driftfleet | And then he has to go be weird again

Entry tags:

cole,
elize lutus

And then he has to go be weird again

Who: Cole + Anyone willing to come find him on the Pathstone
Broadcast: n/a
Action: Cole's bunk on the Pathstone
When: Now ish?

[Usually, Cole manages a fairly good impression of amicably odd. And, normally, he's a fairly stable person, at the least he's out and about and piloting and generally sticking his nose into people's hurts to help them.

But he's retreated into his heretofore unused bunk for the last day or so. He talks to himself a lot in a whisper and worse, he seems to have wrangled up paint from somewhere, because on the floor outside his bunk, there's painted writing.]

A gold sonnet

[The handwriting is sharp and rushed and unpracticed.]

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You gave the poetry thing a shot, knew it wasn't for you.

Still, the painting is going okay.

It doesn't look right. I'm not very good at painting. Do you ever fly, when we go to planets?

I can't fly the ship, I'm not a pi-

[Then it clicks. ]

Oh, you mean with the wings. Sometimes, if the fancy takes me.

Yes, with the wings.

Is it nice, being able to fly?

I suppose so? Can't say I honestly feel the need to do it all that much.

I miss flying. Gravity makes me stay on the ground.

Gravity does have a tendency to put a damper on things.

I didn't like having to learn to deal with gravity on this side of the Veil.

I suppose on the other side, the rules are a little bit different, hmmm?

[He's genuinely curious, he wants to know. ]

[Cole hums and rocks back and forth on his feet briefly.]

Yes. I don't know if there are rules. I suppose there are. People make the rules by being there.

Sounds about right, for people. They like things to have a certain amount of structure. They like to make sense of things. Tick their little checkboxes.

They make the Fade have rules. Walk on ground, swim in water, fly in air, don't have too many eyes or limbs.

[He wanders back into his room a little more. There's a painting on the wall that something that bit inhuman might recognise as a painting of defiance and rebellion given a shape.]

[Crolwey stares at the painting for a moment, before turning his attention back to Cole. Everything about this kid (kid???) is so weird. ]

Well, that's just not fun at all.

That's Fen'Harel.

[Cole doesn't offer any further explanation on that. He watches Crowley with a young, open face and ancient, haunted eyes.]

[Wait, he's heard that word before... ]

Isn't that one of those elf-y swear words Jove uses sometimes?

It's his name.

[Which isn't any help, but is actually an explanation.]

[Okay, that's confusing. ]

His? So...this is a person? Or is it like when humans on Earth swear to the Big Guy or the Boss?

I'm not a person, but I have a name.

I'm not a person either, if we're going to get all technical about it. Who is he, then? The Fen-herwahtsit?

... he's Fen'Harel.

[Duh, Crowley. Who else do you think he is but him?]

[Crowley raises one slender eyebrow, before laughing. ]

Are you sassing me? You are, aren't you? Wow. I'm actually a little proud right now.

[Cole tilts his head to the side and offers nothing that would suggest one way or the other if that's true.]

[Crowley still looks amused. ]

Good job, kid, good job. I'll leave you to your...whatever it is.

Painting. It's called 'painting'.

[Eyebrow quirk. That's two in a short period, good job, Cole. The sass is growing strong. ]

Yes. The painting. You...carry on with that.

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killedwithlove - 2016-01-26 01:10 (UTC) - Expand

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onlyanapple - 2016-01-26 01:13 (UTC) - Expand

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