Room 206, Saturday Evening

[dark_slippy_thing]

Valentine, for he was somewhat certain by this point that his name was indeed 'Valentine,' was sitting on what he was also somewhat certain was the edge of his own bed, looking at the papers littered upon his floor.

Everyone's faces were wrong. Detention had been very wrong. And he didn't have the slightest idea where he was or if perhaps it was his own face that was quite off, after all.

Valentine, if that was his real name, was quite certain that he had gone absolutely barking mad.

(For Naminé.)

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[palestshadow.livejournal.com]

The day hadn't helped her erstwhile memory come crawling back. She'd flipped through her sketchbook and seen any number of people, all hauntingly familiar but just out of reach. She had then wandered around looking for them - the blue-haired boy, the red-haired girl, the two blonde boys holding hands - but couldn't find them.

She had to return to Valentine's room. To see if it had been her detention and not his. And because she still had his key.

She knocked.

[dark_slippy_thing]

"It's unlocked," he said, looking around the room, obviously somewhat distracted.

Of course it was unlocked. He didn't have his key.

[palestshadow.livejournal.com]

She stepped inside, nervously. "Valentine?" She stood in the doorway, hesitant. "Is it, in fact, Valentine? Or am I Valentine and you did lines in my place?"

[dark_slippy_thing]

"There weren't lines," Valentine said, sounding somewhat put off by the whole situation, now. "And I don't think anyone at detention was in their own right mind, either. So... I'm still not entirely certain who happens to be who at the moment."

...

By way of conversation, he figured he would add an afterthought.

"But it would seem that everyone here has a face more like yours and less like mine."

[palestshadow.livejournal.com]

"I noticed that as well," she said carefully. "Perhaps you're not in your own world, then. If everyone where you're from has a face like yours."

She bit her lip. "I haven't found out anything myself. Who I am or where I should be. But this is yours." She held out the key.

[dark_slippy_thing]

"Didn't I say to keep it if you couldn't find where your own room was?"

He didn't reach for the key just yet. He was still busy questioning his own sanity, here.

"Have you got a place to spend the night? This bed is all yours if you need one. I don't imagine I'll be doing much sleeping at this rate."

[palestshadow.livejournal.com]

"I still don't wish to impose," she said, holding the key out. "I don't think I sleep well, either. I can find somewhere else, it's no tr--"

She stopped short, staring at a picture taped to his wall.

"Did you draw that?" she asked weakly.

[dark_slippy_thing]

"Draw... what?" He followed her line of vision to the wall, where there was a drawing of a rather charming looking juggler, indeed.

"I don't... think I did? I don't know that I can actually draw," he mused.

But honestly, what a devilishly handsome man that drawing depicted.

[palestshadow.livejournal.com]

"I don't think you did, either," she said, feeling oddly like laughing. "I think I did. That's a near match for my style."

She opened her sketchpad idly, looking for a jagged tear from a missing page that might match the edge of this drawing.

[dark_slippy_thing]

"You can draw?" This, he had to see.

He got off of his bed and walked across the room to peer into her sketchbook as she flipped through it.

"You can draw."

[palestshadow.livejournal.com]

She flushed, oddly please by his praised. "It isn't much," she demurred. "But I'm almost certain these pieces are mine. They feel like mine, and I can't imagine having a sketchpad filled with someone else's drawings."

She found the edge she was looking for and held it up against the border of the drawing, still against the wall. "See? A perfect match."

She didn't notice the small piece of blue and white paper that fluttered loose from the pages to land on his bed.

[dark_slippy_thing]

Memory or no, Valentine was still terribly attention deficit, and, while he didn't see the mask flutter out of the book as he compared tears in pages, he did happen to notice it laying on the bedsheets when his attention span waned a little.

...

"There appears to be a face on my bed," he noted. "If it is my bed."

[palestshadow.livejournal.com]

She lifted it, considering. "Why would there be a mask in my sketchpad?" she asked. "It isn't my face."

[dark_slippy_thing]

Valentine was curious, himself.

"Put it on, perhaps?"

Not because he thought her to be freakish.

Because he wanted to see if it seemed to be her at all.

[palestshadow.livejournal.com]

She considered for a moment. "It's odd for you, seeing me like this, isn't it?"

If they were friends - and that seemed to be her drawing on his wall - or perhaps more than that - considering the state they had awakened in - then maybe this was for him. So that he could see her face in a way that made sense.

She shrugged and put the mask on her face.

[dark_slippy_thing]

"I'm afraid I haven't the slightest clue how to comprehend a face without a -- mask-- oh."

Oh. She was attractive, once her face pulled itself together into something that he could make sense of.

Which made him very thankful all of a sudden that he hadn't woken up next to a very nasty looking person at all this morning.

... Whether he had been drunk or not, actually.

[palestshadow.livejournal.com]

She blinked. "Are you all right?"

Maybe the mask was on crooked. He seemed to be staring.

"I can take it off, if it's wrong," she offered. She frowned. "And I still don't seem to have a name."

[dark_slippy_thing]

"Oh, nonono, it looks fine." Great. Fine. Fantastic. Very attractive. Same thing. "And perhaps we can think up something to call you until you remember your name...? That way, at least you'll have some sort of... I don't think 'identity' is the proper word, here."

We can call you 'luuuuvely lady.' For whatever reason, we think that it suits you.

[palestshadow.livejournal.com]

"Right, then." He was acting odd, suddenly. If she didn't know better, she'd swear he was flirting. "We know that I'm an artist, and I seem to favor the color white."

She eyed his drawing again. "Are you really a juggler, then?"

[dark_slippy_thing]

He looked up at the drawing on the wall.

Hm.

"That would explain why there are balls in my pocket not dirty, and my impeccable ability to catch," he mused. "Here, we'll see. I'll give it a shot, and one way or another, you'll get a show, won't you?"

That's right, 'Valentine,' hit yourself in the head with glowy orange balls to amuse the luuuuvely lady.

He shrugged, pulled a trio of balls from his pocket...

And started to juggle.

"I can juggle!"

This was an amazing revelation!

[palestshadow.livejournal.com]

"You can," she said, taking a seat on the bed and watching, eyes bright. "I'm very impressed, actually. Shall we call one another Juggler and Artist? That seems a little cold. And you already have a name. Convenient things, names."

[dark_slippy_thing]

"We could share the name we found on the floor until we're certain," Valentine-who-was-willing-to-hacksaw-his-name offered, catching the balls and pocketing them with what he could only assume was a habitual bow. "Valentine one and Valentine two. Or Valen and Tine. Or Val and Entine. Or something."

He was being generous, here. He'd even let her have two syllables of the three-syllable name if she asked nicely.

[palestshadow.livejournal.com]

"I think it's rather a name that should be kept in one piece," she said solemnly. "Valentine. It should be said with a flourish, I think. Not a name to be chopped up."

She flipped to the front of her sketchpad. No chance she had left her name there?

[dark_slippy_thing]

Hm. A flourish.

He rather liked the idea of that. It seemed somewhat fitting that someone who was so roguishly handsome should speak his name with style and dignity. Perhaps a touch of... romance.

"Looking for yours in there, then?" Yes, he was looking over her shoulder again.

[palestshadow.livejournal.com]

"It seems particularly elusive," she sighed, leaning a bit so he could see more easily. "I thought perhaps I'd written my name here. Perhaps artists only sign works when they --"

Give them away?

She looked up to the drawing on his wall, hopeful.