*/*/*


Diversion and Dalliance

"Are we sure about this?" Vesli wanted to know that everyone was willing and capable.

"Want activity privileges back. Need time to relax," Bird answered him.

"Agreed. While I may have recovered from that blank spot in my memory, I can tell you three are still twitching at noises," Caillot observed as he ensured his skull was safely secured.

"I miss the brothel," Aela sniffed.

Vesli just gave the hellion a look before sighing. He needed stress relief himself. The Sanitarium was haunting the dark corners of his mind. Making It unhappy. "Alright. I found us a short scouting mission in one of the tamer sections of the Ruins. It's usually the type of work accepted by the new bloods. But the Caretaker never said what type of mission we had to succeed at."

"Then let us hope he doesn't think this is too devious of us," Caillot murmured.

*/*/*

The Ruins expedition went as normal and tame as an expedition on this cursed ground could go. By some miracle of the Light or blessing of a dark god the Caretaker only scowled at them. "Seems you met my requirements. Your punishment is lifted. The activities of the Hamlet are open to you. Be glad I feel merciful."

"Yes sir," the group quickly escaped before he could change his mind. Once back in the Hamlet proper, there was a collective sigh of relief.

"Spirits, this is going to feel good!" Aela quickly left towards the Tavern. The other three didn't follow, having no interest in that.

"Will see you later," Bird wandered off. How the Doctor managed to vanish like she did, Vesli would never understand.

The man himself rolled his shoulders. "Caillot," he nodded to the Occultist before plodding away.

The lone Occultist stood there for a moment, wondering what to do with himself. "Well, I suppose I could relax as well. Not much else to do around here. I must need it if I'm talking to myself." With that, Caillot went his own way.

*/*/*

The doors of the Tavern burst open with a resounding bang! "Did you miss me? I'll bet you missed me!" Aela crowed. The attendant at the door to the brothel gave a sensual smile.

"Aela," her name was a caressing purr "What's kept our most beloved customer away?"

"The Caretaker banned my team from Hamlet activities. Can you believe it?" The Hellion made her way over to the books, scribbling herself into a slot and depositing the income from the latest expedition.

"Oh, you poor thing. As you are quite a favorite, I'll cut you a discount this time around. Just don't tell on me," this was accented with a wink.

"I wouldn't dream of it."

"I know, Aela dearest. So, whom shall it be this time?" A gesture to the eager faces waiting inside the Brothel. "Or will it be several someones?"

"You wouldn't be available, would you?

"Naughty girl. You know I'm quite busy here."

"Then I choose you, you, you, AND you," Aela brushed her hand lightly over her companions "It's been a rough week."

"But of course, Aela dear. Have fun~"

"Don't we always?"

*/*/*

The fine tip of a horse-hair brush the size of a pencil dipped into a well of crimson. A steady hand directed the paint to precise areas, adding in the bright color in detailed intricate work. This was perhaps the only time Veci was truly silent. The air felt good on her face, though she did long for the herbs housed in the beak of her mask. The smell of paint could be overpowering sometimes.

Her clean hand moved a stray bit of hair behind her ear when it insisted on getting in her face. Probably would have to cut it again soon. The paintbrush in her hand withdrew from the canvas. Her head tilted clockwise as she considered her progress. Veci gave a slight pout at the picture. There was something wrong with the eyes. Not enough life to them. Eyes were always the hardest in her opinion. That's why she normally stuck to painting inanimate objects. Veci didn't have to worry about giving those pictures a soul. The Doctor set her brush down and stepped back, deciding a change of view might offer solutions to the issue.

How did other artists accomplish it? No, that wasn't the right question. Veci knew her techniques backwards and forwards. Instilling life into a picture wasn't about that. It was about infusing emotion into the work, and that simply couldn't be taught. Perhaps then it was the subject of the portrait that gave her issues? A possibility. She was still processing her own emotions on that front, let alone being close to understanding the other view. Therefore, it was likely that this conflict was further preventing her goal.

Veci picked her paintbrush back up before resuming detail work that had nothing to do with the eyes that looked too flat. For now, she'd leave it be. Perhaps a break and further processing of her thoughts and emotions would allow her to fix them. Later.

*/*/*

There was a relatively safe patch of woods near enough to the Hamlet to provide comfort but far enough that Vesli would be undisturbed except by those who were looking for him. The solitude and more peaceful nature around them soothed both man and beast. Vesli could sense It going from bristling to irritated to grumpy to finally a vaguely annoyed huff resounded in Vesli's mind.

"You are so dramatic," he informed the creature. His answer was It ignoring him. Instead, It focused on the rustling of nearby foliage. "Too small to be a person or one of the creatures of the dark." Despite the reassurance, Vesli's eyes remained fixed in the direction of the rustling. How was his stress to go down if there were things disturbing him? Naturally, It suggested investigation. "Fine. If only so I can put it out of my head and actually relax," the man grumbled as he stood. They stalked towards the noise and picking up a stick, used that to push the bushes aside. Then the blinked. Once. Twice.

"Mew?" The intruder blinked at them.

"How? Just… how?" Vesli picked up the scraggly creature that resembled a kitten. Because surely it wasn't one. For one, the Hamlet was too cruel a place to allow something like a kitten to survive. Second, there was no way this thing with its fur pointing out jaggedly in all directions was a kitten. Probably wasn't even a feline. An appendage that resembled a paw batted at Vesli's face. "What even are you? How are you not eaten?"

"Maow."

"That is not a helpful answer." Vesli wondered what to do with this thing. He was mildly surprised when It didn't suggest eating the creature. He was very surprised when instead It wanted to keep this… whatever it was. "Keep it? It's probably diseased." The mysterious thing gave a tiny purr as it batted at Vesli's nose again with its almost-paw appendage. "Don't you try that. I'm not falling for it."

