The Mankitten Theory

[rassafraggin]

--[ Sorgo Gardens ]--------------------------------------[ Amber City ]----

The new Sun-clock Fountain is an oval mirror of placid dark water, held in by a low rim of stone that adds to the expression. Only one obelisk rises in the center from the water, strangely carved. A more careful eye will notice notches on the rim that mark the whole thing as a sun clock. It's a simplistic design...surely nothing monumental - until it starts to purr out a harmony of soft whirring noises, and the sounds of clockwork getting into motion fill out the air with soothing vibrations.

Stone statues, somewhat smaller than life size, rise from the water, held on trays of stone, all in motion. Fountain's mechanism moves slowly as weights and counterweights slide about, adding a certain monumental feature to the resemblance of a dancer trapped within a music box. Figures indeed seem to be dancing, rising, turning and slipping back to the depths to continue their perpetual path. The rim of the fountain is made so anyone curious can lean on it to look inside, into the deep waters.

In the corner of fountain garden is a family chapel, leaned against mansion. Raphaela exits with a squeek of old door, closing them behind her and leaning against them with a sigh. Taking a moment to wipe off the meditative face into her blank mask. She peels off the door and heads through the garden.

A splash of red against the snowy backdrop of the garden may be instantly familiar by now. Merrisol stands there in front of the fountain like Amber's largest cardinal, head lowered as though in imitation of the recent homage going on in the chapel. As each stone figure rises from the water on the clock path before him, he lets them slide into and out of his line of sight without much reaction. Probably has seen it all before, or has been standing there for several rotations already.

Raphaela spots the red, lowers her head until for a brief moment to wipe of the smile and pads that way, pausing beside him to mimic his action.

Aiding the bird impression are the coat tails jutting somewhat behind him as they spill back over wrists, thumbs hitched into the half-pockets of his trousers. His hair, while typically swept back, sports one yellow lock that sticks up higher from the rest in a way that could also be called comedically bird like. It's perhaps two inches shorter than the rest, chopped deliberate by the neatness of the cut. If the angle is right, Merrisol spies Raphaela's reflection as it sidles over the fountain's dark surface. Otherwise, he becomes aware of the slender presence presently and looks at her. "Good morning, Lady Raphaela.. are you well?"

Raphaela looks at the reflection, broken by rebman sculsptures that sink and rise "Well enough. I rarely put it to work."
If she finds the birdie comical she manages to contain it.

"What do you mean, rarely. You never seem to stop.." he considers, "Except that one time when you decided to blot up some extra writing ink with your cheek."

Raphaela blinks and chuckles, gesturing at the fountain "I mean the fountain. Oddly I perfer it when it doesn't work."

Merrisol sights up the obelisk. "Is it even calibrated accurately now?"

Raphaela looks up at the obelisk and points at the rim of the fountain. There are lines starting from inner side of the rim, and other from outer. "The smaller circle is for winter period." She walks half way around the fountain, crouches and pulls a hidden lever. The fountain starts purring differently, the statues start moving slower in reverse, shyly sinking under surface and not returning, the dark pond turning slowly into a mute, indifferent mirror, with Rebman art beneath surface, and lonely obelisk doing its service mutely.

Merrisol observes for a few moments. "Hm, yes. I see what you mean."

Raphaela hops on the rim easily and looks into the darkness "Maybe it's because they're rebman. Somehow it seems more appropriate."

He frowns at the fountain denizens more heavily. "Is it a gift from Rebma, then? Or.. are you?"

Raphaela looks at him and says "It was long ago. I went to visit Rebma and their art left me impressed. So I purchased them for this project. It seemed logical. I needed somthing that will last in water."

Merrisol stoops lower as if he could see the bottom of the well by doing do. "But this water would lack the specific properties of the water within the region of that city.. stone would still erode over time?"

Raphaela says "Well, I consider this fountain evolving...work of art. Decay is not unwelcome. One day nobody will be here to fix it and it will stop. And still be beautiful as it falls apart."

