Private Tales Fireworks and a White Rabbit

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
"Of course, it wouldn't be a Jon-Approved city if Magic wasn't involved, would it?" The elf quipped rather snarkily. He understood, of course; It was only natural that Jon be attracted to places of magic. For all intents and purposes, magic was Jon's very lifeblood. Varys wasn't sure he ever saw himself delving that far into the arts but...

Well, he was with the right crowd, wasn't he? He certainly had the lineage for it. There it was again, thinking of his father. He raised a hand to his chest for a moment, choking down the strange mix of emotions that came with such thoughts.

The trip went well, all things considered so far. They had yet to encounter any hinderances on their trek, and before long they pulled to the side to relax for a spell. Varys spent most of his time tinkering with the instrument he'd made earlier, as well as using his knife to whittle down the large shirt Jon let him have to something more his size.

He nods to his Master and slides out of the wagon, preparing a pit for a fire. That was at least one trick he had all but mastered. He reaches out and lets a hand trail across Hob's fur as he passes him. "Hungry? I can prepare something for you once the fire is started if you like."

Jonathan Burr
 
Hob grinned at Varys and gently caught his hand in his claws. I have a meal in mind. He purred at Varys, mischief sparking in his yellow eyes.

“Hey! Lovebirds. Let’s get some soup going.” Jon called, bringing over a beaten up iron stewpot. He settled it carefully into the coals, and added water from their supplies. A bit of bouillon cake, some hastily chopped carrots, peppercorns, and garlic, and Jon had a halfway decent soup going. “Hob? You smell anything good?” He asked.

Hob lifted his nose to the air, letting go of Varys and lifting those big ears up. Some wood pigeon. He commented.

“Looks like you’ll get practice. Throw some stones and ask them to steer into the pigeon. And be nice. Pebbles aren’t intelligent from what I hear but they’re eager to please.” Jon told Varys.

Hob headed into the tree line, and waited patiently for the elf. He couldn’t wait to grab him, shove him up against the nearest tree, and grope what he’d been waiting to touch all day.

Varys
 
Varys felt the claw wrap around his hand and turned his head to look at Hob. Clearing his throat, he brushes some hair out of his face, diverting his eyes somewhat shyly from that particular tone of voice. "Yes, well... I'm sure we can arrange that when the time comes." He supposed he knew what was on Hob's to do list tonight: Him.

He got the fire started, and backed away as Jon started work on the soup. They could indeed do with a good protein in the mix, and while he usually didn't prefer pigeon, Jon was right in that it would be excellent practice.

He nods to Jon, smirking. "It almost feels like cheating, sweet talking pebbles to hit birds. Then again, my bow is *still* broken." He tactfully reminded Jonathan of the bow he was owed.

Setting off to follow Hob, he reached down and collected any particularly small rocks he saw littering the path. The birds here no doubt brought many here to nest with, so there was quite an abundance. Gathering a decent handful, he approached Hob at the tree line.

"Didn't get enough last night, did you?"

Jonathan Burr
 
“Right, I almost forgot about that.” Jon said sheepishly. That broken bow did need a mending. Perhaps he could fix it? He was no bowyer but at least he could tinker around with bracing the wounded weapon. He watched Varys disappear into the tree line, and got up to fetch it. He could repair this with some sort of flexible steel rib couldn’t he?

Hob grabbed Varys and pinned him against a tree, grinning wickedly. His smaller arms cupped between the elf’s legs, and there was something decidedly predatory about the way he was looking at him. Do I ever get enough of you? He whispered. He was supporting Varys’ weight with his main arms, but the smaller pair were enjoying roaming up Varys’ figure.

Varys
 
This was... well this was a position he'd never found himself in before. Not only was Hob's grip far too strong for Varys to break, he was more or less being prepared for something he really wasn't prepared to deal with. He squirms a bit, attempting to hide the red that came to his face. "As... As much as I'd like to, Bunny... is this really the time? We're supposed... to be doing something right now."

He was lying to himself if he thought he wouldn't be doing the same thing to Hob were he in the form he was more acquainted with, but this situation had alarms going off in his head. Still, he couldn't do much as he was held now.

"Don't suppose you can hold it for a few more hours...?" He flexed his legs, his body shivering under Hob's efforts. It proved one thing to the pooka. Even in this form, Varys was reacting to him. At least somewhat.

