fandomtownies | The Streets of Fandom, Wednesday Afternoon

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The Streets of Fandom, Wednesday Afternoon

Valentine was juggling, as Valentines are apt to do. It was his living, after all.

Just wandering up and down the streets. Juggling. Like only a juggler can.

Hoping for someone to maybe throw some coins at him, or, at the very least, fresh vegetables.

Silly juggler.

(First thread locked to Jerries, then feel free to gawk at a juggler neither clothed, juggling, or conscious. Draw on his face in sharpie at your leisure.)

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There were two men dressed in fur outfits rowing past the juggler, singing. There seemed to be a harmonica accompanying them, although neither was playing it.

"Aaaaaaaaaalouette, gentile Alouette ..."

Valentine stared at the men in the canoe.

"This is my corner, go busk somewhere else!"

What? It was perfectly reasonable to think that anyone singing with invisible harmonica accompaniment was attempting to steal his audience.

Francois got out of the canoe and began walking around behind Valentine. Jacques continued to sing.

"Alouette, je te plumerai.
Je te plumerai le tête ..."

Valentine was getting nice and grumpy, now.

"There's such a thing as courtesy, you know. Honestly, there are other corners elsewhere. Plenty of places to sing."

"Je te plumerai la tête.
Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh ...."

This was probably a situation where peripheral vision would have served Valentine well.

As he might have seen Francois swing the club at the back of his head.

Unfortunately, unlike everyone else, Valentine did not have peripheral x-ray superhuman lazer eyes. Valentine had pinholes.

Therefore, Valentine crumpled to the ground in a convenient little heap.

Should have just let them have that corner, Valentine.

Jacques helped Francois to drag Valentine near one of the buildings, so as to be out of the way.

Easy enough to scalp, and then his pelt was loaded into their canoe and they could be on their way again.

This one had no underfur. That would probably be embarrassing, for him.

Luckily, that was not their problem.

"Aaaaaaaaaalouette, gentile Alouette ...."

Valentine might have been aware of a slight breeze, as Valentine was lacking underpants.

Except Valentine was completely unconscious, laying face-down.

When Valentine would awaken, he might have a more healthy respect for French-Canadian fur traders.

He had a very lovely naked self. And the ~~Jerries~~ French traders were already on their way.

"Alouette, je te plumerai."

Of all the things you do not typically expect to see while walking down the street - even the streets of Fandom - Naminé would have to say "your boyfriend, lying naked and asleep near some trash cans" was near the top.

Of course, her boyfriend was not quite ... normal, by other people's standards, so it was entirely possible that ...

She did not want to think about why her boyfriend might be in this condition. She would first go and see if she could wake him up.

"Valentine?" she said softly, shaking his arm. "Valentine."

"Gnnnmrrrphllphhm."

Totally coherent.

His head hurt. Ow.

Was it breezy?

Something told him he didn't want to be conscious just yet. So he mashed his face into the pavement and did his best to be not functional.

"Valentine," she said, a little more firmly. "I think you should wake up."

She looked at him again. "Is there any particular reason you're nude?"

"'M not nude, y're nude..."

Valentine was totally with it.

"Hed h'rrts..."

Don't wanna wake up. French Canadian fur traders might come back.

"Did you hit it?" she asked, tucking her legs under herself. "Were you ... napping here, and ... what are you doing here, exactly?"

Valentine curled up and put his hands to the back of his head.

"Summ'thn hit it. There were French people in a canoe and they were singing and..."

He groaned and glanced up at Naminé.

"Please tell me you didn't just ask me why I'm nude."

He was afraid to look.

French people. In a canoe. This was Fandom, though, so it was 50-50 either way.

"All right," she said cheerfully. "If I see any French people in a canoe, I shall protect you. And I'm afraid I did. You didn't take your clothes off voluntarily?"

"I don't remember taking my clothes off. Are they nearby?"

He hoped the answer was yes.

He was fairly certain he wasn't going to be so lucky.

Naminé looked around, then shook her head. "Whoever took your clothes must have departed," she said. Apparently the French canoists were perverts. And yet, it was still around 50-50, Fandom or Valentine.

