WHO: Ellie Fairfellow and Orfeo Faustino WHAT: A faery meets a wooden boy WHERE: The midway, Ellie's booth WHEN: During carnival hours RATING: Low STATUS: Complete
The carnival was his type of place. The smells and sounds filled his very being. He had tempted his palate with all manner of sweets that the place offered, only the most extreme flavors penetrating his nominal taste buds. The boy-man, in his blue vest, black pants and clean white shirt was seemingly strolling through the carnival, a simple patron.
Of course any one who looked on him longer then a second would notice the odd glassiness of his eyes, the way one was a deep blue whilst the other was a sea green. Or the odd way when they brushed past him his body was like a tree trunk, stiff, unyielding, the skin as supple as any flesh as they hurried by, but as firm as any wood.
He had been meeting his neighbors in his new home, glancing at the other attractions with that simple boyish wonder that he had for anything new and anything that made him curious. But when he set his eyes on the faery girl with a line of children waiting to get their faces painted he felt his face stretch into a broad grin and took a place in line.
Easily the tallest, it wouldn't be difficult to see him slip in. He seemed to chat happily with the others waiting in line, almost child-like himself in his excitement.
Ellie wasn't much a fan of the winter months. Not that the cold affected her much. She simply didn't like it when child after child after child asked her why she didn't look like a frost faery or a sugar plum faery or a winter faery queen. It got old! With so many days in winter, she couldn't possibly dress like a winter fae for every single one. That was boring. And she did so like buying new costumes and getting to try them out. Normal fae wore far more outlandish things when it came to clothing...and some didn't even wear clothing at all. It was always entertaining to see what humans came up with when creating faery costumes for Halloween or other things.
As it was, she was dressed as a woodland faery for that day. Her face paint was purple to match. She'd glamoured her hair to make it appear a deep brown color with a slight sheen of purple and green along some strands. And her wings? Deep green veins and still near to transparent. Still, she got the question about why she wasn't a winter faery. And she promptly changed the subject from those questions again and again.
She'd glanced up from her work for a moment to see a tall young man get into the line. He was talking to the children around him, which didn't seem all that odd. Still, she kept an eye on him as she went about her work. She painted two flower masks and a zombie face before the young man in question had gotten to be next. The last little girl she sent on her way with a sparkly rainbow before she was smiling up at the tall young man. "Looks like you're next," she said, her voice cheerful as always.
Orfeo did come off as a bit strange in line with a bunch of children. He didn't seem like a deviant, however, he wasn't trying to touch any one, far from it, he wouldn't even bend over to talk to them. No, he stood up and spoke to them like he would normally speak to any one. And he kept the topics to the excitement surrounding them.
When it came time for his turn he nearly sprinted to the stool and sat, spinning a moment before facing her.
“A real faery. I thought I'd never see the day! Wings and all!” He staring at her, but it was more of a curious, taking in every detail of her stare than a leer (as a perverted man might do). “Tell me, is your paint magic as well? I do hope it's not permanent, I have a show, you know, and while it might be fun to go with something ludicrous scrawled across my face, I figure it won't be FREAKISH enough for it to really BLEND.” He spoke very quickly, with a slight accent, his teeth clacking a bit in his skull, as if his jaw wasn't correctly attached to his head at the moment.
He hadn't been causing any trouble with the kids, that was true. She'd had her fair share of dealing with that too. But he wasn't doing anything suspicious. Just talking. It was a little odd, but she really wasn't one to judge. After all, she rather animatedly chatted with children day in and day out with her job. It was actually rather fun, so long as the kids themselves were friendly enough. The time for conversation with children was over, though, when he came running up to the stool before spinning around. Excitement? That was what it seemed like.
He was calling her a real faery, which was also odd. Little kids did that all the time, but that was because they truly believed the words. Older patrons just thought she was a girl in a costume. Even if they couldn't explain how the wings joined so well with her back. But the young man spoke with such conviction. The curious stare wasn't really all that bad, though Ellie was a little intrigued by the glassy look of his eyes, and how they both weren't the same color. Interesting. As it was, he was speaking so fast that she couldn't get a word in edgewise. And there was the clacking of his teeth. Very odd. And yet she couldn't help but be curious herself.
"My paint's just paint unless you want it to be more than that." She didn't bother beating around the bush about her magic being real. "But it's not permanent. Completely washable." He'd mentioned having a show, and she tipped her head to the side a bit, curiosity painted all over her features. "You have a show...so does that mean you're one of the new carnival workers?"
“Oh good.” He sat with his hands between his knees, like an anxious child, still staring at her, unblinking. “I am new, yes, yes. I just came into the fold, so to speak. I haven't met any one yet. What kind of magic can you do?” Questions always seemed to leave his mouth in one way or another, he never stopped it seemed, questioning.
The young man in front of her was a strange specimen, he seemed comfortable discussing such things around humans, never mind if they thought him crazy. Humans, after all, were dull, pointless meat sacks. Not worth the time or effort to explain things to.
