June catch-all

[afoolsgold]

Characters: The Fool, various starters + OPEN
Date: Throughout June
Location: Aaaaaall over the place.
Situation: A catch-all for the month.
Warnings/Rating: Some minor injuries. Sort of.



I. En route to the turtle’s head (closed to Padparadscha & Rutile)

The Fool has taken this route to the turtle’s head so many times that he is quite comfortable carrying on a bit of cheery small-talk with Padparadscha as they proceed together. He trusts his feet to know the way.

It also seems that his penchant for finding himself embroiled in trouble is intent on following him out into the city today, too. As they pass by the mouth of a narrow garden path cutting between two neighbourhoods, there comes the sound of raised voices, and it is distracting enough to make the Fool stop in his tracks, frowning.

“I know that voice. The person who demanded protection money from me--that’s him.”



II. Speaking with Valdis (closed to Valdis)

This is not a conversation that the Fool is looking forward to, precisely, but it is nevertheless an important one, and he cannot put it off. The trouble is figuring out where Valdis actually is, and while it would probably not be that difficult to ask Devin to facilitate the meeting, the Fool would rather not. There are only so many favours of this nature that he can possibly ask of his friend.

With that option off the table, he opts for the next best thing: leave the meeting itself up to chance and fate.



III. Delivering a carving (closed to Zephyr)

It only occurs to the Fool after he has arrived and let himself into the familiar halls of the Dreaming Bridge that, perhaps, Zephyr doesn’t even live here anymore. After all, so many people were now making homes for themselves elsewhere in Aifaran--himself included. He should have phoned ahead.

(He could phone now--but does not. Like as all, he’s forgotten his yimo at home. Again.)

With a little wrapped parcel in one hand, the Fool meanders the halls of the Bridge, looking very much like he’s probably made a mistake somewhere along the way, but doesn’t seem too bothered by it.



IV. An unsettling appearance (closed to Devin & Klaus)

There is such a thing as too much heat and sunshine, even for the Fool who might have made a convincing tropical plant in another life given his propensity for wearing enough bright colours and basking in the sunshine. This particular morning is too bright and oppressively warm even for him, however, and so he has retreated within the shelter of the cafe for a cool drink, rather than take up his place at his table under the awning to work on his carving.

With an iced beverage of some kind in hand, he perches himself on one of the stools at the barista’s counter and settles in to one of his favourite past-times here in Aifaran: gently needling Devin, who has probably asked himself a number of times at this point why he’s even friends with this skinny weirdo who claims he can see the future. Whatever they’re talking about isn’t that important; the two angry-looking puncture wounds that appear on the side of his neck are probably more attention-grabbing anyway. Especially because the Fool himself does not appear to have noticed them.



V. Wildcard!

 

Comments

iv

[purered]

There was a crash from behind Devin and The Fool. It wasn't from a mug dropping on the floor, but rather Klaus had crushed it to bits in his bare hands. There was coffee everywhere down the front of his apron and dripping from his hands as the last little fragments of gimcrackery fell to the floor.

He'd seen the punctures.

"...Your neck," he managed, his stare frighteningly intent, "...What happened?"

He didn't look at Devin. He was forcing himself not to jump to conclusions though several were already forming.

Don't be silly, he thought. It could be some kind of insect bite. Or a bad run-in with a stapler remover. Or there's another vampire in town...

That last one was alarming.

[annihilist]

It is likely only because Devin is not holding his cup at the moment that he does not break it with his bare hands. He does not jump at the sound, but the sight of puncture wounds appearing on the Fool's neck makes him turn ashen. His expression slides into shock--

But he's already up on his feet, snatching a clean napkin off the table. Devin is at the Fool's side in an instant, pressing the napkin against the punctures. The fact that he does not smell blood fails to assuage his concerns.

Similarly, he does not look at Klaus. He'd rather not see the assumption in his eyes. "Your guess is as good as mine," Devin replies tersely. "Last I checked, idle conversation does not cause bite marks."