He straightens up again, with a curious look for her although he doesn't seem to feel the need to ask or say anything more. Turning, he strolls towards a part of the garden from where he might be able to glimpse the ballroom through windows, its state of repairs if any have begun at all.

He can se the teracce and the chandaliers from down here. Raph frowns and wonders "Did I get to depressive? Sometimes people tell me I do that..."

Merrisol was just pacing, it seems.. unless there are more unnatural bulges to be had like the one in the ballroom floor, there's nothing to see. "Too.. oh, no Raphaela," he replies as he turns back. "It was a profound sentiment. I did not want to diminish it straight away with remarks about salt.. salt as both a corrosive and a preservative.." Just say it, Kerf. Mummies! Raph-Mummies in the secret salt crypt!

Raphaela chuckles "Tell me about it. You can see why the reveletion that salt has philosophical and magical level caused me a headache. It was far easier when it was just merchendise." she continues to pace along.

Merri keeps his stride-length in check to match Raph's, moving easily along towards the ice rink. "Salt's not that difficult to understand.. relatively. Ever been around when the Prince Marshal decides to string more than two sentences together, and then it's all Pattern this, and holding all of creation steady that.."

Raphaela says "You think? When you realise that you can't live without salt but you can die because of it too, it got me thinking." she asks "You talked to Bendict?"

Raphaela says "When I am around him we're mostly quiet."

Merrisol nods. "I wanted to ask Liyandra something but she was out and I ended up in the library talking about how there's more than one Pattern and the one in Rebma might be responsible for the memory loss." He shakes his head slowly. "I'm still trying to understand how that works."

Raphaela nods "There were 3. But one in Tir was destroyed. And one in Rebma....i think was too."

Merri - a blotch of red and Raph - a blotch of black, walk around the frozen garden. Matching each other's pace but at respectful distance from each other.

Benedict is hard to spot, at first. The park of fountains has many nooks in it, and he is embedded in a spot that makes it hard to approach him without being seen. However, that also means that once his cover is circumnavigated, he cannot escape. As Merrisol and Raphaela pass by on their respectively distant walk, there is the Prince Marshal, writing in his notebook in a patch of sun.

"Well that's just it, there must be something left to it.." Merri is saying. "According to him, the Rebma one holds the key to the past, or.. preserves it.." he mutters. "Maybe it's all that salt." It's questionable whether he is all that alert to the surroundings today.. there is an air of distraction to him. Possibly he is just concentrating on regrowing his hair; someone with a keen blade has chopped through a single lock and the wounded now refuses to lay down with the rest.

Raphaela spots another blotchy person in the corner of her eye, tilting her head his way as she passes only to determine whether he wishes to be greeted or left alone.

Raphaela asks "Who mutilated your hair?"

Raphaela will possibly track them down and chop chop them in turn.

Benedict laughs. Ponders what he's doing there.

Benedict raises his hand in greeting to Raphaela. He does not get up, or even look at her, but it is a movement nevertheless - a slow one, but possibly one that will get attention.

Raphaela pauses and curtseys slowly enough to give Merri a chance to catch up.

Merrisol communicates inconsequential things with a sound from his throat. "Shao-san. Mistook my head for a cabbage.." Then Raph's tone gets through his filters. "No, it wasn't his fault, Raphaela... oh." He pivots to head-bow greetings along with graciously helpful Raphaela, still recovering from the surprise as he comes back up. The bench is not a bush and the raised hand is not a leap, but... close enough.

Benedict says, "Good day," and does not put away his notebook. He does wait to see what happens next, however.

Raphaela is walking with Merri through gardens and Benedict just waved at them from a secretive niched bench. "Care to join us for a stroll, highness?"

Benedict is dressed warmly for the day, but not too warmly for sitting still. He gets up and stretches, rolling his shoulders under his fur cloak, and then loosening it somewhat. "I may very well," he admits.

