[OPEN] just your eyes

[afoolsgold]

Characters: The Fool + you?
Date: Throughout February
Location: Aifaran, the Dreaming Bridge, the Ban Om central Temple
Situation: Various.
Warnings/Rating: A bit of violence.


I. MISTAKEN IDENTITY (CRIME AFFINITY 4)

(OOC: this takes place at the very end of the month! and just one person respond to this one please, I don't want the Fool mugged more than once!)




Perhaps the Fool should count his blessings that this case of mistaken identity ends as abruptly as it does--with him, prostrate on the dirty ground of a backstreet alley, one shaking hand clutched to his face while the other is extended out almost desperately to fend off his would-be attacker. Before additional blows can rain down against him, though, his attacker promptly backs off, and takes off at a sprint down the alleyway.

Dazed and bloody, the Fool lays where he's left, coming back to his senses slowly... along with a horrifying awareness of the filth that now clings to his clothes and skin. ...He could probably use some help.



II. WOULD YOU LIKE SOME LITERATURE (FAITH AFFINITY 3)




Possibly proselytizing evangelists of any variety might have bothered someone else, but the Fool has always possessed a keen interest in divinity--and very little else in Konryu has captured and held his attention with the same unyielding fascination as the Great Turtles. When he is approached by a presentative of the Ban Om, therefore, it is only natural for him to become quite excited by the subject.

It is some days later when the Fool finds himself seated within the peaceful, sprawling gardens of the central Temple's grounds, absently toying with the small turtle charm that he had acquired at some point. What would it have been like, he can't help but wonder, if the folk of the Six Duchies, of Jhaampe, of Bingtown and Trehaug, had grown to venerate dragonkind with this same deep respect? "Perhaps nothing at all," he muses out loud to the little turtle in his grasp, his lips quirking into a most whimsical smirk. "I can scarcely imagine a dragon deigning to carry a human civilization upon its back."

Absently, he begins to work at threading the charm onto a bracelet already richly decorated with wooden baubles carved by his own hand.



III. GALLERY OPENING (ART AFFINITY 3)




Perhaps it is more Lord Golden who slips into this special exhibit than Fool, for he appears as at home here among the art connoisseurs and critics of Aifaran as he had days ago within the central Temple of Ban Om. A touch more artfully composed, of course, with more makeup to emphasize the dramatic amber of his eyes and high cheekbones, to better blend in with this society. But Lord Golden's histrionic mannerisms and vanity are absent; when he smiles at someone eager to hear the opinion of one of the Dreamfolk on the artwork, his commentary is candid, rather than inflammatory.

At some stage, perhaps he slips away from the crowd to consider a piece of artwork over a glass of wine, or steps outside to take in the air and allow himself a break from the pressures of this strange society he's ingratiating himself within. Perhaps that is where he catches your eye.



IV. WILDCARD!


(surprise me!)

Comments

I

[powertotearer]

Eiji doesn't even think when he sees someone attacking some obviously helpless person lying on the ground. He dashes in, eyes glowing purple, ready to fight.

But it looks like something about the very inhuman eyes on the apparently human Dreamfolk scares off the attacker, since they go running off before Eiji can even hit them.

But a second later, he turns to the Fool, kneeling down, a little afraid to touch him.

"Are you okay? Can you answer me?"

[afoolsgold]

In response, the Fool groans where he lays, still holding one hand over one eye as though afraid to pull it away. When he does, there's blood on his palm, and he voices a startled, frightened sound at the sight of it, red and angry, on his palm. (The injury, truthfully, is to his eyebrow and cheekbone rather than to his eye--small blessings.)

It takes him a moment to realize that someone is speaking to him; perhaps his ears are still ringing. Then he turns his amber eyes to Eiji and, still afraid, seems unsure at first whether the newcomer is going to attack him, too.

"Are you okay? Can you answer me?"

...ah. Perhaps not, then.

"I have been better," the Fool replies, a little hoarse but with a shade of his usual wry humour in his voice. He looks to his rescuer's face and attempts a smile, but it doesn't quite reach his gaze. For obvious reasons. He extends a hand out to him. "Would you help me up? I believe I can stand."

[powertotearer]

He's pretty bloodied up, and definitely worried by it. Eiji's first instinct is to grab his own scarf and see if he can wrap up the worst of the wounds, but then the Fool answers and asks for help standing up.

"Are you sure?" Eiji asks, still looking at his injuries with a bit of doubt. "Maybe just try sitting?"

He does reach his hand down, though.

[afoolsgold]

"No, I don't believe that's necessary, I think I can--oh."

One failed attempt at standing later sees the Fool lowering himself back onto the filthy alley floor with a dazed, dizzy look to his face, accompanied by real dismay as he takes in the state of his clothes. It's more than just disgust at a bit of dirt and mud; the look on his face hearkens back to some deeper, darker trauma, a time where being in such a state meant something far worse to him than just a mere brush with a local criminal.

For a moment he sits very still. He swallows, then looks to meet Eiji's eyes. His own are rather pleading.