“I don't quite know what I want...I am sure you could just surprise me!” Because she was an artist! And no one should dictate what an artist drew, even on a human canvas. She would find if she moved in closer that his skin was very smooth, too smooth, poreless. There was a woodsy scent coming off him, the scent of a forest in winter clung to him, with an underlying smell of the sweets he'd recently consumed.
No blinking either, it seemed. Most would find it unnerving, but Ellie didn't really. She'd seen many strangers things in the realm of the fae. There were few things that unsettled her anymore. "I see. Well, now you've met me. My name's Ellie. Though I'm pretty sure at least three of the little girls behind you will insist on calling me Tinkerbell." A bit of a chuckle passed her lips, the sound very musical and light. As for his question, she was eager to answer. "I can glamour things to change how they look. I can make illusions. And other little things that come in handy. Can't reveal all my secrets."
He was strange, yes, but everyone with the carnival was in some way or another. And she was rather certain that the humans around, aside from the kids, put any stock in her being a real faery. "Surprise you, huh...well, do you have any favorite colors?" Sure, he could give her free reign to paint what she wanted, but if she asked what colors he preferred, then at least he'd be more likely to like it. Ellie leaned in a little closer, taking a good look at his face. The skin was so smooth...no pores. And he smelled almost woodsy. She wanted to reach out and touch, but she didn't. That could be saved for when she was actually painting.
“Ellie is much better then Tinkerbell, I would think.” Orfeo commented. “I am Orfeo Faustino,” he accented his name in the proper Italian fashion. “Humans like their little names...don't they?” He tilted his head to the side asking another question of her. He thought for a moment about her powers. “Those could be quite useful. I'm afraid I have no powers...which is a pity, considering...” Being able to create illusions, hell, make a tree grow would make his life so much easier.
“Purple, perhaps, blue, is always nice as well. And silver.” He liked the colors that looked best on him. He couldn't help but feel a little vain, his father had worked so hard on this form, after all, it would be a pity not to decorate it in the best colors and ways possible.
“They like to call me Pinnochio...when they see my show.” He grinned oddly, as if annoyed by the very idea, but amused by it as well. It was an unsettling mask of a grin that covered his face. Those glassy eyes allowing for no emotion, beyond his grinning mouth.
"Considering it is my real name, I'd say so. Besides, Ellette Fairfellow is a better name for a faery than Tinkerbell." Everyone knew that the sound of ringing bells caused some fae pain anyway. Why on earth would you ever name one after the bloody things? "It's nice to meet you Orfeo. And yes, humans do like their names. Fancy some of them quite clever, I imagine." So many questions. Not that she wasn't a naturally inquisitive soul herself. "They're very useful. I can look however I want to whenever I want to. Like right now. My hair is actually bright red and my wings have blue veins instead of green." Glamour was very, very useful. "Not everyone has powers. There are other things that make them special."
Purple, blue and silver. Three colors that she rather liked to use in her face paint designs. "I think I can work with that." Her mind was already thinking up designs as she reached for her pots of purple, blue and silver paint. She picked up a brush, lightly tapping the wooden end against her cheek as she thought it all out.
The name Pinnochio was mentioned, and she started in on a Shel Silverstein poem. Not on purpose. Her mind just made the connection. And she did so love poems. "...they cried, 'Come on Pinnochio. We'll entertain the folk-io. On puppet strings you'll dance and sing. From Timbuktu to Tokyo..." She barely noticed that she'd done it, going right back into normal conversation. "I suppose I can see why now." Pinnochio was a wooden boy. A puppet with no strings. And Orfeo did bear a resemblance to the tale. Though he was much more real-looking than any wooden puppet, surely. "Do you perform in the freakshow, then?" As she spoke, she picked up a sponge and dipped it into the silver paint. She dabbed around his eyes in the general shape of a mask, leaving a silver sheen behind on that too-smooth skin.
“Agreed. I find that the real is often better then the fakes and frauds.” He didn't like fake trees, grass, fake anything. It had to be real. Otherwise what was the point of it? Only humans needed things that would last forever. Sometimes he liked their creations, however. But he did not like being tricked. Fakery would often be found in places like this. He was glad that this carnival was different. Everything was real, down to the faery who was now painting his face, the brush naturally moving along the firm surface, much easier then it would of against true skin.
He listened to her eyes intently tilted to watch her mouth move as she said the lines of the poem.He didn't particularly like the character, but he did enjoy the idea that he may have had something to do with it's inspiration. Though they had gotten the story all wrong.
“Yes, a wooden boy is quite entertaining. They got that much true in the story. People are scared sometimes. Others they find me funny. But none can truly explain it. I haven't worked in a carnival in a long time.” Not since the last one had been full of fakes and thieves.
