Raccoon in the Kitchen

[Vivian]

Vivian understood that warning well. Don't ever, ever let a client get bored. Bored clients got creative. Creative meant dangerous. Yes, he'd suffered under enough "bored clients" to know that he definitely did not want to make this man comfortable with him. He was much stronger mage, he'd already revealed what he could do, and the man now had a vested interest in keeping him in this bloody house. Well, he could still study here. He didn't have to sell himself, but he did want to get his things. He didn't want to leave the mule stabled any longer than he already had, and there was a high likelihood the stable master in town had quite enough of him paying in blowjobs.

He smiled at his new master. "In what position? I know several." he winked playfully. If he was scared of any man's sexual appetites he wasn't going to be in this business for very much longer. Besides, nobles couldn't top what he'd seen on the streets. Gods no. They all thought they were the worst thing since the birth of the tiger, but Vivian had seen more and worse things than a few ropes being used in the bedroom. Besides, if he slept with this one...he could keep him amused for far longer. Especially while he researched exactly how to give his Mark. It was rather useless if he couldn't actually give the other man what he wanted. Did he seriously want to be put through the same initiation Vivian had, or did he just not know what he was getting into?

He heard the disgust in his voice. Maybe he did.

Vivian chewed his lip. "My name's Vivian. And if I'm going to live here... I'd like to go get my things. I've got a mule stabled a few blocks down, and he's guarding my things." he suggested. "Rich people usually have stables but he's not shy of work. I'm sure there's something he can do around here. He's a clever animal. And I can always work with him in a team if you need something heavier pulled. I make a handsome mule." He smirked. "He'll be a useful training tool in giving you the Mark, anyway."

Maybe if the stranger thought his property was crucial to the Mark, he'd be more amiable. "I'd also like a bath." he folded his arms across his chest. Okay, perhaps a bit pushy, but he had a headache and sleeping it off in a bathtub full of hot water that nine other men hadn't used sounded heavenly.

[Degare]

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The first few notes of a laugh escape the Ferrier at the other’s retort. Rolling his eyes a bit, “I…hm. I’m fairly inconsistent across partners with my tastes, to be honest. At least I have been, recently,” he reveals this with a casual shrug of his shoulders. It’s fairly true– he’s played very different roles with a variety of people over the past five or so years. The elf isn’t even sure what he wants out of partners anymore; his life has taken him in an odd direction of late.

When the other man introduced himself and requested to go fetch his things and his mule, the Veir seemed fairly indifferent at the idea. “Just call me Veir Socorro. I’ll tell you my given name eventually…or not, if you annoy me too much,” he says this with a slight sigh. "As for your things, go ahead and get them. I don’t recommend you take too long, though. I’ve a way of tracking people that’s quite effective, actually. Would hate to have to use that to find you,” there’s audible sarcasm in the last line he spoke. However, it should be noted that while his overall tone is somewhat playful, there’s colder undercurrents that imply he’s entirely serious. “I’m sure there’s plenty I can find for you to do around here that’s useful; the servants would never say no to another helping hand at the very least.”

At the last request, Degare laughs again. The request wasn’t wholly unsurprising given Vivian’s current state. “Sure…find a servant and ask about getting one put together. Just…don’t ask the woman who brought you here. She’s Valran– nobility in her own right, not a servant. The only person she serves here is me, remember that,” he says this almost protectively, as if the thought of somebody else trying to give her orders genuinely bothered him. “I would recommend helping put together your bath with whomever you ask, though, since you also lack a title. It’s only fair. Lastly, if you need to relieve yourself do that in the restroom directly adjacent to where your bath will be. We have plumbing and…if you don’t understand what that is, you can also ask a servant.” The longer he speaks the more vaguely exhausted he sounds as he remembers a variety of things that would be foreign to somebody who’d been living on the street their entire lives. Things he had no patience to deal with.

“By the way, can you read? If not, you ought to learn. Studying magic will be much harder if you can’t.” Remembering one of his newer companions with a similarly poor backstory also cannot read, the Veir considered this question at the very least worth asking.

____

'Thoughts'
"Common Tongue/Speech"
"Raillen Tongue/Speech"
"Silvain Tongue/Speech"

[Vivian]

Vivian smirked. Alright, so the man hadn’t completely shut the door on Vivian being a bed companion. That was a good sign. The more he could ingratiate himself to this noble the more stable he’d be. At the very least he’d have a few days of solid food and sleep. Gods, sleeping in a bed! His fingers itched just thinking about it. He was going to get to stay in this house, and his new master hadn’t even blinked at the mention of storing his things!

Well, he might once he realized how much Bara could eat.

Veir Socorro. A suitably haughty name for a haughty man. Vivian laughed at the idea of being tracked down. His was a sweetly toned laugh, one that might have been charming if it was used genuinely. “Do you really think I’d get out of here just to piss away a bath, safety, a warm bed and a stipend? Clearly you’ve never been poor.” He chuckled. Much as he respected Veir Socorro’s power and the fact that the man scared him stupid, going back to starving and picking ticks out of his scalp wasn’t a much better option.