Dirk is wearing no coat and bounces into the gardens with much joy and abandon. He's kicking rocks or whatever around like they were soccer balls.

Raphaela nods and continues to walk along the pathway idly "I hope some poor fellow didn't end up with your hair in bowl." she continues blankly to Merrisol. She then notices a Dirk. HOnestly. Sorgo park is so POPULAR. "Stop ruining the snow, would you?"

Dirk looks up and smiles "Hey Your HIghness and Ralph and someone!

Benedict gives Dirk a tiny nod, and nothing more.

Merrisol steps further back on his side of the path, making room for a threesome with Raph in the middle. All they need is now is a Tin Man and a frisky pet, and they'll be all set for OZ. Oh, there's Dirk. Now all they need is a Tin Man.. "Good day, Lord Dirk," says Merri, waiting to see if he needs to jog the man's memory.

Benedict stays off the path. Presumably he is the scare-crow, although it is hard to tell if he has an autumn theme, under the thick cloak. He could equally be a wicked witch.

Raphaela has no red shoes. Or house on top of her. She nods to Dirk, "Hello..." she looks to Merri, "So what were we talking about?"

Dirk smiles "Are you Fluffy?" He asks Merrisol. Dirk is no Toto. He's more like a hyper flying monkey.

Flying coconut.

Raphaela snerks a bit.

Benedict finishes tucking his notepad away, like a slightly fussy librarian who has for his own reasons come to work dressed as a pine marten.

Nono, Raph.. don't you see, you're already home. Merri is Dorothy, sheesh. "Yes, my Lord. Only you might call me Merrisol now." Polite, but the compelling tone also warns off the use of any name with three 'f's in it. Dirk's not on the Kerf List! "I forget," he adds in response to Raph. That really was sort of the topic, as well.

Dirk nods "Okay Merrie." He gives everyone except Benedict nicknames. Ben is nicknamed, "Sir yes Sir." for obvious reasons. "How are you doing Ralph. Merrie and Your Highness?" He is no longer ruining the snow but he is fidgeting and watching Benedict with a worried look on his face.

Raphaela keeps walking "Ah, salt, Rebma and general complicatedness, I remember."

Dirk follows along trailing behind so not to be distracting.

Merrisol thanks Dirk with an 'I am well' aside, whether it's true or not. He doesn't appear to mind the name truncating. "I suppose I'll find the opportunity to go down there and see for myself, at some point before the Dancer sets out for its shake-down," he remarks to Raphaela as the walk resumes.

Benedict says, "Well enough, Lieutenant," with his antique accent and his upper-class tone. "I am here for a little planning, as my house is alarmingly full of masons."

Dirk nods "It is nice to hear that you're rebuilding." He gets very stiff and formal, very much not his usual self.

Raphaela looks at Merrisol as other two talk "Mind if I come along? Haven't been in Rebma for a long while."

Benedict quips, "Not from three feet away." The deadpan delivery might mean he is actually serious, and trying to put Dirk right; there is a chance he is not joking at all.

Merrisol half-monitors the other conversation, noticing Dirk's oddness even from the standpoint of not having seen him for a good month's time. He reacts to the rejoinder with a smile but looks away again, only to turn his head back, brow lifted as he regards Raphaela. "Yes, uh.. certainly, Lady Raphaela. I'll send for you when I am sure of the time."

Privately, to Raphaela, Merrisol seems mildly.. scandalized by the idea, really.

Dirk smiles and keeps watching Benedict.

Raphaela tilts her head at Merrisol with arched brow then looks back to Dirk and Benedict, aren't the four most ridicuouls group who ever walked this route "Dirk, why are you so chirpy today?"

Privately, to Merrisol, Raphaela honestly has no idea why. But she's curious.

Benedict just walks quietly. He keeps far enough away from the group that some might think he resents having been invited.

They bound him to them with social chains. Now he's captive. Bwhaha!

