Apéritif

the spyglass

I used to think that I was bold, I used to think love would be fun

Remi's call is echoed back at him, sort of, mumbled between hunks of meat (except for Twenty-One, of course, who is the epitome of etiquette as Molly's has taught him to be). "Oh, it's much as you'd expect," Finn explains, dropping his gaze into his whiskey. "Twenty-One wants to be me. Twelve and Fifteen want to be Twenty-One." Safety and security for one, a full belly and a soft bed for the others.

"Eight doesn't want to go forward, though. He wants to go back," he continues, raising his eyes to the child at the opposite end of the table, as if in apology for the boys who sit between them, for the future he is destined to inherit. "He misses his mother and father," he explains. "He thinks he will be going to the Collegium to live, but there will be a mistake with paperwork. No one will come for him on the day he waits outside his old house."

There's a snapping of bones between nimble fingers, echoing Twelve's thoughts about that.

now all my stories have been told; except for one

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

& doesn't the white page seem unfinished
without the dark stain of alphabets?

Grinning at this, Remi reaches forward for a tumbler of what he assumes is filled with the same thing as Finn is drinking, and hides his smile behind it as he glances at the other man. "And who do you want to be?" He asks with a mischievous playfulness as if the pair were old friends.

Looking down to Eight, Remi's smile softens considerably and he finds himself inhaling a deep breath. "I can only imagine." He mutters softly, his gaze flinching at the sound of breaking bones. 'But he did go forward. I hope he's proud of that." They are all of them here because of that boy's courage and strength, and it isn't a fact Remi will be quick to forget.

the lullaby

Styling stolen from Sky (obviously)

the spyglass

I used to think that I was bold, I used to think love would be fun

Remi's mischief is contagious, Finn smiling crookedly into his glass before raising his gaze to Remi and raising his whiskey in a cheers. "If you had asked me even six months ago I'm not sure I'd have been able to answer you," he confesses. "Now, though? I think I'd quite like to be a detective." Someone who can help, who can give back, who can perhaps prevent a similar mistake from happening to another child. "How about you?"

Following the other man's glance down the table at Eight, who is still dismantling the hawk without eating any of it, Finn's smile fades somewhat. "I think he's learning to be," he says softly, pausing for a beat before he can't resist saying the obvious. "He and Twelve look like you, from our other dream. Don't you think?" The one with honey slathered bread, with the sound of Remi's father roaring down the brothel corridors.

now all my stories have been told; except for one

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

& doesn't the white page seem unfinished
without the dark stain of alphabets?

"A detective?" Looking genuinely interested, Remi samples the whiskey and immediately finds himself coughing at its strength. Covering his lips with the back of his hand and blinking an apology in Finn's direction, Remi sips in a strangled breath before managing to clear his throat.

'Most days I do not even know who I am, so...' Shrugging bashfully, Remi offers Finns a what can you do sort of smile. "I think I need to figure that out before I can decide what I want to be. Or...maybe not..?" Honestly, Remi doesn't know.

Gazing at the boys, Remi finds himself blushing with something like adoration. "They do. Or maybe I look like them." In the trees pairs of green eyes peer out from behind a thick canopy of leaves. Looking at Finn, Remi raises his eyebrows, silently asking for the other man's permission. This was his table, after all.

the lullaby

Styling stolen from Sky (obviously)

the spyglass

I used to think that I was bold, I used to think love would be fun

"Mm," Finn says around another sip of whiskey, smiling to the other man and lowering his glass. His curiosity is like permission, and Finn seizes on it. "Since Cian is gone and there is no Eye in Stormbreak, most of my work has fallen down, I think. I have been looking into crimes in the city, unsolved cases, that sort of thing. It is a lot of reading." And he sounds thoroughly pleased about it.

Sighing and nodding sadly, able to understand the alchemist's predicament even if he has never stood in his shoes directly, Finn taps at his glass. "That sounds so, so difficult," he murmurs. "I hope that you can find some peace for yourself soon, if nothing else." Peace is almost as rare a commodity as time, Finn finds.

"I suppose I am older than you are," Finn agrees of the boys, following Remi's glance to the trees and the several pairs of sea glass green. "By all means," he says, gesturing for the table. "Pull up a chair."

now all my stories have been told; except for one

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

& doesn't the white page seem unfinished
without the dark stain of alphabets?

'A detective sounds...so very you. Is your goal to bring people to justice? Or...to avenge those who have been wronged?" Remi wonders, with a bird-like tilt of his head. "Mmm, thank you." He might have reached out to give Finn's hand an appreciative squeeze were it not wrapped around his tumbler. "Knowing the landscape of my heart is the first step. Now I think I need to find a way to grow it somehow. I cannot take away any of the pieces but...I do think I need to make more room." Remi's second attempt at the whiskey goes down far smoother, and he's able to sit back into his chair and savour it as his own past iterations peek out of the underbrush.

