Caranthir the Dark (caranthir) wrote in untold_logs, @ 2008-06-26 21:31:00 |
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Entry tags: | avarian, caranthir, iren, ithiriel, maglor, zhibal |
Who: Ithiriel, Maglor, Caranthir, Zhibal(npc), Iren, Dee(npc), and Avarian(npc).
What: Maglor and CAranthir come to a decision...and work with Zhibal on a..business proposition. Feanorian Theatre Company anybody?
Where: Their innroom, a building on the 4th circle, and then the Jun.
When: A couple of days ago >.> I'm slow.
Ithiriel: *got bitched at by Elrond this morning?*
Maglor: *sorry she got bitched at? >.o*
Caranthir: *wearing manly clothes**this rocks*
Caranthir: *doesn't miss dresses*
Maglor: *was glad to get out of dress e.e*
Caranthir: *grins* Should I buy you another dress, brother?
Feanor: *picked right up with the Nerdanel statue where he left off, with much more strength and focus, thank Mandos*
Maglor: Never again. -_-
Caranthir: What bet can we do next?
Maglor: None. I need to go sing for coins. You can think of our next bet, while I go do that. *only has 3 outfits, to his name, and one of those was toasted by a witch*
Ithiriel: *holds out the shirt she finished embroidering* At least you can wear this nice blue shirt while you sing?
Maglor: *and will NOT wear the dress again for lack of clean nice things to wear -_-*
Caranthir: *sits down, and leans forward, watching his brother carefully*
Maglor: *takes it, nods, changes into it* Thank you. Hopefully it will not be poked with greasy sausage sticks being weilded by angry little mortal children.
Ithiriel: Perhaps I could find you both jobs in the city, so that neither of you have to sing for coins.
Ithiriel: And I can wash it, if that happens. *kisses his cheek*
Maglor: I doubt they have need of either poets or bards here, so I am left with busking. Not that I mind singing endless rounds of the fuzzy wuzzy rabid foamy-mouthed warg song while their parents finish their shopping.
Ithiriel: I will be back to healing soon, as well, and I still have a stipend from my time as a Ranger.
Caranthir: There are other places to sing. Does this city have no theatres?
Maglor: Not that I have seen, and if worse comes to worse, I can go into that tavern again, and be asked for sad songs, and let the mortals cry into their mugs of ale like they seem to wish to.
Ithiriel: There are theatres.
Caranthir: You should sing happy songs. At least one. Write a happy song. I demand it!
Maglor: Is there? Where are they? *and larger question: are they in RUINS?*
Ithiriel: There are probably at least two or three that survived the wreckage or have been rebuilt, though I will have to find out for you, where they are.
Ithiriel: I never had time for it. *shakes her head*
Caranthir: There is this odd building on the second circle, painted on the outside with skillful hands. I saw men go in there and out again, often. Perhaps you could sing there?
Maglor: *sighs and looks like he might think it over*
Ithiriel: *blinks*
Caranthir: You know what it is?
Ithiriel: Was the front hung with red curtains?
Maglor: *still mulling it over, only half paying attention to what they're saying*
Caranthir: *nods his head* What about it?
Ithiriel: *eyedarts* I would rather my husband sang for coins on the street, than sang in that place.
Ithiriel: Though it is his choice. *nods her head*
Maglor: And what place is that, then?
Ithiriel: It is called the Jun.
Caranthir: Aye? *looks curious*
Ithiriel: *runs her hand up into her hair, blushing slightly* It is the city's finest Brothel.
Maglor: o.O *blinkblinks*
Maglor: ...your husband would rather sing for coins on the street as well, and thinks his wife is wise to caution him?
Ithiriel: *gives Maglor a sheepish look* You remember the place of good repute that I mentioned, that sells flesh but also has an area for theatre, and arts, dance and song?
Maglor: *nods* :/
Ithiriel: *nods her head, looks back down at her book*
Maglor: *thoughtful* Perhaps if I ask the other king's advisor, the younger one, about funding a theater...since the grumpy advisor looks like he would not be interested...
Ithiriel: ... you might ask, though most of the city's money goes to the rebuild, and the coming war - for it IS coming - and the wedding, if there ever is one.
Caranthir: *rubs the back of his neck, looking embarassed* I..nearly went in there, one time, because I was curious about the paintings >.>
Maglor: *sighs softly and nods, then...eyes Caranthir*
Ithiriel: I have been it, numerous times. *shrugs her shoulders*
Maglor: *POINTS at brother*
Maglor: *has IDEA*
Ithiriel: Going IN is not a crime. There is good conversation and I consult with the Easterling that owns it sometimes.
Maglor: No, no...I have a better idea. And Caranthir is going to help me, for he does not yet have a source of employment, either.
Maglor: And he is good with wood, and creating things from it. *smiles*
Ithiriel: *rests her book on her lap, flips a page, picks it back up*
Caranthir: ...what am I doing now? *looks at his brother like o.O* I am not going in that place.
Maglor: No, no...neither of us will go into that place, for we are going to purchase a theater, and run it.
Maglor: I will write the plays and music, and you are better with money than I, and with building things of wood.
