Before the Madness

Log Info

• Title: Before the Madness

• Emitter: Patch

• Characters: Aelwyn, Patch, Ravenstongue, Ygraine

• Place: The TarRaCe

• Summary: It's a late night at the TarRaCe, and the Bardic College is on the precipice of the annual Midnight Madness! Patch is at the TarRaCe, watching her mentor perform on the stage, when she encounters Ygraine, who is also there to enjoy the music. The two chat for a while before Ravenstongue comes in with Pothy, and all three Ceinarans excitedly chatter and give Pothy plenty of snacks and attention. Aelwyn drops by with the snacks and makes sure that Pothy enjoys them.

TarRaCe Main Room - Late Night (11:00pm)

The sound of a reed fed saxophone can be heard in waves that escape the building even when the door is closed! Diggle Foxly is having a performance, an old Gobbo who had seen better days. He may be old with age, warty, and a bit nearsighted, but his lungs and lips could still play a masterful and playful tune. He's all of 4'3", a bit portly, but dressed for success! Those who know him, know him from the Bardic College, a professor, and astute academic.

Patch is among the crowd, sitting at a table in her red coat, a hurdy-gurdy resting before her. The 'string box' on its front open as she fiddles with its insides. An ale is before her, half drank, but the night is still young. Her mentor is watched between glances of what she's doing, taking up her space to herself, a perk of being a performer. Though, it leaves little room for others to sit as the balcony above is blocked off as there are no special parties to entertain.

Irshya had let them use the stage, and with her permission the Bardic College has been somewhat abusing it. A chance to test music on a crowd before the 'Midnight Madness' fun begins in a few days. It is the festival season!

It is perhaps no surprise that there are other adherents of Ceinara among the crowd... and at least one of those is an empowered Muse. Having secured a spot for herself where she can see both the stage and the statues of the goddesses, Ygraine looks to be very much in her element. She's clutching a large tankard in both hands, with a happy smile on her lips as one foot taps cheerfully along in time to the music. She's clad in her swashbuckling finery, with tailored leathers and a fancy rapier and buckler, but her short cape is secured with a brooch in the form of a flame-wrapped wreath... and among the more martial accoutrements a finely-wrought wooden case suitable for a flute might be spotted hanging from her belt as if it were a counter-part to her blade and shield.

Diggle's performances always have several interludes. He'll play a song, another person will take a turn while he has a drink, and then another small set is done. As the tune winds down, people break from their tables to go order drinks, calls being thrown to the waitstaff as Diggle makes haste to use the 'facilities'.

Patch doesn't make to move, staying still among the break and its chaos. She's partially distracted with her hurdy-gurdy, but something has her look up amongst the crowd. It's hard not to watch people during the break, it's a hobby. That means Ygraine is noticed, and the human woman is flashed a small smile. Even a wink if an eye is caught in her glance. It is called swashbuckler 'finery'. It's noticed.

"I see an instrument over there!" Patch calls towards Ygraine, a teasing question that's meant to probe. The bard is being a bit cheeky, perhaps already having had more than one drink. "A flute. Very practical."

Ygraine starts in surprise, before laughing rather self-consciously. Raising her tankard in playful toast, she cracks a grin as she shrugs broadly. A moment's hesitation, then she opts to move closer, rather than inflicting a raised-voice conversation upon those nearby. "I can claim precious little skill with it, compared to what we have just been hearing!", she notes amiably. "But I do enjoy playing, when I have access to a forgiving audience! How about yourself - are you here to play?"

"I did earlier. Might again. I don't know!" Patch calls over the ruckus of the bar, shaking her head at what Ygraine chimes with a laugh. "I wasn't picking about your flute. If you wanted to know. It's pragmatic, and makes sense if you're an adventurer." she notes, a moment taken with a furrowed brow as she fiddles with her strings. "The music might have to wait." she says with a shrug after. "A hurdy-gurdy takes a lot. I've lugged it into a few crazy situations, but it's just not practical. At all."

