(123-02-24) Auditions at the Whimsy
Auditions at the Whimsy.
Summary: Loryn has a few surprising artists audition for the theatre.
Date: 24/02/2016D
Related: None

It's late morning. The Whimsy is already bustling as foreign troupes have poured into Oldtown to perform during the dolphin festival and a group from Pentos is presently rehearsing on the main stage, while a minstrel is honing his act in a corner. Stage hands and seamstresses are running about, but the maestro is nowhere to be seen. Should someone inquire after him, they'd be pointed towards the "office", up two flights of narrow stairs in the backstage area.

Saera is likely to inquire often around this place for the maestro, though most days she's met with tentative shrugs or uncertain responses. Today she lucks out: Loryn is in. With a harp-shaped satchel slung over her shoulder, she's quick to ascend the stairs to the Lord's office. Perhaps too quick, as by the time she's at the apex she's almost winded, more from her excitement than the actual trek. After a quick adjustment of her clothes and hair, she cocks her hip to one side and waits for the owner to make himself known. Today she wears her typical gray dress, but her hair had been tied off with a bit of sea green ribbon embroidered with a silver Sea Horse.

Ser Loryn is not known for great formality or stickling for the rules. Which means, he's lounging in his chair behind the desk, silk-stockinged feet on the desk, reading a scroll with a frown that means he's either myopic or annoyed. He's clothed in a white crumpled shirt that might have been slept in, grey breeches and said silk stockings. When he notices someone by the door, he turns his head and eyes the stranger with a curious look. "What?"

That blank greeting from the Lord is returned with budding cheer by the silver-and-sunset haired woman. Her hand is raised, slim fingers aflutter in their wave, as she takes a few steps into his office. A curtsey to greet a proper Lord, and then she's upright again. "You must be Lord Loryn. Saera Waters," she says, laying her hand against her breastbone. "A pleasure. I've been looking to join the performers here at the Whimsy for some time now and was told you're the man I have to impress." She reaches up to thumb the strap of her satchel, ready to loose it and produce the instrument inside at a moment's notice.

This surprises Loryn and he actually removes his feet from the desk to sit somewhat upright. "You're a local girl, Miss Waters?", he asks curiously, "You wish to join the Whimsy's troupe permanently?" He eyes her fiddling with the satchel, "In what function?"

Saera takes a few steps into the room and rests her hip against the Lord's desk, half settled on it, though not so far as to actually perch before him. "From King's Landing by way of the Riverlands and a spot of misfortune, but that's a long story." She unshoulders her satchel and rests it before the man, thumb flipping open the top to show the dark black, brown and grey wood harp shaped like a Sea Horse within. "As a mummer and minstrel of course. What else?" Her legs cross at the ankle as she trails her fingers across the top of the harp.

"Well, we have dancers too and acrobats.", Loryn points out, "Though yes, mostly mummers who can sing a little. If you wish to showcase your talent as a solo minstrel, you can always use the small stage in the forecourt when it's free. I'm afraid it's quite booked solid throughout the festival though. Do you have any previous acting experience?", he then wants to know.

"Ah! Of course. I can do a bit of acrobatics, though I'm not much of a dancer. I worked with a Riverlands troupe called Muse Adrift, named after the small vessel we used to travel up and down the Trident. We did the Crownlands too, and the occasional foray into the Westerlands from the end of the Red Fork." Slim digits drum against the top of the harp as she watches the Lord's face for a reaction. "Harping, singing, acting, acrobatics. I've even picked up a few mummer's tricks to change the appearance with cosmetic powders to the face."

"Well, that sounds good to me.", Loryn replies, thinking about things already, "You can start by understudying some parts of our current shows and I'll see if I can write a part of you in the next show. I tend to write our plays so that they match my current set of performers. Which changes all the time, depending on who can be bothered or is still alive." His eyes travel from her face to the harp, "Care to give me a sample of your talents?"

"Lovely. My only request is that you let me keep my hair. It takes to dye easily so there's not too much need for wigs," Saera says, fluffing her locks. The fingers grazing along the harp pluck the insturment free from the satchel. She takes a few moments plucking the strings with deft fingers, then moves into a smooth, chiming melody bright and wistful all at once. After an improves introduction, she moves into an upbeat rendition of Bear and the Maiden Fair, then follows that without too much effort into a sultry Dornish-sounding number, though she only manages a few bars of that before winding her impromptu performance down. Silvery brows lift toward the man as her fingers lay flat against the strings, silencing them.

