bart2

Starring: Jesse Black, Bart Fatima.
Date of Log: March 25th, 2001
Location: Balamb Town.

It's later in the day, though not quite twilight. That means normal classes for Garden are finished and one youthful prince is on his way back to the house where he lives with his brother and brother in law. However, he's definitely dragging his feet today, not really wanting to go home at all. So, he's moving a wee bit slowly, with that guilty 'cat who ate the canary and was not only caught but smacked up the side of the head' look on his face.
On top of that, he's wet. Not soaked to the bone, but definitely damp. The long braid is flattened, dulled to a golden brown rather than the usual burnished gold and unruly bangs are stuck to his cheeks and forehead. His boots squeak slightly as he walks and the whips aren't coiled at his side, as usual, held in on hand instead, though still coiled. With a heavy sigh, he pauses in front of the house, not heading toward the door, and not at all looking excited to be home, ready to bound inside and bombard Sigurd and Squall with how his day went today. No, he doesn't want to go in -at all-.

As much as the Commander would've liked nothing more than to have lurked in Balamb and sought a more lasting refuge from his troubles, all the responsibilities that tether him to the unpleasantness he was hiding from were jerked taut at once. Ethos business demanded his presence in Aquavy, and as expected his hopes for a warmer reception from his son were dashed soundly. There was precious time with little, silent Prim, but hardly as much as her adoring father would've liked. That took comparatively little time, but the tensions and pains of the short span were worked off by taking the 'scenic route' back to Balamb, tending to matters the Ethos trained him for. It's been a busy handful of weeks of demon-hunting and exorcism, which in itself is especially taxing given that Jesse must achieve through stubbornness fit to browbeat the otherworldly into submission what a true worshipper of the Ethos' god can accomplish through faith alone. Anyway, the day finds him just getting back into town. Or rather, back into town from the other direction. He'd briefly pondered bothering Sigurd at Garden, but his confidence is all kinds of shot at the moment. So he trudges into town, making his way toward the inn.
Or that was the plan at least. A bottle of something home-brewed and nearly caustic is helping him become lost in his thoughts, and those thoughts happen to wander toward a little house where one of his brothers/sons from Etrenank has carried a kink far enough to spawn a lifelong (or so they seem convinced at the moment) commitment. Siggy the cradlerobber, Jesse allows himself to muse with a raspy chuckle while he can still safely get it out of his system. He's a bit surprised when his feet have followed the course of his thoughts and he's not so near the inn where he'd planned to kick his feet up, as the house he's not in any big hurry to set foot in either. And...lo and behold, there's the one figure in this sick drama of a life that still has a shot at salvation...And he doesn't look to be in such good shape.
"Y'know, you're supposed to take your clothes off before you go swimming. Works better, that way." It's like 'hey you', but different, as the gunman strolls up from the town proper.

Startled by the sound of Jesse's voice, Bart's wide, sapphire colored eyes turn toward that direction and he gasps, "Jess!" And Jesse, you're gonna get barreled into by a six foot one inch, golden haired, exiled prince of Aveh, seeking to glomp to you in a bear hug, flattened braid swaying behind him with the motion. See, as much as Bart really loves his brother and tries his damndest to get along with Squall, you're the one person he's found is really free about things, and he can speak his mind to you and not get his ear grabbed or get a 'lecture' about how he should or shouldn't do this that or the other. "Byakko's fur, where have you been?! Haven't seen you in ages!"
This translates to: Stability and sanity are creeping away, help help help.
Letting go after that, he brushing at the bangs that are flattened against his face, sighing ruefully, "Had some trouble at Garden today and Sig is gonna -kill- me when he finds out... provided he doesn't already know."