He listened through the fog of excitement. Help the servants pour him a bath? Of course! How else was he going to gossip and start sowing the seeds? Servants knew everything about their masters, even their secrets. He’d do well to make friends with the staff. The dour woman who had first caught him smacked far too much of her master; he’d avoid her. He’d figure out whatever the hell plumbing was later. It sounded like rich people talk. Relieve himself…what was wrong with saying ‘take a shit’?

Vivian edged toward the door. “Nope, can’t read.” He said playfully. He was becoming distinctly aware of his stomach awakening from all the panic and being tossed about. A cramp threatened to double him over again. “I’ll get my things together and see you this evening then.” He said.

He waited patiently for the other to unlock the door, and made for the front door. Oh no. Something bad was happening. He felt the warning signs; his mouth flooded with saliva and his throat was making uncomfortable movements.

Vivian paused by the front door, carefully removed an ornately manicured bunch of flowers from a large vase, and stuck his face in it. He retched up most of what he’d stolen, filling the vase with a shocking amount of half-digested meat, bread, and various masticated vegetables. He straightened, spat in the vase, wiped his mouth and replaced the flowers with an uncomfortable squishing noise.

“Last time I eat that fast..” he muttered, and hurried out the door.

***

Vivian returned, as promised, later that evening with Bara. The mule was in shockingly good health considering Vivian’s condition; his coat was clean and his feet well cared for. Not a flea or tick in sight, and he was a decent weight. The mule was loaded down with Vivian’s belongings; a few changes of clothing, a tent, Bara’s saddle, and his thief’s kit.

“See? Grass. Real grass.” Vivian patted the draft mule’s neck. The mule’s withers had a good six inches on Vivian, but he stood by his master patiently. Vivian stabled him, pitching him a bin of hay and making sure the water was clean. His saddle he stored in the tack room, and his bag he carried into the house.

“Veir Socorro? I’m back.” Vivian called.

[Degare]

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The Veir chuckles a bit at the other’s retort. “Mhmm, you’re right. Narrowly escaped that fate, I did,”
he says this with a smile and a coy wink. This was delivered partially as a cheap shot but was also a joke about the bizarre circumstances surrounding how his parents…acquired him. One that Vivian, of course, would not understand; rather, it was stated to entertain himself and create a sense of mystery.

When the other replied that he couldn’t read, Degare sighed slightly. That’s two he has to teach to read now. “Ah, alright. I should be able to remedy that provided you’re an amiable student,”
with a slight pause between these two sentiments, “Farewell, then. Remember– don’t take too long,”
this he says much more playfully as he watches the other leave the room.

A deeper sigh leaves him as he thinks about what he’d just agreed to. Yes…he wanted the Mark, but he did wonder what living with this rather eccentric young man would be like. How would it affect his interactions with others? Questions of a similar nature flitted through his mind as he makes his own leave of the room to go rejoin his partner in his bedchambers,

—

A poor, unfortunate maid found the soiled vase. It was a tragic day for her.

—

Later in the day, his lover had left to go feed. Dranoch have a fairly specialized diet and all that. After he’d departed, the Veir busied himself primarily by spending his time playing the piano. With others assigned to handling things back in Boghadar, his time in Amoren could be spent fairly freely.

The Ferrier himself didn’t hear Vivian’s call of his name due to the sound of the instrument he was playing, but Lucia did. Turning a corner in the direction of the voice, she spots the young half elf with crossed arms and raised brow. “Oh, you’re back, huh? I’ll have to ask about what purpose you serve later, then,” she says with a bit of a softer giggle. Her common is fairly heavily accented; those familiar with it would recognize it as Silvain. “Do follow me– I’ll guide you to him,” she’s amiable, if a bit arrogant in her demeanor. As she leads the strange vagrant through the halls of the estate, she stops in front of a door and pushes it open. “In here,” with a playful smile, she makes her leave.

Within this larger study sat a grand piano with the Veir at its bench in the midst of playing.

____

'Thoughts'
"Common Tongue/Speech"
"Raillen Tongue/Speech"
"Silvain Tongue/Speech"

[Vivian]

Vivian studied Lucia. That accent was thick but he recognized it. His mother had been fluent in Silvain; not for anything noble. It just sounded fantastic in bed and men paid a lot for it. Vivian used the same tricks occasionally. Part of him wanted to ask her about it, but he thought better of it. Best they didn’t know he spoke his father’s tongue, just in case they tried to use it to speak behind his back in front of him. He’d caught a few clients planning on either selling him or slitting his throat that way. Always good to have an insurance policy.

He kept silent on the matter of his Mark as well. If Veir Socorro hadn’t told her, then she obviously didn’t need to know. Best she didn’t realize he was anything but a vagrant, and it was better to be dismissed as a bed toy. He could get around a lot easier like that. He followed her placidly, tilting his head when he heard the tinkling sounds coming from the room.

What the devil was that?