"Why would I ask you to remove your hair?", Loryn wonders, a little confused. He settles in more comfortably into his chair, listening to her performance. HE seems rather pleased by what he hears. "Can you do a monologue, too?", he then asks curiously, "Without music…"

"Ah. Some performers are asked to shave their heads so the wigs will fit neater." Saera clicks her tongue once, then tilts her chin up to stare at the ceiling. After a pause she looks back down toward Loryn and reaches out toward him, her violet eyes shining with affection. She adopts the demeanor of a brusque knight, her delicate shoulders squaring as her voice drops an octave. Though she can't make herself -sound- make, she gets the mannerisms and speech patterns down well enough. "My Lady," she begins, indicating you with her outstretched hand. "I've sailed from Asshai to Oldtown, battled harpies, tigers, snakes, and krakens, stolen the gold from a maiden's hair and had it stolen again by a bronze giant. All this, for you — in the name of your House. And this is how you greet me when I return?" Imperious, now, she stands upright, looking down on your seated form beneath her. It's a rather dramatic display and from a male actor would be quite persuasive. She certainly has the talent — though given the gender reversal and her clearly feminine features, her performance trends toward Comedy.
And just like that she has her hand on her hip again, fingers drumming, her normal mannerisms and inflection returning. "So?"

Loryn seems a little amused that she chose a male speech to present, but not altogether unpleased. "It's quite impressive, Ma'am. And don't worry, I don't care much about anyone's hair as long as it doesn't get into the way of a good performance." He pauses for a moment, thinking. "Well, as you know, right now things are very busy with the festival and it's mayhem here. Once the festival is over, I'll be happy to incorporate you into my next show. In the meantime, perhaps you'd be interested in showcasing your talent at one of my musical soirees at Garden Isle?", he wonders.

"How delightful! I've been earning some fair coin by impromptu performances around the city during the festival, so I'm in no hurry to see it end, though I'm looking forward to meeting the other performers and becoming a proper part of the troupe. But private performances on Garden Isle? It would be my pleasure, my Lord. How could any aspiring performer turn down an opportunity like that?" Saera flashes Loryn a smile — mischievous, but oh so sweet — and then gives another little curtsey to him, as if to indicate that the performance is over. Her harp is nestled back into her satchel, which is fastened and slung over a shoulder. "Is there anything you'd ask of me? Anything I ought to know?"

Loryn considers this for a moment, then shrugs. "Honestly… I've found that people will only reveal their true selves once they are part of the troupe. So if the talent's there, I'm prepared to give anyone a chance… then see if they're punctual, diligent and disciplined, get along with the other performers and not stir up a mountain of trouble. So prove to me that you're worthy and you'll find yourself with the chance of a permanent position and a good choice of roles at the best theatre in town.". The warm smile softening the slightly pompous speech a little. "Is there anything -you- would like to know?"

Saera regards Loryn for a moment, lips pursing. "Mummers make a living of hiding their true selves, so it's to be expected. But I've found that true for most — especially the owners. They always have some quirk that gets them into this line of business. Either they're handsy with the girls, or they're hands with the boys, or they have a fixation — with Targaryens, or foreigners, or… fish." Despite all she says, only that last one is said with actual, sincere contempt, and she crinkles her nose with distaste. Whatever triggered that statement is not elaborated on. "So what I would like to know is what yours is. What madness inspired you to get into this line of work? But I'm sure that will be revealed in time, so it seems we're at an impasse until we get to know one another better. Other than that… Any songs you'd like me to play, should you ever invite me out to Garden Isle? It couldn't hurt to get a head start learning any I don't know."

Loryn looks amused by her statement. "I'm afraid it's nothing as exotic as that. I've just always enjoyed the performing arts. This theatre was my cousin's actually… He's certainly a bit of a handful.", he grins in memory, "But he was recalled to Highgarden when his brother died and he found himself heir to the Reach. He left the theatre in my hands. I was just at the right place at the right time." He shrugs at that, a little helplessly, and seems glad to move on to a topic. "Generally my soirees tend to have a theme… A northern evening, a Dornish evening, and so on… so if you could put together a selection from somewhere that suits you best?", he suggests.

"Ahhhh. That explains a lot. You know, your normality makes you rather unique among theater owners. Most are eccentric and a little… touched by the Crone." Saera relaxes and leans away from the man's desk, righting her posture once more. "And that sounds simple enough. Any good musician knows a handful from all over, and I picked up a good many more in the Riverlands and Crownlands. They're the crossroads to the Seven Kingdoms, surpassed only by Oldtown herself. It'll be fun to learn the local songs too, but I can't imagine there's a song worth singing that hasn't been sung here."

Loryn chuckles softly at that. "Well, thank you for calling me normal.", he says with a grin, "And that sounds like a good idea… maybe we'll make "Crossroads" the theme for the evening…", he muses, "Could bring plenty to bear…" Loryn is behind his desk in simple clothing, Saera standing nearby with her harp.

The door opens and Melysa walks in, spotting Saera speaking with Loryn the young woman dips a small curtsey and hangs back, clearly not wanting to intrude on the conversation.

Whoever is singing noisily downstairs and making his stomping way up the stairs, however, doesn't seem to care. Clomp-Clomp goes the stumbling steps as Nechtan hoves into view. The oversized wildling is obviously tipsy, but doing a fair job holding the tune (which is about the possible uses of a velvet purse and largely unprintable).

