[ Action | Open ] burying the voices of my conscience hitting ground

[black_black_heart]

Who: Tannusen and OPEN!
Where: Just some random park in Genessia City with a lot of NPC foot traffic.
What: Tannusen's out in public, during normal waking hours.
When: Daytime!
Warnings: Nah. Will update if it becomes necessary.

Tannusen had found a pretty ideal bench on which to set himself up for the day. He sat at one end of it, a backpack sitting on the ground by his foot. One leg was folded over the other, a lined legal notepad of yellow paper balanced on his lap.

The pooka glanced up at people over his glasses as they went by, sometimes seeming to study them and sometimes disregarding what he saw with no apparent rhyme or reason. The mechanical pencil in his gloved hand moved with few pauses, sometimes scratching a word or five and sometimes... drawing? Was he drawing?

Okay, one... why would he do that? Two, on lined paper? And three... no, really, what was he up to?

Comments

[kingslight]

It's not often these days that Regis steps foot out of Fayren, especially ever since Noctis arrived to Genessia. When he's not spending time with his son, he's working on lessons for his class. Never in his life did the former King of Lucis imagine himself ever as a 'Magic Instructor' and a honorary Arcane Knight at that. Regis forged a whole new life here in Genessia and occasionally he has to pinch himself to ensure he's not dreaming.

Do the dead even dream? He doubts it. Maybe if he was truly dead, he wouldn't be able to dream of something so fanciful. His near picture perfect life here in Genessia is testimony of his unexplained resurrection. Maybe the Six orchestrated all this, certainly seems like it.

He's idly walking along the sidewalk, cane at hand, when he spots a curious figure upon a nearby bench. Regis out on errands today but he gave into his wanderlust and ended up here in Genessia City. His bad knee still gives him trouble, along with some of the wounds he endured during his duel with Zoro but Regis is still up and about. Granted he's a tad sore but at least he's alive and well.

[black_black_heart]

Well, this guy's more interesting looking than most who've passed by his chosen bench so far. Tannusen glances up over his glasses, and then studies the human for a moment, pencil digging away at his paper. Is this human real? He might be. Most of the constructs of the world look a little... rubbery to the Fae's always-chimerical vision. A little too factory-fresh, even when they're a lot more bedraggled. It's hard to put his finger on all the differences, especially since he still can't tell for a certainty without seeing a necklace.

Still, that definitely makes Regis one of the people Tannusen peers at for longer than not... rather than one he disregards with a glance. He even offers the guy a nod in greeting when his sidewalk trajectory brings him nearer.

[kingslight]

'Is he sketching me?' Regis assumes so from how the artist keeps eyeing him. He blinks his eyes several times in surprise. The king didn't expected to become a centerpiece in a mock character study but he's flattered nonetheless. Unlike most of the pedestrians here, Regis does acknowledge he might be the most interesting person wandering down these streets. Everyone else does look a tad bland for the most part in the usual urban chic. However, Regis is clad in a handsome black pinstriped suit with a matching long cloak that has hints of purple in the inside of it. He's the perfect blend between medieval and modern.

Regis takes that slight nod as a welcome. He walks leisurely over towards the bench with a faint grin upon his face. "Pardon me for being quite nosy but what are you sketching?" The king asks as he subtly tries to peek at the artist's work. He's curious, very curious.

[black_black_heart]

Tannusen is less sketching people and more sketching their movement. He's awful at that, he's realized, since the one and only proper drawing he tried to do today is so stiff and lifeless. That particular page is now safely hidden several pages back, folded up and over the spine of the notepad along with the rest.

He's not really an artist. The Fae knows anatomy well enough, sure, and he has an eye for detail that means he'd be pretty good at technical drawing. But, actual art? Not so much. Not without a whole lot more practice than he's had. And Tannusen's not certain he'll sink that much time into this... whim.

"Nothing of much note, I'm afraid," this page is harmless enough, so Tannu turns the notepad in his gloved hands for the stranger to look at. Little better than blocky stick figures, all in motion. And a lot of cramped, angular handwriting that makes little sense without context. Song lyrics? A list of creative hobbies. Colors? Guitar chords? All of the above.

They're an amusing study in contrasts, actually, with Tannusen in one of his own usual suits. White with black pinstripes, as a subtle nod to his other form. Charcoal grey waistcoat, crisp white dress shirt. Black leather gloves, and polished black... combat boots. Most people don't notice that last bit, since they're in good shape.

[kingslight]

For someone who lacks artistic talent even on a good day, Regis is impressed but it takes him a moment to figure out what he's staring at. He expected to see more of a portrait than a gesture but Regis doesn't really understand art too well. Music he understands but actual art? He's a tad clueless about but he appreciates it nonetheless. Though, he's admittedly more interested on the notes there.

"You're an artist and a musician?" The old man questions once he sees the guitar chords. Back in his heydays, Regis used to be something of a musician but then dedicated himself to the war with Niflheim once it gained fever pitch.

"I was never quite so artistically incline since my talents lied on the battlefield." He's not lying about that. Regis was a rather fierce combatant in his youth. "But used to be fairly decent with the guitar." Regis leans a little against his cane once his bad knee starts nagging at him. The gold leg brace is probably the only thing that clashes with the black of his attire. The two of them are two different sides of the same coin fashion wise. It's oddly humorous and Regis does acknowledge it with a slight smirk.

[black_black_heart]

"A passable musician, good enough to busk the streets and sometimes win a small, semi-steady gig at a coffee shop in a larger town. Guitar, mostly, and some singing. I've dabbled in flute. They take so little space, even in a proper case, compared to the guitar." It's not hard to imagine him being drawn to music, with his voice as it is. There's a purring quality there, always there, that's pleasant to most ears.

