Big Show, Little Stage

The TarRaCe, noon.

There might be a fresh blanket of snow on the TarRaCe today, but the sun is doing its best to unravel the threads, the icicles on the building outside slowly dripping onto all of the customers that step in and out.

However, there's one man inside the TarRaCe that's staying dry. He sits at a piano in the middle of the stage, wearing a bright blue tunic, leather pants, and a dark cloak connected by a chain on one shoulder and worn entirely on the other shoulder. As his fingers dance on the keys in an intricate and dizzying display of arpeggios, the underside of the cloak flashes out from time to time to reveal it's the same bright blue as the tunic.

But then the arpeggios connect together in a chorus of chords that ring out, concluding only when the man lifts his fingers and raises himself from his seat. He bows deeply with one arm. "Thank you, Alexandria!" Zero announces to the crowd in a manner that suggests he's expecting an uproar of applause. (He's certainly dressed like he's trying to command it, at least.)

Auranar claps appreciatively at the fine music, even if she'd been the only one - which she is not - she would have given just as an enthusiastic applause. It's clear that she's been appreciating the music, and there's a half-empty cup of tea beside her that proves she's been here for at least a little while. With Verna at her side of course. She smiles at the woman as the bard takes his well-deserved praise from the audience. "He really is quite good! I hope he comes over so that I can tell him!"

Having arrived during the performance, Ygraine quietly secured a seat for herself... and taking up the one next to it with her snow-dampened cloak and gloves. But thereafter, she settled into place, elbows resting on the table and chin propped in her hands, a happy smile on her lips. Hearing Auranar's comment from close by, she looks over and grins. "He certainly was!", she happily calls over, flashing a grin at the stranger before joining in with the applause.

There was one reason why there was a bronze golem shaped person in the Tarrace that day, wearing a broad cloak at one of the many tables in the building, glancing between the kitchen, the bathhouse, and the tables between.

Oh, the music ended. They stop looking around and instead look at the stage, giving a metallic sounding clang of applause.

A ruddy sight was weaving across the crowd, balancing a tray above his head. And by ruddy, it was the white-bloused autumn scaled sith-makar, smoothly moving to place down the next order of drinks by one of the tables.

"Brass," Aelwyn greets with his hand sliding into his black loincloth-slash-waiter's apron, pulling out his notebook. Eyeing at Schara, he tilts his head at him. "What would be the drink tonight?" Seeing Ygraine walk on by, he bows his head. "Muse, just in time for the performance." He flicks his short tail behind him.

Verna observed the performance from her Auranar-adjacent seat. The audible portion, that is, as her eyes did tend to wander from the stage. Still, she nods with the other woman's assessment. "Indeed. It was quite pleasant. Considering his prior words, I suspect that he might well seek to hear your praises more directly, as well as those of others." She takes a sip from her own tea, which is perhaps her third to Auranar's half.

The mul'niessa man smirks in a rather self-accomplished manner as he basks in the praise of the audience, and he lifts his hand into the air again as though to salute them. "I love each and every one of you, and I shall be performing again tomorrow evening! I hope to see each and every one of you there, my darlings!"

Zero takes the corner of his cape and pulls it around himself, creating a rather dramatic flourish as he walks off stage and... into the lunch-time audience. Indeed, he catches Verna and Auranar, and he wanders over to them. "Ladies," he purrs. "I am so glad to see you here again. Auranar, was it? I hope my performance lived up to your expectation." Smug peacock that he is, he smiles like it's an inside joke and of course she enjoyed it.

The wild elf claps, nodding to the person at her side enthusiastically, and then Auranar beams with pleasure as the bard approaches their table. She smiles up at him and waves politely but enthusiastically to a seat before her. "Oh! Hello again! Yes! I'm Auranar." She seems pleased as possible that he remembers her name. "Your performance was amazing! I really enjoyed it; won't you please join me and Verna?" She's talking a little fast in the hopes that she'll reach the point where he joins them all the sooner.

"He's a mul'niessa, but he's performing at this place, so they must trust him enough to play here, and he doesn't look that dangerous." The artificer muses to themself. "Oh, and Verna is there, too."

