the Fool with the keys (and the lease) to her apartment, in exchange for an elaborate bit of woodworking that she will take back with her to Evidet. Good fortune, it appears, has followed on the heels of his trauma the month before; a space to live located directly above the cafe where he is now sells his work. The Fool owns very few personal belongings, and so moving himself into his new space takes little time, and is accomplished without drawing much undue attention from the Bridge's other inhabitants. With that task now dealt with, it is easier to devote his attention to developing his craft; it is, it seems, going to be his primary means of making a living in Aifaran for the foreseeable future.

It is a drizzly, overcast day that finds the Fool leaning against a bit of outside beneath the cafe awning, slender arms folded over himself and his expression pulled into one of prim disapproval with the weather. He dislikes the cold--and the wet, but mostly the cold, and perhaps he expects sheer willpower to be force enough to coax the clouds aside and usher back in a bit of sunshine.

II. Dreaming Bridge (Gene, Bakura + OPEN)

It is inevitable with any move that one forgets things. Or, possibly, the Fool is just sentimental, and so finds himself back at the Dreaming Bridge in order to revisit the grounds that were his first home upon his arrival in Aifaran.

At present, he is waiting out the latest in a series of sudden downpours in the cafeteria, a small case packed full of his belongings at his feet and a cup of tea held between his palms. He's found an unoccupied window seat and has tucked himself into it, gazing out one of the open windows with a pensive, distant expression on his face.

III. The Turtle's Head (OPEN)

This is the place in Aifaran that brings him the most peace. Not even foul weather can keep him away from it.

Though by this point he has at least invested in one of the many colourful umbrellas and raincoats peddled by numerous vendors throughout the city, meaning that on this particularly drizzly day, he's able to perch in relative comfort atop a stone on the turtle's broad head. Here, he's able to reclaim some semblance of the peace that has evaded him since long before his arrival at Aslevjal; the nearness of the turtle's great mind helps his to grow still, and quiet. His demons lay dormant, at least for a time.

It's hard to know how long he's been sitting here with his eyes closed in meditation, but unless he's interrupted, he'll likely continue on in this fashion for quite some time.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Devin makes a point to know where the people he associates with can be found, whether that be their place of work or their home. Dreamfolk have started moving out of the Bridge, and along with the exodus of the Bresilykians, there's a lot of change afoot in the city. He's considering moving out himself, but he can probably stand having a roommate for another month or two until he finds somewhere to live.

The drizzle reminds him so much of England he almost finds himself missing his home country. As such, he's wearing only a weather-resistant coat when he wanders out on one of his days off, seeing no need for something like an umbrella or a hat. Minute water droplets hang off his hair.

It's Klaus' cafe he's locating when he spots the Fool. This is the first time they've seen each other one on one since the incident with his memory, and Devin pushes the image out of his mind. This is not how he wants to think of the Fool when he sees him, nor how the Fool would like to be seen, he's sure.

"I'm going to take a wild guess and say you don't like rain," Devin remarks wryly, stopping an appropriate distance away.

"I'm going to take a wild guess and say you don't like rain."

This might be the first time that Devin has taken the Fool by surprise, rather than the reverse. Startled, he looks up at the sound of his voice, and the irritation in his angular expression gives way to a tired smile. He gestures artlessly up at the sky with one hand as though to say 'what's to be done with this?'

"I can enjoy plenty about the rain," he rejoins lightly, only to for his look to sour as he considers his still-wet hair, "...when I'm not damp from being caught out in it unexpectedly." He chafes a hand against one of his arms, frowning. "And it's cooler than I would prefer."

(Devin knows better than most why the Fool has such an aversion to the cold now.)

Rather than let the mood grow too grim, however, he lets the corners of his lips tug upwards into a curious smile and pushes himself up and away from the wall. "What brings you out this way?" he asks and takes a step towards the edge of the awning. "Come for a cup of coffee?"

"No, just seeing what Klaus has gotten himself up to," Devin explains, shrugging lightly. "He ran a magical hotel back in Keeliai, so this should be right up his alley."

