(122-06-16) On Plays and Parties
On Planning Plays and Parties
Summary: Lord Clovis and Prince Jurian discuss upcoming social events in Oldtown. The name of a certain Maester comes up a few times.
Date: (16/06/2015)
Related: None.
Players:
Clovis..Jurian..Ronas..

Quill and Tankard
Hightower And Citadel

The faint rain makes drinking indoors an excellent choice of activity, so here Jurian is. He seems to find it more fun to drink in public venues than at home. He's currently perched on a stool, where some crotchety smallfolk man has taken it upon himself to talk to him. Jurian looks quietly disgusted.

With the wet weather Lord Clovis has today traded some of his more lightweight Dornish wear for a thick formal robe of sorts. The style is still decidedly Dornish with it's pale yellow accents hidden amidst a cheery blue that insulted the sullen sky with its very shade. The fair colored young man in the long sleeve belted tunic that falls almost to his feet enters the establishment with a bit of soaking silk scarf as his only protection from the drizzle. This soaked bit of silk hasn't done much to keep his normally feathered hair free of rain. The blonde handgs on his brow in unsightly tendrils. He hands the fine silk scrap to a serving maid who seems unsure at first but thanks the Lord for his gift. His cast off gift. "Pay it no mind, just fetch me something warm and mulled love.." The Tyrell requests kindly as he walks in farther from the door.

"Stop talking to me, you old swine," Jurian finally says to the old man, who is shocked by the rudeness, falling back a pace as his mouth gapes like a trout. Jurian looks over his shoulder and seems delighted to see Clovis there. "Lord Clovis!" he exclaims. "You! You shall come and sit next to me."

As someone calls his name the reaction is kind but laced in a bit of vainity. He'd already been trying to fix his hair but his hands fall away from the process as he turned to face Jurian. "My Prince, what a pleasure." Lord Clovis sidesteps past the 'swine' be he does so with a mildly apologetic little nod and not a word for the smallfolk man. To the Prince he muses, "I did not think royalty would be out and about on a day like this, awful weather." He fluffs his hair once more and its starting to look at least presentable. "I myself might have hid away inside if there were more to drink." A chuckle and his mulled brandy arrives in a steaming flagon with the scent of spices to follow. He look in his cup and before the maid can walk off calls, "I'll have orange slices as well- if you've got it."

Jurian gives a quizzical look to the young lord's hair. Either he doesn't know why Clovis is fussing with it, or he thinks it still looks bad. "Oh, dear, Ser Loryn not keeping the manse well-stocked?" he teases, looking Clovis over. "My, I suppose you aren't used to quite so much rain in Dorne." He sips from the honeywine he has. "No, in my family, we tend to see enough of one another as it is. I was happy to get out."

"Parts of Dorne are quite lush, it has its weather too." Clovis raises his tankard with a mild nod before he took a tentative first sip on the steaming beverage. "He's got alot on his plate but he does a fine job. Just can't shake a stick at the Quill's mulled brandy." He doesn't propose a toast but if his hair was determined to spite him he might as well drink away the anxiety- he takes another sip. Adding after, "I'm also on my way to The Citadel, truth be told, I'm looking for Maester Ronas. My father has asked him to teach me Economics and the clevel old goat offered to help me write a play." There is a cheeky little smirk on the young Tyrell's face. "Perhaps it will be about Economics, we are still discussing the details but I think Ronas has many ideas. What better day to hear them than one in which I can't enjoy the sun?"

"Mm, is that so," Jurian replies, as if this information probably won't stick with him long. The offending smallfolk man goes off to the other side of the tavern, scowling, when no one takes his side. "Oh, good," says Jurian. "I hope it will /not/ be about economics. It's much more important for you to learn to write plays. Maester Ronas seemed /very/ intelligent to me. He will teach you well, I warrant." He reaches out to move aside one small, stray lock of hair that had plastered itself to Clovis's forehead, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he should probably ask before invading the noble's personal space in such a manner.

Lord Clovis is listening along with colloquial calm as he adds, "Perhaps I should say the coast is lush, I've never seen the harsh heart of the desert country. Always travelled by bo- oh." The noble blinks a bit in suprise but not anger as the hair is swept aside for him. He smiles kindly at the Prince but deigns not to mention the gesture just there, asking instead, "If not Economics what? What does the Prince want to see a play about?" There is a playful seeming in the way he asked that and went right for another sip of brandy so he could look away from Jurian.