Taking the risk of closing the distance to come right up to the edge of Patch's table, Ygraine peers down into the exposed portions of Patch's instrument. "I would hardly know where to start, were I to need to repair that - let alone while out in the field! My flute, I rarely dare to bring with me lest it comes to harm... but for longer journeys, it *certainly* comes along. Which is something that a number of my companions might have come to regret, I fear!"

Shifting her grip, she transfers the full weight of her tankard to her off-hand so that she can offer her right to the bard. "Ygraine. A - very minor - Muse of Ceinara. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"There is a trick." Patch muses, taking Ygraine's hand in her own. It's small, calloused, but her grip is still soft. "Sit down. Company is welcome." she says, not yet revealing what she meant with her first words. "I'm called Patch. It's always a pleasure to meet a fellow purveyor of music."

"A 'minor' muse? Well, that's okay. I consider myself a wandering voice, but really I don't understand Vaire at all." using the Llyranesi word for the goddess. "I can talk to her, pray, and while I can touch and channel the hymn? Nothing. It's like she laughs and watches, helping only when it suits her humor." a sudden wink. "I'd have it no other way."

"As for the trick? I could us magic, but I don't want to." Patch says, admitting some laziness.

Setting down her drink, Ygraine flashes a warm grin as she maneuvers carefully onto a chair - one hand neatly guiding her sword to avoid dangerous entanglements with either her seat or anyone nearby. "Thank you. I appreciate the kind welcome. And I still rather often find myself rather dazedly *wondering* about quite how and why Ceinara decided that I merited her favour. I am very glad indeed that she did, but I do worry about actually making good use of it!"

"Does it really matter why if the touch is appreciated and accepted?" Patch asks, her string-box closed. It's time for ale. Her cup is taken up, and she sips from it as she eyes Ygraine from over her instrument. "Inspiration, art, and beauty all come in so many forms. The hymn touches all of it. Each follower a unique flower, tool, instrument, or sword that she has come to fancy and cherish."

"Might just be me romanticizing a bond with a goddess that doesn't speak in return, but it's still intimate." Patch says with another wink.

Ygraine nods eagerly, smiling happily in response to Patch's words - leaning forward a little over the table, as her hands wrap around her tankard once more. "I spent over a year living in Tref, because I found the process of creating not just a new town but a new *society* to be utterly inspiring. And I wanted to offer what small help I could. For me, inspiration is at its very best when it leads to something *tangible*... though the beauty of an inspired performance can certainly bring about lasting change in listeners. It's the impact rather than the form, that matters most, I think. And we should absolutely be open to finding inspiration throughout our lives, I believe."

It appears the TarRaCe is destined to be stuffed to the gills tonight with followers of the Lady of Inspiration, as the door opens, and Cor'lana's voice enters first before she does, dressed in a long violet cloak and a black woolen dress to match. "--be patient, Pothy," the sorceress says.

"SNACKS!" the white raven declares. He soars in, but the bird catches sight of two people he knows! Known snack-givers and affection-givers! So he lands by them both, his tail wagging up and down as he croaks a soft little hello.

Cor'lana sighs a little, but smiles as she sees just who it is that Pothy's trying to schmooze with. "Hello sister, hello Muse," she calls out as she approaches both of them. "Vaire's verse with you both."

Something Ygraine said has Patch jumping in her seat and snapping her fingers. "Right! Inspiration, and a desire to build. It could be a painting. Baking bread. Art is in the soul, not in the medium." the dawn elf clearly having opinions. Every follower of Ceinara seems to have one.

"Being open to inspiration is the first step of creation. Hymn basics." Patch agreeing with Ygraine with a bobbing nod. "Or, I'd like to think so."

It's about then the Cor'lana and Pothy are noticed, caught off guard at their appearance. "Sister!" and excited tone. Yes, not her usual drab and dry. "And a Pothy!" the bard's tone lowering with a bravado and tease. "Come, join us. You know Ygraine?" she asks. "Should we order something to nibble?"

Diggle has composed himself again. The night's lull wasn't met with another artist to pick up slack, but the goblin saxophonist really needed a break. As the crowd begins to settle once more, orders for food and drink have been made, he plays. Just not as loudly as before.

