Cleaning House [Vienna/Public]

((/must stop looking at Gilakis long enough to reply--))

In his opinion, telling fortunes sounded a lot cooler than fighting bears. And way, way cooler than running a carnival. Any average Joe could do that.

His eyes lit up like a kid in a candy store, "Seriously? What are you talking about, telling fortunes is 'all you do'? That's awesome--especially compared to raising bears." He snorted. His race had been kidnapping, raising, and hunting bears since the dawn of forever. It was not anything even close to special, in his mind. Of course, he was able to communicate with the animals in a way that was a bit unique, but even that was not anything outstanding. Lots of people were good with animals.

"How does it work? Can you tell my fortune?" In retrospect, he wasn't the kind of person who should be asking for a prediction of the future. He'd believe anything he was told.

"Bears don't sit quietly while you predict bad news for them." She replied with a grin. "I still say that's the more exciting job."

She didn't have her cards with her, but she supposed she could just make it up for him. She was good at that. Besides, he looked so eager to hear something. She would just say things to make him happy and of would all be over.

"Hmm..." She put a hand to her temple and closed her eyes as if she was intercepting some divine radio frequency. Eyes flickering open, she said ominously, "You'll meet your true love on a day you wear those shoes..." She pointed to them, in her mind hoping to god he wore them every day. "And... Uh... If there is no rain tomorrow you'll soon have good luck." With a drought everywhere, she doubted he would probe her wrong.

She falling on her back, she slumped over the rock as if that whole shpeal had drained her of energy completely. A guy like him would believe every bit of it, for sure.

He believed every bit of it.

"Whoa--" Leaping up, he went to look at her, thinking she'd passed out, "Are you okay?"

Seeing that she was still conscious, he helped her to sit up straight instead, handling her like some sort of delicate china. She seemed like she would break from any carelessness. Once she was safely upright again, he sat down on the rock and collapsed backward himself, the new information now weighing on his mind.

It hadn't been raining much lately, but no good luck didn't necessarily mean bad luck, right? So that wasn't necessarily a problem. It was the first thing she said that was figuring badly in his mind.

"These are my only shoes," he complained, "...Does that mean I should stop wearing them?" He wasn't so keen on that. Whatever the weather was, he generally didn't feel comfortable not keeping his feet warm. It seemed like it would lead to illness.

For once, he wasn't smiling. He just looked worried. 'True love' was certainly not something he felt like he wanted. Of course, she couldn't have known it, but he preferred to have many 'lovers'. And not even. Love was too heavy a concept for him. Sexuality was one thing, falling into commitment was quite another.

He really did believe it all. Even her feigned fatigue. Was he genuinely stupid or jut naïve?

With his next words she decided he was just stupid. Looking down at him, she frowned. "I think you misheard me. You're supposed to be happy." His expression didn't change. "I said true love. It's a good thing."

This reaction was certainly new.

She wasn't sure how to respond to it. "Well borrow someone else's shoes then." She was slightly Miffed by his lack of amazed gratitude.

"Good thing?" He looked incredulous and genuinely alarmed, "I'm not ready for something that serious...!"

Love was no light matter to him. It wasn't even something one was allowed to fall in and out of; it was final. Forever. Period. It meant getting married, having children, and devoting the rest of his life to supporting the family and enduring whatever hardships came with it. Which didn't sound like a very fun way to end the freedom of his youth. He'd just gotten out of a traditional society, and now he was being forced back into it?

Biting on the edge of his thumbnail in worry, he sat back up, mumbling to himself, "Arash is only a little taller than me...I'll beg to trade shoes...yeah..." Sighing, he rested his elbows on his knees and held his chin in both hands, looking for all in the world like a kid who'd just bombed an exam.

Laughing a little, he listed off like an automated machine, "To cherish, to consider, to feel, to recall, to imagine, to think of, to worry about, to care about... Love isn't a very light thing, is it? Even the word itself is heavy."

She whipped around to glare at him, slightly. He did not just say what she just heard. "What do you mean, 'not ready'??" It seemed she was about to make another person her whipping boy over her own masked heartbreak and idealism. "Love is all anyone should hope for in life!" She listed off her reasons on her hands, right above his eyes. "When you're born your parents hope your beautiful so that you can marry well. You go to school so you can learn how to act proper to get married. You can't expect to go anywhere after you're done with schooling without spending your life with someone!! If you dont you may think you're happy but you're not, you're not really happy at all!!"

Her voice had gone up an octave and her voice had become frantic and rushed. She was almost completely silent after the tirade, an oxygen-deprived blush around her large blinking eyes. "You aren't going to trade shoes with anyone." She finished with, crossing her arms and turning back around to face the lake.

But... his explanation made so much sense. She had to have a rebuttal for that, too. "You don't think about that when you really love someone... you are just able to do it all at once." Though that got her thinking. Did Auguste mean all those things to her?

