Legend of Ransera

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.

"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.

"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.

"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.

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.