Session 10
Though the morning had been quiet, though it had been raining since before J.J. had come into Gary's tavern to get some work done, taking advantage of a peaceful lull between Diemon attacks. Unfortunately, the shower outside reflected his dour mood, and the scowl plastered on his face warded off the few other patrons in the bar. J.J. had hit a snag in the latest chapter he had been writing, where he had somehow managed to box himself into a corner in the narrative. While he had managed to flesh out the backstory of the protagonist – a dragon who had been approached by a mysterious girl who had asked him to let her be his dragonrider – he was blanking on the rider's own backstory. He had originally made her a background character, but later decided he liked her character so much that she should be one of the focal points of the story. Now, though, with her increased importance, he felt that he had to give her a solid backstory, and thus, he was stuck.
J.J. caught movement over the top of his computer, and he glanced over it to see a blurry figure approaching him. As a warning, he glared over the rim of the computer until he saw that it was just Gary setting down a fresh plate of fries for him to munch on while he worked. The bartender gazed down at him with a sympathetic expression.
"You look like you're trying too hard," Gary commented.
"Yeah, well, after my last story flopped, I can't afford to have another miss," J.J. pointed out, trying to keep from sighing at having his concentration broken. "Plus, I'm a bit more pressed for time, since I wanted to get ten chapters done before I sent them off to a publisher for review. I'm still stuck on chapter seven, though. I can't live on library wages forever, and the royalties from the book that flopped are dwindling… what few royalties I was collecting to begin with," J.J. added, unable to keep the depression out of his voice.
"You know, you could just write about the monster attacks we've been having," Gary pointed out. "Those are fantastical enough, without even embellishing them."
"Eh… yeah, but I want to be a fantasy writer," J.J. replied hesitantly. "And I don't feel that writing about real life events counts as fantasy, no matter how unbelievable they are." Not to mention, he thought silently, writing about his battles with the Diemons would be incredibly narcissistic, even if he downplayed his own role in the conflict.
"It's your story," Gary shrugged. "But I still think you're overworking yourself. You've seemed rather stressed lately overall. Maybe you should take a break here soon."
"And do what?" J.J. snapped, but then bowed his head in apology and softened his tone. "I mean, that's part of why I come here to write, instead of working at home. I like the people and the atmosphere. It's not as if your tavern stresses me out or something."
"No, and I appreciate that. But I was thinking about closing up shop in a bit here and heading out to the local fair. I also invited most of the regulars to meet up here later, figuring we could make a day of it. Gwen already said she planned on going," he added with a sly smirk at J.J., who cleared his throat and looked away. "And I was thinking of giving Susumu a call and seeing if he and Tristan wanted to come along too."
J.J. stopped typing, looking up at the ceiling as he considered the offer. Before he could reply, though, the door opened, and J.J. stared in surprise at the figure who walked in. The man who strode confidently into the bar seemed far haggard than when J.J. had last seen him. He was wearing a crisp, clean suit that seemed freshly bought. His tan skin no longer had an ashen undertone, the bags under his eyes had faded, and his wavy black hair was now neatly combed on top of his head. He scanned the bar, before his eyes fell on J.J., and he grinned broadly.
"Mr. Wells! I was hoping I'd find you here!" he said cheerfully.
"Agni!" J.J. called out. Though he was obviously surprised to see the man, he was also unable to keep the grin off of his face. "What're you doing here? How'd you know I was here? What happened with the police? I thought you were in jail!"
"Easy, easy, one question at a time," Agni laughed, holding up his hand. "First off, I came looking for you, since I wanted to thank you for everything you did for me."
"Friend of yours?" Gary asked J.J. as Agni took a seat at the table across from him, while J.J. closed his laptop's lid.
"Yeah, I talked him through a few issues he was having," J.J. explained in a half-truth. He shot Agni a quick glance, and the other man nodded in agreement.
"Well, then, welcome to the Cup 'o Dice Tavern!" Gary said with a broad grin, holding his arms out in a welcoming gesture. "If you're looking to game while you're here, we have a wide selection on the shelves by the walls. Feel free to help yourself. In the meantime, can I get you anything?"
"Black tea?" Agni asked. Gary tossed a two-fingered salute and walked off to make the drink, leaving the pair alone.
"Anyways, it wasn't easy tracking you down," Agni explained, settling into a seat across from J.J. who closed the lid of his laptop. "I had to ask around town before someone mentioned that you worked at the library, and although you weren't there, one of your coworkers mentioned that you hang out here a lot. I'm glad I finally managed to find you. I wanted to thank you for saving me," Agni said with a sincere smile.
"Oh! You're welcome, but you really don't have to thank me," J.J. said, feeling a touch embarrassed. "I'm just glad you're feeling better. You haven't wanted to use a D-former again, have you?" he added in a softer voice.
"None," Agni assured him firmly, and J.J. let out a sigh of relief. "After the police arrested me, I had to spend a few days in jail while they set up a trial. In the end, it was decided that, based on my testimony, I was not in control of my actions at the time, and the jury could not in good conscience send me to prison, especially since I didn't know what I was getting into with the D-formers. I've been seeing a therapist for my anger issues, and I'm still on probation, but other than that, things seem to be looking up. I even managed to get hired by a new company."
"That's great!" J.J. said enthusiastically. "Which one?"
"It's a large, local corporation, and they put me in a marketing division," Agni said with a grin. "Which is part of the reason why I wanted to see you again. As thanks for helping me out, I wanted to see what I could do to help you with your writing," Agni said, motioning to his computer. "The head librarian said you'd been having some trouble getting published."
