[Festival of Illusions] Every Day the Rules Change

[Victor Lark]

Victor fell for half a chime in an endless blue sky, as the snow and rocks dissolved around him. But then he wished to fly, and it was so. He flew above the clouds and saw the city below him, the mountains around it, the sea beyond it. It felt so right to soar, to be free of the confines of walls and roofs and gravity. He thought he could sing, but before he could realize that great happiness, it was gone. He was interrupted by something even better. He obeyed the man who shared his mark, no matter how unbelievable it was that they shared the sky.

The sudden changes were beginning to overwhelm him. If he had known that the last scene was his choice, he might have chosen something different. He might have chosen to feel, to know at least one emotion that so many others knew, but he could not know that there was an even deeper set desire in him, one that he had not ever thought to consider, planted quite literally by the seed of his kelvic father. It was his need to be free, unburdened by any cage in any form. To move from the freedom of flight to his responsibility for his lover, to the obligation in his haphazardly chosen career... it was jarring, to say the least.

“I come from the sky,” he teased. “And I don't know why I am here. Why are you here? No,”

He laughed, looking curiously around at the strange cleanliness of the otherwise familiar place. The differences between dreams and reality were only technicalities in this latest adventure of his. The world could throw him into any situation, any challenge, any danger, and he would meet it happily. He loved the game. He needed the distraction. Above all, he wanted at least the illusion that he was in control.

And his answer was no answer. He knew the truth, and he knew he had to say it. “I am here because I want to be.”

[Mirage]

The man behind the counter smiled. Leaning back he took the now clean glass and carried it over to the spigot, letting a clear liquid flow into it. Turning he slid the glass down to Victor, "On the house my friend." After wiping his hands off on his rag he returned to lean on the bar close to Victor, "It's not very often that we get those who choose to come here. Not often at all. I had wondered what was so special about you, and I still do to be honest." With a shrug he looked up over the empty tavern, "This place used to be so full that one could not even walk about the floor without trampling toes. I wonder where they have all gotten too...?" From his tone it did not seem he was talking about the tavern specifically, and his eyes seemed to be viewing something completely different. Clearing his throat the man straightened, taking up another dirty glass from seemingly no where and began cleaning once more. "There is someone who wants to see you. That is, if you can find him." A mysterious smile would be the only explanation given, and suddenly Victor would hear the sounds of a full tavern behind him. Turning he would find every seat taken and filled. Waitresses dotted the space between tables, customers banged there glasses asking for refills, and even Ned was in his usual place. Looking closer, however, Victor might begin to notice some strange features on some of the citizens. There was a man in the back left corner sitting alone. His eyes were a dark green color and seemed to shift about the room suspiciously. His hair was raven black, and several feathers were tied into the locks, but no ordinary feathers. These feathers seemed to shift and shimmer with every color imaginable... In the middle of the room there was a woman, loud and happy. Her bright green hair flew about her as she danced and waved her tankard about, cheered on by applause as she laughed and sang, reveling in the attention. Near the front there was a man he looked on and smiled at the commotion. His jaw was strong, hair was as red as freshly spilt blood. He looked to be some sort of mercenary, but he held the eyes of a kind father. Down at the end of the bar there sat a man who looked as if he were pondering some great mystery. His eyes flickered about the room as he pulled at his curly beard. On his right hand there was a tatoo of a Raven, and indeed he looked rather birdlike himself. Closer to the door a woman shook her head, silver hair waving about her as she watched the wild woman seeking attention. With a wave of her hand she dismissed all of this foolishness, and seemed rather annoyed at the disturbance. Suddenly there would appear another, a man this time who sported bright blue hair and tatoos of Raven's wings upon his back. Leaping over the tables he would come to join the woman in her antics, picking up the ale of the man next to him and singing joyous songs, defiant of what he was told by the waitresses around him. From behind Victor a voice would whisper, "Can you see...?" Looking back Victor would find the bartender gone, the now clean glass sitting on the counter before him.

[Victor Lark]

He took the empty glass as if it were what he had ordered, habitually embracing the otherwise staggering illusion. Everything changed too fast for him to even hope to keep track of it all, but he liked to think he moved through the turns with practiced skill. If Victor hated anything, it was boredom; this certainly wasn’t that.

He peered at the room, seeking something to find, but did not linger long in mere observation. Victor had always been fond of riddles, though never very good at them. Usually he could help someone else find the answer and make a friend out of the night, even though he rarely kept them for longer. Anyway, he would not depend on only one mind to find the solution. Perhaps each held a piece of the answer. In their own way, they were each a piece of Ionu, the great divine trick.

Toasting his drinkless drink at Ned’s corner, he stood and stepped toward the bustling bodies at the center of the room. Before he reached his destination, he met the thoughtful, beady eyes of the sharp-nosed man at the end of the bar. Strangely attracted to him, Victor smiled at the bird-man, tugging amiably at his tattooed hand as he neared.

“Join us,” he suggested with an eager nod and released him just as fast as he had grabbed him. Then he turned to the singing woman and the man who had appeared beside her, raising his glass and joining in the song he did not know. The lyrics did not matter when there was reveling to be done. He wedged himself between them and, coming out on the other side, mounted the table and stood above the heads of all. There Victor mumbled at the top of his lungs, happier to sing than to sing the right words. He held his arms out to the birdman like a serenade, and then he turned to the rest of them.

If he was going to be a part of the trick, he could at least have some fun while he did it.

[Mirage]

OOCI have officially been given permission to carry this thread out to its end! You have my undivided attention Victor

The bird-like man seemed to hesitate, but given Victor's encouragement he soon stood and moved to join the festivities, though a bit more reserved than the green haired woman and the blue haired man. With a laugh the blue haired man leaped upon the table, clasping Victor around the shoulders and nodding encouragingly. The green haired woman quickly followed, giggling and pulling on Victor's arm, extracting him from the man's embrace so that they might dance and twirl from table top to table top as the crowds clapped in time with the music.

The festivities would continue for some time, the lively dancing and singing filling the tavern as it never had before. Each of the five figures soon joined in the festivities, even the silver haired woman had lightened up a bit and joined the fun. All of them had moved to surround the table that Victor and the woman danced upon, the rest of the crowd slowly backing away and fading to shadows. The music did not halt, did not waver and increased in pitch. The red haired mercenary took to twirling the silver haired woman about, kind eyes locked on her stern ones. The man with the Raven tattoo upon his hand laughed and joked with the greened eyes man with feathers in his hair, his voice rising and falling in merriment. Then, from his table, Ned slowly raised his head so that his eyes could meet Victors. Standing shakily to his feet the old drunkard wobbled to the table, stopping just at the edge of the surrounding group. Suddenly the drunken stupor fled from his appearance, and he smiled mysteriously at Victor. Clapping his hands together silence overcame the tavern, and the figures all faded to smoke and blew away.

Rubbing the back of his neck Ned moved to the bar, sitting upon one of the stools. Rapping his hand upon the counter he spoke over his shoulder to Victor, "How about a drink Victor. You are the bartender here aren't you?"