Whatever further musings they were going to have were cut short when they are greeted by Aelwyn. "Oh! Hello Aelwyn, I was just looking for you, but I will have one of the three copper ales since I am here." They respond, looking at the sith-makar. "I need to see what it looks like when you are in pain?" They ask, the bronze mask inscrutable and tone neutral.

Verna gestures politely to a seat across the table with one gloved hand after offering, "Greetings," to Zero. "Please, if you would. I found the performance pleasant, yes. I had only your prior impressions upon which to form any expectations, and this most recent did meet them." After stating this, her eyes wander about their vicinity, whereby she notices Ygraine's smile and nod, to which Verna dips her head in recognition and acknowledgement.

Shortly thereafter, she believes she hears her name mentioned and turns further and more abruptly. When Schara is noted as the source, her posture loses the initial start and she nods to the artificer as well.

Aelwyn stares at the notepad in his hand, then at the tray in his other hand. The notepad is promptly pushed into the large pockets of his black apron-really-loincloth. "A three copper ale, as usual..." The Dragoon mumbles by himself, then pauses. Slowly, he turns his orange slit pupils at the muttering brass golem. "... this one usually gets more familiar with someone before they start asking such questions." He responds with bright, toothy grin. And takes a step back. "This one will return after getting more orders."

Walking around, he approaches Ygraine and the others' table. "Muse, strangers, Pianist. Would they be in the art of savoring the taste of another drink?" He asks, pulling his notepad out again. After a moment, he puts it back aside. A quick eye might notice it's filled with very large and blocky letters, but not many words.

The bard tsks a little, but in an obviously playful manner as Aelwyn dubs him as 'Pianist'. "Please, sir, call me Zero. Pianist is one of my talents, and to reduce the full package down but to one bowtie is a bit of a shame... when I am such a /gift/." The last word is delivered half-sarcastically and half-genuinely, a paradox wreathed in peacock feathers. "Just some water will do. I don't drink anything harder until after the sun goes down as a matter of strict policy--with the exception that the face offering me the drink is particularly pleasing."

He turns back to Auranar and Verna with a wide and welcoming grin. "Of course I will join you," he says. "The best part of being an artist is speaking with the people who adore you, you know? Makes all of those lonely hours of practice plucking at keys and warming the voice in the dead of dark worth it." Zero takes a seat. Even this is done with a small flourish of the arm. The performance does not stop on the stage.

Auranar has the grace to look embarrassed, but still pleased. He'd joined them! Really joined them. She blinks at the sith-makar server once and then realizes that he's asking for drink orders. "More tea please? Thank you." She nods politely to him and then turns her attention on Zero. "So tell me, besides the piano and singing, what else can you do?"

It's clear to anyone and everyone that he's quite right about her being an adoring fan. If she could see herself... but thankfully she can't.

Ygraine starts slightly, the Muse having been more than a little caught up in eavesdropping on the conversation involving the performer. Grinning at Aelwyn once more, she nods cheerily. "Hello again," she says warmly. "Is there any mulled wine available? I am rather in the mood for something seasonal, if so. If there is none ready... then cider, please."

Verna can see Auranar quite well from her vantage point, in fact. She addresses the sith server first, however, "More tea for myself, as well, please." She offers coin for the order before turning back to the conversation at the table. Predominantly as a more passive participant for the moment, but attentive all the same as she further sips what remains of her current cup.

Schara nods back to Verna, before returning her attention to Aelwyn. The helmet tilts to one side. "But we are familiar, are we not? Not familiar enough to ask that? Well, I understand, that is an odd thing to ask someone." They sigh. "I'll wait for my drink, then."

All that was left to do then was wait and watch the other people that were around. "She seems concerned about people recognizing her in public. I shouldn't mention her like that again." They continue musing to themself. "Perhaps it would be easier if I was sitting at their table to avoid such situations."

Aelwyn grabs the coin off Verna and easily flicks it between his fingers and knuckles, "Naturally, tea and water," His head tilts over towards Ygraine. "And the house's _special_ mulled wine. Hot for the cold weather." A toothy grin.

