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

[Aurin]

Aurin laughed.

"Of course, and the dressing rooms. The tour is for you, so I don't mind you directing us where your interests lie." As they walked, he pointed out things as he saw them, things he had learned since starting to work in the rather palatial building. This wasn't the grandest place he had ever been, but it was strange to be working here in a leadership position. Perhaps someday, he would feel a sense of ownership. At the moment, though, it still felt like the endgame of a con; the payoff for taking Torin's lead and running with it was Arry got today and all the days and nights afterward to be adored on the stage as he wanted.

He swung through the green room, made a few introductions, though it was mostly empty at this hour. Then to the dressing rooms.

"I haven't quite figured out the star system yet," he admitted while they were alone and poking through the private rooms and the larger ones for corps members. "It isn't quite like the Cabaret where Lunaria rewards whoever pulls in the most money. There's a strange system of status here. Noble or affluent patrons will often patronize a particular artist, paying their salary and giving them gifts. I suppose it could become a courtesan-type relationship, though I think that's rarer here. But I can appreciate that setup... their donation to the arts goes directly to the support of an artist, eh?

"Suppose we'll have to find you some old dowager who thinks your singing divine and your pairing with your minstrel adorable." He chuckled. It might not have all made sense, but he was figuring it out on the fly. He was still looking out for Arry, even if he was trying to do so on the sly so as not to show blatant favoritism or make him uncomfortable.

[Arvælyn]

"Ah, fair enough..." Arry blushed slightly. Perhaps he was being overly deferential. He'd trended in that direction since he'd started dating Finn exclusively. There was a big part of him that was still afraid Aurin would be put off at any moment and withdraw all of the support he currently enjoyed. It had helped when Aurin let him into his Symphony to get a sense of his feelings from within, but even with that in mind Arry was all too well aware that feelings could change. For some people, quite suddenly. Even though Aurin had gone out of his way to make it clear that he was committed to Arry's wellbeing, the half-elf was still prone to worry and thus prone to doting over his benefactor.

He offered a sheepish wave to the few occupants of the green room as they passed through en route to the dressing rooms. He might have asked to linger there, but he would spend some time in the space when it was properly empty. There was time enough, he imagined, to learn these environs after Aurin's crash course of the layout.

"Interesting... I think we had such arrangements in Antiris, but... Not for people like me or... At least not for people like Arvine. Arvalyn, on the other hand..." Well this was, in point of fact, exactly why Arvalyn was a thing to begin with. He also hadn't been a performer in Antiris, or at least not the sort of performer he'd become in Kalzasi...

"Ooh, perhaps we could find someone keen to patronise the both of us... Finn is better connected than I, what with being semi-sponsored by the Shinsei and all." Perhaps that was Arry's avenue into such an opportunity.

[Aurin]

"Don't worry, you'll have plenty of time to make friends in the green room," he promised as they moved on. Aurin was always listening, even when it seemed as though he wasn't. Arry knew that by now. He showed him a bit while listening and thinking, pausing for a while in one of the larger dressing rooms so he could have his moment.

But he was thinking about Antiris, and he was wondering whether Arry would be a better source of information from the palace than Ashoka if his beau was indeed connected to their divine Shinsei. This bore thinking upon.

"Would you like to go back at some point?" he asked slowly, following up with a quicker, "To Antiris. Now that you have accomplished much of what you set out to do, is there any desire to see it on your own terms, your own haunts, all that? Mists, we have friendly or cordial relationships with most cities in Karnor, even Zaichaer. We might eventually broker a deal for you to tread some boards back home if you wanted to conquer it as Arvalyn."

He paused, shrugged, not sure how Arry would react to all that.

"I mean, if you ever wanted to, you know I'd go with you. Either as Aurin or as Darus of Haqs." He smirked and as his expression changed, his face changed into the one he had used for Darus in Kalzasi. It was an upgrade from the Darus Arry had originally met, who hadn't used that trick in that manner on that day. But his face faded immediately back to itself. Nobody else was around to see, but 'Darus' had been instrumental in securing the shenanigans that led to Aurin replacing Celisa Kolkis as managing director.

[Arvælyn]

"Friends?" Arry blinked at Aurin, bemusedly. "Oh!" He realised that Aurin must have thought his little extra moment of lagging in the green room had been out of a desire to meet the occupants, when it had actually been more about the space itself. At present, Arry's mindset about his new colleagues was suspicious. He would play diplomatic defence, until he'd felt them out a bit more. He knew all too well how cliques could form in artistic communities and how interlopers could easily be regarded as very real threats to status. He hoped to prove thus threatening, though furtively enough to avoid the ire of his coworkers. He would keep his head low backstage and reserve his lustre for the boards.