[afoolsgold]

Another vampire in town with a cloak of invisibility, perhaps. The puncture marks were certainly not there moments ago.

The cup shatters, and the Fool jumps, whipping around. "What--" he begins to ask, but already Devin has the napkin pressed against his neck. There's no pain from the application of pressure, no feeling of irritation to suggest that his skin is in fact injured at all. He looks up first to Devin, baffled, and then twists his neck (and the napkin with it) so that he can look at Klaus again.

"But I felt nothing," he insists, then adds more ardently, "I still feel nothing. Devin, move the napkin." He's fumbling in his bag in search of a small mirror and, once he finds it, lifts it up to try and see for himself the marks on his neck.

II

[redlightgreenlight]

A meeting with the Fool was in no way left to chance. Though her vision over the last several weeks had been largely absent, Valdis had successfully avoided the Fool, even when she had spent time at the cafe where he sold his art. She had zero desire to talk with him, and that didn't change with the return of her sight. Perhaps avoiding him seemed childish, but she was good at making herself scarce. Even X had struggled to find her when she had ignored his message to her and she hadn't been actively hiding from him at the time.

Fate, however, had different plans. Valdis had thought the streets around the Cafe were empty at this time of night, empty enough that she could pass mostly unbothered as the giant black Hound she could become. But his scent had been downwind, her senses tight and he was right there.

[afoolsgold]

For reasons that may be apparent to Valdis now, the Fool does not often sleep well at night.

The outside of the cafe is closed, its lights dimmed and its windows shuttered, but the little table where the Fool often sits while selling his carvings is still in place. That is where the Fool sits now, a cup of tea held between both hands and his gaze wandering absently down the street. Or it would be wandering absently, had he not spotted Valdis.

He goes very still where he sits, colour draining from his tawny face. A great Hound, Devin had said to him. Was this it? His mind races in a thousand different directions, but fright has him frozen in place, unable to move.

[redlightgreenlight]

The look on the Fool's face, the way the blood drained from him, the fear she could sense in the air, told her that he must know something. Even the natives didn't look at her with such fear. Her head drops, nose trailing the ground as she approaches him, her long stride taking her within several yards of him. He doesn't smell of anything, strange, like something is missing from her senses, almost like when Kratos shut down his emotions, except less controlled and more a state of being.

Well met by midnight, Mr. Fool. She said dryly, head still near the ground, though her bright emerald eyes met his with ease.

[afoolsgold]

There's something oddly comforting about the presence of a wolf in his thoughts again--even if that wolf is Valdis. The Fool startles as recognition lights in his eyes; his fear begins to ebb.

"Valdis," he says quietly, gazing at her with clear wonder in his eyes. A moment later and he rises up from his seat at the table and takes a step around it, taking a few light, cautious steps towards her.

[redlightgreenlight]

The look in his eyes, first of recognition, then of soft wonder reminded her far too much of Wan, her first real friend, and a comparison she didn't want to make. Her head rose at the sound of her name, but otherwise stood her ground as he approached, her stance neutral.

Yes.

Valdis watched him closely, drawing breath over her tongue, trying to taste the air and find what she searched for, but to no avail, so she let it go, unwilling to put more energy toward something she didn't care about.

You seem surprised, she continued, Did you think I was human?

I

[rutility]

Rutile is uninterested in trouble. After their inglorious arrival in Aifaran, they've been doing their best to keep to themselves as they acclimate to the local cultures. Ever the naturalist, their curiosity about the native flora has led them through overgrown alleys and secluded parks, taking notes all the while.

They've never run into problems wandering alone, neither here nor back home, and when a passerby suggests that Rutile might be better off exchanging some rhinn in return for protection, they scoff. The suggestion that Rutile is in any danger from these soft-bodied organic beings is comical. "Thank you," Rutile says coldly, "I have no need of any kind of insurance. I'm quite capable of taking care of myself. You may continue on your way."

