Fable - Ask Knowing Which Way to Woe

[Fennec]

Dreadlord Academy Grounds
Black Forest
Old Watchtower Ruins

She'd chosen the later afternoon to make her way to the tower. With her latest piece of the lake finished and gone, time had come to stake her claim on a new landscape and object of attention for the next few foreseeable months. Likely to be her last piece undertaken before graduation, Fennec felt it right to give herself something of a new challenge. Thus far her subjects of study had been organic in nature. Scenery, hillsides, the lake, trees. Now she would work to define the shapes and characteristics of a tower long since past its prime.

Gauche on an empty canvas. She'd blotted in the basic shapes and colors to later be refined with detail, shadows, highlights, and texture.

 

[Orchid]

That smell, it was back and it was back but not where Orchid had expected it to be.
The ruins he had no such claim on the Black Forest as he did the Lake but still he had come to appreciate the forgotten places of the world around the Academy.
And the smell brought along the wind like a whisper, make up, the painter was here.
Excitement boiled under his skin as he dropped down from the tree and swallowed the last of the speckled bird eggs he was eating whole.
The ground was soft and matted with rotting leaves and timber under his bare feet. Walks were always better when he was not wearing shoes.
Hands in his pockets he proceeded to make his way towards the source of the smell.

Presently, there she was.
Standing, painting, as she does.
He wondered if that was all she did, except wear black.
Slowly he came up on her, from the side, knowing how skittish she was prone to be.
"Hello again."
He half expected her to lash out at him like an alley cat.

Fennec

 

[Fennec]

Interrupting a perfectly peaceful setting with violence was not conducive to maintaining her muse. Fennec bristled at the approach, bothering not to look over, contemplating the manner in which she would allow the recurrent intruder to break her solitude. In the end she decided it would require less effort to simply allow him to do whatever it is he came to do and leave, than to chase him off and recapture her muse once again.

Brush raised, it paused to hover before the canvas as she briefly side-eyed him. She'd learned that he was a newer arrival among the Initiates called Orchid, but very little beyond that. Not that she'd tried particularly hard - the current class of Initiates had grown soft and their gossip loud. Certainly if he was the sort to sit and listen, he'd have learned enough about her to no longer need to ask of her name.

Brush met canvas as she turned her attention back to the tower. Maybe if she didn't engage he'd get bored and just leave.

 

[Orchid]

Orchid sat, collapsing into a lotus position like a folded chair and watched the Painter.
Wondering.
"I have a problem and I know you simply don't care but I'm telling you anyway, kill me."
He leaned back onto his hands, his legs still crossed.
"You see, when I show people your painting of the lake I often get asked who the artist was and, well, I confess that I don't actually know your name."
Somewhere close blood was shed, small amounts, a fox caught a mouse or shrew. The smell mixed with the scent of her facepaint, it was a pleasing aroma.
"You don't have to tell me. I could find out from one of the eh... others..." He let disdain hang on his tongue. Much of the Academy was full of weaklings or fools as far as he was concerned. Not that he'd let them know, he needed them that way to know who to cull when the time came but that was the long plan. For now, they were a nuisance.
"... but I like to be direct with people when I can. So I'll ask you only once. May I know your name Painter?"

 

[Fennec]

Apparently he wasn't one to listen to gossip.

Or perhaps the other initiates had finally realized that talking about her was an ill omen for misfortune. She painted while he continued, listening far more keenly than her actions led on. He was well spoken at the very least. Not quite on the level of propriety of some like Kristen or the late Caeso, but a bit more clear and to the point than most.

Fennec turned from her painting to the canvas bag at her feet, and withdrew a drawing pad of hand-cut parchment. Some preliminary sketches of the lake, the tower, and various other locations around the academy could be glimpsed as she rifled through to a blank sheet. With fresh paint on her brush, she cleanly wrote out an answer for him and passed the pad to one of her serpentine myste tendrils. The Initiate returned to painting as the myste snaked around to her side and held the pad aloft for him to see.

F E N N E C

 

[Orchid]

In the dark of the night it might have been difficult for one to read but an adjustment of the eyes fixed that well enough.
Perhaps more so than Fennec's name was the display of her abilities or at least part of them. The smoking tendril shape the she willed into existence was fascinating.
It was so unique.
"Thank you Fennec. My name is Orchid."
Lazily he shoved his legs out into a stretch and crossed them at the ankles.
"It's nice to get to know you."
The damp of the grass was sleeping into his clothes but he decided he didn't mind.