Jonathan Burr
 
Hob grinned down at Varys. Come on, he’ll be awake for a while yet and I haven’t gotten to touch you all day. Besides, I feel like experimenting with this form. You feel so much smaller. He lifted Varys up powerfully, using his smaller arms to undo Varys’ trousers. Trust me, I’ve done enough women in this form to know exactly how I want you.

Jonathan stirred the soup occasionally and finally set down to work. He began transmuting the materials theyd gotten from Volta. It was slow and careful work, especially with the fire so close and him just having recovered. At the same time, Varys had sold or used up quite a bit of their small flowers. They needed much more, and some rockets. He was feeling more creative, which made the formulation of the fire flowers feel more like painting or sculpting than labor. He glanced at the trees. He hoped Varys had some luck convincing pebbles. It was a good exercise for a young speaker.

Varys
 
Varys wasn't sure where it came from, or what drew it out of him exactly. He raises a knee up to block Hob's attempts to disrobe him. There was a line that was not to be crossed, and skirting his responsibility the first time they got the chance to be alone together was not acceptable.

"Enough, Hob." Hearing him speak so sternly almost made his voice sound foreign to himself. "We promised Jonathan that our relationship wouldn't get in the way of things. We owe it to him to show a little decency. You'll get your chance at me, but not right now." His speech was indeed stern, but not angry. He understood the Pooka's frustration, to an extent.

"Now come on, if we take too long to get some meat for the soup it'll be no good. Put me down and help me, please?" He smiles, reaching out to pat Hob's head comfortingly. "You've got to relax..."

Jonathan Burr
 
Hob looked at him a moment, obviously taken aback by the sternness. He glared a bit, but softened when Varys touched his head. He supposed he was right. Jon did need them to go hunt and they couldn’t just sneak off and fuck. You’d better start talking to the rocks then. The pooka pouted a bit, and let Varys down slowly. He took a moment to calm himself, folding his arms over his chest and letting the elf do his pants back up.

If Varys listened, the pebbles in his hand chattered. About the weather, being picked up and moved...they weren’t the most eloquent things in the world, more akin to a group of small children, but the voices were there.

Varys
 
Varys smiled at Hob, grateful he hadn't taken the scolding too personally. He regained his footing and took a moment to collect himself, trying not to think about how close of a call that had just been. Varys loved Hob of course, but there needed to be some discussion held before Varys would ever consider what he'd just tried to pull on him.

He shakes the thoughts out of his mind and holds the pebbles up to his face. He heard the voices, so the hard part was already done. Now he just had to speak to them. "Hey guys, Name's Varys! Wanna help me play a game? I bet you'd all be good at it!"

Jonathan Burr
 
Who’s this?
You can hear us?
Hello!
What game?
What game are we playing?
Hello? Can he hear us?

The pebbles chattered away, enthusiastic and childlike.

Hob lifted his ears and rotated them, stock still as he listened for the birds. Varys. There. Hob was looking at a pair of wood pigeons in a cedar tree, grooming themselves. Hob was too wise to start moving and startle them, but like a pointing dog he was directing Varys with a pointed nose and alert ears.

Varys
 
He smiles at Hob, and then looks back to the pebbles. "Just a fun little contest. I'll give you a boost up into the sky, and you guys try and see who can hit a bird out of that tree! I wanna see who the strongest one of you is, just out of curiosity, you know?"

With how quickly they'd latched on to the idea, he could tell Jon's way of describing the pebbles was accurate. They were like excited school children. He carries them to a clear spot, a short distance from the tree, but not too close so as to startle them.

He raises his hand and whispers to the pebbles. "Okay, who's first?"

Jonathan Burr
 
The pebbles flew violently from Varys’ hand. Several of them missed, as pebbles had no eyes to aim, but two struck true. One slammed into the head of the wood pigeon, and the other struck it sharply in the neck. Hob hurried to grab them, and chuckled.

You’re getting the hang of this Speaking thing aren’t you? Hob chuckled, holding up the dead birds. He offered them to Varys, and patted his cheek. Now it was his turn. He spotted the next pigeon in a lower tree, and vanished in a puff of fur. He reappeared behind the bird and seized it in a hand, breaking its neck with a quick twist of the wrist.

