[Flashback] Money Where Your Mouth Is [Arvalyn]

[Aurin]

There was a lot he wanted to say in response, but Arry used the same trick he did sometimes, just not stopping until his words dropped things off at a safer place to go from. It was certainly off balance, this and everything, but at least he had had the day to expend nervous energy on preparations.

"Oh, yeah," he said drolly. "I thought it was a two-bit comedy act at first. Was fixing to get you an audition at the Peacock tomorrow. They do comedies, too." He snickered. "And you'd better not be sick. Might be tragic to walk your way to freedom only to die of consumption, but there are already like two operas about that and tragedy is fine on stage, less so in life."

Aurin refilled Arry's bowl, then, after a momentary pause to check in with his own belly, refilled his own. He had mostly grazed that day, never wanting to eat a meal in case Arvine was about to wake up. On top of that, he had been on top of two women last night, which tuckered a man out, especially one who talked the talk but infrequently walked the walk when it came to some of the services available at the Cabaret.

"Good on you, though. The roads are long, hard, and dangerous." Leaning over, he put a hand on the ex-thief's shoulder. "Don't pop a boner or anything, but I'm glad you're here. I'm glad you made it. Now I don't have to worry that my being a bitch fucked up another person's life." He smirked. "Now you're here, being a bitch and fucking up your life will be much more convenient for me."

[Arvælyn]

"Fit me for a costume and fetch my greasy paints! My audience awaits!" Arvine said, in the most audacious, poshly affected pronunciation he could mustre at his currently depleted energy level. Thankfully Aurin was attentive to that very issue, and he soon saw his bowl freshened. His reputation for gluttony preceded him to Kalzasi, and it was already bearing fruit.

"Wow." Arry glanced up from drawing his bowl back over to his side of the table. "I wondered how long it would take you to start openly objectifying me, and we're not halfway through supper when you start bringing up erections." He sucked in his teeth and shook his head in mock disapproval, even maintaining a judgemental glare as he lifted his bowl to slurp down more broth.

"Good stew, though. Did you make this yourself or pop over to the cabaret?" He grinned at the thought of eating good sturdy meals regularly. In a place that actually served food that people paid for, no less! "And while we're on that subject, I don't suppose there are still openings for work, there? I was kinda hoping we could pick up where we left off with all that, or... Well, actually I've been practicing a bit. See, Myrna back at Demitrov's used to be an exotic dancer, but she got all cut up by some bloke what she chastised for bein' nasty. She started working for Demitrov, and I asked her if she'd show me a few moves... Oh, and I learnt a few local songs and practiced my singing." He grinned broadly,

"I'm especially keen on the one about the bloke with four bollocks. It's was a real crowdpleaser at the Cock and Crow." He dug his spoon into the stew, and scooped out a few chunks of meat. His hands had steadied- not completely, but significantly enough that he didn't lose much before it reached his lips.

[Aurin]

"Hey, I never claimed to be a good man!" Although, if his plan had been to lure Arry back to his place for sex, it would have been much easier to do when he was staying in Antiris. "But you should attempt to inspire some erections from your audience. It's good for tips. Mm, more than one kind of tip, too."

He opened his mouth comically wide for a normal spoonful of stew, then smirked around it after removing the spoon. But the terms of his employment would be haggled between him and Madame Lunaria. She would be fairer than most. Aurin would try to push a bit on Arry's behalf, but not too hard or she would resent them both. It was a delicate thing, money.

"Well, if you can pick up choreography and music, they can always use another body on stage. Might be a while before they think you're polished enough for solo things. But I keep my nose mostly out of the artistic side. I'm an appreciateur, but... Yeah. Talk about pits of vipers. Ugh, artists. Anyway, I certainly want to hear the one about the bloke with four bollocks, but I don't want you coughing up lemon cake all over the floor, so... I guess I'll have to wait."

Pausing to peer at Arry, at least just with his eyes so he wouldn't lose his shit, he wondered allowed, "I should probably trim your hair before you meet Madame Lunaria. Get some ointment for that burn." While a little the worse for wear, he knew Arry would charm Lunaria. Well, she would see through his charms, but she would like him anyway. Might even take an extra shine to him for their shared mixed race. He knew it had gone hard for Arry in Antiris, though Lunaria didn't talk a great deal about her past, so he didn't really know if she was a child of trauma, as well.