"Antiris?" Arry wrinkled his nose. "Oh, certainly not. That place bears all the charm of a graveyard for me... And I can't imagine returning there without all the accompanying baggage appearing as soon as I crossed the city gates, and dragging me back down to the wretched creature I was..." His eyes had found their way to the floor. It was fitting, as they'd rarely risen from the ground when he'd lived there. That was where he'd learned to tarnish his glister and avoid attention... a skill he'd soon employ here.

His eyes lifted in time to catch sight of Aurin's momentary transition to Darus. He stared blankly for a moment, unblinking even as Aurin reclaimed his own face. After a pregnant pause he returned to blinking normally, as he mused:

"That would be a passing useful talent for an actor." He turned from Aurin, and pulled out a chair in front of the broad vanity mirror that filled nearly an entire wall of the dressing room. He took a seat there, and regarded his own face- inspecting it, as if for the first time just because it was the first time in this particular mirror in this particular dressing room.

"I always imagine sparkling wine and flowers in dressings rooms like these... Rather than beer and fishnets."

[Aurin]

"If I've ever skill enough to share it," he assured him, "I will offer it to you." His own threshold sickness had been severe, due in part two receiving both at once, magic used to both draw out the suffering to make him more likely to survive, and depress the reactions enough so that he could be on top of his game for the highly dangerous misadventures that followed. But Arry had been through one already, so knew what he was getting himself into. Aurin didn't know if it was true, but it seemed to him that if one was tough enough to survive an initiation, one would be tough enough to withstand another. It occurred to him that he might want Arry's trick at some point, or the one that allowed for quick movement. It was something to think upon.

He watched Arry sit in front of the mirror, then carefully stepped out from behind him so he would not show up in the picture the younger man was building in his mind's eye for himself and his future. Aurin would be largely invisible in that life, and that was fine. It was safer, anyway.

"I'll be certain there's sparkling wine and flowers waiting for you," he said quietly. If the minstrel didn't provide, Aurin would, albeit signed by some secret admirer or another. Part of the need for invisibility would be so that Arry didn't draw undue ire for his relationship with the impresario of the Golden Peacock.

"Have you given any thought to that house I mentioned?" he asked. A part of him was tempted to purchase it through Portions for Foxes, or figure out some way to make it feasible for Arry one way or another, but he wanted the man to have agency in his own life. Aurin just wanted to be a part of it somehow, and there were some things he felt more confident in than others.

[Arvælyn]

"That would be surpassingly kind- even for one who has showered me in his beneficence for my entire adult life." Arry acknowledged, seeming earnestly taken aback. Magic was not something casually wielded nor dealt out where he'd grown up. Kalzasi was quite cavalier about its predilection for the enchanted arts, but his experience in Antiris (limited though it was to the low city) had not been a welcoming one.

He was perfectly willing to suffer in the name of his art. Though the notion of another bout with the inaugural ails of a new Rune was a daunting one, it was a burden he would happily bear if it might supplement the skills he already had at his disposal. He was only starting to artfully employ Mesmer, and Masquerade would be sure to elevate his performances to entirely new heights. He lost himself in the fantasy as he sat at the mirror. It felt somehow easier to lose oneself to fantasy when gazing into ones own eyes. He looked through himself more than he looked at himself, he thought, as he pondered the potential futures Aurin had just birthed in his imagination.

Aurin's query drew Arry's golden eyes away from their reflected matches in the mirror. It took a moment of seeking Aurin out and eventually an over the shoulder glance, as the vulpine human had stepped out of frame.

"I have... And I should like very much to have a house of my own..." He was particularly drawn to the notion of one that had ties to wealth and society that might lead people to believe he had such connections himself beyond his dwelling place. "If you think it's feasible with my present income... er incomes." Arry was terrible with money, as his flagrant disinterest in the fine print of his contract may have implied, but Aurin knew this well enough even before that example came to light.

[Aurin]

"I think we could swing it on your new salary," he allowed. "And I would rather, I think, it be your home so you aren't beholden to your minstrel in case things go south." He raised his hands in appeasement. "I hope they don't. I hope you are soon happily married and an artistic power couple, but let me be the realist... or the pessimist... and help make sure you're all right if the worst comes to pass. But if you split the cost between you, there will be much more spending money for you. So that's something for you to think on and for you two to discuss."

It wasn't his business, really, except that Arry's happiness was his business.

