Vaire's Verses

Log Info

• Title: Vaire's Verses

• Emitter: Ravenstongue

• Characters: Patch, Ravenstongue, Stjepan

• Place: The TarRaCe

• Summary: It's evening at the TarRaCe when Ravenstongue and Pothy walk in. Stjepan's already having something to eat there when Patch also walks in. Upon learning that Patch is acquainted with Stjepan, Ravenstongue discusses the unsuccessful poetry slam that led her here. Patch and Stjepan both remark that they've never heard Cor'lana's poetry, so she gets on the stage and recites a poem to a warm reception.

The TarRaCe, evening.

Cold--very cold indeed. But that's the name of any night ending in 'y' that happens to fall within the confines of a late autumn on the cusp of winter's cold gaze. And a warm establishment is the best place to ward off the chill.

Cor'lana and Pothy make their way to the TarRaCe from the direction of the Theatre District. The sorceress is holding a bouquet of flowers and looks rather merry as she steps inside the building. "Didn't win this time," she says to Pothy, "but it was nice to receive flowers from fans."

Pothy makes a throat-clearing noise, which suggests he's more miffed that she didn't win. However, the familiar perks up as Cor'lana finds a table. "Snacks," he demands.

"Yes, yes, Pothy, we'll get snacks," Cor'lana says with a chuckle. "We shouldn't stay out too late, though. Tel might get worried."

Stjepan is snugly and securely ensconced in the Tarrace, plates of finger-food spread out in front of him. He's got his feet up on another chair, leaning back as he cradles a flagon of mulled wine. When Cor'lana and Pothy come in, he raises his wine in their general direction as a greeting.

From the cold also comes Patch. The door opens easily and slowly, even before the elven woman is near it. Yes, it just eases open on its own, and then the red-clad bard enters with a flick of finger and wrist. "Finish!" she calls with a grin, and it shuts after. She's always loved to use her innate magics, an entrance never missed, or a door she's never had to touch.

For those who have seen her red coat, it is now more adorned than before. It sports some yellow-gold cords on her right shoulder, and the emblem of the Bardic College upon a pin that's lodged in the breast and fabric of its front. Patch looks about the TarRaCe, spotting Cor'lana first, and the Stjepan. Upon her head is her 'fool's cap', or a jester's crown. One made of leather, but still having several dangles and bells that ring when she walks. "Sister!" the first one noticed greeted. "And a Pothy." crossing to their table.

The second glance is for Stjepan, even following it with a polite and small wave. "Stjepan, star-watcher."

"Sister!" Cor'lana greets in kind, springing up from her chair to offer Patch a hug as she places the bouquet of flowers on the table. "I was just at the Theatre District--don't tell me I managed to miss you there. Decided to head back to one of the poetry slams, but I didn't even place this time. Stiff competition."

Pothy scoffs. "Biased judges," he says in Telamon's voice. Of course Pothy would be rooting for his mistress all the way... But then he spots Stjepan and flaps over to him, too, landing on the table between the plates. "Snacks?"

Cor'lana blinks twice as she also realizes that Stjepan is here--granted, this is usually the way that she realizes Stjepan is here. "Oh, you know Stjepan, too, sister?" she asks, a small grin spreading on her face. "Small world, I suppose."

Stjepan waggles his fingers at Patch, with a grin. "Fancypatch!" He pushes the plates at Pothy. "Here -- eat-up." A grin, and a shrug. "I'm hard to notice and difficult to find in a crowd -- so it's an even bigger miracle. Of course you both know each other!" He sips his wine, then glances at Patch. "That's a new pin on your jacket."

Patch bobs her head to Stjepan's words, grinning. "It is!" a smile on her features as she wheels in her heels to face Cor'lana.

"I had an induction ceremony to attend on campus." Patch admits, taking a free seat and inviting herself to the table. "My academics and research left enough of an impression for them to offer me an official position." wiggling a brow, and thumbing the fabric of her jacket. "I'm an acolyte, one in service to the college, but it's a first step." she offers, sitting. "It was pretty boring though, I'd imagine the poetry was better. While it's nice, I don't stand much on formality."

"As for Stjepan? He and I are very well acquainted. A good friend, and drinking partner."

