Every Thorn Has Its Rose [Kard]

After a pleasant walk back to the titular Le Théâtre de Petits Cauchemars –– or ‘Little Nightmare’ as the locals called it –– Facade was even more sure in his decision to invite Rose along. He already imagined the conversations to be had, the friendships to be made, and what grand adventures awaited the two of them. Already he had nurtured so many great experiences between himself and the non-human community, providing not only a safe place to dwell but an opportunity to grow. A small staff of comrades provided services such as job preparation, legal representation, and counseling. Currently, the facility house ten individuals, all in their teens and twenties and all on their own wayward paths. They comprised Liev’s band of vagabonds, a motley crew of all sorts. One such individual greeted the duo at the door.

Voodoo, a man anatomically correct tattoos of bones on his entire body, flashed a smile. Dressed all in black, bald, and quite lanky, he made for a rather imposing but entirely appropriate doorman and even spoke in a cockney accent. “‘allo, allo, allo, what have we ‘ere?” he beamed, betraying the tough guy exterior he initially eluded to. “A new friend, I see yes I do, and good ol’ Facade to boot. Welcome to Little Nightmare, where the place is like a dream. I’m Voodoo, and I voodon’t believe I know your name.”


Facade clapped at Voodoo’s terrible pun and answered for the younger individual. “Rose,” he informed his colleague. “We had the pleasure of dancing to Bohemian Rhapsody no too long ago.”

“Wha––“ Voodoo began, gawking. “An’ you lot did it without me, eh? That how it is?” another grin before elbowing Facade gently and opening the door, ushering the two inside and out of the frigid night. “You two stay warm. Swell to meet ya, Rose.”

Once inside, Rose would be treated to a warmly lit foyer with a grand staircase down the middle, connected to a long hallway on each side that lead to the mezzanine. Ornate carvings of angels held lighting fixtures while a glistening golden floor spread from wall to wall. Posters of past penny dreadfuls adorned the walls as well as advertisements for the occasional dark opera, while photos of former theatre troupes also served as decoration. Clearly, this place had a long and storied history, one once obscured by darkness, now highlighted with some modern illumination. The facility had gone a facelift as it served as a home for those less fortunate but had kept all of its historical significance and original decor.

Putting his umbrella in a nearby rack, Facade turned to Rose. “Here we are, my dear rose,” the shapeshifter announced. “My dream within a dream. Home.”

As rose traveled with the kind stranger back to his abode, she started to wonder more about this theater. What was it like? How big was it? How many other people were there? Facade had mentioned there were others staying there that needed a safe place to sleep, and they all sounded like they were unique in some way, making them stand out. Was it a home for misfit toys?

Her suspicions started to appear true as she spied the greeter out front, dressed and looking like he celebrated Dias De Los Muertos year round. He seemed quite friendly though, despite the terrible humor that Rose couldn't help but find enjoyable with a small laugh.

Aww...he had felt left out. Poor fella. They'd have to include him next time they had a karaoke party. She nodded and dipped in a polite curtsy as she passed by the doorman. With a lot of strange new people here, she wondered if she could take precautions.

But before he thoughts dwelled there too long, she was distracted by the interior of the theater. Wow...this certanly was an interesting establishment.. Her eyes drifted with calm curiosity as she veered slightly from the path Facade walked to inspect the walls. This is where he lived? The feeling of the atmosphere here felt strange... She couldn't place her finger on how it felt. Was it Deja Vu?

Facade was happy to have seen Voodoo. The man was usually torn between work with Rapture and the shapeshifter, both demanding jobs although with the latter he took no pay. The house was run as a non-for-profit and therefore the employees were all volunteers. Voodoo would keep watch for the night in case any more stragglers came in while the rest of the theatre got ready for sleep. The various dressing and makeup rooms had been converted into sleeping areas equipped with fluffy beds, sheets, shelves, and toiletries. Facade led Rose down the right hallway and into the actual theatre area, lined with rows of seating. A couple of individuals sat in the seats conversing, only stopping when the two passed them by in order to wave. The eccentric German waved back before proceeding to the main stage, where he led Rose to sit in the large space with him, patting the ground before leaning back on his hands and crossing one leg over the other.

