Tim had no clue why he was here.
Scratch that, actually. Apparently, he was here because he’s a Drake. So, he knew the why, actually.
It’s the how and where that got a little muddled somewhere in there.
So, the how... based on visual evidence, he was going to say magic was the probable cause.
The where... the Fae Wildes? Though, how Janet and Jack Drake managed to have a standing invitation to the coronation of a fairy was not something Tim was particularly capable of answering. Maybe Tim wasn't too far off when he was five and wondering if Janet was actually part of the fae.
Hold on, would that make him, like, half fairy? Well, maybe not - iron, after all, was something he barely put any thought into touching.
Regardless, he should maybe not eat anything or give his name out. Which was an interesting idea when he was at what appeared to be a gala, of sorts. Then again, Tim wasn't particularly keen on the idea of networking with the supernatural and fairytales.
"See, I have to give him the most elaborate box," Tim could hear one of the fae telling another - the former looking, strangely, like a dock worker and the latter like a toddler ready for her first day of preschool. "That way, he knows I can set aside my Obsession when in times of need."
"But, mama's Obsession is feeding people her cooking - how does she honor King Phantom today?" The toddler asked.
"You see that really tall cake over there?" The dock worker asked, pointing over towards what Tim had assumed was the buffet tables. "No one is allowed to eat it. It's why mama is over there guarding it."
All Tim could see over there was a 1950's school lunch lady, so he was tempted to say that that was 'mama'.
"Hmm," the toddler put her hand on her chin in a classic thinking pose, "well, I don't have an Obsession yet so I'm gonna give Phantom this cool rock I found." She nodded as though saying and that's that.
Tim had to give a gift? And one related to... an obsession? He guessed, if he'd had forewarning before being dragged to this coronation, that he could've gifted a photo of Batman and Robin. That's really the only obsession that he could think of himself having...
"Well, you're an odd one out," a teasing voice stated next to Tim, making him turn away from the supposed father-daughter pair who were oo-ing and ahh-ing over... kryptonite??
Tim met breathtaking blue eyes. Unlike the fae around him, Tim could see that the man speaking to him wasn't glowing and seemed much more human. What were they called- a thrall? A human who was tricked into fae servitude or whatever? Or was that just, like, vampires that took thralls?
First things first, when he got home, he was going to dedicate a couple weeks to learning all about the supernatural. Maybe a month or two.
"Sorry?" Tim asked, pasting a polite smile on his face.
"Oh, don't be, always interesting to see a new face." The man grinned back, "and you seem a bit confused about what's going on. I could help you, answer all your questions, for a price."
Of course, even the humans in the Fae Wildes demanded equivalent exchange.
"What would be the price?" Tim asked, because it might even be something that Tim could pay. Knowledge was almost always worth the price one was willing to pay for it.
"Just one date," the man lifted a finger, his eyes staring at Tim intensely. "One date, in your realm, without any strings attached. First date etiquette, so handholding but nothing else. A kiss at the end if we both agree the date was successful." If the man didn't look so confident, so unbreakable, Tim would say the specification would indicate nervousness. So, the details were part of the deal? Did every deal in the Fae Wildes get written in their souls or something, so the specificity of the deal was important? Or was this man so used to dealing with fae that he'd been specific out of habit?
"And how many questions on what topics am I allowed for one date?"
"You may ask me questions until I am needed elsewhere, on whatever topic you should want. I am allowed to veto any questions that I believe violate someone's privacy, however."
"Deal," Tim held out his hand to shake on it. A cold power seemed to seep into Tim's hand on contact, causing him to shiver. "Whose coronation is this?"
"Oh, you know actually nothing, huh? It's Phantom's coronation."
"Oh, just some guy that beat the last king. The last king was some sort of tyrant, so this celebration is actually pretty important to everyone here." The man shrugged, as though power switching hands happened every day.
"I overheard someone talking about honoring the new king; what does that mean?" Tim was rushing through his questions, he knew, but he'd been given an uncertain timeline to obtain his answers.
"For some people, that means finding the most rare and exotic things to gift to the king. I heard that some of them are planning on challenging the king to a duel, to pay homage to how they met the king. For those without connections or strength to back them up, they instead deny their Obsession for the day to prove their loyalties." The man, meanwhile, answered the questions as though he were leisurely chatting with Tim.
"Obsession? That sounds like it's capitalized."
"Well, sure. That's 'cause it is. An Obsession is someone's entire existence, the reason they metaphorically get out of bed in the morning. It can be as simple as a drive to be remembered or the desire to protect those important to them. Every human wants to be remembered and to protect their loved ones; the beings in this realm, with such an Obsession, live, breathe, and eat doing exactly those things - y'know, metaphorically."
"Because you've brushed against the veil. Not enough to be noticeable in your day-to-day life, but enough to change the makeup of your being. I bet you even have an Obsession of your own in there, somewhere." So, it wasn't because he was a Drake. The fairy that had brought Tim to the Fae Wildes certainly made it sound like it was, though.
"How would you figure out your Obsession then?"
"Well, close your eyes," the man said, gesturing at Tim. Tim gave him his most deadpan expression. The man laughed, which sounded rather melodious actually, "no, I'm serious! I know, it's super cliche, but closing your eyes does actually help!" Tim stared at the expectant man for a long moment, before huffing a sigh and following the instruction. "Okay, now, think of what you do to relax." Tim's brow furrowed - that was it? "Sort through those things, find your favorite of them all. Is it something that you would do as soon as you wake up? While eating? Before going to sleep? Would you skip eating and sleeping for it? Have you blown off your friends so you could do more of it? Has it, in some way, made you miserable?"
"That sounds like an addiction," Tim pointed out, keeping his eyes closed.
The man laughed again, "in some ways, it kinda is! Do you feel a compulsion to do it, without any addictive substances interfering with your thoughts? Congratulations, it's either a gambling addiction or your Obsession. Now, you tell me, is it an addiction?"
"I wouldn't quite call solving mysteries an addiction, but-"
"Wow, so you're a detective? That's interesting," the man said, grinning as he leaned towards Tim.
Tim blinked a few times before shaking his head, "you said that denying one's Obsession would be enough to honor the king? How would I deny solving a mystery?"
The man paused a moment, before a mischievous spark lit in his eyes. "The king has a few mysteries a human such as yourself won't notice right away - if you can resist solving even one until tomorrow, that is enough to honor him." Something seemed to catch the man's eye, causing him to lean back away from Tim. "So, just don't look too closely at him, yeah?" With that, he gave a wave before walking off.
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