Dirk smiles "Cause there's snow, if there's one thing I like more than rain its snow." He bends down and makes a snowball.

Raphaela eyes Dirk.

Benedict seems to have no fear at all of being snowballed.

Merrisol doesn't look quite as comfortable as he did a couple of minutes ago.. but then, Benedict was already around by then. "Uh. You were 'planning', Highness..? If you wished to have a word with the Baroness, I'll.." He stops and looks at Dirk with the snow... urgh. "..I'll be happy to entertain the.. Lieutenant. Elsewhere for the moment."

Raphaela rubs her nose, it's cold, right? Or maybe she's hiding the smile.

Benedict says, "It is a public park. I could probably do with the exercise. I was not here for anyone's company in particular." He stays.

Dirk looks at the three companions he has and decides apparently via action to Snowball Merrie. He does his best to hit him right between the eyes.

Raphaela has good survival instinct, she helpfully steps away, and by pure accident closer to Benedict.

Benedict stays calm, and watches the flight of the snowball.

Point blank range to the face? What ever happened to pistols at twenty paces... oh right. Amber. Merrisol tracks Dirk's thought progression with the snowball easily enough, already assuming he's the most likely target what with the tempting targety red and the not having the authority to cast him into the deepest dungeon. He's almost resigned to it, but when Benedict denies being here to specifically see Raphaela, he reaches up just in time to straight-arm the ball as it leaves Dirk's fingers, for a nice scatter spray of cold stuffs in every direction. "Oops," he says flatly.

Benedict wipes a little of the scattered snow off his cloak, unflustered, but he does not take his eyes off the action much.

Raphaela grins, folds arms on her back and watches.

Dirk leans in and will not be denied as he tries to pounce Merrie. "oops." He says in a teasing fashion, "Still not flirting."

Raphaela sighs and continues walking, possibly elegant way to run away from all of them.

The tackle was not so expected. Merri takes one step back off the path before Dirk is allover him, wild howler monkey style? Lots of mmmph!ing and 'get it off get it off' type struggling ensues, before they crash through a shrub and land in a drift with another huff of loose particles. Definitely not flirting.

Benedict mutters to Raphaela, "... Have... done anything interesting lately..."

Raphaela steps in, leans over the bundle of men and pulls Dirk up by his collar idly "Don't traumatise Fuffy."

Raphaela looks at Ben and says "I offered Dirk a room in Sorgo, still contemplating if that counts as interesting, or purely insane."

Dirk was trying to get up and Ralph's intervention has him flailing a little. "Hey Ralp? I can get up on my own you know>"

Raphaela pulls him on other side as if he were a kitten. Indifferent as she talks to Benedict.

Dirk can't help it there's some wicked gleam in his eyes as he moves to perhaps trip Ralph.

Privately, to Merrisol, Raphaela eyes Fuffy in the snow with a playful grin. He might catch that glimpse.

Merrisol sits up, displeased and rumpled, staring after Dirk like he's not sure what exactly is the other man's malfunction but willing to bet there's some medicine he's not taking that could help. Very expressive glaring there, Merri. He gets himself standing and steps back to the path while undoing the catches on his coat.

Raphaela slips.

Maybe she's testing their reflexes. Or willingness to help?

Dirk does his best to catch Ralph and hold her out of the snow.

Benedict, too far away to help, just turns to walk away from the noise and the kerfuffle.

Merri clears most of his snow with a sharp snap of the open coat, looking up then to observe Ben's departure and Dirk dipping Raph or something. As long as she's not shrieking blue murder about it.. he announces, "If you will both excuse me," and leaves the rest of that sentence blank to mean he's going off to do anything other than entertain the.. Lieutenant, as he'd foolishly promised before.

Raphaela takes a seat in the snow.

Dirk turns and says "Sorry Merrie please be More merry now? I can't help it. Its your coat. Its red." He stares at the coat.

Raphaela climbs to her feet, and says sweetly to Dirk "COnsider the right to use the spare room retrieved."

