(122-06-29) The Audition of Lord Clovis
The Audition of Lord Clovis
Summary: Loryn auditions Clovis at the Whimsy, with some noble onlookers; the opinions of artists get heated, as they're wont to do.
Date: 29/06/2015
Related: ?

Amphitheatre - Whimsy Theatre Beacon Boulevard

The Theatre of 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 is an area called the yard, where, for 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 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.

A performance in five parts. Lord Clovis Tyrell had just finished a spectacular performance that involved several different feats. It started with a dance, the controlled movements and overall grace of the young noble carried him across the stage with breathtaking ease. The repeated pacing of his soft soled boot across the stage hitting it with an unconscious rhythm that accompanied the lute music in time. The beat of his feet built the suspense as he the rope bridge appear behind from behind a once drawn curtain. The acrobatics on the rope, the song he sung while skirting through the air and yet it wasn't over yet…

Clovis stands now near the gently bowing center of the rope as a servant tosses him the first of the three golden balls. The rope sways but he catches the second and starts to juggle the two balls. "Now!" And a third if tossed into the mix. He walks to and fro on the rope while juggling the golden balls. "Is that quite enough for you cousin?" Clovis counters with amused, mildly haughty, good cheer.

Loryn has taken up residence in a comfy cushioned chair that looks like it might have served as a throne prop in some performance. He's at the side of the stage, from where he's been watching his cousin's performance. A few stagehands are lurking around to watch and a few people have somehow found their way into the gallery to watch. There's a round of applause from them when Clovis has finished, while Loryn tries to keep the neutral face of the director-manager. "That's rather impressive, coz.", he does admit with a little smile. "I'm sure we could work some tightrope stunts into our performance. Can you juggle with burning torches?", he wonders.

"I've never tried." Clovis does admit before tossing the juggling balls back to the man on the ground. He dismounts the rope by leaning over it at the waist and proceeding to hang down just far enough to let go and drop comfortably to the floor. "It does sound awful dangerous though… I'd hate to burn my face." He dusts his hands off once he is on the ground again.

"Oh yes, it is.", Loryn agrees earnestly, "I just saw someone do it once and found it very impressive. Yet… it's not a problem if you can't. I would hate for you to ruin your pretty face. Do you wish to sing a song for me as well?", he wonders, once Clovis has jumped down to the ground.

"If you would like," Clovis stands near the edge of the stage with his hands casually clasped where they often rested nearabouts his solar plexus. His feet remain in an idle but scripted version of Third Position. He looks on point, as it were, adding, "Maybe something from the play I've been working on with Maester Ronas?" His polite hesitation is fishing for something… Intrigue? Praise? He preens lightly as he fluffed his slightly sweaty hair off his forehead.

Loryn quirks a brow at that news. "You are working on a play already? You don't even know if I'm hiring you, coz!", he laughs, looking like he's clearly teasing. Gesturing grandly, which looks particularly pompous from the throne he's sitting in. "Please, do give me a first glimpse of the masterpiece you're penning!"

"You may have the grandest theater in Westeros but it certainly is not the -only- one, cousin." This is quipped not unkindly but with a sort of grandeur, a pomposity that can't be hidden. "We thought some of the songs, maybe all of them, should be written in High Valyrian. We have a certain vision for the play.." He doesn't tell much else but he sings a tale of Dragonfire, lost and won in words of poetry and praise. The song is clearly one written to honor the Targaryen rule. He bows at the end.

Loryn looks slightly aghast. "Songs in High Valyrian? And who exactly are you performing for, coz?", he wonders with a frown deepening between his eyes. "Nobody will want to listen to songs they don't understand. I'm not sure your vision will fly around here. Or sell tickets." He does seem impressed by the song then, even if its in High Valyrian he learnt enough of the bloody language to follow the lyrics. "Nice way to win Targaryen patronage.", he smirks, "So tell me what your play is about?"

