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jar-of-maise · 8 months

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"Lynette!" Lyney bursts into the living room with uncharacteristic clumsiness. Leaning against the door frame, Lyney looks like the perfect image of chaos. Little streamers erupt from his pockets and tiny fireworks explode, crackling from under hat and sleeve as he stumbles through the doorway.

The ominous smell of smoke begins to taint the air.

"Lyney, you know what the rules are about magic props inside the house," Lynette chides, blowing on her tea meticulously without looking at her brother.

"Is something wrong...Lyney?" Freminet asks hesitantly, unsure of how to breach the topic.

His older brother huffs dramatically, staggering over to the couch with comically elongated steps. Freminet has to remind himself that this is his older brother, Lyney the Magician, the responsible team leader they all look up to and admire.

He takes another look at Lyney's frazzled expression and decides that now might not be one of those times.

“Oh it’s horrid!” Lyney whines, “the show’s all falling to pieces now!” He exclaims, shoving his face into a cushion. Freminent glances at Lynette, who’s determinedly ignoring Lyney and eyeing a slice of cake on the table.

“Leave him be,” she says when she notices Freminent’s silent cry of help, “he’s just being dramatic. Lyney pull yourself together,” she scolds, carefully slicing through the cake with a fork, “you’re making Freminent worry.”

“Oh my dearest little brother! I had no idea, please forgive me for causing you grief!” Lyney monologues, in a manner not very different to how Lady Furina would deliver speeches, “but this is a matter of utmost importance, I’m really in a pickle.”

“Lynette, maybe…” Freminent begins, watching as his sister’s tail flicks, “hm? Oh alright,” she says in an exasperated voice, “Lyney, use your words. What. Is. It?”

“I,” Lyney begins, delighted to have an audience, “have a problem!”

“I’m delighted to know that you have gained self-awareness,” Lynette replies dryly, reaching for another slice of cake, Freminent watches her and knows that a scolding from Lyney is imminent, but keeps his mouth shut.

“Oh Lynette, how could you be so cold to your dear brother?” Lyney continues to complain, he rests his cheek on the cushion and sighs.

“Are you going to talk about your problem or not?”

“All in due time, there’s no need to be impatient,” Lyney retorts, Freminent blinks, clutching Pers a little tighter as he gets comfortable.

“See, it goes a little like this,” Lyney begins wistfully, “I’ve been experiencing something quite phenomenal you see,” he says, eye turning round, “my hands have been sweating a lot, and it’s like my heart is about to go–” Lyney snaps his fingers and miraculously, a shower of blue coloured butterflies erupt from his fingertips.

“Like that!” He waves his hands.

Freminet nods, “I see,” he says, absorbing himself in the storytelling.

“Just get on with it,” Lynette says, delicately pouring herself another cup of tea, her ears pricked in a very satisfied manner.

“Well!” Lyney continues unoffended, “my brain has also been going fuzzy and I’m finding it hard to focus…no matter what happens, I just keep thinking about the same thing. But sometimes I’m giddy and all mushy like–”

“Please don’t,” Lynette interrupts, “it’ll be a hassle to clean up later.”

“Oh just this once, please Lynette, please?”

Lynette sighs, “fine.” She says, with unamused eyes.

Lyney grins and melts himself onto the couch, “I’m melting like sugar, or one of those chocolates that dissolve in your mouth!” He proclaims, and throws a sweet at Freminet who catches it, “Caramel Melts; nothing like a melt to give you a little help,” he says slowly, reading the cursive print on the wrapper.

“Where did you get this from?” Freminet asks curiously.

“Unimportant,” Lyney says dismissively, “I’ll get you some more if you like them though, but anyways, all of the symptoms listed above,” Lyney unravels a scroll and unrolls it with a flourish.

Freminet should be used to Lyney’s tricks by now, but he’s still amazed at the fountain pen that begins writing by itself, “sweaty hands, strange emotions; mushiness, unreasonable amounts of joy…” he stops reading.

“All of these,” Lyney points at the scroll, “are what I believe are symptoms of…” he pauses for dramatic effect.

“That’s right! These are none other than…signs of heart stroke!” Lyney says proudly.

There is a long, fat silence.

The floor is very interesting, Freminet decides, and these shoes have a spectacular shine, I should really polish them some more, he thinks to himself.

“Lyney,” Lynette says, breaking the heavy silence, “you’re not going through heart stroke.”

Thank archons, Lynette is here! Freminet doesn’t think he’d have the courage to say that to Lyney’s face, in a manner that wouldn’t make Lyney even more melodramatic.

“What!? Then what is it?” Lyney asks, rising from the clutches of the plush couch for the first time.

