in this town, don't we love it now

[afoolsgold]

Characters: The Fool, Klaus, Devin, Rutile, Trahearne + you!
Date: Early October
Location: Throughout Aifaran; specifically, the Fool’s apartment, Die Rosa Tulpe.
Situation: A catch-all for October.
Warnings/Rating: None, will update as needed.




I. Some Uninvited Guests (Die Rosa Tulpe; Open + Klaus)

On a bright, early tropical morning when the Fool ventures downstairs to set up his display table for the day, he hardly makes it three steps beyond the stairs when he trips over--a pumpkin? Startled, he nimbly skirts beside it, catching himself against one of the cafe tables, and then looks after it, shocked.

“What--?” he begins, but the rest of his exclamation tapers off abruptly as he takes in the sight before him: Die Rosa Tulpe, besieged by--well, small gourd people.

Dealing with this mess is evidently his task for the day, so whomever happens upon the cafe today will be greeted by this spectacle. Enjoy.


II. Rude Awakening (The Fool's apartment; closed to Devin)

The change to the Fool’s relationship with Devin has his heart singing even when he and his paramour aren’t in each other’s company--but there are few joys in life more fulfilling than waking up beside the object of one’s affections. That is the Fool’s prevailing thought as he comes to one morning, peering across the blankets at Devin’s profile with the tiniest of smiles curling up the corner of his lips.

His second thought arrives abruptly, and is far less pleasant: they aren’t alone in the bedroom.

Seated at the foot of the Fool’s bed is a small child with uncanny, unnaturally exaggerated features, and it’s looking right at the pair of them.

The Fool stares back at it, then takes a breath. “Devin,” he begins rather too cautiously, “don’t be alarmed.” That’s always a good way to begin a conversation, isn’t it?


III. A Business Arrangement (Die Rosa Tulpe; Open + Rutile)

At some indeterminate point early in the month after the pumpkin pests are dealt with and the Dreaming Sickness is no longer a constant drain on his energy, the Fool is at last able to redirect his attention to his chosen vocation here in Aifaran: his woodcarving.

(And prophesying the future but--well. That gift doesn’t pay the rent.)

His latest pieces are staggeringly intricate; small posies that could have been plucked from a garden, were they not clearly of wood grain and solid to the touch; a bird upon a nest, its folded wings deceptively soft. There are many others, of course--all for sale.


IV. The Messenger (closed to Trahearne)

[in the middle of the night early on in October, Trahearne will receive a peculiar text message from the Fool.]

I have something important to tell you.

[a span of a few moments, and then another message follows:]

I think.
 

Comments

I!

[psituational]

It's definitely not what X expects when he visits the cafe today. The door's propped open when he gets there, and three small pumpkins waddle through the doorway, looking -- and X couldn't explain this perception if he tried -- angry.

Little pumpkin people. That's strange.

He edges carefully around them into the cafe and bumps into the Fool, who looks like he has his work cut out for him dealing with an array of living gourds doing their best to make the Die Rosa Tulpe a living theatre of surreal proportions. X can't help smiling. "A bit of Shadow Nights magic gone wrong?" he asks, nudging a particularly active pumpkin with his foot. It immediately latches onto his ankle.

[afoolsgold]

The ordinarily quite glamorous Fool looks decidedly unglamorous by the time X arrives and bumps into him. His glossy golden hair has been tugged into the most perfunctory of pony tails, loose strands held at bay with a red bandana. Bits of gourd viscera (from where the Fool has, accidentally or otherwise, dropped the errant pumpkin person here and there) stain the front of an apron that used to be pink, but now has several unsightly yellow smears in the fabric. He looks terrible, there's no getting around it.

And whatever tart reply he's on the cusp of snapping at X is forgotten when the little monster latches onto his friend's ankle.

"These little beasts!" He exhales in exasperation and quickly snatches up his broom to, yet again, swat at the pumpkin pest trying to make a meal out of X's ankle. "Shoo! Get off!"

[psituational]

That time when the Fool defended X against a Sentry guard -- physically standing in the way and giving the guard a piece of his mind -- was objectively far more impressive than what's happening right now, as he swats a living pumpkin off X's ankle with a broom. Yet, X's level of gratitude is exactly the same, due in large part to the living pumpkin's bite being much sharper than it has any right to be.

X yelps, and kicks it right into the broom's trajectory. It successfully sends the pumpkin flying, but the impact of his foot connecting with the broom cracks part of the lower half of the handle.

"How long have they been here?" he asks, rubbing his ankle, now fully on board the 'these little beasts!' train.

[afoolsgold]

"Long enough," the Fool huffs, swatting at the hissing and spitting little monsters as they cavort and caper around like... well, like he might've, when he was just a little Fool. One or two of Leo's bibirus hop past to nibble at a few errant vines; Klaus's solution, apparently.

"Since this morning," he allows at last. "I don't know where they came from, but I wish they would go back!"

[psituational]

"Since this morning?" X sounds incredulous. "You've been dealing with this for hours?"

No wonder the whole cafe looks like a smushed pumpkin patch.

X takes a moment to examine the bare skin of his ankle -- no wound, no broken skin -- before he looks around for another apron or another broom. "Let me help," he says. "We can herd them out. Then we can track down whoever's responsible and convince them to come and help clean up."

On their own, the words could be a joke, but X is perfectly serious. He'd come to see the Fool for a reason, but rescuing his livelihood from what's probably a magical prank comes first.

[afoolsgold]

The thought of having to trek across the city in his current state--without so much as the opportunity for a proper bath--is unconscionable to the Fool, who rarely leaves his apartment without taking time to care for his appearance first. (He is vain; he won’t deny it.)

“Oh,” he scoffs exhaustedly, “let’s just get them out, and quickly.”

He hops right to it, too, alternating between herding the little monsters (daemids, Klaus called them) out with his reedy arms and legs, or with the aid of his broom. Realistically it doesn’t take that long to get them out of the cafe; the bibirus that Klaus had turned loose upon them earlier in the day did a good job of clearing out the worst of them.

Once the last of them have been sent packing, the Fool leans against his broom and drops his head atop his hands. Ugh.