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[littlesoul]

[She's perched on the highest spot she can find in the lobby, her journal clutched against her chest. This isn't anything like she's used to, nothing feels familiar. Her heart is beating hard in her chest and her hands want to start shaking.

Her mind is racing, filled with the thoughts of so many people around her. The night before, she had achieved some kind of calm, she remembered that, but now, with this new, strange turn of events, she's falling again, lost amidst the sea of thoughts around her.

She scribbles in her journal at a feverish pace, the words small and pushed together as she tries to hold back panic.]

Lost.

Lost, lost, lost, lost.

Fell into the black and landed here. Fell and fell and fell until I hit the ground. I can't remember how to get back, too lost to see clearly.

Can someone pick her up again? Can someone put her back where she belongs?

Too loud.

Can't go high enough, can't find a way out, can't find anything that I want.

Ship, she needs a ship again. She needs the sky.

Comments

[littlesoul]

[She considers the question, knowing what he wants and trying hard to give to to them.] All kinds of stories, war stories ad mythology and stories about flying. Lies too but they're different. We have bible stories and stories of Earth That Was and fairytales too.

[kethedammit]

[Mildmay idly wonders what a 'Bible' is.] I ain't never heard none of 'em, probably, if'n you feel like spilling. [Mildmay has no ulterior motive-- he just really loves stories, with a hungry and eager curiosity. He'd like to see what stories he could collect here, and hopes Jeanne-Terre is out of the well enough to maybe tell one.]

[littlesoul]

She closes her eyes and takes in a deep breath, careful with her words.

Words spill out about her history, about Earth That Was, about the Unification about everything. It's not so much a story as a collection of scenes but it paints a picture of the world all the same. She makes it a point to gloss over some things, over the Academy, over things she's involved with, but she paints a broad picture of the world that she came from, the world that made her.]

[kethedammit]

[Mildmay struggles to keep up-- this is definitely the story a crazy person would tell, but there are fun ideas all the same. The idea that people can go out into the stars is a nice one, and the idea of everyone having just one ruling body is another. It's amusing, even if it takes a little guesswork to keep up with.]

Okay. Thanks. [Stifled, but genuine gratitude. Mildmay will never scorn a story.] You like spooky stories any?

[littlesoul]

Like what they can tell about you. <[She smiles a little.] We reveal ourselves in our stories if we're not careful.

[kethedammit]

[That'd almost be creepy if Mildmay hadn't dealt with way creepier shit. Nikah, when he was alive, always used to love to add spooky shit onto the end of stories, all and this will haunt you to the end of your days. Mildmay figured out that was just Nikah being Nikah by the end of his first septad.] Yeah, okay. I'll lay off on tallowman stories, then. You ever heard the story of the Boneprince?

[littlesoul]

[She smiles a little, shaking her head[ My stories and yours don't meet in the middle, they go different places.

[kethedammit]

[Mildmay shrugs that right off like a duck with water. Half what this girl says, Mildmay's sure doesn't matter, the other half probably only matters to her. Actually, maybe that's all of it, and it's the rest of the world that's gotta scramble to make sense of things. There's a though.]

[Anyway. The Boneprince.] This story's true. I mean, as true as can be. It happened, anyway. [He clears his throat.] So there's this cemetery, where I live. Uh, lived. It's supposed to be called Adrian's Park, but we all call it the Boneprince, and here's why...

[Again, Mildmay becomes animated, excited, interested in the conversation, his own words. He comes out from behind the veneer of stoicism. He talks about old King Mathurin Open-Handed,] He's called that 'cause he was all generous with the poor and shit. Only king who was, in all twenty great septads. [Mildmay talks about Mathurin's two sons, twins Richard and Adrian, and how Richard was born just a few minutes before Adrian. And Adrian was jealous. He waited years and years, and then he tried to kill Richard in his sleep, and he failed, waking up Richard's mistress on the way to their bed. King Mathurin had Adrian arrested, but he'd committed suicide before the trial.]

Now, as it was, Mathurin'd built a pleasure walk, a nice big garden, when the boys'd hit their second septad. Then, the day after Adrian done offed himself, Mathurin goes out and he says, from this day on, Adrian's Park shall be a cemetery set aside especially for the likes of thieves and murderers. [For the voice of the king, Mildmay does a half-hearted imitation of Felix's flash accent, vowels all clipped and pretty, nothing slurred.] And just like that, Adrian was the first burial. We all call it the Boneprince, though, on account of, well, you can guess.