"Only the songs will be in High Valyrian and not all of them. I believe the nobles will receive a certain amusement from being able to enjoy the show on a level beyond smallfolk kenning. And it is to favor the reign, the play will be political in nature but- and Ronas agrees- those cues should be subtle. Perhaps hidden in a love story? There is much to write still…" Clovis paces the precipice of the stage conversationally without seeming as if he thought to defend himself. Or his ideas.

Loryn heaves a sigh. "And you think the Whimsy can live from that?", he replies, "Who do you think is actually paying for tickets? The small folk, that's who. The nobles come chit-chattering to me at Garden Isle and quite expect to be given free tickets. And political cues? You will have at least one half of your noble audience mad at the other." He narrows his eyes. "How well have you thought this through, coz?"

Jurian wanders his way in, whether he's meant to be here or not. How like him. Either he spots Marsei in the gallery for himself, or he pretends to after having been informed that she is here. He makes his way up to join her, not seeking to disturb the rehearsal.

Indeed, one of the few fans of the arts happens to be a certain redheaded lady from the Hightower. As it is simply an audition — and as it is her nature — Marsei has been quiet as a mouse, watching curiously and with delight. Now, the conversation between Loryn and Clovis is not quite so well heard as a play or singing might be, nor is it as entertaining to watch … it seems important to the artful Tyrell cousins, however, so she stays in her seat for the time being so as not to interrupt them, easily found by Jurian. She's just about to turn to the other side, where her dark-haired handmaid sits as her lone companion for the outing, when she notices the prince at her other side and, looking surprised, smiles.

Lord Clovis rolls his eyes at Loryn, "I'm certain I'll write great many things for stage that never see the light of Whimsy." He hops off the edge of the stage with a certain grace and wanders out of sight in the direction of where wine might hidden. Clovis makes his way back into sight with a glass, he had been parched after the performance. "Or any stage for that matter. As you said cousin, I'm writing before I've been officially accepted." He takes a little sip and sneersmiles after, raising his glass at his cousin as he added, "Who's to say the play was meant for this stage."

Jurian smiles in return at Marsei, inclining his head with a slithg tilt so that he can see her the better. "My Lady Marsei," he greets softly. "I do not disturb you, I hope. I'm glad to see you too are a patron of the arts." He looks down onto the stage. "Is there some disagreement?"

Loryn's face is a mixture of amusement and annoyance, punctuated by a rather stagey eyeroll. "Oh for the love of the Seven, coz. Where else would you have your High Valyrian-masterpiece staged if not here in Oldtown which has at least -some- educated heads? Anyway, do you have a script written yet I can read? Or would you rather take it to other theatre-managers who are practically fighting over your award-winning masterpiece already?" Considering the facial expressions and grand gestures, it's probably a disagreement, the way only theatre folks can disagree and argue.

"Prince Jurian," Marsei greets in return, "no, it is of course lovely to see you. Especially at the Whimsy. I love the arts." She looks from him to the stage, tracking Clovis with the wine. "I can't say for certain," she says softly, somewhat demure; if she's noticed a disturbance — who couldn't, by now — she politely doesn't remark on it. "You missed the rehearsal of Lord Clovis. It was quite well done, I think. It was wonderful, with a dance and golden spheres."

"Do not drag The Seven into this- and as I said I am prepared to write a play that will never be performed." Clovis goes and leans against the stage but doesn't climb back up there… "You're worried after coins and bodies in seats… That is your burden as the owner. I'll work on my art and if it so pleases some stage managers… Maybe they'll find the time to suffer through the High Valyrian." He takes another sip of wine as he looks away.

"As do I," Jurian says. "The arts, and all things beautiful." He looks to the stage. "I'm sorry to have missed it," he comments calmly, without getting involved in the disagreement between kinsmen, though he watches. "Perhaps I will ask him to repeat it for me later." Without looking away from the stage, he comments, "Thank you for accompanying dear Uncle Dhraegon to my festivities. Your presence was appreciated."

Loryn throws his hands up, as if perhaps in defeat. "Well, considering you're a Tyrell, the role of 'penniless suffering artist' may not be the best one you'll play.", he grins. While Clovis is finding wine, his gaze drifts to the gallery where he notices that Marsei has got company. then he turns back to Clovis: "Why don't we ask our honoured guests, what they think? Always good to check with the audience and see what THEY want, no?"

