Theater Log
Tenebrae - Wednesday, December 30, 2015, 8:47 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.
At the centre of the district, beside the open stage, a Jade Islander is engaged in conversation with a young woman. At infrequent intervals he makes grand gestures, pointing to the theatres. She looks interested enough to stay still, but disinterested enough for the Xian to keep trying. In one hand he clutches a new red brick.
In contrast to the bright, garish color and oft celebratory air of the district, the large lupine that lumbers in is... none of these things. Despite her bulk, she moves casually, quietly, and possibly even less than entirely conspicuous. Aside from the fact that her presence may cause some issue with anything her size or smaller who might hold some concerns on becoming prey.
Mikilos is smaller than few things. Well, shorter, the elf isn't exactly massive. Not that physical dimensions mean much to the magic user. Wandering idly, a pair of parchments hover around the wizard, quietly waiting for his attention.
The Xian looks up, puzzled to see the large lupine form amidst the theatres. Seemlessly, he smiles broadly. "And that's why, with your support, the Hope Theatre could stay standing for another thousand years." He looks at the wolf. "Care to sponsor a brick, Wolfie?"
Dire Wolf pauses in her steps as she's spoken to and a brick is hefted in her direction. Her head tilts. "Sponsor? In what way? Bricks do not require training nor encouragement."
From another building emerges a group of musicians, cased (mostly) and uncased (in a few cases) instruments in hand or secured over backs or across shoulders. Chatter among them is lighthearted and animated, but all stop short as they spot the wolf. Most back up and look for a place to run; one in the middle, a burly blonde man with a set of panpipes tucked into his belt and a good deal of ornamentation, blinks a couple of times and shakes his head, grin never fading. "Naw, mates," Aldean's voice is clearly audible. "Guard knows that'un, ain't goin' after anyone, is it?" Before he can say more ... it talks, and several jump and turn to run. "Aye, that'd be the way of it. A Guildie." He shrugs, and thsoe who didn't run relax -- a little at least.
Mikilos perks an ear, glancing at the wolf and Xian. "'Bricks'? What about bricks?" Glancing over, he raises a hand in greeting to Aldean.
Setiawan says, "Simple," The Xian grins, finding another punter. "You pay what the theatre needs to pay for the brick, for repairs like, and when it goes into the new building, we carve your name on it, so they all know your continuing generosity.""
Dire Wolf snorts. "If they need bricks, they should ask for bricks, not coins. I do not require my name upon the building. It is not mine, and I may walk Ea long after it has crumbled."
Mikilos mmmms. "I think avoiding crumbeling is the point. Still, a brick just doesn't quite resonate 'me'. I'm really more of a solid stone sorta guy. Maybe a support column, or something."
The explanation gets a few weird looks from Aldean's companions, but his easy and genial smile dismisses their concerns. "Go an' get yerself some grub, mates. I'll be along directly." So saying, he turns away even as the rest of the group disperses into one of the nearby taverns, ambling in the direction of the stage and the group chattering.
The Islander looks at the wolf. "They /are/ asking for bricks. Ten thousand of them. But, you need money for a brick, and for mortar, and for that chap who sticks it all together. So, a bit of cash goes a long way. Say, one gold piece, miss?" The young woman looks at him carefully. "Maybe we can talk about sponsoring a column, wizzo," he tells MMikilos.
"If they cannot build it themselves, and cannot trade with others to do so," the lupine opines, "they should do without. Why do they need it? Shelter is easy to find."
Mikilos nods. "Shelter with good acustics and enough storage space backstage is a little harder." Frowning mildly, the magus peers at the theater thoughfully. "...so what exactly is the plan? I'm thinking if you can bring me a load of red clay and a barrel of sand, I can have the job done in under an hour."
As he approaches the stage, Aldean looks from face to face, deep in discussion, but appears to think better of interjecting a comment, instead planting both hands on the stage and pulling himself up onto it to sit on its edge. Right there there's nothing more involving than a couple of children playing towards its back, and he fishes out his panpipes from his belt and looks them over closely. It's not until Mikilos makes his comment that the bard looks up. "Careful, mate. Theater'll take ye up on that ... an' they'll not leave yer doorstep, neither. Which theater be ye after?"
The Xian looks at the bard. He's both excited and perturbed to have such a big audience. Still, needs must. "Flame's Hope Theatre, pal," he says. "It's falling down, out back. Most funds go into making the front look pretty, so the competition don't look too closely. Backstage, though, and underneath---place is in bits."
Dire Wolf cranes her neck towards Mikilos to regard him, then snorts. "There. You have your repairs." That one offered what they seek, if not in the same form. A more direct and simple solution, in fact. Though she is still doubtful that such repairs, or structure, are so important in the first place.
Mikilos mmmms, and shrugs to Aldean. "Wouldn't be the first time. Though they tend to drift away quick enough. A few clever illusions are one thing. Actaully melting the cobblestones is quite another." urning back to the XAin, he nods. "I admit, I've not been backstage for a couple years. I didn't so much notice the state of the building as the organization of the play scripts. Or rather, the utter lack. Took almost a week to get them all sorted. I almost don't dare go back, for dread of what's happened in the meantime. Ah well, I did get a few copies for my private collection out of the deal."