Fennec

 

[Fennec]

When his legs stretched out, a frown stretched over the skull-painted markings of her face. He was getting comfortable which meant he was staying.

Oh no.

This was not at all going to plan. She pondered cleaning up and leaving, but the last time she'd done so he'd followed. Maybe, just maybe, this conversation was over. He'd come to ask after her name and he had it. Perhaps once his knickers had gone soggy he'd find someone else to loom over.

She responded with further silence, brow furrowing as she redirected her immediate focus to the task at hand: painting.

 

[Orchid]

So she can't or just won't talk.
Won't was more interesting. The stubborn decision to not engage was such a lovely notion to him. Indomitable will against the stupidity of the world.
He was quiet for a while, watching her work.
The delicate dabs and strong strokes. He found himself wondering if she saw the world like others do. Was her vision paint on canvas. Was he just a small blue smear in her sight.
The thought amused him.
Orchid was finding Fennec a remarkable source of interest.
Despite her silence and her stillness and her bleakness he found great life in her presence.
"Sting, sting, little spider..."
Orchid sang the old lullaby to the night.
"Sting me till I swell.
let all your babies grow in me
I'll keep them safe I swear."
He did not look at Fennec as he sang, he looked at the tower and the dark trees and the stars in the sky.
"I will not fight you in your web,
Your hanging home your sticking bed.
I'll lay my head on you instead,
rock too and fro until I'm dead."

Fennec

 

[Fennec]

Can't and wouldn't.

Silence gave way to peace and while his presence was not and would never be preferred to solitude, she found she was not quite so discontented by it when it was quiet. That all shattered upon the first utterance of his little song - so intrusive to her mind was he that her paint brush slipped across the canvas, leaving behind a long and most unsuitable dark line of paint.

Fennec's eyes narrowed and blackened lips drew a flat line across the lower portion of her expression.

This time it had not made anything better. So while Orchid spoke of laying with a spider, her own tendrils of mystes snaked out from her back, quickly gathering the necessary tools to fix the present situation of her painting. Like all too many hands, a spider in her own way, she quickly and delicately tended to the mishap with clean water, brush, and linen cloth to erase the errant stroke as best as she could manage. In the end it left behind traces like textured shadows that refused to budge.

Well, she supposed, she'd blocked out enough of the shape for now. Shadows and texture had to happen eventually.

 

[Orchid]

"Hmm?"
Something had irritated her. The sight of Fennec's phantasmal limbs flurry about was fascinating to watch. Each one moved with precision and swiftness.
Orchid counted four but such was their speed there could have been more.
He wasn't foolish. Fennec did not appreciate him being there but surely she wouldn't begrudge him entertaining himself. After all that's what she was doing.
"You, are oddly sensitive. Has anyone ever told you that?"
Sitting on the grass as he was he realised he was not in any position to defend himself. Well, not conventionally. Still he was willing to risk her ire if it meant she'd grow a thicker layer.

Fennec

 

[Fennec]

One of the mystes promptly threw an unused paintbrush at him, aiming at his head. A display of irritation rather than outright threat. Fennec glanced after it with mild alarm at the act. Apparently her mystes at times had their own minds...or at the very least acted independently on emotions or desires she herself would not or did not.

No one had ever told her she was sensitive because barely anyone ever spoke to her or spent enough time around her to form such an opinion. She liked it that way. Liked being left alone. Preferred silence. He was impinging. Ruining it.

Fennec put her present paintbrush in the waterglass to free her hands and twisted to face the other Initiate.

[If you insist on intruding upon my solitude, please do so silently.] Her hands cut the message with sharp gestures through the air.

 

[Orchid]

"Wow!"
The flung brush hit his temple and bounced onto the grass.
This was getting interesting. She hadn't even looked at him to throw it.
Now she was cutting words into the air.
Orchid's face was beaming with fascination as he watched and read her words.
So she couldn't talk.
More was the pity really, since he was fond of certain noises.
Now he was faced with her demand.
He didn't like demands but she didn't like his presence.
"Fine."
Orchid stood up again and made no attempt to wipe any of the crud on his hands off but picked up the discarded paintbrush.
"I will leave you be as you paint, not because I wish to but because you ask me to."
Slowly he made his way towards her, holding it out to her.
"And I give you my word that I'll never interrupt your painting again but..."
Orchid used the brush to gesture as he made his offer.
"... in exchange I'd like you to keep me company for one evening and one only."
Again he offered the brush, fully this time.
"Is this agreeable?"