The only problem Jesse ever has with this sort of thing is that it reminds him how much taller most folks close enough to him to make such overtures of joy and affection are than he is. He -feels- taller than everyone around him, and it's hard not to see Bart as being a bit shorter unless you're actually looking at him instead of remembering stuff. Anyway, he has no problem bearhugging the soggy mess Bart's reduced himself to, letting out a hearty chuckle that's sort of snuck up on him while he was distracted by the warm reception. Bart receives a few pats on the back, and then a few more because Jesse's forgotten he's done that already, and then he settles back to look the youngster over with an appraising eye, settling his attention upon the expression he's met with. There's a lot to be read from the simple question, and it receives an equally simple answer, preceeded by a weary sigh. "Things, Bart. Answering to obligations and the like..." His spirits are forcibly lifted, if only fractionally, as he adds, "But it's all taken care of now." Meaning his ass is staying right -here- for the next little while. Lovely climate and all that. The expression sobers again, concern crossing Jesse's scarred visage for just a moment before an arm is raised to settle across Bart's opposite shoulder as the Commander turns, meaning to lead his young charge away from the house. "Well then. All the more reason for him not to find out, hmm? Let's go somewhere -else- to get you dry.."

Ho ho ho! You think Bart's going to turn down an opportunity to stave off the inevitable? Hell yes! He doesn't seem to mind being patted on the back, though there's a touch of embarassment as he's looked over, seeing as he hasn't had time to dry off yet after getting dumped into the moat at Garden. "Please, you're a godsend, Jess." Nothing else is asked about where the scarred gunman has been, that'll be saved for later, when the prince can then bombard him with all sorts of questions, after his worries about getting into trouble with Sigurd are somehow assailed.
So, Jesse will find that he has no problem or protests from the youth as he turns him around and steers him somewhere else, away from the dreaded house o' doom wherein his fate still awaits him. "Cool, where we going?"

Jesse doesn't exactly ever get around to answering that question. While the pair meanders through the emptying streets in their stark evening contrast of sunlit orange and shadowed bluish-grey, the Etone launches into a tale that may or may not have taken place recently involving a silver mine full of evil...something's. The name he gives them isn't repeatable aloud and he makes a point of saying it with emphasis every time someone happens to pass by. Balamb, not being an especially popular tourist attraction, but if it was and had a guidebook, the publishers would tactfully omit the part of town Bart is lead through. Now, there's no danger here. Not only is it too early out for even the red lamps to be lit, but the criminal element sleeps late here. A nondescript door in an alley of nondescript doors isn't knocked on, but opened with a turn of the knob and slight application of shoulder pressure. 'It sticks', is Jesse's explanation.
The scent of perfume is almost palpable as it crashes out from the rectangular aperture like an intercepting fist. And their path seems to lead -in- to that headache-inducing rosy scent. The narrow, nay cramped parlor within is decorated with what passes for tasteful wallpaper with these sort of people, and old pictures in 'fancy' frames. There are chairs for waiting and a chest of drawers with a vase and flowers atop for no other purpose than to make the place seem more..habitable. Somewhere, there's music. From atop the stairs, drawn by Jesse's now rambling account of a particularly raunchy bit of barracks humor (how the demon-slaying tale bled into -that- is a matter best left unpondered), a pretty, overly painted face topped by mounds of frizzy red curls peeks inquisitively. The woman prepares a frown and dismissal, but pauses to step fully onto the landing to address a familiar face. "Jesse, you're early," she scolds with an almost cute whiny voice. Three guesses what -she- does for a living. Let it suffice to say that she's dressed for the part.
"Calm down, darlin'," the Etone assures, raising a hand for emphasis. "We're not customers just yet. Kid's just having a little trouble, is all. I was kinda hoping we could impose upon your hospitality for just a bit." Now, one is simply going to have to take it on faith that there's a method to Jesse's madness. There's scant evidence to support it as yet.

Even if Jesse doesn't quite answer the question asked, Bart is engrossed and fascinated enough not to worry about it and just follows along. This is one kid who never got out past Yggridsil all that often, and when he did engage 'enemies' with the Sand Pirates... well, it wasn't anything like -that-. So, rather than bother asking and prodding the scarred gunman to provide details as to where he'd been all this time, he just asks for details about the story itself, peppered with gasps and 'wow's and 'no way!'s. You have a rapt audience, Jesse, and surely there are plenty of tales to relate to the youth, too. Take advantage of it.
The scenery changes, but don't think Bart even notices. He's with Jesse, what sort of trouble can he possibly get into? (Don't answer that.) It's not until the door has to be pushed open rather forcefully that the prince even bothers noticing his surroundings. Oh, hey, it's a bit different around here. This is one area Bart hasn't yet wandered to. Guess where he'll be going after this? Ah, more headaches for poor Sigurd.
o_o Whoa. Definitely more headaches for Sigurd. Bart blinks as the perfume hits him square in the face, reaching up to rub at his nose as he idly nods to the scarred gunman as that tale just continues on, even laughing at something said. Following Jesse inside, he can only pause and blink at what he sees. Um... now, Bart's not totally innocent when it comes to women, but this goes beyond his experience and he really has to bite his tongue to keep that blunt mouth of his from saying anything in front of Jesse's 'friend'.

The lady (let's be generous) affects a sweet little pout and rustles downstairs amidst frilly, layered skirts that cover less than they should, building up a little growl as she prepares to accost the gunman. Jesse steps forward with his hands raised in a concilliatory gesture and tsks as he meets her halfway. "It's not like that..." He glances over his shoulder, pondering Bart for a second before adding, "..Yet." He turns back to the girl with his most winning smile-still intact despite or perhaps because of the scars, and explains himself. "I just knew you'd have some dry clothes laying around, and he and I could sit down somewhere and have a bit of a talk in companionable surroundings. Now, I can't think of a nicer place to be than with you girls, so I thought it'd do the kid some good to bring him here. Can we do that? Hell, it's not like I can't pay for it.."
The girl, who as yet hasn't yielded a name, ponders this briefly before murmuring that she'll go check, rushing back up the stairs. Meanwhile, a pair of her fellow employees have peeked around from upstairs and, familiar with the Commander, afford a greater sum of their attention to his young friend. Evidently the wet look suits Bart just fine in their opinion. Jesse turns to grin up at the ladies, who smile politely back and, after sizing the young prince up a bit, retreat to their rooms for the evening's preparations. "You just have this 'troubled' look, Bart. I figured the best cure for your ills would be the time-honored treatment of a woman's hospitality." Well, nookie cures a lot of wounds too, but the obvious potential for that seems to have escaped Jesiah's consideration for the most part.

Pardon Bart, whatever thoughts were troubling him before he ran into Jesse are -totally- put out of mind now that he's in here. In fact, he's feeling a bit self concious standing there in that wet outfit. But... not -that- self concious, since he does smile at the ladies when he realizes he's being stared at, with that lovely Fatima smile. If he weren't damp at all, well, he'd be a lot more animated. The fact that Sigurd will probably skin them both for this isn't really considered either (doesn't really matter what actually goes on here, nookie or no). Sapphire blue eyes finally turn toward the scarred gunman as he 'explains' why he's brought him here. "Oh... sure. Sounds lovely," he says, sounding more than a bit distracted. No more worries over here! Well, what do you expect, taking an eighteen year old, hormonal male in a place like this? Unlike his brother, Bart seems to have more of a fancy for the opposite gender, which is probably good seeing as he's gonna be a King someday.
Nudging Jesse's shoulder, the prince can't help but chuckle then, "I won't tell Sig if you won't." *.* Heck no.