She thought for a minute. "I could go to Pixie Dust, and get you some clothes. If you'll wait here."

"Clothes are good," Valentine mumbled, pulling off a mask and covering himself with it. "Perhaps you'd be so kind as to knock me out again in the meantime?"

It was worth asking.

"Don't be silly," she laughed. "If I knocked you out, you couldn't scoot back behind the trash cans any time you heard footsteps."

She gave him a very light kiss and stood up, dusting her skirt off. "I'll be back in a hurry, I promise."

Naminé hoped it didn't make her a terrible girlfriend that she was slightly amused. Possibly more than slightly.

Valentine was just very thankful that she suggested he scoot behind the trash cans at all.

If anyone needed him, that's where he would be. Yep.

She was as quick as she could be, but it probably seemed like longer to Valentine, who had to wait behind the trash cans.

Naminé returned with a few bags from Pixie Dust (http://community.livejournal.com/fandomtownies/2172759.html?thread=97374807#t97374807), holding them out as she sat down next to him again.

"I had to guess at the size," she said with a shrug. "I hope they're all right."

"Whatever it is, it's certainly better than nothing," Valentine stated, taking the bags and pulling out a pair of pants as quickly as possible to pull on. "Thank you."

And yes, he was just a little jumpy, looking around fearfully for fur traders as he dressed himself.

"It's nothing, I assure you," she said. "So you were ... accosted by French canoists, who disrobed you and hurt your head?"

Valentine nodded emphatically. Which was a mistake, as nodding emphatically with a bump on the noggin is only good for causing pain. So he nodded less emphatically and winced.

"They canoed down the street, singing about Al-Loo-Ettes, and then one came up behind me and clonked me over the head with something hard."

"I see," she said, nodding carefully. "Was this perhaps a religious ceremony? Were they upset with you for offending someone or something? Did they mistake you for someone named Al Louette?"

It was still far too close to call, really.

Valentine shrugged and attempted to look thoughtful, but the bump on his noggin made that somewhat difficult. Mostly, he just came off as somewhat grumpy.

"I don't think they mistook me for anyone. I was juggling, they came by in their canoe, singing, and I told them to find a different corner if they were going to busk."

"Busk?" she asked politely. She was trying not to lean towards Valentine being ... Valentine, but the more he explained ...

"Perform? I juggle, some people play little music boxes and have monkeys dance, that sort of thing? Street performing, if you will."

Valentine would have her know he was quite sane. This time. Mostly.

"I've never heard it called busking," Naminé said, lifting a shoulder. "Had I guessed from the sentence, I would have imagined you were removing them for jeering you in some way."

"You thought I stripped myself naked because they didn't like my juggling?"

Valentine was just kind of staring at her, now.

Well. That certainly took her a minute.

"Them. The potentially-jeering spectators. Not your clothing. I ..."

Naminé sat for a moment.

"Very well. You were accosted by perverted French canoists. So goes Fandom. Perhaps we should head back to the dorms before they return." She held her hand out to create a portal. "Shall we?"

Valentine looked at the portal.

And he looked at Naminé.

And he crossed his arms.

And then he looked at the portal again.

He'd have laughed if it wasn't for the fact that he'd been hiding behind garbage cans to hide his naked self.

"Wow."

Naminé looked at the portal, and then at Valentine. Why was this worth a stare? She'd created portals for him before. This was nothing n-

She clapped a hand over her mouth and started to laugh.

"I'm sorry," she managed. "I'm so sorry. I have no idea where my mind is, I wasn't even thinking ..."

Valentine grinned a little.

"If my head didn't hurt so bloody much right now, I'll have you know I would be laughing as well."

He was going to accept her apology this time around, because... dammit!

Naminé stepped forward, leaning up to give him a light kiss. "I shall make it up to you. That's a promise. But first, shall we get out of here before the canoists return?"

Valentine allowed himself a moment to make good on that kiss before he nodded.

"Let's do that," he agreed, deciding all at once that he did not like boaters in the least. And also that he had the best girlfriend ever.

Naminé pulled him towards the portal with a smile. "Do be thinking of ways I can make it up to you, hmmmm?"

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The Streets of Fandom, Wednesday Afternoon

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