“My diagnosis is…” Lynette pauses for dramatic effect, and Freminet swears Pers is listening attentively too.

They all hold their breaths.

“You’re in love, Lyney.” Lynette announces, taking a long sip of her tea. Freminet’s eyes widen, but it doesn’t compare to the heavy thud he hears and the long, loud shriek of, “WHAT?!” That echoes well and truly wonderfully throughout Hotel Bouffes d'ete. From then on, the urban legends of Fontaine often speculated about a most inhuman ghoul or perhaps, troll that was being kept hidden in the Hotel basement.

Not that such rumours could ever be proven.

“Let them imagine,” Lynette would say, sipping her tea nonchalantly, “a little shock has never hurt anyone,” she glances at Lyney, who’s been sitting on his chair with a stunned expression on his face. Indeed, Lynette helps herself to a macaroon, perhaps the next step is to give Lyney a little push, after all, a gentle nudge has never hurt anyone either.

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jar-of-maise · 8 months

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"Um Lyney," Paimon began, in an uncharacteristically hesitant voice.

"Oh? It isn't like you to be so shy, please go on, what's on your mind?" Lyney asked, looking up at her curiously.

Paimon looked at Aether anxiously, then floated a little closer to him, shedding sparkles as she flew, "well, some of the kids were telling us about how you tell them about fairytales..." She begins.

"Ah!" Lyney snaps his fingers, "are you here to ask me to tell you some stories? Well why didn't you say so?" He hops up easily, gracefully revealing several embossed hardcover books which fall out of his hat.

"Take a pick! There are many here, don't be shy," Lyney says cheerfully, showing the books off happily, "this one is a personal favourite," he winks at Aether.

The cover is of a golden-haired prince, drawing a sword from his sheath, sparkles dance around his figure. White armour adorns his strong figure. "It's a pretty cover...but," Paimon begins, raising a finger.

Lyney raises his eyebrows, "oh? Not to your taste? That's alright," he twirls the book around on his fingers, then tosses it up in the air, where it disappears after a sharp snap of his fingers.

"How about this one? It's about a mermaid and her journey to the human world," Lyney offers, smiling at Paimon and Aether as he shows them the book.

"Well, they're all very nice but–" Paimon tries again.

"Goodness! Have you always driven such a hard bargain?" Lyney asks comically, shaking his head, the books tumble down from his hands as he sighs in defeat.

"Lyney." Lynette says with a deadpan look on her face, "they probably want you to tell them a specific story."

"Yeah!" Paimon exclaims, "thank you Lynette!"

"No worries," Lynette says, crossing her arms and nodding, "my brother does have a habit of talking too much," she says, tail swishing side to side.

"Hey! I'm still here you know!" Lyney cries.

Lynettte fixes him with a very exasperated glare, "I know."

"Oh Lynette, how could you be so cruel to your dear brother?" Lyney whines, slumping, a few cards slipping out from underneath his hat. They fall sadly onto the ground, like limp autumn leaves.

"Um..." Aether begins, "we were hoping to hear about the story you created for the kids here," he says hopefully.

"The story...I made?" Lyney asks, perking up, "you want to hear my stories?" He asks in a tone so innocent that Aether can't help but feel endeared by his excitement.

"Yeah! Of course we do, you're a great storyteller Lyney!" Paimon cheers, "yeah!" Aether agrees, nodding vigorously.

"Well then," Lyney gathers his cards in one sweeping motion, shoving them back into his hat, "I can't disappoint my audience then, can I? Please take a seat, the show will be put on momentarily." Lyney grins, gesturing at the table in front of them.

"Please help yourself," Lynette says in a monotone voice as Paimon and Aether slid into their seats. She places her hat onto the table, and once she removes it, trays and plates of snacks appear magically.

"Wow! Thank you! Paimon's digging in then!"

Lynette nods, satisfied, she pours herself a cup of tea and takes a long sip from her cup.

"So Lyney," Paimon says to the magician, who's mumbling to himself as they help themselves.

"Hm? What's up?" Lyney asks curiously.

"The children here said that this story was called, 'The Thief's Hope' but, they also said that it has a sad ending," Paimon comments, "is that true?"

"Ah, you want to hear that story," Lyney says, there's an unreadable expression on his face, "well I wouldn't say it's that sad, uh, it's just not your typical fairytale."

"Yet the kids still love this story," Aether says, watching as Lyney puffs out his cheeks in slight disagreement.

"Yeah I don't really know why," Lyney laughs, slumping onto a nearby couch with a poof!

"Hey, at least that means you're a good story teller!" Paimon says comfortingly, nibbling on a cupcake as she talks.

