THE ARTIST (New Intro/Open)

Cold, wet feet, and fingertips burdened with the pain of frostbite, Fane trudged through the blanket of snow that looked like it stretched for miles. The sky was dark and ominous, the overcast of clouds choked any sunlight from shining down on the mountain. There were only a few things that could drive men to scale such a feature. Work, fear, misery. But for Fane, it was a very different sort of reasoning.

He had just recently purchased and set up a tattoo shop in the outskirts of Hosenka, but had put his business on hold just so he could venture out to the ominous Mt. Hakobe once he heard a fascinating story from Clementine. A "guild mark" as she called it—a tattoo given to a people who join a "guild." The way it twisted and turned, and how its lines were interwoven over one circular shape—Fane almost couldn't sit still while thinking about it. More importantly, he wanted one of his own, which eventually led him here. It was absolutely rivetting to think about getting his very own guild tattoo, despite not knowing what a guild really was, but the one thing that the wonderful Clementine failed to mention. . .

"hAhaha! This place is ridiculously cold! I can't feel my fingers." Fane laughed at himself, although the grin stretching his lips didn't match the dread capturing his expression. He had been walking up the mountain for quite some time now. He was wearing a thick, forest green parka jacket and some hiking boots to compliment. On his back was a large cargo backpack. These sorts of bags tended to have a lot of pockets and spaces, and Fane seemed to have made use of each one of them. Not only was it heavy, but the tools inside demanded additional caution when considering their fragility. In his left hand was another, smaller bag, also heavy and full of pockets. As far as he was concerned, these bags consisted of every item he owned.

Needless to say, the mountain stopped rising at some point. It had to. Nearing its peak, Fane could see his destination in the distance if not only because it was the only destination there was to arrive to. The entire time he walked up Mt. Hakobe, his cheeks were hot and pink with both the chill of the perpetual winter and excitement that kept his body acquiver with anticipation. His entire countenance was captured with a wide smile and sharp, green eyes. After all, every time he stepped closer to the castle, he felt closer to the tattoo he was dying to get. He almost couldn't keep himself together while thinking about it!

Rrrr...

Thick, heavy wooden slid open with a sound similar to a pig's dying croak. It was a piercing, unpleasant sound that welcomed Fane into a fortress consumed by darkness. Instantly, his smile disappeared and was replaced with this unimpressed, bewildered expression as he looked around. To his left was empty space he could only see because of the light outside, and to his right was more darkness.

No one's... here? Fane thought to himself. Well, that's how it looked, anyway. He wondered if this was the place that Clementine had mentioned, but what else could there be so high up on this mountain? The stranger didn't mind scaling Mt. Hakobe even further, but as he turned around to look at the snowing skies behind him, he grimaced wryly. "Ah." Fane snickered, "Well, pardon the intrusioooon. . ." Placing his bag on the ground for only a moment, he pushed the door shut to not invite any more of the mountain's chill inside. But now he could hardly see.

"Ehhh. . . Helloooo?"

672/672 † @Fane Howler † job sign-up † job info † notes

Whish!

Braziers that he hadn't noticed before suddenly flickered to life in an instant as their light swept over the room, and it was the snap of fingers that beckoned their illumination. But whose fingers? As soon as the light overwhelmed the darkness, a relatively tall woman appeared the moment it did. She had long, silver hair and wore a long sanguine dress to match her regality. Her skin was ghostly pale and her eyes were a distant, deep blue.

"My name iss Atarah." she said to him smokily. But before Fane could respond, she began to circle him like a beast sizing up their prey, brushing off his shoulders and bombarding him with queries he couldn't answer all at once. ”That musst have been quite the journey from Pergrande? I have made it my sself, in the passt. What iss your name? Are you here for me? Or are you here for the guild?” she'd inquire, Fane following her with his pretty green eyes. Even after Atarah ceased the slew of questions she gave him, a guard captured her attention sooner than Fane could but was dealt with quickly. She sent him away, and again the two were alone together in the incredibly spacious and yet suffocating room. When she smiled at him, he returned the smile but even wider on his lips.

"It's nice to meet you, gorgeous! I'm Fane! And, actually," Fane took his backpack and unzipped it just enough to pull a scroll of paper out, "I heard that you guys give this tattoo to people who come up here. I can get one too, right?" On the paper he unraveled was the Errings Rising guild tattoo he had drawn from memory the day he worked on Clementine in Hosenka. The tattoo was so accurate to the original that the two might as well have been identical. Fane, on the other hand, was eager for her answer. He had traveled farther than most just to receive this tattoo despite being ignorant of what wearing it meant to Fiore.

Ehhh. . . that's a pretty color. . . Fane thought to himself with deep interest when Atarah revealed to him the same marking on her lower arm that was on his scroll. It was white and hard to see against her porcelain skin if you weren't specifically looking for it. He looked at it with soft, serpentine eyes, enamored by it. I wonder what color I should get mine in?

