[OPEN] you can paint me any colour and i can be your clown

[afoolsgold]

Characters: the Fool, Rutile, Trahearne, Yato + you??
Date: throughout August; specific starters may have specific dates
Location: the city; the turtle’s head
Situation: A trip to the turtle’s head; an attempted mugging (again); making a turtle’s acquaintance; horns???
Warnings/Rating: A bit of violence in prompt #2!



I. At the turtle’s head (during the thunderstorm; closed to Rutile)

The thunderheads lining the horizon had not appeared imminently threatening until suddenly they were, and the torrential downpour that sweeps across the shoreline leaves the Fool utterly drenched before he can so much as scramble upright from the rock he has folded himself upon to meditate. He draws his raincoat up around himself quickly, tugging the hood up over his head to shield his face and hair from the wind, when the first lightning bolt cracks the air open around him.

It lights the clouds up from within first, revealing layer upon layer of dark clouds and simmering electricity, before almost in the same instant striking down to crash into the churning surface of the sea.

The roaring thunderclap follows a moment later, and he jolts, fingers seizing in the front of his coat. He isn’t in any immediate danger, but anyone with a shred more wisdom to spare would make a beeline for cover of some variety, rather than move towards the shoreline, pathologically curious, with eyes only for the lightning that makes bright the dark sky.


II. This Is A Stick-Up (Crime 1; closed to Trahearne)

The Fool would find these repeat encounters with Aifaran’s criminal underbelly exceedingly tedious if they did not also leave him paralyzed with deer-like fright first. That is undoubtedly how the Kin’nal swordsman gets his first strike in.

“Your money, idiot!”

It’s a glancing blow that sends the Fool staggering--but not falling--against the mouth of the alley wall, with a hand flying up to stem the flow of blood from his now bleeding arm. He darts a harried glance back at his assailant… who seems just as startled to discover that he’s drawn blood, to be honest. But he seems to master himself a moment later, advancing on the Fool with his sword up again.

“Listen,” the Kin’nal says warningly, “I’m only going to ask you one more t--”

The alley way is dirty enough that when the Fool kicks up a sudden cloud of grit and dust into his attacker’s face, he sputters and staggers back. That gives the Fool plenty of time to burst out of the alleyway at a run towards the nearest peopled street--though the Kin’nal isn’t far behind, once he’s cleared the dirt from his eyes.


III. Turtle Friend (Faith 4; OPEN)

The Fool does not understand what it means to be ‘blessed,’ though he has grown to understand and even share Konryu’s reverence for turtles during his time in this world. They are like and yet unlike the dragons of his own world; the breadth and depth of their power and intelligence can’t be easily understood by a moral mind, though their capacity for kindness and compassion seems far greater. What else would possess a sentient creature to gather the small, helpless peoples of the world onto the back of his shell, and devote his life to carrying them through the sea?

Although, the Fool supposes this little one is a bit young for such a task.

“Fancy meeting you here again,” he teases the small creature as he perches on the edge of the dock, absently dipping his bare feet into the water. It paddles contentedly between his feet.


IV. Debiru Maaaaan! (Meta 3; OPEN)

“...we will issue you a full refund, of course--this, ah, this is was not a side-effect that we anticipated--”

“Oh, nonsense.” In the mirror that has been provided to him inside the beauticians’ boutique, the pair of strange horns that now extend up through the Fool’s hairline and sweep themselves backward over the crown of his head highlight the aspects of his features that seem to be just the wrong side of human. He smiles at the sight of them; perhaps the beauticians had not succeeded in covering up the small scar above his eyebrow that had been given to him early on in his time here in Aifaran, but these--

“I shall keep them.Tintaglia would turn green with envy,” he muses aloud to himself.

The beauticians exchange nervous glances. One of them clears her throat. “So, um, about the payment.”

“Mm?” Quizzically, the Fool looks back towards them from admiring himself, then, “oh, yes, of course,” and proceeds to fish the correct amount of rhinn out of his changepurse.

(Perhaps you glimpse him through the window of the shop, or encounter him while he wends his way through the busy streets back to Die Rosa Tulpe. Either way, he seems awfully pleased for someone now sporting a pair of unsolicited body modifications from his head.)


V. The Fool’s apartment (backdated to July; closed to Yato)

Barely dressed in his house robe after his hasty exit from the bathtub, the Fool stares at the last message he has received from Ilda… and waits.

Seconds creep by. Then a minute. The Fool sighs and tosses his yimo onto the bed, some of the tension ebbing from his shoulders. Given no one has materialized in his bedroom yet, perhaps it is safe to change into something a bit more presentable.

He selects a few scarlet and turquoise slips of fabric that probably pass for clothes from his (rather generous) closet, then disappears behind a silk partition in his bedroom to change.

Just in case.
 

Comments

[rutility]

If Rutile is counting, it is as subconscious as the tremors the thunder sends rattling through their core. Their eyes are still scraping the horizon when the Fool’s words, barely audible, reach them. Sharply their neck twists and they look down to find the Fool clutching his head with filthy fingers.

They don’t have personal experience with pain, and they told the Fool as much last they met. But Rutile has been among the company of humans long enough to recognize what is normal and what is not, and curling up and piteous moans are firmly the latter. Rutile crouches beside the Fool, their fingers hovering inches from his form. As delicate as a gem, he is, and not nearly as strong.

“Fool,” they murmur, closer to his ear. “You’ve spoken to the Turtle. I am going to take you home now.”

Without waiting for a protest or reply, Rutile wraps their arms around the Fool’s back and helps him to his feet, then in a couple of smooth motions sweeps another arm beneath his legs and cradles him to their chest. It is not the most efficient way to carry someone, but it is the one that will least bruise him - Rutile is not exactly a pillow. He is heavier than they expect him to be, but it is a trivial difference; they do not stagger as they adjust to their burden.