"...I don't think I can stand on my own, but neither can I tolerate being here a moment longer." If his voice shakes, he does his level best to keep it steady. He reaches out toward his rescuer. "Perhaps if I leaned on your shoulder...?"

An imposition, but one he would not make if he were not desperate.

[powertotearer]

Eiji nods quickly and starts to reach down, before having a second thought.

"Try not to...well, don't worry, with what's going to happen next. I try not to do it, but...I think I'll be stronger this way."

He reaches out his left hand this time, but he lets go of whatever's still keeping it in human form. Instead, a clawed, purple, reptilian arm is reaching down to help up the Fool and support him better.

[afoolsgold]

To his credit, the Fool does not faint from shock. His eyes--even the bruised, bloodied one--do grow wide from shock, however, and he stares up at Eiji with growing fascination.

"Are you kin to dragons?" he asks him, sounding as far from frightened as can be. He easily allows himself to be aided to his feet, watching his new acquaintance with undisguised interest.

IV Wildcard

[spoilsfun]

Upon arrival here, one of Conan's immediate priorities had been to familiarize himself with the city. He knew Beika. He'd known Keeliai.

He did not know Alfaran.

After several long days of exploring among stranger, it comes as a surprise to see a familiar face. A moment of thought, and Conan recognizes him as one of the two people he'd met in the fun house. With a quick tap of the deceleration, Conan slows down his skateboard and hops off it as it comes to a halt.

"We met before, right? What was your name?"

[afoolsgold]

The Fool, as is often his wont, is found today in the midst of a crowd at one of the city's markets, thoughtfully perusing bolts of colourful fabric as well as tools for needlework. Pensive, lost in thought, he is easily distracted by Conan's arrival, and seems to recognize him immediately when he turns his amber gaze towards the boy.

The boy with wisdom beyond his years; the Fool can relate to that.

"I'm called the Fool, among other names," he replies. "I don't think I caught your name before."

[spoilsfun]

"Conan Edogawa. Nice to meet you. For the second time." He wonders for a moment if The Fool was a pseudonym.

[afoolsgold]

It is, for the time being, the name he chooses to go by.

At Conan's introduction, he smiles warmly and dips his head in an almost theatrical little bow of greeting. "A delight to see you again," he says, and seems to mean it, given he hasn't lost his smile upon straightening up. After a moment, he holds a finger a loft as though to say 'a moment,' then turns to gather up a bolt of brilliant sapphire fabric from the stall. He loosens just enough of it to drape it across himself, then turns back to the the boy with arched eyebrows.

"What do you think?" he asks. "Is this my colour, or should I keep looking?"

[spoilsfun]

He glances at the fabric with disinterest. Conan usually only paid attention to clothes when it was relevant in a murder case.

"That depends on whether you're the kind of person that likes flashy clothes."

It was the kind of color that would stick out in people's memories. Depending on the situation, that could be either useful or dangerous.

II

[lasergrenades]

While Pepper is by no means a religious person, she remembers the Ban Om from when it was founded in Keeliai. For her, that wasn't all that long ago, but a lot could have changed in the intervening centuries. Curiosity has her visiting the central Temple more than anything else, at which point she ends up telling one of their members that she was around when this all got started. A small flurry of excited activity begins, including an offer to help her deal with readjusting or prayer to help her through some great difficulty - neither of which she really needs.

Thankfully, she spots one of her newer friends and is able to pry herself away with the excuse to go talk to him. The smile she's sporting when she approaches the Fool is a little bit sheepish, but she's genuinely happy to see him. "Humans would probably have to be smaller to make that work," Pepper remarks, having caught the last part of his comments as she neared. She gestures to the charm. "How's it going? I see you've gone on the tour."

[afoolsgold]

At her comments, the Fool dryly adds, "And dragons a good deal more self-sacrificing. No, I think they have little in common with your turtles."

"How's it going? I see you've gone on the tour."

He dips his head in a conceding nod and smiles, then gestures with a slim hand for her to accompany him on his idle walk through the gardens. He seems more than able to continue his beadwork while doing this, like he's been doing it for decades. (Which begs the question of his true age, as he looks younger than he is.) "I have," he replies lightly, "and I've tried to find some ways to make myself useful. Like looking for that missing girl." There his light smile fades; like so many others, he hasn't been successful.

[lasergrenades]

"Still, dragons are cool. I almost got eaten by a mechanical one, once," she relates, sounding not at all bothered by this fact.

Her expression dampens a little at the mention of the missing girl. "Yeah, it's a big mystery," Pepper agrees with a slight sigh. "But at least there's a ton of people looking. That'll help."

She's familiar with the statistics surrounding kidnappings, but if this is the Dreaming doing the snatching then her knowledge isn't as useful.

"Thanks for letting me interrupt, by the way," Pepper adds more quietly, amused. "I like the Ban Om, but they can be a little pushy when they get excited."

[afoolsgold]

"But at least there's a ton of people looking. That'll help."

"That is my earnest hope," the Fool replies softly, but there he is content to let the subject drop for now. Dwelling on the child's absence won't bring her back any swifter, especially not here. And as Pepper said, there were many eyes beyond his on the look out for her.

