Once You've Won, You Have to Go On Winning [Arvalyn]

[Aurin]

The Golden Peacock Theater
1 Ash 121

The office wasn't decorated yet, but at least the housekeeping staff had cleaned it thoroughly after Celisa Kolchis quit the premises—likely to go and accrue more gambling debts. He would have preferred it were on the ground floor and near the back so he could escape through the alley way to his cottage more easily, but he supposed the view was nice. Lord Yserloo and Elric had their offices up here, as well. It made sense for the Avialae, who could just open a window and wing his way home. It made sense for Elric, as well, who often had his head in the clouds. Now it was Aurin's job to keep him grounded in reality, at least with numbers and ledgers and contracts and such things.

There was a knock on the door, and it was likely to do with a contract.

He was already up so he walked over to answer it rather than call out rudely from his desk.

"Master Val'Cithaeron," he greeted, then nodded over Arry's shoulder to his secretary, who had been instructed to send him right in and then go to lunch. Aurin had a secretary now.

He shut the door behind his young half-elven friend and loosened his cravat. He might grumble that Arry had won the war over his professional wardrobe, but he thought he looked rather good, come to it, and at least it was layered and he could always pare things down. The con artist leaned back against the door to watch Arry take in the surroundings. They were comfortable, but if he was going to take any joy in them, it would be vicariously through Arry. The young actor enjoyed fine things; Aurin was desperate for agency, to feel as though he were in control of his own life and destiny.

[Arvælyn]

Arry would have been perfectly content to wait in the anteroom a bit longer, had Aurin sought to keep him in suspense. He'd visited The Golden Peacock a number of times- increasingly so, once he learnt of Aurin's aim to usurp its figurative throne. But in all those instances, he'd never had cause to be brought to the administrative area so he was curious to pace the area and explore its nuances- the awards on the mantles and the autographed posters on the walls from salient examples of their repertory's repertoire. There was just nothing like it at the Velvet Cabaret. It all felt so... classy!

"My liege." Arvalyn bowed in response to Aurin's (presumably playful) greeting, and made his way into the office- another new space to explore! So, he didn't take a seat right away. He chose, instead, to pace and appraise as they spoke.

"You have a secretary!" He exclaimed, though his eyes had barely spent a moment resting on Aurin since he'd arrived. "That's well fancy." With the door shut behind him, he reverted quickly to Arvine's manner of speech rather than Arvalyn's.

Arry's own garb was simple by his standards. Professional rather than presentational. A sleek, fitted suit with apparent Southern influences in both the cut and the houndstooth pattern that pervaded his look of the day.

"So, then." He tore his gaze away from the wall hangings to land upon Aurin at last, "To what do I owe the honour of your summons." He sauntered his way over to a chair across from Aurin's desk and plopped himself down unceremoniously, with one leg dangling over one arm rest as he huddled his slender form in the opposing corner of the plush chair.

[Aurin]

Aurin smirked at the honorific, but just let Arry prowl around a bit to take in everything. He didn't say anything about the lack of décor within his office, but he supposed the younger man was biding his time so he could opine at length about what he should do with the place. Of course, he would have to do something with the place. It wouldn't do to have important personages here for meetings with bare walls and the like. But the ledgers were more important than the walls for the moment.

"I have a secretary," he agreed. "Strange, no?"

He eyed the new suit, wondering if he could pull off the pattern. A bit of tweed wouldn't hurt this far north. He would never get used to the climate; he only pretended to, going back and forth between his cottage and the Cabaret in just what he needed to be comfortable indoors. But he would ask about that later. For the time being, Arry had asked a question and deserved an answer.

"I didn't intend it to need an entire month to achieve, but this way, you won't likely deal with anyone claiming favoritism," he said by way of preamble, walking around his desk to place his hand on the contract, turning it around, and sliding it across for Arry to peruse. "Your contract, sir, to join the repertory ensemble."

He sat down as well once he had positioned an inkpot and quill where Arry could reach.

"Elric will want you available as soon as possible for pick-up rehearsals and such," he said. "As soon as you sign and I countersign and date it, you will begin to earn your wages. If Lunaria kicks you out immediately, you can crash at my place, or take a dorm at the theater until such time as you secure housing more to your tastes." There was still the list of places he had offered to Arry, though some of them had been let by now.

"The sooner you sign the better, though. There is a new work scheduled to open before the end of the season and he'll want you situated before he'll consider casting you in something of substance. Though, if you only do bit work at first, it might be a smoother transition into the company." He shrugged. It was mostly up to Arry now. "I wrote the contract, but you should still read it. And I can answer any questions you might have."