The pianist identified as Zero gets a longer look from the short sith-makar, and he exposes his sharp teeth. "Now, if this one were to call Pianist a Gift, someone might have the right impression to tear away the ribbons." He gives his teeth a playful snap. "The orders will be here shortly." He gives a flourishing bow of his own, before turning on his step.

"Perhaps Brass should sit instead of speaking of sitting," The ruddy sith-makar whispers to the brassy golem, rumbling in amusement as he heads off towards the kitchen.

"Oh, if only I were so lucky," Zero mock-opines at Aelwyn's ribbon-tearing comment. "Alas, my worst weakness is that I am so /picky/. A deficiency that occurs when you have been spoilt for choice."

He turns his attention to Auranar again. "A multitude of things, dear Auranar," Zero replies with a grin. "In addition to my musical talents, I was trained in acrobatics as a child and maintain that training to this day. It's come in handy for the occasion that I have to deal with unsavory sorts who assume that the musician with a pretty face and fine clothing will cave to a brutish demand for all their coin."

"Ooooh!" Auranar says with interest, her eyes lighting with a light that Verna might find familiar. A light that suggests that an idea has burned to life inside her. "You've dealt with a lot of ruffians then? I assume that means that you've fought them off and won?" She leans forward with enthusiasm that the subject perhaps does not entirely deserve.

"Thank you. I am very much looking forward to it," Ygraine happily assured Aelwyn... before resuming her fascinated observation of the neighboring conversation. She could not help but wonder if she ever struck people as a vain popinjay, with her overtly swashbuckling style, fancy leathers, and perhaps even her brooch displaying affiliation to Ceinara. Still, if 'Zero' was either inspired in his own right, or prompted it in others, then he was surely beloved of Ygraine's beloved Lady. Certainly something for the Muse to muse upon...

"Intriguing," is Verna's response to Zero's recounted resume. She is interested, as well, though not with the same well-lit gaze. "Do you often find yourself the target of brutish sorts? That is a situation I expect that most would seek to avoid."

"I guess that I should, and I should keep my thoughts not spoken out loud. Why would you tear your ribbons though? Accessories are expensive." Schara sighs, stretching their arms out in front of them before they stand up, and walk over to the populated table. "Hello Verna, Yggraine. And nice to meet the other two of you." They nod to Auranar and Zerthos. "Your fingering was very impressive, especially if it isn't something you do all the time."

The orders for the tea, wine, and ale alike come after few minutes. A fancy pot of tea and mulled wine, the cups freshly polished, are balanced over one hand on a tray, while the bottle of wine is hung on the sith-makar's apron, barely clinging on. Placing out the tray down first, he serves Schara their drink first, "Brass' ale," He begins, then carefully sets out the cups. Except he then moves on to dangerously hoist the pot up in the air and precariously pour the tea into the cups, just barely keeping the hot liquid in check.

"The tea for the fairer party," He grins, before he sets out the mulled wine in front of Ygraine. "The mulled wine for the Muse," With its suspiciously spice scent. And finally, he places the bottle of water and pours Zero a glass. "And the water for the Pianist." He taps his tail, before he bows his head."Enjoy the company." The Dragoon waiter then flips up the tray and turns on his heels, heading off to serve the other tables.

"Do I deal with ruffians often? Mmm, here and there," Zero replies, still maintaining that self-satisfied smirk. "The reason I am here in Alexandria is because I managed to escape from ruffians to begin with. You need not to be a big and hulking brute to win a fight, you know. A call upon the Hymn and a pond of grease below the feet of my assailants has been enough for me to slip away into the yonder night."

Schara's question is posed, and Zero doesn't miss a beat. He turns to the cloaked figure and says, "Oh darling, I don't know what gave you the impression I don't use my fingers often. I do, and everyone who's witnessed it has /always/ come away satisfied." He takes the glass of water that Aelwyn's offered and takes a sip with curled lips.

