A Story and a Song...

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Who: Diarmuid Ua Duibhne (smallspot ) and anyone who wants to run into a cute little kid.
Where:  An open grassy area near Building One.
When:  8-19, in the afternoon
Format: Starting in prose, but please use whatever you want to reply!
Summary:   There are a lot of fun ways to spend a warm afternoon, though, for a bitty knight the best way to spend it is...training!  Oh, and sometimes stopping to sing songs to his 'family.'
Warnings: Cuteness?

For once Diarmuid is using his cloak as something other than a blanket.  Right now, he is carefully spreading it out on the grass so that he can set his new toys on it.  With him are three small stuffed animals he got at the end of the festival--two adult swans and a baby one.

"Here is the father swan," Diarmuid carefully sets the first of the adult swans onto the cloak--the one he has picked to represent his foster father, Aengus.  He then sets the other adult swan next to the first, this one representing his foster mother, Caer, "And here is the mother swan!  And here is the baby swan who isn't lost anymore!"  The boy sets the baby swan in front of the two adults and then jumps up and claps his hands happily.

"Now the whole family is together again!  Watch me, Father!  Watch me, Mother!  I'll show you what everyone has been teaching me while I've been away!"  The boy bows to the toys and then picks his practice sword up off the ground.  He takes a few steps away before starting to practice the new sword moves he's been taught by Suzaku and some of the others who have offered to train him.

He knows that the toys aren't really his family, of course, but over the last few days he's been more homesick than usual and talking to them like they are helps for some reason.  Once he's practiced for a while, Diarmuid will sit down by the toys for a rest and to sing some happy songs to his 'family.'  After a few songs, he will jump up and start practicing again.  Diarmuid isn't really paying attention to anything going on around him, but he will be happy to talk to anyone who approaches him and be even happier should anyone decide they want to train along with him.

Comments

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Diarmuid shakes his head sending his dark hair flying and seeming to dislodge a small blue and green butterfly from...somewhere. The butterfly flutters around before settling onto the boy's shoulder.

"It doesn't matter if you are just a minor Lord! Father said I should always call people Lord as a sign of respect," Diarmuid gives Jack a curious look. "What haven't you practiced? Are you just too busy? Do you just not like it? Were you sick? I hope not!"

He knows now that people can get sick from not having enough contact with others. It's not a problem he has had, but he has run into those who are having that problem.

[fixated]

Jack watched the butterfly for only a brief moment before turning his gaze back to the child and he put on an appropriately exaggerated sigh as he looked away, tugging at his sleeves.

"It's... Well, it's rather painful to admit, but I seem to have mislaid my sword. If I had known I would be called here, I would have remembered to bring it with me."

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"Maybe you didn't mislay it! Maybe this place didn't let you bring it?" Diarmuid holds up his practice sword and motions to it, "It let me bring this, but I know someone else who it didn't let bring their weapon. But don't worry! There are lots of shops in the Third District that sell stuff. I am sure one sells weapons too! It's not the same as having your own sword would be, but it's better than nothing!"

[fixated]

Jack smiled and then simply shook his head. "I'm afraid that still won't be for quite some time. Swords cost money after all, especially a good one. Ah... if only I were young!"

Because Jack is so, so very old at twenty-four. He's practically ancient. Why, one day spent in honest labor would likely break his back! Or not, but Jack enjoys the playacting.

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This last little bit of playacting finally breaks through to the boy and makes him realize why the other man seems to be acting a little oddly. He giggles and starts playing along, "Yes! You are so very old! What will you do? I would suggest you go save a princess, but you are too old for that!"

Diarmuid laughs again and runs over to his toys and picks up a pouch that is sitting amongst them. He opens it and pulls out a card, "Didn't you get one of these when you came? It has money on it. Only a little.... Maybe not enough for someone so old?"

[fixated]

Jack just followed the boy closer, trailing after him like a concerned parent for an only child. Indulging, but careful.

"Hmm... of course, but I'm afraid I've used most of the money on my living expenses. But I'll think of something, I'm sure, and in the meantime, I'm afraid I'll have to leave the princess in your tender care."

He looked Diarmuid up and down sternly.

"Do you think you're up for the job?"

On can never be too careful after all.

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"Good luck! I am sure you will think of something! Being old isn't all bad. It means you know a lot too," the boy nods before taking a moment to tuck his card safely back into his pouch. Once he is done, he looks back up at Jack. For a moment he seems confused about the princess before remembering they are playing and smiling.

"I will take good care of her!" He bows, looking as serious as a child his age can, "Or at least I will once I am older. I won't be a very good knight if I can't protect a princess!"

[fixated]

Jack nodded solemnly. "Then practice hard and hone your skill. Should you need a sparring partner, I'm sure we could arrange something." He paused. "Once I acquire a sword of course."

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"I will practice hard! I promise!" The boy bows toward Jack for a moment before rising again, "I am in room 2-17. Where are you staying? That way I can come and find you if I need someone to practice with."

[fixated]

"Hmm... that's not too far from my rooms at all. I'm staying in room 3-23 in building #1. If you can't find me, just leave a note under the door. I'm afraid that's all that suffices for mail here." Which is simply a pity. A well penned letter is so much more intimate then those silly touchscreens. Where was the labor? Where was the love?

Sadly lacking, from his meager experience.

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"3-23! Oh good! I know all those numbers," Diarmuid grins at Jack before his expression falls slightly. "I can't write you a note. I don't know how to read or write. They don't really do those things where I am from. Just the druids...sometimes. I am learning my numbers! Whenever someone tells me their room number, I make them write it down so I can look at the number. I have a good memory!"

[fixated]

He looks positively shocked.

"You can't read or write?" Jack can hardly fathom this travesty. Then again, he could. How often had he used that to his own advantage, stealing valuable property right from underneath the noses of the common street urchin? "Surely this place must have a school!"

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Diarmuid shrugs, "I don't know if they have those here. Father and Druid Roc are teaching me at home. I know how to write my name in ogham already! No one uses that here, and I don't recognize the markings they do use. I'm learning. It's just slow, but I won't give up!" He jumps slightly as if to emphasize the point, "I have been told it's important for me to learn, so I am going to learn!"