[PRP] Cafe cleansing (Oliver & Renard)

[Melancholies]

It was a quiet corner place, if you were talking customer traffic.

The actual cafe was a little out of the way (and definitely further than Equinox that he typically frequented), but Oliver was in the market for adventure... and contemplation, to be honest. His thumb was smooth and he couldn't stop rubbing it on his drink glass; it was obvious that his focus was not on the array of school notes and music sheets in front of him. He was looking busy, mostly.

There were two people on stage, one manning an impressive cello and the other situated in front of an upright piano. Usually he'd be paying the duo more mind, but as it stood the music served as ample background noise for his unmanageable musing.

Magic, magic, magic, magic, it always came back around to ******** magic. First the moonwalker thing, and then the Ezra thing, and—

Someone outside stepped on a grasshopper. A hand went to his head to knead it exasperatedly.

shibrogane

 

[shibrogane]

Renard wasn't sitting far away. He looked exactly like what he was: an Adult Professional taking a break from his fortress of solitude. His blazer was cuffed up to just below his elbows and his collar was rakishly popped. Even the threads of silver in his hair made him look distinguished, Interesting, rather than older.

He'd also been glancing at Oliver over the top of his laptop screen for the past ten minutes. The boy hadn't noticed because he was too preoccupied, probably.

"Something wrong," said Renard, who kind of had Dad Aura when he used that tone of voice. "I didn't think that they went so sharp on that last note."

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

Well that made Oliver jump. His eyes shot back open, and at once they met with the man who had called out to him in the first place. "No," He started to say, "It's nothi—" and then he paused as a bizarre recollection came over him. Surely, he hadn't met this man anywhere before, and yet...

"Have... we met?" His eyebrows knitted together as he went through his mental catalog of faces.

Either way, it was difficult to say things keep dying, which is normal, except now I'm aware of every single one of em'. Especially with how people were with magic...

shibrogane

 

[shibrogane]

"We have," said Renard. "We worked on an art project together?..." The sigil. He raised his eyebrows.

He didn't shut up his laptop, but his attention was obviously on Oliver exclusively.

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

Oliver was mouthing the words art project with it suddenly dawned on him, "Oh, right, that." His face settled into something caught between curiosity and caution. "There were quite a few reactions when you showed up, I recall now..." What was his name? Renard? Something. He remembered him from the eighties too, though he hardly looked like Sibyl; then again, December seemed like forever ago...

"Sorry, my mind hasn't been on top of things lately." It showed too, with the way his eyes tracked the sound around the cafe—he wasn't very focused—and his skin seemed like it was as warm as it should be. Either way. "But still, we haven't formally introduced; I'm Oliver."

He sighed. Was this going to be another b*****d that hunted him down later for some inexplicable reason?

"I guess you could say there was a problem earlier." His head settled on his fist, attention floating around the room again, "It isn't anything anyone could fix, I don't think."

shibrogane

 

[shibrogane]

"It's quite alright," said Renard. "I wasn't sure it was you until you--" he mimicked Oliver's gesture, a hand to his forehead, and then leaned his forearms against the table. "Renard Leroux." He didn't offer a hand to shake. "I apologize if I seem standoffish. I don't like touching people."

He watched Oliver for a long minute. Then he said, "You may be surprised. May I sit with you?"

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

Truth be told, Oliver wasn't entirely sure what made that gesture recognizable, but whatever. Instead he shrugged, "No offense taken." Renard Leroux, huh. What a fancy sounding name, "I'm not exactly a fan of touching people either. You can come over if you'd like."

He was picking up the papers that were scattered all across the table, trying to make sense of his hasty system. What had he even been doing here? Ah, forget it.

Once he was adequately organized and Renard was adequately seated, he spoke again after a few second-guess fidgets. "I'm not even sure how to word it," he started to say; nevermind the fact he could even talk about some of the things plaguing him out of sheer... well, being unable to. His voice got very quiet, easily meshed into the quiet sounds of the cafe, "It's not that I see dead things or anything, but like... every time something dies, it feels like a slap in the face." He looked rather sheepish admitting it, "No, maybe slap in the face is the wrong way to say it..." He shook his head.