[Arvælyn]

"That you did not!" Arry agreed, with exaggerated adamancy. His smile quickly fell away and he stared blankly at Aurin in response to the pun, because that was what he deserved. After he'd had a moment to think about what he'd done, Arvine set aside the sardonic banter to speak earnestly:

"But I'll admit it, you were right proper when I met you. When I told the other boys about what had happened and why I wasn't at the market all afternoon, they all thought you had designs on me of an... intimate nature, but I said, 'No, boys! He was right proper." He finished off his bowl of stew the quicker for the mention of lemon cake.

"Aye, I reckon I could pick up a few moves..." Not that he'd tried to, really. His little private dance lessons with Myrna had been of a more improvisational nature than choreographed, but he was a half-elf who looked like a whole elf, and elves were famously graceful, right? "Plus I've got a good ear. Harmonies and everything." He cleared his throat, "I'd sing a ditty for you this very moment, but my throat's well dry from the road. Will I need to try out for a job there?" He wrinkled his nose at the notion. He hadn't considered that. He'd been of the mind that Aurin was a big deal who could just hire him on his own, or just recommend him and it would be done. He did know that Arry was wholly unqualified, didn't he? He stuffed an oversized chunk of cake into his mouth, and followed that up with a gulp of ale.

"Oi, do you have any experience cuttin' 'air? I don't want to wind up looking like a bloody blonde toadstool when I'm fixing to have my big break, you ken?"

[Aurin]

"Well," he began, not really comfortable with earnest except in small doses, "when you're hosting swank parties out of your palace, I might try to bed you, get pregnant so you have to support me for the rest of my life." He winked. "You're pretty Arvine, but you should avoid men like me when it comes to that sort of thing. Trust me."

He rubbed his ginger-stubbled chin thoughtfully. "I am not the king of this castle. I don't know if you remember, but I said you'd have to start doing odd jobs, learning the art on the side until you were ready. "However, Marinia was saying how she needed more bodies for a piece she's working on, and she wanted different shapes and sizes and races and what-all... I think as soon as you're fit for going out, I'll take you next door when it's slow, introduce you, casually mention you're an up and coming dancer. I can hire her short-term dancers... You'll like her. She likes teaching, too. Some people lose their kindness working with the public, especially the drunk and horny public, but she hasn't lost it. You'll learn a lot from her without ever trying. You sing a little in her presence, give her the idea that you are multi-talented, then she can talk to the other artistes and then it won't just be my word for you.

"Honestly, if you aren't a little asshole... show up early, work hard, be dependable... that's one foot in the door already. And it's the kind of place where once you're in, you're in unless you fuck up utterly. This way's a little slower, but more likely for more time on the stage earlier. Start your career farther along, you understand?"

Aurin smiled. For all that he had no desire to perform himself, he paid attention and saw how the business worked.

"Then you'll be able to stay in the residential part of the building—off-limits to the public, even the paying public. Or you'll afford enough to get a place with a couple of friends. Won't have to put up with me anymore, except at work. And yeah... I'm just talking wet your hair, comb it straight, and take little snips so it's the same shape, just a bit neater. I can do that no problem. You want a totally different style, we have to find you an expert."

Considering his young guest, he asked, "Have you got a stage name? Arry the Arsehole? Arvine of the Allmighty Cock? Or were you thinking about leaning into the Hytori aesthetic? Aravalyn Val'Kavafis... Well, that's if I tell them you're my cousin. On your dad's side. So they take pity on you if you get stage fright and wet yourself."

[Arvælyn]

"Who said I wasn't already avoiding you for 'that sort of thing'? That wasn't a swoon when I fell on you... I wasn't swept off my feet, yeah? That was a genuine faint from exhaustion! ...and probably heat stroke and that." Arvine blustered, breaking off another piece of cake and dipping it in too much honey. He may have been an abject, but he still had his pride. Aurin was allowed to think of him as a thief, a wretch, a ne'er-do-well, a gadabout, but not some moon-eyed, simpering swain who'd shown up on his doorstep out of desperation for companionship as opposed to literal desperation. His expression softened and his chewing became less feverish when Aurin started to speak practically about his future prospects.

