Happy Hour!

[tavar_of_alera]

Tavi had fully intended to spend his time in the Bar today writing letters home--it wasn't work, it was relaxing and invigorating, it made him happy to actually get in touch with his family, and it would save time, there were no downsides--but when he wandered up to the Bar to request his usual ale, meal, and bread with oil, a note popped up

Comments

[forgottenmotley]

"If you mix the firewine with the icewine do you get tepid wine?" the Fool asks has he sits at the bar, bells ringing lightly heard in that weird space between the ears and the mind.

He regards the man behind the bar with open curiosity and quiet innocence. The sort of innocence found in those who are unworldly and sheltered.

[forgottenmotley]

"Would you like the Fool's story or Alexander's story first?"

This will be some interesting intelligence gathering.

[tavar_of_alera]

It seems like it, and that is just making Tavi's nerves sing with anticipation.

"How about we go in that order, then? The Fool first."

[forgottenmotley]

"Ah. The Fool." He takes a sip from his drink. "The Fool is a creature made of fire cast shadows and ash. Created by the first men in living caves, afraid of the dark, afraid of the unknown. Which is practically everything back then."

His voice is husky as he talks, in a strange sing song tone of voice. His shadow flickers wrongly around him like he is a shadow himself of flames.

"The Fool is a fear. The fear of being made a fool. He was one of the later things Named by men on those dark nights. Once they had names for the fears Death and Fire and Water and the Unknown they could turn to more personal fears. Which is where the Fool came in."

[tavar_of_alera]

Tavi's expression is thoughtful as he listens. He took philosophy while at the Academy, and while they don't have Platonic theory per se, he studied more than enough to draw the obvious conclusions.

And he has enough experience with furies and how they are shaped by the minds of the crafter to immediately grasp that this is an idea incarnate and anthropomorphised.

"I see. So that was where the Fool started?"

[forgottenmotley]

"Yes. Time passed, and the idea of the Fool evolved in the minds of men. I was always a person who spoke the truth to kings and made men humble but the trappings changed. The motley. The bells. All much later additions," he says. "This is what I am now. Perhaps later I won't be. But for now, it suits me as does the body I wear."

That's very close, though perhaps mentioning such things wouldn't be wise.

"Those who act the part of fools are under my domain. Those who fear fools or fear becoming fools are mine."

He gives a smile. It's not a nice smile. It's a primal smile of those things you should be afraid of in the dark. It's the smile of why people are afraid of the dark.

[tavar_of_alera]

Tavi senses something's being left out, and there's a flash of intense curiosity in him. He wants to know (he always wants to know) but he'll work out a graceful way of asking somehow.

"So--the perceptions of the human race shaped your appearance, your aspects? Do they change who is under your domain or who is yours as well?"

He meets the Fool's eyes at that smile. Tavi's brilliantly grass-green eyes are unflinching, and he smiles, very faintly, in response. It isn't a very nice smile either. He's a good person.

But sometimes he isn't a nice one.

Tavi can be afraid of the dark--frequently of the one lurking in himself. But most of the dark is only another challenge, and those he faces without hesitation.

[forgottenmotley]

"No. I am the Fool. And there will always be fools and always be people afraid of being made fools or fearing them."

He then holds up a finger. "As for my appearance that's a different story. Fire cast shadows and ash don't hold much form, do they? I can lurk in the back of peoples minds where they try to forget me, forget their fears, but I can't interact with them like I'm doing with you now."

Tavi is not afraid of being a Fool nor is he a fool so the Fool has less influence over him than one of his fellows might.

[tavar_of_alera]

Nodding thoughtfully, Tavi leans casually against the bar top, wiping his hands.

"It must be a fascinating view of people, and of history," he comments idly (almost) as he muses over the concept.

He understands, now, why the Fool said Tavi is no longer his. He was petrified, once upon a time, of constantly being the one ridiculed. Presently he asks, "And Alexander?"

[forgottenmotley]

"It's the dark side, the forgotten side."

He takes another drink.

"Alexander. I was seventh son of a seventh son. They're lucky, you know, seventh sons of seventh sons. However," And he gives a bit of a wry smile. It's more human. "No one ever said it was good luck."

[tavar_of_alera]

I don't forget it.

But he doesn't say it out loud. It is only in a flash of something in his eyes, quickly subsumed in his normality.

And that last statement makes him outright laugh, if shortly. "No, they never do, do they?" Seventh sons--different meaning, but no, not good luck at all.

[forgottenmotley]

His eyes flash for a moment as well, turning a more golden amber at the thought.

"No. And I was lucky. I was a farmer's son in a small village. The plague hit. Everyone in my family died. From my grandparents, to my uncles and aunts to my siblings, their families their children. All of them. Died. Except me. I was untouched. I was lucky."

The amber is gone almost completely and they're more a normal golden brown.

[tavar_of_alera]

Tavi notes the amber and the brown, and his face stays thoughtful and blank.

"I've heard of those like you," he says quietly. "There were more, after the first battle I ever saw."

After all, Rufus Scipio doesn't have that story.

[forgottenmotley]

And now the Fool gives him a quick sharp eyed look, but he continues with the story.

"The other villagers thought I was cursed for some reason. Made a pact with the devil... something. So they drove me out... after breaking my leg." As he says that, he taps his leg with his cane. "It never healed right."

[tavar_of_alera]

Glancing down, Tavi nods slightly.

With a sigh, he admits, "People do that, sometimes--what they can't understand, they fear. Life and death more so than most."

Or someone so inexplicably different.

[forgottenmotley]

"They need to blame someone. And lucky me, I was a good target." He gives a bit of a smile at Tavi's mention of people fearing things.

"Broken leg, fleeing for my life I managed to get to the road and came across the Traveler. He offered me a place among the Forgotten in the Blind King's court. Having nowhere else to go, I agreed. I lived in his court for a while, still Alexander and not the Fool.

"There wasn't a Fool then. The old one died - hung when he tried to rescue the fates." He touches his neck absently as he says that. "They were waiting for a new one."