The stranger blocks their path back to the road and makes no move to leave. Though confident in their own abilities, when the stranger begins to lay out a threat, Rutile prepares to run.

[corundrum]

Padparadscha is initially prepared to just keep an eye on the situation for the Fool's sake, but focus on walking past the group to where they're heading. However, it seems the ones responsible for this 'protection racket' aren't so interested in letting go. Padparadscha's light smile remains in place, but as the hardest of the three of them, they put themselves to the fore of the group once the stranger makes his threat.

"Little one, please don't make this harder on yourself than it needs to be," they say, tone still mild and peaceable. For just a moment, the person seems thrown by the lax calm of the statement, but stubbornly remains in place.

With a breathless being's equivalent of a sigh, Padparadscha reaches out as if to move the person physically out of their way.

[afoolsgold]

Predictably, this does not go well.

When Padparadscha reaches out to move the leader of this group of street thugs out of the way, the leader--an Erol'an, by the looks of him--steps back quickly and whips a hand towards his pocket, as though he's about to withdraw a weapon. "Look," he says, and it's hard to tell whether he sounds this hostile because he's angry or a little afraid of the peculiar Dreamfolk in front of him, "you either pay now, or you pay later. With interest. Get what I'm saying?"

The other thugs behind him (four or five of them, to be precise) are holding some mean-looking metal batons. Coming to stand beside Padparadscha, the Fool looks from them to Rutile, then back again; he has hold of his yimo in his pocket, but hasn't yet withdrawn it.

[rutility]

While numbers are of no concern to Rutile - it's typical for two gems to take out entire Lunarian vessels without assistance - the metal rods change the situation. Rutile is hard, but brittle; even Phosphophyllite could snap their limbs if they aimed the right way. A blade would be trivial; a club is dangerous.

Padparadscha's voice snatches their attention for a crucial second and then, a moment later, appears in their peripheral vision, a glistening mess of peach curls clinking as they walk. They have their obsidian blade with them; a blessing, because their companion - a golden human who might topple with a breeze - will likely be of little help.

With backup ready, Rutile's cavalier attitude reasserts itself. With instinct honed from centuries of combat they consider several tactics: a single swipe of Padparadscha's blade to disable the two in front; a running start and a leap, and Rutile can knock the ones in the back aside before they have time to raise their weapons. This could go smoothly. It needs to: they aren't exactly carrying any resin.

"Like I said, I don't intend to pay anything," Rutile says evenly, and gestures at Padparadscha. "I recommend you listen to my companion. You have one more chance."

[corundrum]

While Padparadscha has somewhat less to worry about from the batons, they're very aware that's not so much the case for Rutile, and their expression shifts in a very slight, but at the same time, very significant way. It's the difference between serene and politely asserting that someone is about to very much regret starting this exchange.

The leader of the group seems to get the gist, because he grabs for that weapon he's been going for - the thugs not moving yet, grinning like they expect this to be over with his strike. Padparadscha's gaze shifts, but they don't move.

A wicked iron knife collides with Padparadscha's torso, and there's a clink and the ugly sound of bending metal. The now-useless weapon drops to the ground, and the gang leader, shaking slightly, steps back.

As soon as he does, Padparadscha steps forward. Their blade comes out with a practiced ease, a slash with the reverse of the blade knocking the legs out from under both the two thugs in front and the leader, whose horror had backed him up close enough to them to make him an easy third target. They hook their sword in a very particular, refined way to bring the three heads to the ground as hard as possible without breaking anything - the head is a fragile thing for any species, they're learning.

"...Yes, right there is good."

V; because I'm a rebel

[annihilist]

After X's accidental post to the public network and Devin's extremely uncomfortable meeting with him, the vampire has effectively withdrawn from what little social engagement he has. He goes to work, and he either retreats to his apartment (which as of yet he has not given the address to anyone) or finds other ways to vanish. Any communication with acquaintances is curt or non-existent; if he'd been smarter and more vigilant, there wouldn't have been a need to abandon those connections. He wouldn't have had them in the first place.