Patch's words on Stjepan gets a giggle out of Cor'lana. "I'm glad," she says. "Stjepan was actually one of the first people I met when I came to Alexandria. That's why Pothy just flew up to him demanding snacks like it was nothing--I don't think you've ever denied him a meal, have you, Stjepan?"

"Snacks!" Pothy answers for Stjepan. He tucks into a plate of sliced cheeses. For a normal bird, this would be an ill-advised snack... but for Pothy, it's fine.

Cor'lana points to Pothy with a thumb as she takes a seat at the table, too. "See what I mean?" she says with a grin. "Now, that's exciting news! I'm so happy you got an official position with the college, Sister. Clearly, I'll have to write a poem in your honor to present at the next event I attend."

"I'm terrible at denying birds and elves snacks, as it turns out." Stjepan admits. He also picks the odd piece of cheese off his table, as well. "Success looks good on you, Patch, just like the jacket." There's a pause. "I don't think I've heard your poetry, Cor'lana, admittedly."

"He does offer me snacks. A lot." Patch says of Stjepan, confirming his words. "It's always food, or drink." a grin there as she looks to the Jotun with a wink.

"A poem? I'd come to hear it. It's not my craft, words being something I lack compared to some." Patch readily says, giggling as she hides her lips with a hand in response to Cor'lana "Name the place and time!" she says, serious even with the mirth.

"My first assignment is to oversee the midnight madness. It's coming up in a few weeks, and people are wanting to leave their marks. I am still planning mine."

Patch corrects with another half-laugh. "Help oversee."

Cor'lana looks a little bashful. "Well," she says, "I'm not that great at it. But it's something that Telamon and I have been doing for a while as a hobby. Occasionally I can prod him into coming with me to events, although he has his hands full with his own interests in alchemy and with the Shining Chalice."

Pothy stares at Cor'lana, pausing mid-snack to deliver this stare. "Poem," he says in her own voice. But it sounds like a demand.

That gets Cor'lana a little flustered. "Oh, goodness. Pothy, I couldn't read my poetry here. Not now! I already spent my nerve for the evening reading earlier."

Stjepan grins back at Patch, "I mean, I can branch out a little if you like." He offers a small sausage to Pothy, "Gentle." He grins at 'lana, "Why not? Grab a drink, get your nerve back, and let fly. It's friendly 'round here."

"The man has a point, Sister." Patch says in a tone of full agreement. "Why not?" looking about the TaRraCe and fixating on the stage. "We have room, and Irshya wouldn't mind at all. She likes it when people entertain the guests." she chimes, shifting forward in her seat. "It's not as scary as people think. Really."

"Pothy would never steer you wrong." Patch assures, raising a hand to flag down some of the waitstaff. "A drink for courage still is welcome." the server soon making a round to the table. "I'd like a mead or something sweet. It's been a nice night." motioning to Cor'lana if she'd like to order.

Pothy happily takes the sausage from Stjepan--gently, as requested--and he tips it back into his mouth. It slides smoothly down his gullet. "Snack," he says, his tail wagging happily again.

It appears that this is the typical model of the Stjepan-Pothy relationship. Meanwhile, Cor'lana gives in and orders a little glass of wine--something to fortify her courage. "Alright, but neither of you get to complain if I pick a poem about Telamon," she says with a little smirk. "They're not all sappy love poems, but I won't lie: a lot of them are. I am a newly-married bride, after all."

Stjepan waves a hand, "I don't mind at all," he affirms with a big smile that he shares with Pothy. He nods to Patch, "Hey, you get to watch someone else, too, like the saxaphonist." He's very relaxed. "Anyone else hungry -- before Pothy eats it all?"

"Diggle Foxli." Patch notes to Stjepan with a nod. "He is rather talented. Guy has lungs that could just...." her smile broadening with a roll of her eyes to Stjepan. She leaves the sentence unfinished. "The offer of food is kind, but I had a bit of dinner earlier with Slix."

As for the orders of drinks? Taken. The server is off to the bar, and Patch is watching after them. "No judging. Poems aren't always to be judged. Some things are personal, and should never be poked at."

GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Perform/Oratory: (16)+14: 30

"Thank you, Stjepan, but I'll pass on the food, too," Cor'lana says with a small smile. "It's been a while since Pothy has gotten to have a feast with you, after all, and I wouldn't dare deny him all of the foodstuffs that you and he can eat."

