Ari ♫ ♪ ♬ (gracenotes) wrote in emillion, @ 2013-11-20 00:39:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | !complete, !log, arielle chiaro, pyr min |
Who: Ari & Pyr
What: A chance encounter
Where: Theatre District
When: Wednesday
Rating: PG-ish
Status: Complete!
Ari was not a fan of the cold, dreary afternoons common in late Scorpio. She had spent some time recently rummaging through her closet to unearth fur-lined boots, gloves, and cloak, and had taken to wearing them everywhere when she had to venture outside, which considering she was working again was more or less every day. The wind was blowing in from the water today, which only added to the misery. One of these years, she promised herself, she would actually prepare in time to fly out for a few Ordalian auditions in the fall and spend Faram’s Mass singing the ubiquitous Deliverer in an amphitheater under palm trees. One of these years. But not, unfortunately, this one. At least the steaming cup of coffee around which she had wrapped her gloved hands helped her mood, as did the appearance of her name on several of the brightly colored promotional posters that were beginning to appear around the district. It was early days yet, but she supposed the sponsors expected the gala to sell out. She stopped to admire one -- hanging next to another poster, much more somber, advertising en attendant Godot, which had not quite finished its run. She had to shake her head. Trust Miles’ name to pop up twice in one block. She’d have to tell him when she saw him in a few hours; he’d be equal parts amused and smug. Pyr didn't recognise any of the names on the posters plastered all over the district—except for one. If not for that name, he wouldn't have spared the posters a second thought. He had never been a fan of the theatre; he liked stories about heroes and adventure, but seeing a play involved sitting still for far too long, and he found it hard to focus on the actors instead of the urge to fidget and move around. It was only recently that he'd begun to take an interest; privately, he thought if he could find a context where he could stare at Ari for two or three hours without seeming weird, he could well endure the plight of sitting still. Unfortunately for him, it was not to be. No matter how longingly he looked at the ticket boxes, the price wouldn't go down, and he could not afford a ticket as it was. He had no income but what his parents sent him and Sky for their livelihood, and within that budget there was no room for splurging on a visit to the theatre. He supposed Peony could have afforded it, but he did not want to ask her; they were not yet at a stage where he might feel comfortable asking her for favors, and if he asked then questions might follow, and he had no desire to explain to his formerly-estranged older sister that he had a crush on a bard who was a decade older than him. It didn’t help his mood that he’d been feeling under the weather all day. He suspected he might be coming down with a cold, but doubted such suspicions would be enough to get him off training for the rest of the day. He tore his eyes away from the poster and sighed. He turned just as she did; as their eyes met and she recognized him, she grinned. “Well!” she said. “Here’s someone I didn’t expect to see here out and about today! Hello there. You sound as though the weight of the world is on your shoulders.” She almost asked, which are you, but she thought she had a handle on it now, behaviorally if not by appearance. It would be a bit of a game for her to see if she could work it out. Pyr couldn't help the grin that spread across his face. He still couldn't afford a ticket to see Ari's play, but she was here now; that was enough to make his day take a turn for the better. "Hi, Ari!" He didn't say I didn't expect to see you either; he always looked for her in the crowd when he was in the Theatre District. "It's nothing," he said. She must have seen him staring at the poster; he had to come up with an explanation that wasn't I'm suddenly interested in theatre and I think you're the reason for it. He grabbed onto the first story that came to mind. "My sister really likes the theatre. I wanted to get her tickets for Faram's Mass, but... well. I thought they'd be cheaper." He shrugged and prayed she'd think the blush he could feel rising on his cheeks had been brought on by the cold. The squire then, not the thief; her experiences with Sky had led her to believe he was very set on appearing tough. And the squire’s obvious adoration was fairly cute, for all that he probably thought he was being very discreet about it. “One-night performances have a tendency to drive up prices, especially when there’s more than just entertainment on sale,” she said, sparing the poster another glance. Between dinner, drinks, and the star-studded cast, she was not surprised to hear that the tickets were outside the realm of possibility for someone without a significant income. She sipped at her coffee then said, “I’m afraid there are too many of us involved for anyone to count on comps, but there are usually raffles and contests for tickets closer to the date. Or you could do what you do so well and impersonate your Bards’ Guild brother and I could probably get you a spot as an usher. But of course,” this with a very amused look, “that does leave your sister just where she started -- without a ticket. Perhaps it would be best to wait for the raffles?” Pyr resisted the urge to bury his face in his hands. She knew. And she was going