They carried three fat birds back to Jonathan, who laid aside the latest small fire flower. “Perfect! How were the pebbles?” He asked with a grin.

Varys
 
The first few misses had Varys wondering if maybe he'd gone about this task the wrong way, but his worries proved to be unfounded. Two of the pebbles found their mark, and Hob bounded over to snatch their prize like a seasoned hunting hound. He couldn't help but laugh, taking the birds and shaking his head. "I got a lot of practice talking to things with the two loudmouths I've been traveling around with."

He lets out a low whistle as Hob jumped over to another pigeon in the blink of an eye, taking it out with merely a twist of his wrist. Hob was no slouch in the power department, and it made Varys pause to thank his luck that he was on his good side. He turns and motions for Hob to follow as they return. "Sometimes I forget that you're a creature with powers beyond what most beings can achieve. Maybe I just think you're going soft." He teases. He'd pay for that quip later, he was sure. For now though, they approached Jonathan and the fire, and Varys set the birds he carried beside Jon.

"Just like you said they'd be. Hyper, chatty, and eager to please. No sweat at all, but then you gave me some good instruction, so I think you get part of the credit." He laughs and sits beside his master. "So, tell me a bit more about this place you want to go to. You didn't get into too much detail before."

Jonathan Burr
 
Jonathan skinned and gutted the birds, laying them in the coals to roast. When they were ready hed add the meat to their meal, and they’d have a hearty dinner. He was looking forward to it; replenishing magic made him ravenous. Hob had an arm around Varys, happily resting with him. Of course those three unoccupied arms weren’t idle. Jon supposed he’d have to get used to that sight.

“You did well! I’m glad they worked for you. Stones are easy, or at least things like river stones. Rivers themselves, or big stones, or mountains, are a little harder. But hey, talk to a mountain and you’ll never be lost, yeah?” Jon chuckled. “Pedeo is in the sands, near the Abtati. Persian, the man who runs it, is a genius. He’s got the whole thing worked out; three wheels inside a large squat tin thing. Outer Wheel is for trade, Inner Wheel for culture, that’s where we’re going, and the Centre Wheel is his private estate. I want to get you educated a bit, and get you talking to all sorts. There’s a thriving mineral market there, places we can sell the flowers, and the best food.” Jon explained.

And pets. Jon’s always wanted one. Hob chuckled, playfully putting an ear on Varys’ head.

“Well not to own, they’re far too expensive. But Varys, if we convince him to let us perform at the Pet Auction there, we won’t need gold for half a year.” Jon grinned.

Varys
 
Varys let out a low whistle at that final summation of their possible profits. "Half a year? That'd be something else. In that time I could probably learn how to make money on my own to a decent extent. Without Hob letting me cheat off of him, I mean." He grins at the lounging pooka. He'd calmed down, thankfully. Raising his gaze back to Jon, he crosses a leg over the other and drapes an arm lazily over his companion.

"What I learned in Oban made me think long and hard about what I need to do as a person. Varys San' Seya... I can't claim to know what made him think that creating an effigy of himself to live inside of was okay." His fingers grip Hob's hair a smidge tighter. He was still coming to terms with the reality of what he was, but pretending he didn't know the truth wouldn't do them any good.

"I'm just Varys though. I'm just what's left of him, and I know without a shadow of a doubt that it's wrong. I can't fix that atrocity and unmake myself, but I can ensure that nothing of this nature can happen again. With your help, I can become every bit as powerful as I know I'm capable of being. I can go out into The Sand Sea and find The Prism. When I do, I'll destroy it. Nobody will ever be able to use it again. It's the least I can do to make up for my predecessor's mistake, right?"

He knew he wasn't being fair to himself in shouldering San' Seya's sins. Maybe it was because he'd come to accept that he was a remnant of San' Seya that he felt somewhat responsible for the atrocity committed.

"Until then, I want to follow you Jon. You've already taught me so much, but I know I can do more. The two of you have helped me grow in ways I didn't think possible. You showed me what it is do have a real friend." He reaches up and pats the ear on his head. "And as crazy as it is, Hob's shown me what it means to be loved. I owe the both of you so much."