The woman, the Xian's first punter, shakes her head, and walks away.
The name clearly registers with Aldean, because he raises one blonde eyebrow, and shakes his head. "Oy, best not say that too loudly. Flightwright'll have a merry holiday with that bit of news." That's said with a baritone chuckle.
The man looks at the bard conspiratorially. "Aye, that's just the thing. We're keeping things a bit quiet. It's a great opportunity to, uhh, patronize the arts. Shall I put you down for 20 bricks, Mister?"
Mikilos grins. "Or perhaps the Flightwright will slap up a new layer of wallpaper and pray no one looks too close at what's underneath. I think every theater has financial worries. It's part of the busniess."
"Aye, an' neither one'll lose a chance to snipe at the other," Aldean agrees easily. "Fair winds to ye," he adds by way of greeting. "Aye, I'll donate ten, an' ye'll not put a name on 'em." He fishes in one of the pouches at his belt for a few gold coins.
The blonde man pauses a moment, and the genial behavior turns just a little bit reflective. "Naw. Name on 'em be Muse's Grace." The mobile features hold a look taht reads _I can't believe I'm doing this_.
Arisha has arrived.
Dire Wolf's own expression remains as it was, which is not so different from Aldean's. She can't believe that someone is selling bricks, much less in this fashion. Even moreso that humanoids are fool enough to... well, perhaps that is not so difficult to believe.
Mikilos ponders a few moments, and shrugs. "If you do happen across a load of clay and sand, let me know, I'll turn it into a wall for you. Until then..." the magus frowns thoughfully. "How big is the lettering on these bricks?"
"Big as you like, mate," the brickseller says. "A letter on each brick looks great. I can cut you a deal, if you sponsor ten or more?"
For his part, Aldean's just listening to the exchange, paying no mind to the wolf's expression, pipes still between his hands.
You say, "Mikilostravia Abrioudelanarchie Mithralla; I suppose an even dozen will leave enough room to make it legible."
It's right about then a cloaked figure walks her way into the theatre district. She walks a bit slower when she hears the pipes from Aldean. She walks her way over to the sound of the pipes and leans upon....something that isn't Aldean to listen. One of the few joys in her life......that she allows herself. not that anyone can tell with Arisha's face covered up.
The Islander's eyes open wide with delight. "That's a helluva name, wizzo. Sure just twelve? They'll be little with that many. Maybe twenty; that'll qualify you fo maybe 8 silver bits per brick??"r
Dire Wolf shakes her head with a snort and begins to resume her lumbering strides. "Those who desire and use this "theater" should be the ones to rebuild and repair it, with their own hands. Ea provides clay, stone, wood, and all else required. There is no need to buy shelter."
"How you spelling that, wizzo? No, wait, I'll get some paper." The man strides off into the near distance.
Mikilos grins after the wolf. "Then perhaps you should attend a few performance? The plays can be hit or miss, but the symphony tends to be worth the effort." He smiles after the brick seller, but keeps quiet.
It's right about then a cloaked figure walks her way into the theatre district. Tilting her head at people selling bricks, the figure turns her way towards Aldean and nudges him lightly. "What's going on?" She says in a soft voice as she watches the exchange between Mikilos and the brick seller. Arisha shakes her head before looking to Mikilos. "One way to look at it."
"They are, lass." Aldean finally levels a look at the wolf, although his smile is still there, if small. He's not actually playing so much as toying with the pipes at the moment. "Theater ain't jes' shelter. Some say it be a temple in its way." He looks over as Arisha joins the conversation, and nods. "Damned lot of 'em be a temple to some fool's ego, mind," he adds with a baritone chuckle.
Dire Wolf pauses and tilts her head, though her expression remains as dubious as ever. "If it is what they value, all the more reason for them to create and caretake, not rely upon the whims of others." Muzzle and eyes pan to study the latest arrival briefly.
Mikilos nods greeting to the most recent arrival. "Theater is attempting to raise funds by soliciting brick sponcers. Buy a brick, get your name engraved upon it."
"Or they simply strive to be....someone other than themselves because they cannot stand who they actually are." Arisha says before looking to Mikilos. "Really. What're they raising funds for? Another play or to rebuild the stage?"
"Ye misunderstand me, lass. They are. Ain't jes them as work here that care about it, ye know." Aldean pauses a long moment, studying the wolf. "An' what're ye doin' down this way anyroad? I'd've wagered a good amount o' gold ye'd be long gone. Ye've made yer hatred of city folk plain enough."
"They are ignorant children," the lupine answers Aldean with more disdain, "but perhaps some will learn. Some may be worth protecting. That is why I am here." Her attention snaps back to the cloaked speaker at her words. "Begging others to do their work does not improve nor change them."
Mikilos shrugs to Arisha. "Little of both, likely. Something about troubles backstage." The wizard glances at the sky, and frowns. "I should get going. Things left in that lab that shouldn't be left to their own devices for too long." Glancing after the brick seller, Mikilos takes a busniess card from his pocket, and sets it into the air, at about eye level. The card stays there, waiting to be taken. Wizards.