“So long as we keep our voices down, I’m sure we can have a private conversation here,” he began. “Let’s start simple with some rules.” He proceeded to tell Rose about the rules which basically came down to treat everyone kindly, don’t do drugs or drink, and take advantage of the accommodations. There were private showers and a donation clothes basket. Lights out were at ten o’clock, and breakfast was served at seven in the morning. The current time was eight, plenty of opportunity to get to know each other better. “Now, Rose. As I mentioned before, we separate people by gender. It’s not in my nature to go labeling people normally, but this system seems to work best. Hold up one finger for male, two for female, and three for non-binary. We’ll go from there.”

Facade nodded. “Alright, female it is. We have both single and double rooms open. Basically, you can choose whether you want to room with someone or not. Gargoyle and Carmen each have their own rooms but are willing to share, both are lovely people. Gargoyle is the quieter of the two, and hardly speaks herself, while Carmen will chat your ear off if you’re willing to listen… sometimes even if you’re not willing,” the German laughed and let out a pleasant sigh. For all his life, he served people in extraordinary ways, once taking on the role of superhero. He had fought countless monsters, brought justice upon evil and brought good to light. It had taken him one hundred and thirty years to find a calling he really felt home at: taking care of those less fortunate. Not a bad form of retirement, especially because it seemed he would go the espionage route for quite some time. But this? With these people and these digs, he felt completely content.

“One finger for a private room, two for company,” he instructed kindly.

As Rose stared and listened to the individual at hand, she started to wonder if this was really a good form of communication.  Lifting fingers and responding based off of what prompts she was given was working so far, but she expected there to be more complex matters that this wouldn't suit.  She started to think that it wouldn't be a bad idea to trust Facade with a little more detailed information.  Hm....

Well, nothing like a little experimentation.  Learning was going to happen a lot as she adjusted to this world, and even if she had to learn the hard way, it might be a good lesson.  

First, she would answer his next question by raising one finger on one hand and two fingers on the other.  She would look between them, unable to decide before shrugging and letting both hands down.  It really didn't matter to her, and she would rather not be selfish.  Maybe there wasn't anyone who wanted to be pared with, and maybe there weren't enough rooms for everyone to have their own.  She would be adaptable to whatever was easiest for them.

But enough with the finger gestured and nodding.  She needed to test more effective means of comunication, and so she started speaking to him.  If allowed to complete her sentence, it would produce an effect that would not be seen nor heard, but would soon be felt.  The words were gibberish; but their purpose soon being made known.

//Share//'Rose'//Thoughts//'Liev'//

(From this point forward, everything written in these posts in white text is to be counted as knowledge made available to Facade via thought sharing.  The sharing is one-way, meaning that Rose cannot read Facade's thoughts.  The duration is the remainder of the thread, or until she ends the effect manually.)

There, that should do it.  Hopefully a thought sharing spell wouldn't disturb her host too much.  She expected the individual to be quite used to the abnormal given his situation, but this could be considered a severe breach of privacy if not done carefully.  However, this was indeed done carefully, with the mental link presenting itself in only one direction.  Facade could understand Rose's thoughts, but not the other way around.  As long as he didn't mind receiving information this way, it would be fine.  And if it wasn't, she could always counter the effect and end it early.  

Rose felt a little bad for not asking before doing this, but given her condition it was impossible to ask first.  She usually was in this state, having to rely on asking for forgiveness more often than permission.  She really could only be very careful in how she acted and hoped that it was fine for others, making it up to them if it wasn't.

For now, she was waiting for clear signs that what she did was okay, and she tilted her head in watching and waiting.  Surely he would be somewhat startled, but as gentle a procedure as this was, it shouldn't be too terribly jarring.  She hoped...

Understanding Rose’s lack of preference, Liev was surprised to hear the girl’s thoughts. It was certainly unexpected but not unwelcome, and this made things much easier to navigate the complex road of conversation. He understood that his thoughts would not be projected and that the method served more like a one-way mirror. Without that last tidbit of knowledge, he would have been adamantly against telepathy. He had run into his fair share of telepaths, and it all ended terribly for both parties, but mostly the other individual; Facade’s mind held one hundred and thirty years of information, most of it traumatic or otherwise marred in tragedy. His thoughts were not something to be messed with lightly, but it appeared he could make an exception for Rose. Even though the voice was silent to all but him, he found it lovely.

“Wunderbar,” he remarked happily. “Now that I can understand your thoughts, why don’t you tell me a little about yourself?”

