Outside Theater

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Tenebrae - Monday, May 15, 2017, 9:15 AM


-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--<* A04: Theatre District *>=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

While the area contains more than theatre, it is most known for its dueling play houses and established, theatrical families. Competition for talent, especially known actors and playwrights, is fierce. An example of these long-standing, yet well-entrenched feuds are the Flightwright and Flame's Hope--two theatres built within a hundred years of one another yet separated by more than ideology. Owned by opposing families, the various troupes have been unofficially "at war" for over a hundred years.

Ribbons in Ceinara's vibrant colors grace the mismatched and often run-down streets, attesting to the District's colorful and creative background. The buildings possess no single style. Though not the quality in Upper Alexandria, this District possesses a thoroughly bohemian spirit and style amid its contrasting landscapes.

Aside from several well-known theatres, artists and crafters of all sorts make their homes here, as much for company as cheap rent. Callers-out stand on street corners, announcing the latest play, with what's in production reflecting the tone of the times and often, current politics. Street musicians abound, playing instruments or, for more visual artists, offering portraits for a few coppers to silver. Present, too, are Muses and their ilk, whose blessings the houses and various artists compete for.

The very center of the district is home to an open stage, an area raised a few feet from street level and worn flat. Anyone may perform here, and many do, though it's often an area for musician's gatherings and general lounging.

Soren on the other hand, was actually helping clean up some of the mess. Since he was going to be spending the forseeable future in this city, it's in his best interests to help keep it clean, innit? At this exact moment... he sat, taking a drink, seemingly taking a moment away from the work to refresh himself, when he hears the squawking of the raven. Huh... don't see that every day.

Mikilos makes his way out of the Hope Theater, glancing around absently before starting a casual stroll. Nice day for a walk, and a good time to the walking in it. Or strolling. Meandering? Pick your prefered verb of choice. (NOT prancing. That's strictly for grassy meadows.)

Oblivious or just completely uncaring, the tall sildanyar strolls along with an easy, long stride. Their body language reads as mostly relaxed but worry the edge of their right thumb with the nail of their forefinger. The raven opens its wings a little as the individual steps sideways lightly to avoid something in the road, casting off its blanket of hair. "Look, we just have to find whatever this wizard's society is, wait for them to laugh us out of the city, and then we can say we tried and that's all there is to it."

The raven tilts its head up at the sildanyar, warbling a serious of croaks. "No," comes the answer. "What do you think they're going to do, Malachi? Welcome us with open robes? No, it'll probably exactly like it was in Rune. You remember how -that- went, don't you?" The raven preens. It's might be difficult to tell what that response from the bird means, exactly.

"Hell," mumbles the sildanyar, coming to halt and planting their long-fingered hands on their thin hips. "I have no idea where we are."

Soren rises slowly, and stretches a bit, before walking out onto the street, taloned feet tapping gently on the cobblestone. He walked towards the Sildanyar, and tilted his head a bit. "If it isn't rude of me to ask... you actually understand your companion, there?" he asks with a slightly raised brow.

Mikilos perks an ear, glancing to the short elf. Well, short by Miki's standard, which are admittedly odd. "Theater District. I'm sorry, I happened to overhear, did you say something of the wizard's guild?" He nods politely yo Soren as well.

The remark from the bird-like creature seems to startle the individual into taking a few steps back lightly. It's quite clear that they hadn't seen the humanoid hawk at all, having been completely wrapped up in their own thoughts andconversation with the raven on their shoulder. They look between the raven, then back to the hawklike individual and stare. Long enough to be very slightly awkward by most social conventions. Then the other elf speaks and they backpedal away from them both, their mouth hanging open just slightly.

The individual opens their mouth to speak, looking between the person asking about their raven and the person asking about the wizard's guild, and they simply freeze, whispering to the raven. "Hold still. They might think we're crazy and just... ignore us." The raven lets out a profuse string of sildanyari curses, but so broken and weirdly fragmented that they might as well just be cursing in gibberish. The bird opens their wings and flutters over to a broken crate to stare at the... other bird with a curious stare. "Warblesquawk?"

"Malachi, -no-, get back here." They turn a flat look to the hawklike humanoid first. "Sort of." To the other sildayar. "Yes."

Black hair hanging in their face, this individual also might look like they've spend -weeks- in the woods, though they don't smell it. Their hair is unkempt and windswept, clothing scrubbed but still grass and dirt stained.

The hawkman perks at the mention of the location. Admittedly, he had not been paying nearly as much attention to the content of what had been said as he should... but simply nodded in reply to Mikilos, before nodding a bit slower at the other Sildanyar's response. "I see..." he says, looking at the raven, and offering his finger as a perch. "I'm sorry my friend, but I can't actually understand you. I never learned that skill from my grandfather." he says with a small grin. "Unfortunately, I do not know my way around the city as of yet. Sorry." he says, in response to the Wizard's guild comment, smiling just a bit sheepishly.

