(121-04-27) Lord Pansy Meets the Black Fox
Lord Pansy Meets the Black Fox
Summary: Garvin and Arion are surprised by a confrontation with Caelin
Date: 27 April 4014
Related: none
Players:
Garvin..Arion..Caelin..

Amphitheatre - Whimsy
Sun Apr 27, 121 ((Sun Apr 27 13:32:39 2014))
It is a summer day. The weather is hot and clear.


The Theatre Whimsical Dreams is a three-storey, open-air amphitheatre, approximately ninety-eight feet in diameter, which can house some two thousand spectators. At the base of the stage, there was an area called the yard, where, for a three pennies, groundlings stand on the rush-strewn earthen floor to watch the performance. Vertically around the yard are the three levels of the gallery, with more expensive stadium-style seats.

A rectangular apron-stage platform thrusts out into the middle of the open-air yard. The stage measures approximately forty feet in width, twenty-four feet in depth and is raised about seven feet off the ground. On this stage, there is a trap door for use by performers to enter from the cellarage area beneath the stage.

The back wall of the stage has two doors on the main level, with a curtained inner stage in the center and a balcony above it. The doors enter into the tiring house where the actors dress and await their entrances. The balcony above houses the musicians and can also be used for scenes requiring an upper space. Above the balcony is the apex, which has windows and a battlement-style walk.

Large columns on either side of the stage support a roof over the rear portion of the stage. The ceiling under this roof is called the heavens, and is painted with clouds and the sky. A trap door in the heavens enables performers to descend using a rope and harness. The rest of the theater is crisscrossed with wooden support beams, over which a white oilcloth can be stretched to keep out the rain, and also provide a reflective surface to help light the theater.

There is very rarely any elaborate stage dressing beyond a few pieces of furniture essential to a scene, and there are no painted backdrops. Nor are their curtains to cover the stage. Instead, before a scene begins, someone hangs a sign at the front of the stage, which tells where the scene takes place.


Arion is just coming out of the Tiring House. He is dressed neatly though his hair seems more than a little bit messy. He comes out into the playhouse proper and glancing over his shoulder with a smirk waiting to see what is taking Garvin so long. It is late evening and time for eating dinner. The two of them are apparently getting ready to go out. For a while he stands there waiting and glancing around at his surroundings with a content expression. He certianly looks happy about something.

Garvin emerges though the same door a minute or so after Arion, straightening his flat-crowned hat. He's flushed and a little breathless, catching up to the Florent on the stage. "I shouldn't have Nyran off, I'm terrible at dressing myself. If only Rhaen hadn't disappeared again. Sometimes I wonder if that boy even works for me at all." He pauses, brows drawn together, as he slides his hand down the front of his codpiece. With a satisfied nod, he removes his hand again and smiles. "Ready to go then?"

You'd never know that Caelin just arrived, the dust of the road already brushed off of the taller Florent, hair brushed into a perfect black top as he strides briskly into the theater, sharp black eyes focusing on the boys on stage. "Arion." He doesn't shout, but the voice carried, sharp and quick as a whip.

Arion smiles brightly at Garvin and steps forward wrapping his arms around the other intending to kiss the Tyrell. However the voice has his hand dropping like he was burned. His face drains of color and he turns around slowly to regard Caelin. He tries not to look guilty but he fails spectacularly nibbling his lower lip and looking like a kid that just got caught stealing sweets. "Caelin? What are you doing here…" He looks more nervous tha excited and glances back to Garvin smiling faintly. "Garvin this is my oldest brother Lord Caelin Florent the heir of Brightwater Keep. Brother this is Lord Garvin Tyrell…" He looks back to Caelin his nervousness growing by the second.

Garvin slides his arms around Arion as well, leaning in toward that kiss…which never comes. Like Arion, he quickly steps back and blushes furiously at the sound of a voice, but that color vanishes just as quickly when he gets a good look at the stranger, and his suspicion is confirmed by Arion's words. "C-caelin Florent?" he stammers, almost breathlessly, his fearful eyes shooting to the younger of the two foxes. "Your brother is here?" Wide eyes dart around, seeking the familiar comfort of purple-cloaked guards…but there are none to be found in the playhouse tonight. "L-lord Caelin, it is ind-d-deed an honor to meet you at l-last. As Arion s-said, I am Garvin of House T-tyrell."

"My lord." Caelin bows politely to Garvin, in a crisp and cold tone. "Father sent me to look into troubling rumors we had heard." He walks forward, mounting the stage easily. "Although the rumors are apparently not fast enough to keep pace with your newest efforts to embarrass your family." He continues walking, until he stops, arms folding as he regards the younger men. Boys really. "Or maybe the servants at Foxearth are liars who should be flogged. Tell me that you and your… friend, here, haven't moved into a /theater/, Arion."

Arion flushes pink with emabressement lowering his eyes to the floor of the stage. He can't bring himself to look at his brother and he can't seem to form words either. He certainly looks guilty though shifting his feet and staring at the floor. He chances a quick glance to Garvin trying to see if the Tyrell is faring any better than him. It certainly doesn't seem so.