Fennec

 

[Fennec]

The closer he drew the more dangerously Fennec's eyes narrowed. The suspicion was not to be missed, nor the ire of his continued intrusions within her space. How long would she have to suffer this nuisance? Need she give up her hobby entirely and have to explain to Harkenov why she was no longer maintaining her practice?

Pursuing art had, after all, been the Proctor's advice to maintain a tether to reality that was unique to her core self. An artist's style is wholly unique to themselves, like a thumbprint or a signature. One could attempt to mimick or copy, but there would always be a tell between the true thing and the imposter.

"And I give you my word that I'll never interrupt your painting again but..."

BUT. Fennec's lip curled. She did not like where this was going. Living life with a disclaimer was not an option she would willingly pick.

Her eyes never left his, not even to look at the paintbrush he held out.

"... in exchange I'd like you to keep me company for one evening and one only."

No, it was not agreeable. Nothing about spending time with another was anything close to agreeable, but Fennec valued the future of her solitude and peace far more than she disliked the idea of suffering through one night of company. The wonder of why he would even want to spend time with her did not even pass her thoughts - which were of a single self-focused track: the desire for his eminent departure.

Fennec weighed this decision for only a moment before reaching a small, gloved hand forward to reclaim the errant brush. She offered him a single nod of assent, though she did not look pleased to do so.

 

[Orchid]

Orchid smiled.
"I know that was difficult. Believe me I barely like others either but for some reason I like you."
He took a deliberate step back from her, aware of how extra annoyed she was at him but he laughed, the whole notion was preposterous.
"I'm as puzzled as you I assure you. You're terse and unpleasant yet here I am, loath to part. So let us say that in three days I'll call on you at sundown. We shall go hunting and perhaps I'll find an answer to the why of it. Either way I'll honour my word and at midnight I'll leave you alone."
With his arms out he began to walk away backwards, Fennec was just mad enough to try something. He'd seek out that death he'd heard earlier. Perhaps there was something new there to see.

Fennec

 

[Fennec]

Hunting? What an odd choice for something to do with company.

Fennec's dark gaze followed him as he retreated from her presence until he was beyond easy sight. When he departed from the immediate clearing of the tower, she returned to her painting. The evening dwindled on in blessed peace and quiet.

Three days later she found herself preparing for her next mission in her room. There never much of anything to pack - like most of the Initiates, Fennec had little to call her own and traveled light. But there were some things necessary to make the transition from Academy to the bright wide world beyond that mustn't be left behind. The knock that came at her door was unexpected.

She closed the bag she'd been packing and turned to answer the door, quite prepared to put off whoever it was on the other side.

 

[Orchid]

Orchid had barely sat still all day.
So when he stood outside Fennec's room rapping at the door he almost felt like tearing it off its hinges but he was patient so far. He could wait a little longer.
The door opened and there she was, dressed entirely in black, face paint, little bone bits of armour. The worst things to go hunting in.
He wasn't dressed any better really in his ruffled shirt and loose slacks, stained already with nights of out door travel and thick boots. His long highway coat was hanging from his shoulder. A cavalry sabre sheathed at his side.
"Hello Fennec. You're looking furious as usual."

Fennec

 

[Fennec]

Furious confusion met him at first. What in the bleak depths of the Black Lake was he doing here? Her eyes narrowed as she prepared to slam the door in his face before they widened again in recollection.

Oh.

No.

Fennec hadn't forgotten the deal they'd made in the forest as such, rather she'd been quite focused on her upcoming task and meant to make her departure before he'd had a chance to come calling.

Fuck.

Distracted. She'd been distracted by the impending mission. So much to do and remember and get right. This silly outing was so far from present priorities it had barely merited a second thought. Yet here he was, and all she could think about was his hideous beaming face interrupting every future plein-air session to come. Her lip curled in grave disdain. She'd sooner sacrifice another finger to Salak then go hunting in his company but he had promised to leave her be thereafter.

Fennec stole a deep breath, leveled a seething gaze upward at him and lifted her hands to sign her response.

[What are we hunting.]

 

[Orchid]

"Stag."
He said with noticeable enthusiasm.
"There's been sightings in the Black Forest and I hoped we could split the spoils. I imagine you'll be wanting the bones?"
He pointed at her everything as he spoke. Then his eyes fluttered to nothing outside her door.
"We haven't much time so if you are ready we should go now. Hunt ends at midnight."

