Legend of Ransera

The Velvet Cabaret
60th of Glade, Year 123 of Steel

"Right, then," Aurin said. "By tomorrow, you will be on the invitation list."

"Thank you," said the unctuous Avialae. Until he had moved from managing the Cabaret to managing the Golden Peacock Theater nextdoor, Aurin hadn't been aware that there were unctuous Avialae. He moved in higher circles now, and he had more social capital, so of course he was using it.

"And I will introduce you to Lord Choi. Now..." He caught the eye of one of the dancers, and she took his meaning, coming over to work her wiles on the winged man. "It seems someone else wants your attention, so I shall bid you good evening."

"Oh. Oh. Yes. Yes, good evening, Master Kavafis... hello."

Aurin chuckled and stood up. She was going to fleece the man, and more power to her. Aurin was a lighter touch these days, having carved out a place for himself and his keiretsu. There was nothing like a high profile position to help feed favors and intelligence into his side hustle.

At the bar, he exchanged his watery ice for a fresh drink, as well as some information with the bartender. The years he had spent here had earned him the loyalty of many of the employees. He had saved their asses on multiple occasions, and they were only too happy to help grease the wheels of his grand endeavor. He tipped well, too.

Leaning against the bar, he looked out over the crowd. He didn't need his Semblance trick to see the ebb and flow of energy, sexual and otherwise. While he could enjoy the show as well as the intoxicants, he was largely inured to them, and so they made good distractions to those he did business with, granting him a bit of an edge. Aurin was always happy to manage a win-win situation, but until that time, it was the art of war out there, and he expected every smiling face to have a knife behind its back.

Realizing there were several faces he didn't recognize, he did engage his Semblance trick, the better to suss out their business. He liked to know things, even if they weren't always useful to him.

"They only allow good nights at the Velvet Cabaret," he said with a conspiratorial smirk.

Certainly, there were beautiful people, entertaining shows, intoxicants, and plenty of other things on the menu. One had to have a chip on one's shoulder and a yen to suffer if they wanted a bad night here.

Aurin gave the stranger a once-over, thinking perhaps he was a clerk or a shopkeeper with his spectacles and overall appearance, but when he delved with his Semblance trick, he realized they shared a Cardinal Rune. If he blinked for a moment, one could attribute it to the hookah smoke that always seemed to reach out into the main room from lounges set aside for them. That little nugget of information made the man more interesting; Aurin liked secrets and he wondered what this man's were.

"What are your plans for the evening?" he asked casually, then took a sip of his drink. "Voyeurism, inebriation...?"

Madame Lunaria prided herself on finding and marketing to any manner of vice. Thankfully, there were no bachelorette parties tonight. The high pitched shrieks of drunken glee and general entitled shenanigans always wore on his nerves. Of course, he had found a way to silence some of them—taking one for the team.

In the meantime, he tried to discern what the man was drinking; there were those who said that a man's choice of drink said something about them. Perhaps it did, though it wasn't the sort of detail Aurin relied upon when figuring someone out. There were plenty of other tells that might reveal themselves the longer he spoke to the man, though for the time being he was only a person of interest because of his Rune. Initiation was rough, and it took a certain innate resilience to even survive them. Traversion would have done a number on him if he hadn't been babysat by a proper witch.

"The spectacle sets it apart from a brothel," he replied and sipped his own drink, a well-balanced bit of alchemy.

"Ah, a sorcerer?" He smiled indulgently. Magic was well-respected in Kalzasi. "Well, I hope your well vodka doesn't make you want to breathe fire. I can't imagine this place could stand up to magical fire. As for gambling, I do from time to time, but more often on a deal than on a hand of cards or a toss of the dice. Slurring tongues might wag here if it's information you're after, though. I do like to hear what people will admit when a bit loose and distracted by loose women. Or men, as the case may be." They even had some courtesans who were neither or both or something else altogether. "But mostly I come because I used to work here and the bartenders pour heavy for someone who used to take care of them."

Aurin glanced around.

"I don't see any sorcerers with their Circle robes up over their heads. Is there anyone in particular you're staking out? I might have heard a thing or two, either here or out and about. I work nextdoor now, at the Golden Peacock Theater. My name is Aurin Kavafis. 'Tis a pleasure to meet you."

He offered a bow from the waist in Kalzasern fashion.

Aurin knew a handful of Circle sorcerers. Some appreciated the theater, others appreciated the cabaret, and yet others were involved in seedy deals of which he was quietly aware. It had taken years, but it felt like he finally had the city on lock. If there was something he didn't know, he usually knew where to look or who to ask, and that would start him on the trail of discovery. He did love unearthing secrets.

"Ahh," he acknowledged knowingly. Aurin knew what he knew, which certainly wasn't everything when it came to magic, but living in Kalzasi where most people could point you toward the Circle of Spells, one picked up a thing or two. "Fire seems like something a child would want—flashy, impressive. Fast travel is something one can bank on. Get out of slippery situations, move goods and people. I suppose you're a clever one."

The redhead grinned into his drink, sipped, and considered.

"Theater isn't for everyone, but the Golden Peacock is the most famous one in the city. It's just next door so you will often hear people offering their amateur reviews after a show lets out. That way you can hear whether it's something you might like." He shrugged. Everyone had their own preferences when it came to entertainment, whether that was types of theater or types of courtesans. Then again, several of the 'courtesans' here were courtesan in name only, and prostutite in fact—not that Aurin cared a fig. He understood the distinction, but work was work and sex work was sex work and he didn't judge anyone for making ends meet. Gods knew he had done some underhanded shit to survive over the years.

His brow furrowed; gulping vodka seemed like a bad idea, but this Ivar Shipper had made his selection. Aurin followed his line of sight surreptitiously, and glanced back before one could track that he had been looking for anyone.

"He enjoys the games of chance when people are playing. Works as far down in the commons as you can go before having to admit you're in the Low-City. Not the highest of high rollers, but I suppose anyone, given enough leeway, can piss someone off enough to put out a bounty, or...?" Curious hazel eyes settled back on Ivar. Few and far between were the people who just offered to share easy money. Then again, he didn't know if Ivar was capable of incapacitating someone, let alone transporting him. His Rune didn't seem all that well developed yet.

"I can only imagine," he said of the craziness of a magical education. What he knew had been learned by trial and error for the most part. Aurin was lucky to have survived as long as he had; he certainly wasn't clever. He was also much more circumspect about his magic, though he also wasn't a member of the Circle of Spells. If he had those credentials, he might be more open about such things. But as it stood, magic had always been something to hide and so he did.

The ginger just observed as Ivar Shipper blipped out of existence. He sipped his drink calmly, following the line of the slipspace he had taken, and so he wasn't surprised either when he returned.

At least the goons were quick about it. The Velvet Cabaret was no longer under his management, but the bouncers would move in if people or property were in danger of being damaged. The mark was apparently not a good enough tipper to earn some protection. Aurin knew the man who came in to pay Ivar, and they exchanged nods. The music was starting up again, the courtesans attempting to lull their clients back into good times and easy spending. At least there was nothing apparent connecting them to the goons.

"Best not to get one's hands dirty unless necessary," he agreed. But he eyed the coins. "Are you certain? That's an awfully generous split for someone who just played informant a bit. You went and did the legwork."

Perhaps Ivar was buttering him up for future collaborations, and it was nice to see honor among thieves—or honor among informants, anyway. It didn't hurt to know people. Aurin prided himself on being people who know people, though some of those people were mere glamours and stories he made up so certain things couldn't be traced back to him.