Ari ♫ ♪ ♬ (gracenotes) wrote in emillion, |
“I feel as though all the most interesting people tend to shame their mothers once in awhile -- I wouldn’t worry about it, were I you,” she counseled merrily. “You’re here -- Aud is surely glad you are -- and that is enough, isn’t it?” Visible discomfort aside. “I like dancing, and wine, and food, and music -- whether listening to it, or playing. What’s not to like?” she asked. “I have perfected the skill of avoiding inane conversation, which is really the only pitfall of such events from where I stand.” Nobles could be tedious, but they could also be deterred easily enough. “I do a few a year, between productions -- it’s a nice little influx of gil for one night’s work.” And had been almost her sole source of income at one point, early in her career. The lesser nobles were less particular about their bards (as long as someone was playing something, this was considered adequate in those circles), and she had come up from those parties to patrons like the duke slowly. The talking about his mother caused the slightest hint of discomfort to churn internally for him. While he loved his mother dearly, and often mentioned her in conversating passingly, it wasn’t often that others really engaged the topic with him. Besides, what did this chick know about his mom? “Heh.” Was all he offered, trying not to let the conversation creep into uncomfortable territories, and trying to figure out how to switch the topic before he - very possibly - became defensive over the whole thing. “Dunno about that.” Was all the dismissive commentary he’d add before beginning to nod along to her next words. “Yeah, guess you gotta point.” Was the quick comment between her - probably - rhetorical question. Another slow nod was offered as she continued to talk, boy this girl had a mouth on her. Not a bad thing, but he wasn’t sure he’d seen someone so smoothly navigate a conversation like this, with some level of actual interesting topics in quite some time. Though, that was probably to be expected. Most of his conversation was about work, or listening to Audrey prattle on inanely on whatever topic caught her interest at the time. Smooth flowing talks had never really been his strong point. “Hey, if you can get by like that, good on you.” Though, honestly, Darius couldn’t imagine working so little for the life of him. “Oh, it’s a miserable living if that’s all you do,” she assured him. “It is, however, a lucrative sideline, if you find the right patrons willing to engage your services.” She grinned and told him, unashamed, “I’ve played my share of taverns -- and street corners -- for sad little handfuls of gil. I prefer living to getting by, though, so it isn’t the right sort of life for me.” Which was not to say she didn’t still play taverns -- or even the streets -- on occasion. Now, though, she did these things because she wanted to, and not because she had to -- and in her mind’s eye, that made a world of difference. If one could live life doing only and exactly what one pleased, what greater success was there, really? “Alright. Makes sense.” Another easy bobbing of his head accompanied the words as she carried on about how to get by against how to live in her profession. Did most bards have that problem? It would explain why some came into the clinics in such poor condition. “So, that’s why you do some big shows too, yeah?” It seemed a simple conclusion. “Aren’t those hard too?” It was best to keep her talking, and if such simple questions would manage it, then all the better for him. |