[Arvælyn]

"Strange, yes." Arry confirmed with an enthusiastic nod. It wasn't that Aurin wasn't industrious. He'd always had those who were keen to attend him, Arry included, but being a bar manager seemed starkly different from the situation in which he now found himself: With a fancy office and a receptionist.

His leg whipped around off of the arm rest until both his feet were on the floor and his back was arrow straight, even as he tilted forward to gape at Aurin slack-jawed.

"Really?!" He exclaimed with all the excitement of a child to whom a splendid birthday surprise had just been unveiled. He scooted his chair forward to regard the document. He didn't even read the words straight away, so much as he took it in as a symbol. He hadn't been one to deal much in paperwork throughout his life. The kind of life he'd led just didn't call for ink and paper very often or, to what extend it did, other people deal with those things on his behalf.

He took up the quill promptly,

"Should I just-...?" But Aurin spoke on, and he sat back. He couldn't imagine not signing it. He certainly wasn't in any position to bargain, and he knew it. Moreover, this was his dream! He'd been fostering it for years and these pages of parchment represented how far he'd come. His golden eyes glistened the brighter for the tears that welled up at the notion.

He made a show of skimming through the pages, though he wasn't really processing much. Just a sentence here, and an unfamiliar bit of legalese there. He was already practising his acting for the stage, as he pretended to read- Spending enough time on each page to be plausible. Once he got to the last page, he counted to thirty before dipping quill in ink and signing his name with a flourish, because of course Arvalyn had an artfully ornate signature.

"I only have one question, Mr. Kavafis..."

He pushed it across the desk and beamed,

"...am I a star yet?"

[Aurin]

Aurin just smirked and nodded, though there was a softness even to his smirk. His eyes were warm as he watched Arry pretend to read, as pleased as any parent whose gift was so well received. He knew Arry would be more circumspect if anyone else offered him papers to sign, so he didn't admonish him for his bit of playacting. But he couldn't help himself when asked the question. He said with all seriousness, "You are."

The half-elf had always sparkled in his view, and now it was only a matter of time before he had fans with more of an eye for his artistry than his arse, although that remained equally worthy of praise. The desk between them prevented him from reaching out and cupping that golden cheek, and his better judgment kept him from reaching out for other things. His desk was just the right height for use in fucking, but he thought it best to let Arry enjoy his achievement without mucking it up.

Making sure the signature was in order, he counter-signed and dated the thing.

"Now what will you do?" he asked, actually curious. There were parts of the theater Arry could see now, people he could meet, or he might want to run off and tell his minstrel the good news. The world was Arry's oyster, and Aurin was a part of that and that was enough.

[Arvælyn]

Arry grinned when Aurin answered him the way he was supposed to. He beamed as if he were a star in the sky as opposed to a star of the stage- A stage which, incidentally, he had yet to tread.

"Hm..." The grin gave way to a pensive pout. "What will I do indeed...?" He repeated, as he mulled the question in his rapidly churning mind.

"I think if me boss is obliging, I should like him to show me the mainstage." There wasn't anything playing at the moment, so it seemed a prime opportunity to explore the space and take in the energy. He liked the notion of familiarising himself with his new playing space without the other actors present. He knew how actors could be. He had no illusions that the politicking, the backstabbing and so forth were unique to the Velvet Cabaret. In fact, he imagined things could be even more cut-throat at this level. He was sure he wasn't the only one who'd earned his contract through favouritism, and those who'd come before him were certainly going to want to protect what was theirs from some upstart.

"'ave you met the other actors in the repertory company?" He wondered aloud, stroking his chin between his thumb and index finger. "Is there anyone in particular I ought to watch out for?" This was the sort of training Arry found most important when starting a new job. He knew how to act and sing already, but he didn't know how to navigate this particular set of personalities. In his opinion, that was the hardest part of any job and the most pivotal to maintaining and succeeding in ones position.

"I want all the dirt, Aurin. Don't spare me a dust mote."

[Aurin]

"Well," Aurin began as if reluctant, though he was only ordering his thoughts. While they were behind closed doors, he shared what information he had gathered about the various performers who already called the Golden Peacock home. He didn't give Arry a briefing on every single artist on the roster, but he made sure to note first those who he thought would most appreciate his skills and who he was — if Arry had any intention in sharing who he was beyond his persona — and then, after giving him the rundown on potential allies, he went into those who might be most threatened by him either because of a similar look or a similar niche for parts.

Aurin might not have been a man of the theater himself, but he was certainly becoming one. The business side of things was just another art form, and he wasn't above using his investigative skills or his magical tricks to keep him ahead of things. Yserloo and Elric were pleased with him so far and he planned to keep it that way while he worked to make himself indispensable and the real power behind the "triumvirate."

