[Thread] A little patch of spring

[takion]

Characters: Takion, Open
Where: Park
When: Middle of the day
Summary: Takion gets tired of the snow.
Warnings: Shouldn't be any.

Comments

[ned_piemaker]

The Piemaker would not have believed it if he had not seen it. Amidst all the snow was a circle of light and vivid spring colors. He felt drawn towards it, though he wasn't sure what could have caused it. Surely some kind of magic, and he would be better off if he didn't get mixed up with it, but he couldn't resist. When he was closer he saw that a man was sitting in the midst of the little anomaly, drinking tea.

"Hello?" he called, stepping closer, hands clasped behind his back, "Did you do this?"

[ned_piemaker]

Ned could not help it. He sighed curtly, a look of sheer envy with the barest, most unintentional hint of disdain on his face. Could this man really think his ability was so serious? He had created a bird and his cat had eaten it - how awful for him. Ned could hardly imagine. Not like Ned. Ned had only accidentally killed his mother. Surely that couldn't compare.

"I don't know. It seems to me like you've got it made. If you wanted to, you could just not write anything."

[takion]

Takion shuddered at the mere suggestion. He'd dealt with writer's block for long enough to know that he couldn't bear having his creativity stifled. "I think that only upon my death will I lose interest in creating stories, dear boy. And depending on what awaits in the afterlife, perhaps not even then."

[ned_piemaker]

Ned's eyebrows went up at being addressed as 'dear boy', but he wrote it off as an eccentricity. He acknowledged that, perhaps, Takion had a point. He had known enough writers in his day to know how crazy they could get about their work.

And it wasn't as though it was always so easy, repressing an ability. One would think he could get along just fine not touching dead things, but dead things seemed to always contrive a way to touch him.

To stall for time, the Piemaker drank his tea.

[takion]

The questions seemed to stop for a bit while Ned drank. Takion didn't mind, for it gave him opportunity to ponder what stories Ned might be hiding. He didn't have enough information, however, to even make even the smallest guess. Perhaps it was his turn to pry a bit. "Would you find it too intrusive if I asked what it was that made the Consulo focus in on you?"

[ned_piemaker]

The Piemaker choked on his sip of tea, coughing and patting his chest, rather red in the face. Stealth had never been his strong point, but he was really going to have to start anticipating that question and reacting to it in a way that was even vaguely convincing. It had never been that much of an issue in his world, lying about his ability to touch dead things back to life. No one had really asked.

"I can only assume my baking skills," he answered when he'd caught his breath. His eye twitched a little, betraying the lie.

[takion]

Takion watched Ned's reactions with a frown. Anyone could see the young man was lying. "If you do not wish to say, all you have to do is tell me that yes it would be far too nosy, and that I should mind my own business. I promise that I would not take offense."

[ned_piemaker]

It was a step forward for Ned to even admit he was lying - proof that being in this place even for a few weeks had changed him. He knew that Takion was different, and would not He nodded, looking apologetic and coughing once or twice more to clear his throat entirely. "That, too."