Raphaela walks off in opposite direction of other two.

Dirk sighs "okay I'll go get my stuff out of it." He heads to the spare room.

Benedict is tall, and walks fast enough to keep ahead of anyone not trying to keep up.

Dirk gets a bird of green and grey and takes a note off it. He sighs and just sits his butt down in the snow.

Raphaela throws a snowball at him.

Dirk gets hit in the head with the snowball and doesn't move.

Merrisol halts his own departure upon hearing Dirk is being tossed from the manor. He mutters a low expletive, and turns back. "Perhaps she'll change her mind after a she takes a moment to..." Then kaboosh goes Dirk's head. Merri leaves the sentence there, nevermind.

Dirk shakes his head. "Its okay I have a home sort of. Don't need to stay here." He sighs softly. Dirk is getting coated with snow.

Raphaela throws another, and another. Not playfull, she's angry. Dirk managed!

Merrisol ohs? "Good. Probably for the best. House isn't safe for..." What.. buffoons? Merri actually has to struggle with himself to find a better word. ".. curious folk."

Raphaela throws a ball at Merrisol too "Who asked you to visit."

Merrisol also tries not to remark upon Dirk becoming a down-trodden snow sculpture. When the snowball crumps into his shoulder and clings there to the present dampness, he calls out to wherever, "I'm going, I'm going.."

Raphaela says "Stop complaining about my home." she mutters "And you stop embarrassing me!" she stomps off.

Dirk keeps getting hit and hit and doesn't move. He curls up in a ball to lay low and not get hit anymore.

Raphaela threw only three balls! honestly!

Dirk says "I know but I just got kicked out of my home. Yelled at by Benedict and pelted with snowballs. So I am having a crappy day kind of."

Merrisol bows his head in the direction of the stomping Raph. "Yes, I was only attempting help him look on the bright side. It's a delightful home, really!" Even Merri is looking on the bright side.. Mad Raph perhaps means Not Topless Raph when he wanders on down to Rebma in the near future. He glances at the cold pile of Dirk, shaking his head. "Get up, will you? I'll walk you to the coffeehouse or.. something."

Raphaela will of course, not throw Dirk's stuff out.

Dirk shrugs "Let me go get my stuff out of my room first." He gets up and heads into the house to quickly return with a small duffle bag of stuff.

Dirk heads to the entrance.

Merrisol casts a faint look skywards ala HELP ME TIR, before going along with Dirk.

Tir might or might not, fall on his head.


--[ Surya's Coffeehouse ]-----------------------------------[ Amber City ]----

Merrisol puts his coat over a chair near the fire to dry it off. "Hot Cider," he says to the barrista and glances at Dirk. "Want anything, Lieutenant?"

Dirk says, "You can call me Dirk and just a large amount of black coffee please?"

Merrisol nods, ordering a pot, then comes over to sit down in another chair, while the orders are brewed up and brought over by staff. "What other home did you leave.. the Prince Marshal's?"

Dirk says, "I don't have a home of my own, I either live in the castle which isn't mine or in places that friends let me. I have a room in Karm so I am not totally screwed. just partially. I also have tow rite 100 words on how I screwed up just now and send them to Benedict."

Merrisol frowns at that.. "Really. That messenger bird.. Why?"

Dirk says, "Because he said so."

Merrisol clears his throat, sits back with his cider after it arrives. "Or else, what?"

Dirk says, "Or else he will get angry at me and put me through miltary discipline not that he has to. All he has to do is be disapointed in me and I hate myself."

Merrisol sips, blinking. "Oh. He's your father? Apologies, I hadn't thought of that."

Dirk says, "No but until I was adopted by Gerard he was the closest thing I had ot one."

Merrisol nods, "I see. What an interesting tale. Well Spring is around the corner, then no more snow." He smiles. "Can you get into as much trouble with rain?"

Dirk says, "No I can't. I just feel bad."