Once the server returns with drinks, Cor'lana takes hers. She draws in a breath and... downs almost half in one go. "Alright, then," she says, placing the glass back down on the table. "A poem it'll be."

Pothy stops eating, his blue eyes trained on the sorceress as she makes her way onto the stage where there'd normally be a band performing. She takes a breath, and she recites:

"How long has it been in the span of seconds--

The time that passed since our souls were spun

From the golden threads of life and of love,

The time that passed since our hearts were born

To beat together in equal time and equal rhyme?

Or shall we measure in minutes, in hours, or years

The time that has passed since we met in flesh,

Our chance meeting born on a frosty 'noon

That led a year later to an autumn wedding

Where we vowed together of a love to come

That would span for so many more years to follow.

In truth, it matters not to me how we keep the time--

For time is not promised, and the hours are fleeting.

The question is undone when I look at the garden

That you planted for me in the spring of our love

And I think of all of the springs that are to come."

Stjepan grins at Patch's description. "He can breathe through his ears?" A little shrug, and a blink as he turns to watch Cor'lana do her thing. He listens, and nods along, and then salutes her from his seat, then quaffs a long drink. "Well done."

Patch sips her drink, watching intently as Cor'lana gives her reading. She's stunned by it, scoffing and looking away as the woman begins to come to close. "Amateur? Likely not." the grin wide on the bard's lips as she looks to Stjepan. "She says she's newly acquainted with Vaire, but to me? It's as if they have walked and talked for years. Words are indeed suited to fall from her lips." a warmer, more sincere smile replacing the grin. Patch's cheeks calming as she sets her drinks aside. "Marvelous."

The remarks that Patch and Stjepan give seem to set the tone for the rest of the audience in the TarRaCe that's milling around on a weekday evening. Cor'lana is visually taken aback by the warm reception, but she curtsies and walks back to the table--with a little pep in her step that she can't quite hide, to boot. "I knew I should have read that one at the event today," she remarks as she sits down.

"Bravo! Bravo!" Pothy crows. He flaps up to Cor'lana's shoulder and nuzzles into her hair affectionately. For the moment, Stjepan's assortment of plates is safe.

Stjepan nods, considering quietly. "That was really quite something. You should have -- that was delightful and heartwarming and sweet." A firm nod, as he gathers up some of his own snacks to eat himself while the going is good.

"I'd of called for encore, but I was afraid of what you might pull out next." Patch muses, a glance shot to Pothy. "The Poth is right. Bravo." a finger used to toy with her drink, tipping the cup, but not letting it spill. "I wish my parents had written poetry to one another. Might of solved a lot of things. No, my Father played, and my mother ignored."

Cor'lana gives Stjepan and Patch both a little smile. "I'm just glad it was loved," she says. "It'll be... Almost a year that I've started to write poetry like this with Telamon? I mean, truthfully, I've written things here and there when I was a teenager, but it was hardly poetry." She chases down the sentence with more of the wine in her glass.

She pats Pothy on his little head. "My parents certainly didn't write poetry to each other, either, Sister," she says. "They only knew each other for less than a year before they split rather suddenly when I was born. Happens when you're born on the run, I suppose."

Stjepan makes a sudden, amused face at something that Patch says, which then sours a little over the continuation, and nods. "If mine did, they didn't share it with us -- but that's also up to them." He stretches. "It's nice when its shared, though."

"Apologies, Cor'lana. I know your upbringing somewhat mirrors my own." Patch says, attempting to sigh, but Stjepan's words causing her to laugh instead. "Jotun's and poetry? I wonder if it would be about mountains, boulders, and skies of snow." again teasing the man, but the tone isn't snide. It's just a playful poke. "If they're anything like you, I bet they're good and funny people."

"The dour topic flits through the mind. More, I think those words were inspiring of love." The bard says casually.

"No, no, the snow goes on the ground, and it's an excellent reason to stay inside with a blanket." Stjepan trails off a little, and sighs, "Yes, they were good people." He takes another long drink, leaning back. "Not that mountains aren't nice to climb, one boulder at a time."

Cor'lana offers a smile to Patch. "It's okay," she says. "Our mirrored upbringings are part of why I have come to call you Sister, after all. The happiness that I have now is worth all of it--and I occasionally get to make other people feel sick from the sweet words I write about it."

