The Knack [Finn]

[Arvælyn]

"The Knack"

36 Searing, 121
Low City, Kalzasi

It was a boon that Arry's dual careers had so many intersecting skills. He was able to work the same mental and physical muscles as both a performer and as a gatherer of information. A quick tongue, a good ear and a facile memory were important in both enterprises, plus it didn't hurt to keep fit and know how to flirt your way into, or out of, various situations theatrical or otherwise.

It had been a busy month, getting started with Aurin's novel venture whilst trying to advance in his own entertainment career. He had his first audition coming up for a play at The Golden Peacock, which had him very much on edge and constantly haunted with at least a sliver of worry at any given moment of the day.

Today he'd spent a few hours seated at a bar during lunchtime. Fortunately it was a nice bar, and he was afforded some petty cash so the establishments would regard him as a customer and not a loiterer, so he was able to have a nice, gourmet lunch as his ears fixed on the table behind him. He'd gotten there early enough that he was able to read through his monologue and run the lines in his head quite a few times, before his marks arrived and he was about his other work.

When he'd gotten the intel he came for, he tucked his book under his arm, settled up and disappeared out into the street, reemerging at The Velvet Cabaret with enough of a break for a catnap, before it was time to get into costume and makeup for the early show. After the late show, he washed up a bit, changed into something casual and headed out onto the street to hail a coach. After a bit of resistance, he convinced the driver to take him to Low City- Even at a discount, thanks to the subtlest flick of the aether.

After being dropped off in front of The Crown and Lion Inn, he stepped over an unconscious human and made his way into the taproom. He scanned the room even as he made straight for the bar to order himself a nightcap,

"One glass of Carine de Crown, please." He said with a smile and a wink to the barmaid, before leaning his back on the bar and turning to regard the small stage and the familiar performer who graced it.

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[Finn]

The barmaid replied with a blank expression, but luckily the fancy elf looked away and she was able to scour the bar behind her and find the fancy bottle covered with dust. This was not a fancy place, and such drinks weren't often imbibed. She gave the open neck a whiff and figured it smelled like it hadn't gone off. Pouring a glass and setting it where he wasn't likely to knock it over and give her more work, she went about her business.

It was a common taproom, but for all that, it was well-maintained. The clientele were regulars, mostly craftspeople who made ends meet just fine in the Low-City but had no uncommon pretensions of moving up to the Commons or beyond. This was a neighborhood where generations of the same families had made their homes. In Finn, they had adopted a sort of mascot. His uncle didn't live in the neighborhood but traded with enough of them that when he had brought him in and asked for his nephew to have an interview with the proprietor, it had all worked out.

Now Finn lived above and worked down below when he wasn't attending classes at the Academy, working for Lyra, or courting a pretty young man who lived up in the Plaza of Jeweled Arches. This place, though, was comfortable like an old shoe and he seemed utterly at ease.

He smiled when his eyes alighted on that pretty young man who had hoofed it all the way from a nicer borough to meet him in his. It was a lovely surprise, and while the smile brightened the tone of his voice, his clever fingers plucked bits of Yellow into the mellow song he was playing, a song suited to the simple, sedate pleasures of this crowd.

It wasn't until Arry looked away to reach for his glass that his music changed, the strains of his lute, the melody of his voice, and the magic of his rune reaching out to caress the half-elf quite intimately.

"Steal my heart and hold my tongue
I feel my time, my time has come
Let me in, unlock the door
I've never felt this way before..."

.

[Arvælyn]

Arry winked when Finn's eyes met his and offered a coy little wave just in front of his shoulder. He shook his head, blushing at the familiar fingering of the song over which they'd bonded so early on. He glanced over his shoulder to find that his wine had been delivered, and turned so it was his side rather than his back leaning against the well worn wood. It granted him a more direct view of the stage, and easier access to his drink which he drew to his lips as the music shifted and lyrics emerged.