"Ah! Melysa," Saera says, violet eyes brightening when she sees the Lyseni woman. "Did you ever happen to meet up with the Whimsy's talor? I was going to ask for you, but I wasn't sure if you had settled that or not." Her hand rests on the curve of her hip while the other, keeping her harp tucked under her arm, idly strums at the strings to elicit the occasional chime of a single, sweet chord. Those refined background notes a stark contrast to the stomping of Wildling feets as they ascend and near, as well as the bellowed song about velvet purses. Biting her bottom lip to stifle a grin — and likely a snarky comment — she looks from the whore to the wildling and back again. For once, Saera decides to keep her mouth shut, and instead looks to Loryn for any inkling of how he plans to handle the turn.

Loryn opens his mouth to offer Melysa a friendly greeting when the singing wildling stomps in and his eyes widen. "Sevens, I wasn't aware that today was such a good day for auditions. Do come in, Miss Melysa, how's your fishtail doing?" He then eyes the wildling curiously and with exquisite politeness asks "Can I help you, my friend? Are you auditioning for the festival or the Whimsy's troupe?"

"I've got the fishtail made, thank you both." Melysa frowns slightly at Nechtan's song, supressing the smile it would normally draw from her. "Nut you know how such things are, I could not exactly walk here in it to show it off." She stands to the side to better allow Nechtan to make his entrance.

Loryn opens his mouth to offer Melysa a friendly greeting when the singing wildling stomps in and his eyes widen. "Sevens, I wasn't aware that today was such a good day for auditions. Do come in, Miss Melysa, how's your fishtail doing?" He then eyes the wildling curiously and with exquisite politeness asks "Can I help you, my friend? Are you auditioning for the festival or the Whimsy's troupe?"

The wildling may well still be singing of the fashion choices of the elite, but its pretty graphic and partially in trade tongue so its anyones guess. Metaphors abound. Nechtan sloshes something from a wineskin into his mouth (managing to get most of it actually in his mouth) and rubs his hand down the dirty linen shirt he is wearing. He blinks repeatedly, glancing about the assembled people before opening his mouth… and closing it to stifle a belch. Then, at length, the great lug says, "Aye, I was told you pay well for songs. I am a -hic- singer-man."

"I think I've found the first song I want to learn," Saera muses aside to Loryn, violet eyes shifting between the two men in quick successon. She raises her hand to greet the wildling stranger with a flutter of delicate fingers, seemingly unconcerned about his rather uncouth appearance. Saving her introductions for a later date — would he even remember this in the morning? — she instead sweeps her hair over a shoulder and combs it with her fingertips.

Loryn looks a little surprised, but not terribly shaken. "Yes, I pay well for songs being beautifully presented… usually by sober people.", he adds dryly, "Would you perhaps treat me and the two ladies here to a little presentation of your talents? Sing us a few songs?" He leans closer to Saera: "Perhaps you could even duet?"

Melysa's eyes twinkle. "I'll wager he's looking for a duet that you can't present to a polite crowd. But as he is I'm sure it would be a unique, memorable performance. Certainly you could expect to be the subject of much discussion, most likely if you've taken leave of your senses if you put him on stage." She stays back out of the way, this might be entertaining.

The Wildling's eyes follow the waved fingers.. and then the flash of hair leaves him slackjawed for a moment. He stares at the woman for several seconds too long before he looks back at the man.
"I.. You want me to sing somethin'?" Nechtan asks, as if this is a surprise, "I am a skald and know many songs." he says, somewhat less than reassuringly. "Songs of battle and bloodshed and the sowing of seeds! What would you want to be hearing?" he asks Loryn, wracking his boozy brain for pieces. As he does so, he glances at Melysa and grins, "You got loose!"

Saera watches the Wildling, drinking in his reaction with a small, crooked smile. "A duet with a skald? Now that sounds delightful. I've heard tales of the singers from the far north, but this is the first htat I've met one in person. What is your name, dear Skald? They call me Sweet Saera Waters." Those fingers still comb through her hair while the others dance, absent, across the strings of her harp. The delicate chiming is a stark contrast to the big man's bawdy bellowed song.

"The Whimsy caters for all sorts… definitely not just for polite crowds.", Loryn tells Melysa with a wink, "I could definitely see a nice live version of the Bear and the Maiden Fair right here…", he grins, eyes wandering between Nechtan and Saera, before fixing on the big Wildling. "It's true, I've rarely ever heard songs from beyond the Wall. Please do present us with some insights into your bardic traditions in the far north?", he suggests hopefully.

Melysa's face doesn't conceal her amusement anymore. "Well I suppose if you offer him a tankard of mead he might sing better. I'm certain he could amuse an impolite crowd as much as any, though Saera's sweet music and his traditional songs might not quite suit each other. Unless you do know any gentler songs that is." She looks over to Nechtan, not expecting the man to know any.

"I am Nechtan, the son of Brude the bloody and Gruoch Ironhide," Nechtan replies, with a slack grin to Saera, "Your by name is well-given, for youare as the honey maiden of the bees." he adds, apparently well spoken when in his cups, who'd have thought?
Dragging his attention back to the other man, Nechtan nods slowly, searches his brain for something appropriate and then grins again. He clears his throat and warbles for half a moment before turning the warble into something that is by turns melodic and swooping grace interspersed with militaristic vocal drumbeats. The lyrics,such as they are, are in the Old Tongue and largely incomphrensible. The swooping parts are soft and gentle though.