"You're most welcome," he says lightly when she thanks him, then sends a glance over his shoulder towards the Ban Om, who continue to regard them avidly as they make their way around the garden. The Fool chuckles a bit, threading another bead onto the string in his grasp, then deftly begins to tie off the end. "I expect the Dreamfolk remain an oddity here, though so far most of the locals I've encountered have been most welcoming to me. It's a kindness I never received in the Six Duchies--ah, that is the land I spent time in, before I was brought here."

II

[driverslicense]

Chase has been trying to dodge evangelists, but eventually they manage to catch him, and that’s how he came to be here.

In other words, he seems to have lost his guide, and he happens to be close enough to overhear.

"Why wouldn’t it?" Dragon, enormous turtle...he can’t see the difference.

[afoolsgold]

The Fool lightly scoffs, and doesn't look up from his delicate beadwork at first. "Ah, the hubris of such a request!" he replies, but there's a light smile on his face that suggests he isn't truly mocking Chase. "A dragon is not nearly so magnanimous as the turtles of Konryu. They wait for humans to serve them. Arrogant creatures."

Spoken with a curious amount of affection. The Fool turns his head at last to peer at Chase, considering him with curious amber eyes. "Do you have dragons, in your world?"

[driverslicense]

He tilts his head slightly. That does explain it, if The Fool knew dragons personally.

As for him... "There are no dragons." As far as he knows. "No giant turtles, either."

Which betrays that he may not be here to actually absorb the teachings. Either way— "You are Dreamfolk?"

[afoolsgold]

Whether he's here to learn the lessons of the Ban Om or not, the Fool seems to brook no objection to his presence. At that inquiry, he sighs and turns his eyes back to his beadwork. "That is what I have been told," he replies. "I expect the same is true of you?"

[driverslicense]

"That's right."

He peers at the Fool, and at the beadwork, wondering about the sigh.

"You object to that term?" Without quite being aware of his lack of enthusiasm for the Ban Om teachings, displeasure at the name is the only thing Chase has to go on for why the Fool reacted like that.

III

[tombadgerlock]

This is quite the beautiful place.

Fitz could well masquerade as someone of high society here. He has some experience with moving amongst diplomats as well as guardsmen, after all. With royalty, as well as farmfolk.

However, his heart is not in it, and so he has taken on the task of seeing to the gardens in this place, for a small additional stipend, for the next few days. He spends his time weeding, thinking with fondness of Patience and her dislike for marigolds in the wrong place. He avoids the patrons of the art gallery as best he can, until there is a strange... absence of presence behind him.

A person, yet with no scent.

He pivots from his kneeling position, dressed in his dusty but serviceable clothes. One long weed trailing from one hand, a garden fork in the other.

"Fool," he breathes.

[afoolsgold]

There is an elegant veranda just beyond the art gallery's walls, which is shaded from both sun and moonlight by a wooden trellis draped all over with blooming wisteria (or something that looks like it), and it is beneath this trellis that the Fool currently stands, leaning against the railing with his slim arms folded over his chest and his eyes turned... somewhere.

It doesn't matter, precisely, what he was looking at before. When his eyes find Fitz, the stillness that settles over him is profound; all the artifice in his expression slips away.

It cannot be.

"...Fitz?"

[tombadgerlock]

Fitz stares. It's Lord Golden, and yet not quite. There's far more of the Fool there. Elegant and beautiful, eyes shadowed.

This must be some stop on the way to the Fool's school. Perhaps Prilkop is here, somewhere. Perhaps it's not too late, perhaps Fitz can still convince him to come back to Buck after he visits his school, to come back. Perhaps he can convince him that his presence won't interrupt Fitz's life.

He scrambles to his feet, letting the weed drop, letting the fork clatter to the ground. He takes two awkward half-running steps, desperately wanting to catch the Fool up in his arms, because he looks well enough for it and because he's here, but... but he stops. Who knows who might be watching.

"I cannot believe it," he says, instead, a smile beginning to stretch his features.

[afoolsgold]

"I cannot believe it," says this smiling spectre from the Fool's near-recent past, and with that cherished face comes an onslaught of too vivid memories--of a flight across a sea on a dragon's back, of a quest to preserve the honour of the Farseer prince, of a journey through an icy cave towards certain death--of pain beyond imagining, beyond description, and the death that followed.

Of living in the liminal space between his body and Fitz's. The pain--the slow, aching pain--of healing, and the gift of life given back to him, for the love of him.

Fitz. His Catalyst, his friend, his beloved--he cannot be here.

The Fool's jaw works, but words don't come at first. He takes a hesitant step backward, rather than forward. "How...? How are you here?"

[tombadgerlock]

Fitz swallows, steeling himself at the Fool's backward step. He knows him far better, now, after having inhabited his body.

He does not know all that is written on his face, and for a moment it frightens him.

"I wish I knew."

On 24 February 2018 at 12:03, afoolsgold - DW Comment < dw_null@dreamwidth.org> wrote: