A Thousand Reasons

[Syd Croswell-Miklos]

Applying the cream had taken but a moment and the exchange for the brush for the razor was next. "Maybe during another session or after this record is done I could show you the other music. Do you listen to records often," he asked afterwards and then came his mistake. Perhaps he had grown too lax as he had accidently caused a cut. At first panic had welled up within from hurting his client. Cuts did happen from time to time but people always reacted differently and while Lasair struck him as calm throughout all of their other interactions he couldn't be sure what would happen--then he saw it. The trickle of black and his skin paled, scared and in a panic, he pushed backwards. As he fell off the stool and onto his elbows, he dropped the razor and gaped at Lasair. Black blood. Was he seeing things? No, it was certainly there. Pushing on the grounds with his heels, he inched himself backwards then sat up. Still with wide eyes, he studied Lasair. His lips closed several times as if to form words but instead he looked like a fish breathing underwater.

Finally, he forced his gaze from the hand covering the wound to his razor where specks of black had mixed with the cream then back to Lasair's face. Swallowing, he reached out with a trembling hand to grasp the razor then moved to stand. Diverting his gaze to the ground, he held the razor with both his hands in front of him as though he were a child being scolded for doing something terrible. "I-I-I am v-very sorry," he whispered. What if this was some terrible secret he had stumbled on and this man would kill him for it--but then again tattoos bled. Did he know that? Maybe not. Many first timers didn't. He didn't want to die. "I am really sorry," he whispered again and shook his head then licked his lips to moisten them as they had grown dry in his fright. "U-Uhm, c-can I ask... wh-what ails you...?" Was that something he could ask? If he was going to die, he may as well try. If he wasn't, then he really wished to know why in the world this man was bleeding ink.

[Lasair Landevier Lupen]

Lasair’s face scrunched up as Syd fell backwards. While that wasn’t a common reaction to anders, that didn’t mean it was a good one. Fear usually meant they would call for help, call for an EIRAL members. But what Syd did next confused him. He didn’t run, didn’t go searching for help. Instead he…apologized?

With a look of confusion, Lasair turned back towards him and struggled to find words. The encounter with Wern came back to mind. Was it possible that this guy didn’t know about anders either? Yes, it was the only thing that made sense; the only thing that gave an answer for the situation. It even explained why his accent was so heavy. “You haven’t been in the city long, have you?” he asked in a quiet tone. When Syd shook his head, he continued.

“Lodan isn’t like other places. We’ve got uh, a unique history. Magic is real, and certain people can wield it and cast spells. Those people who can are called Anderswelters. But magic isn’t the only thing that makes a person an Ander. There are certain other traits that can give someone away as one. Black blood is one of those things.” He removed his hand from his chest then, allowing the blood to be seen again. “The city hasn’t been too accepting of anders. They’re treated like dirt and there are lots of people who just want them gone.” As he finished speaking, he lowered his eyes to the ground. His expression had faded to one void of emotions; a blank expression. Syd would find out about anders at some point if he lived here long enough. Lasair was grateful that he could be the one to share the information, however. Hopefully it meant one less person who would join in the hate crimes against his kind.

[Syd Croswell-Miklos]

Syd stood there frozen for a moment then made a slow, hesitant approach to Lasair. Picking up the stool that had toppled over when he fell, he set it upright once more, sought out a towel, returned, and sat. The distance between himself and the other was considerably closer but he did not mind that. Rather than simply returning to work, he dabbed at the blood then held it over the cut for a moment. All the while, the freckled Ronuvian busied himself with chewing heavily on his lower lip. The silence that fell between them ate at him despite the music still playing so somberly in the background. It was Beethoven's Moonlight Sonada.

"I knew a man once," he began, still whispering and unable to really find his voice. Syd couldn't meet Lasair's eyes. Instead he focused on where his hand held the towel over the wound. "We called him Wizard. He did not bleed black though." Falling silent at that, the artist hung his head then continued, "Many were scared of him--rumors surfaced he drank blood... that it sustained him. He used to say he could turn into a bat but I never saw it though his eyes used to glow in the dark--it was quite frightening." And then he smiled but there was no mirth behind it as he looked up. "I used to think he was a vampire. Those stories did originate from my country so it was only logical and we'd scarcely if ever see him during the day so it only made sense. Do you think he is one? People feared him." As he spoke, he'd finally found his voice but it was hardly above the whispers.

Withdrawing the towel and setting it aside, Syd said softly, "I am sorry your kind are treated so poorly. I do not think it is right." This time when he smiled it was nervous and the corners of his lips twitched before the smile faded. He would be more cautious as he lifted the razor to finish Lasair's chest then went to stand so he could re-situate himself behind Lasair to do his back next.

[Lasair Landevier Lupen]

He kept his eyes on Syd as the other moved slowly, picking up the stool, and then finding a towel. While Lasair could just magically heal the cut on his chest, he didn’t want to. The care and gentleness in the other’s touch was warming and left an odd sort of emotional coldness when it ended.

“Glowing eyes is another trait, so it’s quite possible he was one too. Anders with glowing eyes could also have claws on their hands… Do you know if he always wore gloves?” He spoke quietly, matching Syd’s own tone in an attempt to comfort him. “The only other trait is a pair of wings on someone’s back. But those can be hidden away with a spell, turning them into markings similar to tattoos on the Ander’s back.” The bit about vampires was fascinating as well; that topic would need to be addressed more when circumstances were different.

Shifting over to allow Syd to reach his back more easily, he added in one last thing. “Thank you. I don’t think it’s right either,” he ended with a small sigh, listening as the music sped up a bit in the song.

[Syd Croswell-Miklos]

"No, he did not wear gloves. His nails were long like claws, yes, but vampires were typically described to have horribly long claws. The only inaccurate description contrasting him from a vampire was that vampires were deemed ugly and he was, well, not," explained Syd as he worked on applying the cream to Lasair's back. "As for tattoos on the back, he had many tattoos--he was my walking canvas, really. He was nice, you know? Even though people feared him. He scared me a lot before--used to call me his 'Ducky' because I followed him around like a duckling tailing after its mother," he admitted with a small laugh as he reached over to set the cream aside for the razor once more. "I am terribly sorry for cutting you. I will do my very best not to do so again. Just be very still, please."

"Mister Lupen, can you tell me more about Andersweltlers? Are you born that way or are the traits mutations of magic? How, uhm, how does magic work? Do you have to read the spells from a book? Do you learn them from a book? The Wizard didn't read his spells from a book but he read a lot--had a vast library which was unheard of in Ronuvia... but I never thought his home was in Ronuvia because he would open these large portals and when you stepped into them they took you to places where you were not," his voice was still quiet but filled with excitement making his words come out closer together. In his excitement, he had not begun to shave the man for fear of cutting him and because he felt he must listen for the detail of his answers. "Mister Lupen, can you cast magic? Would--... would it be impolite of me to ask you to see some...?"

[Lasair Landevier Lupen]

The story enthralled him. He sat perfectly still and listened to every detail, enjoying the way Syd’s voice seemed to match the music played. Or was it the music that complimented his voice? It was hard to tell. Either way, it was a nice to listen to.

And then as he started with the cream on his back, the wave of questions came. It almost made Lasair chuckle, but he held it in. Moving was against the rules after all, so he did his best to answer them and remain still. “We are born this way if one or both of are parents are also anders. Magic is a sort of feeling, like an extra sense. I can feel the energy within me and with practice, I can manipulate it and put it to use. As for learning spells, some can be learned for books yes, but a lot of people learn their first spell by accident. They just play around with the feeling of the energy and then suddenly, something happens that they didn’t expect.”

The eagerness of the other was both surprising and nice. Lasair found himself smiling for the second time in his company. This kid was really something else. “It would not be impolite, but could you wait to ask until after you’re done with my back? Then I can properly show you one or two spells and answer any further questions.” Now he did allow himself to chuckle lightly. Not a speck of the shaving cream had been swiped off of his back.

[Syd Croswell-Miklos]

Syd licked his lower lip in anticipation of the answers. They were born that way? How... odd. What circumstances surrounded a person that made them born with magic? Where did the original casters come from? Was it just pure luck? It had not even occurred to him that they were a different species at all--just that they were humans born with magic and instead of witches or demons Andersweltler was the name given to them. Why had Viktor never mentioned this!? Why didn't the wizard ever confess to these things as Lasair did? Oh, he was so bothered but also excited that this stranger had been so willing to simply tell him. And then came the promise of showing him spells. "Of course, of course," he said hurriedly then lifted the razor to begin his work. Despite the excitement welled up within him, he did not rush. He took his time and was more careful than he had been before to ensure he would not harm the other again. Maybe he would make him something as an apology, or by him dinner... he could always lower the rate. Gods, he felt so bad.

The next song to follow the Sonata was not a very popular name. In fact, the composer was not even listed on the album in full but simply put as Lux Aeterna. The music came slow with yet another somber tune but something was far more haunting about this one as though impending doom awaited them. "I always imagined this song was meant for war," he murmured softly as the song suddenly rose in excitement making it feel almost out place for what they were doing but the more he contemplated it, was it really? War was outside of their door. "Mister Lupen, what kind of magics do you know?"