Mikilos chuckles. "Insanity is a common malady hereabouts. So you'll find few to give it second notice. If you care for more of it, I'd suggest the IronBrew to the north, with the owner Jibbom Steel Von IronBlood, Bane of Night, and whatever other title he happens to claim this day. Nice enough fellow, but not the sharpest tack. As to myself" the elf offers a flourish of a bow "Mikilostravia Abrioudelanarchie Mithralla, Lord of Estranillia, Archmage of the Sixth Circle, and sometime teacher at the Alexandira Society of Progressive Arcanists, which is what used to be the mages Guild. And really, anything more than just 'Mikilos' is showing off."

Mikilos' statement simply has the other elf staring. Really staring. The raven hops happily to the other bird's finger and preens sedately as their owner tries to find their voice again. In contrast to Mikilos, this sildanyar is almost ludicrously plain, but can also almost look them in the eye. "Uhm," they state in their mellow voice, running one long-fingered hand through their tangled hair. A few leaves flutter out of the black and silver strands.

"Rune," they say by way of introduction. A jerk of the head, mechanical and stiff, to the raven. "He's Malachi." Another long pause. "Your name is ridiculous." Not said unkindly, just... with all the grace of a brick to the side of the skull. Rune doesn't return the bow, watching Mikilos instead with an almost unblinking, cold stare. "What do you want?"

Soren dipped his head. "I am Soren." he says with a smile, and a nod. And with that, he gently pet the ravens head, before looking back to Mikilos, dipping his head a bit more seriously, then again to Rune. "A pleasure to meet you both." Then he grins just a little more. "But she's right. That is a ridiculous name." he says with a small touch of humor, hoping to lighten the mood just a bit, maybe help the stranger from a strange land lessen their wariness, and relax.

Mikilos grins again, and nods politely. "Greetings Rune, and to you Malachi. I just want to offer assistance. It's been a few years, but I recall being a bit lost when I first arrived in Alexandros myself. The Society and Magic College are in the northwestern part of the city, in the Sage Plaza. As for names, it's the only one I've had, so seems normal enough to me. But for casual use 'Mikilos' is just fine." He does wax a bit verbose, but then again, he said he acts as a wizard teacher. So, lectures. Lots of them.

A flat stare directed at Soren. "I'm not a girl," they state in a voice that suggests that is a conversation they've had before and aren't about to debate. It's just a few shades from openly hostile. The raven, shamelessly, happens to be enjoying having his feather's scritched and petted, and simply soaks up the attention. Rune does not smile. Atall. They're not scowling either. Just... flat.

"This city is enormous and has too many people and too much noise." The instructions to the college are absorbed, noted, collected with the same impassivity, but Rune adds a faint thoughtful nod to indicate that they've heard. "I'm still debating whether or not I'm going to go there." They pull at a thread on their sleeve but otherwise remain still.

Soren nodded towards Rune. "Noted, and I apologize." he says, continuing to pet the raven. "That however, brings up more questions." he glanced at her and lifts a brow. "If you're not sure if you'll go, then what brings you to Alexandros?" he asks with a slight tilt. He glanced at Mikilos, and nodded slowly. "If I may ask though, does the guild, college, or what it may be named this week allow others to sit in on lectures? Namely, regarding planar anomalies?"

Mikilos chuckles. "There's actaully all three. The Society is a loose collection of people intrested in the arcane arts. The Guild is a sub-set of the Explorer's Guild, and then there's College, which has both classes and lectures. If a given class is open to public attendance is typically up to the professor of the class. Individual lectures might be only for students, or might be open to anyone. I'm not aware of any in the near future for planar anomalies. What exactly do you want to know?"

"Survival." Rune states to Soren in the same toneless voice. They make a clicking series of noises and the raven nibbles at Soren's fingers (or feathers?) and then flutters to Runesael's shoulder once again, plucking at their hair and settling to hide underneath it. "And as for your questions, I imagine they're the same as everyone before you. Why don't you look like a predetermined set of completely arbitrary rules for the appearance of males and females? Why are you so unfriendly? Did you know your name is the same as the city you're from? Does the bird bite? Do you know your kind is a blight upon the face of the world and a mockery of real magic?"

All of this, again, is delivered with the same tone with almost no inflection whatsoever.