"Perhaps," Lyney looks at Aether, then at Lynette. His eyes are wistful as he gazes at his hands silently. Outside, the rain was pouring ceaselessly. A cold wind brushed by and the water rapped on the windows. Lyney thought for a long time, then he just sighed fondly, fingers tracing a seam on his shorts before smiling brightly at Aether and Paimon.

“Alright! Let me tell you the story!” He jumps up from the chair and bows deeply, “Lynette, if you would please,” he bows towards his sister who sighs, “fine," she says.

Lynette snaps her fingers and just like magic, a large backdrop appears behind Lyney, Paimon gasps in surprise and Aether leans forward curiously. It’s a depiction of the Fontaine streets, and the desolate piece of artwork is crafted with life-like accuracy.

“Allow me to take you back in time,” Lyney steps forth, a hand tucked behind his back as he twirls his hat on his fingers.

“There once lived a young boy, he was very poor and often worried about when his next meal would come by,” Lyney snapped his fingers and a little doll fell down from somewhere above his head, it was neatly stitched together, yet dirty and battered as though it had been abused and never loved.

Lyney smiled and nodded at Lynette who waved her hand. A spotlight shone onto the makeshift “stage” focusing on the tiny doll who picked himself up and began to walk around.

“He was often bullied, looked down upon and slowly, he found himself pushed to the darkest streets, where the light did not fall,” as he spoke, Lyney flicked his fingers, they appeared as dark, long shadows on the harsh light of the backdrop and the doll was flung away.

“But he never forgot what being in the light felt like,” Lyney’s voice echoed from somewhere, like a omnipresent narrator. As he spoke, the little doll picked itself up and began to stumble slowly towards the audience, “he longed to go back, there was a hole in his heart that he wanted to fill. A void that was as dark as the night sky.”

The inky blackness that suddenly filled the stage was so desperate and suffocating that Paimon audibly gasped. No light shone, indeed, it seemed as though even the oxygen was being removed from their lungs. Aether wondered if this too, was a part of the magic.

"He tried to fill his heart with the scraps that littered the streets," Lyney's voice began to speak again, "he hoarded those little things zealously, even they had no love for him and he had no love for them."

A small pinprick of light appeared on the stage and focused on Lyney's figure, he stood in the centre, with a grave expression on his face.

"His fingers were nimble and his feet too, were agile," Lyney smiled, a small doll appearing on his hand.

"He took the memories and love of others, he tried to light up the darkness in his heart with the light and warmth of others." Lyney procured a candle, "but he could not chase away the cold in his heart, nor could he brighten any corner of that room, for it was locked!"

Lynette grimanced into her cup, but begrudgingly waved her hand. The flame of the candle died out as she waved her hand and Lyney smiled widely.

"How should I light up this dark heart?" Lyney walked across the stage, making a thoughtful expression, "Ah! The boy realised something, when he was wandering the streets one day!"

Lyney smiles, carefully placing the doll down, "people crave the unknown, they are fascinated by fantasy…and what better way to achieve that than–” a sudden burst of streamers erupted from behind his back, “magic?”

The backdrop changed, it was a light and happy scene, where the doll reappeared, looking much cleaner and put together, the doll was surrounded by other dolls, they were smiling at him.

"If I can't love myself...and I can't take it from others, what if I made them give it to me? That was what the thief thought," Lyney grinned, blowing a shower of confetti hearts at his audience.

Aether smiled slightly when some of the paper brushed his cheek.

"So he began to try and perform, with the few skills he had learned from stealing. No matter how he tried to mask his true self, this boy was a thief," Lyney pointed at the heinous doll with an accusatory finger.

"The truth was that he was a thief, and that all his story-truths were lies." Lyney declared.

Aether and Paimon smiled knowingly, Lynette helped herself to a muffin. She was enjoying the chance to enjoy as many treats as she could.

“So the thief had finally found something that could fill up his empty heart," Lyney kept talking, "but still, the feeling of emptiness persisted. So he kept performing, kept going, just to chase that feeing," butterflies flew out from Lyney's finger tips as he spoke.

“The treacherous thief lied his way to the top. He tricked people ceaselessly, putting on a show that the masses would love. Lies were piled up on falsehoods. The thief could no longer return to the shadows of his past."

Lyney made a shape with him fingers where the light reflected it's shadow onto the backdrop, "The Thief looked down at the world from on top of the tower he’d built. It was exquisitely crafted, held together by fabricated illusions. He was a sinner, a devil who’d escaped from hell who was undeserving of the light he had gained."

Aether's eyes narrowed slightly, he sipped some tea but listened attentively, Lyney noticed this change, smiling to himself he thought, 'ah he gets it.'