Facade listened intently as Rose shared quite a lot of information with him. He treasured that information and understood its significance in confiding in a virtual stranger. Still, he felt close to the girl, linked by that mystical force Rapture often went on about, ‘akai ito' –– or, the red string of fate. So, Rose identified as a demon. That was certainly interesting. In his time, Liev had met and made friends and foes with many-a demonic folk, and therefore was not put off by the notion. Instead, he smiled and nodded as she ‘spoke’ and waited for her to finish before replying. “My,” he began, “your mother seems like a wonderful individual. To have such a great bond is incredible. I’m happy for you.” Genuinely happy. He too, had a loving mother, although she had passed when he was a child. Most of his life had been marred by tragedy and trauma, but no one would know by the way he carried himself; he had left self-pity and loathing behind when he came to Jump and was given a new purpose.

Sitting upright and folding his legs, the masked shapeshifter continued the conversation. “So, how long have you been in Jump, and what are your plans here?”

“Oooh, finding a lover?” Facade grinned, raising his eyebrows. That was certainly interesting. That made him wonder how old Rose was, not that love had an age limit and it could work rather differently with her demonic species. “Love! Love is a many splendid thing,” the German attested. “Love lifts us up where we belong. All you need is love.” Half-quoting one of his favorite movies, Moulin Rouge and half being rather serious about the subject, the theatre-lover used to have only negative things to say about love… in a romantic sense, that is; everyone needed love in their lives. Familial love, platonic love, love in the sense that it is a passion for something or even someone. In all his years, Liev Aleksandr Ehrlichmann had many loves across all boards, although romantic loves had been few and far between. All splendid, though, and he couldn’t help but get a little misty-eyed at the memory of certain people. Living beyond a human’s life expectancy had caused some grief to the man, but none more so than those loves he had lost before their time. Still, he had a positive outlook on the subject and became quite giddy at the mention of the subject. A bit of unsolicited but well-meaning advice came to mind. “Above all things, I believe in love. One of the best things someone told me is that, come what may, they’d love me til their dying day. Find someone who can live that truth, and you’ll have a keeper.”

Facade, perhaps, had come off as a little enthusiastic when it came to the subject of love, but he already knew that and felt very unapologetically on the matter. He did not think unkindly toward Rose for not sharing his sentiment, in fact though only that it would take time and experience to reach his level of understanding. That being said, he appreciated the girl’s comprehension in the love took many forms, clearly a bright young thing. Being a demon seemed not to mar her outlook on such matters. In his experience with demons, Facade took to the idea that they tended to be rather clever, perhaps even more clever than he in some instances. Some.

“I take a while to get used to," Liev laughed. "Lord knows I know that. Here, let's change the subject. Tell me more about your kind,” he implored. Despite his age, the man was constantly learning new things and had the kind of fervor for knowledge that most youth were ascribed to having. The latest demons he learned about had been Rapture’s spirits, and those were quite the storied histories. Now, he wanted to add more to his library of knowledge.

The enigmatic shapeshifter paid close attention to what Rose had to think, intrigued by the images traversing his brain. So there was a good deal of mystery about her. He liked that; people who were straightforward sometimes left a bit to be desired, although that personality trait had its own benefits. For him, however, Facade tended to keep things a bit closer to the chest… the stuff having to do with his past, that is, but understood Rose’s inquisitive nature. Something about him, and where he got his name? “Ah,” he began, golden gaze becoming a little more focused as he thought of what to say. “To be truthful, I’ve gone by many names. Liev, Lee, Leo, Leon being the more common ones, and on the more theatrical spectrum I’ve been Honest, Fake, and Facade. I’m a shapeshifter, you see, therefore having many aliases comes rather naturally. I stand to you this day as ‘Facade’ because it fits my peculiar talent, and I needed a change from the aforementioned ‘Honest.’ There are some who have deep ties to that alias, and there’s at least one of whom I do not go by that name out of respect.” Indeed, there were entities who remembered a certain version of him who would rather not associate with anymore. The moniker had served him well over the years, but it had been time for a change. He looked the same way he had looked for over one hundred years, keeping to the same color scheme of black, white and gold without fail. He was still the same person, only with different experiences.

“Now, I am alive in new light,” Facade smiled nostalgically. “Where this light touches, I can be found. A strange and wonderful sensation, yet it feels familiar and welcoming. That’s one of the reasons why I chose to walk the pathway that has led me here: sharing that light for others to familiarize themselves with, to accept so should they feel like it. If not, there’s no loss there. We all walk the stage of life, lit by our surroundings. At more than one point in my life, I was carrying the weight of the universe, the typical brittle perfectionist. But I was confused by my every decision. One day, I was being the hero. The next, I was playing the coward. Now I don’t see myself as either. Simply, I am Liev. Of that, I am proud to be.”