Garvin frowns suddenly, his eyes narrowing and voice returning to something closer to normal. "I say, Ser Caelin! If you are referring to Arion's newfound skill as an actor, I take exception to the characterization that such a vocation is in any way an embarrassment to your family." He glances to Arion then, growing a bit more sheepsih once more. "On the other hand, if you mean the scandalous and unfounded rumors that have circulated regarding our…." He waves a hand in a futile gesture, trying to find just the right word. "…relationship," is what he settles upon, letting out a small whimper. "All I can say is…I have nothing to say on the matter." He squares his shoulders, lifting his chin defiantly.

Since Arion doesn't seem to be defending himself, Caelin turns his attention to the young Tyrell. "You have nothing to say." He pauses a moment, the black-haired man voice as cold and hard as steel as he looks between the errant boys, "I don't care how skilled an actor Arion is. He has duties to his House. Those duties do not include playing at being an actor, or minstrel. They don't include cooping barrels or cobbling shoes. You, too, my lord," And the words 'my lord' are pronounced by the Black Fox with all the inflection of 'little boy' "Have duties to your House."

Arion looks up as Caelin turns his attention onto Garvin. He seems to find his courage now and speaks up his tone firm. "Brother leave Garvin be. I'm not currently very happy with my family and you are just proving my point." He fixes the older man with a stubborn defiant stare. "I don't care what you say to me or if you want to punish me but you will not insult or harm Garvin!" He steps between the two of them glaring at his brother with angry pale green eyes.

Garvin's nostrils suddenly flare, the tips of his ears reddening, as he draws himself up, shoulders squared and jaw set. "It just so happens," he says, voice dripping with Tyrell haughtiness, as he moves to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Arion, "that my lord father, your liege lord, gave this playhouse into my keeping and has encouraged me to make use of it. I'm sure you did not mean to suggest that my duties to my House include defying Lord Lorant's wishes or commands. Just as I'm sure you did not mean to compare the noble art of mummery to cooping barrels and cobbling shoes. Perhaps you are unaware that my cousin, Lord Loryn, is also a performer here. Now it is not my place to dictate such things for your family, but I should think that if acting were good enough for both the son and the nephew of the Lord of Highgarden, Warden of the South, and so forth, then it is certainly not beneath the dignity of a talented scion of House Florent."

Caelin's cool, black eyes watch both of the youths leap to each other's defense, stony-faced a moment before he murmurs, "So it is true. You are lovers. And not even trying to hide it." The black-haired man is silent a moment. "I cannot speak to the decision of Lord Tyrell, my lord, but House Florent honors the gods. We do not do whatever we please."

Arion goes a bit pale but he holds his ground glaring at Caelin. "Yes brother I love Garvin and nothing you say will change that! All my life my family has treated me with disadin as if I was a burden. Now that I've finally found happiness you want to steal it! All you lot have ever offer me is scoldings and rules to follow without any incentive or praise for doing this. Why should I comply to the wishes of the gods or you brother?! This is about your pride yours and the families. I'm sorry I don't share it but I see no reason to support those that obviously despise me!" Arion is obviously angry now and only seems to be gaining steam as he goes on.

Garvin flinches when Caelis speaks the truth of their relationship aloud, but for a moment, it looks as though he will jump in to defend Arion and himself. But Arion beats him to it, and Garvin looks at him with not only affection, but pride as well. For once, Lord Pansy decides to remain silent and let someone else do all the talking, adding only, "If the gods find fault in our love, they've given no signs that I've read." Then he lifts his chin again, fixing Caelis with another defiant look and standing his ground beside his beloved.

"All your life, your family has provided you with support and opportunities that low-born actors and mummers and coopers and bakers and every other tradesmen can only dream of. It is a discourtesy to both yourself and those that the gods have showed less blessing towards to envy the smallfolk their trades." Caelin speaks softly, although the hard edge to the older Florent's voice doesn't disappear. It never does, really, stepping closer to his younger brother, sparing Garvin only a glance. "Our father is all but on his deathbed, Arion. Do you think I have made no sacrifices in preparing to assume his responsibilities? And here you are. Unchanged. Still a child. Perhaps I should treat you like a child." He continues in that soft, dangerous voice. "I seem to remember offering you more than scoldings."

Arion glares up at Caelin defiant but those last words have him going pale. His anger seems to abate a little in favor of caution and then the rest of what Caelin said sinks in. "Father is geting sicker then?" He looks troubled by this and finally he sighs softly looking up at Caelin stubbornly but much calmer now. "Perhaps we should talk about this later in private Brother? When that happens I'll let you vent your frustrations on me if you like. I won't even resist because I know Garvin is worth whatever pain you can inflict on me." He glances to his love and smiles warmly reaching out to squeeze the Tyrell's hand lightly in reassureance. Then he releases that hand and looks back to Caelin once more.

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