"Oh!" J.J. said, his eyes widening in surprise. "I… I appreciate the offer, Agni, but you don't have to go out of your way to-"
"Think of it as my way of thanking you," Agni insisted. "This isn't troubling me; rather, I want you to think of it as a gift."
J.J. looked away uneasily. "I just… I don't want special treatment because of what I've been doing while wearing that suit. It's an unfair advantage, since it feels like I'm only getting attention because of the monster attacks, rather than getting judged based on how good the book itself is."
"I'm not saying you'll automatically get published," Agni explained. "The publisher wouldn't know anything about your alter-ego. All I'd like to do is put you in contact with some people who can help you get your foot in the door. That's it. Think of me as an agent; I can help you get noticed, but I can't write the book for you. It's something you'd want to do anyways if you seriously intend to be a writer; I'm just pre-emptively offering my services."
J.J. sighed, still feeling a bit uncomfortable, but he gave Agni a wry grin. "I don't have much of a choice in the matter, do I?"
"Hey, you can always say no," Agni said, holding his hands up. "But you'd be stupid to do so."
"Alright, alright," J.J. chuckled, leaning back in the chair. "In that case, I'll just think of it as a gift from a friend. Thank you. Who'd you have in mind?"
"Well… since I figured you'd accept, I actually already invited someone," Agni said. J.J. narrowed his eyes in annoyance as Agni grinned apologetically. "If it makes you feel better, I can assure you he's one of the top-rated publishers in the country."
"Agh… fine, sure, I'll talk to him," J.J. sighed, rubbing his eyes. "Where-?"
The door opened again, and a well-dressed man in his mid-forties stumbled in, blinking around behind a pair of thin glasses. He was balding and stood on the shorter side, made worse by his stooped posture as he looked around warily before spotting Agni and making his way over.
"You did not set up a meeting for right this minute," J.J. hissed.
"Actually, no. I was expecting you a little later, sir," Agni said, standing up and shaking the man's hand. "J.J., this is Mr. Neil Barton. Mr. Barton, this is my friend that I was telling you about, J.J. Wells."
"A pleasure," J.J. said, taking the man's hand, but an uneasy feeling settled over him as the man gave him a curious look.
"Did you say Jay Wells? You wouldn't happen to be the author of The Witch-King of Sember, would you?" the man asked hesitantly. J.J. immediately felt his blood run cold at the question, and he shook his head quickly.
"You're mistaken. My name is J.J., with two 'J's,' not one," he insisted, taking a seat. Deciding to quickly change the subject before Mr. Barton could press him further, he added, "Agni said that you're a publisher?"
"A representative, yes, and we're always looking around for new talent," Mr. Barton replied, setting down his briefcase as he sat across from J.J. "If you have a sample of your writing, I would love to take a look at it, even if it's something incomplete."
"Oh… well, you caught me in the middle of writing a new story, actually," J.J. said, swallowing hard to try and get rid of the lump in his throat. He turned his laptop around and scrolled to the top of the document, allowing Mr. Barton to look through it.
J.J. and Agni sat in silence as the publisher took his time reading what J.J. had written. J.J. nervously munched his fries while trying to avoid looking at Agni, who was trying to catch his eye. Part of his unease was due to his nerves about having his work assessed, but there was another layer behind it. Mr. Barton seemed to already be familiar with him, which had him worried. He just hoped his hunch about who Mr. Barton worked for was wrong.
"Interesting," Mr. Barton said finally, looking up as he finished the first chapter, and he sat back as J.J. took the laptop back, swallowing the lump in his throat. "The concept is an original one, I'll grant you that. The style… it's a bit plain, but you clearly have some good ideas. If we polish the dialogue a bit, we might be able to work something out. Provided that you're open to a bit of criticism and allow for our editors to make necessary changes to allow for better structure and sentence flow."
"I'm open to small changes, yes," J.J. said hesitantly, trying not to sound ungrateful, but there was an edge to his voice. Agni seemed to notice it as well, and he gave J.J. a frown.
"Still… I must say, you do look eerily familiar, young man," Mr. Barton pressed, and J.J. felt his pulse quicken as the man peered at him.
"I don't think we've met," J.J. asserted.
"Mm… well, in any case, here's my card," Mr. Barton said, reaching into his pocket and withdrawing a business card, which J.J. took. As soon as he saw the company name, however, his eyes widened, and he slowly looked up from the card, swallowing again.
"Oh… thank you for your time, Mr. Barton, but I'm afraid that I'm not willing to do business with your company," J.J. said bluntly. Both Agni and the agent stared at him in disbelief.
"J.J.! Mr. Barton went out of his way to come all the way out here!" Agni said, quickly glancing between them. "He doesn't mean-"
"Wait, that's where I've seen you before!" Mr. Barton said suddenly. "Your picture is on the desk of Ms. Penn-!"
"We're done here," J.J. said suddenly, pushing himself up and grabbing his laptop as he did, moving to hurry out the door. "Like I said, thank you for your time-"
"Ms. Penn has been looking for you for months, you know," Mr. Barton said suddenly. J.J. froze where he stood, every muscle in his body taut. "She told us to tell you, if we were to find you, that her offer to publish anything you write is still open, provided that you're open to a little editing."
J.J. slowly turned around, a muscle in his cheek twitching. Slowly, he stalked towards the agent, until he was standing less than a foot from the older man. J.J. drew himself to his full height, towering over the agent. Mr. Barton recoiled in confusion at the enraged look J.J. wore.
"I will never let that… woman lay a finger on anything I write. I wouldn't even let her edit a postcard with my signature on it," J.J. said in a low voice dripping with hostility. He was aware of the shocked looks of the patrons of the bar around him, but he didn't care. "If she were to show up at my house with a check for a ten million dollar publishing deal in her hand, I'd tear it up in front of her and slam the door in her face. I don't want your business, Mr. Barton, and I'd appreciate it if you'd show yourself out."