In the midst of nodding happy agreement to Patch's words, Ygraine jumps slightly in surprise, looking around quickly... before laughing and offering the raven a broad, warm grin as he lands. "Hello there, Pothy. May I stroke you again?", she asks politely - releasing her tankard with one hand, but not yet moving to touch the bird. Instead, she offers a small wave and a happy smile to Cor'lana. "It is good to see you again. And I suspect that arranging for some extra food might be appreciated."

"Yes, the Muse and I know each other by happenstance," Cor'lana replies with a grin. She goes to give Patch a brief hug hello. "Yes, we will absolutely need--"

"Snacks!" Pothy autocompletes, before flapping onto Ygraine's shoulder--it's an open roost, after all--to receive his affection. Thankfully, his talons are not sharp nor are they strong enough to pierce fabric nor skin.

Cor'lana looks off to the stage for a moment, observing the saxophonist. "Nice to see the stage here is active. I'm guessing that's why both of you are here? I... admittedly stopped by on my way home from a poetry reading, because Pothy wanted food, and I thought, 'Well, it's been a moment--surely we can stop in for a bit'. Now we're here."

"That's the best kind of surprise then." Patch says to Cor'lana, grinning as a finger rises to rub and play at a spot under Pothy's beak. "But first we must pay the tax." her attention short-lived as she stands and moves to pull out a seat for Cor'lana. "You and the Muse catch up. I'll go order us something."

It seems the bard was serious, and she wastes little time to go and speak to the bar about having several mixed plates sent to the table. She's comfortable here, knowing the barkeeps name and dawdling to make idle chatter. Irshya runs a good business, and it shows.

As for Diggle? He smirks as a note is belted out with a winding tone, notes flowing up and down with the flutter of his fingers. Enjoying his time to entertain despite his advanced age.

Giggling - and glad of the protection provided by her fancy leathers, so that she does not need to worry about talons (at least so long as the raven sticks to her shoulders) - Ygraine carefully reaches up to stroke Pothy's belly, before inviting him to butt into the palm of her hand as he did last time.

"Thank you!", she calls after Patch, then grins at Cor'lana. "I am glad to see you. And... in many ways, I find this to be a wonderful haven in which to renew my sense of my Lady's inspiration. I love coming here, to *experience* it. And I hope that she enjoys it, too." She nods cheerfully in the direction of the trio of statues of the goddesses.

The belly feather strokes are especially welcomed by Pothy, his tail wagging up and down very happily for this specific brand of affection. He makes low little croaks that suggest he is very pleased with the Muse's pets.

"I am glad to meet you both here," Cor'lana replies with a smile. "It's true, the TarRaCe is a nice place, although I have to admit I'm sentimental for the Fernwood. That was where Telamon and I had our first date--although, I didn't realize it was a date at the time."

That comment makes Pothy... Groan? Yes, he groans, imitating a man who is fed up. "Dense," he then says in Cor'lana's voice.

"The Fernwood? It's okay. I don't know, it's not as lively as I'd like." Patch offers, returning to the conversation as she is done with placing an order. She'd been walking back to the table as she overheard some of the talk. Clearly. "It has a charm, but I think I agree with the Muse." a sauntering step taken once she's near her seat, dramatically dropping into it with a plop before her hurdy-gurdy.

"Dense or not, it worked out in the end." Patch points out to Pothy, grinning. "A tray of fruits and some cheeses are coming. I had a dinner with Stjepan, so I thought mostly of snacks."

After momentarily bracing herself for Pothy's response to someone mentioning the S-word, Ygraine then grins again - and resumes stroking, happy to be guided by the raven as to where best to focus her ministrations. "I might be considered rather heavily biased in favour of the TarRaCe... but I shall have to try visiting the Fernwood, if you think well of it, Cor'lana. And in my - far-from-expert - opinion, I rather suspect that a great many romances start in a fashion that the participants did not at the time realise was at all romantic!"

It takes some unmentioned amount of minutes, but eventually a collection of plates and a fresh bottle of water arrives by the table. Carefully balanced by a ruddy scaled sith-makar; those autumn scales once again ruefully hid away by the white blouse. A black loincloth/slash/apron holds his notepads and pens; and his brand new bloody red separate cuffs hang off his wrists.