Five is first, fleet-footed and wearing little else but a smile. Exuberantly he races towards Eight and nearly overshoots the table before managing to stop. Tittering away in a language that's chaotically quick and musical, he gestures at the dissected hawk and then at himself with a wide toothy smile. Nineteen is next, boyishly handsome in his efforts to appear calm and sure of himself despite his inability to make eye contact with the versions of Finn older than about 15. Then there is 21 whose appearance is hollowed and whose eyes are lined by dark circles. Not unlike Eight, though he politely sits at the table, he picks at his food instead of eating it.

Last of course is Nine, whose steps are compelled by obligation rather than any desire at all to be present. Lurking near the table, he keeps his eyes downcast and rubs at one arm but does not sit down.

the lullaby

Styling stolen from Sky (obviously)

the spyglass

I used to think that I was bold, I used to think love would be fun

"Thank you. I'm not sure it's either, though... selfish as that might seem. I think right now I just want to be able to solve problems." Instead of making them, as it feels like he has done for most of his life. "To give answers to people who need them." It's an academic workout for his mind if nothing else, with a side effect in that it helps people.

The mention of Remi's heart has the Spyglass glancing to the box again, peering into it at the starlight peeping through dragon scales, at the machinery and the moss. "I think you need to steal Christmas, and then give it back again," he says suddenly, before his cheeks flush crimson suddenly and he lets out a boyish laugh. "Sorry, it... I think it is an old Outlander story. Tobi was reading it to me - you can borrow it if you like." The offer comes out so easily that he doesn't even try to take it back, though Finn is glad of the distraction as the other Remis surge forward.

Five receives a smile, ill-matched as he is to Finn's younger self, though Eight is intelligent enough to offer the hawk up for feasting. He wiggles on his chair a bit, giving the other boy room to share with him. Nineteen and Twenty-One, while very alike in age, could not seem more different, and the Spyglass finds himself glancing between them with a soft frown. "I'm sorry, for whatever happened," he says quietly.

Nine catches his attention mostly, though - Finn recognises in him the boy from the brothel above all the others. His own silk-clad Twenty-One recognises him too, tilting his head and watching him curiously, though of course he says nothing. He keeps secrets, and he always will.

now all my stories have been told; except for one

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

& doesn't the white page seem unfinished
without the dark stain of alphabets?

"I think it sounds like both, not neither." Remi counters with a warm smile, before peering curiously at Finn. "Christ-mass?" He repeats, perplexed at least until Finn mentions that it has to do with Outlanders. "Ah. Well. If you see a Christmas that I can steal, let me know. But I would happily read this book."

R's roll off Five's tongue as he burbles his appreciation. Sticking a drumstick into his mouth, he waggles the other one out for Eight as he plops down at the boy's side. "Oh, no please. It is fine." Nineteen says, waving away a hand before giving Twenty One a pat on the back and doing his best not to look at the other Twenty One. "You are allowed to sit, if you like. If not, you do not have to stay here." Remi says gently to his younger self, who regards him with disbelieving eyes, and just shakes his head.

'I wonder how long before we need a larger table.' The alchemist says thoughtfully as he glances at Finn.

the lullaby

Styling stolen from Sky (obviously)

the spyglass

I used to think that I was bold, I used to think love would be fun

"Both, then," he says, his cheeks still flushed pink, though this time there's a small smile on his face that might be something like pride. He watches the way Five and Eight interact so freely (well, one of them does anyway), and though Eight accepts the other drumstick, he merely picks it apart, and maybe only one percent of it actually makes it to his lips.

Glancing between Nineteen and Nine, Finn instead opts for Remi again, finishing his whiskey and tilting his head. "I suppose we will become versions of ourselves eventually as well, won't we," he says. "I wonder who else we might become." The future seems to warble around the table, men whose faces are wrapped in darkness, who could be light or darkness depending on the decisions their present selves make.

"It was really nice to meet you, Remi," Finn says suddenly, lifting his gaze to the boys around the table. "I wish we had done this sooner."

now all my stories have been told; except for one

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

& doesn't the white page seem unfinished
without the dark stain of alphabets?

With a cackle of intense joy, Five over-mimes eating as if a lack of understanding is what is keeping the food from making it into Eight's mouth. "Mmmhmm. We will lose our places at the head of the table and will watch different men take our place." Remi agrees, though something in the shine of his gaze makes it seem as if he doesn't believe this. That this version of him might be the end of his own line.