Not the magic, but the business. The man knew what he was doing. The Fool notably lacks either coffee or tea, nor is he inside getting warm. This does not seem like an ideal combination for a man who dislikes the cold. He sidesteps under the awning, already starting to unbutton his coat.

"What about you? You look like you're going somewhere, or were trying to," he comments, releasing the fastenings smoothly and slipping the coat off his shoulders. Devin holds it out to the Fool. "Here. If you insist on waiting outside for it to stop raining, at least don't get pneumonia while you do it," he adds lightly.

"A magical hotel?" the Fool repeats, clear amusement brightening his eyes and smile. He tips his head to the side teasingly. "He is a gentleman of hidden talents, I see. Did the beds make themselves?" It's not a question he expects an answer to, but the Fool has never been able to resist the impulse to pepper his conversation with wit.

His smile grows quizzical when Devin ducks beneath the awning beside him and begins to remove his coat, at least until it becomes clear what he's doing. He startles again, eyes darting from the coat as it is offered out to him, then to Devin again, before he reaches out to gingerly take hold of it; he's freezing, he's not going to turn it down. "Won't you be cold without this?" he asks, slipping his arms into the sleeves. The garment is massive on him, but with the right hat and a few other accessories, he could probably make a fashionable statement out of it.

As for his first question, the Fool recalls it and absently gestures upstairs. "I've rented a room above the cafe," he explains. "I just finished moving my belongings in, not that it took very long."

Devin's gaze flicks upwards. "Ah. It seems a decent handful of people are moving out of the Bridge this month." Most of them had found jobs and there were plenty understanding landlords familiar with the capriciousness of the Dreaming. "I suppose dorm living isn't nearly as desirable as privacy," he acknowledges wryly.

If the Fool, Klaus, and Leo are all going to be approximately co-located, Devin imagines he may be visiting not infrequently whether he likes it or not. All three of them are people he gets along with, and two of the three will insist that he needs to socialize.

"I'll be fine," he assures the Fool. He has a long sleeved shirt on, and that will suffice. "England - the country I'm from - is like this a lot. You get used to it after a hundred twenty-four years." Devin shrugs, amused. "Besides, it's physically impossible for me to get sick."

"...Besides, it's physically impossible for me to get sick."

"That must be inconvenient, from time to time." There is less residual body heat within the confines of Devin's coat than the Fool had been hoping for, but he nevertheless buttons up the fastenings on the front of it to protect his slender frame from the cold and damp. He looks up from affixing the last button into place to give his friend a sly look. "What do you say when you wish to beg off of a social gathering?"

The seemingly ceaseless drizzling is beginning to let up some, though it is still persistent enough that the Fool does not appear overly interested in venturing out. "I'm not accustomed to co-habitating in such close quarters," he admits, allowing some of his discomfort with the arrangement to be visible on his expression. "But yes, I've found work, of a kind, and the previous tenant is Bresilykian and so--" another artless hand gesture and a thin smile, "here I am. Will you be staying at the Dreaming Bridge?"

"Oh, something nasty, usually," Devin answers with a sly smile. "It's not hard to remind people that I am unpleasant company."

Or that he can be. Most of the social gatherings he attended in his world he was not invited to, and almost without fail he was the only one alive who left them. He notes the Fool's discomfort but doesn't comment on it; Devin could deal with roommates but didn't enjoy the arrangement himself. At least it was better furnished than trenches and tents.

"Yes, though not for much longer, I imagine. I'm not a particular fan of living with other people, either," he says dryly. "Taking advantage of the mass exodus that's occurring is probably wise, assuming I can find a place that's satisfactory." His requirements of an apartment will be quite different than most. "I hear it's supposed to rain for a while, though, so you may want to invest in attire suited to the weather eventually," Devin adds, ribbing.

"It's not hard to remind people that I am unpleasant company."

The Fool gives Devin an askance, knowing sort of smirk at those words, but doesn't argue. Whether or not other people find him to be unpleasant company, the Fool does not, and surely Devin has sorted that out by now.

It is easier instead to respond to his last observation, a sparkle of humour in his eyes. "What is that saying from your world--no time like the present? You're a man of discerning taste," he points out and lifts his chin with a pleased smile, then gestures down the road towards the nearby high street. "Come help me pick out something suitable."