Mr. Barton sputtered while Agni stared at J.J. in shock. The agent reached out and grabbed J.J. by the arm.
"Now wait just one moment, young man!" Mr. Barton pleaded. "We were specifically told that if we found you, we were to get you in contact with Ms. Penn! You can't-"
J.J. wrenched his arm out of the older man's grasp and was about ready to throw a punch when a large shadow fell over both of them. J.J. and Mr. Barton stopped to look up at the imposing figure of Gary standing over them, his arms folded across his broad chest.
"Sir, you are a guest in my tavern," Gary addressed Mr. Barton a polite but firm tone. "And as such, I will not have you harassing my patrons, especially one of my regulars. See yourself out the door, or I will throw you out myself."
Mr. Barton was about to protest further, but seeing the hostile looks from the other patrons, he coughed and straightened his suit, shooting J.J. one last dirty look before walking out the door in a huff. J.J. slowly flexed his hand, trying to calm down, until Gary's large arm wrapped around his neck and he was pulled into a sudden headlock.
"And you!" Gary boomed as J.J. gagged and struggled against the larger man's grasp. "You know better than to start stirring up trouble in my tavern! What's gotten into you, huh?"
"Ack! Get off!" J.J. choked, only managing to wriggle free of Gary once the larger man released his hold. J.J. rubbed his neck, looking up at Gary with an apologetic look. "Right, yeah… sorry," he said sincerely. "I didn't mean to go off like that."
"I'll forgive it since this is a first-time offense," Gary warned him, swatting J.J. upside the head. "Don't let it happen again. Even if it's you, I don't need people starting fights in my bar."
"I'm sorry!" Agni said quickly, walking over to J.J. with an embarrassed look. "I didn't mean to upset you! If I'd have known you had a past with their company-!"
"Oh, no, I'm not upset with you!" J.J. said quickly, holding up his hands to calm Agni, who looked like he was about to have a nervous breakdown. "Thank you for going out on a limb for me like that and trying to set me up! Honestly, I'm touched. I've just had… very bad experiences with Penn Publishers. But you couldn't have known that. I'm not mad at you, trust me."
"Yeah, well… sorry again," Agni muttered, looking at the floor. "If you don't mind me asking, what happened between you and them?"
"It's not something I'd like to get into," J.J. said firmly, trying to cut off that line of conversation. "It's an old scar that I try not to pick at is all."
"You want me to set up a meeting with a different company?" Agni offered.
"I appreciate the offer, really," J.J. said with a smile. "But you don't have to go out of your way for me. This isn't even on the record, is it?" When Agni nodded reluctantly, J.J. grinned at him. "Then I'd rather hire you properly, instead of treating this as a favor. Tell you what, though. Gary, you were planning a group trip to the fair later, right? Mind if we invite Agni along?"
"Don't see why not. If he's a friend of yours, we'd love to have him," Gary replied with a nonchalant shrug.
"Ah… sure, I'd like that," Agni replied, smiling slightly. "Thanks. But as for getting you a publishing deal-"
"Come on, enough!" J.J. said with a wry grin. "I have to write a book before we talk about that! For now, go home and get changed! You can't go to the fair looking like you're about to attend your daughter's wedding!" Before Agni could protest, J.J. was pushing him lightly towards the door, hoping to deter any further conversation about his writing for the rest of the day.
By mid-afternoon, the sky had turned dark grey, and the clouds overhead occasionally rumbled threateningly, but thankfully no rain fell as the regulars from Gary's tavern wandered down the street towards the city fair. J.J. found himself in a group with Agni, Ryan, and Abby, while Gwen walked beside him as the trio of former Diemons swapped stories with each other, thankfully far enough away from the other members of the group that they couldn't be overheard.
"You really tried to burn down your office?" Ryan asked, an awestruck expression of admiration on his face.
"Yeah… I'm not really proud of it," Agni replied with an uncomfortable look. He had changed into a loose maroon sweatshirt and khakis, which was the first time J.J. had seen him in casual clothing.
"Are you kidding?! That's awesome!" Ryan exclaimed. "Next time I'm taking a test, do you think you could show up and set the basketball courts on fire or something so I can get out of it?"
"You're such a little kid," Abby sighed. Ryan turned and glared at her.
"You're only like three years older than me, so don't act all high and mighty, Miss Queen of the Night," Ryan snapped back.
"Four years, child," Abby said imperiously, unruffled by Ryan's outburst. "There's a gulf of maturity between us as wide as the Atlantic Ocean."
"Which is why, before we left, you were in the corner giggling to yourself about that actor in that stupid vampire movie that's coming out," Ryan shot back.
"That's Zachary Fournier, and the movie is The Wolves of Westhaven! It's one of Cynthia Fawning's best books, and the casting is perfect!" Abby protested, her voice a touch more shrill than she clearly meant for it to be.
"Yeah, totally, it's the book you're interested in," Ryan smirked.
"You are such a brat!" Abby shrieked, chasing after Ryan, who ran off ahead, laughing. Agni gave J.J. and Gwen a sidelong glance when he noticed both were wearing amused expressions.
"So… those two are former Diemons as well?" Agni asked skeptically. "They're… energetic."
"Which is a good thing," J.J. replied. "To me, it's a sign that they've moved past what made them willing to use D-formers in the first place. Or, at the very least, are coping with their issues better. Ryan still has bullies to deal with, and Abby still hasn't found anyone in town who shares more than a passing interest in her fandom, but they both seem happier. Plus, they can pick at each other instead now," J.J. said with a slight grin as he watched Abby chasing after Ryan, threatening him with a dull wooden stake. "And you seem to be doing better as well," he added with a sidelong glance at Agni.
