may catch-all!

[feintofhart]

Who: Claude & Various
Where: Around Aldrip!
What: Claude and his encounters around town... again!!
Warnings: None anticipated! If you'd like to hop in on a log, however, please feel free to PM/DM me or hit me up on plurk (here!), and I'd be happy to whip up a starter for you, or you can just wildcard me in here! I've got my plotting comment here for the month if you want to take a peek -- Claude will the usual man about town, working at his apothecary, training, hunting, etc. etc., but with the twist that his sentencing honesty curse is taking hold.

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[feintofhart]

The Duke of Gloucester?! [ Claude sputters, practically choking on his own words. ] What are the chances?

[ He hasn't thought about Lorenz -- no, that's a lie. He thinks about his friends back home all the time. But he certainly hasn't thought about Gloucester as a territory in quite some time, and the fact that some foreign land would share its name is one of the strangest coincidences he's ever encountered.

Once he recovers from his surprise, he reaches one hand out to shake Richard's, still looking faintly bewildered. ]

Good to meet you, Richard. Your territory just so happens to share the name of one of my territories. Count Gloucester and I work quite closely, back home.

[ That's putting it politely. They fight like mad. ]

I'd ask if you could possibly be related to them, but your hair isn't nearly so... striking.

[traumaticus]

[An amused brow quirks up in when the realization flashes on Claude's face. Oh ho? Well, this sure did just get interesting. So, there is someone out there in the other duke's world that carries Richard's name. What are the chances, indeed?

But yes, color him interested now. Richard would like find out more about this other dukedom. The one that was his in other lifetime, in a parallel world. Does it, too, stand in north and what kind of power does it hold? Do they serve the King as he does, or maybe a Queen when you take into consideration their religion.

However, just as he parts his lips Claude makes an off-hand comment about his appearance. Perfectly normal and harmless one, really. But the sharp crux of it hits Richard hard, like an arrow point digging on his flesh. His pupils widen as he stares at the man, seemingly stumped. It all happens in a blink of an eye, as if someone flipped the light switch off and on. Because all of the sudden all colors in the room turn much brighter and distorted, the straight lines curling up into a small, dizzying spirals.

But what truly held Richard's attention was the ever so familiar white figure sitting on the counter next to Claude. Joan of Arc, the damned witch.

"Tell him why is that, Richard. Tell him why you look nothing like anyone in your family. Maybe you really are changeling from this strange world! Ah.. but then again, didn't he just say you do not look like them either!"

The witch lets out her usual mocking laughter, sneering her torments at Richard.]

I-- [Richard begins, tearing his eyes away from the nightmarish vision back to Claude.] I am like no one else. Least of all those who you know, carrying my title.

[feintofhart]

Well, no. You're not. I believe that's precisely what I was pointing out. Besides, we already know we're from very different worlds, considering our differences vis a vis religion and magic and the holiness thereof, [ Claude says, all smooth voice and chipper smile, speaking as casually as though he's having a conversation with an old and trusted friend. ] There are no more similarities than the name, though you have to admit that's a funny coincidence.

[ It sounds like for the life of him that he didn't notice anything awry at all. It's a social nicety. It's a kindness, in fact; he noticed Richard's lapse in attention easily, the way he stared unblinkingly at the spot beside him, the way he'd gone rigid and uncertain, breathless and defensive.

It's not altogether unfamiliar. Claude spends much of his time with soldiers, these days. The younger soldiers around Richard's age are by and large fine, but the older ones? It's not so unusual for them to space out like that. ]

I meant no offense, of course. I myself am nothing like any Duke of Leicester there's ever been, and I can't imagine there will ever be one like me again.