Marsei looks to Jurian with mild surprise — intrigue, at least — when he mentions so casually that he may ask Clovis to re-perform the whole act for him. She's quick to smile over mention of Dhraegon, and over the festivities, sincere as can be, even when she does recall the Snapdragon game. "It was a beautiful celebration, and I enjoy attending with Prince Dhraegon," she tells Jurian, "I …" Midway, she notices that Loryn's attention has turned, somewhere along the way, from Clovis to the gallery and back again. Her shoulders shift ever-so-slightly before she carries on, "… hope Princess Xavia was pleased."

"I would have to undo many long standing dealings in Dorne and abroad to ever find myself penniless." Which, considering the subject matter of his play… "Even if I tried it would take a lifetime to squander what I have to my name. Breathe easy Loryn." Clovis turns to the peanut gallery as he just noticed them. "An inspired idea." Is agreed as concerns asking the audience.

"I believe she was, very much so," Jurian reports to Marsei. "And she is a very difficult girl to please. I like to accomplish difficult things." His eyes fall back on the Tyrell cousins. "In truth, I missed the performance. What am I being asked, precisely?"

"That's what I was SAYING, coz!", Loryn points out and gestures. "Bring me a cup too. And two more for our guests who'll be joining us.", he instructs Clovis, even if that means sending his cousin off-stage for now to find enough clean cups and a FULL bottle of wine somewhere. Then he moves to the front of the stage to call out to Jurian and Marsei. "Lady Marsei, Prince Jurian, would you do us the honour of joining us here and answer a question or two?"

"Ah…" Marsei is slow to rise, although she smiles to Loryn from afar all the while. The mere act of standing places attention on her, as if the gallery is now the stage, and she lowers her head under this belief. "I suppose we will find out shortly," she says lightly to Jurian. She gives her handmaid companion a pat on the hand as she leaves her there — this one not being as enthusiastic toward the arts — and makes her way down toward the stage.

Jurian stands, too, though he's a bit slow about it. Of course, that could be due to his slightly lame foot. He heads down to meet Loryn, wearing a vague smile. "I think we are both at the service of the arts."

"Thank you.", Loryn greets them, "Clovis will be offering you a cup of wine in a minute." As if they should receive a reward for coming onto the stage. "Please, have a seat -" He points at a fine white bench, the back covered in carvings of aquatic creatures, glittering blue and silver. "I assume you are both fluent in High Valyrian?"

Clovis comes back out a short time later with a bottle by the neck and a platter rested atop his other hand. The merit of Perfect Balance making the feat of carrying a service tray all but second nature- even for a noble as himself. He brings it nearby and pours wine for their guests, offering them at the same time via the tray before setting it down on the edge of the stage. It may be worth noting the bright spirited naive artist was too innocent to understand the political implications; Ronas on the other hand…

«A language of beauty.» Quips Clovis in the tongue.

At first, Marsei — although her poise is immaculate as she stands on stage — has the air of a child uncertainly called to recite verses in front of their septa, but her manners overcome. She smiles politely at Loryn, eager to help. "Ah…" she murmurs softly again, distracted by Clovis before she may answer. She takes the wine, sure to use his title as she's rather oddly served by him, "Thank you, Lord Clovis." Wine in hand, she sits upon the lovely little bench. "It is a beautiful language," she concurs with Clovis — uknowingly, as it turns out. "I'm afraid I only know… a few words… common phrases," she admits, looking down into her cup.

"Why, yes," Jurian answers Loryn, helping himself to a seat on the bench. He accepts a cup of wine, glancing between the two Tyrells. "I do speak it. But I don't think /everyone/ is forced to learn."

Lord Clovis was raised to understand his station but he had spent many years as a Ward of House Martell. He didn't mind offering wine or being slightly servile to those he called friends. After all those years in someone else's home he knew the power of humility in manners. "I will admit perhaps the intention is to keep some facts of the story vague. I hesitate to reveal who I've based my tale around because unless he- well, unless I speak to him in person and get his blessing it may be a tale told too soon." A coy grin as he danced around the intended subject matter. "Never met the man. Just heard his story back in Dorne."