"It's not all roses and sunshine, and there are still days when I have problems controlling my temper," Agni cautioned him, before faintly smiling. "But, yes, overall I'm doing much better. Anyways, enough about the past. We're here to have a good time, so let's focus on doing that."
"At least until it starts raining," Gwen added, casting a wary eye at the overcast sky as they approached the ticketing gate for the fair. The grounds were set up with several tents lining the narrow paths near the entrance, each filled with vendors trying to sell home-made goods like preserves, handicrafts, and artwork. To the west of the little market were a number of food trucks and stalls, while the remainder of the fairground was taken up by attractions like local singers, demonstrations, and a few amusement park rides. Gary's regulars made it through the ticketing line with no issues, and ten minutes later they were walking down a narrow path between the vendors.
"I wanna hit the rides!" Ryan announced immediately, drawing a couple of laughs from his older companions.
"We can do that, though I'm hungry right now, honestly," Agni said, eyeing the food trucks. "Anyone else want to get something?"
"I'll join you for that, Agni," Gary said. "I've been meaning to sample what the competition has to offer anyways."
"Competition?" J.J. asked in a slightly worried tone.
"I'm not being put out of business, don't worry!" Gary said placatingly as he saw J.J.'s look of concern. "But there's an annual cooking competition later this year, and I want to get a leg up on what the other vendors are making before I decide what I want to enter."
"You do that. In the meantime, I intend to browse the art gallery," Abby said, having regained her composure enough to resume her usual mystical tone of voice. J.J. saw Ryan stick his tongue out at her, and he noted that she was still breathing heavily from chasing him. This time, though, she ignored him and wandered off to look through the tents in the marketplace.
"And what do you want to do?" Gwen asked, looking up at J.J. The writer chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment, considering his options.
"Honestly? It sounds more fun to just wander around, see if anything in particular catches our eye. I'm not feeling the rides right now, and I'm not all that hungry. Though if there's something you want to buy, I'll be happy to get it for you."
"You're sweet," Gwen smiled up at him, wrapping her arms around one of his and lightly clinging to him. J.J. felt a thrill run through his body, and he smiled back at her faintly as they began wandering through the tents, occasionally stopping in to paw at some of the wares. J.J. was particularly drawn to a set of designer pens, while Gwen was intrigued by a leather bag with a swirling pattern on it. In the end, though, they didn't buy anything, and as they left the market square, they found themselves making their way towards a stage.
"You know… you've changed a bit," Gwen commented, glancing up to peer at J.J.'s face, who responded by looking down at her with a surprised expression.
"How so?" he asked.
"You're carrying yourself differently. You seem to be more self-confident. I mean, you were never exactly timid, but you always seemed to hunch over a bit, almost like you were afraid to stand up straight. Now you're walking with your head a little higher," she explained.
"I hadn't noticed," J.J. admitted.
"I like it," Gwen added with an impish grin. J.J. felt his ears flush with heat, and he grinned back at her mischievously. Before he could respond, though, a garish figure began approaching them from near one of the tents, drawing their attention.
The man striding towards them was dressed like a harlequin, wearing a tight one-piece outfit decorated with a multicolored diamond-shaped pattern. His upturned shoes had gold bells at the tips, as did his downturned, pointed hat. A wooden sword hung from his belt, tucked into it without a sheath, and the bronze buckle itself was shaped like a diamond. His face was obscured by a bronze comedy mask, hiding his identity. The man almost seemed to be skipping towards them, and as he drew closer, J.J. felt chills run up his body as high-pitched, hysterical laughter filled the air.
"Oooh, what have we here?" the man cackled. As he drew close, he began to saunter around them, stroking the chin of his mask. "A white-haired princess and her protector? No, this 'protector' is merely a boy. It can't protect anything yet, now can it?"
"Ah… can we… help you?" J.J. asked uncomfortably, eyeing the jester with a quirked brow. Beside him, he felt Gwen's hands squeeze his arm even more tightly.
"I hate clowns," she whispered.
"Aww, the princess doesn't seem to like us very much, does she?" the jester mocked her. He put his face close to hers, tilting it back and forth as she tried to hide behind J.J.'s lean form. "Does the maiden fair fear the fool who frolics at the fair?"
"We're not tipping you for this performance," J.J. quipped, backing away from the clown. In response, the jester raised his head and fixed his eyes on J.J. instead.
"Oh, it puts on a brave face, wearing a mask of humor like us!" the jester commented, still circling around them. "Yet it wears a smirk, not a smile. Or a sneer? A scowl, perhaps, when faced with what it fears? Yet it does not show its true face, any more than we do, does it? Tell us, what is its favorite mask?"
J.J. felt himself shivering as the jester's face loomed in his vision, his body uncomfortably close. He felt Gwen's grip on his arm tighten as the jester stared at him, before pulling back suddenly, holding something up. J.J.'s eyes widened in surprise and horror as he saw the jester had pickpocketed his diary.
"Give that back!" J.J. snapped, snatching for the book, but the clown giggled and danced backwards, opening the book up and flipping idly through the pages.
"Perhaps we can find its mask here? Oooh, it seems this one is an artist!" the jester squealed, turning the pages slowly while swaying out of J.J.'s reach as the writer kept grabbing for him. "Look at all the scary monsters it's drawn! It even describes them! Is it not bright enough to simply remember what a monster can and cannot do? What a fool it must be if it cannot understand that an orc would be strong!"
J.J. felt his ears getting red as he shook off Gwen's arm, growling as he reached out and grabbed the clown's arm. The jester calmly stood still as J.J. yanked the diary out of the his hand, though J.J. got the impression that it was only because the jester allowed him to take it.
