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

[purered]

Klaus shook one of the creeping tendrils off his own ankles as he took in the sheer scope of how much of his shop had been taking over. He'd been warned about this - Daemids apparently. And while he was generally inclined towards curiosity, they were already causing chaos with the Fool's woodwork and that. That was untenable.

"Please hold them off for one minute," Klaus said, now quite awake. "I'll be right back."

He didn't wait for an affirmation from the Fool - an idea had occurred to Klaus and he bolted upstairs. There was the sound of his heavy footfalls as he shuffled around his apartment, and he returned shortly, his arms full of Leonardo's tiny army of bibirus.

Setting down the soft little bunbirds, they charged like little soldiers into the patch of pumpkins, crunching, munching and nibbling at stalk, leaf and gourd.

The Daemids, seeing the dreaded lagomorphs, fled as their pumpkin homes were gnawed on.

Klaus grabbed the brooms from the cleaning cupboard and tossed one to the Fool.

"We can shoo them off, and then we'll handle the remains."

[afoolsgold]

Exasperated, the Fool snips back, "Hold them off with what, precisely?" but Klaus has already gone off to fetch... a herd of bibirus apparently. His expression of bafflement is short-lived, however, as the little creatures quickly set to work doing what rabbit-birds do best: eat things, apparently.

The broom tossed his way startles him, but he catches it before the handle can bonk him across the forehead. "Should I expect this to be a common occurrence, this month?" he asks tiredly, and gives one of the capering Daemids a firm whack with the broom to send it scampering towards the door.

[purered]

A small group of daemids had clustered together, ready to try to take down the largest and fattest of the bibirus. Klaus very gently swept them into the dustbin and deposited them unceremoniously outside.

"I certainly hope not," he remarked, herding a few more out the door. "I'd hate to have to constantly close the shop. They didn't damage any of your work did they?"

[afoolsgold]

As they take modest strides in the direction of managing this mischief, some of the Fool's harried irritation at last begins to ebb. He sweeps a few more of the daemids out the door and then sighs, leaning against the door frame to draw a wrist across his forehead, pushing his hair back. "No, thankfully," he says and looks back towards where a few of his more elaborate works remain displayed on a small shelf behind the work station.

He kneels down to gather up one of the bibirus into his arms before it can hop out the door, and affectionately strokes the little thing across its downy head while carrying it back towards its fellows. "Are all of these Leo's?"

[purered]

Klaus was gathering up the unnibbled pumpkins to set aside for later - he could probably fix up a number of pumpkin dishes for later.

Klaus's answer, however, is uncharacteristically noncommittal. A simple 'mm' of affirmation, before he realized just how rude he sounded.

"Ah - sorry. Yes. They were very much drawn to him. I doubt a week would go by that he didn't bring one home," he explained.

[afoolsgold]

The uncharacteristic response communicates far more than anything else Klaus might have chosen to say. The Fool feels a pang of sympathy; it is terribly, wretchedly unfair what has befallen those two.

He crosses quietly over to the tall man's side while he gathers up the pumpkins that are able to be salvaged, and reaches out to touch his arm. "I'm very sorry," he says quietly, "that he is gone."

[purered]

The swish of the broom he was brushing across the floor stopped.

"He's home," Klaus reassured. "Safe. ...As safe as one can be in Jerusalem's Lot in any case. And among friends. Many return simply to death."

He resumed sweeping, head lowered.

"But thank you. I know others do not have the comfort of knowing whether or not they'll see him again."