@SaarebasYen Sid made his way among the Fables of The Woodlands with the social grace of an ox; which is to say he had shown up in a suit of mismatched colors. The top part of his outfit was a light blue while his pant legs and shoes were a laughably bright orange; the memorable look topped off by a large white trucker hat that read "Honk for Hooters" that he had picked up from lord knows where-Yen Sid having insisted the night before that Mickey let him dress himself for the annual party. After four hours of crying like a child and nine hours shape shifted in the form of a remote his young apprentice Mickey finally broke and granted his request.
Walking hunched over as he commonly did due to his back problems he talked to literally anyone that would listen-and often times kept talking long after they left. It was actually a sad sight to see for those that noticed; the haggard old man literally talking to chairs and tables half the night while a good number of guests used his odd behavior as an easy talking point. There were many laughs, but Yen Sid seemed not only unaffected but completely oblivious to the fact.
Eventually he made his way over to the table Boogie sat at while people watching; his ancient emerald green eyes twinkling in recognition at the odd man. He went to sit down beside the former monster like they were old friends and as he sat his frail hand shakily extended outwards, grasping at Boogies shoulder as he literally grunted himself into the chair with effort. Like most encounters with the old man Yen Sid spoke first. "How goes it Dr. Manson? Beautiful celebration isn't it? I swear the Queens truly outdone herself for the harvest festival this year." Who or what he was talking about was a total mystery-apparently he was having one his mental episodes, something Boogie was all to familiar with as the old mans psychiatrist.
"Oh! Before I forget!" The old wizard practically shouted at Boogie while grabbing at him. Quickly he took his old wrinkled hands off of Boogies outfit and pulled what looked like a simple small purple "crown royal" bag out from his pants pocket. Whatever paltry gift or token the crazy old man had fit inside the tiny bag probably wasn't worth anyones time.
Boogie watched as the old man reached into the tiny palm sized bag...then kept reaching, and reaching...and reaching. After a moment the old mans arm was somehow impossibly and completely engulfed within the small cloth bag, his face wearing an expression of concentration and struggle as he dug around in some unseen effort to find something; obviously magic was at work. "Now where is that...no that's not it...here?" He pulled a black cat out of the sack, the dark feline quickly hissing at him before Yen Sid shoved it back in the bag "No No...Here!" This time he triumphantly pulled out a small fancy looking box made of finely polished and darkly stained wood. He sat the gift infront of Boogie, his eyes looking at the man many people feared with both genuine appreciation and affection. "A gift for a friend, while I can still remember." He knocked the side of his head comically as his eyes began to grow hazy yet again.
Suddenly his eyes locked with Boogies in frantic panic, his face deathly serious as a terrified look came across his whole body. Just as quickly as the fearful look came it was replaced by one of pure awe, his eyes catching sight of the large elaborate fountain inside the ballroom. "My goodness. Wonderful harvest festival."
--
@YvainThe fairly large two story brick building that sat on the corner of Bullfinch and King Street was packed to full capacity; although it wasn't really a surprise that the normally popular hole in the wall bar and diner would be rather busy today, afterall it was the annual holiday known as Rememberance Day. It was the one time of year even the most hardened of Fables found it hard to not look back at their old lives with longing-more importantly it was a time to remember those who hadn't survived the relentless war march of The Advesary.
The occupants inside of the establishment affectionately called The YellowBrick Roadhouse were a farcry from anything similar to the hoity toity crowd celebrating the same holiday just a stones throw down the street at the Woodlands. Here there were no suits in site nor finely dressed women (atleast not by societies standards) but that very fact seemed to suit the crowd just fine-all of which were laughing and carrying on as an unseen jukebox blaired a rather catchy track. The floorboards that made up the ceiling on the first floor occasionally squeaked and groaned, the party having grown to fill up the second floor as well.
Mickey couldn't picture being anywhere else at the moment, afterall it was tradition for him and many others to meet at the Roadhouse each year on this specific day; he especially couldn't imagine celebrating with the more well to do (or those that wanted to act well off) Fables that no doubt were doing their best to act like they were having fun this very moment. The thought of having to return there tonight made him take a deep drink from the mug he clutched in his right hand, quickly wiping away the foam left behind off his sharp facial features. Feeling the slight blonde stubble on his chin reminded him he needed to shave.
He leaned back in his chair as his clear blue eyes scanned the room surveying what he could of the crowd while simultaneously finishing his drink; there was the woodsman arm wrestling Grendel at a table not far off, briefly he caught a few minutes of Tweedle Dee and Dum doing their best to prove who was stupidest (really, who cared who could fit the most eggs in their mouth-apparently those two stupid louts), and the tooth fairy pounding back shots (of Whiskey, Mickey thought) like nobodies buisness at the large square bar that sat in the middle of the main room that made up the Roadhouse-there was also an unseen kitchen in the back and stairs that lead to a pool hall upstairs. The room Mickey currently found himself in consisted of large round tables with cheap wooden chairs for patrons to sit at while cushioned booths ran along the majority of the walls.