Auranar looks between Schara and Zerthos and blinks several times before an amused smile slides over her lips. She says nothing, but she seems to find the conversation suddenly very amusing. The wild elf does cough once. "Those are interesting tactics Zero... if I might also call you Zero?" She looks at him hopefully. "A quick-witted spell can be timely indeed, but surely there are times when you find that you don't have the time for such magics. What then?"

Happily cradling both hands around her mulled wine, Ygraine beams gratefully at the reptilian waiter. "Thank you so much. It smells wonderful," she assures him, before finding herself double-taking at the words reaching her from the bard's conversation. Did he *really* just say that? Blinking, she looks over to him - and to Auranar and Verna, to check how *they* are responding to what she thinks she heard. Yup. Apparently her ears were not letting her down, given what she can see...

Verna thanks the server for the tea and offers "Greetings" in return to Schara. She has a strong hypothesis concerning Auranar's interest in the particular topic of ruffians, and her expression sours. She may be aware of this as she keeps her visage directed to Schara and others, rather than Auranar. Admittedly, her fiancee may currently be too fascinated by the five-foot mul'niessan pianist to notice, but all the same... As for Zero's comment, and any possible connotation of such, it is likely that Verna is unphased by it. That or unaware.

Odds favor a belated realization as her sip suddenly turns into a sputtering cough.

"You just said that you don't practice the piano all of the time, though." Schara answers, with no sign or reaction or realization of what they might have just said. "That is good though, but I am surprised, still. It is hard to appeal to everyone's taste with music, so being able to satisfy everyone is a difficult feat."

"Careful Verna, you should not drink your tea so quickly, especially when it was just served to you. Are you alright?" They ask of the mourner.

Zero doesn't appear to have any panic about Verna's sudden sputtering condition as he puts his glass back down. "You may have my water if it washes the choking frog out, darling," he offers to Verna with a slight smirk.

Then he looks back to Auranar. "Distractions," he says. "If you throw your voice, or you can mimic an animal noise--it catches your assailants off-guard. There are people who dislike such misdirection, but they are the people who tend to turn up in ditches and create the pretty sort of corpses that they write these awful mourning songs for. You seem like you're a bit of a keen student--perhaps I could offer you lessons? I can't say I've ever been called on to /teach/, but there are first times for everything... and some of them can even be pleasurable."

Zero delivers one more retort to Schara with a smirk. "It's easy to please everyone when you pick the 'everyone' correctly. I can please a crowd here but I won't please a crowd at the Ox-Strength. They want to kill their musicians to hear their pretty songs of anguish there. /Not/ my idea of an adoring audience."

Auranar smiles at Zero, clearly looking interested in his offer. "I would in fact be interested in lessons, I've a mind to expand my repertoire of magic and skills. If you've the time that is of course..." She starts to say something else and glances outside as if reminded of something. "Oh my! Speaking of lessons I've got to go!"

She leans over and gives Verna a kiss on the cheek. "I've got to run if I'm going to catch up and get those snacks while I'm at it! You enjoy the rest of this tea Verna, and try not to worry while I'm gone? I'll meet you at home after a while." With that she's off in a dash.

Verna holds up a hand to assure Schara even as she recovers her breath. While this takes a moment, she can yet hear perfectly well. Particular mention of lessons and training. She turns back towards the conversation... just in time for Auranar to recall her other commitments, impart a kiss and promptly dart off. Verna watches her depart and clears her throat before turning back to Zero for the first time in a several moments. "It appears that you may have acquired an interested student..." she notes rather matter-of-factly.

Ygraine is having a little difficulty of her own with trying not to choke... but after a few moments she manages to clear her throat, taking a careful sip of her mulled wine as a means of trying to both stifle and conceal the urge to giggle. "To what do you attribute your talent?", she asks, speaking up for the first time - perhaps in part to try to give Verna a few more breaths of recovery, or maybe as an attempt to offer a little moral support in dealing with the bard.

"Well, if she would like to learn, she left before she could give an answer." Schara notes as they pull a straw out from one of pouches on their armor, and flip a switch on the side of their helmet, which opens up a small hole to sip on their ale through. "Was that your girlfriend Verna? I do not wish to assume, but she did just kiss you, after all."