That compliment toward her draws a smile to her cheeks and a faint color that mirrors the rose in her hair. Her head tilts to take in his song, eyes closing as if it might help her hear better. When it ends she beams from ear to ear. "My voice is sweet but I can sing a bawdy tune as well as our bear Skald can sing gently," Saera says, offering her reply to Melysa and praise of Nechtan all in one. "It would be a pleasure to sing a duet with you, Nechtan, son of Brude. I'm sure there's something we can learn from each other."

Loryn's face changes from bemusement to actual delight when the man's warbling turns into a decent song and he realizes that the wildling can carry a tune and has a fairly decent voice to boot. "You know…", he muses, "I was looking for a leading man in my latest play… with a voice just like yours… We should discuss this in private some time…" He looks up again and between Nechtan and Saera, "So, how about a duet for us?"

Melysa frowns, crossing her arms. "I fear I've nothing I can add to this performance, though when you're putting together entertainment for a less cultured audience I'm sure I could show them a thing or two. I should have got into my stockings and tunic to show off a little contortion. I'd take up acting myself, but I'm fairly sure I know what men want to see of me on stage."

Bringing his voice back down to his usual grunt, Nechtan grins at Saera and nods, "I'd like that, hearing your voice reach high whilst I go low." he says. To Loryn, "That is fine,I have been a leading man in many a play," he smiles, then frowns for a moment, "Is it a play as in, like, a mummery, or a play as in "I need you to kill this person so I can take his women"? I'm not sure why the second needs a singer, though."
As Melysa speaks,the wilding nods, "I can speak to her contortions, she can bend her ankles well past her ears."

"Then we'll have to practice a song or two together. Your singing voice has this lovely, gutteral grunting quality that I'd be delighted to hear again. Though maybe it's just the tongue you sang in? You'll have to let me get more acquainted with it, either way." Saera departs her spot at the far wall to stand beside Nechtan, her scant height making her seem positively tiny next to the bulk of towering man. "A duet for the Lord? What southern songs do you know? Or we could harmonize and see how well our voices intertwine."

"Perhaps you could all take part in the next soiree.", Loryn muses, "Some acrobatics to accompany their duets… I think it could be very classy and stylish if you three would like to work something out." He considers Nechtan and answers in a rather firm voice: "It is a mummery. A story of love, faith and redemption with the hero undergoing a remarkable journey."

Melysa's lips compress. "A tawdry tale of lust and depravity I'd be happy to be involved in. The other doesn't sound like my thing at all. If you've acrobat type costumes available I'd happily demonstrate my skills."

"I..I know a few southron songs," Nechtan says, drunkenly distracted by the hair beside him as much as the fact its owner is going on about tongues and his mind is a wandering. He lists off a selection of the most bawdy and graphic sailor's songs, a brace of ditties about camp followers and how they make their money and finally a couple of nursery songs and lullabys. Quite a range, though nothing hugely fancy.
"Ah, I like those, is there bloodshed?" he asks Loryn, "Does he return to his homestead and drive forth the usurper king and take his woman to his furs?" with the implication that if he does not, he damn well should, even if Nechtan misunderstands the word redemption.
"I like the whores' play!"

"Ah! I know that one." Saera chimes in after, of course, one of the bawdy sailor's songs. Another about camp followers draws a nod from her, a delicate finger raised to signal her understanding. However, the nursery and lullaby songs are all but unknown to her. "The first?" She plucks a few notes on her harp to set the key, and then begins to lead, humming the first bars before singing the first line in time. Violet eyes lift to set on Nechtan's own, imploring him to join her in their duet, lest her voice be left naked and exposed.

"I'm afraid I leave tawdry tales of lust to the late-night programming of the Whimsy.", Loryn tells Melysa, "The soirees at Garden Isle are attended by nobles from all over Oldtown for some refined entertainment, to enjoy singers from all over the seven kingdoms and beyond and give those a chance to present themselves and perhaps even find patronage.", he explains, then turns to Nechtan with a slight frown. "There will be bloodshed, but… not in that way. I shall explain the tale to you some time. For now… " He nods towards Saera who's beginning to get ready, expecting Nechtan to join in.

"Do you arrange the late-night programming for the Whimsy, or do others manage that aspect?" Melysa smirks. "Because if you've a need for it I cna provide a most explicit visual display of such things, or more likely whoever arranges such things." She moves closer to Loryn so she can speak to the man without trying to talk over the two singers.

It takes the wildling a few moments of staring into those eyes before he remembers he has to sing and oh, yeah, about mermaids! He makes a fair stab at it, the baritone growl rumbling forth with that minor warble again before he gets it into line. There, it dances around the woman's voice, being a strong base and matching her note for note. He doesn't even register disappointment at the lack of barbarian bloodshed, throwing himself deep into the song and losing himself in it sometime around the mermaid showing the sailor her clutch of eggs. Mermaids! Purple eyed mermaids! Forever luring sailors to their deaths!