Jesse has the audacity to regard young Prince Fatima with a flimsy mask of innocence, keeping a straight face as he asks with nearly breathless surprise, "Tell Sig what?"
Already the Etone can tell that his young charge has had at least some of his wounds balmed by the friendly environment. Along that line of thinking, he's already decided that after a bit of talking over drinks, he'll turn the lad loose on as many women as can handle him, and retire himself to bounce a favorite on his knee for a while. And stuff. But that comes later. For now, there's catching up to do and embarassing stories about Sigurd to remember, so as to arm his younger brother against future conflicts.
Aneke, as Jesse greets her when reappears,bounces down the stairs with a majestically greying woman in more sober hues in tow. The younger of the pair has evidently done her part in leading the way and heads back up, leaving the two men in the commanding presence of a woman who retains her beauty even with the faint addition of lines to her face. "I am Constanze," he informs young master Fatima, greeting Jesse with a brief flicker of green eyes and a knowing smile before setting him aside in her realm of consideration. "..and you are nearly fit to catch your death, in that." She unfolds her hands as she pivots fluidly, the motion of feet lost within her gown, and gestures for the pair to accompany her. Compared to that movement, anything either man would attempt would be gracelessly clunky, and Jesiah doesn't even try to be quiet about it. The way is lead through the house's bottom story to a room in the back where the elder fellow is bade to sit while Constanze once again focuses upon the young one. "Get out of those," she instructs. "Dry things are being brought to you. We'll see to these, as well as your refreshments." And then, after telling Bart to take off his clothes, she moves to seat herself across a small table from Jesse, who's busy half-dragging slender volumes from a shelf across from him and perusing the titles. Evidently, handling the books at all bothers the woman to no end, which is probably why he does it until she scolds him softly.

Bart merely grins, finding Jesse to be about as good at playing innocent as he is. Which is to say, not at all. But, nothing more is said about it, and hopefully Sigurd won't somehow find out about this. >.>;;
Constanze actually gets a little bow from Bart, which wasn't really something the boy thought of and did on purpose, but it's just a part of the breeding that's been whipped into him (sometimes literally) by Maison and others while in exile in Sairou. The boy is, quite frankly, out of his league with someone who has a commanding presence such as Constanze appears to have, but Bart's the polite sort, too. He follows along quietly, and can't help but look around as the pair are lead to the main floor's back room and then he's instructed to... get out of his wet things. (How tempting it is to say: And into a dry martini? Ahem.) Though he's back to feeling a bit self concious again, he doesn't argue, not with someone like Constanze. The red sleeveless jacket is shed first, but he pauses after that. The scars. o_o It's not something he likes anyone to know about, let alone see. A glance is shot toward Jesse, but the older man is looking at the books. So, steeling his nerves again, he resumes in removing the wet things. No one's looking at the moment anyway, right? All the same, he can't wait for dry things to get here. >.>

Well, on the plus side, he doesn't have to. A pretty thing whose bloodlines evidently mingle the best Hokkan and Sairou could produce, whose favored color leaves one to wonder where the rest of world is going to find any teal-colored lace, glides in with an armload of dry, comfortable clothes for the young prince. She just..slips into the room and carries them right up to him, smiling as though he were wearing a suit and tie. As for the scars, well, if -she- saw them then not a word is said, and if Constanze catches sight of them she's saving her queries and comments for a later time.
"Bart's the kid I told you about, Constanze," Jesse explains once the other girl has come and gone. "His brother was in my squad in the service." Understatement doesn't get much heavier than this.
Constanze nods politely, turning to regard the younger man with a dip of her head. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Bartolomei. Jesse has spoken of you on occasion. Good things, I assure you. A rarity, this, given what he has to say about most everyone else he speaks of." She teases the Commander with a knowing look, dipping her head faintly before clapping her hands twice, sharply. In response to this, a pretty blonde in blue and white brings out a full silver tea service, and a plate of small pastries which are set upon the table before she hurries off, sparing more than a passing glance to Bart in whatever state of dress he's attained by this point.