"And the Bard's desire," The Dragoon replies as he leans over Patch's shoulder with a tooth filled grin, "Prepared for devouring." He rumbles by the pierced ear, before he moves to settle down the cutler. "Muse," He bows his head with a flick of his tail, and then over Ravenstongue. "... Snacks." He finally manages, giving Pothy a brief glance.

Pothy does direct Ygraine up to scratch his fluffy mass of throat feathers by gently taking one of Ygraine's fingers in his beak and directing her hand up to his throat feathers. The white raven lets out a truly content series of noises.

There's a little blush that finds Cor'lana's cheeks as she seems to recall that evening in the Fernwood. "Well, I lived... a sheltered existence before I came to Alexandria," she explains to Ygraine. "I hardly spoke to anyone besides my mother and Pothy as I grew up. Being a half-elf anywhere that they're not used to having them is... difficult, so I never had much opportunity to date, and it was easier for me to read romance books and happily assume I'd never know what that was like--because it was all fiction. Someone's fantasy that they conjured."

She grins a little. "Which is to say that I have delightfully been proven wrong since then. Even if I did show up to that dinner date looking worn down and wearing the exact same clothes that I was wearing when I met Telamon."

Then Cor'lana looks very amused when Aelwyn addresses her as 'Snacks'. "Good evening, Aelwyn," she says. "Good shift so far?"

"It's Pothy's desire. Just my coin." Patch muses to Aelwyn, her drink near finished as she reclaims it. "I could take a refill though, wasn't thinking of that at the time." she muses, downing the last bit of her mug, and choosing the water the Makari brought. It's time to stop the drinking. Gasp!

"I had suspected you were sheltered, but not such as I." Patch observes of Cor'lana with a grin. "I think you a far cry more civil and social than I. Proper too." she teases as an eye flicks to Ygraine and Pothy, pushing a tray of snacks towards the bird. "That's a lesson on not to assume. I had time for friends when I was young."

Laughing, Ygraine nods a happy greeting to their reptilian server. "Aelwyn. It is good to see you tonight," she says warmly... before shooting Cor'lana a look that mingles pronounced amusement with real sympathy. Taking care to continue letting Pothy feel suitably adored, she nods gently. "My family were diplomats, throughout my own childhood. I, ahh, met rather a lot of disreputable types in the course of that! And also had the chance to see genuine romance in action, every now and then. The contrast between the joy people could achieve if they pursued their dreams and the... alternatives... well. It helped to turn me towards Ceinara in the first place."

Aelwyn bows his head towards Ravenstongue, "Shift?" He glances around the table, then back towards Ravenstongue. "This one feels the latest shift has been but good."

The draconian's eyes fall over Patch, momentarily studying, before he places his hand on his hip. "A just coin can still linger with desire. How has the Bard's performance been tonight?"

Ygraine also receives another bow from his head, "Peace in her nest, as well. This one trusts the TarRaCe has treat her well tonight?"

"The only friend I had was Pothy," Cor'lana replies, although she softens the statement as she looks at the bird with a warm smile. Pothy descends onto the snack tray and quickly takes up the cheese. "Although he was like a little brother to me at times, and that is why I call him such on occasion--and why he was who Telamon and I chose to paint the curuchuil onto our hands."

Pothy pauses in snack-eating for just a moment to declare, "Twoo wuv," imitating someone from somewhere. Those are his thoughts on the matter, and... he returns to his snacks. Very important, you see.

Cor'lana smirks a little. "No wonder you get along with Telamon," she replies to Ygraine. "His father's a diplomat, too. That being said, Patch here has described my story with Telamon as being a... What is it you've said before, sister? 'Prince and princess tale'?"

She looks to Aelwyn and nods. "I just got here a little bit ago, but it seems the fellow on stage was fairly good at his instrument. I fear the only instrument I know is the verse to judge quality."