Maglor: When the time is right and we all wish to depart, then a suitable mortal manager can be found, to take over management. *nods* And that means, that I can still have time to spend with Ithiriel too...
Maglor: ...if performances are on the week's end.
Caranthir: A theatre. You want to run a Theatre?! *looks at his brother like he's mad...then actually considers the idea*
Maglor: *nods* If I read up on more of the histories, other than our own, we might be able to do historical plays. Writing a play is not much different than a poem, and is a steady source of income, and would never become dull.
Ithiriel: *flips another page, isn't really paying attention to the book, is more listening*
Maglor: *lightly teasing tone* Unless you think you might become greedy, paying the actors and musicians and stage-hands.
Caranthir: *laughs* Okay. I will do so. But I think I will try my hand at writing a play >.>
Maglor: *blinkblinks at that, then smiles* I would like to see that play, should you write it.
Caranthir: *nods* >.> *actually..thinks he might like this idea*
Ithiriel: Gladharil might act in one or two, if you ask her.
Ithiriel: She sings, as well.
Maglor: *was just about to ask his soon-to-be-wife if she knew of any good actors*
Ithiriel: I can hunt around for a few more, as well. I have some ideas.
Maglor: ...I think that is a good idea. *steps over to where she is, leans down and places a kiss against the side of her face* If you know of any more singers, musicians, or actors...then I would welcome hearing your ideas.
Maglor: If you are not overly busy, perhaps you can act in a play with Gladharil, too. *smiiiiiiiiles*
Caranthir: What about you? *points at Ithiriel* You are good at acting.
Maglor: *nodnods like this is true*
Ithiriel: *shakes her head*
Maglor: You did so, at the gate.
Maglor: As did I.
Ithiriel: Oh nay. I do not act. I lied, out of necessity.
Caranthir: You did fantastic.
Maglor: What else is acting, other than pretending to not be what one actually is, only to be paid in coins for it?
Caranthir: Precisely.
Ithiriel: *shakes her head* You will not convince me to do this. I do not wish to parade around in front of an audience, and anyway, I'll be far too busy in the healing houses.
Maglor: *sighs out her name*
Caranthir: *mimics his brother*
Ithiriel: *shuts her book, sets it down, and smiles* I need to go and speak to Lord Elrond about something.
Maglor: *gets that kicked puppy sitting in a mud puddle look*
Maglor: *awwww's softly*
Ithiriel: *kisses Maglor on the cheek, rises, and sidles off*
Caranthir: Stop looking like that, Maglor >.<
Maglor: *awwwww's again, staring after her*
Maglor: *totally ignoring younger brother*
CAranthir: Seriously. You make me want to get a puppy and kick it >.<
Maglor: *turns and gives Caranthir the kicked puppy sitting in a mud puddle stare*
Caranthir: >.<
Caranthir: >___<
Ithiriel: *goes for 'therapy with Elrond' happyfuntime*
Maglor: *sighs and stops looking like that* We will need...a lot of coins...to even buy and repair a theater.
Maglor: *gets thinky*
Caranthir: We could borrow money from the younger Steward.
Maglor: As Ithiriel said, other things will likely need fixed and finished, before they would have the funds free to support the arts.
Maglor: ......not that it would...I would hope not...diminish their business, but...if that brothel mentioned has dancers and musicians and acting...
Maglor: *scrunches his face up while staring at brother* ...we could...perhaps...ask there, for someone who is willing to...partner with us both.
Caranthir: You want to partner with whores. *stares at his brother like he is mad* That would...taint the endevour, would it not? Or it might make it more popular 9_9
Maglor: If this place always is busy, as was mentioned, it is not all about sex, as was mentioned also. We could also...ask our father to help, in creating things for the stage, also...
Maglor: I think it best to ask, and consider, before nay-saying it entirely, Caranthir.
Maglor: Where else am I to find adequate musicians, or dancers, or actors? You will make it more difficult for me, having to audition them all without recomendation, off the streets of this city.
Caranthir: I am not saying nay! I like the idea. But working with whores is not something I am comfortable with. *sighs*
Caranthir: Perhaps I should do the negotiating, since you are likely to give in easily and make it so we have no stake or something equally bad.
Maglor: ...no, no...I have this figured out on the artistic front, but when it comes to finances...that is where I would look to you. The both of us, should negotiate, together.
Maglor: That way, we can not get into any trouble, if we are watching one another's backs.
Caranthir: *nods his head*
Maglor: Let us go do this, and look at these theaters on the way, so that we can...well, be richer than we are, now.
Caranthir: *nods his head**doesn't know why this excites him*
Maglor: *is excited at the prospects, and can buy robes that he hopefully will not trip over, but always liked robes, so will wear them anyway*
Caranthir: *wants leathers >.>*
Caranthir: *Stands* Okay. I am going to change into something nicer.
Maglor: *nods and goes to get that dusky twilight blue colored cloak he bought, before, utterly forgets to fix his hair, which is its usual mussed up mess*
Caranthir: *fixes his hair**primps even**has a nice new cloak too. Black of course**comes back!*
Caranthir: I know where it is, I will lead you.