[Lasair Landevier Lupen]

He had kept the explanation short on purpose; it could be overwhelming to hear all the details all at once. Meanwhile most other people in the city had grown up knowing it as a fact of life. Those who didn’t know, who hadn’t heard the stories passed on from the ports or sky ships, they were always the ones most interesting to talk to. Many dismissed them as simple witches and wizards, a rumor common to all the lands. But being called a demon was common too. The name of vampire was new to him, however. As was the fact that the information was sought after without fear of what the answers would be.

As the song changed, Lasair almost missed the whispered comment from Syd while listening to the music. And as the song continued, he could see what the other meant with the words. It was an inspiring song, one that did give the feel of fighting for something you treasure.

“I know a little bit of all the magic currently known, but I’m sure there are more spells out there, waiting to be discovered. I can only show you five spells at most, however. I only have so much energy to work with at once, but after some rest it replenishes. I even know a bit of the spell that you mentioned your wizard friend using, the portal one.”

[Syd Croswell-Miklos]

"You do?" The question came almost as an exclamation as his hand paused. He knew a bit of all magic? Even the Wizard did not--well, he knew many forms of magic, but he had claimed he did not know everything. "Then... do you just dabble or do you know high accounts of magic spells? What schools exist of magic? They are called schools right? Are their official schools like structures that your kind go to practice or not since Lodanites are racist?" He'd continued shaving once more but had come to a finish. After setting the razor aside, he scooped up the towel, folded it so the blood was on the inside, then wiped Lasair's back clean before leaning into the other to slip his arm around the red head in order to get his chest. The implications of such an action never crossed his mind since he was far too busy with excitement, but he had forgotten to wipe any excess cream from Lasair's front before moving to his back.

"What happens if you run out of magic? Can you exhaust yourself that it eventually goes away forever...? That would be so sad. Please do not ever exert yourself to such a point, mister Lupen." Sitting upright once more, Syd then stood and went to grab the paper with the line work on it. Rather than sketchbook paper, the lines had been transferred to thermal paper that then could be applied to the skin by simply sticking it to the ander's skin. Syd began with Lasair's back first and placed the paper over his skin then rubbed it on. Leaving the paper there, he then took the second paper and moved to kneel in front of Lasair and applied the second paper. Because of how the design went toward's Lasair's back, Syd wrapped the paper about his shoulders to connect with the first sheet of paper. "Just have to give it a few moments."

[Lasair Landevier Lupen]

Ah, more questions. They were nice; Lasair enjoyed talking about magic. “I know the highest ranks of only one spell, but that’s only because it came naturally to me. I didn’t even realize I knew it so well until I went to practice it. But I hope one day I can master every spell. As for the schools, well, they were never really called schools here. The books I have describe them as branches; there's three of them. The flow of magic is the tree and there are the big branches sprouting from it. From those three big branches, smaller branches grow which are the individual spells. Everyone has their own personal tree, as a metaphor I mean. And they can choose which branches they want to grow the longest.”

He paused as an arm suddenly wrapped around him, wiping down his chest from behind him. It was surprising, especially given how timid the other had been just a few minutes prior. But the artist seemed unfazed by his action, instead continuing with the questions; so Lasair did the same with answering.

“There are five different ranks of magical spells, each rank having its own limit to how much it can be used. If you exhaust one rank, you’d feel a little tired but your magic would not be totally gone. When someone uses all the energy in all their ranks, however, they will feel very tired and may even pass out. But the magic will not be gone forever, they would just need an extended period of rest to let their body recover and restore the stores of magic that were just expended.”

Once the paper was applied to his skin, he motioned with his hand for Syd to pay attention. “Watch; this was the first spell I learned. I was out camping and needed to light a fire, but I lost my flint. And I was so frustrated and upset that, well.” He snapped his fingers, causing a small flame to appear on the tip of his middle finger. It was no bigger than the flame of a candle, and wavered slightly before flickering and going out. He lowered his hand and tried to gauge how the other would react to the display.

[Syd Croswell-Miklos]

"What sort of spell was it? Branches?" Syd piped down in order to hear the rest of the explanation and as Lasair spoke, he could not help but find the correlation of a tree to magic as charming. "Perhaps you should consider getting another tattoo--maybe the lower back of a tree with the various branches in runic so people cannot immediately tell what it is. Then if you get asked about it you could always say you fancy Nordic mythology and each rune stands for one of the realms. I like the idea of a tree..." With the paper in place, Syd sat back on his calves to listen to the other while his brows furrowed over the bridge of his nose.