He tilted his head, curiously, unfamiliar with the melody, when a tune he'd come to know far better emerged amidst the overtones and he took in a shuddering breath as his body writhed in one rolling wave that started at his head and traveled south. He caught the bar for support and nearly spilt his wine, before regaining control of his faculties. He knew Finn hadn't sent him into spasms on purpose, unless he was more devious on his home turf, but he hadn't anticipated the tender tingle that tickled his very soul.

He noticed the barmaid eying him suspiciously in his periphery. She was probably worried he'd been overserved elsewhere and was swooning out of inebriation, rather than internal ecstasy. He turned to cast an apologetic smile her way,

"He's very good, isn't he?" He said, biting his lip, then turned back to regard Finn as he continued and ultimately completed his set. Over the course of the hour, Arry was mostly left alone, though he was marked for two pickpocketing attempts which he recognised instantly and quashed before he lost coin. He knew their tricks too well, and he wasn't an easy person to distract with flattery or feints. He did have a few neighbours at the bar with whom he exchanged a few pleasantries, one of whom was a human woman who looked to be in her forties who seemed to fancy the look of him. All the while, he kept his energies open to Finn so they could be connected the whole while the human boy plied his art and wowed his crowd. Arry, for his part, just talked him up and nursed the same glass of wine throughout the set.

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[Finn]

"Aye, we like 'im," she agreed. "He's right appreciated here. Going to be a proper bard someday and we'll say we knew 'im when..."

His set was solid. The crowd was appreciative of him, though not in awe. They were used to him. He was a fixture here. While Arry seemed to be a respectful customer, those who were new faces and not making proper purchases quickly saw themselves out, especially when they realized that people in this taproom looked out for each other.

At the end of his set, the music started heading toward their duet and he worked a teasing, challenging melody into Arry's aether, but the half-elf was saved by the proverbial bell—Finn's supper bell, though no actual bell was rung at that moment. Instead, the proprietor waved him over toward the bar and Finn kept playing as he wandered over, though it was only a brief coda so his music wouldn't end too abruptly. His supper and a pint of ale were laid out at the empty space between Arry and the wall.

"I suppose you've earned supper," she said, a bit surly, though it was all an act.

"Thank you, ma'am," he said brightly stowing his lute carefully in the corner behind him and taking his seat.

"Mm," she grunted and moved off to the other side of the bar to gossip with some of the regulars.

"Hello, sir," he said, just as brightly, to Arry. "I hope you've enjoyed my music tonight." He took a sip of his chilled ale and sighed, relaxing immediately.

Finn wasn't sure exactly how to proceed, though his hand patted Arry's knee under the bar. He certainly wasn't ashamed of Arry, but if he gave him a kiss right here and now, everyone would know something was up. This was literally his home. The thought wasn't terrible, but it hadn't really occurred to him until Arry was there. They had managed to see each other a bit, though they were always left wanting more. Perhaps that was for the best in some ways, though it was difficult to believe that whenever they parted.

They hadn't really talked about how to behave at the Velvet Cabaret, which was literally Arry's home, at least for the moment. Would Madame Lunaria consider it bad for business if she caught him kissing Arry in front of former clientele? Clearly, there were conversations that needed to be had, but that prospect didn't make him nervous. He just wanted to know how best to comport himself so their relationship, wherever it led, was not a detriment to either of their lives.

"Thanks for coming," he added, more quietly, his smile warm and a touch vulnerable.[/right]

[Arvælyn]

Arry chuckled at the woman's diction, recognising that her dialect was not dissimilar from that of Arvine. He played the chuckle off with an approving nod, so it would seem more a friendly tic than ridicule.

It wasn't clear to Arry whether he first recognised the familiar musical motif or the shift in Finn's energies that implied he had designs to draw him onto the stage, and a blush crept up his neck. He started to make a mild mental protest, which was a challenge of its own that begged Finn to contradict it and insist, but then Finn was walking toward him and fading out his music- Or at least the music he played upon the lute.