"Marinia..." He repeated, "That's a nice name. She sounds nice." He said, under his breath, nodding along to the details of Aurin's plan for him. He found he was nervous. In all the fantasies he'd had, it always seemed so easy, but those audiences weren't real. They didn't even have specific faces, they were just a blob of other. The idea of dancing and singing for just one person who'd seen and judged a lot of dancers and singers was uniquely terrifying.

"I think I understand..." Arvine replied, with a pensive knit of the brow, "But if this way is slower, what's the fast way?" He reached for a lock of his long, matted hair with fingers sticky from honey and held it in front of his eyes. "Yeah," He acknowledged, "I could stand a cut couldn't I?" He released the strand of blond and tilted his head at Aurin's question.

"Har har, very funny, but don't you think people would call you a pervert for ogling your cousin all the time? Besides..." He crossed his arms over his chest, as he Elf-splained "Val'Kavafis actually doesn't make sense, because Val denotes nobility so it wouldn't be attached to a human surname. So..." He trailed off and paused, "But I've been told when I clean up I pass for a pureblood, see?" He pulled his hair back to highlight the length of his ears.

"I'm not all snub-eared, am I? Full kitchen knives, these. How do you think..." Arry paused, his uncertain eyes meeting Aurin's amused pair, "How do you think people would like me best?"

[Aurin]

"Faster is we walk over right now and you scrub pots and pans all night...? And then we try to get Madame Lunaria to think... hey, this scullery boy is pretty. I should strip him down, paint him gold, and make him go earn more gold with the paying customers... Faster to employment, not necessarily faster to stardom. Let's just finesse this. You've waited how long to actually get here half dead? Be patient while we put some meat on your bony ass so people will actually want to look at it. In the meantime, I'll work my magic."

Nodding slowly in thought, he decided he would borrow some shears on the morrow and clean up Arry's mop.

"No wonder you like hats," he scoffed. But he tried to leaven his cutting humor when he saw Arvine's face change. "Hey, I don't want to tell you who you are. Your father was human, your mother's an elf. That's just blood. You are who you make yourself. Whatever you choose..." He nodded as if to say he supported it, but saying he supported it would sound too much. "If you're going to play a caricature of yourself on stage... I would say that we are far from Sol'Valen, so passing as a pureblooded Hytori might be more exotic, more lucrative. Maybe that's something you want to talk to Lunaria about, though. It's not a thing I share with you... But, I guess, I'm here if you want to talk about it."

Sometimes, when they were understaffed, Aurin would be behind the bar. As such, when he saw an empty mug, he felt compelled to refill it. If anything, it might help Arry sleep through the night even though he had slept through the afternoon.

"Maybe don't tell them your parentage one way or another. Let them ask if they want, or guess. Just don't hide your light or your ears under a basket, hey? Don't forget the Iron Queen is an elf, as well."

[Arvælyn]

"Awright, then." Arry conceded to Aurin's recommendation, spreading his hands presentationally.

"I am putty in your hands, Aurin... Mould me." Not that Arvine had any qualms with a spot of hard work, if that's what was called for. But if he was going to follow his dreams, he wanted to do it the proper way. As a resident of this city and an entertainment industry insider (at least by Arry's reckoning), Aurin knew that far better than he.

"So, then..." The youth squinted, considering the lessons he was being afforded by the knowledgeable human, "What I'm to take from this is that the most important thing when you want to be a singer or a dancer," He paused, a bit nervous to hazard his understanding and put it out there, unless he was missing the point altogether, "...is to be attractive, so people want to look at you whilst you're doing the... singing and dancing, and that?" He stroked his smooth chin and considered,

"I thought it would be about technique- balancing on your toes and knowing your vocal scales and that. When does all that come into play? I been over here workin' my arse off! When there was a long stretch of road with nobody on it, I practiced until my throat was sore..." He groused, with more energy than Aurin had seen out of him since he'd awoken.