"Well, I know who you will become." The alchemist says knowingly, tilting his cup toward Finn. "A detective. Married, perhaps. Maybe even a sibling for Ever. And—" Looking up for a moment, he grins. "—I predict you will move out of Stormbreak." He adds, striving for an air of prophecy.

Five has nothing to cheers with, so he raises his drumstick, while everyone save for Nine reaches for a glass. 'At least we did it before it was too late.' Remi adds, before draining his glass.

the lullaby

Styling stolen from Sky (obviously)

the spyglass

I used to think that I was bold, I used to think love would be fun

"I don't think I would mind that," Finn says softly, of losing his place at the head of the table. The mantle of responsibility is a hard one to carry, and all of these versions of himself have done it at some point. It would be nice to sit alongside them as comrades, rather than before them as a leader. Still, he can't help but be momentarily distracted by Five's cackling - it's enough to draw something of a smile from Eight's lips, and he finally takes a proper bite of his food (Five can treat that as a victory).

"Oh?" He tilts his head. "Leaving Stormbreak for where, I wonder?" Everywhere has crime, he supposes. Married and a sibling for Ever have him blushing right to the tips of his ears though, and he can't help but clear his throat and look away. "I think you will find something to ground you, and to grow you. Something to orient yourself around, like the eye in a hurricane. I don't know what yet, but I think it's on its way."

Raising his glass in a similar cheers (and there are drumsticks, lion bones and octopus tentacles instead of whiskey), he can only nod his immediate agreement. "Do you think we will ever have a conversation like this again?" Something easy. Something companionable.

now all my stories have been told; except for one

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

& doesn't the white page seem unfinished
without the dark stain of alphabets?

"Nor me." Remi agrees, and if he was going to elaborate, the words are lost amidst the laughter at the opposite end of the table where Five is currently pulling at his cheeks and sticking out his tongue to try and bring out another of Eight's smiles.

'You tell me.' The alchemist counters with a crooked smile, finding Finn's blush endearing but looking away so as not to fixate. "Like the Eye in a hurricane." He repeats slowly, his expression growing thoughtful. "So I shouldn't expect the chaos around me to cease, then." He deduces with a mild shrug.

Looking down into his empty glass, Remi's lips twitch as if in a smile will the rest of his expression crumples. "Not while we are awake." He replies slowly. This version of himself is free of divine muscles and might, free of physical scars save for the ones received through mundane means. This Remi was still capable of meeting Finn's gaze and thinking of him as a friend. "Here we can pull ourselves apart." He adds thoughtfully. "It gives me...breathing room, you might say." Breathing room in which the predators inside of his bones could roam, where they wouldn't feel trapped and compelled to attack.

the lullaby

Styling stolen from Sky (obviously)

the spyglass

I used to think that I was bold, I used to think love would be fun

Five is successful, as he always would be, and though Eight's smiles are still shy and he can't really look at the other boy for too long, there's a sweetness about him that would have grown and blossomed if it had been given the chance. What would the men who sit around the table have become, if their younger iterations had been given time to flourish? It tugs at a thread of sadness within Finn to think about it, and he clears his throat and puts his glass back down.

"Oh, I didn't mean for it to sound negative, or destructive," he says in apology. "I meant more like... a calm place you can go to, whenever you need it." Not all chaos is bad, either, he supposes - and perhaps Remi is the hurricane in this scenario.

Finn nods thoughtfully as Remi continues, the Spyglass rubbing at the back of his neck and letting out a whoosh of air. "Me too," he says. "It's nice. Perhaps we can meet again like this, then. I can share some of the cases I am working on." It's a tentative suggestion, but Finn can't help but hope the other man will say yes.

now all my stories have been told; except for one

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

& doesn't the white page seem unfinished
without the dark stain of alphabets?

Remi hums in a considerate breath. "I suppose time will tell how prophetic we are." He says with a small shrug, eyeing the decanter of whiskey for a moment but not pouring himself any more.

With a sharp turn of his head, Remi perhaps having expected Finn to say something else entirely, he regards the other man carefully for a moment as his eyes try to see through something that probably isn't there at all. "I...think I would like that." He replies a touch cautiously, before glancing toward the treeline. "Perhaps you might even sharpen some of your skills here..." So saying a man clearly clutching a purse and looking entirely the role of a villain rushes across their field of vision. Shouts of "thief, thief!" follow him as he darts into the trees.

Remi grins wryly at Finn and shrugs his shoulders. 'Vai told me all sorts of fantastical who-dunnit stories when I was younger..' He adds for context; in this particular tale, the man running actually wasn't the thief, but was being set up by someone else so that they might position themselves as the rightful owner of the contents of the purse.

the lullaby

Styling stolen from Sky (obviously)