[OPEN] an adjustment period

[afoolsgold]

Characters: The Fool, FitzChivalry Farseer, Devin Parker + OPEN
Date: The first week of March.
Location: Around Aifaran.
Situation: The Fool is having a rough time.
Warnings/Rating: None currently, will update as needed.



I. CRIME 3 - INSURANCE [DEVIN]


The Fool's clever tongue has often been weapon enough to fend off sticky situations, but as the end of the previous month demonstrated to him, a barbed retort does little to repel an assailant bent on roughing him up in a back alley. He still sports the evidence of the assault on his face now; some stitches just above his eyebrow and a discoloured bruise on one of his cheekbones, to say nothing of what the fabric of his clothes conceals.

This 'insurance policy,' offered to him so candidly by a deceptively kindly neighbour, sends a shock of dread rocketing through him.

His first impulse (once he has been divested of what little money he possesses in order to pay for that 'protection' for the month) is to seek out Fitz, because in the throes of a crisis they have always sought each other out. But that very instinct that compels them to aid each other has resulted in catastrophic recklessness in the past--and, if he interrogates his concerns deeply enough, the Fool knows that he still harbours deep fear over what his close proximity to his Catalyst in Aifaran might spell for the future of Konryu. No, he decides, better to choose a cooler head, one less inclined to settle the dispute with an axe.

That is how he ends up outside Devin Parker's door. He knocks once, and waits, straightening his tunic. (It won't at all distract attention away from what has been done to his face, but there's no helping that now.)



II. THE DREAMING BRIDGE [FITZ]


He masks it well, but the Fool is not sleeping soundly. If he were to be truthful, he has not slept soundly since before Aslevjal.

The injuries he sustained at the end of the previous month were just severe enough for him to seek out the assistance of a healer (Eiji had said something about a hospital, which put the Fool very much in mind of the sick rooms where the ill and dying were housed in his own world, but the sight of his own blood was enough to force him into it). Now, in addition to a small line of stitches above one of his eyebrows and a bruise forming on one of his cheekbones, the Fool cannot sleep.

That is, perhaps, not strictly accurate. He can fall asleep. His nightmares prevent him from staying asleep.

His restless feet carry him out of his rooms and down to the cafeteria, where he fumbles with one of the machines until it manages to produce a cup of tea. This he clasps between two hands and approaches one of the windows to look out towards the lights of the rest of the city. It's raining; else he might go for a walk.



III. ARTS 3 [OPEN]


If fate has decided to do him one kindness over the past week, it is this: the approach of a cafe owner who, having glimpsed some of the Fool's carving, offered to put some of the pieces on display in her business. The money gained through selling a few of the pieces to her is enough to put his mind at ease; it more than makes up for the money taken from him by force earlier in the week.

He's seated at the cafe terrace now with a cup of tea in hand and a few other pieces on display; perhaps he'll attract the attention of someone willing to invest in more than just one of his pieces.

Comments

I

[annihilist]

Devin is doing what he often does when alone and not at work, which is reading. Work these days is also spent surrounded by books, but that suits him. He has a small stack on the floor next to his bed, and is immersing himself in Castian mythology when there's a knock at the door.

He leaves the book on his pillow as he stands. Opening the door to see who's disturbed him, Devin's expression shifts noticeably from faint annoyance to surprise and then thinly veiled concern.

"Bloody hell, Fool, what happened?" He steps back to allow the prophet entry, seeing little point in lingering on the threshold. The Fool has very clearly taken some sort of beating, and by the rate of healing it can't have been more than a few days since the assault.

[afoolsgold]

He doesn't need to be invited twice, self-conscious enough about having this conversation out in the open. He exhales, already weary, and steps quickly through the entryway, reaching up a hand to tenderly touch the proud flesh around the stitches above his brow. It will scar, doubtless.

"I was mugged," he announces flatly and, folding his slim arms across his chest, paces a turn around Devin's room. The books are noted, and under other circumstances, a more whimsical Fool might perch himself upon the edge of the bed and go nosing through the selection. His whimsy seems to have all but fled him today.