Jurian simply smiles. "Oh dear," he says, picking up his drink again and sipping from it. "There are so /many/ things I'd like to see, how can one choose?" He looks up toward the ceiling. "I think tragedies are beautiful, don't you?"

"I suppose, in their way." There is an odd little smile on Lord Clovis' face that suggests he prefers a more sunny sort of show. He isn't trying to be rude as he added honestly, "Although I do love to laugh.. I imagine a good marriage of the two might be something inspired. A dark tale that makes one laugh along the way in spite of tears shed later." There is a musing nod and he takes a long sip now that the steam is starting to subside on his brandy. "Like life." A wry sort of laugh escaped him with those words adding idly, "Or an allegory for it."

Jurian tilts his head. "That would be fascinating," he says, apparently genuine. "You seem best suited to smiles, but I must say I'm curious about what you would look like in sorrow." His expression does not acknowledge that some might consider that a very weird thing to say. He sips his honeywine. "Mm, yes, something that spans the full breadth of experience."

And if Clovis were anything -but- an actor of sorts he might take those words as loaded from a Targaryen. Yet, he smiles all the same, "A proper challenge for the stage." Lord Clovis comments and he sets his flagon down as a few orange slices on a plate are finally served to them. He takes one and squeezes it into his cup with persnickety little finger movements before just dropping the fruit inside. "A bit of physical comedy as well… dance. I know Maester Ronas said he expected me to create the dances.." The Tyrell trails off at a wonder as he adds, "I wonder if Loryn's met him.."

Jurian watches the fruit pieces get crushed with precision, then looks back to the young lord's face. "Yes, I rather doubt the good Maester is an expert in dance, but you won't need help /there/…" He shrugs at the question. "Well, he seems good enough at introducing himself to nobility."

"Mm, I agree." Lord Clovis gesture a hand at the remaining fruit, "If it pleases you, have some." This is said before he takes a sip off his brandy with more relish this time. "Really makes the drink."

"Should I write a play for the Glory of the Targaryens?" It seems as if he is being coy just there but adds with polite intent, "I'd certainly need help with that…" The pause is appropriate but fishing, "There are just too many fascinating tales to chose from."

"Hmmm, welll…" Jurian says, drawing ut the words as he reaches out for a piece of fruit. "I'm not much of a historian, but I couldn't resist lending a hand if you wished it. Of course, you must be very careful not to be offensive in your representation. Some of my kinsmen can be…unpredictable in their responses."

"That is why I think I would need a Prince on retainer if I were to try anything so dangerous with a name like Tyrell and alliances as I've won." The Dornish, Clovis means of course… "It is a thought, your political guidance and Master's Ronas' mind for history in accompaniment with my dances. A play like that could be performed for centuries under the right rule. It is a way to live on in death." So, maybe, just maybe, he is trying to pander to the Prince's ego with that one. As maid wanders past he hands her his flagon to be refilled.

Jurian chuckles quietly. "I'm not sure I want my name to be on it," he says. "I am no artist, and it is much worse on me if /I/ offend my own family."

"No one will be offending your family. I'm sure of it." Lord Clovis turns to face him more fully and levels a long look at the violet at eyes. "I cherish your insight and the last thing I want is to be sent running back to Dorne following my first opening night." He chuckles but there is an honesty under those words in the shape of unspoken respect… possibly fear. "Oldtown is rather growing on me."

Jurian smiles slowly at the promise. "Well, then," he says. "How could I refuse? It's growing on me, as well. I want to have such /fun/ here. I want there to be spectacle, and light. I want there to be—I say, I'm going to throw a party for my young cousin. Would you like to perform? It's short notice…"

"Oh, I would love to!" Clovis sits up at the invitation to a Targaryen party. "I have acts in my repetoire that should be appropriate I'm sure." There is a considered pause as he wondered with merriment, "What sort of party is it?"

"A Nameday party," Jurian answers, pleased with the acceptance. "And my arrival party as well. I'm thinking of adding a theme. Say, a white party, where all the guests dress in white. Although I think my cousin might look terrible in white. Although…I think I may not mind that," he says with a slow smile.

"That is brilliant, I love a good themed nameday." He is all a titter til Jurian says the bit about not caring if his cousin looked bad on her nameday. A polite smirk finds his features but he doesn't press instead finishing half of his brandy and leaving some coin behind for the food and such. "I should head to The Citadel before I dry off completely- only to get wet again." A cherry smiling sigh and he hops to his feet with a look at the doors. "I'll make sure to ask my Father too if he has recieved anything special from the East for the celebration. He's always finding insteresting things. See you soon, Prince Jurian."

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