(You only have yourself to blame for this, Devin.)

It has been made clear to Devin that he's not going to lose the Fool's interest that easily.

Devin opens his mouth as if to protest and then quickly shuts it, faint bafflement on his face. Shopping is not an endeavor he spends time on if he can avoid it, and his tastes - much like his requirements for an apartment - are particular. Function often exceeded his concern for form.

"I don't know how much help I'll actually be," Devin reasons, fully aware that this disclaimer will not deter the Fool. "My preferences are almost certain to be counter to yours."

"And all the better for it," the Fool counters without losing his smile--on the contrary, the corners of his lips have a delightful little twist now, as though he derives particular enjoyment from confounding Devin. (He probably does.) "As I am infinitely impractical in all things, I suspect your preferences will be quite useful."

He takes a light step away from the wall and holds up one slim finger. "Wait for me a moment, I just need to fetch my bag." Then he turns on one heel and slips into the cafe without another word.

Devin sighs quietly; he really needs to get back to a style of argument that puts people off rather than amuses them. The Fool is just... strangely difficult for him to shove away in his usual manner. Perhaps it had something to do with how they met, and almost certainly what had happened since then. It wouldn't feel right.

He's come to this conclusion before, in other decades and in another world. Whenever he's stationary for any length of time, it gets harder and harder to push people away. It feels almost inevitable.

"I somehow doubt you will need my expertise in the best kinds of tailoring for concealing weapons," Devin remarks when the Fool returns, arching an eyebrow. "But I can tell what tailoring will fall apart on you and what will last, so I suppose that's something. These are not the skills I thought would come in handy here."

The Fool takes a bit longer than 'just a moment,' because of course he does, though when he returns, he looks refreshed and has one of the brightly coloured umbrellas in tow to keep the rain off of his newly re-braided amber hair. He turns the umbrella out towards the street and opens it, revealing an explosion of reds, oranges and yellows.

"...These are not the skills I thought would come in handy here."

"Well I am glad for the opportunity to take advantage of them, regardless," the Fool informs him with a teasing smile.

He steps out into the drizzle, umbrella held above himself, then peers expectantly at Devin. "Shall we?" he invited with raised eyebrows, and extends the umbrella just enough to offer him shelter as well.

Devin is, as ever, a patient man. The time it takes the Fool to return could be used for an escape, but he can handle a simple shopping trip. The umbrella the Fool returns with will make it easy to find him in a crowd, in the future.

He sighs lightly, resigned to his latest fate and joins the Fool. His frame is narrow enough that it's not a tight squeeze, although if it begins to rain harder then odds are both of them will get wet rather than just one of them. Hopefully, the weather will hold.

"I get the feeling you would drag me along regardless of having any useful input," Devin ventures. The Fool had essentially done just that the first time they met. He has a way of making it difficult to say no. "Everyone seems to insist I need socializing."

"I get the feeling you would drag me along regardless of having any useful input. Everyone seems to insist I need socializing."

The Fool lifts the umbrella just a fraction higher to accommodate them both beneath it and then steps out into the road, leading the way through the rain in the general direction of the more fashionable shops. He gives Devin a wry smile in response to his observation. "I'm not sure that helping me find new ways to spend all of my money truly qualifies as socializing," he chides, but he's smiling a bit cheekily as he does so, and points down the correct lane ahead of them. "And by 'everyone,' shall I venture to guess you're referring to Leo?"

Beneath the shelter of the umbrella, Devin carefully makes sure not to bump into the Fool, following his direction. It's an inborn grace that allows him to move through crowds and avoid contact that he falls back on without fully realizing it.

"He's the most vocal about it," Devin confirms, quirking a smile. "But he's not the only one. There's a young woman about his age that hassles me about spending more time with others almost every time we speak. I seem to attract stubborn people," he concludes wryly, but there's an edge of discomfort in his tone.

No one seems to listen when he insists that friends would only be target practice for his enemies, if they were to follow him here.

"...I seem to attract stubborn people."

"I prefer 'persistent,'" the Fool rejoins wryly, still smiling, but does not push the subject further. Devin's discomfort is not a mystery to him--but for that reason, he knows to step lightly here.