Maglor: *nods* If you know where any of these theaters are, also, then I would wish to see what sort of disrepair they are in. So we can know prior what we are getting ourselves into.
Caranthir: *nods his head* We'll take a longer route. *leads his brother out, cloak foofing behind him*
Maglor: *follows, also with fwoofy cloak*
Caranthir: *Points out a few potential buildings as they walk*
Caranthir: That one's location is central... *stops, on the fourth circle*
Maglor: *looks at them in woe, because they seemed to need a lot of work, then stops and eyes the building in question* I think the outside of it is still nice looking...
Maglor: ...well...except for the scorch marks and the pieces of pillars that are missing... >.>;
Caranthir: This one. *looks around**points* A tavern, inns. Shops. There's a book store there. The archives are nearby. It's central between the gates to the other circles.
Maglor: *looks around also, then points back at the theater building* It appears also, that this was abandoned...and has been for a while. But does it have enough...room for the likes of us...within?
Caranthir: *nods, and grabs his brother's hand, and leads him in!*
Maglor: *is dragged in, willingly though, since wants to have a look around and eyes go o.O at the inside* ...it has...truly...been abandoned, for quite some time.
Maglor: *not that it doesn't look spacious, because it does, but...gutted is a good way to describe it?*
Caranthir: There is room. The question is, will we be able to do improve the roof, and get under the stage? For effects, and the like. We will give them a show like they will have never seen.
Caranthir: *visions of AUTOANIMATRONS!*
Maglor: *nods at that* I want several musicians, not a mere trio...and...there looks to be room for them, there... *points, then points somewhere else* ...or there...and the stage seems very big...
Caranthir: *nods his head* *points elsewhere* Could fit at least five-hundred people in here...
Maglor: *nods and looks thoughtful, then walks to the stage and climbs up, looks out* At least that many. Not six hundred, though. *goes off stage for a moment* There seems to be plenty of room off to the sides, too.
Caranthir: Standing room. *walks around, hops on to the stage* Come here! Sing a short tune, for acoustics!
Caranthir: **looks behind the stage, follows a hallway, sees dressing rooms. looks up, sees what looks like other rooms**perhaps they could stay there...*
Maglor: *comes back out, stands in the middle of the stage, ahems, and sings the 'my father burned to ashes' chorus in a normal tone to test it*
Caranthir: *snerks, comes back* There are rooms for changing, and several upstairs, where we can live. I counted five of those.
Maglor: I do not know if Ithiriel would like to give up her little home, but...that is good to mention. The acoustics seem well suited for singers, also. I could hear a slight echo off the back wall of the theater.
Maglor: *sings it much louder, then nods* This will work, nicely, if we can...afford it.
Caranthir: ...Perhaps you should remain in her apartments >.> Especially if you are wedded and making me neices and nephews. The last thing we need is your cries of passion echoing off that back wall.
Maglor: *trying not to blush, fails miserably* o.O; Let us go to this...brothel...place...and ask the owner there... *just starts walking out*
Caranthir: Perhaps you should ask them for tips! *grins**follows*
Maglor: *siiiiiiiiighs*
Maglor: *ignores, has looked at 'elvish' sex book, has general idea but...is not about to TALK about it*
Caranthir: Or are you scared?
Maglor: Go to Angband. >.<; *keeps walking down toward...wherever that brothel is*
Caranthir: *leads him into the second circle, and down towards the south side of the city*
Street Whore: *winks at Maglor as he walks by* Introduce me to your friend. *flutters her eyelashes*
Maglor: *staaaaares at her like o.O and catches up with Caranthir quickly*
Caranthir: *blinks**walks faster*
Red Curtains: *only a few now. the Jun has gobbled up most of the competition, hiring on the whores, and finding jobs for the ones that were not pretty or were sick*
Maglor: ... *is really thinking that maybe should just...let Caranthir do the talking now about the business stuff....*
Other Street Whore: *waves at Caranthir, flirts*
Caranthir: *eyes her, walks even faster*
Caranthir: *thinks the street whores are fugly
CAranthir: *points at the Jun* That building there. See the paintings?
Maglor: *is going to end up crawling onto his brother's back and clinging there if he doesn't GET THEM INSIDE THIS PLACE SOON* *just nodnods*
Maglor: They're very nice, Caranthir, fine artwork, delicate brushstrokes...canwegoin,now?
Jun: *Painted colorfully**images of orchids and flowers, and beasts of all sorts*
Caranthir: *opens the door!*
entrance hall: *Tapestries and art from East and West: Rhûn, Khand, Womaw, Gondor, Rohan. Elvish banners and easterling swords crossed with Gondorian blades over Rohirric shields.*
Hall: *There is the subtle smell of incense, and as one walks further in, the trappings of Gondor and her allies slowly fades, replaced fully by the East.*
Maglor: *enters, warily*
Maglor: *notes all the trappings*
women: *Some might be reading, others sewing, a few entertaining other patrons with dancing or simply sitting on the man's lap and sharing a drink.*
Dark haired woman: *has the center stage, dancing a rather graceful dance with a dagger in either hand*
Maglor: *yes, its...a brothel...but has the look of one who's considering it might be a dungeon if this takes too long, and what will his future wife think....* *WOE*
Dark haired woman: *scarves of red are attached to the daggers, and she's garbed similarly in a gauzy red material that is quite tight, but not see-through and seems to cover most of the necessities. Especially, her back is covered*
Dark haired woman: *Gauzy material is a dress, of course, and shows off very silky smooth legs from the knee down*
Maglor: *looks at the dark-haired woman and then looks back at Caranthir to make sure his brother hasn't run off and left him in there to fend for himself*
Caranthir: *blinks**points at the woman on the stage* That's an ELF!