Tannusen notices the cane-lean, of course, and the brace. He gestures at the rest of the bench he's seated off to one side of. An invitation to take a load off.

"Artist, I'd hesitate to use that one," he flips the notepad closed, pages of similar doodles and notes fluttering past as he does so. One page is just a single large sketch of one person, not great quality but not terrible, barely glimpsed. It's mostly noteworthy for how much of the page had been scribbled black.

"I thought I'd see what needed to be done to improve on 'art'. How much did you play guitar?"

[hugs_for_nugs]

Cole's hat preceded him, sticking out way farther than his face as he leaned forward from the back of the bench. He tilted his head to better read was on the paper and blinked slowly. It was easier to read what Tannusen was thinking than what he was writing down. A specific line caught his interest and he pointed down at it.

"She doesn't like that."

[black_black_heart]

Tannusen hurriedly flipped the notepad closed, pages of similar doodles and notes fluttering past as he did so. One page was just a single sketch of one person, not great quality but not terrible, barely glimpsed. Mostly noteworthy for how much of the page had been scribbled black.

"Excuse me?" The tiger turned his head just enough to eye Cole out of the corner of his vision. Oddly enough, he barely seemed to notice the hat. He was used to people wearing a lot stranger things, and to his eye it wasn't ragged or dirty looking at all. All of the emotions and care Cole put into his favorite thing was manifested on the chimerical side.

Probably stronger than many non-Fae managed, considering the guy's nature.

But Tannusen didn't know a damn thing about Cole, so he just watched him, wary under a coolly-polite mask.

[hugs_for_nugs]

"I'm not going to hurt you," Cole said to that coolly-polite mask. There was no fooling the spirit, as long as one was someone he could read. Tannusen had none of that protection that Ted had!

"I said she doesn't like what you wrote. You should write something else." He hadn't moved away from Tannusen yet.

[black_black_heart]

"Well, if her kids were less terrified of her, I'd write nicer things," Tannusen continued to eye the guy side-long. "And are you going to stay behind me, ever-so harmless stranger?"

[hugs_for_nugs]

"They're afraid, but not of her," Cole countered. Tannusen did have a point though, he should act somewhat human and sit like a normal person. Like a totally normal person, he clambered over the back of the bench and sat next to Tannusen, cross-legged. He didn't bother to watch Tannusen now, floppy hat blocking the fae from his view.

"I like that picture you didn't want me to see. His hair wasn't long enough though..." Cole mused over the images of Cassian in Tannusen's mind, the priest looked both very ill and very beautiful.

[black_black_heart]

Okay, first of all, what?

Second of all, "...If you knew I didn't want you to see it, why are you talking about it?"

Just for good measure, Tannusen turned the closed notepad over, so all that faced up was blank, brown cardboard. Just in case this guy had super amazing vision, or something.

[hugs_for_nugs]

No excellent eyesight, sorry to say. Cole only saw a glimpse of the drawing in person, far more in Tannusen's mind. Spirits were so fun like that.

"I like it." Simple, as far as Cole is concerned. "Fast, fading, fear, you're doing this to stay like you are. Why do you look at real people for that?"

[black_black_heart]

Yes, but Tannusen didn't know what Cole was, just yet. He was obviously a something, but what? The tiger folded his gloved hands on top of the notepad, since it was still on his leg, and stared over at the not-human who looked... human. He wasn't a Faerie. Or if he was, he wasn't from Tannusen's world. Tannu would have known what the stranger was at a glance, if so.

And it took him a moment, but he sussed out what the guy was asking. He didn't know how he knew what Tannusen was doing, but...

"A whim. I'm not good enough at this art to use it for what I need, but I decided to see how annoying it would be to improve. For next time, perhaps."

It would take far too long to improve enough to save him this time.

Having answered one of the stranger's questions, he posed his own. "What are you?"

[02crusnikabel]

The Genessia City public park is usually one of the place where Abel, the tall silvered haired priest goes out for his morning or evening job, depending whenever he feels like it. He was passing by, when he noticed him, sitting at one of the benches working on writing in his notepad.

Giving him a wave, "Hello, Mr. Tannusen. Feeling better, I see?" Last time he saw him, the pooka looked like he got hit by a truck, and Abel escorted him back home from the hospital. "What you're up to?"

[black_black_heart]

Tannusen nodded back at Abel, looking up from the page while he crossed something off on a list scrunched into the corner. "Hello, priest Abel. I am, yes," no longer fresh from death, or expecting a quick execution within the week. And he was still on speaking terms with people! How unexpectedly novel.

He still wasn't sure what he thought of it all.

"I'm trying to figure out what I can do for an... important Fae matter, this year."

Vague, but he didn't know how else to put it that wouldn't require a lot of background on how his kind worked. Which was fine, most of it wasn't a secret, on this world. But it was still a lot of information, and he tended to not ramble about such things at everyone he met. If only to spare them the details.

[02crusnikabel]

"Please, it's just Abel. The priest bit is just a title." He said, chuckling in good humor in spite of himself.

"Oh, is that so?" Well, Abel doesn't want to pry. After all, he's just a jogger saying hello and he's not much of help concerning supernatural. "Is it an event?" He asked, curious.

[black_black_heart]

It was all a clever gambit to avoid having to use the actual, proper title. For some strange reason, Tannusen wasn't fond of certain words, no matter the connotation.

"Very well, Abel," Tannusen agreed easily enough. "Not an event, no. I haven't been putting on any of the usual Fae holidays, though I suppose I could if I wanted to... with Velvet Lust." That was an intriguing thought for another time; it wasn't like Velvet didn't produce Glamour by the bucket-full as it was.

"My kind struggles to keep hold of ourselves as the years go on. It's a careful balance between Banality and Bedlam. I'm having to adjust the balance, is all."