He paid a thought back to the scene outside of Fal'Addas, where he'd cradled his father's notebook like a lifeline, sobbing into the leather. He'd told Jonathan he was ready that day. He'd been lying though. The one who left Falwood that day wasn't ready to live up to the task that was in front of him.

Only now, with his dear friend and master across from him, and his lover in his arms, did Varys feel as though he was truly ready.

Jonathan Burr
 
“Well not only that...but Pedeo has some of the finest libraries outside of Elbion or Volta. Little looser laws on morality too; you could learn a lot there that won’t necessarily be accepted in either of the two big academic spheres.” Jon pointed out. “Convincing Persian is the hard part. This is an auction, with people from around Arethil coming to bid. If we make him look bad we don’t leave. So, it’s a gamble.”

He smirked as he fished the cooked birds out of the fire and stripped them of their meat, adding them to the stew. He offered the carcasses to Hob, who crunched into them with gusto. Jon ladled Varys stew up for him, and prepared himself a bowl. “Look, you can’t take on all of the old man’s sins, Varys. I agree that destroying the Prism is a wise move; if someone else gets ahold of that thing and uses it to change bodies...or hell, make more homunculi like yourself, it would be bad for the whole of Arethil.” He said softly. “At the same time you can’t blame yourself. You’re meant to be here. The gods at least wanted you here. You’re not a shadow of the old man, because you’re already seeking to do something he never would.”

Hob hugged Varys close and kissed the top of his head. I love you too. He said quietly.

“I’d hoped I wasn’t losing my only apprentice so soon.” Jonathan joked playfully. “You don’t owe me anything, kid. I like your company. You’re a good Speaker. And you got me and Hob out of Volta. You saved my ass.” He grinned and drank a bit of his dinner. “I still can’t believe you’re fucking my conduit, though.”

Hob cackled and licked Varys’ hair to make it stand up in spikes.

Varys
 
Loose morals? A puff of air escaped his lips. "Yes, well despite their 'holier than thou' attitude, The University's morals are questionable too. It seems to be like a loose grip on the idea of morality is a trend in the magical world." The kind of things that wouldn't be accepted in the larger academic spheres were the things that had brought about most of the circumstances they were in now, he supposed. His creation, Hob's summoning...

He pulls his bowl to his lips, opting to sip it from the rim of the bowl. Jon was right, The danger The Prism posed far outweighed it's magical worth. He wasn't too sure about being called a 'homunculi' but he wasn't going to argue with him regardless. Despite the encouragement, he still felt the weight of responsibility sitting in the pit of his stomach. He didn't speak further on the subject though.

The large Hob curled close to him, drawing a laugh from the Elf's lips. He reaches up and runs a hand across his ears. "Please, you two would have to do something awfully drastic to get rid of me so easily."

As for Volta and saving Jonathan, he could only shrug. "I won't lie, the thoughts that ran through my mind when all that happened were purely selfish. I couldn't let that be the end of my journey, and you were both important."

Varys continued after a pause.

"That being said. I realized while I watched you two unconscious in the back of the wagon how much you both mean to me. I'm glad I learned the lesson not to take friends for granted. Also..."

He pats Hob. "I don't mean to make you uncomfortable, but if you saw what Hob was hiding you wouldn't be finding it so unbelievable." He teases.

Jonathan Burr
 
Jonathan laughed. “Well now you’re getting it. Magic isn’t black and white. It exists in all those strange little grey shades in between.” He said. “Hell, most of the world is like that. Persian, let’s say he finds the most...balanced shade he can.” He looked at his apprentice fondly. Varys had come so far in such a short amount of time. He was already becoming a well rounded young man. Except for...he winced a bit at the mention of Hob. He was so used to seeing him as, well, Hob. No matter how much Varys insisted that Hob was truly a girl, he couldn’t get the image of his apprentice being railed by a male pooka out of his head.

Well, he would try not to judge. He cleared his throat and hovered a hand over the earth. Making topographical maps was a rather fun and functional way of planning a route. It helped Jon visualize. He couldn’t make sense of squiggles on paper but seeing two inch mountain ranges somehow made it clearer. “So we’re heading toward Amol-Kalit, and we’ll have to weather the desert a bit until we hit Pedeo. We’re going to register as traders, because we are, and get guest collars. Then we make an audience with the trade baron himself, and there you go.” Jon laid out the plan.