Dark haired woman: *ignores.. ignores.... ignores... ignores.... does a delicate maneuver that'd slice her finger off if she missed*
Maglor: *turns and LOOKS back at her, then GAWKS like 'what is an ELF doing in a place like THIS?'* ... *POINTS*
Caranthir: *still pointing!*
Caranthir: What is an ELF doing herE?!
Maglor: I do not...KNOW. *still pointing TOO*
Avarian: *half-sings, quietly, in Quenya* A very delicate dagger dance, which will get her sliced if you do not remain quiet.
Caranthir: *staring. Not because she's pretty and the dance is..enticing**BUT BECAUSE SHE'S AN ELF IN A BROTHEL!*
Maglor: *IS STARING LIKE THAT TOO*
Maglor: *asks HER in quenya* ...what are you, whomever you are, doing in a place like THIS?
Caranthir: Aye!
Maglor: *sounds...distraught*
Avarian: *sighs, shakes her head, and continues dancing, still has another 10 minutes on stage damn it*
Maglor: *upgrades distraught to HORRIFIED* *no, that's not good enough, looks MORTIFIED*
Caranthir: *for once, looks as mortified as his brother*
Caranthir: *slack jawed*
Caranthir: *drops his fingeR*
Maglor: *is STILL pointing, says in shocked little quenya voice* Get down off there, you can dance, it is obvious...do you NEED another job?
Caranthir: We can offer you a better job.
Maglor: *NODS at that, points back at Caranthir, then points back at the dancing elf!*
Maglor: *notes this again like it bears noting* ...you...are in a BROTHEL.
Avarian: *is ignoring the pointing elves, hasn't even turned to take a look at them yet, actually*
Maglor: *in quenya* A. BROTHEL.
Caranthir: *emphasises* They have -sex- here.
Maglor: SEX.
Maglor: With frail mortal things!
Maglor: *slaps a hand over his forehead finally so he's not pointing* Where is the person who owns and manages this brothel?
Avarian: Gentlemen.... I am trying to finish my set. *quietly, patiently, still dancing while doing it...*
Maglor: BROTHEL!
Maglor: *slaps other hand over his mouth, then starts to walk aside, in search of the owner*
Caranthir: *puts a hand on his brother's shoulder, though he is SEETHING*
Maglor: *finally removes his hands from his face, can't even watch, thought it was a GOOD dance, but...BROTHEL*
Caranthir: *seething, but watching**in disdain!*
Maglor: *says in plain westron* Can anyone tell us where the owner of this...place...is? *almost said "BROTHEL" instead of 'place'*
Avarian: *finally turns, as her dance demands a maneuver where she does so, notices Caranthir ......... stares ...... mid-dagger maneuver .... and then drops the dagger point first on her foot*
Maglor: o.O
Zhibal: *rushes out of a room* *clucks her tongue*
Maglor: ...well...perhaps we should not ask to hire her for dancing, then. *makes a ouch wince*
Maglor: *points at the elf girl's FOOT*
Avarian: *gracefully picks it up, gives Zhi a look of apology, and thanks the heavens the dagger was - at her demand - less pointy than before*
Caranthir: She recognized me. *scowls* *THOUGHT she was noldor**WHICH MAKES THE BROTHEL THING WORSE!*
Maglor: ...ah...ahhh...that's terrible...
Maglor: ...terrible...and sad...and...so very wrong. *look of woe*
Caranthir: *rubs his temple*
Avarian: *wipes the dagger on her dress* *goes back to finishing the dance, stubbornly*
Zhibal: *checks her over, then tells her to go and change, walks swiftly over to the elves, and smiles* Might I help you? Or shall Ulid see you out?
Maglor: *still pointing, hasn't stopped*
Maglor: *points at her instead* Yes, are you the owner or manager?
Avarian: *gracefully makes her way off the stage and to a changing room, inwardly FUMING*
Zhibal: *smiles and takes Maglor's finger, closes it, and forces him to lower her hand, gently and elegantly* I am both. I do not get elves here. Ever. *chuckles* Meril being an exception. Worry not, she just dances.
Zhibal: I do not allow my girls to strip while dancing.
Maglor: That is likely because it is an affront to...elves, in general. *said so like he was noting it, as gently as possible, without being condescending*
Maglor: But that is neither here, nor there. We wished to...speak to you, about...a partnership in a project.
Caranthir: *blunt* An insult and...*shuts self up, clearly looks like he's calming down by counting backwards from 10*
Maglor: *continues to cover up by saying what it is* A theater project.