Merrisol ahs, looking at the fire. "Though I'd imagine you already knew it would be a bad idea to carry on in front of Prince Benedict.. and yet you did. You either don't feel bad enough to learn from a mistake, or it's a compulsion you have and can't control," he suggests thoughtfully.

Dirk shrugs "What do you think?"

Merrisol is about to drink, then stops. "Hm? I don't know. Could be either of those things, but there's other possibilities. Myself, I have some responsibility for the outcome and I don't mean to take on more by offering a false excuse."

Dirk shrugs " Ralph will take me back but I won't make the same mistake twice."

Merrisol raises a brow. "Which is...?"

Dirk says, "Bouncing off you or anyone else."

Merrisol nods, but sighs after a moment. "The Prince Marshal perhaps doesn't understand bouncing.. or has perhaps forgotten its appeal." Guh. "Not saying it's particularly appealing, mind you. It's an individual matter of taste."

Dirk nods "I love to snuggle and I love hugs and pounces."

Merrisol's brows go off-kilter, like he's never heard those particular words before in his life. "Well.. I believe a man should not be made to go against his own nature. But maybe you're really a cat of some sort," he peers.

Dirk smiles "I like being scritched and petted. I purr and love cats."

Merrisol wrinkles his nose. "I cannot believe I'm saying this, but perhaps you would be happier as one. I know there are some people who can shift into the forms of birds.. I wonder if the same is true of cats."

Dirk says, "I can't do it."

Raphaela wanders in, looking for someone!

Merrisol lowers his mug. "You've tried, then? How hard did you try?" He and Dirk are sitting in armchairs by the fireside. Big pot of black coffee for Dirk, a hot cider for Merrisol, whose coat is draped on another fireside chair to dry off.

Dirk sighs "Its hard I do so good for a while then I screw up again.

Raphaela pads in, and takes a seat next to Dirk, pouting.

Raphaela flomps into a seat, really.

Dirk turns to Ralph and says "I am sorry, I'll stay out of your house now."

Merrisol stands up when he sees Raph approach. It's like tag-team Dirk-wrassling. While he's up, he might as well go inspect the state of the coat.

Raphaela gives Dirk a smack ruffle on the hair "Don't be stupid. I thought you knew my temper by now."

Raphaela rufflepologizes.

Dirk smiles "SO I can be your friend again and stay in your house and try to read your books?"

Coat's getting there, but while he's at it, he might as well put it on. And while he's got it on.. well, you get the picture. "I have some things to see to. Good day, Lady Raphaela. Lord Dirk." He nod-bows, then turns to go out.

Raphaela says "You never stopped being my friend. Of course that doesn't stop you from being occasional idiot at the same time. Never embaress me infront of guests again. If you're part of my house it makes your actions reflect on me." she looks up and blinks "Is he running away from me?"

Merrisol responds without missing a beat, "He has some things to see to, if he and she are going to Rebma," as he goes.

Dirk nods "I'll be quiet and not embarass you."

Raphaela says "Oh fashion shopping? That coat will get you drowned."

Raphaela might be teasing.

Raphaela looks at Dirk "I don't mind you being you. But I can't afford such free behaviour, Dirk."

Merrisol stops, looking back now. "I have something to wear.. do you? I meant, getting word to the palace to expect visitors."

Raphaela contemplates that "Uh, now that you mention it, I have no idea where I've put those clothes I wore last time. I wonder if they're still fashionable."

Dirk stays quiet "its okay the Prince Marshal wants me to write 100 words on how I fucked up."

Raphaela looks back to Dirk "Huh?"

Merrisol's mouth drops open, though whether it's because Dirk foulmouthed or Raph has no Rebman clothing... nah, it's the swearing. He waits a moment before saying dryly, "Didn't you say you had a 'particular' Rebman friend of whom you were very fond? I'm certain he would know." With a wave, he continues for the door.

Dirk nods "You missed the bird He sent me."

Raphaela just remains silent and receives coffee with a smile.