Saera's feminine lilting voice waltzes delicate with Nechtan's strong masculine tone. Though she began with the lead, she passes it over to the Wildling after the first stanza, allowing him to showcase his talent while she plays off his voice. The two work together well, despite or perhaps because of their differences, and the sunset-and-silver haired bastard is all smiles. Happy to play the part of the Siren luring the sailor to his doom (or bliss?), she sways into Nechtan's side to lend him a playful bump just as the song winds down the second stanza: Her last notes are one of victory over the sailor, though perhaps in the third he turns it around before meeting a soggy doom?

"Oh, there isn't much to arrange.", Loryn grins at Melyse, "People go on stage and if they're chased off with rotten fruit, not welcome again. If they please the audience, they are invited back. So… after the festival, just find yourself a spot in the late-nite variety and … try your best. It gets rowdy though."
HE falls silent, quite taken in by the performance that is developing in front of him and he actually claps in delight. "Oh, we MUST get you two on stage together!", he exclaims, "A really fascinating mix of cultures and voices…. quite in theme with the Crossroads theme I envisioned for the soiree!"

Melysa applauds at the performance, frowning a little, wondering if Nechtan was perhaps adlibbing the bit about purple eyes. After the song is ended she flashes her dimples to Loryn. "I rather expect to be swarmed on the stage rather than driven off with fruit. Perhaps I should take up singing or acting to put on as good a show as these two just did. Contortion is not quite so refined an art I guess."

Theres worse ways to go, that seems to be the point of the song. At least until the final stanza, which involves a whole stream of vocal gymnastics that require Nechtan slipping his arm around the woman's shoulders as he affects a simply hilarious falsetto. The Sailor's wife arriving to rescue her husband! Who only half-wants to be saved, oh my. Things happen and all three end up in bed somehow (!) and theres a pun about sending the children off to a school and they all live wetly ever after. Nechtan, for his part, nearly falls apart laughing, but manages to soldier through the last stanza.

Saera giggles when that bulky wildling switches to the higher falsetto, and attempts to match with a forced-deep voice for references to the sailor. Her head comes to rest against his arm when her slender shoulders are embraced, and her own slender arm snakes around his back, resting at the base of his spine. A sultry, playful croon slips into the more suggestive parts of the song and she waggles her silvery brows to the 'audience.' She gives a few encouraging pats when the song ends, her cheek red and lips drawn back in a bright smile. "Beautiful. I hope we can sing often together. Old Valyria meets…" Pausing, then, she studies Nechtan to suss out just how far north he's from.

"Acrobatics and dancing goes down well with the late-night crowds.", Loryn reassures Melysa with a smile, "Singing can't just be taken up… look at him… a wild man of the north, and yet a natural…" Loryn eyes up Nechtan quite happily, even when he starts cracking up during the last part of the song. "Well, you two rehearse together and we'll set up a date for the musical soiree as soon as the festival is over.", he says firmly.

Melysa smiles. "Well now, if they like to see simple acrobatics…" She lifts a leg, standing on her toes on her other foot, her right foot pointed to the ceiling, her bare leg poking through a slit in her dress. "Then I expect they will enjoy this more. I'd try some of the more dramatic moves, but not in this dress."

"The Wall." says the wilding, with a finality at odds with the otherwise jovial mood, but then hes grinning again, holding the girl against him and managing to laugh, "If your man there keeps the coin flowing, I am happy to sing at you all summer long." he offers.
Nechtan nods to Loryn "I was taught the history-stories on my grandmothers knee," he says, "That is how I learned to sing true." Then, well, then the wildling's eye locks on bare leg and hes staring again, still holding the other girl to his side.

Saera nods to the Wildling's statement, and gives another pat at the base of his spine. She leans into his side, accepting the embrace of that arm about her form, violet eyes drifting the other three as they chatter. They pause to take in the Lyseni woman's contortion, that impressive stretch of a leg toward the ceiling, and she purses her lips in thought. "I'll need to work on my stretches too…" It's more to herself than anyone else. "My Lord, this theater piece you've spoken of — do you have a role for me in it? I don't see why I can't take on a non-speaking piece while acting as an understudy."

"Oh, that's quite impressive.", Loryn comments, eyeing the low ceiling of the office a bit nervously when Melysa lifts her leg high up. "I'm sure you'll be able to wow them at the variety." His eyes drift towards Nechtan who can't seem to decide which girl to ogle more, but leaves him to it, focusing on Saera instead. "Of course a part can be found for you, even if it's small. I'm still working on the story and assembling the cast… it's a bit on hold with the festival going on just now…"

Melysa lowers her leg to the floor once more, then drops into the splits, both pale legs out of her dress now, toes pointed outwards. "Really you should put her in a pretty dress that shows her form well, that alone would bring people into the theater. Though unless people are very close they won't be able to see her eyes, which is a shame."