Zhibal: *amused*A theatre project? *puts a hand on each of their arms, and leads them towards a room nearby*
Man: *is chased past by three women and girls tickling him with feathers*
Avarian: *still inwardly fuming, treats the cut on her foot with some antiseptic salve and changes into her normal clothes ... which seem to be a loose-fitting black tunic and pants*
Zhibal: *has them sit***sits opposite of them, legs crossed*
Maglor: *nods and is ushered into the next room, sits, continuing to talk away* ...we wish to run a theater, but neither of us have the funds...to purchase or outfit the threater properly...
Maglor: ...and we need...actors, musicians, dancers... *looks uncomfortable sitting there, along with much fidgiting*
Avarian: *comes back out after a while, to spy on Caranthir and Maglor, while enjoying a drink* *is glad that no one's laughing at her at least*
Dee: *bright, blonde, 15. With perhaps the largest breasts in the place and curvy hips!**walks past, combing out her hair after seeing to a customer**is waves over by Zhi*
Maglor: *too HORRIFIED to dare laugh*
Zhibal: *to Dee* Some tea for us all, please? These gentlemen are discussing a theatre with me. *winks at her*
Dee: .......... D: *nods and walks out*
Dee: *SQUEES* EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
Caranthir: *COVERS EARS!*
Avarian: *eyedarts* *goes after Dee*
Maglor: *nearly fell over since he jump!twitched*
Maglor: *right off of what he was sitting on*
Avarian: *pokes her* Tell me what they are talking about?
Maglor: *composes self* I am a bard and poet, of no small measure, yet it seems hard to earn coins in this city, and theaters seem to not be...as in use, as they should be.
Maglor: *managed to say that without sounding like it was bragging, and wouldn't brag anyway*
Maglor: And Caranthir is very good with woodworking, and finances...
Zhibal: *laughs* Dee has been putting on plays for us since she was ten years old. *regards them both**ticks off on, long elegant, nicely manicured fingers* Actors, musicians, dancers.
Zhibal: You will also need those to manage the stage, and to direct. And people to build and maintain the sets and the rest of the building.
Zhi: And this is on top of the initial expense, to buy a theatre, let alone repair and prepare one.
Caranthir: My father, myself, and my brother can take care of much of that.
Maglor: *nods* But we know of no musicians, or actors, dancers or even painters, and we would need a third person, you, to fund it. Yes. *nods at Caranthir*
Caranthir: Skilled craftsman, all, and as Maglor said, I am good with woodworking and finances.
Maglor: *nodnods*
Zhibal: *regards them* I've heard your names before, in the stories some of my girls and boys like to read.
Maglor: *eyedarts*
Iren: *leaves her room for a bit, to see what all is going on in the main room* *waves at some of her regulars!*
Maglor: Yes, well...we hope for a second chance at things, and would like that second chance to be a great success for everyone involved.
Dee: *between hyperventilating* theatre! *eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeees as she rushes back with tea!*
Echtithen: *cheers for Iren!* IREN! Get your pretty arse on the stage and give us a dance!
Maglor: Not only for ourselves and our own well-being, but also for all those involved and... *stops and winces at the squee*
Dee: *shuts up, pours them tea, bounces in place*
breasts: *could injure someone*
Avarian: o.O
Maglor: *leans back*
Avarian: ..... They want to build a theatre?
Maglor: *and slightly aside for good measure*
Zhibal: *leans back, and sips at tea**regards them* You need finances. Which I can provide. You need staff, which I can also provide. There are many girls..unable to work.
Zhibal: Who could act, who could work behind the scenes. Who need a way to make a living. Men as well.
Iren: *waves at Echtithen* My lord Echtithen! Unfortunately, I cannot grace you with a dance this evening, but perhaps Meril?
Caranthir: *nods his head* Maglor can write many of the plays. And I've an idea for one as well.
Zhibal: What would I get out of this?
Maglor: *glances at Caranthir* A share of the profits, naturally.
Maglor: *takes the tea cup in both hands, sniffs it, deems it safe, then takes a drink*
Echtithen: She was dancing earlier, but she dropped a dagger on her foot like a clumsy monkey. *snorts*
Iren: Oh my, that is sad news. Is she alright?
Avarian: *walks back to the main room, takes her seat back*
Zhibal: *smiles softly* Ah, yes. A share. The greater share. Until my investment has paid for itself, then it will revert to a 60/40 share. You get the 60%.
Zhibal: I also suspect myself or some of my girls would like to offer up plays, as well, for consideration.
Maglor: *NOW looks at Caranthir, who is used to bartering with dwarves and such, to start negotiating*
Echtithen: *points at her* She seems to be walking around just fine?
Echtithen: Are you sure you don't want to dance for us Iren?
Maglor: *asks him Quenya* Is that fair enough, or should we ask how much of a share she wants, until this loan is paid off in full?
Iren: *pats him on the shoulder* Perhaps when I am better, mm? *glances over at Zhibal, next, notes barely contained Dee and two strange elves* *blinks*
Caranthir: 90/10 share, the 80 to you, before. 80/20 share after, the 80 to us..
the 90 to you*
Zhibal: 75/25 before, and 40/60, after.
