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Any artist needs to do exercises to keep in training - just like an athlete runs laps or a musician plays numerous scales. Thus, Nevermore sits in the park, watching the people and sketching. They're trying to keep things interesting by varying styles - one is sketched as an attempt at a realistic visage, another a disneyesque cartoon, a third as something straight out of a magical girl anime, the fourth a caricature. They've doffed the coat in a concession to the heat, but have it folded up next to them as their ostrich-quill pen decoration bobs up and down.
A tall man ambles through the park at a leisurely pace; dressed plain, with long hair in a bun and a beard born of laziness. He stops about ten yards from Nevy and promptly throws himself onto the grass, stretching out like he's about to make a snow angel. Grass angel? Anyway, with limbs sprawled he takes a deep breath, sighing out as his gaze turns to the blue bowl above.
Nevy grins at the man's actions. They sketch him, down on the ground - then they sketch another picture of an angel-shaped divot surrounded by tufts of grass, with a speech bubble saying "I may have gone overboard" sticking out of it. They don't hide their amusement as they glance between him and their sketchbook
Jude folds his arms beneath his head, simply admiring the sky for a moment. Out of the corner of his eye he notes that he's being casually observed, so he switches his attention to Nevy instead; he gives her a shameless grin. "Been awhile since I got to wile away time in the park," he explains.
Nevy chuckles. "Trust me," They call out. "I know the feeling. Some days I feel like I've been running like crazy since my ancestors crawled out of the ooze."
Jude pushes to his feet, ambling over to take a seat closer; still, he is sure to give Nevy a wealth of personal space. "I hear that," he muses. "But I figured today was th'day."
They grin. "Sure looked like you were having fun." They proffer the sketchbook, open to that page.
He leans over to look at her work; Nevy is rewarded with a genuine, deep laugh. "Ah, that's great. You got skill, you a formal artist? Or is it just for fun?"
"I don't know if I'd say formal, but I've been known to draw things for money." They smirk and pull out one of their social media and commission business cards. "Nevermore Usher. I feel like I've seen you before, but... I couldn't place your name."
"have you?" His brows lift with curiosity, taking the card. "I'm Jude Gallowglass, if that helps."
Nevy nods. "Now, the last month has been so hectic that if you asked me when, where, or how I ran into you..." They shrug with a wry smile. "It's nice to re-meet you, Jude."
"I can't remember either," he laughs, shrugging; he offers out a hand. "We'll just start over! I'm probably nicer t'meet this month than I was before anyway."
Nevy raises their eyebrows. "Yeah?" They shake his hand. "You've been all right so far."
"Well sure, that's because I work at behavin' now." His grin turns crooked; he lies back down in the grass, arms folded beneath his head. "So what's your story, Nevermore?"
"My story?" They smirk. "Alas for Truths Untold, available on my website for $20 plus shipping." They blep. "But there's a chance that might not've been what you meant."
He snorts. "I s'pose I can buy th'book, but I usually go for my stories straight from th'tap." He cocks a grin at her that is suprisingly charming. "But if you don't want t'tell me everythin', I guess I'll understand."
Nevy snickers. "Really, there's not so much to tell. Poet, artist, goth." They lean back on the bench. "How about you, Window-to-the-gallows? What's your story?"
He props up on his elbows, mouth pursing thoughtfully. "Not a lot t'tell. Born and raised here. I think I was born here, anyway. Signs point t'yes."
They raise their eyebrows in mock contempt. "What, you don't remember? Clearly you're not trying." They grin.
"Hah, uh..I mean, no? I was only found when I was around age 2." He doesn't sound troubled sharing this, or that it's sad; just a fact of the story. "They estimated, couldn't find my birth certificate or nothin'."
They blink. "Who found you? If you don't mind my asking?"
"Oh, it was...well, I guess it was social services, or it would've been th'cops." He nods.
Nevermore nods. "Well. What mystical kingdom are you prince of, do you think? That's usually how this sort of thing goes."
He grins, then affects a thoughtful expression with a scrunched face. "Hmm. Do I get t'pick the kingdom? Or just does it hit at random?" He turns one way and then the other, brows lifting. "Which one suits me best, I dunno shit about magic kingdoms."
Nevermore shrugs. "Depends on the author, and I wouldn't know what fits you. You could be a goblin prince, like a genderwapped Pan's Labyrith with tattoos?"
"Huh. Sure, okay," he shrugs, waving a hand. "We'll go with that. Goblin prince." He snorts, as if that's somewhat amusing. "So, rather than being whisked away to a magic kingdom, I was whisked away to the magical kingdom of foster care. Th'rest is predictable, probably. How about you?"
"I'm clearly a lord of the dead, brought to the world of the living to understand where my subjects come from better," Nevy says. They smirk. "It's a goth thing."
"Like Joe Black, huh? How's that workin' out for you? Do th'other goths gather at your feet?"
Nevy snorts. "Just when I drop the black lipstick."
He laughs at that. "I like you," he decides. "Okay, so you're a lord of th'dead. Are you understandin' your subjects any better?"
"Oh, I understand dead folks just fine. living people sometimes give me a little trouble, but that's life."
"Yeah, I...can't argue that. They're a pain in th'ass." He eyes her curiously. "But you understand dead people?"
Nevermore chuckles. "It's a Goth thing," They say again..
He is looking at her curiously, as if he is curious about her saying she understands dead folk. Like that would be a curious thing someone might say that could make someone curious.
Oh, and maybe he's curious - but in a hopeful way, like maybe she's "in the know" and they can talk about fun things.
They side-eye him. "Oh," They say casually, in a light tone that might be a joke. "And I see dead people."
He eyes her, skeptical, and bumps his chin at her. "No shit?"