It takes far too long for Nechtan to drag his eyes away from the display. Spoiled for choice! The big lug is in his element, "Pretty dresses for all the girls, men will come to watch them sing and their breasts heave. Women will come to watch the men in the tight trews."

"Of course. There are quite a few happenings in the coming weeks, but I'm looking forward to working with you. If nothing else there's always a duet with Nechtan, Son of Brude on Garden Island." Those slim, delicate fingers resting at the man's lower back give a playful nudge and flutter, as if trying to tickle him through his linens. "But you and I really should talk about exchanging songs, and picking up that tongue of yours. Do you give lessons?"

"I don't think they're particularly concerned with eyes.", Loryn replies, watching Melysa do her thing. He looks rather pleased though that Nechtan and Saera are already working on a performance together. "Well, all of this is really pleasing to me. We should drink to this!", he decides and gets out four wine cups and a jug from which he pours. Not his best vintage, but decent stuff all the same.

Melysa rises, graciously taking a wine cup. "Ser Loryn, back in Lys some of the acrobats had a sparkly cloth they would use for their clothing, I'm not sure how it was made. would the Theater's tailors have such a cloth, and if so, what is it called?" She stops teasing Nechtan for now, time enough for that later."

The wildling nods, "Sweet-tongue, I would teach you all the ways of my people," Nechtan says, chuckling, "We should meet of a night and I will do just that." he offers, his great paw of a hand falling to the woman's hip. Then, his attention is drawn by winecups and he catches himself wondering if this is the afterlife, fine women and free flowing drink.
Bordering on overstimulation, this!

Audra wraps lightly on the door from the hallway- it SOUNDS like she's using her foot as the noise is muffled. "Ser Loryn? I was told that you're in?" The baker's warm voice calls out in amusement. "I have samples for you to try!"

Saera tucks her harp away and shoulders it so that she can properly nestle into the great big bear's side. His hand on her hip is met with an upward glance of violet eyes, before her own comes to squeeze atop his for just a heartbeat. "Lovely. Where are you staying? I'll bring my harp and we'll see if you can pluck a string as well as you can hit a note. Just don't break it, mm? They're delicate." She stands inside the room, all but tucked into the Wildling's side while his bearish arm drapes about her. Loryn sits at his desk, fishing out some drinks for the lot of them, and Melysa stands between the trio showing off her flexibility while doing the splits.

Loryn distributes the wine cups to his guests but before he can toast, there's a knock on the door and Audra announces samples. "Oh, what perfect timing!", he exclaims, "Do come in, Miss Audra, there's wine to be had with your samples!" The small office is slowly getting crowded and Loryn tries to unobtrusively step to the window to open it and let in some fresh air.

There must had been a missive sent out or something as Lady Lillian and her brother arrive shortly after Audra, she has a bunch of new costumes that are carried in a trunk behind her "I brought your new set, and clothes.. for whatever." says the Hightower Lady.

Nechtan's paw squeezes Saera's hip, "I am..between patrons," he admits, smiling, "so I mostly living in the woods. My tent is fine though, warm and full of furs." As if realising he might not be selling this particularly well, "It will be dry enough that I may gently strum with you, though I am ever happier pounding away," he says, subtle like a fox, "on a drum."
His other mitt now clutching wine, he raises it for the toast and says something in the old tongue…and then locks his eyes onto the baker's goods. Perhaps he did die in that shield wall.

Melysa moves closer to the window, the young woman looking a little nervous in the rapidly-busying room, likely she doesn't handle crowds well when most everyone is towering over her. And such people, she looks over to Lady Lillian, licking her lips. She can't help hearing Nechtan's booming voice trying for subtlety.

"I still don't know why you needed me to come with you," Brynden offers to Lillian as they enter, pausing as he sees the people present, his gaze on a few of the females present already, but after a few seconds of pause, he looks around, offering a smile to the gathered people. "Hello."

Audra holds the door open for Lillian and the trunk before she eyes the party. "Gods above, wasn't expecting a tasting party… You'll have to share I suppose." She gives Melysa a nod of familiarity before giving a warm and winning smile to the rest. "Audra Baker, an' it please you. My husband Terris and I own the finest bakery in the Shambles and half of Old Town. Ser Loryn is going to be trying our wares here…" She lays out offerings on the table - sausages and onions on a trencher-roll and a trio of savory pies; onion and carrot in gravy, mincemeat, and a beef and mushroom. Next to this, on a fancy pewter platter, she sets out several finger-pies - onion and cheese, spinach and mushroom, and a bacon and chedder — along with cherry and strawberry tarts, lemon and raspberry bars, and a few sweet almond cookies. A practical feast all freshly baked.