He turns back to Devin, unable to mask his worry--and fear. "Someone on the street today approached me about 'protection' money, and what else could I do but give them everything I had?" He breathes out and looks away. "I can't go to Fitz about this, El and Eda only know what he'll do." In addition to invoking the names of gods whose influence hardly extends into Konryu, he doesn't seem to realize the other detail he's let slip through; that Fitz is here.

Looking to Devin again, he hesitates, then pleads, "I need help--I don't know what to do, or who else to ask."

[annihilist]

The door clicks shut quietly, and Devin stays put while the Fool paces. He's never seen him agitated before, not like this. Being mugged and then threatened with potentially repeated muggings or else poverty would do that. At least this is the kind of help Devin knows how to provide; he's not sure how else he would try to assuage the Fool's evident fear.

His eyebrows do go up a few millimeters at the mention of Fitz. "You made the right decision; money and items can be replaced. People can't." The Sentry might be able to help, but in all likelihood it would take them too long, and the networks that drive protection rackets would just supply another peon to go after the Fool. "We'll get this figured out. It may take a little while, but I promise no more harm will come to you." Even if he has to play the Fool's shadow until the next 'insurance payment' is due.

There's a pause while he considers that other important detail. "When did Fitz arrive?"

[afoolsgold]

That reassurance has the Fool's shoulders rising and then falling in a grand exhalation, his eyes closing, as tension held taut in his shoulders for hours--perhaps days--finally leaves him. He lifts his hands up to his face and presses slim fingertips, gloved and ungloved alike, against his brows, his eyes, and then over his lips. For a time he's still, his eyes somewhere beyond Devin's shoulders. No more harm will come to you. He knows better than to believe anything more than the sincerity of the sentiment behind those words, but that the sentiment is there at all eases something in him.

It takes him a moment to register the significance of Devin's last question. Then he blinks and, rather unexpectedly, the worry seems to flood back into him. "I am not sure," he admits, resting his lips against his fingers. His eyebrows draw into a deep furrow. "Some weeks after I did, I believe. He's been working as a gardener, of all things." This disbelief makes his lips quirk into a smile, but it's a melancholy, unhappy thing.

For someone who the Fool has often described as 'his love,' 'his beloved,' he seems markedly uneasy about being in the same place as him again.

[annihilist]

Devin does not make such promises lightly, for if the Fool were attacked again successfully, he would be the one responsible. He may not use the word 'friendship' to describe their relationship, but any steps he takes are beyond simple duty to correct wrongs.

His brow pinches slightly at the progression of the Fool's reaction. After a moment in pensive silence, he observes, "That doesn't make you as happy as I thought it would."

As though to allow the subject to drop - he's curious, but he's also not sure he'll be much use in helping with Fitz-related problems other than purely listening - Devin goes to the bed and rifles through a bag, producing a small notebook. "Valdis can sketch the face of the person you saw based on a description, but for now I can take down other details."

[afoolsgold]

"That doesn't make you as happy as I thought it would."

The Fool is still a moment, his face not having lost that melancholy smile. Then he presses his lips into a line and says nothing.

Another time, perhaps.

When Devin drops the subject (much to his relief), the Fool takes a few steps after him and, at his suggestion, tries to describe the person who accosted him on the street. The details he provides are good, but could, sadly, describe any number of Kin'nal in the city, given the Fool hasn't been around long enough to quite sort out how to distinguish between them yet. It will come with time. "We were near the street market closest to the Bridge," he adds at last, as though that might give Devin some more information to go on--but who really knows.

III

[colonelnope]

So, art.

Eve still hasn't moved out of the Dreaming Bridge; art is the kind of thing you put in a place when you intend to live there for a while. When it matters to you. (This would be why her place on Earth has never had much, but the Library has.) She still appreciates it, though, and the things in the window catch her eye.

Doesn't hurt to stop and look, and possibly get some tea. Eve's inside and poking around when she spots the Fool on the terrace; a few minutes later, she's coming out to join the Fool. "These are all yours, then?"