They chuckle. "Well. Mostly hear, because invisible. But yep."
Jude's demeanor changes; first, there's relief. Second, he's amazed. "No fuckin' way! Are you shittin' me?" He glances around, and scoots closer (while still giving her space). "Are you a mage too?" He whispers.
They chuckle. "Nah, just a medium - like Dandy. You're a Mage, though?"
"Dandy," he murmurs, as if trying to place the name. "Oh, no. My buddy Myra is. D'you know Myra?" He squints at Nevy again. "What's a medium?"
"Bigger than a small and smaller than a large," Nevy deadpans. They grin. "Yeah, I know Myra. She's a lot of fun, but I sometimes have trouble not expecting a bluebird to land on her finger and sing a duet with her about adventure."
He barks a laugh, his grin turning very affectionate; he lifts a hand to rub his neck. "Yeah, she's...yeah. She's somethin'," he agrees. "But I'm serious, what's a medium? That what you call it to talk to dead people?"
Nevy nods. "We can... channel ghosts and spirits. Let them talk through us. It can be..." They finger the rose-designed necklace around their neck. "It can be dangerous, if the ghost or spirit isn't playing fair."
His eyes widen. Jude's color turns ashy-pale. "No fuckin' way," he breathes. "You - you're like that kid in the movie? The i-see-dead-people kid?!"
Nevy chuckles. "Not exactly, but... sure, it works." They shrug. "How about you? What's your flavor of weird?"
"Uhhh..." he rubs the back of his head, chewing the inside of his cheek. "I'm not ...okay, disclaimer. Th'last person I tried explainin' this to sort of uh...it took a long time for her t'talk t'me again. I promise I'm not anythin' dangerous."
Nevy side-eyes. "Okay, now I'm curious. Vampire?"
"Ew, no," he makes a face, shaking his head. "I'm uh, Lost?"
Nevermore frowns. "Lost trying to tell me? I mean, if you can't or don't want to, that's fine - I know how important secrets are with this stuff. But if you're just not sure how to say it, just be straight. I swear, I've heard weirder."
"No, I mean, that's what we're called. You were sorta on th'right track with bein' stolen away t'a kingdom, except fairy tales are horrifying and fairies are dickheads."
They blink. "Oh. Oh. They grimace. "Sorry. Now I feel kind of shitty for being flip about the goblin prince thing."
"Why? You didn't know!" He looks relieved that they connected the dots, reclining on his forearms once again. Jude stretches his legs out in front of him, using one foot against the other to kick his boots off. "Don't feel bad, serious. I wanna know more about ghosts. Ghosts are real, then?"
Nevermore nods. "Ghosts and spirits, both. Ghosts are... some of the books I've read think they're parts of people left behind. Others say they're more like... echoes. A lingering reflection, but not really there any longer. Most of the ones I've met have... felt more like the latter, but some..." They shrug, looking out into the distance for a moment.
Jude lifts a hand, his expression masked in confidence. "You don't have to explain spirits to me," he assures Nevy. "Myra taught me about them. They're in the Twilight." He looks extremely proud of himself.
Nevermore nods, face straight. "All seeking an audience with Lord Jacob or Viscount Edward."
Jude blinks - but then he points at Nevy, grinning. "Ahhhh, you can't trick me! That's the other Twilight. Nice try!"
They blink at him innocently. "Other twilight? You're not talking about 50 shades, are you?"
He gives her a shit-eating grin. "Why, that your safe phrase?"
They grimace and shudder. "No thank you. If I have a kink, unhealthy, controlling and abusive relationships aren't it."
"Good, I didn't wanna have t'stage an intervention. What did th'other ghosts feel like?" His expression is patient. Earnest. "You said 'but some'....some what?"
They smile. "Family," They say. "My grandma helped keep an eye on me while I was growing up. She passed when I was little, but she didn't let it slow her down too much."
He gives her a gentle smile, nodding. "What was that like? Was it comforting, or just...kinda unsettling?"
"I mean... it was normal. To me, anyway. Later on, when people started telling me it was weird..." They shrug.
"Ugh, yeah. So people tried to ruin it." He gives a slight shake of his head. "Well. I think it's pretty fuckin' great. Fuck them."
Nevy smirks. "Why do you think I'm goth? When I talk about speaking about ghosts, they either think I'm being deep or edgy."
"What, you can't multitask?" He grins, reaching forward to pull off his socks. He thus wriggles his bare feet in the grass with a delighted sort of sound. "Be deep and edgy."
Nevy laughs. "That's what I say! There's room to be sublime and ridiculous."
"Yeah, you really gotta branch out. Like, I work real hard on makin' sure I'm brooding and sensitive."
Nevy chuckles. "Brooding and sensitive and with that hair? Geeze, are you trying to kill everyone you know who's attracted to guys?"
"I mean," he appears to consider that a moment, rubbing a hand along his jaw. "...Yeah. I can't help it."
Nevy laughs. "Should I be ready to tell your victims' unquiet shades you're sorry?"
He winces, giving her a look of sympathy. "Oh, I didn't think about that. I'd be makin' more work for you, huh? Last thing I want is a bunch of poor, dead bastards knockin' down your door t'cry about me."
Nevy chuckles. "Nah, don't worry about it. More stories to tell. Alas, the doomed love!" They throw back their head with a melodramatic hand thrown up to their forehead, then break down into giggles.
He chuckles along, stretching out once again on the lawn. "Huh. Spirits and ghosts are real, there's vampires and wizards - wait, no. Shamans," he corrects himself. "I've learned a lotta shit in the past few weeks, damn."
"If you want to call them something, 'mages' is probably your best bet. But yeah. There are more things in Heaven and on Earth, Horatio."
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