"As for my trick... if you want it, it's yours. You'd make art of it." He offered a tight smile along with his sincere admiration. "Perhaps during Frost, when there's a lull in your schedule. It can be grueling, but the reactions are psychological. Your imagination basically spins out illusions that you can't control. Extra limbs, translucent skin. It wears off, but yeah, can be sort of traumatic. Might want to send your minstrel off to visit family or something and I'll sit with you through it, until it wears off. And yours might be easier than mine. Who knows? I survived. I'm sure you will too.

"Perhaps it's the Gods warning us to remember what's real and true under the glamours," he mused, which was funny because Aurin wasn't often the philosophical type. Or perhaps he just wanted Arry to remember how he felt even though it was hidden under humor and hard armor.

[Arvælyn]

"Gods alive, we've discussed nothing of the kind." Arry flushed. In truth, he was a bit offended by Aurin's unsolicited opinion on where his relationship stood, whether pessimistic, realistic or otherwise. But he was also very aware of the complexities that existed between the fox-like Aurin and the puppy-like Finn. He knew that Aurin wasn't as prone to envy as he, or so he portrayed himself, but if the impresario of the Golden Peacock felt even an inkling toward Finn of what Arry occasioned to feel toward Torin? He could certainly understand the urge to insert himself so...

"I shall take that under advisement." He conceded, managing not to sound miffed in the least through a very real smile that glowed in his golden eyes.

"Oh, truly?" The smile waxed evermore earnest, as Aurin dangled a fresh carrot that might further enliven his meteoric rise to prominence. "I mean... People pay good money for mushrooms and that which do the same." He jested with a chuckle, "If I get a night or two of hallucinations and come out of it with newfound powers, I'll consider that quite the bargain, I will." He shook his head,

"Don't you worry- I'm not making light of it. I know it's serious and treacherous and all that, I'm just taking the piss and that." He sighed, contentedly and crossed his arms over his chest.

"What a year this has been..." He pondered aloud, "This time last year I was so frustrated with my lot at the ole Velvet Cabaret, and look at where I am today- where we are today! All because of you, no less. Guess I hitched myself to the right wagon, all things considered."

[Aurin]

Aurin recalled speaking to Arry about the property before, and bringing up the budget either as a solo or a duet endeavor between his lover and him, or even Aurin himself subsidizing his rent so he could live in the lifestyle to which he wanted to become accustomed. But when Arry laid down a boundary, he gave him a curious look and then nodded. It was enough.

"I know you remember your own temporary derangements with less than fond memories," he acknowledged. It was just going to be another responsibility he undertook: to prepare himself as well as Arry for the transmission of the Rune of Masquerade. It seemed the right sort of balance as he was going to have to do the same to offer the Rune of Semblance to Torin. While Arry had eschewed his bed, he was still counted among the people Aurin wanted to support. Both young men would have a magical gift from him that would help with their various vocations. That settled well within him.

"I'm glad to have you in my life as well," he said quietly, and left it at that.

"Now... the stage or...?" He would rather escape the dressing room after saying something so honest, and showing Arry the facilities was the reason they were here in the first place. Getting Arry's contract signed was the highlight of his career as managing director so far, though he knew there would be other days, mostly marked out by milestone steps in Arry's artistic journey.

Aurin was glad he hadn't died on the streets of Cathena City before seeing this day.

[Arvælyn]

"Aye..." Arry acknowledged with a heavy sigh, as Aurin fair forced his nose into that particularly unsavoury memory- so wrapped up, as it was, in complications surrounding family and mortality. His strange, estranged mother popping in out of nowhere to seemingly usher his father off this mortal coil and delivering a gift that had felt at the time like a curse. Mesmer was tied so deeply with emotion and all the complexities implicit in that concept, and so the sickness that afflicted him at the Rune-gifting had rent the very depths of his heart. His feelings had been much stronger in the aftermath... or at least he'd grown more attuned to them. He'd since learned that there were very dark corners lurking within him, and as his control over his Rune grew so did his awareness of those inky depths lurking beneath the sunkissed, golden surface.

He shivered a bit, shaking off the grim memories and conjuring a smile on the outside in the hopes that his insides would catch up in due course.

"Yes, yes." He said promptly, "The stage would be just the thing." He found it meet that even a tour of a theatre should have an element of theatricality to it, and truly the stage was the culmination of this little vignette. It was, after all, the heart, soul and focal point of a theatre. From the dressing rooms to the lobby bar- Everything else was merely a means of supporting the work that happened in the auditorium.

He gestured for Aurin to lead the way, falling easily into step with the human as he clasped his hands behind his back. He hummed a little melody to himself, as if the climax of the tour called for underscoring that the surrounding world had failed to provide.