"I will give you answers. To the first, it's none of your business and if you think it is you are incorrect. I am who I am, I will never apologize for that. The second - because people continually ask me questions that don't need to be asked. The third, yes. The fourth, again, yes, but only if I tell him to. As to the last question, yes, I'm a witch, no, I don't care what your opinion of them are, and no, I don't want to know how inferior I am to 'real' magic users. Does that about cover it?" Neutral. Completely, horrifically neutral. The raven preens. "Everyone I know has either been killed by wights or is lost in the mist." They tilt their head to the side, narrowing their eyes faintly, their lips pressed into a thin line. "Enough? Or did you have more questions?"

Mikilos stops grinning. It's not quite a scowl, but his features darken noticibally. "....just one. What ass suggested that witch's are a blight?"

Soren blinks as Rune begins to unload questions and answers upon him, and seems taken aback for a moment, but lets out a sigh of... exasperation? Worry? Anger? It's really hard to tell. But he starts calmly. "Ok. Allow me to start with... I clearly touched a nerve, and for that I apologize. I know better than to ask questions on sore topics. However..." and in a moment his facade breaks, his tone dropping, and one hand tightening. "Do not presume to put questions in my mouth." he says heated, but sternly, trying to keep his composure and clearly failing. He seems to catch himself, and he takes a breath, calming himself just a bit. "I had asked the only other question I intended to inquire upon, and while I can respect that others may have been less than tactful with you. Please don't assume that others are as thoughtless. In order; Don't care who you are, and you shouldn't have to apologize. Don't care if you're unfriendly, only if you show disrespect. My cousin's named after a mountain. I noticed. Finally, I don't know the difference between a witch and a wizard anyway, so I couldn't comment. The only casters I could Identify are Druids anyway, and that's because Gramps was one." Then there's another long breath. And another. Finally, he took in a deep breath and started speaking again. "So I apologize for starting this unpleasantness. I meant no offense. I hope that you can forgive the actions of one marked the fool." he says with a small bow. Then Soren glanced at Mikilos, and nodded slowly. "To answer your question, Many of the stories of my home had quite a bit on the travel of air elementals, and how they touched upon the world, and how they influenced my people. But beyond that, they also gave my people some of their more powerful magics. I'd like to learn more on Air Elementals whenever I can."

Mikilos nods distractedly to Soren, his focus still upon Rune. "Not my area of expertice. But I'm sure the College has information, and might be a related lecture or class soonish."

Whatever Rune was expecting from Soren, it wasn't that. The second Soren had started to show clear, unmistakable signs of losing their patience, Rune had been crooking their fingers very slowly into the beginning of a spell, the first syllable of the incantation poised in shape on their lips. (Mikilos may recognize the very beginning of ghostbane dirge.) Rune was absolutely, clearly expecting a fight, the impassive resolve on their face sharpening into fear.

But nothing happens. Then the Egalrin -bows- to them and there's just obvious confusion now. Their fingers tremble. Have they ever even been in a fight? Probably not. Rune lets their hands drop to their sides and stares at Soren for a long, silent moment.

They bow in return.

Not just a cursory, polite bow, but one that appears to be incredibly practiced - graceful, even - and incredibly formal. Their face softens when they look up. "I am afraid I must disagree, Master Soren. I spoke out of turn, expecting ... " A pause. "You are not responsible for the way others have treated me, and there was no reason for me to hold you accountable for an offense you have not even committed. Forgive me, for I am in the wrong."

To Mikilos. "When my father was a wizard and a respected apothecary. He said that having a witch in the family was a curse. Some of the wizards in Rune agreed. News travels fast. The Watchwood was the only place I ever found any peace."

Another thoughtful pause, and Runesael actually offers Soren the ghost of a smile, just a faint tugging upwards of their lips, though it's a mixed expression. Understanding and sadness. "Master Soren, whatever story has been told of you through the wind, I do not believe it. If it is true, then I think you have caught whatever you were sent to search for." An inclination of the head and a thoughtful pause. "It seems neither of us can go home."

Mikilos sighs, and rubs absently at the bridge of his nose. "Ah, the ever bias view of the Conclave. Certainly there are always exceptions, but I think you'll find much of the world views the rules of the Conclave as out-dated and stiff. They became all about ploicy and ritual, rather than practical application. Big part of why the local group went with the name -Progressive- Arcanists. Anyway, while there certainly are bias individuals, I think you'll find the Society as a whole rather accepting of witches. For myself, I chose the path of Wizardy. Witches weren't a thing back when I started my studies, but you are perfectly welcom to stop by my own facilities whenever you should happen to like. I'm up the mountainside under the giant sword. Hard to miss."

Rune, looking mostly exhausted by this whole process slides back into their normal bearing. "Thank you. I shall consider your offer, though I suspect my curiosity will get the better of me. I've never seen a 20 foot tall sword."

Runesael goes OOC.