There's a shop a bit further up the road with its doors propped open to invite visitors, which is fortunate considering the sun has begun to cloud over again, the rain picking up. "There," the Fool says and quickens his pace, hunching his shoulders with a grimace that still doesn't manage to quash his laughter as the latest rainstorm comes down upon them in a deluge. Even with the aid of the umbrella, they're still quite damp by the time they reach the open shop front and hurry inside, and the Fool needs a moment to ring a bit of excess moisture out of his sleeves. Not too long, though; like a magpie, he's already examining the wares on sale with bright, avid eyes.

"Oh, this would be perfect," he exclaims, immediately stepping towards an impractical looking cloak of brilliant turquoise--which does not look remotely water-proof. Devin, you have your work cut out for you.

They've established that Devin is less concerned with the rain and the cold, but his delay would likely turn into the Fool's delay, and either of them getting soaked is undesirable. He tries to shake off most of the moisture before entering. The shopkeeper looks both pleased to see customers and concerned by how wet they are, but the former overrides the latter with the Fool's immediate interest.

He gives a resigned but amused sigh at what has caught the Fool's eye. Even from a little distance, that fabric does not appear to be ideal for inclement weather. "It would be perfect on a sunny day," he allows. "If you stepped outside right now you'd be miserable within five minutes. Colorful, but miserable."

"Miserable but for the joy I shall derive from wearing something so extraordinarily impractical." The Fool turns a sly look bright with amusement Devin's way, threads a stray lock of damp hair behind his ear, and then turns to engage with in a hasty bit of conversation with the shopkeeper. Indeed he does not part with the cloak, but instead allows it to drape in an elegant fall of silken fabric across his arm; to his credit, though, he does ask after clothes better suited to the weather, and is directer further into the store.

He looks back at Devin and motions him after, his lips quirked into a smirk. "Since you insist on spoiling my fun," he teases. "There are rain coats and ponchos this way, I am told."

And there are, many of them in just as wide an assortment of colours and patterns as the garment the Fool still holds to like it is something precious and irreplaceable.

As Devin has no real experience with joy, much less joy for the utterly impractical, the Fool's sly look is met with bemusement. The day may never come when the Fool ceases to perplex him, and that is a true rarity for Devin as he prides himself on reading people. They both wear their share of masks.

"You asked me along to spoil your fun, as I recall." By the quirk of his mouth and tone, Devin is clearly teasing. He trails after the Fool, eyes sliding over garments that vary from garish to tasteful as they head towards the more practical attire. Without fail, his gaze falls on the darker colors: blacks and grays and browns. Many of those garments also meet his preferences of structure and cut, but Devin is aware that these are not the best options for his shopping companion. Something looser but stylish and still protective from the weather, and presumably colorful, would be better.

What draws his attention is a plum-colored coat, which on closer inspection seems to be more of a cape and made of a tweed-like material. Devin doesn't offer it up yet, instead attending to his usual checklist: examining seams and buttonholes, counting pockets, and so on. "I haven't seen a design like this in years," he remarks, flipping the cape open to check the lining.

That Devin has taken an interest in any of the wares on display is enough to snatch the Fool's attention away from a particularly gaudy piece of fabric--his tastes are eccentric, not gauche--and he allows it to fall back into place as he steps over to Devin's side, inquisitive.

"What a lovely colour," he remarks thoughtfully and reaches out to run his fingers across the tweed fabric, appreciating the texture. Then, with another wry look Devin's way, he remarks, "Though I am not sure purple is your colour."

The clear look of chagrin on Devin's face is, he realizes belated, exactly what that comment is designed to elicit. Even knowing that, it takes him longer than he'd like to rearrange his features into something less annoyed. He's being teased and that's... not new, exactly, but it's not common either. Especially not about clothing.

He reflects that this is one of the lighter conversations that he and the Fool have ever had. "You might be surprised," the vampire replies, arching an eyebrow. "But we are not here to ruminate on the color palettes that I work best for my skin tone. Is this why shopping takes people hours? Tangential conversations?"

"...Is this why shopping takes people hours? Tangential conversations?"