"Awww, it takes itself so seriously! Though it wears many masks, do the masks slip when it loses composure? Is its true face merely anger? So very boring if that's so," the jester sighed in disappointment, shaking his head and folding his arms. "It should learn to have some fun! Ah, this fool has a suggestion! It likes art, does it not? Then it should visit that tent," the clown said, pointing towards a stall near the end of the row.
"…Dare I ask why?" J.J. growled, stuffing his diary back into his jeans as Gwen grabbed his arm again for comfort.
"We know not. Dare it? It is the only one that can dare!" the jester laughed hysterically. "It values art, so it should watch a master handle his tools! And by viewing the master's art, perhaps it will find its temper cooled! Then perhaps it will return to enjoy the japes of this fool!" The jester cackled again and strutted away from them, nimbly diving into the crowd and disappearing from view.
"…What the hell was that about?" J.J. asked rhetorically. Beside him, he could feel Gwen shaking as she gripped his arm, tightly enough that it was almost hurting. "Are you alright?" he added softly, gently nudging her.
"I really hate clowns," Gwen shivered, staring into the crowd where the jester had disappeared. "I have ever since I was young."
"It's alright," J.J. said, pulling her a bit closer into a light hug as he felt her trembling start to stop. "At least he's gone now."
"Yeah… yeah," she muttered, burying her face in his chest for a moment before taking a deep breath and pulling back to look up at him. "Anyways, I am curious about what's so special about that tent. Shall we?"
"Not sure if we should take advice from someone that creepy, but it's not like we're doing anything else," J.J. said with a wry smile down at her. Gwen let out a short laugh and took his hand, pulling him towards the indicated tent.
As they peered inside, they saw that a small crowd was gathered in a semi-circle around a young man standing in front of a block of ice, diligently working it with a hammer and chisel. Surrounding him were gorgeous ice sculptures, some of the most realistic J.J. had ever seen. In particular, he was fascinated by a sculpture of a bear, two young women, and an elaborate sculpture of a winged heart surrounded by two ascending waves of water. From the way the artist was chiseling at the ice, he was apparently making a third sculpture of one of the young women in the front.
"These are good," Gwen commented, peering at the bear statue. "He's got some talent for this."
"Stay away from that, miss," the young man said, glancing up. The artist in question was a Caucasian man in his early twenties with brown eyes and a bald head covered by a navy blue bandana. He nodded to the bear statue and added, "I don't like anyone touching my work. It makes it melt faster, and I like to keep them up for as long as I can."
"Then why not sculpt with another material?" J.J. pointed out. "Clay or marble would last forever, you know."
"Because I like the challenge of finishing a sculpture before the ice melts," the young man replied shortly. "Now stop distracting me," he added, pausing to gaze intently at a young woman in the front row for a few seconds. He then resumed chipping away at the ice, pausing to run his hand over the face to smooth out some of the features with the heat of his palm. J.J. noticed that he wasn't wearing gloves as he did this.
"Isn't that cold?" he murmured to Gwen under his breath.
"Mm… his hands are probably made of leather by now, if he constantly does that," Gwen pointed out. "I'm more impressed by how quickly he's finishing that sculpture."
They watched quietly for five more minutes as the sculptor continued working, smoothing out the details in the face and the hair with his bare hands. Finally, he stepped away from it, revealing the woman's torso, standing demurely with her hands folded, her hair seeming to be in mid-wave while she smiled at the crowd. The audience let out a collective murmur of awe and began applauding while the artist smirked and bowed, before pulling his bandana off of his hands and wiping them off.
"That'll be three hundred dollars," he announced. J.J.'s eyes widened at the exorbitant price, but the auburn-haired young woman stepped forward, handing him her credit card, which he ran through a touchpad device.
"Three hundred dollars?!" J.J. whispered to the woman, staring at her. "For a sculpture that you can't even take home, and that's going to melt in an hour?!"
"Well… yeah, but look at how beautiful it is," the woman shrugged. "No one's ever made me look that gorgeous before. It's worth the price."
"Must be nice to have that much disposable income," J.J. muttered as the woman took her credit card back and wandered off. The crowd likewise began to disperse, leaving the center of the tent clear for J.J. and Gwen to approach the young man.
"These sculptures are impressive," J.J. commented, keeping his hands in his pockets to avoid upsetting the young man. "What's your name?"
"Peter," the artist said, holding out his hand for J.J. to shake, which the writer took. J.J. winced, shivering as he felt how cold the man's palm was, and he quickly let go of the sculptor's hand, shaking it. J.J. examined his palm and noticed that it had already turned red, as if he'd been holding an ice cube for several minutes.
"J.J. Pleasure to meet you," J.J. replied, taking a moment to breathe on his hand to warm it up. "So, how long have you been doing this?"
"Not long," Peter replied evasively, looking at the sculpture of the young lady he'd just completed. "It's something that I only started pursuing seriously recently."
"Really? With your talent? These are so lifelike," Gwen said, walking slowly around the bear statue.
"Well, my father was a sculptor, but I never really had much interest. He was good, but he never brought in much money," Peter said.
"Which is why you're charging people so much?" J.J. asked, unable to keep the disapproval out of his voice.
"Hey, don't judge me! I have to eat!" the sculptor snapped. "You probably don't know what it's like to have to live off of your art."
"Struggling writer right here," J.J. replied curtly. "I know exactly what it's like. Until recently, I couldn't even afford my own apartment."
"Oh," Peter said, deflating for a moment before rounding on him anew. "Then you of all people should know how hard it is to make a living at this!"
