[photo + text; open]

[afoolsgold]

[The Fool has, at last, discovered a good reason to make use of this particular aspect of Aifaran technology. Included in this particular post is a photograph of several pieces of woodwork, ostensibly carved by the Fool's own hand. It is accompanied by an offer.]

Hello, dear friends--and dear acquaintances.

I should think it goes without saying that we Dreamfolk left much of ourselves behind us in our old worlds when we arrived in Konryu. For some I imagine that is a blessing, and a curse for others--and for others still, like so often is the case, the feelings are more complicated than that.

It is with this thought in mind that I would like to extend to each of you a kindness: a small, wood-carved token of remembrance, representing the world that you came from, or something of that world that you cherish.

If this offer is of interest to you, please either respond here, or seek me out at my apartment above Die Rosa Tulpe.

Comments

[afoolsgold]

[In the Fool's world, Bastien would fit in marvellously well amongst the liveship traders of Bingtown... or perhaps Pirates Isle, if that was more to his liking. The flourish with which he presents that bottle of wine brings a look of clear surprise to the Fool's face--he hadn't expected that so soon!--but judging by the delighted laugh that follows, he surely isn't about to object.]

You are very, very kind, [he replies with an easy smile. He slips from his seat to accept the bottle, though he does steal a brief glance over his shoulder to make sure Klaus isn't about.] Though I should probably not open it now, given... [and here, he gestures at the shop. Bad business to enjoy a beverage bought somewhere else.]

Would you care to sit? [he invites instead, gesturing to the seat opposite his own at the table.]

[shivvymetimbers]

[A pleased smirk settles onto Bastien's lips once the flaxen haired maiden---wait, no. That's a man, isn't it? Well, whatever the case, Bastien is glad the Fool accepted his humble gift. Hopefully that's a decent bottle of wine. It would be a shame if Bastien stolen a cheap bottle.]

Not as kind as you, mate. You ought sell your little crafts for some coin.

[He grins a little as he settles down at the table. He stares at the carvings on display with such intrigue and appreciation. Bastien can carve maybe a horse or fish out of wood but nothing like these. His not very good with arts and crafts.]

My, they're even lovelier up close. [Bastien mutters while inspecting one of the ornate spoons. That odd tattoo upon his wrist on display.] Cute, even.

[The pirate adjusts some to avoid sitting on the wispy ends of his hair. He needs a damn hair cut already. The damn thing is too long.]

[afoolsgold]

[The Fool settles back into his seat across from Bastien and tucks the bottle of wine out of sight, lest he invite irritation from Klaus by drinking something other than the cafe's drinks on order.] I do, in point of fact, [he replies lightly, still smiling, and nods into the cafe.] If you have time, you'll see some of my work on display on the far wall there. Klaus has been kind enough to lend me some space in his shop.

[The compliments to his craftsmanship bring a glimmer of pride to his eyes, and he looks from the little carvings on display back to Bastien again.] You mentioned something about a little ship? [he reminds him, inquisitive.] Is that what you wish for me to carve for you?

[shivvymetimbers]

[Unlike this humble artist, Bastien lacks scruples and common sense on a good day. He takes out a small silver flask from his coat pocket and drinks. Best to believe it's wine. Bastien is a shameless drunk.]

I'll be sure to browse before leaving. Unlike most pir--I mean "sailors", I appreciate talents of all kinds. [He confesses after putting the flask away. He's pleasantly buzzed now.]

Oui, oui! I want a nice carving me old ship. A memento, as you would say. [Bastien explains with a faint sigh.] You see, I lost her just a few days ago. Lost her out at sea during a bloody battle that took the lives of most of my crew.

[It's tough for him to talk about this when the memory is still so fresh. Bastien can almost still smell the smoke and fire. Hell, he can still hear the cries of his men as they were burned alive. It's a gruesome memory.]

I want somethin' to remember them by. I want...to honour them.