As Diggle is wrapping up one of his slower routines, his hand motions to Patch where she sits. It seems to be some cue of sorts, her instrument snatched up as she looks between the others. "It's time to put some things away. Foxly's tired, and I promised to walk with him back to the campus." her mentor's song through sending her scrambling to find their cases and get their belongings together. "And to answer you, Aelwyn. It went well, but I will have to share the details with you another time." an apologetic smile flashed to the other women at the table. "Work calls. Sorry." turning to be on her way. "Perhaps when I'm not busy we should all have tea!" she calls in her retreat, leaving her half-drank water on the table.

Making an internal note to *try* to remember to find out whether 'peace on one's nest' was something that should be wished to all sith-makar or if it was specifically for females and would be insulting to say to Aelwyn, Ygraine smiles gratefully at the waiter... only to find herself giggling once again at Pothy. She gives him another affectionate stroke, before nodding warmly to Patch. "It was a pleasure to meet you. Truly," she happily informs the bard.

Looking back to Aelwyn, she flashes a smile. "Does duty urgently call, or would you feel able to join us for a few moments? Solely if you would like to, of course." Then to Ravenstongue, she offers a cheery grin. "Oh, him too? And that sounds like a rather lovely ceremony. I'm glad that you had someone so magnificent - and loved - to play such a role for you."

"Fairly good? A high standard is being set there, bringer of Snacks." The draconian rumbles in response to Cor'lana, carrying a sharp toothed rin on his face.

Aelwyn tilts his head as Patch darts off like that, but he begins to pick up her cutlery and half-finished glass off the table before he gets interrupted. "Just a few moments? Tch, is this one's company such a short flicker?" He teases, before he turns his head towards Ravenstongue, tilting his head questioningly. Then at Pothy. Probably should start with Pothy.

Cor'lana smirks a little as Patch departs. "She is a free spirit who deigns us with her presence only as long as she permits," she replies to Aelwyn. "You mistake it for a flicker when it is in fact a minor miracle."

It appears her head for poetry has lingered from the poetry reading she attended earlier. That being said, Pothy has little on his mind, save for snacks. He continues to tear into his cheese.

"I am fortunate in many ways to have Pothy in my life," Cor'lana responds with a grin. She reaches out and strokes Pothy on his back. "He is a good bird, a good friend, and a good 'little brother'. Even if he is older than me."

Ygraine shoots Aelwyn an amused *look*, before chuckling and nodding. "I am trying to be good, and *not* encourage you to stop working and simply settle down with us - unless you are indeed free to do so! And... heh. Does Pothy have some talent for turning food into magic? I am truly impressed with the amount he can put away!" Or, more specifically, put away and still retain the ability to fly... though she opts not to risk saying that explicitly. "But I am glad to have met Patch. I *think* I heard her name mentioned recently, and it is in any case always a pleasure to stumble across another adherent of my Lady!"

Aelwyn tilts his head, "The passing chord of the Bard is familiar to this one. When one lives for performance, what else but the moment?" The Dragoon asks, but then after a brief consideration, tilts his head the other way. "Yet the flow of life seems to wind its own peculiar ways."

Settling down on the seat, he offers Ygraine a toothy grin. "The only shackle is the coin they promised to pay. It seems the Muse has already woven herself into the fabric of this city's life once more."

"Then I will pay her tab," Cor'lana offers with a smirk. "After all, she is my chosen sister, and it's often the responsibility of family to care for each other."

She looks to Ygraine and nods, smirking still. "Pothy converts everything he eats into miniscule amounts of mana--not enough to cast even the most minor of spells," she says. "I had a friend look at him once with arcane sight and observe him while eating, and that's what we discovered. In fact, the only time I've ever observed him to be full was when he raided the kitchen of a conjured mansion--the food was conjured and therefore was already more mana than he's used to housing in his little body."

Pothy looks woozy at the mention of it. "Snacks," he murmurs bitterly. His one and only defeat.

Ygraine blink-blinks, then laughs - giving Pothy another stroke. "I honestly had not expected to be so accurate in my joking guess! That's rather wonderful." She giggles, then grins at Aelwyn. "I am trying to, yes. I do need to track down a few people, if I can... both to apologise for my absence in some cases, and to pursue old projects in others. But I am *hoping* that I can make myself useful once again."

