Legend of Ransera

It was said that the Velvet Cabaret rarely closed entirely. A dedicated reveler might wish to see dawn creeping over the horizon when they quit the premises. More dedicated revelers wouldn't stop until their bodies gave out with exhaustion, full of sensual pleasures. Part of Aurin's job was gauging the clientele and ushering them toward the end of their night before they got violent, violently ill, or other things inconvenient to him. As the place normally only closed in parts during slow hours to allow for cleaning, Aurin could not be in all places at all times forever and always, so he wasn't the only fixer in the place. Some would say manager, though Madame Lunaria didn't delegate authority so much as responsibility. The man with straight teeth and a crooked smile was perhaps the most senior of her lieutenants if only because he had stuck around long enough to earn her trust. Or because her cat had liked him straightaway—it was difficult to tell sometimes.

Everyone had strange schedules, especially those working behind the scenes. For as much as Aurin spent a great deal of time with the clientele, when an undercook got sick, he was as like as not to step in. So it was today, custom slow in the morning, but plenty to prepare for lunch and ahead of time for supper. It was best to keep people inside and eating rather than leaving for food. Madame Lunaria liked all their coin.

"Well, I'm chopping as fast as I can," he declared, then laughed, softening what could have been defensive from someone else. "Why don't you stay over there and stir your soup, do your alchemy. Anyone can chop vegetables."

"Mind you, keep them uniform," warned the cook, stirring the pot on the other side of the kitchens. "None of that rustic bullshit you tried to pull last time."

"Mmhm," he replied, chopping rather quickly, really. He wasn't much of a cook, but he knew his way around knives. And daggers. Most of the people working here knew that. They just didn't know how good he was. Good enough that they could feel safe with him around if someone got rowdy or belligerent.

He had a collection of sharps back in his little cottage, but nobody ever saw the inside of that. Glancing at the little clock on the wall that magically kept time, he considered how long he could help in here before he ought to go check on the rest of the establishment. All things considered, he had helped with quite a bit of the preparatory work, which would help prevent the cook from developing epilepsy from stress.

5 Frost 120

"Aurin!" Nnerka's voice echoed through the halls in its usual melodic cadence, the tap of her feet an accompanying sound. She'd been searching for the man for no more than five minutes, and was already losing patience. As well as developing an appetite. The spider couldn't be sure that she would find the man in the kitchen, but she would find a snack to replenish her energy, allowing her to resume her search. Or, she could do both at the same time.

She pushed the door to the kitchens open with a flourish, several heads turning to look at her. They returned to their tasks, hands and eyes paying closer attention to any food laying about. Unwatched, they would be eaten without hesitation. Most of the cooks and kitchen runners had learned that the hard way whenever Nnerka came to pay a visit. A symphony of scents and sounds welcomed her, though -- the sizzle of cooking meat, the fragrant cries of greens being cut. But, her attention was stolen away from the food in favor of the prey that she had sought from the beginning.

Hunched over dishes, he looked something of a sight. Her lips twitched up into a smile as she stifled a laugh, one that ultimately escaped as she drew closer. Aurin would have heard her approach; she did nothing to hide it. That, and she'd bumped a leg into a pan, uttering an apology as she went.

"You lose a wager - which I told you you would - and run to the kitchen to escape it?" She propped her chin in her hands, leaned against the nearest counter. "I don't mind waiting, but you are going to take those lessons with me.

It didn't take magic or being a creature of the wild to know when one was being stalked. Aurin had survived, growing up in the vicious wilds of another city, and had the instincts of both predator and prey. There was always something more wicked, more hungry out there. He had known Nnerka a while now, knew her better than her patrons did, at least. He wasn't quite sure which of them would be predator and which would be prey in any given scenario, which put parts of him on alert whenever she was around. The rest of him enjoyed the low-key rush.

Rolling his eyes at her, he said, "Stop knocking into things with that fat ass. But have something to eat. They like that ass out there, obviously."

Considering whether harp lessons would be more or less painful than this, he made a decision. Anyway, he had done about as much as he could to help the kitchens along.

"Chef!" he called, cleaning his hands to move from one station to the next. "I'm just going to check on the soufflés—"

"Don't you fucking—" As predicted, Chef was about to go ballistic. "GET OUT."

"All right, all right, just trying to help..." His tone was purposefully patronizing, then he murmured to Nnerka. "Let's go." And he didn't know about her ass, but his was hungry, so he filched an apple and a scone that was so hot he had to bounce it on his hand to avoid burning his fingers. "Ow, fuck. All right... is someone going to teach us or are we just going to pluck strings randomly and gaze longingly into each other's eyes?"

Once out of the way of the well-oiled kitchen clockwork machine, he stepped back in case anyone came barreling down the hall, and looked to her to lead the way. There were some backstage places where three harps could be set up for a lesson, or perhaps they were going next door to the Peacock's rehearsal spaces with one of their musicians. He didn't rightly know. Regardless, he complained the whole way because that was just expected from him. In reality, he thought it might be a nice change of pace.