Undoubtedly, someone will take exception to this behavior. In what might be the most obvious indication of avoidant behavior, Devin even finagles his work schedule at the library so his movements and his presence are less predictable. However, it's still the easiest place to find him if one is patient enough. He'll be a captive audience, sorting through piles of returned books and organizing them.

[afoolsgold]

Someone does indeed take exception to this behaviour.

This is not the first time that the Fool has come by the library in search of Devin, though previous attempts were unsuccessful for obvious reasons. Unexpected schedule changes, the helpful Castian at the front desk had told him, and offered to leave a message. The Fool had declined; he'd come back another day.

It takes three separate visits before he is directed back to the cataloguing room where Devin is at his methodical work.

At the doorway he hesitates; the curtly answered text messages aside, he is calling on Devin at his place of work unannounced, and if it was truly Devin's wish to keep him at a distance, then this visit will do neither of them any favours. (That possibility, that he is being pushed away for some mysterious reason, cuts him deeply, and so he pointedly redirects his thoughts away from considering that pain; its source, what inspires it, must be sequestered away to a quiet part of his mind reserved for other thoughts of closeness that he can't dwell on anymore.)

He taps his knuckles lightly against the door frame before taking an idle step across the threshold. There he leans with his slim arms folded over his chest and a mildly wry twist to his lips. He lifts his chin, makes a bit of a show of looking first this way, then that way. "So this is where you live now," he muses aloud dryly, and gestures towards the bare walls. "I suppose the rent must be agreeable. No kitchen, no bedroom--no windows, even."

He's teasing, but it's teasing with a point.

[annihilist]

Devin hears the Fool's approach, but without raising his eyes he does not realize it's him until he knocks. If he'd been paying more attention, he might have noticed that the sound of the Fool's arrival lacked a scent, which would have been identifying on it's own. Recognizing his distraction doesn't help with the muddled reaction he has to the Fool's presence.

There is discomfort, not so much at being found but at the possibility of the Fool discovering why he's been hiding. There is also relief, buried under the training that tells him attachments are unacceptable. Loneliness has been a companion for much of his life, but it has never quite stifled the ache to be with people. And something else, too, that he doesn't know how to name; only that it's precarious.

His expression is unreadable when he looks at the Fool, a careful arrangement of pale features. "Plenty of books, however," Devin returns, holding one up. "I prefer to live simply. There are fewer distractions that way."

Point: heard, and not acknowledged.

[afoolsgold]

Precarious, but also precious. The Fool is loathe to look too closely at it either, lest it inadvertently shatter under his attention. But it needs nurturing, too; like protecting a seedling from the elements, so that it might have the chance to grow on its own.

"I prefer to live simply. There are fewer distractions that way."

It would be helpful if the other half of this arrangement weren't as set in his ways as a bed of river stone. The Fool gives him an arch look that communicates plenty. Then he sighs and pushes himself away from the door frame.

"I won't ask if you are all right. I can tell that you are not." His arch expression has shifted subtly into one of introspective melancholy, but whatever questions may be hiding behind his amber gaze, he doesn't ask them. Instead he reaches into one of the pockets of his scarlet coat to withdraw something vaguely shaped like a book and covered neatly in wrapping paper. "I would have given this to you earlier, but it--" a considering pause, "--gave me some trouble." Then he offers it out.

Should Devin take it, he'll find it heavier than a book, and more solidly built as well. When unwrapped, it is a small wood engraving of a rose garden as seen through a doorway--rather resemblant of a stanza from a poem Devin recited to him once, though not this part. The words themselves, though, are etched finely into the opposite side of the engraving.

"I found a copy of your book in a specialty shop," he remarks mildly, though his gaze is anything but as he watches Devin's face for his reaction. (Which matters to him quite a lot, for some mysterious reason.)