to troll him for it. Sometimes, he forgot she was the sort of person who would come up with a nickname like Melvin. "I guess I'll wait, then." He desperately wanted to ask about that usher job, but that would be the same as admitting he'd made up the whole story. Perhaps she knew, but he wasn't about to acknowledge he knew that she knew. "So um," he latched onto the first topic that came to mind, "are you in the district for rehearsal?" “I live here, actually,” she said. She gestured vaguely in the direction of Harp Street and added, “Just up that way. I do have rehearsal later, but I had a few errands to run first. And you? Are they sending you running between halls, or are you spending a rare afternoon off window shopping for tickets?” “The first. I had to take a package to Fafnir, but I ran there so I have some free time now.” Pyr shrugged. After a pause, he couldn’t help smiling as he said, “Sky and I are never going back to Mariela’s, you know.” “Oh?” She gave him a curious look. “And why not, may I ask? Such an unfortunate location to choose to avoid, in my opinion.” The thought of a pastry from Mariela’s to add to her coffee this evening had her considering a detour after rehearsal. And speaking of rehearsal, she drew her cloak closer around her and commented, “It’s getting rather cold standing still here. Since you’re free, would you like to walk me to the guildhall?” “Of course!” Pyr replied at once, beaming. He realised a beat too late he was being too obvious—but if he were honest with himself, he was sure Ari had to have noticed by now. The thought made him blush, and so he latched onto the subject of Mariela’s like a lifeline. “Well, first off, Baker’s Dozen is better. And that’s where we got caught that day.” He pulled a face. “And I’m still sentenced to the training from hell for that.” As they walked, he tried to speak away from her; if he was really catching a cold, the last thing he wanted was to pass it on to Ari. Her voice was her job, and he didn’t want to cause her any trouble. “Oh, I see, so you blame the bakery, do you?” she asked, amused despite herself as they began to walk. “Well, I can’t say I haven’t done my share of misplacing blame, so if you don’t miss Mariela’s pie, Baker’s Dozen is quite good. How long do they intend to punish you, do you know?” “Forever,” was the immediate answer. “Maybe until I make class. I don’t know. Councilor Cassul said until I deem it appropriate.” He shrugged. “I guess it’s not so bad after a while. I’m getting used to the rhythm. But I don’t want to think about how bad this would be if, uh,” he hesitated a moment, and gave Ari a sideways glance; she wouldn’t tell, would she? “if they knew how many times Sky and I actually switched.” Ari shook her head, but she was smiling. “I’d like to say Aspel’s at least moderately reasonable, but, well, I’m going to say instead that you probably got the better end of the deal regardless. Your brother has been lucky too, all things considered, but altogether best not to spread stories of your previous switches around too much.” If anyone other than herself and Aud knew just how much Thieves’ Guild business this squire had been party to, it likely wouldn’t end very well for him or his brother. “I know,” Pyr said quietly. He was aware he knew more than he should. Nobody outside of Sky’s guild seemed to know or even suspect there was more to the Bards’ Guild than met the eye. Picking pockets was one thing, but there had to be other stuff. Worse stuff. The blonde woman he’d met in the docks and the man whose house they’d sneaked into had both been guildmembers—and they seemed like seriously bad news. It made him a little anxious sometimes, thinking that Sky was surrounded by crazy people. “I’m not going to say anything. About anything. Ever. Sky trusts me. So I’ll keep the secret.” “Good,” Ari said. It might not reflect too well on her either, if someone realized she’d sent a member of the most law-abiding guild to picking pockets. “And on a more cheerful,” and safer, “topic, here we are.” The guildhall was a bit ostentatious but otherwise innocuous -- and the front portion of the building, where the rehearsal rooms were housed, mostly was innocuous, as long as one wasn’t surprised by any number of locked doors in strange places. “Thank you for the escort, kind sir,” she added, her eyes dancing with merriment as she dropped a little curtsy right at the door. “You do me great honor. Do stay warm, hmm? I’ll let you know once I hear about the raffles -- hopefully, your entire family can make the gala.” She knew. There was no doubt about it. “Maybe even my parents will come from Ordalia if I get really lucky in the raffles,” he said, laughing in spite of himself—at least by joking he could try to hide how embarrassed he was. And he had to be crazy, to even think of saying what he was about to say, but he resolved to blame it on the headache that had been dogging him all day. “It was my pleasure to escort you here, my fair lady.” He bowed at the waist, in an imitation of what he thought noblemen acted like, and waited until Ari had gone inside the guildhall. Once she disappeared behind the big guildhall doors, Pyr turned around and broke into a run. The cold breeze cut into his skin as he dashed down the main thoroughfare, and a couple of passers-by yelled at him to watch where he was going, and his head still hurt, but none of that mattered to him then. He arrived at Ringwyrm Hall half an hour later, flat out of breath but with a huge grin on his face. |