Quite frankly, Bart's not worried about anyone seeing him in any state of undress. He grew up in Yggridsil, where privacy was a bit hard to attain, seeing as the caverns there weren't really made for people to live in and most were wiiiiiide open for anyone to tramp through. You get used to it. The scars are what has him a little more than self concious, but when the girl hands him dry things and seems not to notice, he relaxes a bit. They're there, of course, and impossible to miss if anyone does happen to look at his back, some of them even snaking around his sides to make it clear it's the mark of a whip that's been left on him, by someone with a cruel hand and strong arm.
Bart listens quietly and unobtrusively as Jesse explains him to Constanze, slipping a loose shirt over his head and then slipping into a pair of pants that somehow fit him almost perfectly. Gotta give the ladies credit, but then, women are uncanny about that sort of thing. The blonde braid is undone, since it's ruined anyway and he'd have to take the time to redo it. So, golden hair is left to fan out over his shoulders and get into his eyes as he addresses Constanze in a polite manner, "He doesn't know me that well yet, Miss Constanze." A slight grin and then a shrug from the lad. Now he's feeling a lot better, dry and no longer revealing those scars at all. He doesn't even boggle at the fact that she knows his full name, so long as she doesn't know his last. Of course, when the tea and pastries are brought in, the prince is too busy looking at the lovely girl in blue to notice. One can even track his gaze through the room, following her until she's left again. His gaze lingers at the door a moment or two longer before he slowly approaches wherever Jesse and Constanze are sitting.

Jesse sees fit to stand and procure a third chair from the corner of the room after biting short a bit of murmuring to Constanze, who receives a grin from him as she poises her hands to clap yet again and have another pretty creature come in to see to the young prince's needs. The Etone carts the chair over and sets it down for Bart to use, before settling into his own once more.
"Please," the matron instructs, reaching to draw her hand delicately across the young prince's, "It is simply Constanze. You share my parlor, and in that we are friends here." She begins to pour tea for everyone, and without looking up from this task observes, "There were matters you gentlemen wished to discuss? If the matter becomes sensitive I can excuse myself, but by all means, speak freely. Anything you desire will be provided." Jesse, ever the bastion of maturity, flashes his young cohort a grin that spells it out plainly. Yes, Bart, she means -anything-. Never let it be said that Jesiah Black didn't know how to have a good time. And since he's far from the most gracious of hosts, he sub-contracted out. ;)

The next pretty creature to come in gets the prince's attention pretty darn fast, and then finds himself looking back at Constanze again as she touches his hand. Too much to concentrate on. *.* Matters to discuss? What? Huh? Bart looks over at Jesse for a moment and can't help but grin back at the etone. He knows what the other is up to and doesn't seem to mind at all. Besides, Sigurd wouldn't do something like this, as far as Bart is concerned. Oh he's heard tales of a much wilder brother back in the day, but you'd never know it -now-. Anything, she said. -Anything-? Jesse will be looked at again, a golden eyebrow lifted in askance. Because if that's the case, he'll take that pretty blonde girl in blue who wandered through here earlier. Doesn't say so, yet, but that's definitely what's on his mind. He doesn't say much of anything, at the moment, actually, cause this isn't his forte at all. There are no brothels in Yggridsil, after all.

Corrupting the youth of the world, ah, fun, no?

What kind of shithole place doesn't have brothels? Jesse would be bound for Aveh in a heartbeat if he knew that such a travesty of organized rebellion was being perpetrated. What do those Aveh men -fight- for, then? Each other? That would explain Sigurd at least, but...Ignorance is truly bliss, but in Jesse's case it's more to the benefit of everyone around him. Ahem.
"Have a biscuit," Jesse instructs, handing a little pastry (not a biscuit, incidentally) to Bart upon a napkin. He's got a neutral look smoothed over his grin, but it's gratifying to see such healthy interest in a young man's eyes. If only Billy were as keen on girls as he was with the damned Ethos. Marrying one's work is as good as...Let's just stave off any grotesque analogies, shall we? Anyway, it's enough to make the man sigh inwardly, so he stops thinking along those lines and focuses on the present now that he's made his bid to anchor young Fatima's thoughts to the present. Time for pooty later, kiddo. "How'd you wind up getting drenched, if you don't mind me asking?" the Etone queries, evidencing fine manners in the way he sips his tea, rather like a gentleman. Constanze has settled back to play silent hostess, perfectly content with the state of things in her chambers. He had meant to ask something more...relevant, like how things were in the household..but honestly, he's not sure he wants to know. Sigurd and Kahr were a couple he could live with, but this Squall fellow is going to take some getting used to. So, since a flash of female skin seems to have set Bart's mind at ease, Jesse will stick to some idle chitchat before letting his charge free for recess.