Unfortunately, before Fane could admire the marking any further, Atarah seemed to insist on finding time to settle in before they discussed it any further. ”Let’ss go to the diner insstead, there we can talk. I’ll find ssomeone to inform the guild masster or her advissorss of your pressensse.” she suggested, beginning by leading them to the door in the fortress with an acute sense of direction. Fane trailed closely behind, but unlike the regal Atarah, he was oblivious to the architecture. Pushing a door open, two people obscured and hushed with silence strode out from the room on the other side. To his surprise and by Atarah's command, the weight he had hauled up the mountain had been relieved, and suddenly be felt much lighter as he dropped his bags into their arms.

"Thanks, guys! How nice of you!" Fane praised, briskly patting the carrier's shoulder before and continuing to follow his guide.

She began to lead them down a corridor. Fane could only notice how empty it was. ”Follow me, we have exssellent cookss and any food or drink you can imagen can be made.”

He giggled. "Really?"

Both of them whisked themselves away deeper into the building until they had finally arrived to one of the most comforting scenes Fane had laid eyes on since yesterday. A tavern of decent lighting, filling his lungs with the smell of food. While he could nearly taste the dishes being conjured on a stove or in an oven, he only had thought of eating steamed edamame beans at the time. It never crossed his mind to eat a thoughtful meal when he had the choice. But once they both slipped into their seats, Atarah donned the burning question. Fane's lips transformed into his snaky smile again, his emerald gaze a scrutinizing, charming stare.  

"It's a pretty mark—I like it." he started cutely, laughing as his eyes floated around the room. He seemed easily captivated by things and people, and wondered more about this place and its purpose as he looked around. Why were so many people in middle of nowhere? "But I'm also a tattoo artist, you see. It's how I make a living. I guess you could say it's..." he paused, looking at her arm, "...kind of my thing!"

Atarah seemed more interested in his profession than he had initially noticed. It consequently made Fane even more inquisitive about this strange fortress on top of a barren mountain. But more than anything else, he just wanted a tattoo.He listened carefully as she explained the circumstances surrounding the tattoo. He wasn't very hungry to begin with, but the inconvenience of waiting for his marking killed any appetite he had left.

"I hope they show up soon, then. I'd really love to have this tattoo." Fane responded, a smile grooving his lips. However, when the question of his past came up, he struggled to give her a clear answer. He paused for several moments, stroking his jaw and looking up into the corners of his eyes. "I'd love to tell you, gorgeous, but I haven't been able to remember my past since I woke up like—a week ago! All I know is that my name is Fane Howler, and that I'm the talented medical prodigy—oh, did I tell you that? I'm rather proficient in several medical practices! I just adore fixing people up! Their cuts and tears are just adorable, you know?" Fane was laughing, rambling on about his many talents as both a doctor and a surgeon of many specialties, enamored not only with tattoos but with the injured as well. His expression was airy and lighthearted, but his entire identity was shrouded in mystery, and he didn't seem to give it much thought, to begin with. As far as this strange, friendly man was concerned, he was rather content with living a new life of mystery and uncertainty, ignorant to his past.

Abruptly, the lightness in both his voice and countenance became quiet, and his emerald gaze fixed to Atarah's. "Why, would you like one? A tattoo? I guarantee satisfaction."

WC: 438  Thread Total: 3437
Tag: @Fane Howler , @Atarah

What was normal? When one greets someone else, it is perfectly acceptable and expected to ask how they are doing, but make certain to keep it brief. When doing so, shaking hands or offering gestures of acknowledgement is also part of this social procedure, and this is quite normal. It is also normal to close doors behind you as you walk in, and to make sure to lock them before you leave or sleep. You make sure to pay for your service and to not get caught if you don't. That is also incredibly normal. Sitting down at a table for two like Fane and Atarah had, talking about their mysterious infatuations and the reason behind all of it was also exceptionally normal. But the abrupt thud of a twirling clown landing on said table? That was not normal—that was interesting!

Instead of being shocked or startled, Fane was pleasantly surprised. The second the stranger's feet slapped onto the table, Fane leaned back in his chair and gave him enthusiastic applause. His serpentine expression suddenly lit up in sincere, genuine amazement. "Bravo! Bravo!" he exclaimed, stopping his ovation only to point at Atarah, who sat across from him and was quick to answer the silly stranger's questions. "She said you were coming, and here you are!"

Fane spent no time dawdling with questions he surely had for this stranger, questions about his appearance, his talents for twirling, or if he liked edamame beans over black beans. He abruptly stood up from his seat and retrieved his scroll again, where he had replicated their guild tattoo the day the lovely Clementine showed it to him. It was identical to their own, and impressive considering it was from memory alone.

The snake-like interest returned to his emerald eyes, and his curvy smile plastered across his lips. "Say," he began unscrolling the small canvas, revealing his identical copy to the man, "I heard you give these tattoos to people who ask for it. Can I have one? I'd love to have one!"

WC: 354  Thread Total: 4,534
Tag: @Fane Howler , @Atarah