"I think that should be enough to keep you afloat in these shark-infested waters for now," he said with a toothy smile. "Any questions before I give you a tour?"

He stood up from his desk and deftly straightened his clothes. Arry's hand in his choices was clearly visible, though his style was soberer than the actor's. He did rather look the part of impresario and burgeoning artistic potentate, but they would both of them have to be careful plotting out their careers together.

There was quite a bit that Arry wouldn't have been able to see without an employee of the theater taking him in hand so the tour could take a while if they lingered.

[Arvælyn]

Arry's attention to Aurin's response was in stark contrast to the feigned attention he'd paid his contract. He was far more interested in matters social than in matters legal or economical. As a lad who'd never had a consistent source of income, he wasn't very good with his money. It was something Aurin had attempted to address, though never to any great success.

He'd anticipated there might be problems with those of a similar 'type'. He didn't exactly have a visage that exuded airs of innocence, yet he knew he could get away with male ingenue roles or play up his exotic features for vampier tracks. Either could be highlighted by strategic use of makeup and costuming, which he knew could be as useful in an audition as in a performance. Especially given his newness here, it would be important to make first impressions that expanded his prospects for roles rather than pigeon-holing himself into any one niche. The longevity of his career depended upon such strategy.

"No, no..." Arry hopped up and stretched his arms out to either side of him, "That's quite enough for a start." His grin broadened, "Let's 'ave a look 'round, then." He stepped up to Aurin when he rose from his seat, to adjust a wrinkle at his collar and flatten out the fabric.

"Better." He winked, before stepping back to give Aurin space to get around his desk.

"Lead on, my liege." He gestured to the door, and clasped his hands behind his back- straightening his posture as he transformed from Arvine to Arvalyn ere crossing the threshold out of the office and into the scrutinising view of his new coworkers.

[Aurin]

The generally-accepted wisdom was that one could make friends where one worked. Aurin supposed that might be true and, as such, had done what he could to get a friend into the theater so he would have at least one person he trusted. And that was due in large part to knowing Arry so well, and knowing that even if he couldn't give him the all-consuming romance he had hoped for, they were in this together. Arry might betray him for someone more powerful, more wealthy, but that would be quite the risk, given he wouldn't be able to trust whoever that might be. No, he tried not to think too expediently about things. He did have warm feelings for Arry, but he couldn't help but consider all worst-case scenarios. It was a curse, except when it was a blessing.

In any case, he hoped Arry did find some fellow artists and such who could be his friends. Perhaps that was a luxury he could afford if Aurin was keeping an eye out for his career from his office high up in the building.

Submitting to the casual touch wasn't so difficult when it was Arry either. When he was playing his role next door, he had prepared himself for the drunks and the lascivious folks, but that had been an act. In this office with this particular person, he didn't have to act. But his smile was brief and then he was leading the way around the desk and out his office door, back to playing impresario with a pretty boy to show the boards.

"Now that paperwork is taken care of," he said for his secretary's benefit, "I'll give you a grand tour. We can start with the stage. The changeover should be done by now so you can have it all to yourself for a few minutes." He smirked. "Everyone wants their solo moment in the limelight."

[Arvælyn]

And good riddance to paperwork, as far as Arvine was concerned! Not that it wasn't nice to see Aurin looking so cozy in his comparably lavish new environs, but there was only so much time one could comfortably spend in an office. Unless it was an office with a bar... Arry would have to suggest that, at some point, but he supposed one could always pop out to the bar in the lobby for a nip if one was totally parched.

"That would be splendid." The stage was what he was most eager to see up close. He'd seen it from various spots in the house, of course, when it was dressed, lit and trod by armies of supernumeraries, but never had he trod those boards himself.

"Of course, of course..." Arry agreed with a chuckle, "O for a muse of fire, and all that, innit?" He appended, as he hung back, hands clasped behind the straightened spine of Arvalyn, who hadn't quite found his way back into his tongue as he had into his posture.

"And pursuant to the stage..." Oh, there he was, "I should verily like to see the dressings rooms." That was part of the venue he'd never seen from any vantage, and it was a passing luxurious amenity in Arry's mind. The Velvet Cabaret had dressing rooms, after a fashion, but not like what he imagined in a grand place like this one.

"Sorry. It's your tour to lead." He remembered belatedly that his eagerness might verge on irritating and, walking behind Aurin as he was, he couldn't gauge the expression that answered his unsolicited suggestion. With that, he hushed up and strode fast on Aurin's heels as he led the way onto the stage.