The flicker of the flame suddenly springing to life made the artist's brows shoot up and his eyes widen. No sooner had the flame gone out did the Ronuvian take the chance to grasp Lasair's hand in both of his so he may turn his palm down then up while inspecting every detail. There really was no trickery, he found, nothing that could explain hat he saw. Realization that he had actually witnessed magic left him speechless and completely unaware that he was a grown man clinging to another grown man's hand as if he had just witnessed the birth of a messiah. "I want to know everything," he whispered in his awestruck stupor. Truthfully, if he hadn't forgotten he was holding onto Lasair's hands, he wouldn't have wanted to let go in the first place.

[Lasair Landevier Lupen]

Awestruck, that was the reaction Lasair received from the other. And without realizing it, the ander was smiling again as he looked back at Syd’s eager face. “I’d love to tell you everything I know. Perhaps after our sessions for the tattoo?”

Pulling his hand from the others, he glanced down at the paper, wondering if it had finished doing what it needed to. How the paper worked was lost on him, but considering that he knew how to do magic, he didn’t really question how a lot of things worked in the city. Technology was like it’s own sort of magic. It did crazy and wonderful things, just by having gears and mechanisms cooperating together in unique ways. If you think about it, it’s a whole other kind of magic all on its own.

He didn’t answer the question from before, since he wasn’t exactly eager to say ‘I can shut off your organs with a glare’ to the other. That was threatening in the wrong kind of way.

[Syd Croswell-Miklos]

Mild disappointment was written on his face when the ginger withdrew his hand from Syd's own but he caught himself--there was no reason to scare away his client and newly acquired friend by being absolutely queer. "Yes--maybe dinner?" Well, so much for not being queer. "I mean--not like a date," he fumbled over his words, "but just as friends having dinner together. I-I want to pay you back for cutting you by accident. If that is alright..." Any shade darker and the artist might have died but he did his best to ignore the heat in his face as he went to peel away the paper. Something in the way Lasair smiled made him happy and it was something he wished to make happen more often since the man had seemed so against it when they initially met. This second meeting was by far better than the first.

As the paper came away from skin, both men could see the dark, clean lines left behind of the tattoo outlines Lasair would soon be having but rather than black they were faint and almost blue in color. Getting up to throw the paper away, Syd the went to fetch the gun, a clean towel, ointment, wraps, and the ink cartridges that would be dispensed into the gun. "You are going to possibly bleed through the process and it may hurt so I apologize ahead of time. Have you a preference where I start? Front or back?"

[Lasair Landevier Lupen]

Lasair nodded, continuing to smile a little as Syd tripped on his words and began taking off the paper. “Sure, but if we’re going to be talking magic, it’ll have to be someplace private. Might get kicked out if the owner overhears us and thinks we’re anders.” The smile faded from his face then. Gone for now, but with the way things were going, there were chances that Syd would bring the happy expression back to his face.

“Back first, please. I can handle the pain.” He hadn’t known that tattoos could bleed though, so now he was glad that the cut had happened while shaving as opposed to during the actual inking process. Unsure of what to expect, he tensed up a little as Syd began the process.

[Syd Croswell-Miklos]

A nod had been given in regards to Lasair's choice in back. The lines were all they would touch upon today then tomorrow he would finish the colors for either the front or back, then the day after the one he had not finished. After situating himself behind the red head, Syd slipped on his gloves and shoved a black ink cartridge into the gun. "I... well, to be honest, I only ever had private in mind. I do not know this place well enough to know where to eat and, uhm," how should he say he was scared of meat, "I cannot eat certain things. I did not wish to embarrass you in a restaurant if they had nothing I could enjoy with you. Besides, in private you and I can also enjoy music with one another and not worry about anyone else being rude or critical." By talking he hoped to distract Lasair from some of the initial pain the tattoo might give as Syd pressed the gun to his starting point.

The device he held in his hand operated with on a pneumatic system of air with the real working mechanics hidden from Lasair's proximity. With each press of the needle Lasair would feel a pinch or burning sensation though it would likely only take him moments to adjust. Luckily there hadn't been any blood yet as the only sort of fluids Syd could see was the clear plasma. A thought struck him about how unfortunate it was that Lasair bled black. How was he going to know if something went wrong and his gun was leaking ink...? They seemed to be of the same consistency... though upon closer inspection, his blood looked like it ate light rather than reflect it--a trick of the eye? He couldn't be sure. He hadn't gotten a very good look with his panic and all.