Participants:

Adeline_icon.gif Ariston_icon.gif Julie_icon.gif

Scene Title A Moment to Watch
Synopsis A street performance makes two women stop, and then Adeline is a bleeding heart.
Location Lowtown Market
Date Harvestmere 29, 9:31 Dragon
Watch For Street performance
Logger Adeline

One might expect a routine like this to have the performer doing a barking of 'follow the crystal ball, ladies and gentlemen, and notice that at not time do my hands leave my wrists~'. But no, that's not what's going on. The performer in question is a well-built man, with black hair that reaches the nape of his neck, and a well-trimmed mustache and beard. He is dressed in a dark blue tunic and black trousers. The tunic is snug, but the legs of the pants are loose and voluminous, and tucked into his almost knee-length boots.
What's this performance? The man has a single solid clear ball and is rolling it over his hands in ways that might seem impossible. Across his fingers and from hand to hand without the ball seeming to move. Across the backs of his hands, one after the other, in a stepped way, somehow not dropping it. Down his arms, one after the other. Even up one arm, across his chest, and down the other arm at one point.

But it is perhaps when he 'feathers' the ball over his hands that it looks the most mysterious…

Orlais' least-favorite Chevalier is dressed down for the day. Well, at least as dressed down as the daughter of a Comte can figure out. Julie wears a well loved pair of black boots, trousers of a similar condition, a simple white shirt and a heavy coat that looks like it's seen more than a few fights. The somewhat observant eye might notice the antivan leather belt and artfully rafted rapier with matching offhand on her hips underneath said worn leather surcoat. The distinctly Orlesian woman's brown hair is pulled into a simple tail at the base of her neck, blue eyes sweeping over the lowtown market as she makes her way from the vauge direction of the Hanged Man. Keen eyes spy Ariston and his crystal ball, a sculpted brow quirking as she watches the man at his craft. "Maker, you don't see dexterity like that everyday." She mutters, picking a spot on the wall to lean in the shade and watch the dancer at an anonymous distance, for now.

Usually, Warden blues aren't the usual thing to be seen down here in Lowtown. However, with the fact that a contingent of Wardens has been set up in the Hanged Man since… Maker's balls, had she really been here since Bloomingtide? These people she was being sent really needed to get here more quickly. The monster of dark hair that frames her face is pulled back hastily, the leather tie straining to keep back the riot it has been tasked with maintaining. Honestly, you would think the Senior Warden would give up eventually. Not Adeline, though, she's not one for letting anything best her, not even her own hair. On her left shoulder sits a pale gyrfalcon, hooded and peaceful, and her bow is slung over her back with her quiver, both marked with motifs of Starkhaven artistry. She's been shopping for awhile, and a heavy canvas bag is over her right shoulder, but until now she has missed the man performing. Or she hasn't stopped to watch because she was busy, either way. Sharply blue eyes, distinct and trademark of her family, focus on the performer, not realizing quite how close her own place to lean is to Julie's.

That is perhaps the beauty of these performances. They're short enough to stop, watch, and then move on without it taking up a huge amount of time — only a few minutes at the most. So the two ladies need not worry that they'll miss something important, either in their duties or in the performance. At the conclusion of the act he tosses the ball up and catches it lightly on the bridge of his nose. And then he displays that the flexibility isn't just in his hands… when he manages to bow to the small crowd he's gathered, without spilling the ball off his face.
Then he straightens, letting the ball slip into one hand, and then bows properly. There is applause, and coins are dropped into a drawstring bag he'd placed down on the ground and left open for this purpose.
"Thank you ladies and gentlemen," the performer says, finally breaking his silence since starting the show. He tries to make eye contact with as many of the peple who watched as possible. Which includes Julie and Adeline, by coincidence. And then as people start to file away? He winces. Looking at his right hand, he flexes the fingers into a fist a few times, as if it's sore. He lifts his foot off the ground, positioning that leg as though he's going to cross his legs in the air so he can untie it from around his ankle. he doesn't seem to have any trouble balancing.

Julie's eyebrows continue to climb higher on her forehead as she watches, clearly enjoying what she's seeing. Speaking of things Julie likes looking at, Adeline seems to be out and about. The Chevalier smiles and waves to the Starkhaven woman, "Senior Warden Vael!" She says, flashing the ranger one of her winning smiles. "Enjoying Kirkwall's new fauna as well?" She says with a wink, though given Adeline's usual temperament she knows better. She turns her attention back to Ariston, wistful sigh escaping her lips. "Maker you don't make them like that in Orlais, and it's a crying shame." The Chevalier's expression is a play at sadness, which vanishes when Ariston concludes his performance, replaced by a charming smile and applause.