Lyney kept talking, "Like a famous actor, the parts that he had to play continued to increase. People’s lives were entrusted to his hands at night, and in the daytime, he stole people’s hearts. He had never been bested and life itself, was the stage for his craft.

He sat under the night sky one lonely evening, gazing out into the inky darkness. The thief looked at the stars, they had always sparkled so beautifully, untouched by pain or sorrow. He wanted that light, even though he knew he could never emulate that gentle radiance.

That was when he met her,” Lyney’s voice took on a reminiscing tone and suddenly Aether was seized by a strange thought, was this just a mere story? He had no time to ponder this question, because Lyney was moving onto the next part of the story.

”Who was she?" Lyney wondered aloud, "well, perhaps she could be described like a burst of sunlight in a cold, frosty winter, or a wonderful flower blossoming in a wasteland...but no," he paused, "she was more than just those."

"She was the steady roll of waves on the ocean, she was the star that never left the night sky," it seemed like Lyney had forgotten his magic in that moment. He stood before them, as a performer still, but Aether realised that this was not only a story, but a reflection of Lyney himself.

"She was not words, she was a feeling," Lyney almost whispered to himself. Yet in the breathless silence that beheld the room, he may as well have shouted those words. Upon beholding this vulnerable side of Lyney, Aether couldn't help but smile sadly.

"The Thief was a certain kind of summertime sadness, one that spring couldn't cure," Lyney said slowly, withered petals falling with every step he took backward, away from the audience.

"He had no words that could describe her, for all the stories The Thief had spun, all the lies he'd said, there was no word he knew that could speak about the truth in her. But The Thief liked to call her mon armour," Lyney smiled bitterly, there was a hatred in the way he uttered those words.

Aether was taken back, but he didn't know why Lyney seemed to dislike those last few words so much.

"Her presence was gentle, yet searing. To The Thief who couldn't remember hugs or caresses, her touches was an uncomfortable, addicting burn."

Sitting in the audience, Lynette looked at her reflection in her cup sadly. This, was his way of atoning for lies, by weaving truths into his stories so that he might not spin falsehoods. She knew Lyney better than anyone else, to most this was obvious, but they didn't know about the hopes of her older brother. Past his light, and his shadow, was a young boy who loved to love and be loved.

That, was also a kind of truth.

"This Thief," Lyney murmured, "he was a haunted house, hollow from inside to out, plagued by a restless soul that was more focused on destroying the construct that kept it existing than anything else. Every now and then, a wind would rush through and open half-closed, weeping wounds.

The people who sojourned in this house did not help the soul, they loved only the mystery, the romance, the unattainable nature of his performance. And often left the house shabbier than when they first entered.

But not mon armour, she came in, like a little ghost. Planting purple wisteria in his mind, with wonderful trees that entwined their roots around the house and bound him to the earth. Camomile grew from his scars, moss and dewdrops patched his wounds.

She planted gardens of lavender in his mind, so that his anxiety might be soothed.

If there was anyone that might make him feel like life was worth living on, it would be her. A gentle love, that didn't demand. How funny, The Thief had never once known how to care, he did not think about the emotion itself. Never committed." Lyney nodded, though Aether didn't know if he was talking to himself or his audience.

"Yet he tried, loving was clumsy. He couldn't make sense of the lines he was meant to colour inside and often scribbled outside of those boundaries. But at least, he was less transient, and more of a home now." Lyney drifted off into his own thoughts, "my love, what a wonderful name, if only..."

Aether lets him mumble to himself, Paimon also floats over to him with a soft, melancholic smile. "Poor Lyney..." she says quietly, "the story must mean a lot to him."

"I think there was a bit more than just that," Aether comments, but refrains from saying some of his other thoughts, knowing Paimon would just freak out.

"My brother finds it hard to express himself," Lynette chips in, "thank you for listening to him," she bows her head.

"It's okay, please tell him that we'd listen to him anytime!" Paimon exclaims waving her hands.

"Thank you, I will."

"I know you're not much of a talker, but we'll also listen to you, if you need it," Aether says, smiling brightly at Lynette, who gives him a little smile in response.

"I will cherish that offer." She says, "honestly," she adds, looking at Lyney with a half-endearing, half-fond and equal parts exasperated expression, "for someone who insists he's unlovable, loving sure comes easily to him."

"He has a lot to give," Aether says kindly, Lyney is quiet, a broken piece of cermanic-ware, so fractured yet so well patched up he looks new. Aether is glad he has something to hope for.

"Lyney loves like he breathes but treats it like it's cancer," Lynette replies, "when he first realised he was infatuated he said he got a heart stroke. Yet if loving really was a disease, he'd hope he'd never recover from his illness" Lynette takes a sip of tea and rolls her eyes gracefully. "In that sense, he's utterly hopeless,"

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