"Like just now," he used as an example, "Someone stepped on a bug outside." Oliver frowned, "Except that... times.... however many times people step on bugs throughout a day. It's a lot. Frankly I'm tired of it."

shibrogane

 

[shibrogane]

Renard had put his laptop away in exchange for what looked like a pretty fancy leather-bound planner. He had a sharpie pen out, and was tapping the capped end against the book in time to the music as he listened to Oliver's description. "That sounds like thanatophilic clairvoyance," he said. He sounded interested. "Interesting... but I imagine you find it quite disruptive."

He looked down at his planner, and drew a slightly wobbly circle. "How long have you been aware of deaths around you?"

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

"Thanatophilic... clairvoyance." Oliver said the word slowly, tasted out the syllables. He looked relieved, in a way, to have a word to put towards whatever it was that he was experiencing. "A few days ago." He replied quietly, his gaze finding the drink sitting on top of his table. A finger went to worry the handle, though he didn't pick it up. The circle Renard had drawn drew in his interest, but he didn't say anything about it.

"It's just bizarre," He went on to say, "I mean, if it feels this way to notice a bug dying or—or when my cat catches a lizard on the patio—I hate to imagine what it would feel like for a human." He shuddered. No hospitals for a while. The thought made him look a little queasy.

"It'd be more manageable if I could just... turn it off." Oliver sighed, "Or do something to stop it, I guess."

shibrogane

 

[shibrogane]

There did seem to be a pattern to whatever the hell it was that Renard was drawing. Three equilateral triangles, a few connecting lines... "Mhmm. Clairvoyance that largely draws attention to death, or people near death. It can be quite disturbing, I've heard." Okay, but do you have a solution, Renard? "It's a powerful tool. A clairvoyant with an affinity for death can even pull a person's soul back from the brink..."

He paused in his doodling. "It can be controlled, though I don't believe it can be turned off. I can teach you a few tricks, if you're willing."

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

Oliver's eyebrows shot up, though he was still watching the drawing. It didn't seem to be notes or whatever he was thinking it'd turn out to be. His mind drew a sudden parallel to the canvas paper Ezra had—the floral symbol, the corners, his thumb print... his fingers were worrying against each other now.

"Bring a persons soul back?" That was what caught his attention initially. "That sounds... dangerous, almost." He sat up straighter, "If you have any insight on how to control it though... it'd help me sleep a little better." Ollie gave a weak laugh, sheepish, but too true.

shibrogane

 

[shibrogane]

"Mhmm," said Renard. "It used to be a quite impressive feat of magic, before the full consequences of an undeath bond were known." He tapped the end of his pen against his drawing, and then nodded. "Of course. What do you know of mindfulness exercises, Oliver?"

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

Undeath bond? He stashed that thought away for further exploration, best not to overstep. Now, mindfulness exercises, that was a term he was familiar with after lots of late night 'help i have too much anxiety' google searches. Plus, Elliot was really into that yoga s**t, and that was sort of along the same path right? Kind of.

"I haven't really tried anything like them." He admitted, "But... they're where you sort of..." He motioned vaguely, "It's like focusing in on yourself mostly, right? The deep breathing meditating sort of stuff." Or at least as far as he understood it.

shibrogane

 

[shibrogane]

"Precisely." Renard favored Oliver with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Though I find the 'deep breathing meditating sort of stuff' to be rather unhelpful when it comes to managing my own abilities. My preferred analogy is--have you ever done a polar bear swim? Where you go swimming when the air is below freezing? When you first enter the water, it's unbearable. That is, in this analogy, where you are now."

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

Oliver was following him... sort of... vaguely. "So... it's unbearable, but after the initial shock, you numb to it?" He took a sip of his water, carefully mulling this over. "Or get used to it, rather..."

shibrogane