It was almost funny. She glanced over Orfeo's shoulder, seeing the reaction of some of the children's parents to the talk of fakes and frauds. Some of them rolled their eyes, as if they just assumed that everything around them with the carnival was fake. But if it was, how was it that Ellie's wings were moving? They slowly and comfortably fluttered open and closed. It was difficult always keeping them still, after all. "Real is most always better, I agree." Fakes liked to imitate the real thing. And imitations were, more often than not, nothing compared to the originals. Though some human inventions were fascinating, she had to admit.
Once the layer of silver had dried, she started in with a brush dipped in the deep midnight blue. The brushed trailed along his skin so easily. It was just so smooth...and it didn't give like human skin did. It didn't move at all, actually. Strange as compared to what she was used to, but it didn't make her stop. She kept on, transferring the design in her mind onto his face as accurately as she possibly could.
"People can't explain a lot of the things here. How does the face-paint girl have wings that move? How does Izabela have scales, fangs and a forked tongue that look so real that they could be off of a real snake? How does our ringmaster have fangs in his smile?" Humans didn't understand. Many thought it was all fake. But Ellie also thought that deep down, on some level, that they knew everything was real. "This carnival is quite different, you'll find. Never a dull moment. And really, the show's always better when you know that what you're looking at isn't a fraud." She chuckled again. "We bring legends, fairytales and horror stories to life."
“Which is the fun of it. You never know what might be lurking around the next corner. In the next tent.” He liked the surprises and the thrill of seeing something and KNOWING it was real and getting to see it up close and personal, much as he was doing with the face painting faerie. He enjoyed her closeness, he could almost sense that glittering power in her finger tips.
“Children are best, I think. They know.” He glanced to the side where he could see with his excellent peripheral vision the children waiting eagerly behind him. “They believe, they know. And some of them will hold onto it forever. Other will simply forget and hypothesize, they will make it unreal in their mind and forget about truth.” In general, Orfeo felt he was critical of humans. But he felt someone had to be. Someone had to let them know that they were not the only one's in the world and that they did not rule it. Vampires, werewolves, creates of horror and peace, they could take over if they wanted to. They simply chose not to rise against the humans.
For what reason, he did not know.
But perhaps it was the same reason that he never did much of that. Because they usually found themselves alone, whereas human congregated in large groups. Over powering anything that could be considered a threat. Anything suspicious.
“How's it coming?” He was getting antsy, having not moved in a while. Sometimes he felt afraid he would grow roots if he stayed still too long.
He was right, really. Children always seemed to believe in the things that they couldn't see. It was children's voices that she heard insisting to parents that the carnival attractions were real. From the snake-girl to the mermaid to the fire-breathers. They did know. "Innocence makes it easier to believe. They know because they don't know better. At least, they don't know better in the eyes of humans." Children did grow up, however. They gradually forgot the things that they'd thought real in their youth. "It's kind of sad. I suppose we can only hope that they choose to remember the truths they know." Her attention to her painting didn't falter in the slightest, even as she spoke. It was a talent. She was the resident face-painter for a reason.
She'd moved on from the blue to the purple, layering a new look into the design. It was entirely abstract. Something she'd come up with off the top of her head. Everything was so symmetrical that is was nearly perfect to the eye. "It's coming together well." She always new when the people she was painting were getting antsy. Kids couldn't stay still for very long at all. "Just another few seconds and I'll be finished." She added her finishing touches, making sure everything was just so before setting her brushes aside.
"There...I think it looks nice." Picking up a mirror, Ellie held it up so that he could see himself. An abstract mask of the three colors he'd asked for surrounded his eyes. The designs flowed together well, complimenting one another. "What do you think?"
“Such a sad, sad thing....growing up.” He nodded his agreement. “Glad I never did it!” Which was obvious, considering how antsy he was getting. Then again he was just excited about the face painting. He perked up brightly as she stated it looked nice and that she was almost done.
He was anxious to look in the mirror as she finished and so he took the mirror to get every angle he could of his new face. “Oh yes! That is just perfect!” He was giddy. “And I have the perfect thing to wear with it!” Because this was art on his face and so the rest of him needed art as well. “Thank you very much, Ellie!” He hopped off her stool and got it ready for the next child.
“I'll keep my eyes open for you again, I might have to keep this for the show!” Because sometimes it was fun to have a little fantasy to your act!
A wooden boy could never grow up, that much was true. And he most definitely resembled a child in his level of patience toward the end of her work. But she didn't mind it. She knew how to soothe impatient children and others alike. This time she didn't need to, though, because she'd finished shortly after he inquired. Things had gone much faster given the state of the "canvas." Ellie watched him as he looked at himself in the mirror. He seemed genuinely pleased, and that made her happy. What was the point of what she did if the patrons (or carnival workers) didn't enjoy the finished product.
"I'm glad you like it," she said with a smile. "You're more than welcome! Feel free to come and find me whenever you'd like. I'm kind of hard to miss. You know, with the wings and all."