III

[spiralpatterns]

Fortunately, Zephyr definitely still lives here.

He's actually just coming back, hands in his pockets and idly sauntering the halls with no real rush, when he sees a familiar face. A friendly acquaintance. There's a notable brightening.

"Hey, what brings you here?" And a quick wave of hello.

[afoolsgold]

Zephyr meanders into view, and the Fool similarly brightens, the smile changing into a mild laugh at that question. "How curious that you should ask," he replies rather secretively, a glitter in his eye, and he holds up the wrapped parcel so that Zephyr can see it. (The paper is rather brightly coloured and artfully sealed with a golden ribbon; the Fool does delight in presentation.)

He takes a few steps nearer to his acquaintance. "I came here looking for you, in fact." He gestures down the corridor. "Shall we go to the common room?"

[spiralpatterns]

"What, am I just supposed to not be curious?" Zephyr turns that curious eye on the parcel, which is actually very nicely done. In retrospect he isn't at all surprised, not from the Fool.

"For me?" Zephyr's expression clears a moment later as he puts together their meeting last month with a wrapped parcel. "Oh, I see. Yeah, sure. How've you been?" He turns to head that way, waiting for the Fool before he properly starts moving.

[afoolsgold]

The Fool waits patiently the requisite moment or two before Zephyr puts two and two together, then falls into step beside him with a pleased look on his face.

"...How've you been?"

Well, there is a question. He exhales and threads a bit of hair back from his eyes while summoning up his answer. "Oh, in and out of trouble, as is my wont. Currently out of it--trouble, that is--and all the better for it." That is a lot of words that don't quite answer Zephyr's question, but with the Fool, that's par for the course. The look he turns on his friend is sincere and genial, however, and he smiles when he asks, "And you?"

When they reach the common room, there are a handful of other Dreamfolk milling around doing this and that, and an empty window seat looking out across the grounds. The Fool settles onto one end of the seat cushion before gesturing for Zephyr to make himself comfortable on the other, then extends the parcel out to him. Inside it, Zephyr will find a striking likeness to the sketch the Fool had drawn of Lippy the previous month; it is small enough to be carried as a trinket in one's pocket, or worn as a pendant around the neck.

V.

[denyamenti]

After the Fool's network post the previous month showing off the carved implements he'd made, it had re-awoken Bakura's interest in doing likewise. He hadn't done any since arriving in Aifaran, and because they'd not intended to end up leaving Keeliai, he hadn't brought any of his tools with him. Additionally, he frequently used it as an alternative for attention when his mind was too busy for sleep, and that had been less of an issue in Aifaran thus far, no doubt owing in large part to the fact that Zorc had once again gone dormant.

Still, the Fool's network post had brought it back to his mind again, so he'd come up with something to exchange. He'd contacted him and set up a time to meet at an outdoor cafe.

[afoolsgold]

The outdoor café in question happens to be the one beneath his own apartment, which suits the Fool quite nicely. It's a dazzlingly bright summer afternoon that finds him relaxing at his table while waiting for Bakura, sipping a cool beverage while shading himself with the assistance of a parasol the same hue of turquoise as the rest of his clothing.

When he glimpses his acquaintance approaching down the street, he lifts a hand up to catch his eye, smiling wryly.

[denyamenti]

By contrast, Bakura looks oddly at ease in the bright sunlight, which seems at odds with his preferred haunts. Nor does the heat trouble him, though it remains to be seen if that will carry into the hotter summer months.

"Convenient place," he says as he sits, setting a paper gift bag on the table.

[afoolsgold]

"Indeed," the Fool agrees with a wry tip of his head, and pillows his chin atop his curled knuckles. "I live right there." He points upward, towards the apartment just above the cafe.

A moment later and his attention is captured by the gift bag. He leans in, inquisitive as a cat, but does not yet touch it. Instead he gives Bakura a sly look. "Should I ask, or is the reveal part of the mystery?"