Adeline smiles faintly as she watches, seeming quite content to just watch this performance and spend the couple of minutes relaxing. Maker knew she got little enough of it. But when Julie calls her name, she glances over to the Orlesian woman with a nod. "Julie." She says, in the tone she so often takes, not warm but not impersonal. It's a tone all Wardens learn, really, whether they mean to or not. That tone that is just a little bit outside. "Yes, I am." Look, she didn't partake terribly often, but Adeline wasn't blind. Nevertheless, when she turns her attention back to Ariston, she shifts just a little closer to Julie, marking that she is not dismissing her. There are gentle applause at the conclusion of the performance, so as not to dislodge the bird from her shoulder. But Adeline is too observant by half, and she frowns as Ariston flinches.

"Hurt yourself, lad?" Adeline calls to the performer as the crowd disperses, voice thick with her Starkhaven burr. She adjusts the bag on her shoulder, the tell tale sound of clinking vials making it obvious that she probably has something in there that would help with an actual injury. But it may be something simpler.

Ariston looks up at Julie's shout, blinking. He keeps his balance though. You'd think he was standing with both feet planted on the ground rather than twisted up into some half-pretzel nonsense. He unties the bag and then stands properly. Adeline's call to him gets a chuckle. Rather than shout across the distance though, he heads over to where the two women are standing, while tying up the bag. The clear ball he slips into another bag carefully; a soft clink is heard, indicating there may be more of those in there.

"Ah, not exactly," he finally answers. He speaks with a cultured accent, much like one might hear in Tevinter. But his face has the look of Rivain about it. "I've been doing these performances all day, that's all. Tends to give one a dreadful cramp in the wrists."

He pauses, looking between the two women, and then places a hand to his chest. He bows, with a flourish. "My name is Ariston. Might I ask your names, dear ladies?" Well, he's polite, he's got that going for him.

Julie chuckles in Adeline's direction, "Ah, good. I'm glad to see you aren't just dead inside." The woman quips at the warden before pouting, "Makes me worry that the problem is me, though." She says /almost/ managing to get through that without a smirk creeping onto her face, but not quite. But then she turns her attention to Ariston as he makes his way over, flashing the… Tevinter? Rivani? Man a smile before inclining her head and giving introductions. "Julie d'Aaubingy. A pleasure to meet you, Ariston." One particularly educated on Orlesian nobility might recognize 'd'Aubingy' as the surname of a High Noble family, those educated further still might know that Comte Gaston's only daughter is a Chevalier, but these are all things the comtess-to-be leaves off for some reason or another. "I haven't seen a performance like that since I was in Antiva. And even then, none in Antiva City were so skilled."

"Dead inside? No, dear." Adeline says with a laugh, "I can see. It's the follow through that falls through." There's a nod then to Ariston. "Yes, I am familiar with such things. You get a similar problem with archery." Adeline shifts her weight, pets at the bird on her shoulder. "Senior Warden Adeline Vael, a pleasure." She answers that greeting with the same almost distant tone she had taken with Julie earlier. And then she glances down to Ariston's hand. "I know a way to ease that problem, if you've a mind to let me." Her hand extends in offering to Ariston, but it does not seem she is insisting.

From the lack of response it's safe to assume that Ariston doesn't recognize Julie's last name. Though that's a good thing; he can judge her on her own merits rather than be a sycophant because of her connections. He offers an almost bashful smile to Julie at her compliment. "Thank you. That is very kind of you. Dance is my passion, but that art is a very close second." He chuckles.
He looks to Adeline as she mentions the similar problem with archery. "Oh I can imagine. You pinch the string to hold the arrows in place, yes? It must demand strength and precision both. Not an easy task." The introduction has him nodding respectfully. "A pleasure to meet you both." Adeline mentions easing the problem with his wrist and he blinks. Looks up at the bird, then at the offered hand. He's not quite sure.
But ultimately he nods, and offers his hand to Adeline. "Do be careful," he cautions, though his voice is half-teasing. "I have rather delicate hands." He's also full of bull there, and Adeline can see that. His hands are callused and rough, even if the digits are ALMOST delicate-looking. Those are a workman's hands.

"A shame, really. But at least you have eyes." Julie quips to Adeline. Then there's the comment about delicate hands and set ups like this just make being rakish /so easy/, but wouldn't you know that's the moment the person Julie's hauled her ass out of bed at a reasonable hour to 'conveniently run into' would happen to wander through the Lowtown market. A shifty looking character, probably with a shifty job to match, heading in the direction of one of the Darktown entrances. "Merde, and just when I was starting to have fun too." The Chevalier mumbles before pushing off the wall and offering her goodbyes over her shoulder. "It was a pleasure to meet you Ariston, I hope to catch one of your shows again soon. Adeline, if you want someone to drink with you know where I live." And just like that the Orlesian weaves her way into the crowd, quickly dropping from people's sight lines.

"Au revoir, Julie." Adeline sends back to the other woman with a nod. Taking Ariston's hand in hers, she tips his hand back to stretch overworked tendons. Her thumbs work at stressed muscles. She's no healer, but she's known one long enough, and had him do this for her enough, to know how this works. There's a small smile sent to Ariston then, even as she continues on her work. "You don't sound, or look, local. What brings you to Kirkwall, lad?"