You make it sound so easy. There are wurms in the desert, and you calling up water is always a strange experience. Hob grumbled.

“Well, maybe Varys is more talented with water. You never know.” Jon patted Varys’ knee.

Varys
 
Varys pursed his lips as he looked over the makeshift map to their destination. He had grown used to hitting a few towns in between each stop on their trip, but the path they looked to be taking next seemed especially barren. "Not much in our way besides the desert, is there? Could shape up to be pretty boring, and that's assuming everything goes well." It would be good practice for Varys' true objective, he supposed. He brings a finger to his chin and let's out a low hum.

"I just hope you do the talking to this Baron. I'm all fake smile'd out after last night. I have to admit I gained a deal of respect for how you always manage to plaster a big one on your face all the time. If I'm being totally honest..." He pauses to think "I don't know if I'm cut out to be the showman that you are, Jon. Not to imply I'm quitting, but I think maybe my calling is something else entirely."

He had something in mind, but he couldn't put it in words. The more pain he saw in the places they passed, the more he felt like there had to be something more he could do than just entertain them. They needed more than entertainment. But no, he was getting to radical in his thinking. He stands up and stretches, walking slowly back to the wagon with his hands locked behind him. "We'll be passing by Falwood again, won't we? I wonder if anybody even remembers me there. Illja, Weyrot and the other alley trash... I was cruel to them." It felt strange, to think of home. Or, what was once his home.

Turning his head as he leans against their transportation, he queries to him. "Who was Valthian?"

Jonathan Burr
 
Jonathan laughed. “This from the boy who suckered me into an alleyway for a game of cards?” He grinned at Varys. “You don’t have to do what I do, Varys. I’m not here to force you to be something you’re not. Whatever you do decide, my job as your master is to help you achieve it. But I do want you to talk to Persian a little bit. He’s a good man to know, even in passing. Less showmanship, more diplomacy.”

He finished his meal and started cleaning up, fastening the lid on their stewpot. It would make a decent breakfast. He looked up when Varys mentioned the other alley kids. “You could always go do something for them to apologize. Convince their clothing to mend itself, find them fresh water. Some coin.” Jonathan suggested. He did burn his hand a bit when Varys mentioned Valthian. He swore and sucked on one of the burned fingers, shaking his head.

“Now where the hell did you hear that name?” Jon asked. He frowned and came to sit in the back of the wagon, ignoring the perturbed look from Hob. He could sleep with Varys later. “Professor Valthian was one of my professors in Volta. My master. We both had gifts with soil and rock, but his...true calling was the sea. A great Speaker in his own right. Rumor has it he did...well...if defeating death is the apex of being a Changer, then he managed to speak with Arethil itself. Felt all the plants growing and pushing in the soil. Every mountain and stream. Just like that...never came back.” Jon explained quietly.

A lot of superstitious garbage. The old man fell asleep and died. Hob huffed.

Varys
 
Varys' gaze switched between Jon and Hob. He would normally be inclined to agree with Hob on this one, but after the things he'd experienced today, he couldn't discredit the tales Jon weaved. Humming lowly in the back of his throat, he mused. "That first mineral you had me talk to, he knew Valthian. It said he was a changer as well as a speaker, and it almost seemed to think I was cut from the same cloth. I just wanted to know what I was being held in comparison too." He sighs, and it turns into a yawn. "I guess... I should probably take it as a compliment, although I can't say the thought of eternal life as one with nature is really my sort of thing."

He looks up at the evening sun ducking stealthily behind the tree-line. Time certainly flew when he 'spoke' to things. Maybe he could kill two birds with one stone on some particularly boring stretches; studying and holding a conversation at the same time was appealing. Crossing his arms, he shifts to sit in the wagon as he faces Jon. "Magic shouldn't ever cheat death. That's a line that shouldn't be crossed." A Changer's apex... was that all San' Seya was? A Changer terrified by his own mortality? In a way, that was more sad than infuriating to Varys.

"Are we camping here for the night? It's as good a spot as any, and I don't think anybody following from town would be able to catch us at this point." The nagging threats they'd left behind caused him some worry, but he was slowly learning to look more forwards than backwards. That, and he was beginning to trust his ability to help pull them out of any unsavory situations. He almost felt reliable now...