He may not have been the sharpest knife in the drawer, but even he could tell that it wasn't him she was talking about. ...For one thing, what parents hoped for a boy that grew up to be 'beautiful'? Half-smiling, he informed her softly, "I don't have parents. And I couldn't afford to go to school--I can't even read." It was amazing to him that he had so many siblings and yet no parents that he could remember. But in any case, he'd spent most of his young life working to provide for the family and to help raise the younger ones. No one had worried about him getting married, of all things. Sure, it had been a pretty hard life, and he had his misgivings, but he still considered himself to be a cheerful person.

Adjusting himself so he was sitting cross-legged on the rock, facing her, he asked kindly, "Are you not really happy?" If there was anything he'd learned from being immersed in this new country, with so many races from so many backgrounds, it was that he was amongst the simplest of them all. But that sometimes these complex people needed to be around someone simple.

Pulling off both of his shoes, he leaned to the side so that he wouldn't hit her, and tossed them both into the lake. Maybe it was symbolic, maybe it was because he was still legitimately concerned that they'd bring him a romance he wasn't prepared for. Either way, they were gone, just like that. Settling back into place, he grinned. Still happy.

She looked down and twiddled her thumbs, suitably embarrassed with herself.

"I don't have parents. And I couldn't afford to go to school--I can't even read."

It didn't seem plausible. Then again, he raised bears. "Well..." She searched for another rebuttal. "All that just made you forget about what really matters, then." She didnt know what it was like to grow up like he did, but they both had very different hurdles to jump over. His was about perseverance and endurance through adversity, hers was learning how to control people before they controlled her, which she had really failed at.

So was she happy? She looked down at the rock and was silent for a moment. "I make good money, I have a man..." She wanted to add 'who loves me' or 'who I love' but... It wouldn't come out of her mouth. "And I..." there should have been more.

Before she could admit to her unhappiness, his shoes sailed past her head and into the lake. She looked back to the splash they made then to him repeatedly. "How are you supposed to walk back?" Her answer in itself was subconsciously symbolic. To him, shoes were superficial. One could still walk without shoes. She wouldn't. She couldnt.

She was looking down, but he didn't see that she should. Lifting her chin, he looked into her eyes with his own wide, clear ones, "What matters if you're not happy?" It seemed like such an easy concept to him: just do what you like, and like what you do. But it seemed like others had so many things holding them back that he'd never had to deal with. Once he'd left the society that assumed the worst of him, he'd been set free, he could pursue what he enjoyed without having to worry about anything. He supposed it was not so easy for some to throw off their shackles.

And her life didn't sound like a very fun or fulfilling one. Money? A man? Was that it? He couldn't speak for the latter, but...money and the struggle for it had never made him very happy. In his opinion, other than the necessities, it didn't get him much that he wanted. But then, he didn't want much.

Unfolding his legs, he vaulted off of the rock and stood barefoot in the grass, wriggling his toes between the green blades. "On my feet, of course." He thought about it for a moment, "Or I guess, I could try on my hands." Planting his palms flat in the earth, he attempted a handstand, only to fall over onto his back almost immediately, laughing at himself.

Her gaze met his again, and she immediately dropped it, pushing his hand away, red-faced. "You have no idea." She replied quietly. In her world happiness was something one needed to attain, almost as unreachable as the afterlife. She had never considered nor thought it possible that one could just declare oneself happy without meeting the prerequisites.

His antics did coax a worried smile out of her. "You're going to hurt yourself. Then you won't be happy."

He'd never heard anyone tell him 'you're going to hurt yourself'; his siblings had been just as free-spirited as him, and what parents or teachers had been around to tell any of them to be careful? They learned entirely through experience.

Attempting it again, he wobbled a bit but managed to stay upright on his palms for a few seconds, with a triumphant grin. But, of course, what goes up must come down (incidentally, gravity was not a concept he knew about), and he fell over forwards with a yelp. Tumbling in such a way that he rolled over upright onto the balls of his feet first before losing balance once again and tilting backwards--not unlike a somersault done in reverse--he fell with his head and upper back against the rock. Hissing at his own (predicted) folly, he rubbed his neck and slumped down to lay on the grass again, the crown of his head just touching the boulder she sat on.

Staring up at her from the ground, bits of grass stuck in his hair (stark green against the white) and wincing in pain, he somehow still managed to laugh at himself, "You never know if you don't try." ...Though, in this case, it probably hadn't been really necessary to try.

Of course he wasn't listening to her. She watched him try it again, lips pursed. She probably shouldn't have hoped that he would hurt himself to prove her point but... It happened anyway.