Sometimes, Nnerka wondered what it was that Aurin did. She would find him at times in the oddest of places, but never thought to ask. Outside of, of course, pestering him. She’d known him long enough to do that. At the remark on her ass, she merely shrugged. Of course, they would like her ass fat. And she would keep it that. Her eyes narrowed as she watched him a moment longer, glancing over at the chef who seemed rightly upset with the man in their kitchen.

“Well, I managed to convince one of the musicians to help us out for now.” Convinced was a nicer word to use than coerce. The poor woman was trapped, without much else to do but accept the request made of her. Sure, it would take out of rehearsal time, but Nnerka had promised that she’d make it up to the woman. She swept a loc of hair from her shoulder, over her back. She lead them to the auditorium, a certain glee to her steps. “She said she wouldn’t mind giving us a few lessons. And I think you would find it hard to stare into my eyes, given you never seem to know which ones to look into.” Not always true, but she did find some joy in pointing it out when it did happen.

She, for what it was worth, was giddy. Learning an instrument had always been appealing to her, especially since joining the courtesans at the cabaret. Before, with her family, it had been something that had been too readily available, and thus she was prone to putting it off. Especially if she caught wind of a hunt, and then the idea of finding someone for lessons was gone with the wind. Now, though, she had time to think when she wasn’t working. That, or to gossip, but she found that most of the others had a certain...wariness when it came to her. Understandable, really.

She wondered how threatened they were by her presence. How much more so they would be when she acquired a new skill? Would it not make her that much more appealing? The idea of it pleased her, knowing that she could shift her way up the food chain of the cabaret with just a few simple lessons. Obviously, practice would need to be involved, but — still. She grinned, glanced over at Aurin. “This is going to be quite fun, I think. Maybe you’ll be able to woo a couple pretty bedfellows with your beautiful harp playing.”

"I hope you didn't hurt her too much," he said, having an inkling of how Nnerka got her way sometimes. Anyway, there were some clients who enjoyed a bit of pain and who was he to judge them? It wasn't his thing, really. He could deal with pain, but it didn't get his rocks off. "Oh, when in doubt about which eyes to gaze longingly into, I just default to staring at your chest."

His smile was winsome. It was also patently fake, but fake enough that he wasn't really trying. At her suggestion of bedfellows, he snorted.

"You know I only have eyes for you. I'm sorry it's just the two, though. So... heard any good gossip lately?"

They were making their way toward the rehearsal spaces, but it never hurt to ask. A fair amount of his intel came from clients by way of gossiping courtesans. The ones who liked to gossip might get a bit better treatment; he figured it was owed since he occasionally acquired a pearl of wisdom that he could share with an interested party. He didn't have any of them on his payroll yet; his organization was still in its infancy. Perhaps eventually, he might be able to employ others properly, but these things had to happen slowly, organically. They weren't illegal insofar as he was aware, but being an answer man was a bit on the shady side. One wanted to get in touch with the right people, but not be so out in the open about it that everyone knew they might be able to beat valuable secrets out of a person. And a fair amount of secrets he couldn't sell because they might endanger his co-workers. He did have some ethics.

Nnerka was on his list, though, of people he might hire once he was able to expand his little side gig.

As they walked and as he waited to hear what she might know, he rolled his fingers lasciviously.

"Just warming them up."

“No one likes a liar.” The usual musical cadence of her voice mixed with a chuckle as she spoke. She’d come to learn a lot about expressions. In her time at the cabaret. Mostly, those that encompassed emotions outside of fear and loathing. However, she couldn’t get much of a read on Aurin. Maybe that was something that held her attention on the man at any point. She couldn’t be sure if what she was seeing — and hearing — was forced. Which meant he the hint of predator within him. Which, in turn, made him worthy of any ounce of her time.

On the subject of gossip, she shrugged. Nothing much from her coworkers. Usually, from her customers — it was a mixed bag of gossip and useless information. Things about their home life and family that just didn’t cut it for them. Fears of someone finding out the true nature of their visits in the cabaret. Unwarranted moments of asking for advice; things like this. From time to time, their lips would loosen and information that ought not be shared with any would find its way into her ears, only to be forgotten some time later because she’d care much for it.

“Not much. Just a lot of talk about that Rose lady or whatever. Something about marriages and arrangements. Seems there are a lot of people seeking her hand in marriage, or something about her parents putting a bounty on her for it.” Another shrug. She couldn’t care less, really. She’d never really met the woman firsthand, and likely never would. “One of the noble houses thinks they might go under because their son is a degenerate. His mother came to see me and blamed me for her son’s perversion, though I’m not quite sure I know what that word means.” She squinted, racked her brain for something she could compare the word to in Valasren.
Their teacher wrung her hands together. A small, mousy woman — almost literally; she felt the urge to crawl into the skin of a mouse once more and scamper off, but the spider was already here — with a smile fake enough that she could almost convince herself she wasn’t scared.

“Is this everyone who will be learning?”

“Yes.” Nnerka’s excitement widened her smile, her mandibles pushing the sides of her lips. “It’ll be the two of us.”