No, no, not Aveh, just Yggridsil. If there are brothels in Aveh, well, Bart wouldn't know, he never really wandered into that city, though it's where he was born and where he's supposed to be a King. Of course, there are, so Jesse can be spared a trip out there to set the wrong things right.
Bart wrinkles his nose at Jesse when he reads that expression and then there's the question right afterwards. So, rather than answer right away, he takes a bite of the 'biscuit' and makes no comment about it not being a biscuit really. After that, he finally replies, "Got dunked in the moat at Garden." It's a common enough ritual there, Bart just wasn't expecting it, and the situation surrounding it wasn't all that pleasant, either. Bart's used to making friends rather easily and not at all used to handling bullies. Gotta love growing up in relative isolation.

They used to do stuff like that at Jugend all the time. Jesse has to work rather hard to stay rooted in the present as a wash of warm memories threaten to carry him back to the days of his own harassment and his harassment of others. He hopes, now, that one day Bart can look fondly upon his own humilaition. The Etone grins widely and bobs his head, giving voice to a knowing chuckle. "Aw, the only do that if they like you. What you've got to be really wary of is being ignored." It's true. A brief moment of wisdom inspires Jesse to withold a lengthier explanation of how these things work, particularly since he's got a good enough grasp of Bart's origins to understand what he's in for and what he'll have to do to make it stop. It's not the easiest thing to advise someone on. After munching down another biscuit and gleefully growling along with Constanze's correction as to what it really is, Jesse declares, "It's an important rite of passage. There'll be a lot more where that came from. It's lots of fun when you're not the guy on the receiving end. But it passes. I promise you that much..it does pass."

"-Like- me?" Bart replies, settling back in his chair with a posture he doesn't usually assume unless he's in very relaxed setting. Such as this. Most of the time, he'd get cuffed for slouching. Kings don't slouch, after all. So Bart better not either. He grins at Jesse after that and shakes his head dubiously, but it doesn't last, shrugging his shoulders a bit as he loses interest in the rest of the pastry, and the girls too, for that matter. Nothing like having reality come crashing back for a moment. He's just been reminded that he eventually has to go home and face his brother. In all honesty, it's not Sigurd he's really dreading having to see, it's Squall... that one has a razor sharp tongue on him and doesn't seem to mind cutting Bart to the core without a care. "He won't do it to me again. I'd show you why, but I'm afraid I don't have much control over it." Of this, he sounds rather sure, and whatever it is, it probably has to do with why he's in so much trouble with Sigurd, or at least why he'll eventually be in so much trouble. Quick, quick, distract him!

Jesse 's eyes widen, brows arching as tab A slides into slot B and a correlation is made that has him genuinely impressed. "No need to show me, I know what you're talking about. Is it fire, then? Like Sigurd?" He pauses a moment to lower the cup he's just sipped from, canting his head slightly. "That's one definite way to discourage bullies and pranksters. All that is, is a test of your strength and when you show 'em what you've got, that's usually enough to satisfy their curiosity." He tries to be vague for Constanze's benefit, oblivious to the fact that SeeDs comprise some of her clientele and she's heard (and seen!) far stranger things. Or is convinced she has. Balambese aren't exactly jaded, but they know what to take for granted. "Anyway, enough about that...I think that lovely blonde number that brought us tea needs some help in the kitchen. Oh, and if for any reason you should go upstairs, just remember that if you don't leave your room, they send a girl up to check..and when she comes back down, if there's no word from you, another one comes up later." The Ethos' collection plates are serving a higher cause this day, yea verily.