"Fine, fine, take it easy," J.J. said, holding up his hands. "I'm just saying, it's a little weird that you're charging so much just at a local fair. I could understand if you were trying to win sculpting competition or something, but three hundred dollars for an ice sculpture at a fair just seems a bit pricey is all."
"I didn't hold a gun to their head and say they had to pay for it," Peter pointed out, glaring at J.J. "I told them I'd sculpt them if they paid, and they agreed. Nothing illegal about that."
"Alright, alright, sorry," J.J. said, slightly taken aback by the man's hostility. "Do you mind if I ask you to commission a sculpture as well?"
"Of who?" the young man huffed.
"Gwen here?" J.J. asked, putting his hands on Gwen's shoulders. The blond-haired girl looked up at him, her eyes widening in surprise.
"You don't have to-!" she protested, but J.J. smiled down at her.
"It's fine. I want to see how well he can capture your beauty," J.J. purred to her, before grinning down at her mischievously. She swatted at him, unable to keep her cheeks from flushing.
"You two are going to make me sick," Peter snarled. "Fine. Five hundred dollars," he added. "Because you ticked me off."
"Are you trying to drive away business?" J.J. countered, smirking. "If you're starving like you say you are, you can't be chasing away customers like that. One hundred dollars."
"Look, let's cut to the chase. I'll give you the same deal I gave that other lady. Three hundred," Peter said. J.J. nodded, and Peter hefted a new block of ice out of a cooler, grunting. J.J. noticed once again that he wasn't wearing gloves.
"Aren't you cold?" J.J. asked, finding that he was growing increasingly suspicious.
"You get used to it. Are you done pestering me so I can work?" Peter snapped. J.J. held up his hands again, standing back as the sculptor got to work, starting to rub down the ice with his palms.
"You said that you didn't start sculpting until recently, but your technique suggests otherwise," Gwen said after a while of watching him chisel at some of the ice. "Why didn't you pick it up until now?"
"Because I didn't think I'd be good enough at it to make any money," Peter sighed.
"So what changed your mind?" J.J. asked, starting to feel his stomach sink as he suspected he knew the answer.
"If you must know, I was approached by this guy in black-" Peter began. J.J. and Gwen traded looks, and J.J. immediately slipped his hand into his pocket for his diary.
"He was wearing a mask, and he gave you a piece of paper and a crystal that he said would let you sculpt well enough to make a living at it, right?" J.J. interrupted, narrowing his eyes. Peter's own eyes widened as he looked back and forth between the pair suspiciously.
"Yeah… how did you know that?" Peter asked, starting to back away from the half-finished sculpture.
"We're familiar with this sort of thing," J.J. said. "What does that crystal do?"
"It… lets me mold ice as I please," Peter muttered, starting to back away slowly. "Why're you accusing me? I didn't do anything wrong!"
"Then why're you acting like you did?" J.J. pointed out. He could feel anger rising in him. "Be honest, do you even know how to sculpt, or are you just using the D-former to make the sculptures while pretending you know how to?"
"What does it matter?" Peter shot back, slipping his own hand into his pocket, where J.J. suspected he had his D-former. "If I'm giving people what they want, what does it matter how I did it?"
"Because you're a fraud!" J.J. shouted suddenlyi. "You didn't bother taking the time to learn the skills that'd let you be a good sculptor, which is spitting in the face of every sculptor that did! What's worse, you have the audacity to charge people for these… fakes! You're basically printing them a copy of the Mona Lisa and claiming it's the real thing! Is that all sculpting is to you? Just a way to make money?!"
"J.J., calm down," Gwen whispered. "You're gonna upset him, and we'll have a Diemon on our hands."
"Honestly, right now, I'd welcome that," J.J. hissed. "I'd love an excuse to beat this guy down."
"What's gotten into you?" Gwen murmured. Before they could say anything else to each other however, Peter gripped the D-former even more tightly, and was engulfed in a flash of bluish-white light.
"I'm not going to stand here and let you talk down to me like that!" Peter yelled as his body began to mutate. "You've got no right to look down on my work! It's the what I make that matters, not the method I used to make it! And if you don't like it… well, there are ways to deal with critics!"
As the light faded, ice began to creep up Peter's body, forming an irregular coating as it spread across him. His body began to grow as well, though it stopped before he reached the same height as Dr. Newman's minotaur form. His body became boxy and bulky, and his face seemed to be carved with holes for a mouth and a pair of sunken eyes, almost resembling the faces of the Shards. When he finished growing, he took a swing at J.J. and Gwen, the former of which grabbed the latter and dove out of the way with her.
"Great, J.J., perfect! You couldn't have just… I dunno, tackled him and grabbed the D-former before he could use it?!" Gwen snapped at him as she climbed to her feet.
J.J. ignored her, pulling his diary out of his jeans and holding it up to his left cheek as he knelt in front of the ice monster. "Gwen, do me a favor and step back! Henshin!" he shouted as he snapped the book shut while his Driver appeared around his waist. Once Gwen had backed out of the tent, he slotted the book and spun the central D-former, stepping closer to Peter as he did so, a vicious smirk on his lips.
"Adventure: Begin!" the driver shouted before trumpets played. J.J. was surrounded by the familiar amber crystal as it began to spin around him and his body was garbed in his leather armor. The spinning die expanded to the point where it connected with Peter's frozen body, sending him flying backwards and entangling him in the tent, just as J.J. had hoped it would. Peter let out a roar of fury as he tried to disentangle himself from the cloth tent as J.J.'s quill flew into his hand and he clicked the bottom to extend it out into its sword form.