The woman swallowed. Gods help her get through this lesson.

"People love a good liar," he said, scoffing. "Else why would they come to the Cabaret at all? Rose lady?" This, he asked casually. Bounties were interesting. Marriages could get tangled up quickly, the affluent and powerful attempting to ensure that their affluence and power stayed in their blood as if their descendants could be depended upon to enact their will into the future. That was the sort of immortality people sought. It didn't sound like Nnerka had anything particularly juicy on the topic, though, unlike her very personal experience with a degenerate young man.

"What sort of degeneracy do they think will ruin their family? Does he like to kill and eat his sexual partners or something?" He considered for a moment. "You don't know perversion? It's roughly synonymous with degeneracy. Abnormal or unacceptable by whatever the common standards of a society, I suppose." He shrugged, mostly adhering to the Harm Principle—that people ought to be free to do whatever they wanted so long as it didn't harm someone else. Of course, he had harmed plenty of people, but he didn't say he was perfect.

Aurin watched with some amusement at the interplay between the courtesan and their intended instructor, who seemed positively terrified by the woman with him. If one must choose between them, it is far safer to be feared than loved. He didn't often worry about Nnerka's safety, though, of course, he still looked after it to the best of his abilities. Aside from it being his job, he didn't want any of his people harmed, nor did he want the Cabaret to be known as a place where people weren't safe or both custom and courtesan would drift away.

"We are ready to learn some fine fingering," he affirmed, interlacing his fingers and stretching them.

“I didn’t know what degenerate meant, either.” Her voice had lost some of its musical cadence in favor of annoyance. It didn’t match the nonchalance of her shrug. “It’s what the man’s mother called him, so I assumed it wasn’t a good word.” As well-acquainted as she was with the language, Common still eluded her in some words. The fancier ones used by people with far too much money. Enough that it would make her head spin. “She did seem rather concerned that he liked the idea of being strung up, though, and playing out the fantasy of being at the mercy of some terrifying creature.”

Their instructor lead them further onto the stage. “So, today. I, uh, wanted to go over the hand positions since that should be easy enough to start with?” Her eyes trailed the two, though they flickered away from Nnerka, something she didn’t pay much attention to. Couldn’t really, with her excitement pushing her attention to the little harp that awaited her. “But you do want to stretch out your wrists and fingers so they don’t cramp up.”

“I need not be told twice.” She rolled her wrists — on all four hands — before moving further up the stage. She moved on to stretching out her fingers as instructed, a soft hum going.

“What we’re going to do for the start of the lesson is go over...hand positions.” That was how she had started. Their instructor nodded to herself, still trembling some as she stepped a bit away from the spider fae. Using her own hands, she began to demonstrate what she wanted of them. “You want to make your hands like you’re cupping an orange.”

“An orange?”

“Yes, over a table, though. So that your fingers are curved, but not too curved.”

Nnerka squinted, shrugged. Did as she was told before looking over at Aurin, wiggling her fingers before returning to the exercise.

“Once you’ve done that, begin to close your fingers like a fist. Slowly, though. So you get the feel for it.”

"There's no accounting for people's disapproval," he allowed. "A person's fantasies ought not be... well, whatever." He shook his head. From what he gathered, the Velvet Cabaret had a varied reputation throughout the city. Many respected it, many were titillated by the idea of it, and many deemed it taboo. People were, in the end, people, with a diversity of opinions. As long as the city itself wasn't against them, wasn't harassing them, then Aurin was fine. It was rare they required help from city guards, so live and let live seemed to be working out for everyone. Except, perhaps, Nnerka's client, but that was a family affair.

Aurin was rather glad to be far away from any remaining family he might have left.

When their instructor began, Aurin kept quiet, doing his best to follow those instructions. He looked at his hands with their myriad of little scars from training, from fighting, from cooking, and from life. They might have gotten gnarled from gripping hilts, but his own training had gotten him into the habit of keeping his hands limber as well. He loosened his wrists and fingers using a little trick he had picked up from a dancer in Cathena forever ago, and then tried to make his hands take the shapes necessary for making music. He wondered if he would have an aptitude for creating something beautiful — or at least passable — with them rather than hurting someone or tossing dice or any of the other degenerate things they did.

He waited for approval from their fearful instructor, wishing his presence were calming even if Nnerka's was not. It was his goal even when off-duty to make his co-workers feel safe. His eyes wandered to Nnerka and her hands, wondering whether she might not eventually play multiple instruments at once, a veritable one-woman band.

Lore:
Aurin:
Blades:
Understanding Multiple Uses

Negotiation:
Bribes as Distraction
Knowing What Is Expected of One
Deception:
Feigning Ignorance
People Love a Good Liar

Acting:
Winsome Expression
Leadership:
Sussing Truth From Gossip
Better Treatment for Good Behavior

Business:
Building From the Bottom Up
Recruiting Talent

Points: 8, not to be used for magic

Injuries/Ailments: None

Loot: None

Notes: What bet with Aurin lose? I need to know.
If Nnerka returns and would like lores just hit me up or DM me and I'll add them.