Loryn's face flushes a little when Lady Lillian arrives - with her brother in tow to boot. The small office is now practically groaning at its seams. "Lady Lillian, lovely to see you and thank you! We have been eagerly awaiting your costumes for the festival presentations…" He resists the urge to rifle through the box Brynden is carrying in, "Please have a cup of wine and some food. Miss Audra and her husband will be supplying the Whimsy with a selection of savoury pies and sweet pastries during the festival for hungry patrons." He pours more wine and hands cups to Audra, Lillian and Brynden as well, then quickly picks up one of the onion and cheese-finger pies.
Overhearing Nechtan's none-too-subtle approach, he turns to the big man and points his chin towards the far end of the room: "You know, there's a bed right there if you can't wait…"

Saera plucks up a glass between delicate fingers and flashes Loryn a thankful smile, no matter how middling the vintage may be. Just before she's about to raise her glass in toast, Audra, Lord Brynden, and Lady Lillian arrive bearing treats and costumes. "Your timing is impeccible," she insists to the new arrivals, teeth catching her lower lip to stifle a grin. "We were just about to celebrate a lovely duet and the future of the Whimsy." Her violet eyes peel from the Wildling at her side to rake over the food, first, then the guests second, lingering on their faces as if to commit them to memory. "Saera Waters. A pleasure to meet you."

Melysa's lips twitch at Loryn's quip, she hopes Nechtan recognizes it for the joke that it is. Hearing the Lady Lillian introduced she dips into a deep curtsey. "If any more nobles arrive I might have to start behaving myself." The young woman places her own wine glass down and looks about for fresh glasses so that she might bring the newcomers drinks.

Lillian eyes her brother and she laughs "because you had nothing better to do then taste cookies, and carry my costumes." she smiles to him before she looks over those attending, "Oh don't feel the need to behave on our behalf we are no party crashers." she smiles then to Mely

"That bed is hardly large enough for us all," says the wildling, having seemed to consider it, "Even with some folded in half, like, we are too many and would end up on the floor. Do not worry, though, you are a fine host for offering it." Nechtan either has a remarkably good poker face, or he is being sincere. "I could fetch in furs for the floor, if you wish," Yup, sincere, "Can I eat first though?"

"All of us?" The golden haired baker arches an eyebrow at Nechtan, eyeing him up with practiced measure. "I'm afraid I'm just the caterer," Audra says with a wink. Lillian and Brynden are met with a curtsey and Saera is given a nod of greeting as on equal terms. "If it is far too crowded I can go and come back for opinions later. You'll have to split and share some of these anyhow - but this is what we're thinking for the forecourt and the tray-girls in the boxes."

"A lovely duet?" Brynden asks to Saera, before he adds, "And it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Ser Brynden Hightower, this is my sister, Lady Lillian." At Lillian's words, he offers her a grin. "Stop making sense, sister. What will I have to grumble about now?" A look and a nod to Melysa as well, along with a momentary smile.

Loryn's mouth claps open… and shut again. The bubbly Tyrell just stares at Nechtan for a moment, the snorts a dry laugh and shakes his head a little. "I wasn't aware that wildlings kept warm that way, but I reckon it's cold up north." He finishes his finger-pie and looks around to see if anyone needs introductions, but they are doing a fine job themselves. "It's excellent, truly.", he assures Audra and looks at Brynden and Lillian: "Please, do try the samples, they need to be selling among the nobles in the gallery too, so we appreciate your opinion."

Rousing from the wildling's arm, Saera bumps her elbow into his side. It would be all but impossible for her scant form to hurt him but the nudge is firm enough to get the point across. "Tut tut. If you expect me to sing that sort of song for the Lords and Ladies without a warm-up you're out of your mind." Though there's a playful, suggestive twang to her words, she's well-humored enough to (hopefully?) deflect some of his sincerety. Nevertheless, she gives a squeeze at his side, suggesting she's not at all offended by his brazen behavior. Violet eyes hone in on Brynden and, for a moment, her brow creases as if she had forgotten something. That befuddled expression washes away in an instant, though without the flicker of recognition she may have been hoping for. "Ah… Yes! Nechtan and I were just auditioning separately for the Whimsy, and Loryn had the wonderful idea of pairing us for a duet. It was quite lovely."

"I will never understand the ways of the South," says Nechtan to Saera, "Should I fetch the furs or not? Is this '/that/ kind of party'?" Notably, he doesn't wave or introduce himself around, though that may just be because his hands are full of wine and woman (who gets a squeeze in return), "We are songbirds."

Melysa makes her way to Brynden and Lillian, wine glasses in hand. She dips a deep curtsey and then offers one to each. "Lady Lillian, ser Brynden, most pleased to make your aquaintance. I am Melysa, I am here hopefully to use the expertise the Whimsy has at costumes. Indeed I have already had some tailors sew me a mermaid costume. Perhaps if either of you are taking a ship out into the bay during the Dolphin Festival you might take a mermaid with you, for good luck. They are so busy here, plays, singing, dancing, all sorts of things."

Lillian laughs a little as she looks to Nechtan, the wildling catching her attention as he talks about furs.. She blushes deeply and chooses not to answer. Her fingers pick up a pastry and she samples it with a look of delight "oooh this one is buttery, and crispy… and a bit… gooey." she giggles a little as she licks her lips before she looks to Melysa and she smiles "I would not mind taking any along with me."