Then they set off up the shore and back toward the road. They’re no Yellow Diamond, but their speed is still more than they could have maintained had the Fool walked. They keep a brisk pace as they head back toward Aifaran and Die Rose Tulpe, rain hammering at their back and thunder echoing behind them.

[afoolsgold]

The Fool is easily gathered up into Rutile's arms, the agony of the Skill headache more than enough to render him incapable of protesting even if he wished to. No wonder Fitz had been driven time and time again to the bitterness of elfbark tea; the Fool suspects he wouldn't hesitate if someone told him eating hemlock might at least take the edge off. (And it would--rather permanently.)

The journey back to Die Rosa Tulpe goes by in a brisk, wet blur, though by the time they reach the cafe's doors, he has come back to himself enough to feel genuine humiliation over his foolishness... characteristic though it may be. "I'm sorry," he is in the process of telling Rutile as they come through the cafe's front doors, dripping sea water and sand across Klaus' clean floors.

[purered]

The cafe/flowershop was relatively quiet - Klaus was in the midst of a sort of soft close so he could tend to the plants (though he'd stopped to play a chess-like game with one elderly regular he'd befriended), when the the door burst open, Rutile carrying the Fool in their arms.

Klaus stood immediately when he saw the Fool's prone state.

"What on earth's happened?" he asked, closing the distance in a few quick strides. He looked to Rutile for some explanation as the Fool didn't seem like he was in any state to say anything.

[rutility]

“Be still,” Rutile chides the Fool over his apologies. They waste no time striding over to the corner couch and laying him, sopping wet, upon it. Then they turn to Klaus - whom they haven’t met yet, but who certainly seems like he could be in charge around here, and asks questions as though he is - and continue, “I found him out on the beach not an hour ago, carrying on about speaking to the turtle. I daresay he did,” they note solemnly, “but it seems to have left him incapacitated.”

Once the Fool is taken care of, Rutile peels off their lab coat and drapes it across the back of an unoccupied chair to dry; their gloves, riddled with sand, quickly follow. They are left in their black uniform, which is still soaked, but does not drip with quite the same intensity. They pick up several napkins from the table and dab dry their face and hair, surveying the mess the two of them have left across Klaus’s lovely shop with resignation.

“I imagine you know better than I what kind of care he needs,” Rutile goes on. “If you will point me in the direction of a mop, I will clean this while you help him be human again.”

(A familiar eye might notice that Rutile’s colors are rather more dull than usual, but it could be the light.)

[afoolsgold]

He is easily laid upon the chaise lounge, and in his dazed state more resembling of a drenched rag doll version of himself than a person. Still, the Fool is aware enough to recognize that plenty of trouble is being undertaken on his behalf--nearly as much trouble as he has created on his own.

Such is the way of things when he gets a mad idea into his head.

"Just some water," he requests a little hoarsely, reaching up a hand to press against both his pounding temples and his tightly closed eyes. Even dim light is blinding, and only adds to the ache in his head. Almost to himself, he adds, "The shadows are shifting." It's a nonsensical sort of thing to say, and whatever context there might be for it, he doesn't have the energy to speak it aloud just yet.

[purered]

Klaus's inane fretting stopped when Rutile told him what had happened, and the colour seemed to drain from his face. And though it sounded like nonsense, Klaus's expression grew grave at the Fool's utterance.

"Please don't worry about the floor right now," Klaus said, dismissing the damp mess. "He may have had a seizure. Would you sit with him while I get the first aid kit and make sure he remains stable?"

Klaus knew how vast the minds of the great turtles were - he could only hope there wasn't any permanent damage.

He hurried to the back room, glad for once at Leo's penchant for getting injured. The first aid kit was thus always near at hand and not buried behind boxes. He also grabbed some towels for Rutile and the Fool - no reason for them to stay damp.

[rutility]

Rutile doesn't know what a seizure is, but the gravity of Klaus's tone suggests that the Fool may be in far worse condition than they initially assumed. Though they are still annoyed at having been caught in the rain for so long, they are suddenly gratified that they arrived when they did. How much more damage could the Fool have done to himself had they not come along?

"Of course," Rutile acquiesces, gladly letting Klaus take the reins. They sit gingerly near the Fool's head and fold their hands in their lap, watching him with a steady gaze.

The shadows are shifting. What does it mean for the shadows to shift? A quick glance about the room reveals that everything is as expected, and the one thing Rutile can think of that would fit that sort of description doesn't exist in Aifaran, let alone during a storm.

When Klaus returns with the first aid kit and the towels they gratefully accept, tossing one around their shoulders and laying another atop the Fool like a blanket. They step aside to allow Klaus room - he is far larger than any other human Rutile has met, perhaps even rivaling Adamant - but stay close by, both to keep an eye on the Fool and to get a glimpse at what humans keep in their first aid kits.

[afoolsgold]

The Fool lays very still on the chaise lounge as Klaus rushes off to find the first aid kit, and so is an easy patient for Rutile to manage in his absence. He doesn't do much of anything except press his fingers into his temples; if he's had a seizure, he would certainly not be the person to verify it just yet, not when his faculties haven't returned completely.

By the time Klaus returns with the towels and the kit (and Rutile has draped the blanket across him), he has managed to crack his amber eyes open enough to take in his surroundings. His pupils are still blown unsettlingly wide, but when he looks from Klaus to Rutile, they narrow enough to suggest that he sees them, rather than whatever it is that the turtle presented to him.

He also, rather belatedly, recognizes that Die Rosa Tulpe is quite a distance away from the turtle's head. When he winces this time, it's less from pain and more from embarrassment. "I have never been wise," he admits, "but perhaps that was foolish even for me."