"I appear to have acquired an interested student, yes," Zero responds with a smirk to Verna. "I assure you, despite my welcoming and perhaps bold demeanor, I have no intention of adding 'homewrecker' to my list of talents." 'Perhaps bold' is a bit soft, but it's the phrase he's landed on.

He turns at last to Ygraine and smiles widely. "Aha, she speaks at last! My talent is my own, cultivated from a century of hard work and rigorously structured days. However, I have offered praises with it to a variety of people who I have met and am inspired by them to reach for even greater heights. What is the point of being a songbird if the songbird does not also seek to soar?"

"Your intent, or lack thereof, is noted," Verna nods to Zero and her tone is polite enough in its neutrality. She shifts to answer Schara's inquiry, where said neutral is overriden somewhat. "Auranar and I are to wed," the words curling her lips upwards, if briefly. "Circumstances have, regretably, delayed the event for the present."

"Oh, *congratulations!" Verna's final words temporarily override all other concerns for Ygraine, who beams delightedly at the affianced woman, before raising her mulled wine in a toast. "To your long-lasting happiness. May you continue to warm each other's hearts."

Schara receives a grateful look - she would not have dared to be so blunt in her enquiry - before she returns her gaze to Zero. "I found it interesting to listen, without feeling a need to interject. But a century of rigorously structured days...? That is impressive indeed. Rather giving the lie to the image most might have of a bard's capacity for disciplined commitment!"

"Why would I assume you wished to wreck a home? Destroying a building for no reason seems more than a bit pointless, and there aren't many reasons to do so, either, unless you needed to rebuild in the space. I suppose that may make more sense in a city with limited space, but you are awfully thin to be swinging a sledgehammer around."

The artificer turns instead to tilt their head to Verna, before they nod. "Well, I have never heard of a woman having a wife, but, I don't see anything wrong with it, either. Congratulations, Verna." They offer, raising their own glass, realizing a moment too late that it shoved the straw back further into the helmet, causing them to sputter and cough.

Zero looks at Schara for a long moment and then clicks his tongue. "Dear me, you are /sheltered/. I don't even know if I should be the one to burst the bubble. It's such a rare and beautiful thing in these days and hours to be an innocent. You should keep that as much as you can. A marvel, really."

He turns his attention back to Verna and lifts his glass in sort of a salute. "Really, more people ought to have wives," he says. "Men, women, and everyone in between and outside. I am told they are quite wonderful if you pick the right one, and I can tell you at least, Verna, that your wife-to-be has an excellent taste in musicians, so surely you have chosen well. To your happiness." He drinks and sets the glass down.

"And it is true, there are those who believe that the bard's lot is that of laziness, sleeping with anyone that comes their way, and occasionally delivering a pleasing performance. No, I am of higher quality stock than /that/," Zero says, puffing out his chest. "I am an artist, first and foremost. The lovers come as they will--in more than one way--but they are second to my dedication in my craft."

"My thanks," Verna offers to all in response to congratulatory mentions. "I agree with you that all should find their counterpart," she admits to Zero," whomever that may be and however such comes to pass." She pauses before adding, "As you note, there are preconceived notions held by many concerning given occupations, bloodlines, nationality, and more. Such are rarely the whole truth and yet they exist. Most likely due to the actions of exceptions. That does not imply that one should not be vigilant."

Ygraine finds herself momentarily distracted by wondering who - or what - could possibly serve as a fitting lifelong counterpart to Zero... but she quickly enough manages to regather her thoughts. Shooting Schara a concerned look, she cocks her head as she tries to read quite how distressed the artificial creature might actually be. "Are you in need of assistance?", she asks the bronze figure - genuinely unsure if she should be worried or not, given her ignorance of quite what count as normal for the being.

The artificer tilts their head. "Yes, I am sheltered, I can afford to rent a room to keep a roof over my head, but I don't know what that has to do with anything." The artificer huffs once they manage to stop coughing and remove the straw from their helmet. "As well as being innocent, but I do not know about that, either."