[afoolsgold]

The Fool's home is still within the Dreaming Bridge as well, but this seems like the first of several concrete steps towards finding his footing in Aifaran. Given the bad hand that these new fates have dealt him recently, he is only too glad to seize upon good fortune when it presents itself. The cafe gives him space to work, and space to sell.

He looks up at Eve as she approaches and greets her with a smile, tipping his head slightly to one side. "I have created them, but they are still waiting to discover who they will belong to," he informs her, his tone all light whimsy. With one slim hand he gestures to a vacant seat at the table and invites, "Would you like to join me?"

[colonelnope]

Oh, good, still friendly.

Not that she'd genuinely expected that would change, but you never know. Eve sets her tea down on the table and drops into the empty chair. "Sure, thanks."

Sitting instead of hovering, it's easier to take a better look at the pieces he has on display. "To clarify," she says as she does, "you're sentimental about your art pieces, not... making secretly living carvings."

Please.

[afoolsgold]

In response to her clarification, the Fool responds with a whimsical smile. Of course he'll be coy about it--why wouldn't he be? "Perhaps you should take one home with you," he teases her, his eyes glittering, "and find out for yourself."

He collects up his own cup of tea and sips from it. "How are you settling in?"

[colonelnope]

"Really not a reassuring answer," she returns, with a smile that borders very slightly on manic. Why are so many people allergic to yes or no answers?

But she lifts a piece anyway, turning it over with gentle hands and observing the details. She's still doing this as she answers. "Well enough. It's not home, but I'll cope." She misses a lot of people.

...She'll cope. She's still not sure whether to hope for their arrival here.

[afoolsgold]

The Fool excels at being alarming.

He has a good ear and good instincts, however, and tips his head slightly to one side as he listens to Eve's reply. When he smiles this time, there's wistful sympathy in the expression. "Would it ease your mind to discuss your home?" he suggests thoughtfully.

[tombadgerlock]

II

Fitz has a small carrysack over one arm, with various small things that might ease the Fool's existence. It took him some time to finish his work with the exhibition. There was always one more task, Tom, one more, and another, and might you assist these people with this installation? The weeding is exemplary work but you must now uproot these seven small trees and place them in this square instead for no discernible reason other than that we ask it...

Well.

The point is that he has tracked the Fool by his directions and by his 'yimo', and so he goes to him. It is dark, but he is not tired. Only tired of being around those who know him not at all.

There is a symbol on the wall of this building. He knows enough to know that he can find food inside, and so he pushes the door open gently. He will purchase something to bring to the Fool.

Or he will find the Fool himself. "Fool!"

[afoolsgold]

"Fool!"

He startles, sloshes a bit of tea across one of his hands, and swears softly. It's not hot enough to burn him, more of a minor annoyance. "You might try affording me a bit of warning before you do that," he chides his friend softly, turning to send him a reproachful look, but there's fondness in his eyes, too. There will always be fondness in his eye for Fitz.

He steps lightly over to one of the counters to retrieve a disposable paper napkin to mop up the mess, then looks back to Fitz again. If his expression is slightly self-conscious, it's doubtless due to the injuries on his face that cannot be disguised: a line of stitches above his eyebrow, a fading bruise on his cheekbone. Something happened since they last saw each other, clearly.

[tombadgerlock]

"Sorry, sorry," Fitz says, and as usual it is a word that comes genuinely but all too easily to his lips. He sighs, and makes to pick up a napkin of his own to assist, but...

...no.

"Fool," he murmurs, moving closer. He touches the Fool's chin with very gentle fingers, encouraging him to stay still and be regarded for a moment, if he will allow it, so that Fitz can inspect. "What happened?"

[afoolsgold]

Fitz's approach, his touch, can't be avoided (and if the Fool is honest with himself, he doesn't want to avoid the latter... much though he knows he should). He flinches when Fitz touches his chin, anticipating a closer inspection of the wounds, and looks up at him through a loose fall of amber hair.

"It will be all right," he assures him quietly, an answer that does not actually answer Fitz's question. Gently, he lifts a hand to take hold of his friend's wrist and coax it away from his face. (Those gentle, intimate touches are too much.) "I was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. It's being taken care of."