"'Twas enchanting, sirrah." Arry played along, but leaned in to whisper, "Sorry I'm early..." He got enough of a sense of Finn's trepidation not to push the envelope on his end, so his hands remained folded on the bar before them.

"Are you through for the evening, or just on a break?" A few of the patrons on neighbouring barstools with whom he'd been chatting, seemed a tad surprised that Finn had come right over and started talking to the stranger in their midst. His ears perked to listen in as one pair debated whether they already knew one another or if Finn was just one of those afflicted with the all too common fetish for pretty elves. Another couple were discussing whether Finn would pose enough of a distraction for them to cut the fancy Elf's purse, which caused said fancy Elf to shift its place on his belt so the weight of the coin was actually resting on his lap.

"Oh, it's my pleasure. I've been meaning to get down here for ages. You seem well-regarded... Not that I'm surprised to find it so."

[Finn]

"Well, I should hope they do," he said earnestly. "I've lived upstairs for a few years now and I know just about everyone in here."

He flashed a smile, but it faded when he noticed hints of leeriness in Arry's symphony. It was easier when he was singing, but he didn't need to in order to use his mesmerizing powers. His aether worked its way through the room, turning everyone's attention to something else rather than the two of them. When he was certain he had created a knot of privacy around them, at least for the moment, he leaned forward and kissed Arry sweetly on the mouth.

"I'm glad you're early." That said up close, he sat back down. "Have you eaten?" He didn't feel right eating if Arry hadn't, but he took a sip from his beer. Their schedules were wild things, prone to change, so he was just glad to have any time with Arry at all. He could be adaptable. He would have to be in order to have any sort of social life while juggling music, his part-time job, and his education.

"We can go somewhere else. I'll just bolt this down..."

Blue eyes searched Arry's face for direction even as he listened to the music his soul made. It was a comforting song, he found, and it resonated with his own in ways that he hoped would be good news for their budding relationship. He also wondered if the "music" he heard with his rune could be transcribed into instruments and voices or if that was the purview of Syren, the Moritasi of Music. He certainly hoped that if he ever attempted it, She would consider it something better than mere hubris.

[Arvælyn]

Arry returned the kiss without losing his smile, and glanced to Finn's plate.

"Oh, I guess I haven't." And he seemed to take the question for an invitation, as he reached for the dinner roll and broke it in half. He left one half on the plate and took a delicate bite of the other, then washed it down with the wine he was still nursing.

"We can go somewhere else if you'd like," Arry shrugged one shoulder, "But I just thought you'd give me the grand tour of The Crown and Lion terminating in your private chambers..." There was a bit of seductive energy flowing under his words, but it wasn't dominant enough to be cumbersome. It was more an open invitation than an urging.

"It was rather a long day for me, but I'm happy to be concluding it in your company." A little stakeout, followed by a two-show evening, but at least he'd gotten that nap in.

"Were you itching to paint the Low City red tonight?" He wondered aloud. They hadn't really set a plan for the evening and, if Finn was keen to be social, Arry certainly wasn't opposed. He commandeered Finn's butter knife and spread a bit onto his half of the roll, before claiming another satisfying bite.

He considered the hum of their conjoined symphonies in silence for a moment, before musing:

"Do you think we'll grow dependent upon one another if we keep ourselves tethered whenever we're in the same vicinity? As you know I'm not particularly schooled in our shared talent, but I wonder whether I'm slowly becoming addicted to Finn... Should I be aware of any particular side effects?"

[Finn]

"Well, now I just want to get some food packed up and maybe a bottle or two of wine to bring upstairs..." His voice coiled inside Arry along with his tentative lusts, not wanting to dissemble but not wanting to push either. He smiled as they shared his meal. It felt comfortable.

But Finn considered the pertinent question as he thoughtfully partook of his evening meal.

