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After his "conversation" with the Dark Dragon and Mia's subsequent tongue-lashing, Autor found himself chastened and in need of a bracing cup of tea. He picks up a face mask for protection from the flu and soldiers out to see if his worries about Oswin and Rae being infected are well-founded.

Catch him out and about in the main bar.

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"Oh, no," he says, resting a palm on his forehead. "Now I'm going to be paranoid about anyone who sneezes in my direction."

Like he isn't already.

"I've been visiting a friend in the infirmary who's been out for a couple of weeks," he says. "Do you know Lucas?"

Good.

The Fool doesn't acknowledge the pleasure he gets out Autor's response.

He shakes his head, "No, I'm afraid I don't."

"Well, he's been out for a while, as I said," Autor says, shrugging. He looks the Fool over. "Now I'm wondering what you'd be like if you did get sick. I bet you'd be an awful patient."

"It depends on what I was sick with, I imagine," he says. Absently he twirls his walking stick around. "I was pretty bad when I hurt my leg."

The boy pauses, blinking. "Ah," he says, frowning. "That is... How did you hurt your leg? If you don't mind my asking."

Perhaps, for once, there's a bit of a human expression the Fool's face. It's a bright, brittle look.

"Oh. Well. People decided that since I didn't die with my entire family from the plague that took out almost everyone in the village, or even get sick, I must have be some sort of demon possessed monster. So, they drove me out of the village. Broke my leg when I was fleeing. It never healed properly."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Autor says quietly. "But you had a family? A mortal family?"

"Oh yes, and quite a big one. I was a seventh son of a seventh son. I had some aunts and uncles, cousins... my older siblings were married and had a few children of their own. All together... we didn't really have much space. And the cousins and nephews and nieces were visiting all the time... in our house us in their houses..."

The bright, brittle look didn't change from his face. It was almost eerie in how human he sounded. His eyes weren't quite as clear amber as they usually were, more murky now.

"So you were human," Autor says simply. "Born Alexander."

"Very few people are born fools," he says.

"Then how did you become one?" Autor asks, setting his teacup aside on the bar.

There's a bit of a considering look on the Fool's face, fingers tapping on his bad leg.

"I got myself into a situation where the only way to get out of it alive and whole was to take on the motley."

And that's all he'll say about that.

And Autor, having been a veteran questioner for quite some time, knows that this particular conversation is over. For now.

"And now you never get sick," he says, with a soft tch, trying to lighten the mood. "Thank you for telling me."

"I never got sick before," the Fool says with a wave of his finger.

But his humor seems to have returned. "So, what has happened to your friend? That he's gotten sick?"

Autor picks his tea up again and hides his sigh of relief in the cup. "My friend isn't sick so much as possessed by a being of phenomenal power," he says. "There were repercussions, and now he's in a comatose state, recovering physically."

A semi-somber Fool isn't the most comfortable thing. His eyes light up though at this.

"Really? That sounds horribly exciting. I'd like to meet him."

The expression on Autor's face is a cringe clearly stating something along the lines of, oh, dear.

"He might, ah... You may want to step lightly?" he stammers. "He specializes in destruction and rebirth, and probably has the power to smite us all."

Autor is trying to discourage the Fool, right?

"Even better!" He goes out into full out manic grin with his eyes glowing.

"Er," Autor says, pinching the bridge of his nose. "That's not... What I mean is... This is a terrible idea."

"Why?" Confused Fool is Confused.

"Your enthusiasm at hearing about a possibly spiteful being with phenomenal cosmic power possessing my friend is less than reassuring," Autor says, kicking himself for bringing it up. "I should have guessed that would be your reaction, but I didn't."

"You're the one who brought it up, so you must have also thought it to be interesting," he points out.

"Touché," Autor says, flashing a guilty smile. "And it is interesting--very much so. I confess that I am curious as to how a meeting between the two of you would go, now."

"Well, we can always satisfy that bit of curiosity." He sounds perfectly reasonable, as if it's the most reasonable thing in the world.

There's a reason why the Fool changes into a cat, isn't there?

"We could," Autor says, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose again. "Just be careful what you say, will you? As far as I know, you'd be the first person to meet him who didn't already know Lucas beforehand."