Jonathan Burr
 
Jon frowned a bit. “Both? Hm, I wonder if you can. Could always test that theory when we get to the desert. It’s one thing to hear water calling beneath the sands. It’s another to pull it up toward you.” He pointed out, laying on his back amongst their blankets. “I agree with you though. Death is natural and comes for us all, and we shouldn’t be so frightened of it. Part of me always wanted to visit the Autumn Court, where the Fae go after death. I’ve heard it’s a beautiful place in its own way.”

He folded his arms behind his head. “Yeah, we can camp here for the night.” He smirked. “Then west to the sands we go.”

Hob glared at him. Do you have to sleep here? He asked, grumbling.

“I want to try something.” Jon grinned and put a pillow behind his head. “Getting a good nights rest without dreaming of my apprentice calling me a good little bunny.”

Varys
 
Varys' face reddened, but he didn't miss a beat this time. "Well now, that just sounds like jealousy." He smirks a bit and slides off of the wagon. Even if there wasn't any extracurricular activity to be held tonight, he still thought it right to wait a moment. "I'm going to wait for Hob to change, if that's alright." Before Jon could possibly object, Varys adds, "I'll be on my best behavior. I just... want to spend a moment with her." It was mildly embarrassing to say that out loud, but he wasn't a good liar, they'd all learned.

He let Jon rest, cleaning the cookware he'd used for their meal and setting it aside in preparation for dawn's breakfast. The fire was still dimly glowing, but Varys kicked a bit of dirt onto it when his work was finished. He could only imagine the overwhelming sensation that would come with talking to dirt, something so numerous and all encompassing... it was something Varys was saving until he was much more confident.

Untying his hair and sliding off his jacket, he allows another yawn to escape his mouth as he head back to where he'd left Jon and Hob. He wanted to at least show Hob a bit of affection before he slept, and that was decidedly easier when she was his size.

"Hob, you in my size yet?" He called with a snicker.

Jonathan Burr
 
Jon softened as he looked at Varys. “You really are in love with her...aren’t you?” He asked quietly. He felt a bit bad about cockblocking him, but he also wanted dreamless sleep for once. The connection between the three of them was getting tangled and Hob was at the center. Was the pooka falling for him too? Jon had just assumed it was a sexual outlet, maybe some affection. It seemed to be something far more serious for all three of them.

He let the elf go and clean, curling up properly to sleep. Well, honor system and all that. He hoped they would let him rest without weird dreams about Varys gripping his hair. Jon sighed and ran a hand over his face. They needed to work this out magically, or he’d be having strange wet dreams about his apprentice for the foreseeable future.

Hob was upset with him, but not enough to pout. He organized their fire flowers and wrapped a few in their brightly colored papers. At least until Jon fell asleep and she fit in the wagon better. She perked up, and ran to her elf when he called. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him, her long ears up.

“Of course I am, he’s asleep.” She giggled.

Varys
 
He felt almost guilty as he held his lover. He had promised her she could do as she pleased with him at nightfall, but he had also told Jonathan he could have a peaceful night. Varys couldn't deny that Jon deserved it after the week he'd had. He returns the kiss, his lips lingering against Hob's as their corners curl into a smile. His voice leaks softly from between them as he all but coo's down at her. "Finally some privacy. You're a hard woman to get alone, you know that?" He teases her, his arms wrapping around her, hands resting unashamedly on the swells of her rear.

"Jon makes a point, you know. If we're going to keep this up, we should probably look into a way of keeping our business from leaking into him. I don't envy the kind of dreams he's having, to be honest with you." His laugh is broken by another kiss. Jon was right; Varys was quite enamored with Hob, and he'd meant every word he'd said to her. Tilting his head, he eyes her up with a quirked brow. "Now that I think of that, if you really had pushed me into less than saintly activity against that tree, Jonathan would probably have been able to tell. Now that your bond is starting to link to me too, who knows what would happen?

There were... a lot of what if's about that bond. If it fully connected to Varys, what did that mean for the three of them? Would Hob's shape change to Varys' will as well as Jon's? Would Hob be able to handle acting as a conduit for two people at once? He sighs, and nods to the wagon. "I'm going to sit in the front, you can occupy my lap if you like." He added as if he didn't know damn well she would.

Jonathan Burr
 
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