How vague an answer can you possibly provide, Fool?

[tombadgerlock]

Fitz frowns. He knows that the Fool is far from unable to handle himself in a fight. Was he ambushed? Overwhelmed? If it had been some kind of accident, then the Fool would most like have simply told him so. (Whether or not Fitz would have thought him truthful might well have been a different matter.)

"Someone attacked you," he says mildly. "If you would tell me the reasons, then I would know if I must take action."

IV. I'm a Rebel

[redlightgreenlight]

Though not necessarily inclined to offer her skills outside of work, the fact that Devin had requested her aid meant it was important, at least to him. While city was large enough that she couldn't chase down every lead, or solve every problem as she had attempted in Keeliai, she supposed that helping in this instance wouldn't go amiss. She knocked lightly on the door of the room Devin had mentioned, not quite sure what she was going to find on the other side, though there was a soul there. Just one. Hopefully it belonged to the person she was supposed to be helping, and hopefully it wouldn't take long.

"Hello?" It seemed polite to add voice to the knock, "Devin said you needed some help?"

[afoolsgold]

The one who answers the door is indeed the Fool, his hair still a bit damp from the bath. He's in the process of braiding it into a loose plait that will fall across one shoulder when he opens the door and peers with inquisitive amber eyes to his guest. Well--that was fast.

"I do," he replies, "though I hadn't expected to hear any news so soon."

He offers the woman a smile of greeting and welcome, and gestures with a slender hand to invite her into the room. "Won't you come in?"

[redlightgreenlight]

The man who opens the door isn't exactly what she expects. He seems frail in a way, or perhaps delicate was a better word.

"I'm fairly good at what I do," Valdis replies, entering when asked and trying to not appear too judgmental, "But the information you gave Devin isn't enough to hunt down the guilty party. There are other options available, but they are a bit more...magical than simple sketches."

Not just a bit if she was being truthful, but perhaps it was best to start slow.

[afoolsgold]

A woman who is forthright and to the point--the Fool can certainly respect that. Once she's entered the room, he carefully closes the door behind her and then returns to his corner of the room, where he sits on the end of his bed and gestures across from himself at a vacant chair. "Please sit," he invites her and folds his hands in his lap. "Tell me about these other options, if you don't mind."

[redlightgreenlight]

Valdis watches him move, unsure of what exactly to make of this man. He's unusual to be sure, soft, but not weak. She shakes her head, her thoughts were less important than Devin's request.

"I'll stand if you don't mind," she replies, quickly going over the information in her head, "The most accurate option is for me to visit your soul plane. If you call up the memory of the mugging, I will be able to see your attacker clearly. More clearly than just what you can verbally describe. There's no risk to you, I've had a lot of practice over the years."

III

[highprofilerichkid]

With the frankly alarming quantities of caffeine that Tony consumes, he spends a lot of time and disposable income in the city's cafes. Klaus' magical interdimensional coffee beans only go so far.

When he sees the Fool, he greets him with a cheerful "Hey," and then adds, with his usual tact, "You look like crap. I didn't know wood-carving was so dangerous. Did the tree fight back?"

[afoolsgold]

The Fool has taken to people watching while he enjoys the warmth of the sun on his face and the teacup in his grasp, and that enjoyment doesn't appear to fade much even at Tony's approach and rather abrasive greeting.

"Oh, it did," he replies whimsically and turns both his amber eyes and what might be described as a Mona Lisa smile onto Tony, though it's hard to tell whether his expression is friendly at this stage. There's a curl at the corner of his lips. "My victory was hard won and hard fought but, as you can see--" and he gestures with a slender hand at his wares on the table, "--I fared better than my opponent." Demurely, he lifts his teacup for a sip, his eyes glittering with appraisal as he considers Tony.

[highprofilerichkid]

Tony tends to read pretty much anything other than "explicitly-stated hostility" as friendly, so if the Fool's humor is a little bit aloof, it doesn't faze Tony.

"Cool." he nods like that's a perfectly reasonable response. "That's how I got my armor, too. I beat up a particle accelerator."