While Peter was lying on the ground, still struggling to get himself free, J.J. took advantage of his helpless state to slash at his prone form repeatedly with deep, wild slashes that left jagged gashes in his icy carapace. He was able to press his attack for a good thirty seconds before Peter finally managed to tear the remnants of the tent off of him. His heavy fist swung at J.J.'s unprotected side, and J.J. let out a loud grunt of pain as he was thrown twenty feet to the side, landing heavily on the grass and rolling to break his momentum before skidding to a crouching position. As he watched, he saw that the slashes he had left in Peter's icy body were already beginning to close. Above him, he heard an ominous rumble of thunder.
J.J. quickly pulled his diary off his belt and flipped it open while Peter struggled to his feet. With the pause in combat, he flipped to his own stats page to check the damage he'd taken. Thankfully, the blow had been glancing, and he had plenty of his own health left, so maybe Peter wasn't as strong as he'd first feared.
A moment later, he heard a scream behind him, and he glanced behind him to see a woman hurrying off with her child. The scream attracted more attention, and people both began rushing towards the scene and fleeing from it. Those that stayed recognized J.J.'s transformed state and began pointing and cheering.
"That's Kamen Rider Page!" "Beat that monster down!" "You've got this, Page!" he heard people yell.
"Idiots! Why would you run towards a fight like this?" he growled to himself. He saw Agni, Ryan, and Abby near the front of the crowd, the trio watching him beside Gwen. "Guys, get the people out of here!" he shouted to them. A roar of fury, however, drew his attention back to the fight at hand, and he jumped backwards just as Peter's icy fist slammed into the ground in front of him.
"Not very fast. Good," J.J. muttered under his breath, putting his hand on his black D-former and giving it a quick spin.
"Reroll! Class: Mage!" the Driver shouted, the sound of chimes filling the air as he was enveloped in an opal-colored crystal. When it dissipated, he was wearing his black mage garb, and he gave his staff a quick twirl before pointing it at the Diemon.
Drawing on the anger he'd been feeling for the last ten minutes, he had no problems conjuring a stream of flame, which immediately began to burn away at the monster's icy shell. It didn't take a genius to figure out the element this Diemon would be weak to, after all. Peter began to lumber away from him as quickly as he could, but J.J. kept pressing forward, keeping far enough away that Peter couldn't swing at him, but close enough that he could press his fiery attack on Peter. As his outer shell began to melt, a smirk spread across J.J.'s lips.
Suddenly, he suddenly felt his ankle tugged out from under him, and he fell to the ground, the flame sputtering out. Sitting up a bit, his eyes widened with fear as he saw that he'd been grabbed by one of the ice sculptures Peter had made, specifically the young woman he'd sculpted before Gwen. What made it particularly disturbing was the fact that Peter had only sculpted the upper half of its body, so it had crawled on the ground towards J.J. to grab him and pull him down. It began to drag itself up his body, icy fingers digging into his suit, its mouth opening to reveal jagged, icy teeth that would sink into his body. Out of reflex, J.J. bashed it across the face with his staff, knocking it off of him as he climbed to his feet. Before it could recover, he torched it with a quick burst of flame, leaving a puddle on the wet grass.
J.J. quickly turned around, scanning the area, and saw the ice bear charging towards him, mouth open in a silent roar. J.J. tightened his grip on his staff and loosed a fireball at it, impacting the charging bear and taking out one of its forepaws. The bear collapsed, rolling along the ground, and J.J. loosed another burst of flame at it, melting it as well. While he was distracted, however, he felt a hammer blow on the back of his head, and he groaned in pain as he was sent to the ground. Before he could stand up again, a heavy fist slammed into his back, pinning him to the grass, and the wind was knocked out of him, though he managed to keep his hold on his weapon. He could hear Peter chuckling above him.
"I'm gonna break you for melting my work," Peter hissed to him, drawing his fist back. J.J. tightened his grip on his staff, however, and managed to angle it enough to loose a burst of flame directly into Peter's face. The Diemon let out a scream and staggered backwards, clutching his face as J.J. slowly rose to his feet.
"They look better as puddles of water," J.J. quipped at him, panting. "Though honestly, a bucket of ice cubes would be better art than those fake sculptures you made. At least that'd be real."
J.J. resumed the relentless attack on Peter, advancing on him once again with a constant stream of flame that sent the monster reeling. However, J.J. could feel his energy quickly running out, and he figured he may as well end the fight before he was too drained to continue. He stopped casting the fire for a moment and once again spun the black D-former on his belt while Peter struggled to stay on his feet, furiously swiping at the flames dancing on his frigid body.
"Critical!" the belt shouted, and a black die surrounded J.J. again before it shrank and began spinning near the tip of his staff. J.J. felt energy collecting in that spot, and he gathered as much as he could while Peter struggled to pat the flames off of his icy body. When he finally looked up, J.J. unleashed the collected energy all at once. A series of fireballs flew out of the tip of J.J.'s staff, impacting with Peter's body with the force of cannonballs. The monster staggered backwards as each one slammed into him, and J.J. finished the barrage of eight fireballs with a final, larger fireball that connected with Peter's face. Peter fell to the ground, as J.J. sagged, panting and leaning on his staff.
To his surprise, however, Peter laid on the ground, groaning in pain, but still in his Diemon form. J.J. grunted and slowly straightened himself up, wondering if he hadn't hit Peter hard enough, or if he'd tried to use his Critical Attack too early. Peter sat up as J.J. pointed his staff at him. Both froze, however, as they were interrupted by a cackling laugh.
The jester from before was watching them, perched on a nearby trunk with his legs crossed and his head supported by his hand. "Oooh, it knows a few flashy tricks!" the jester mocked J.J. "But it's still flailing around without a true sense for its own power, or the power of its opponent, isn't it? It doesn't know when it's won, does it? Clearly it needs more training. Ah, and ending this show now would be boring. Let's keep it going!"