Pothy makes a sound like a sigh. "True love," he says in the voice of a very young child. Then he turns his attention back to Stjepan's snacks, flapping back onto the table. The jotun has to be helped, after all.

"You know, the snow point is an excellent bit of logic I use against Telamon all the time," Cor'lana says, a grin finding her face. "He complains constantly about the cold and the dour weather. I always remind him that it's the prime conditions to stay inside and cuddle up together under a blanket."

"Maybe he likes the reminding. Or he's sly and coaxing you into thinking it's your idea." Patch says with a suddenly devilish grin. "He's too good to play such games, but if it were I?" a sip of her drink as she turns to regard Stjepan.

"I do like a warm bed on the colder nights, but." a grin flashed as she leans to whisper to the Jotun. "All the excitement, I haven't gotten the damned thing fixed yet."

The suggestion that it's all Telamon's idea intrigues Cor'lana. She snickers into her glass as she empties it. "Mmm, I don't know," she says. "He can be awfully mischievous when he wants to be. But so can I."

She looks at Pothy. "What do you think, Pothy? Who's the evil mastermind between the two of us? Me, or Telamon?"

Pothy looks up from his snacks. He just stares at Cor'lana for a long moment. There's a look of deep peril in his eyes, like he's suddenly anxious about giving the wrong answer--

"Snacks." He returns to eating. The only winning move is not to play.

Stjepan's dimples show. "I mean, there are simple ways to resolve that. I am happy to consult." Eyes twinkle at Patch. "Telamon seems like a smart person, though, who should be able to figure that out. Two evil masterminds are, clearly, better than one."

"Mm, wise decision Pothy. Now that they're married, some allegiance to both is warranted." Patch says with a bit of humor, her grin broadening as she opens her mouth to speak, but Stepjan's words cause her to snort a laugh before instead. "Oh, 'consult' you say?" a slight flush as she fans her face. Cheeks darken, her birthmark with it. "It wasn't even your fault!" their conversation going on some tangent between them.

"Anyways. Yes. Snacks was the appropriate answer. I think the two can have their duel until one wins."

"I think both of us would be winners, wouldn't we?" Cor'lana surmises. "I mean, it's just like when Telamon taught me pickpocket. I conceded the whole game when he started taking off his shirt--but we both were victors, in a sense."

Pothy just sighs. This is what he has to live with. The snack-loving bird decides he has had his full and returns to Cor'lana's shoulders. "Sleepytime!" he announces in Cor'lana's own voice.

Cor'lana offers the table a playful roll of the eyes. "Sorry, you two," she says. "It appears my Pothy-curfew has just arrived. I should get going home."

"My fees are reasonable, my solutions are clever and bring results," Stjepan just grins at Patch. "That's the best part!" He nods to Pothy, "Snacks," he agrees sagely. "Sounds like everybody wins there, Cor'lana. Good to see you!"

Patch eyes Cor'lana with sudden interest, her drink raised and sipped. Yes, green eyes watch as the woman speaks of 'shirtless' pickpocketing husbands, and then it ends. No conclusion, no elaboration. "Sleepy time?!" a surprised and shocked tone. "And we were just getting to the good gossip." a faux saddened expression cast. "It's always a snack and run." the Pothy glanced upon. "A story I am owed, Pothy. Next time I will bring snacks, but I will have an end to this tale!"

Afterward, Patch winks to Cor'lana with a grin. "Have a good evening, Cor'lana. If it's okay, I'll be by for tea soon. I Might even bring a friend, or two." an eye shifting to Stjepan.

"You'd be welcome in the conversation. You and I have already discussed some of it." Patch says to the Jotun. "But, for another day."

Stjepan nods curtly to Patch, "That conversation. Yes, I'd love to be a part of it." The serious mask drops onto his face for this one.

Pothy, of course, can't leave Patch on that alone. He flaps over briefly to the bard and nuzzles her face, too. "Promise!" he says, mimicking Cor'lana's voice. The pact is sealed.

Cor'lana returns Patch's grin. "Yes," she says, looking between Stjepan and Patch, "you two should absolutely come by sometime for tea. You know you're welcome over whenever, Sister.--Come on, Pothy, we have a Telamon to cuddle with on this cold night."

Pothy (reluctantly) leaves Patch's shoulder to ride on Cor'lana's, and the sorceress departs with her bouquet of flowers and a little self-esteem high from delivering poetry.