"That," the Fool rejoins with a growing, whimsical smile, "and trying on far more clothing than you ever intend to purchase." As if to make his point, he plucks the purple-coloured coat from its hanger and drapes it across his arm with the turquoise cloak he'd collected earlier, evidently intent on admiring himself in both of them before they leave the shop.

Laughing, he says, "But I shall take pity on you today, and limit myself just to these two. Just a moment." And he turns towards one of the tall mirrors affixed to one of the walls, slipping off Devin's coat and hanging it on a nearby hook.

It's hard to say what exactly draws the shop's Erol'an vendor back towards them; either way, as she comes into view of them both and smiles (it's probably a smile anyway), she asks Devin earnestly, "If we don't have a coat of that cut and colour in your size, sir, perhaps we can find one in a complementing shade?" She beams between them. "You do make such a striking pair."

The Fool freezes, one slender arm halfway into the sleeve of the coat that Devin had selected. His reflection, visible in the mirror, is perhaps more shocked than he's ever allowed himself to appear in public before, and his eyes dart to Devin just for a moment before flicking away. For once, he's momentarily speechless.

Something about the comment triggers an instinctive response in Devin; this is hardly the first time he's found himself in an unexpected situation, though usually his life is at stake. He's suddenly more aware of everyone and everything in the shop, reminding himself of where the exits are and what he knows of Erol'an customs and how many knives does he have.

Odd, that someone mistaking them for a couple merits the same reaction as someone attempting to kill him.

Devin buries the shock under a sly smile and tears his gaze off the Fool's reflection in the mirror. There's a sharp edge to his smirk that gives the Erol'an pause. "We do, don't we? But there's no need." He gestures to his coat on the hook. Grey and black go with everything. "I already have a coat that complements his wardrobe. Once he has his own, I'll just get to wear it myself again."

"We do, don't we? ..."

Devin's brief, albeit smoothly delivered exchange with the proprietress gives the Fool the time he needs to reclaim his poise and slip into the little masquerade that Devin has supplied for him. Theatre of this kind has always been second nature to him (and, more than once, a character trait that had driven Fitz to distraction); it is no difficulty for the Fool to turn himself about before the mirror, considering how well the plum-coloured coat suits his frame and flatters his complexion. (It does, on both accounts.)

"Black and grey, of course!" He scoffs, catches Devin's eye in the mirror just long enough to crack a conspiratorial smile, then turns and steps lightly back to his side. To the Erol'an, he confides knowingly, "Perhaps I am deluding myself, but I still hope for the day I manage to persuade him to be more adventurous in his wardrobe choices. I have had little luck so far, but thank you," he adds, beaming. "I will never say no to a bit of flattery."

This seems to be enough to satisfy the Erol'an that she's not been too much of a bother and has done her job well, for she smiles, pleased, at both of them, before hurrying off into the rest of the shop to see to her other customers. The Fool watches after her until she rounds a corner and is out of sight, before some quiet, nervous laughter escapes him.

"Well that was a fun bit of play acting," he informs his friend, willing himself to look up at his face as though certainly that's all it is. (It is. It must be, no matter what his quickening pulse might suggest.) The Fool moves a fraction too quickly back to the mirror, where he busies himself shedding the coat. He seems almost too self-conscious suddenly to try on the turquoise one.

Devin hides his discomfort with a practiced ease that has often escaped him since his arrival. He drew the sketch and the Fool colors it in effortlessly; however incorrect the Erol'an is, the two of them play off each other well. He recognizes now, more than ever, the similarities between them. Only Valdis has been a match for him on this kind of stage before, and they know each other much better.

Perhaps that's why he doesn't entirely let the facade drop when the Fool meets his eyes again. It only shifts from pretending to be someone he is not, to masking who he is. He can't afford the Fool's clear nervousness, or to ask himself why it's even there in the first place.

"Better that than the alternative," Devin observes, resolutely casual. He busies himself in disinterested examination of another piece of clothing, as any bored partner might while they're waiting for the fashion show to end. "Don't rush," he suggests. "There's no need; she'd decided on her misconception before coming over here. More pretense won't even be necessary."

[OPEN] a departure, and an arrival

I

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)