Maglor: *questioning look, and then gives HER a questioning look*
Iren: *heads over to Avarian next, sits next to her* You hurt your foot?
Caranthir: *in Quenya, smirks* She's trying to give us a greater share before, to take a greater share after.
Caranthir: *to Zhi* 85/15 before 25/75 after.
Maglor: *responds in like kind* Balance it out, then, if we must pay her off faster, then that is what we must do, but I wish creative control over what is on that stage.
Zhi: 80/20 and 30/70.
Caranthir: Deal, contingent on two things. Creative control over what is on stage. And the elf. We want the elf.
Maglor: Just split it evenly after this debt is paid off, between what's left of the profits, in thirds...and...?!
Avarian: *shrugs her shoulder* I was rather spectacularly interrupted during my dagger act.
Maglor: *STARES at his brother*
Iren: *winces*
Zhibal: *raises an eyebrow* Meril? She brings in quite a few customers, just to watch her dance.
Avarian: Just a flesh wound. *shrugs at Iren* Of course if your regular decides to call me a clumsy monkey one more time. ...
Maglor: *is not sure what's going on or what was agreed to now, is just staring like 'you want the brothel dancing ELF?'*
Caranthir: *Quenya* We would have 35% each, and she would have 30 after. We would have 10% each before, and she would have 80, to pay her off quicker. And I will not have an elf dancing in this place.
Iren: *rolls her eyes* He merely wishes you had my curls.
Avarian: I think he rather wishes I had your curls AND your prowess in bed. *snorts*
Maglor: *nods at that but then points out in quenya* ...did anyone think to ASK her about that, before using her as part of bartering?
Dee: Not as though Iren has been working lately. *bouncey bounce bounce**listens in*
Maglor: *slightly rebuking* Caranthir!
Iren: *looks up at Dee* I have been sick. *primly*
Maglor: She is not a piece of furniture!
Avarian: And in love with a Ranger. *winks at Iren*
Maglor: Even if she does work in a place like this!
Maglor: *still speaking in quenya also, for the record*
Iren: ..... *blushes, very obviously since she's so pale* I am not. She is just a friend.
Caranthir: *to Zhi* She will help bring in people, to the theatre. If she can act, so much the better. I am not asking for her in bondage, but for her as an employee, in whatever capacity she is capable of and wishes.
Maglor: *sigh-exhales*
Avarian: She said as much yesterday, when she tried to talk me out of dancing here. *snorts*
Iren: She does not like to see deserving women working here. *eyedarts*
Avarian: And by talking me out of it, I mean that she threatened to go to Estel ... Elessar... about it.
Iren: That sounds like something she'd do.
Maglor: *is looking at Zhi like 'well?'*
Zhi: 32/68 after, and you have yourself a deal.
Caranthir: Deal.
Maglor: *nods*
Zhi: *shakes Caranthir's hand* I shall have the necessary papers drawn up, and you shall read over them so that they suit you, then we shall sign?
Maglor: That sounds well enough for me. *smiles* We have our eye on a theater, to be restored, also. *isn't sure how to go about BUYING the building, though*
Caranthir: I am not sure who we need to speak to, about that.
Time: *passes, papers are drawn up, negotiated further, accepted, and signed by all parties*
Zhibal: *already had lots of papers for similar deals, thanks to her buying up brothels left and right*
Maglor: *signed full name to them!*
Zhi: *is going for monopoly*
Caranthir: *did as well!**sits back, looks satisfied*
Caranthir: Father is going to ask us if we are daft in the head. *sounds like he looks pleased about that*
Ava: *nearly drops her teacup*
Maglor: He will, but...there are some who will argue that we are that. Already.
Maglor: With the building and the funds to fix it, we should be able to have a theater operating in a month. *eyes go round* I need to start writing.
Iren: *blinks at Avarian* .... Meril?
Zhibal: You are very good negotiators. *smiles* I shall trust your judgement, in this building. Is it the one on the fourth circle?
Caranthir: *nods his head* Aye.
Zhibal: Excellent choice, then.
Avarian: .... *shakes her head* *sets her teacup down on the table* I think you should be in a bed. *points toward the living quarters*
Maglor: *eyes go rounder* I need to sit through auditions.
Zhibal: *gives them what amounts to an iou/blankcheck/seal in order to go purchase the building**eyes gleam a bit**the color of gold >.>*
Zhibal: I considered buying it myself, but I could not get a permit for a brothel on that circle.
Zhibal: *nods her heaD* If you'd like, I can have word spread about auditions for a new theatre.
Iren: *rolls her eyes*
Caranthir: *grins a bit* *apparently they negotiated that she'd help with, er, marketing XD*
Maglor: I would like that, yes. *smiles and nods, and at least now is thinking they won't be entirely broke and he won't have to be poked with sausage sticks on the street while singing*
Caranthir: *thinks this might be fun, and better than kinslaying? Hell yes!*
Maglor: *says to Caranthir* You should tell that elven dancer that you have used her as a bartering item.
Maglor: *because? not his job!*
Caranthir: *laughs* *hands him the seal* You, get our building, then.