"I am alright, but thank you for your concern, Ygraine. Just a bit of a shock is all, I only added this straw port recently, I'm not entirely used to it."

"I guess I know what you mean somewhat, Verna." They nod to the mourner. "My mother said that you have to be careful around mul'niessa, because they'll box you up and ship you off to charn to either enslave you or eat you, but you both don't seem too bad."

There's... a certain something in Zero's countenance when Schara makes their remark about mul'niessa eating people. For the briefest moment, the jovial expression remains on Zero's face, but there's a flicker of something darker, like pain, in his red-pink eyes. Only for a moment.

"Then let it be a lesson for you that not all are to be judged by appearances nor what you have been told by others," Zero says. He rises from his seat and gives another flourished bow with a wide, wide smile. "Now, I hate to cut this short, my darlings, but I should be on my way as well. I have a rather important appointment to make in the Nobility District."

The bard soaks in the farewells that are offered to him, and he departs into the cold as he is--fashionable, if mildly underdressed.

Verna's lips purse at Schara's comment, though she nods to Zero's and bids farewell. After his departure, she offers to Schara, "I am not aware of any mul'niessan penchant for consuming others. As to the Charneth, in general, slaves are, unfortunately, a common commodity and key factor of the nation's economy. I expect it is not a practice that will be quick to change."

She then rises from her seat. "I should take my leave as well. Auranar is expecting me."

Verna has left.

Ygraine offers each of Zero and Verna a deep inclination of her head in turn... raising her wine in salute to them both. "I wish you a happy day, in your differing appointments!"

To Schara, she offers a rather rueful expression. "I am Eldanar. My people have all too often embodied the worst of human potential, for all that we are more often heard talking about the *best*. Charn is, I fear, a demonstration that even Celestial ancestry does not provide a certain shield against malign influence and intent. But we tend to be spared the swift judgements to which some others are subjected, because we can more readily blend with the local populace."

The artificer looks at Zerthos for a short moment, before nodding as they leave, followed by the mourner. "Well, it meant something to the bard." Schara notes as they leave, followed by a long sigh behind the helmet. "Ah, Eldanar, so, either Charn or the Myrrish kingdoms, and given what you said, probably Charn. I guess, you're right, I didn't even consider that given you were not a mul'niessa."

The artificer looks to her drink that was mostly emptied, sips up the last of it, and nods. "Well, you don't seem like a bad person either. I'm sorry if I came off as rude, I'm not used to a lot of things, and I've got a habit of thinking out loud. I probably bothered Verna and Zero a fair bit, and I owe them an apology at some point."

They turn to the door, and back to Ygraine. "I should be going, I came here to see Aelwyn, but they seem to busy to talk, and I need to find a sith-makari to talk to about pain responses." They answer with a slight curtsy with the hem of their cloak. "Maybe Skielstregar would be able to help?"

Chuckling, Ygraine shakes her head. "In the case of my family... Myrrish. Though it was Myrrish armies and Myrrish leaders who conquered Alexandria, within living memory... and got chased out, too. I fear that the very existence of Charn does provide many of my kin with all too easy an excuse: 'we're not like them, so we must be Good!' seems to be a common fallacy. But... I apologise. I am prattling at you, and you wish to be away. Good luck in your research, though I would suggest that it might be worth explaining something of *why* you want to know. Telling people that you want to see how they look when they are hurt might be taken as a threat - to them, or to others like them."

"Oh, I was wrong there too, that's not good. Well, I shouldn't be making assumptions either, but I probably failed on that various times today." Schara notes with another sigh. "You are probably right, I'm not trying to threaten anyone, not in the slightest, and I don't want to actually hurt anyone. I just need to know what it looks like, so I can tell if a sith-makari is hurt, so I can know if any artificial limbs are causing pain, if discomfort comes from another source, or if they are hiding how much they hurt." They explain. "Regardless, yes, I should get going, but it was good to meet you, if anyone is prattling it is likely me, and I should get going."

With that they turn away, and step out into the snow covered streets.

-End