"Oi, the hats are just to cover the daggears! My hair is proper nice when I ain't been on the road through all manner of weather and ain't had a bath in a fortnight. You see- Once I clean meself up it's dead lustrous." He performed an elegant pose, and froze in that dramatic tableau until Aurin's words drew him back to reality.

"That's true... You humans are as prolific as rabbits, innit?" He pictured another persona in his mind, and straightened his back curling his fingers in halfway toward the palms and holding them out in front of his chest. He cast a haughty, supercilious sneer across the table to his host and adopted a not terrible approximation of common as spoken by someone whose first language was Mythrasi. "The laws of supply and demaaand," And elongated ah sound on that word, "Suggest that I would be better served highlighting qualities this rabble might deem to be..." He cocked an eyebrow ever so slightly, "Exotic." He broke character with an abrupt chuckle and accepted the freshened mug of ale,

"Thankee, Aurin!" He said, through his chortles. "That was fun! I always liked doing voices and that. Maybe I can reinvent myself here... Seem like the sort of chap what ought to have a Val at the front of his last name." He chugged down a few gulps of ale and shook his head,

"Can't forget what I never knew, mate. Dunno any queens on this side of the mountains."

[Aurin]

"I've seen some ugly ass dancers," he admitted thoughtfully. "Some were so good it was like magic. The dance made 'em beautiful. I think it's one of those things... you want a little from column A and a little from column B... but preferably a lot of both. So look your best. Be your best. And hope your charisma parlays onto the stage. Some people, doesn't matter what they look like. Sometimes doesn't even matter how good they are. You just want to look. Dunno that it's magical charm, either. But Marinia and... there are a few who will help you out with technique. You'll be in good hands if you need molding. I'll just be here to mind you're getting fed until you're ready to spread your wings and leave the nest, eh?"

Aurin laughed at Arry's antics in spite of himself. It was good to see him, and good to see him energetic and in good spirits.

"Impressions might even be helpful for you. Never know. Oh, so... yeah, point of annotation, I guess. The bird boys rule the roost here. But Avialae ladies don't have the wings? Anyway, the first wife of the Shokaze is Sahfri. Siltori. Cold ass bitch from what I gather. From House Briathos, the sneaky, secretive mages of the lot. At least, that's what I hear. So, I know there's more than one type of elf, but elves don't have too bad a rap here because of people like her, I suppose.

"Speaking of baths. You can get a proper bath next door, but if you wanna wash up..." He indicated the ewer and basin. "I can take a walk and give you some privacy. Of course, there's still more to eat and drink if that more suits your fancy. Try to put it off tomorrow, though, and I'm going to dunk you in the well."

[Arvælyn]

"All right, all right. That makes me feel better." Arry acknowledged, "At least I wasn't completely wasting my time dryin' out my parched throat.."

The thief just stared blankly at the human, as he went into his little social studies lecture.

"Yeah. I got like... three words out of that. I'm sorry. I'll pick it up as I get acquainted with the city. I want to do things right here. No stealin' or pilferin'. I just want to make an honest living... And get really famous with lots of fans, and then become one of those corty-zans you told me about what has the big estate and hosts the fancy parties." He bit his lip and envisioned that life in his mind with a satisfied sigh.

"Oh no, I'd love to wash up straight away!" Arvine stood up, perhaps a bit too quickly as he jostled about before steadying out. "You don't have to leave, though. I'm used to bathing with no privacy and a bunch of rowdy boys throwing corn kernels and that at each other's bollocks because they think it's funny..." He trailed off, and untied the belt of his tunic, letting it drop to the floor.

"I'll warn you ere I whip out me naughty bits." He promised with a little wink, as he turned his soot and sunkissed back on Aurin, to pour the water from the pitcher into the adjacent basin. He cupped his hands and drew some water up to splash onto his face, lightening away the dark smudges that peppered his cheeks.

"I hope I didn't disrupt your week too much... Dropping in and dropping into your arms unannounced, such as it was..."