"I haven't heard anything about addictive properties," he said slowly, "though I suppose anything pleasurable could become a habit." He imagined people had grown addicted to Arvalyn Val'Cithaeron. He wondered if he would too, even though Arry seemed more concerned about becoming addicted to him, which was flattering, albeit humorous to Finn's mind. "I will ask my sometimes teacher to be certain. And we will be careful." He smiled then caught the barmaid's attention, asking her to pack up some food and a couple of bottles of wine for him to take up to his room. The proprietor let him keep a tab. But not since the first month of his time at the Academy had he ever not been more than square with Crown and Lion when it came to his performing versus room and board.

Everyone else remained distracted by other conversations, following the suggestion of his silent melody. It was tricky moving from mind to mind, watching for who needed suggestion next, but he supposed it was good practice. Certainly, Arry seemed a wunderkind at such, and Finn was supposed to be the more learned of the two.

"I vote for me giving you a brief tour of the Crown and Lion, then repairing to my room. If you want to paint that red, I suppose I could get used to the color."

[Arvælyn]

Arry felt a rush and goosepimples rose upon his forearms. The half-elf very much enjoyed spending time in public with Finn. He liked to show off how handsome his date was and how good they looked together- Like sun and moon. The shades of Frost in Finn's colouring paired so nicely with the Searing in Arvalyn's. Arry was keenly aware that people looked at one or both of them often. He didn't need his Rune to tell him what was on their minds. Pretty much the same thing that was on his own, about now, as he slid off his barstool.

"I think I have an addictive personality." Arry noted, knitting his brow, "So do be cautious with me, or I'll be chasing that sweet high of you for the rest of my days." He ran his tongue over his lips absently, and then swept his fingers through his hair to push a few strands out of his eyes.

Finn felt eager, which couldn't have been more vindicating to Arry's own urges. He'd come down to Low City to the place where Finn lived to fulfill some of the fantasies he'd mused over in the privacy of his costume closet-cum-bedchamber. He was no stranger to physical intimacy, to be sure, but something told him it would be very different with this boy. Not only because of their shared talent for manipulating symphonies, but also because he'd grown to care so much for him. It had always been different with Aurin, in that way, as well... Where his investment in his partner's pleasure derived from genuinely wanting to please him, rather than wanting a nice tip for his troubles. With Finn they wouldn't be troubles, at all.

"...I mean... The tour will keep 'til morning, won't it?"

[Finn]

"All roads lead to my room...?" he offered with a smile.

But at the mention of addiction, he smiled, and finished his drink. With a little concentration, he let his rune lapse into quiescence and stood up, collecting the burlap sack the barmaid had packed everything into for him. Anyway, he had done a good enough job sowing distraction into the rest of the patrons, so nobody was paying attention now and they could escape.

"It's a sweet gig," he admitted, offering Arry his arm. "Room and board for a fair amount of playing, but the audience isn't rude or demanding, and they are rather understanding about scheduling conflicts. Between my ongoing schooling, other gigs, and such. I had hoped somebody from the Crown and Lion would show up at the Velvet Cabaret for our performance, but the general consensus is it's too rich for their blood." He smiled and shrugged and led Arry out, but not before nodding toward the kitchens and identifying them in case he hadn't seen from whence came the victuals. He nodded toward stairs leading up to some of the rooms and down to the basement, identifying those as well as if they mattered to Arry at all.

Out the back door was a small courtyard kept tidy, across from which were the stables. These were modest, but smelled more of sweet hay than manure, so that was for the best. An outdoor stairway led up and up to the third floor, which was actually an attic garret, which fully painted the picture of the starving artist though Finn didn't really miss meals.

"It's nice in its way, having a separate sort of entrance." He unlocked the door and led Arry inside. "Welcome to my humble abode."

It was humble, but it was clean and tidy except for the papers all over the table. He had apparently been working on some composition or another when last he was in his room. But it was basic enough, furnished with a bed, a table, a chair, and—thankfully—a hearth. That had been an important fixture given it was basically the inn's attic, or part of it.