Audra takes a step back and smooths her long grey kirtle down to ensure all the flour dust is gone, brushing her hand over her golden bun to ensure it's neatly kept up in place. She smiles at Lillian's description and nods her head. "My husband's an excellent baker. I'm just more… sociable so I handle the deliveries. I wanted hearty fare for the forecourt but more refined bits for the ladies and lords up in the boxes. Things you won't get all over your fine gowns and whatnot more 'n a bit of crumbs."

"I've engaged Miss Saera and Mr Nechtan to appear at the next musical soiree at Garden Isle after the festival. And Miss Melysa is planning to present her talent at the late-night variety at the Whimsy.", Loryn introduces his guests to the new arrivals, especially the Hightowers who regulary attend the shindigs at Garden Isle.

Melysa flashes her dimples to Lady Lillian. Though if she's the mermaid mascot on a noblewoman's ship her costume will have to include the two seashells. "I hope I can find a skilled tailor who can produce a suitable acrobat's costume before next late-night theater event. Uh, when is that next Ser Loryn?" The young woman speaks with a Lys accent.

Brynden takes the offered glass of wine, taking a sip from it. "Excellent," he offers, before he pauses as he hears MElysa's words. "A mermaid costume? That sounds quite lovely," he says, before he pauses as he hears the rest. "I have been considering that." Another brief pause, before he looks to the pastries, picking up one of them. Nodding a bit as he hears Loryn's words, "Sounds like you still have things here well in hand," he offers. There's also a brief smile offered to Saera mostly, but also Nechtan. "Sounds quite interesting."

Saera plucks up a pastry and splits it in half. One section is pressed between her lips, chewing as she watches the others speak, while the other is offered up to the wildling man. She takes a quick sip of the wine to wash it down. "I think they were joking," she says to Nechtan, lips quirking with a lopsided smile. "Though maybe they were just thinking aloud. Either way I don't think that's the sort of entertainment they have planned for the evening." Turning, though slow enough that the wildling man can keep his hand planted firm on the curve of her hip, she addresses the Hightowers and Baker with a lift of her glass. "My Lord, my Lady. I look forward to performing for you both. Don't worry, there aren't going to be furs involved." Then a pause and a sidelong glance to Nechtan interrupts her confidence. "Probably."

Audra moves to settle herself on the windowsill to keep the room mostly uncrowded. She seems to be watching the faces of the folk enjoying the foof as if gauging for feedback. At least until she pops up herself and steals one of her own raspberry-lemon bars to nibble on, brushing crumbs away from her red lips.

Lillian blinks to Melysa "I can make you anything your heart desires M'lady" says the Hightower confidently. She too gets some wine before she smiles to her brother before she helps herself to another cookie.

The wildling, apparently deciding he is still too sober, upends his wineglass down his throat and closely follows with the pastry. "Ah, it is not like that," he says once he swallows, "That is a shame,there is rarely a better way to cement an alliance than f-.." he stops himself, frowns. "What is the word that I can use without offending people again?" he asks, half to himself, "Ah, that is it. Pillow-dancing." He gives Saera a huge grin, "If there are furs involved, everyone /should/ be invited."

"Loryn!" A warm tenor calls from the stairwell, the voice is not familiar but it carries with the presence of a stage performer all the same. The bold voice continues before the owner is seen, "Lor, I've got the gentleman here with the yards of fabrics you wanted from Lys…" Clovis turns the corner and the sight of /all/ those people in his cousin's tiny office causes him to stop in the doorway. He has a wide disarming smile, "Better go make sure he doesn't unload all the colors you /don't/ want with the ones you do…" And he jabs a thumb over his shoulder back at the downstairs.

"Actually, I do have my mermaid costume here, but I didn't wear it." Melysa frowns. "I don't imagine the theater would have two seashells of matching sizes here, else I might offer to show it off. And I would be most eager to take up that offer Lady Lillian, though I'm anything but a lady." She turns as she hears Clovis enter and dips a deep curtsey.

"Clovis! Have some wine and try Miss Audra's samples!", Loryn greets his cousin's arrival with delight, "And meet all these interesting new people. Keep an eye out for strange offers.", he winks as he approaches Clovis and once he's so close to him he can whisper, adds: "And keep an eye on the place while I'm gone." Then he turns to the room in general with a smile. "If you all excuse me for a moment? A theatre manager's work never ends…" The Tyrell slips out.

Audra waves to Clovis from her seat on the windowsill. "I'm Mistress Audra - Ser Loryn is trying some of my shop's wares for the wimey food court." She gives him a warm smile and motions to the table - the savory pies and sweet tarts and cookies set out to sample. Nechtan's blatant commentary draws a bit of a blush on her fair skin although she's more amused than embarassed.

Saera purses her lips to stifle a smirk as Nechtan goes on about the lewd. She clearly doesn't disapprove judging by the mirth in her violet eyes, but she's at least making the effort to pretend. As any good Bastard should, she gives at least a half-effort at maintaining a noble appearance. Her glass is hoisted to the departong Loryn before she takes another drink. "Farewell, Lord Tyrell! Here's to you and the Whimsy."

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