Ariston nods to Julie as she makes her farewells. Though he does note the shady character. "Oh, do take care Lady d'Aaubingy." Then he smiles. "I will count the moments until I see your beautiful face again." And a bow, remarkably well done considering someone else has hold of his hand. He straightens though, wincing a little as thumbs work into that stressed muscle there. in his hand. Discomfort, not pain. There's a difference. He doesn't pull his hand away.
Her query of his foreigner status gets a nod. "That's true. I'm from Tevinter actually." And then before a weapon can be pulled, "Worry not good lady, I'm no Magister. Merely a former slave who happens to be quite good at entertaining people." He chuckles.

"Oh, careful, lad, she'll eat you for breakfast." Adeline says on a laugh, shaking her head enough that finally the bird on her shoulder rouses. A flutter of wings makes her pause in the massage to Ariston's hand. Lifting the gyrfalcon's hood so he can examine his surroundings, she tucks it in a belt pouch before returning to her task. "Even if you were, I do not shy from mages." She says, grinning, "But I must say I would have been rightly surprised to see Magister working as a street performer."

Ariston laughs quietly as Adeline cautions him against being too sweet on Julie. "That's quite all right. I'm told I'm quite sweet." Rather than wink however, he gives a boyish grin. One that gives a glimpse of the youth that the facial hair's trying hard to hide. And succeeding, until he grins like that. Though he does look to the falcon a bit warily. Didn't they attack the first thing they saw when their hoods were raised? But finding himself pleasantly un-attacked, he turns his attention to Adeline again. "Oh, certainly not. Likely you'd find him in the richest tavern in the city and several his slaves out doing this," he comments. "But in all seriousness, there are good magisters there. Few and far between, but yes. My master…" Pause. "Er, former master, rather… was one of them."

There are different ways to train a falcon, it seems. Adeline has gone with a tactic that is much more controllable. Ah, the benefits of being a Ranger. "Oh, I am sure there are." Adeline says, finishing up the small massage to Ariston's hand, "People are people, no matter where they come from. Some of them are bad, some of them are good." It seems to be the simplest thing in the world to her. "Alright, lad, now rest that hand at least for a little while. No use stressing it further."

Ariston pulls his hand back when Adeline releases it, curling the fingers again. He seems to be in less pain when he does. He looks back to her and smiles. "Thank you very much. I do appreciate that." The mention of resting it gets a sigh. "Ah, I would. But sadly, my only other means of making ends meet requires musicians. And the only other place in Kirkwall that I could ply such a trade would require me to ply another trade as well. If you know what I mean."

Damn Adeline and her bleeding heart, especially for people only just barely not kids. She sighs, shakes his head again. "Alright, lad," She says, her burr taking on an almost maternal tone, "Take this." From a pouch at her hip, she takes a sovereign. It's not a lot of money, but it'll get him housed and fed for a little while. And from a different pouch comes a cookie wrapped in wax paper. Both are offered to the young man with a small smile that says she won't be refused. "Take a few days off, and then go see if the Chantry couldn't use some help. They usually have odds and ends to be done for honest coin."

Ariston's eyes go wide at the sovereign presented to him. "Goodness. Are… you sure?" he asks. There's a kind of awe in his voice, like someone's just dumped cotton candy on a small child from the sky where they couldn't see. But he recovers after a moment, and shakes his head. "I couldn't. But I can definitely take your suggestion." He teases lightly, "I hadn't thought the Chantry in these parts would allow me in. I thought they were convinced that 'Vints' would burst into flames upon entering their establishment."

"The Chantry is a place of love." Adeline says with a shake of her head, "And yes, I insist. I do not need it." Really, she doesn't. Well, not right now, anyway. Her smile gets a little brighter then, "Wardens hardly have a use for coin all that often, anyway." Nevermind that her last name was Vael. Even if she had made people angry with her exit to the Wardens, they were far too pious to cut her from her line of credit.

In the face of these reasons, Ariston nods and accepts the coin. "Thank you. I appreciate this very much," he says, bowing respectfully. As for the Chantry being a place of love? "That is true. Though as you said earlier, people are people, some good and some bad." He can't exactly hide that he's, if not of Tevinter birth, at least been raised there.

"There's a good lad." Adeline says fondly, and then nods, "You take care of yourself, Ariston. I should really get these supplies back." She lifts her right shoulder, indicating the bag there. "It has been good to meet you. And while there are bad people, and good, everywhere, the Chanters, at least, are generally just happy to have someone to do the tasks they need done."

Ariston chuckles. "There is that," he agrees, his tone amused. "I suppose lightening the load would improve any negative opinions of me. It's not as though I have complaints about doing 'menial' work." He grins. "Thank you again for your generosity, my lady. Please do take care of yourself as well. If you need me do ask around. They can usually get hold of me at the Lowtown Inn, if so."


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