Maglor: *takes the seal, and nods, then looks at Zhi* Thank you, and may we all profit most highly from this. *stands and starts to leave so he doesn't have to listen to yelling*
Zhibal: *bows to them both*
Avarian: *shoos Iren off to her room*
Maglor: *smiles again! goes and gets the building stuff done! will tell Ithiriel all about it....umm...later*
Caranthir: *walks out, followed by Zhi*
Avarian: *watches Caranthir*
Caranthir: *walks over to her*
Zhibal: *joins them, smiles*
Avarian: *has decided that this is NOT Caranthir*
Avarian: *decided this for her own sanity*
Avarian: *which is questionable at best, anyway*
Zhibal: This find gentleman has gone into business with myself, to repair and operate a theatre. You will be working for he and his brother there. And myself, of course.
Caranthir: *smirks*
Avarian: *looks from Zhibal to Caranthir, and back to Zhibal* You have paperwork, stating such?
Zhibal: *nods her head*
Avarian: May I see this paperwork?
Caranthir: *in Quenya* This place is not dignified for your like.
Zhibal: *hands her a copy*
Maglor: *is loooooong gone, has run his little elven butt to where deeds and finances and such are done, and getting his hot little hands on aforementioned deed*
Maglor: *which he might ALMOST squee at, does so inwardly at least >.>*
Avarian: *ignores Caranthir* *takes the copy, looks at the signature* *runs her finger over the signature, almost lovingly* *hands it back*
Caranthir: *folds his arms impatiently*
Avarian: *Quenya* You developed patience my lord, in Thargelion, have some, now.
Zhibal: *rolls it up, holds it under her arms* Today was a good day. Now, I must go prepare the necessary coin.
Caranthir: *glowers at her*
Avarian: *nods at Zhibal*
Avarian: *looks up at him* *Quenya* I have been many things. A bargaining chip was never one of them.
Zhibal: *goes off to do her coin counting thing*
Zhibal: *amused*
Caranthir: *shortly* First time for everything.
Avarian: Tell me something only Morifinwe would know. *shortly, as well*
Caranthir: *sneers* I do not have to prove who I am to you, or anyone, little flower.
Avarian: My oath to you was broken with your death. I am not a thing to be signed over to you, nor do I belong to Zhibal.
Avarian: And I aught to stab you for my foot. *glares*
Avarian: Unless you are NOT Caranthir. In which case, I will stab you for impersonating so great an Elf.
Caranthir: *gestures lazily* Then be unemployed. I cared only enough to get you from this foul place. *snorts* I did not know any of you had survived. *as in 'you idiots that followed me'*
Caranthir: Great?
Caranthir: *laughs*
Avarian: *stands* I always thought he was. Past the faults. I was not alone.
Caranthir: We all have faults, Meril. Especially my brothers and I. I was not great, though there was a time I would have preened to hear it.
Avarian: You were great, to me. I have served under many since. None of them were you. .... You think my working here is an insult. Using me like that is a greater one.
Caranthir: *smirks* There are no more grand battles to ride off to. Perhaps some skirmishes against witches, but that time is long past. I have not used you, you have let yourself be degraded. You are not a mortal.
Avarian: You counted Mortals higher than your own once. That is not so rare a thing. *has storms brewing in her eyes, oh yes*
Caranthir: *leans in, until they are nose to nose**very dangerously* One mortal, and her people, who I saw with my own eyes do great deeds of valor.
Caranthir: These mortals have yet to prove themselves to me, though several have already been greatly kind, and extremely patient. I will give them that respect.
Avarian: *works her jaw* You cannot be here. I buried you. You cannot be here.
Caranthir: *blinks, taken aback* You buried me?
Avarian: Yes. I did.
Avarian: I would have left it to your brothers. I was not sure which had lived. And I had a place in mind.
Caranthir: Only Maglor did, in the end. *sighs* Witches attempted to revive me. I am rather glad you did not see me between then, and when I was killed and sent back to Mandos to..negotiate.
Avarian: I noticed. Maglor. Because of you two I am not likely to bring in as much money.
Caranthir: You are welcome. *grins*
Avarian: *tilts her head* You always were an ass.
Caranthir: It is better than doublespeak.
Avarian: Where am I supposed to stay while I am working in a place that does not exist? *snort*
Caranthir: That is up to you. My father and I have inn rooms, and there are rooms in the building we intend to purchase. I am sure Maglor's betrothed may be willing to put you up. If I ask nicely.
Avarian: You are giving me a headache. Maglor is betrothed? And your .... ... Feanor ... did I hear correctly?
Caranthir: You heard correctly. It is a long story. Perhaps we can bore you some time with it. *dismissively* We have..conditional forgiveness from the Valar.
Avarian: You can entertain me with it. Do not dismiss it as boring out of hand. *steps away from him, crosses her arms over her chest, sizing him up*
Caranthir: *eyetwitch and tensejaw* Witches. Fell magic.
Avarian: Ah. *peers at him searchingly* That was an insult. At least you are yourself.
Caranthir: I was not. The body they chose for me was not strong enough, and I burned it to ash. The nearest strong body was the witch herself. Feanor met a similar fate.