There's a big damn statue of Adrian right at the front. When they got it put in, it had these lapis lazuli eyes along of Adrian's being real bright blue. Of course, those things got carved out and stole first thing off, and now he stares out at night with empty sockets. Some folks say it's a mercy, so he can't see the place where he would'a been king, since of course the statue's facing up that way.

[littlesoul]

[She listens wrapped up in the tale ad it's telling. She can see it unfold on her ind, feel the words pull her down into the images and even though its not a nice story, it's one she likes. It's history, maybe not her own, but that grants it a special place in her heart]

Thank you. [It's soft but sincere, her gratitude obvious on her face. She can feel the last of her nerves ebbing away, not because of where they are but because of what he's giving her to focus on.] It's not the good men who tell the best tales but the honest ones.

[kethedammit]

[Mildmay frowns. But then, he sure ain't good. Maybe it was some kind of backhanded compliment.]

[Or maybe this girl's crazy, Milly-fox. Way to take it personal.] Uh, well, 'm glad you liked it?

[littlesoul]

[He's good enough, honest with her and true enough and his mind is more of a refuge than most. Maybe she
is crazy but she believes eery word she says.]

I did. [She gets to her feet, moving closer and settling in next to him, again taking up his position.] I like this.

[kethedammit]

Good. When she sits down next to him-- well, that's strange. He's not used to people trusting him, but then again, she is crazy.]

[There are more stories he could tell her-- Jean-the-Knife's rampage through Simside, or the true love story of Saint Cuthbert and Foldovly Pleasant-- but he wants to make sure everything's alright, first. She seems calmer, now.] There anything I can do for you? I mean, I can't rightly watch your back, but if you want me to look for a room for you, or any of that shit... [He shrugs.] Ain't like I got a straight job to be getting to. [Being Felix's professional shadow doesn't count.]

[littlesoul]

[She feels the surprise and it makes her smile, laugh even. He may not be used to it but she knows that she ca hold her own against most and scars don't scare her in the least. He's bee good to her, at least for now and she likes him.

Shaking her head, she looks out into the room.] Not as harsh here. I can almost think again. [She laughs because it's not entirely true. She can rarely think straight and the castle still pounds in the back of her head but the stories soothed her a bit ad his presence is a calming one.[ I'll find a place. Don't worry. You've got people to keep yourself.

[kethedammit]

[When someone tells you to go, you go. You just can't make decisions for folks, you mostly gotta trust 'em, Mildmay knows. He ain't this girl's daddy, he can't stick around when he ain't wanted. And, maybe more importantly, she ain't like Felix-- something's different, Mildmay is beginning to notice. Maybe it's just how quick she climbed out of the well, but Jeanne-Terr's kind of crazy is different from Felix's. Of course, Mildmay couldn't explain how if he were asked, but this girl... it's like, when she's in the well, she knows it. Which you could never say for Felix, when he was bad off in the grasslands.]

[Mildmay doesn't like that memory, and sets it aside. Back to Jeanne-Terr. People gotta make their own way, even if they're crazy. He'll let her alone, for now.]

[But first...] Okay. Look, my name's Mildmay. [He hopes she isn't the type of crazy you get in stories, where people repeat what they've been told at the worst moment. Felix wasn't like that, anyway, so maybe crazy people aren't really like that, and it's all just stories.] Or Gilroi, some people'll call me. If'n you need me, I can try and help as I can. Or just if'n you wanna hear more stories. I got loads. [He doesn't smile-- the scar would make that action cruel-- but there's a lightness in his eyes, a kindness. He likes being around Jeanne-Terr. She's like Margot's littlest badgers, sort of. She don't treat him like a murderer. 'Course, that's 'cause she's batty, but you gotta get on how best you can. And it's better'n sitting around Felix's friends, trying to figure out what they're planning and why they want Mildmay to play the mummer's role in it.]

[He stands.] So just holler if you need me, okay?

[littlesoul]

Mildmay. {She repeats the word like she's tasting it, testing it for flavor and consistency. She soon nods her head in approval.]

I'll find you again. For stories, for peace.

[Then she moves, wrapping her arms around him for a brief moment, careful not to throw him off balance.]

[kethedammit]

[Mildmay the Fox, the lower city's best assassin, murderer of Cerberus Cresset and Cornell Teverius and Queen Blood herself, blushes bright crimson when a little girl hugs him. He can't remember the last time someone hugged him. People don't do that to him.]

[He's so shocked he forgets to hug back, and kicks himself for it a little, later.] Um. Okay. See you, then. [Awkward as a three-legged cat. He waves at her like the idiot he is, and he leaves.]