Loryn looks rather pleased by Marsei's response and thouguh he acknowledges Jurian's reply with a nod, he focuses on Marsei for now. "So… how would you feel about a play in which the songs are performed in High Valyrian? Would you be bored by songs you cannot understand or enjoy the artistic challenge, Mylady?" He, too, accepts a cup of wine from his cousin, then widens his eyes when Clovis admits that the play is based on a real person. "Seven save us.", he mutters, "What if he or some irate family members burn down the Whimsy if they dislike your little portrayal?"

Marsei listens curiosly to Clovis, a keen sort of wonder in her eyes as she sips delicately from her wine cup. She's quiet for a moment as she considers Loryn's question, easily getting the impression that she and Jurian are in the middle of the dispute between the kinsmen. She glances at the prince briefly before looking up to Loryn. "Well…" she begins carefully, "…I think High Valyrian songs are beautiful, and the experience would be enriching. But perhaps a mixture of Valyrian and common would also be lovely, to ensure the story is followed by every ear."

Jurian drinks from his cup, perfectly calm about and mildly interested in all this conversing that is going on in front of him. "One could, of course, have an actor speak the lines in common as a singer sings them in High Valyrian," he comments, as if to no one.

Clovis just shrugs at Loryn, "Such is the way of Dragons?" He ventures, meaning of course his likely Targaryen subject matter. There is a cheery facade to his banter and he clearly decides to not entertain any of the panic in Loryn's misgivings. Clovis turns his kindly grin on Marsei at her words. When Jurian speaks he looks to him as well, "Precisely." And with animated ease continues, "My intention all along, I was thinking a few of the more prestigious roles sing in high speech but speak common during the acted parts. It will set them apart, give an aire of mystery to the unknowing and a sense of kinship to those who follow the poetry."

I'm still not convinced.", Loryn grumps, "But I suppose we'll have to see the full play first and the number and length of songs peformed in High Valyrian and… well, everything, really. He's writing a play.", he explains for Jurian's and Marsei's sake, just in case they have missed that very pertinent point.

"I believe anything well-acted and well-sung will be remarkable," Marsei says, seeking to appease them both, but expressing a genuine belief in her words, as well. She smiles from Loryn to Clovis. "It sounds mysterious!"

"Mm," Jurian agrees vaguely. "Sometimes the speech of ordinary smallfolk sounds like the language of birds to me, so who can say what they will and will not understand?"

Clovis waves off handedly, "It is far, far from finished just a few songs and a glimmer in my eye, yet.. It will take a few weeks at least.. Perhaps a month or two…" The noble finishes his glass of wine and sets it on the serving tray. "And I have a Knight to meet, to bless this-" Clovis looks curtly at Loryn and fall just shy of air quotes as he inflected, "abomination, sees the stage." There is a good natured laugh to follow though as he turns to say farewell to the others. "Excuse me, Prince Jurian and Lady Marsei… I'm on my way out, if either of you want join me for the walk to the Citadel." He ventures openly making his exit. "Have a play to finish."

"We'll be happy to hear more of your play's songs soon.", Loryn offers to Clovis in a reconcilliatory tone, though it's not clear if he's using the royal we or including their present guests. Probably the latter considering he's smiling at Jurian and Marsei. "Thank you for your opinion - Your Highness. Mylady. It will all certainly be an exciting development." He bows, apparently ready to have them all depart.

After a small pause — watching Jurian — Marsei says to Clovis, "I musn't abandon Siva." She glances to the gallery, where her handmaid sits, by way of apology. She sets her cup aside. "Your performance was a wonder, Lord Clovis. I wish you the best of luck!" She rises and nods to Loryn, following his cue to depart. "I hope we could be of some help to you, Ser Loryn."

"Oh yes," Jurian says. "I do want to see things develop. And offer my support, where appropriate." Whatever that means.

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