Aelwyn waves a hand at Ravenstongue, "The coin will be paid. Sooner or later." He resists the sudden urge to steeple his fingers. He glances over towards Pothy, but then his orange eyed gaze returns over its owner. "This one was not aware one could chooser their sisters." He lets out a low rumble, "Then again, who is this one to judge? His family was a troupe on the road."

The human at the table yields a tilt of his head. "Every city has something that someone could be useful for, Muse can surely reserve her hope for the future. This one is certain a case for it will come." He offers a toothy display of teeth.

"You can and you will," Cor'lana promises to Ygraine, "although I would suggest refraining from thinking of yourself as useful and more that your actions could be useful. Speaking from experience--it tends to result in a healthier state of mind."

She looks to Aelwyn and smiles. "I have, at any rate," she says. "There are members of my family who I am related to by blood, and then there are others who I have deemed to be family by bonds of closeness. I do not think that blood is the only means of making a family."

The sorceress pats Pothy on the head, giving him a fond little look. "But don't let me dominate the table-talk with my opinions," she says. "Or let Pothy dominate the snack tray. Although he is better lately about sharing."

Blushing somewhat, Ygraine meekly ducks her head to Cor'lana... before finding another grateful smile for Aelwyn. "Thank you. Both of you," she says as quietly as the background noise permits. One hand reaches out to carefully snare a morsel for herself to nibble on, trusting to Pothy to share - at least now that his companion has indicated that he should!

"I am inclined to agree with that notion, regarding family. And I... I admit that I do find it hard to have much faith that what I try to do will actually turn out well. I find it all too easy to see all the ways in which I have not done what I had hoped to, and in which things could yet go wrong even if they have not done so already.... But I do very much hope that at least some of what I do does truly help others, whether or not I see it doing so myself."

"Tch, a worry for tomorrow has no place for the worries for today." Aelwyn says with a wave of his hand. "That is," The draconian leans forward and stares at Pothy. "... does are revered patron enjoy their snacks?"

Turning his head towards Cor'lana, the draconian looks with a curiously long gaze. "Hmmh. It does depend on what the family is for in the end, does it not?"

Pothy, of course, shares! He even seems to enjoy that he's sharing snacks, his tail wagging up and down again happily. "Snacks!" he declares to Aelwyn. That is a happy bird and a happy endorsement of the TarRaCe fare.

Cor'lana smiles a little, almost knowingly so. "Family is what you make it. Your definition of a family will differ from mine just a tad, Aelwyn. Mine consists of some blood cousins, a dearly revered ancestor, a raven, a chosen uncle, a chosen sister, and the man who I will start a family with one day." Her violet eyes sparkle. "Far more family than I had when I came here to Alexandria."

She looks over to Ygraine. "Hope is the best thing you could have. Hope is what brought me here to Alexandria, once I dared to have it, and it saved my life. So long as you carry that with you, the rest will follow."

"Thank you," Ygraine murmurs to Pothy, favouring him with a smile... before nodding to both her companions. "You are, each of you, very kind. And... I have spent much of the past couple of years trying to assist my blood-kin. Now, I hope that I am back among the family-by-choice, and can provide some meaningful aid to them. While perhaps throwing in a little more, ahh, 'general' aid and heroic endeavour too! But for the time being, snacks and music and fine company are very welcome indeed!"

"Hmmh, this one suspects his family differs quite a bit from others'." The ruddy sith-makar 'smiles' - though there didn't seem to be too much warmth in that split cheeked, sharp toothed grin. Picking up a piece of cutlery to swing between his fingers, he turns towards Ygraine. "This one believes Muse worries too much over over what she should do - as the lady of Snacks said, have a little hope for the future."

The Dragoon then stands up and begins to clear away the unused dishes, sliding them up on his arms with ease. "May the TarRaCe be a warm place tonight." He bows his head with a flourish of red ribbons, and twists on his step, tail swaying behind him with his rolling stride as he leaves the women to their discussion. And Pothy to the snacks.