The jester stood up, but before he could do anything, J.J. let out a yell and resumed unleashing a torrent of flame at Peter, who screamed in pain. J.J. wasn't sure what the jester was about to do, but he had an instinctual realization that he needed to end the fight before anything else happened. However, the stream of flame he directed at Peter was far weaker than his previous blasts, and he could tell it wasn't doing nearly as much damage. Meanwhile, the jester pointed his finger at the sky, and a stream of blue lightning spread across the overhanging clouds. A moment later, a few drops of rain began falling, and then a steady downpour began.
J.J. kept pushing the attack, but he was already drained, and the rain was making the stream of fire weaker, before finally sputtering out completely as J.J. felt himself becoming completely exhausted. As he watched in horror, Peter's icy body began to reconstitute itself, and slowly he pushed himself up. J.J. leapt backwards just as Peter swung his fist at him, and he landed softly on the wet grass, panting. Peter, however, put both hands on the wet earth, and in an instant, the ground was frozen solid around J.J's ankles. The writer grunted as he tried to pull his legs free, but as Peter plodded towards him, he realized his efforts were futile. In a last-ditch effort, he put his hand on the spine of his diary again and spun the red D-former.
"Reroll! Class: Warrior!" the Driver shouted, and J.J. was surrounded by a ruby crystal as war drums played. Peter drew his fist back just as the die dissipated, and J.J. brought his own hammer around to counter the blow. The head of his hammer impacted with Peter's fist, and the attacks collided with a deafening boom, sending both fighters reeling, each ending up on their backs. J.J.'s legs were forcibly pulled free and he skidded across the frozen ground, his arms shaking and numb, but otherwise unharmed.
"Oh-ho! It does have moments where it can think on its feet!" the jester applauded as J.J. laid on the ground, panting. "Ah, and the sculptor lost his chance to win. This will just be a brawl now, which is no fun. Come along, child!" the jester said, skipping across the frozen grass towards Peter's prone form. With one hand, he grabbed the Diemon by the back of the head, announcing to Peter, "If we keep this going, you'll be beaten too soon, and that jewel you were given will go to waste. You have so much more art to create before then, don't you?"
J.J. was too tired to do anything but watch in disbelief as the jester effortlessly dragged the ice monster away from the scene as though he was dragging a teddy bear across the icy ground. The pair disappeared shortly after they hit the nearby treeline, leaving J.J. lay his head back on ground, panting and struggling to slow his heart and catch his breath. His arms were still numb, his bruises were throbbing, and he felt as if he'd run several miles. This was the hardest fight he'd had in a while, he mused. He hadn't felt this beaten up since he'd first fought Ryan.
As he slowly climbed to his feet, the crowd began cheering, but their cheers were hollow in J.J.'s ears. That hadn't been a win; at best, it had been a draw. Plus, the jester continued to vex him. What was his game? He had to be working for the one creating Diemons, but what was their goal? And why did he seem more interested in the spectacle of J.J. fighting rather than seeing him defeated, if J.J. was actually a roadblock to whatever their goals were? Or was J.J. thinking too highly of himself by even assuming he was a thorn in their side?
J.J. was snapped out of his thoughts as Gwen, Agni, Ryan, and Abby ran towards him. Gwen was the first to reach him, a furious look on her face. She shoved him roughly, and J.J. was too exhausted to do anything but stumble back a few steps.
"What's gotten into you?!" she berated him, getting right in his masked face. J.J. looked away, unable to meet her eyes. "You could have resolved that without fighting! Since when do you think you can go around picking fights?!"
"Gwen, calm down," Agni said, putting his hands on her shoulders to pull her back. "I'm sure J.J. had his reasons."
"I do," J.J. said softly, turning to look back at Gwen. "But I don't feel like sharing them right now. What I want to do now is rest, study up on what that Peter guy can do, and figure out a way to beat him next time."
"Next time?!" Gwen repeated, grabbing J.J. by his collar. "There shouldn't be a next time! You're way too eager to fight this guy! This isn't just about stopping a Diemon! You're taking something about him personally!"
"So what if I am?!" J.J. shot back, suddenly towering over her. Gwen flinched back, a look of fright on her face. "I've actually got a reason to fight this time! That should be a good thing, that I actually want to keep people safe for a change, rather than just feeling obligated to do it because I have these powers!"
"Do you really want to keep people safe, though?" Abby pointed out softly, surprising J.J. "Or do you just want to beat someone that ticked you off?"
"And you feel obligated to help others?" Ryan asked as well. "So did you only save us because you felt obligated to, not because you wanted to help us?"
"I… what, no, that's not what I meant," J.J. stammered, but Ryan's hurt expression made the words die in his throat. He sighed, putting his hand over his face.
"Look… sorry, this guy in particular just really got to me. And I don't want to discuss it right now," J.J. said. "Right now, I just want to get out of here and think things over."
"Fine," Gwen said shortly, looking away from him. Before he could say anything else, she turned around and stormed off, her hair whipping behind her in the wind as the rain drenched her small figure.
"Come on, let's get out of here," Agni said, clasping J.J.'s red-suited shoulder. "Find a place to de-morph, then take the rest of the day off. I don't think you'll have to worry about a rematch at least until tomorrow. It takes time for a Diemon to get itself back into fighting shape after it's beaten down like you just did to that one. Trust me on that."
"Good," J.J. said shortly, gently pushing his way past the crowd of admirers trying to talk to him. He knew Gwen was right, that he needed to get his head on straight. However, this was a fight that he was taking personally, and he couldn't just remain calm. The best thing he could do was try and channel the fury he was feeling into finding a way to beat Peter and the jester, before his anger came back to bite him.