Fennec

 

[Fennec]

Stag. How mundane, but at least it would be a quick hunt. She could hardly figure it needing to go through to midnight. Her eyes followed the gesture of his hands down to her vestments, then lifted once more to settle on his unblinkingly.

[I do not use animal bones.]

She did not elaborate before turning back into her room to pull on her black cloak then take up her bow and quiver from their hooks on the wall by the door. Her small figure slid by him, door closing at her back as she pulled the bow to hook it across her chest.

Black Forest. Right. Didn't need him to lead the way, so off she went.

 

[Orchid]

Orchid rolled his eyes.
"Of course you don't. How silly of me."
Stepping after her languidly he kept pace with her. Happy to to watch the bones sway on her frock.
"So you shoot as well. You are just full of talents aren't you. I must say I appreciate a companion who is capable at the drop of a hat. I favor the up close and personal approach myself but I'm getting ahead of things."
Plenty of time to show off later. For now he just wanted to enjoy the company. She was so distant and cold and eager to see him gone. It was most refreshing.
They made their way downstairs and towards the exit that lead to the Black Forest.
"Hey if there's time, I heard that there's still unclaimed remains from last year's graduation. Fancy a spot of shallow grave robbing?"

Fennec

 

[Fennec]

Grave robbing? That wasn't what she agreed to and, frankly, what sort of low-life did he take her for? Fennec stopped abruptly, affected a look of ominous insult, and cut a very astute [NO] in response with her hands. Off she went, through the doors and down the steps to the walkway that cut a path across the Academy grounds. His longer legs had no issue keeping up with her short, clipped strides and she wondered for the first time tonight (but probably not the last) if he intended to keep talking at her.

There were reasons why the other Initiates did not engage with her and beyond the most immediately obvious threat of life and her long list of Initiate kills, Fennec gave them no quarter or reason to want to have anything to do with her.

So what the fuck was his problem?

 

[Orchid]

"You wear bits of dead people Fennec, it's a bit late to get all prudish about digging up bodies."
Orchid spoke with a jovial tone. The idea that she'd dress like a corpse, in corpse bits but ball at digging the bits up was humorous to him in a way he didn't expect.
"But suit yourself. Probably little of interest there anyways. The forest makes quick work of the dead."
Not as quick as him but still, pretty quick. Maybe that was why she liked the out doors. It was as ruthless as she was. That was a pleasing thought to him.


Fennec

 

[Fennec]

And therein lay the difference.

[I do not take these bones from graves.] she replied to him, though she did not bother looking at him and if he missed the hand signs that was entirely not her fault. Fennec's bits came from her victims. People who never had a chance at seeing a grave. It formed her armor, molded to her figure through careful application of her dark magic. The discerning eye might have noted that Fennec never wore metal armor at all.

As a matter of fact, very little of her personal affects were metal. Those she maintained were made of silver or titanium.

Their steps carried them swiftly across the grounds under the light of the moon. As they neared the forest, Fennec drew her cloak more firmly around her, and lifted the inner corner to wipe the chalky white from her face. It would reveal glimpses of the pebbled, scarred skin beneath and smear the black from around her eyes. She did not hide this from him, nor even pull her hood to conceal it, but carried on into the forest as though she'd merely taken off her sunglasses because it was too dark to continue wearing them.

Time to find a stag. The sooner, the better.

 

[Orchid]

"Yes yes, no doubt they are trophies from your own kills. Memorable kills was it or just the ones you found that fit about your frame?"
It was a very tight frame.
"Oh, the makeup comes off."
Orchid hopped ahead slightly to get a look at Fennec's real face.
"I knew it, just as good as the skull face. You never cease to impress do you?"
He was genuinely pleased. Her makeup hiding such obvious blemishes, it looked like poison scarring of some sort.
Was all of her so marked. He hoped so.

Fennec

 

[Fennec]

Yes, he did apparently mean to continue talking at her. At this rate they'd never find a stag because his yammering would give them away well before they'd ever see one.

She did not stop walking, but pressed on as he bobbed ahead to gape and oogle at what pieces of her face could now be seen. He wouldn't be the first, but he was one of the few to even catch a glimpse. Fennec was not bashful about her scars or concerned about her appearance - these were not what drove her to paint her face as she did.

Her brow furrowed at his words. Strange words from a stranger Initiate. Truly he was giving her a run for her money in the category of weirdness, and she wasn't the one that had started a weird little social club for all the weird outcasts.

[You are not taking this hunt seriously.]