"Meow?"

"Damn it. Fine." He gave the little beast a cursory examination. Thin. Could see and feel bones. Was almost an anatomy lesson. Vesli offered it a little bit of leftover jerky. The miniature monster fell on the meat, eating ravenously. "I'll call you Creature," the man informed the not-kitten.

"Mew."

"Glad we could reach an understanding."

*/*/*

Caillot's fingers absently ran through ginger hair. "Are you petting me?" The lyrical accent of the northern isles questioned.

"Perhaps," the Occultist responded, the difference in accents staggering but not unpleasant. "Is that an issue?"

"I thought we were reading," a book was waved in emphasis. "Did yours get boring?"

"Hardly," Caillot chuckled "Your hair is soft. I can't help it."

"Hmm." Caillot found his head relocated so that his pillow was now a chest. "Fair's fair. You may pet me. But in return you have to stay there." That damned smirk always brought a blush to the Occultist's cheeks.

"Blushing, are we?" A teasing hand traced the blush.

"Oh, be quiet," Caillot buried his face in his book, his newfound chest-pillow vibrating with answering laughter.

"I thought you liked my voice," a false pout that struggled to hide the grin. The Occultist simply grabbed the closest bed pillow and smacked the red head with it who only laughed harder.

*/*/*

Few people would spoke to him, and of those few none would call 'Face' a complex person. Seeing as none of them even knew his actual name, that wasn't saying much. Still, Face would admit to himself he wasn't exactly winning any award for most interesting person any time soon. He spent his time eating, sleeping, training, and going on any missions that the Heir allowed his old bones to accept.

At least the few whelps he'd decided to take under his wing were showing progress. That pleased his old codger's soul.

He still wasn't sure entirely what was up with Vesli, or 'whelp one'. Oh, Face wasn't stupid and he had his guesses, but the old soldier wouldn't voice anything until certain. Still, One was still being a stubborn pig headed brat about favoring his left leg. Not to mention how One kept getting lost in his own thoughts and problems. What the whelp needed was to solve his bloody 'puzzle' more than anything else. A warrior whose problems hounded him day and night soon wound up dead

Whelp two was actually named Darcy who came hand in paw with his hound Alis or whelp two point five. Face had met them a week or two after One. The pair had good teamwork with each other, and that hound's damned teeth hurt like hellfire should they get past armor. But they were still slow in getting to that point. Added to that Two was pathetically weak without his dog, separate them and they went down. Take out two point five and Two was a sitting duck. Problem was that Two was a stubborn brat and refused to listen to him about that.

The most recent addition was whelp three. Neot was the Jester's name, and that ragged red motley the whelp wore belayed a fast and nimble hitter that packed a surprising punch. Three's problem was that the jester had one of the most fragile glass jaws he had ever seen and could usually take only one or two hits before being out of the fight. That said, they were also the luckiest damn bastard he had ever seen and Face was almost positive that they had to sell something to someone to get that bloody lucky.

All in all, the three whelps were slowly becoming acceptable. He'd keep hounding them. Face knew how to push the right buttons and make them push ever harder. Then, maybe just maybe the three would turn into actually decent fighters. If Face could borrow some of Three's luck, and if his stubborn nature had anything to say about it, they'd then become good. This Hamlet was in sore need of good fighters. Honestly, where did the Heir keep finding this rabble? Face was surprised any of them even knew which end of the weapon they were supposed to hold and which was the one they smacked enemies with.

*/*/*

"Vesli, what are you holding?" Man and not-kitten both went into the air.

"By the fucking Light! Bird, please stop doing that!" Vesli held Creature in one hand while holding his chest with the other. "Or I swear I'll side with Aela and vote you being forced to wear a bell! Don't think I won't!"

"Ah. A kitten," Bird observed twiddling her paint-splotched fingers at the offended feline. She paused. Lenses turned to meet his gaze. "What did you call me?"

Whelp. He was dead. Goodbye cruel world, you'll have to find someone else to give your calamari to. "I… I may have called you… Bird," Vesli started to retreat.

"What was that?" Bird was standing at her full height now, lenses locked on his gaze. How was someone shorter than him so terrifying? Vesli blamed dark magic.

"I may have called you… Bird," he woke It, desperately wanting the beast's speed. It took one look at the situation and went 'nope', leaving Vesli to fend for himself. Vesli sent a rude mental gesture Its way.

"Bird," she repeated, the mask tilting slightly counter-clockwise. "Because of my mask."

"Yes. And… other factors."

"Which are?"

"You… talk. A lot. Even to me, and people don't talk to me and you see we were sitting there in the tavern and It thought the name first and-" Vesli was scrambling and shrinking into himself. A light rap of Bird's knuckle against his nose silenced the rushing words.

"And you say I talk a lot," she commented, amusement in her tone. "Breathe. In. Out. Better?" Vesli obeyed and nodded. "Good," Bird continued, "I do not dislike the nickname. However. I have a proposition."

Vesli squirmed uneasily. "And what is that, madam?"

"You may call me Bird. But I get to name It. A real name. Will let It have some say in which one It would like." Bird looked at him expectantly.

Vesli felt like he was signing a contract with a previously undiscovered dark entity. Especially when he nodded. "That seems an acceptable arrangement." Creature looked up at him in silent judgement.

"Excellent. I shall prepare a list." Bird was off, scribbling on her notes rapidly.

Vesli regretted this decision. Maybe Caillot would have advice about having made a deal with an entity far beyond mortal understanding.