Sliding off the rock as well with some difficulty, landing shakily on her heels, Fränze trudged carefully through the grass. "You should have listened to me," She admonished, lowering herself to her knees (idiot, making her ruin her dress). Normally she wouldn't even try to help. But something about this man seemed so child-like. Somewhere along the line, she did want to be a mother. But after the series of dreams where she had had and subsequently lost her child due to her own fragility... She seemed to have lost hope on that front. She didn't know why a dream had so much effect on her.

She took his face in her hands and brushed off as much grass as she could, then checked the back of his head. No real damage. Lucky bastard. She released his head, letting it drop back onto the rock, lips still pursed, as though she was somehow disappointed in this man she'd only just met.

He gave her a toothy grin in response to her scolding, "Am I in trouble now?" Her reaction was kind of entertaining to him, seeing as most people would have probably laughed along and/or teased him for it. As she inspected and cleaned up his head, he snickered at the bits of grass and weed that fluttered onto his shoulders, though he was also secretly taking note of her hands. Talk about delicate-feeling. His own were always on the rougher side, given how much physical work he did. He didn't get to ruminate over it for long, though, as she released him as soon as the check-up was done.

Somewhat to his dismay, he saw that she still didn't look very cheered-up. Expression becoming a bit more gentle, he put a thumb to the corner of her mouth and pretended to pull upwards on it, "Smile, Franze, I didn't bodily injure myself for nothing."

((Guh, apologies for slowness, I'm supposed to be writing an essay about malaria atm. :\ WHAT IS VACATION.))

She just rolled her eyes at his question. If he kept acting stupid, most likely. It was almost as if she wanted to keep an eye on him to make sure he didn't hurt himself again.

Compared to him she led an easy life, albeit a sheltered life. Her hands hadn't seen any real work in... Well, never. She wasn't much accustomed to being this close to a stranger (was he really a stranger? Probably not), and when he grabbed her cheek, she was startled, so say the least.

Slightly squeaking in surprise, her cheeks flushed red and she swatted his hand away. He didn't do it for nothing? "Well what did you do it for, huh?" She grumbled. She was so used to being around people with reasons and a purpose for doing everything... He was almost alien to her.

On the contrary, rather than a stranger, he already saw them as being good friends. Of course, he wasn't sure how such a friendship would continue after this, seeing as they belonged to rival groups, but, hey. It meant something, didn't it?

"To make you laugh," he laughed himself, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, "Why else would I?" He had no idea that there existed people who would scheme, who would purposely do things to harm a fragile and beautiful woman. Such a concept didn't exist in his mind, and wouldn't make sense, even if it were introduced to him.

"Why?" She immediately inquired, head cocked to the side with apprehension. "To make fun of me? To humiliate me?" Though there was surely no one around to see. Paranoia ruled her life and made her seek out the wrong culprits. In her mind, the more simple one was the more one was hiding; she was trying to hard. It was all backwards.

She stood up and brushed off her dress with an indignant frown. "Why can't you just tell me what you're playing at? Throwing out your shoes and acting like some sort of crazy person-- why??"

He looked legitimately shocked. "Why would I want to do that?" This was somewhat new for him; generally, it didn't take him this long to form a good impression--and certainly, he wasn't used to people thinking he was mean. He was probably the last guy in the world who would want to humiliate anyone.

Leaping to his feet as well, the smile was gone and replaced with a face that said he had no idea what she was going on about. "I don't know--maybe I'm just a crazy person," he laughed nervously, clearly confused. "What's wrong? Seriously, did I say something?" Maybe for once he was going to have to consider the consequences of speaking without forethought.

She laughed bitterly. "Like you don't know what you're doing." her frown grew, more hurt than angry at his supposed sabotage of her feelings. "You did that whole 'are you really happy' play just to make me weaker, and doubt myself. I don't know why but I'm not going to find out!" Tears threatened to spill over in her eyes. "Because you want my money, or want me out of Mystique or... Or... Something!!"

Her small delicate fists shook at her sides. She was too uncomposed to Control the music box then, and as much as she didn't want to she would have to walk away. Forgetting what comment was supposed to come before, an angry shudder went up her form. "...Filthy urchin...!!"

And with that, she turned on her heel and swept up her bag of souls, gathering her skirt on one side and headed back to the less overgrown trail.

Was he acting like a crazy person or was she? Personally, he felt like it was the latter. Where in the world did all of these accusations come from? What had he said to cause any of this? He'd never been so confused in his life.

He was about to follow her, hold her still by the arm and get a reasonable explanation for all of this. "What are you talking abou--"

"...Filthy urchin...!!"

He flinched back, as if he'd been slapped across the face. It had been quite a while since he'd been called 'filthy' anything. It stung twice as much as the last time he could remember. He was probably well within his rights to be angry for the undeserved insult, but he just stood rooted to the ground, looking like a dog that'd been left out in the rain.