Caranthir: The rest of my brothers, we know nothing of, only that their witches were not strong enough.
Avarian: *carefully nods her head* *looks into his eyes* I will work for you. Because I have decided I enjoyed working for you ... mostly ... and that I may enjoy working for you again.
Avarian: And not because of some paperwork somewhere, stating that I must.
Caranthir: You enjoyed working with me? Were you sick in the head?
Avarian: *remains rather calm, and expressionless* Both my Uncle, and I, were in your service, amongst countless others, and how I survived is likely a miracle at this point.
Avarian: You knew my Uncle better. You never knew who I was. But I enjoyed working with you. You were a good leader. Despite ... circumstances.
Avarian: The Haladin did not forget you. Neither did I. Those were good acts.
Caranthir: I should never have agreed to attack Doriath. It erased what good deeds I did for the Haladin, and drowned them in blood.
Avarian: *looks away* We all regret Doriath.
Avarian: Dior was in a bad situation, no matter how you put it. No one won. ... Except my Uncle, I suppose. ... Eventually. *looks like she's debating that, and then finally stops and just shrugs*
Caranthir: *shakes his head* Those damned things were cursed, and are forever out of reach. *spits**on the nice carpet* Good riddence on them.
Avarian: Agreed.
Caranthir: So you will work for me. You can take your hand off the hilt of your dagger, I was already stabbed through the heart once this week.
Avarian: .... Gut instinct. *removes her hand from her dagger hilt, still not looking at him* *is trying to piece together shreds of brain*
Avarian: Your theatre is not built yet. I have another set. My foot is recovered, and I should get ready.
Caranthir: *folds his arms and glares at her**Snaps* Nay!
Avarian: It is just dancing!
Caranthir: And you will not be dancing so provacatively whilst you are working for me!
Avarian: *blinks* That was not a provactive dance. It was a skilled, and graceful one, which became less graceful the moment I saw you. *snaps*
Avarian: If you wish to SEE provacative, I can educate you on the difference.
Caranthir: *smirks**goes for the button!* Or perhaps you are unskilled and lack grace!
Avarian: You know I do not. I need not prove anything to you. *calmly, still, though her eyes look like they could easily light him on fire* I had grace enough when my back was turned. You noticed, or we would not be speaking on it.
Caranthir: I noticed nothing. *snorts* Only a Noldor who has fallen to levels even most mortals would lift their noses to. You are better than this.
Avarian: *counts up the number of times she's had THIS conversation in the last year and a half or so*
Caranthir: If so many people tell you so, perhaps you ought you listen you bloody foolish wench!
Avarian: I admit I have never heard it from a Feanorian's lips before. It adds some flavor to the conversation.
Avarian: Shall I recount to you the last 6 thousand years and all the things I have done to fill them? How long does being the greatest at what I do best last before It wears thin?
Avarian: *shakes her head* You move on to something else to make yourself forget. Dancing is a way of forgetting.
Caranthir: *laughs* You've some pride, do you not?
Avarian: Some small shreds of pride. I am not the best dancer. You would best me with a sword. That has not always been the case. I am better than this. Better than what? How much better? Does it matter, to the dispossessed?
Caranthir: *dryly* You sound like my brother, only with more pep. Are all the surviving Noldor walking bags of depression?!
Avarian: This brings me joy. *shrugs*
Avarian: There is a thing about surviving. You can only do it so long before you forget how to live. *smirks*
Caranthir: I am sorry that you are reduced to such things to find joy. *genuinely remorseful*
Avarian: It is not your fault.
Caranthir: *dryly* And who's sword did you follow.
Avarian: That was not your fault, either. That was mine.
Caranthir: Of course. *rolls his eyes, and turns to go* would you like me to show you, where you can stay?
Avarian: But it was. No one held a knife to my throat and said "This is an oath, take it or die" *shakes her head* No one forced me into a line behind you after your father fell. *shrugs*
Avarian: You are not allowing me to finish my work. *not a question*
Caranthir: Correct.
Caranthir: *to everything she just said*
Avarian: *throws her hands up* Show me to this place, then.
Zhibal: *walks past, smiles knowingly* You are dismissed. Avarian. I can have your things sent to whereever you are staying.
Caranthir: *glances at the Madam*
Avarian: *INNER FUME HAPPENING RIGHT NOW*
Caranthir: *laughs*
Avarian: ... My name is Meril ><
Caranthir: So which is it? Flower, or unwilling? You are being very unwilling, right now.
Avarian: *eyedarts* I took that name after you died. I was unwilling to do again, the things that had gotten me there. Meril is a name given to me by mortals.
Avarian: And by those things, I mean... generally, taking oaths, pursuing those damned gems, and killing innocents.
Caranthir: *rolls his eyes* And what were you before.
Avarian: ... None of your business.
Caranthir: It damn well is my business, if you fought among my soldiers!
Avarian: You did not remember me then. I had no face to you. You will not know it now. *spits that out*
Avarian: That girl is gone.
Caranthir: Coward. *walks away*
Avarian: *does not follow* *sits* *wishes he'd STAYED DEAD*