tushanshu_logs | (no subject)

Characters: Yorda and You!
Date: Throughout March
Location: Various places in Keeliai and on the turtle
Situation: March Catch-all!
Warnings/Rating: None for the time being.

A - Sing Nonomori

Yorda had fallen in love with music. She had never known anything quite so wonderful in her life (though granted, you could fill an entire library of things normal teenage girls knew that Yorda had zero concept of), and every time there was a performer in the streets, she'd listen to their songs utterly enraptured.

1-She had soon learned that giving these performers money or food was customary, and she'd taken that to heart. She didn't need to eat. There had been no food in the castle - and certainly nothing as wonderful as pastries or bread or the strange wriggly things the food vendors sold (sea prunes had become her favourite dish). It made sense to Yorda that the performers would want something in return for their work, and so she set about trying to find as much money as she could.

The thing was, Yorda had a knack for finding things. She was better than a bloodhound in some respects - once she set her mind to something, there wasn't much use dissuading her. She could be found around the city, rummaging in drains, bins or various other locales for lost coins. More often than not, she was in the way. But she'd also acquired quite a tidy sum.

2-Yorda had grown so enamoured with music that she had wanted to try singing for herself. She found herself an empty alleyway that she could have all to herself to whittle away the hours practicing. She had a reedy, thin voice. It was the kind of voice that had never shouted or made any sound more impassioned than a small exclamation of surprise. As she tried to sound out the words, her voice cracked and broke like spun glass hitting concrete. Eventually she clamped her jaws shut, her brow knit in frustration.

She was doing something wrong, she knew. But what? How did the street singers make such melodious sounds when all Yorda could manage was something somewhat less awful than a cat sliding down a chalkboard?

B- The Root of all Evil

Yorda never had money before. She didn't even know what it was until she came to Keeliai.

Now she had a jingling bag of coins, and for the first time in her life, she was faced with a real conflict of interest.

The dress was a pale yellow and had a tasteful and subtle pattern of birds and flowers embroidered along the skirt and sleeves. Yorda's face was pressed against the glass. She knew the right thing to do was to give the money to the musicians. But she also wondered if she shouldn't save some of it for herself to buy something other than the thin white dress she'd arrived in.

It wasn't like she needed it, nor could she afford it at this second - but for the first time in her life, she wanted a possession to call her very own.

Eventually the store owner had to shoo her off, though she looked back longingly at the display, hugging her bag of juulan just a little tighter.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

That's...an interesting expression. It's hard to get a good read off her, so he'll just have to wing it.

"They look very different, to be honest," a pause. "But honestly, I'm enjoying the adventure with seeing something different than what I'm used to."

"I see. I hope I am one day able to see this Paris in France," she said quietly.

"I like Keeliai very much, but I would like to put myself back inside me and not a stone so I can go to other places."

"Maybe one day, you will."

He looks down at his own soul-gem. He hadn't give it much thought. After keeping guard on his Miraculous, another magical gem he couldn't remove from his person was nothing new. Still, she's right.

"I'm sure we'll figure it out sometime. Find a way to free us all."

"One day," she agreed with a small nod. "For now, it is good to have the freedom I do."

She hesitated. She knew enough of people that what she asked next would probably be a personal question, but it's one that came up often.

"If you could return home now, would you?"

"Freedom is always a great thing to have."

He would sure love more of it. Ah, but this is the important question, and his smile turns a little sad.

"It's pretty neat here, don't get me wrong, but I belong back there. My friends are there, my father," Ladybug. "I miss them."

"You miss the people who were left behind. I understand," she said, head bowing a little. "It is my hope that Ico will be brought here. And then we will both be free."

And no one would hurt them. No one would know what they were- they would look a bit strange, but all foreigners were odd to the Kedan. They could live out their lives in peace.

She did seem perplexed by what Adrien said though.

"What is having a father like?"

"I hope so, too. It's important to have people you care about with you. Especially if it means you'll both be safe."

Ah. That was..quite the question, and Adrien's pleasant, polite smile fades for a moment. He understands what having a father is supposed to be like, but that's not what he has. He doesn't have someone to sit and talk to, to feel close to, to bond with. He can't remember the last time he and his father even sat down for a meal together.

Still, he hopes...no, he knows deep down, his father still loves him. He's just not dealing with the absence of his wife. He just doesn't know how to reach out. How to reconnect again. Adrien's sure it's just that, and if he's patient, his father will come around. He just has to wait.

"It's like knowing there's always someone there to take care of you, no matter what."

It's a lie, and it comes out hollow. It's what he wants it to be, rather than what it actually is.

Edited 2016-03-24 23:44 (UTC)

The hollowness of Adrien's tone didn't escape Yorda's notice. For all her naivete, she was far from stupid.

"You are lying."

It wasn't an accusation, just a slightly puzzled statement. But she recognized the tone - how often had she reassured herself her mother only wanted to keep her safe? Every time a fresh set of idol gates blocked off her path. Every time a wraith came to whisk her back to the Tower of Winds.

It was only when Yorda had learned the truth behind her existence - how she came to be and what she would become - that she had stopped lying to herself. But by then it was too late.

"Are you also a vessel...?"

Adrien winces a little, caught in his lie. Back home, people tend not to question it, aside from Nino. Everyone else but his best friend leave him to it, just assume because he's rich he's happy, that his relationship with his father is fine. He's not used to having to explain himself.

"I- sorry. It's just a little...complicated."

He frowns, confused by her question. Technically, he could be called such a thing. But at the same time...not. Plagg never used the word to describe him, and even if he did, Adrien wouldn't admit it. Secret identities are secrets for a reason, even here.

"No, I'm just a regular kid, really. Uh...what's a vessel?"

Yorda nodded. Complicated. She understood complicated. Adrien's own question was just that.

Yorda was quiet for a moment.

"I am."

And then she added - "But I chose what I would hold." Because that was important. "Your father, he did not make you so that he could live on through you?"

Well. That was really, really different. He always felt himself his father's prisoner, but he knew that was to keep him safe, lest the same happen to him that happened to his mother. Sure, Adrien himself was caught up in magical weirdness, but his father had nothing to do with any of that. He's pretty sure the great Gabriel Agreste would flip out if he knew his son was one of Paris' superheroes.

"Um. No. He just wanted to keep me safe," that was so weird. "...Is that what your father did to you?"

"I thought that is what my mother wanted once," she admitted. "But perhaps fathers are different."

She looked to Adrien, brow knit in concern. She hoped this person didn't have the same fate waiting for him at home.

"They are different, yes?"

Adrien is absolutely and completely unqualified to answer this. He was close to his mother, certainly, but to compare her and his father would be like trying to compare night and day. He smiles awkwardly, giving a shrug.

"I guess? It all depends on the person."

"I see," Yorda said softly. She didn't, really. Her basis of comparison was very limited.

"I hope you are able to get home to those you love. I hope also that your father becomes what he should be and you do not have to lie anymore."

That's quite the speech, and Adrien's polite smile flickers for a moment. A small crack in the self-made armor. He pulls it back together though, letting out a soft humoured noise. It's fine, everything is fine. He's fine.

"...Yeah. Thanks. I uh... you too? On the...going home to people you love thing anyway."

Yorda shook her head.

"There is only one person at home I would like to see again."

She sounded almost despondant. "But it would be better if he were brought her. Then we could both live freely."

Up until last year, Adrien would understand that statement only too well. He feels a pang of sympathy for her. She must be so very lonely.

"Well, maybe someday the Dreaming will bring her here. Then you guys could be safe and happy, right?"