It was hard to keep an eye on any one individual or pick someone out because the crowd itself seemed to shift and move as if it were alive-the vast number of clearly drunken fables apparently doing their best to see and talk to everyone they could along with buying their friends drinks. Mickey couldn't imagine just how much cash Dorothy, the cutthroat owner of the bar/diner, would make that day. The thought reminded him to say hi to the little hellion of a woman.
As he finished draining the yellowish liquid that had filled his mug he caught sight of a woman he knew better then he wished he had; her blonde hair and floppy bunny ears (Yeah, she had bunny ears) catching his blue eyes from across the room as he quickly noticed her playing some card game-or, if he knew her, more like cheating at some card game.
Cutting his way through the crowd of Fables Mickey made his way to the large chest high wooden bar that stretched out in a perfect square within the middle of the room. The bar itself was lined with stools, all of which were occupied by fables from various worlds. Two rather good looking men worked with an almost unnatural speed behind the bar countertops, their skilled hands serving up drinks to the large crowd faster then Mickey could feasibly keep up with.
Making his way up to the bar Mickey squeezed himself between the tooth fairy (who he gave a wink too, which was returned with a giggle) and the headless horseman-who once again was looking for his head. Mickey picked up a pumpkin shaped face that sat on the bar countertop and quickly plopped the half decent looking jackolantern onto the headless horsemans unglamored body. In a show of relief the horseman felt the pumpkin like head with both hands as if to verify that it was indeed there. He gave Mickey a thumbs up.
“Keep better track of that noggin, mate.” Mickey said in his peculiar twangy accent as he slapped the horseman jokingly on the back-almost knocking his fragile head off once again. Turning his attention back to the bar Mickey slid the now empty mug onto the tabletop “Hey T-Man, leme get two buddweisers. Bottleknecks.” He finished the statemet by slapping a crinkled looking ten dollar bill on the table, within moments Tinman had two ice cold budweisers uncapped and standing before him. With a nod of thanks Mickey picked up the alcoholic beverages before doing yet another amazing display of footwork to get through the mob of people that separated him and his destination.
He was just emerging from the sea of bodies, drinks in hand, when he heard the argument taking place.
“I said your a fucking cheat, you god damn rabbit. I don't give a fuck what day It is, you hear me? There's no way you drew those two cards by chance. I want my fucking money. Nobody cheats Jersey-You hear me? Nobody!” The skinny balding beanpole of a man with a bad seventies moustache spat at the blonde Bunny eared girl. Mickey had recognized the prick as soon as he heard his distinct annoying and naisly newyorker accent-he was one of those scumbags who had been welcomed into Fable town under some old “wipe the slate clean” bullshit accord-in Mickeys oppinion all the monsters of his type deserved to be wiped off the map.
He couldn't help but laugh as he thought this; for at the same time he remembered he had been coming over to say hi to a woman (bunny?) that had literally left him to starve to death a lifetime ago. Nonetheless the way the weasely looking man spoke to Lola really grated on Mickey's nerves for some reason-before he knew it he was stepping in, his mouth performing that awful habit of saying exactly what he was thinking.
“Hey there Babs. Brought ya that drink you wanted.” He set the ice cold buddweiser down, the kind of simple beer he actually enjoyed, infront of Lola's massive pile of gambling winnings. Honestly Mickey wasn't even sure what she was playing but he'd bet his money that she had in fact been cheating.
Turning to face Jersey, a man who Mickey was well aware was far deadlier then he appeared, he locked eyes with the glamoured fable. “What about you Jersey? You want a drink too mate? I brought enough for everybody.” He asked in a rather challenging way: as if on cue each of the fingertips of his free hand crackled to life; a dangerous arc of white hot lightning dancing playfully back and forth from fingertip to fingertip. His message was clear.
“No. No I'm good.” The creature known to the mundees as the Jersey Devil quipped back while simultaneously shooting Lola a look that read 'this isnt over.'
After watching the man stalk off Mickey collapsed into the now vacant seat across from Lola. Without a word he started reshuffling the cards before dealing them out; the pair beginning to play a game without word. “So...when you gonna stop trying to cheat other fables? I mean, its not like you must be hurting for the money that much.” Out of the corner of his eye Mickey kept watch on Jersey who eventually sulked off, quickly lost in the crowd. “I'm tellin ya Babs, onea these days your gonna steal food from the wrong wizard.”