It wasn’t unpleasant. The opposite, rather. He felt his ears warming to the stream of sound. Vivian’s eyes were immediately drawn to the piano, but he didn’t dare shatter the music with questions. Music, whether it be bawdy lyrics about a girl’s virtues or badly played guitar at a bar, was rare in his world. Certainly rarer still was this brand, where a huge machine could produce such lovely tones.

Vivian approached respectfully, glancing under the lip of the piano. Tiny hammers struck cords pulled taut to prudence the beautiful music, and it seemed Veir Socorro controlled each note with a tap of his fingers on white squares. His fingers were fleet, dancing along the keys as the music played. Vivian sat on the bench next to him to get a closer look, watching in fascination. He’d never really felt anything for the weird songs prostitutes came up with, but this was emotion and light. It spun around in his head. He could listen to such sounds for hours, and had no intention of bothering Veir Socorro in the middle of a performance.

He waited in patient rapture until the piece ended, and settled his hand delicately on Veir Socorro’s thigh. “That was beautiful.” He said softly, genuinely. He didn’t know if he’d ever be allowed to touch such a machine. There was the juvenile urge to play about on it, making weird noises, but he would have loved to play as Veir Socorro did.

Was this what rich people did? Make enchanting music on disgustingly expensive machines in strange rooms where no one could hear it?

[Degare]

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More often than not, when the Veir played one of his instruments he tended to drift off into a headspace something akin to a daydream. So focused he would be on the delicate movements of his fingers and the music produced by the string’s resonance within the piano that he would often fail to notice movements around him. On his end, that is why he typically preferred to house his instruments in isolated rooms and to go fully undisturbed while he was lost in his blissful reveries. For Degare, his music was a gift from his parents and a hobby he held entirely for his own personal enjoyment.

When the door clicked open, as was typical, he failed to notice. Lucia was entirely aware of how he was when he played, but she was also aware that he’d prefer she drop the half-elf off here as opposed to letting him wander the house. That, and she had about zero interest in watching over him for however long it would take for the Veir to decide he was finished. As the young man stepped further into the room, the Ferrier continued to remain wholly oblivious to his presence.

Vivian’s careful approach had begun just a bit before the song reached its apex; the shorter man sat down beside the Veir as the last forty-five or so seconds of the song drifted towards their end. The Veir had always been a fan of this piece, his mother had played a lot of it when he was young and it took him a while to master. By now, however, he had every note carefully etched within his memory such that he could play it entirely without thought. It reminded him of years past, when he was happy– never failing to pull at the strings of his heart. He always chased those fleeting emotions, clung to those fading memories as time marched on.

When the piece concluded, hands coming to a full stop, he let out a soft sigh and opened amber eyes that had been closed for the entire duration of the song. Taking a deep breath before he speaks, “How long have you been sitting there…?”

____

'Thoughts'
"Common Tongue/Speech"
"Raillen Tongue/Speech"
"Silvain Tongue/Speech"

[Vivian]

“Long enough.” Vivian smiled at the older man. “You play…whatever this is…beautifully.” He didn’t know how to properly articulate how the music had made him feel. It was an overwhelming sense of peace and flow, like watching a fountain. It made his breathing slow and the world fall away. “I didn't know music could make people feel like that.”

Frankly, he hadn’t thought of Veir Socorro as the emotional type. He had begun to dismiss him as a cold hearted bastard who would have peeled the mark off his skin if he thought he could. Maybe he was still that monster, but it was nice to see a bit of dimension to his teacher. He leaned in and kissed his cheek in a moment of bravery. “I just wanted to let you know I was back. I’ll go take my bath now.”

With that, Vivian stood and smiled. “You know, I’d like to hear that again sometime. It was very pretty.” He beat a hasty retreat from the room. He was looking for a bathtub. Knowing rich people it would be in a separate room wouldn’t it? They put everything in separate rooms. Even the machine that played music had a separate room.

The western hallway ended in a bathroom, thankfully. Vivian closed the door behind him and looked at the big porcelain tub. Alright, that would be the bathtub. It was quite pretty, compared to what he’d bathed in before…usually modified barrels and the like. He peered into the smaller porcelain bowl that seemed to contain water. He frowned at it. What was that for? Your face? Why was it so low? What weird cleaning rituals did rich people have?

Vivian shed his clothing, and looked at the bundle of cloth in his hands. Ah! He tossed them in the smaller bowl and used a foot to get them soaking. The water was already turning a steel grey, and when he pulled a toggle and chain, the nasty water fled somewhere and new water flushed over his clothing.

“So that’s how they stay so damn clean. Separate bathing tub for the dirty clothes.” He marveled. Now, to figure out the bathtub. There were a lot of brass pipes, that ended in little levers. A big spout hanging over the side of the tub. He put a finger in it; moist. Was that where water came from?

Vivian turned a tap, and water flowed. The other tap seemed to do the exact same thing, so he messed about with them. Ah! So the key was temperature. Left tap did hot, right cold. He turned the left tap all the way, and sat in the filling tub. Oh gods yes…hot water. It soothed his dirty skin and relaxed his aching body. He groaned and leaned his cheek on the side of the tub, letting it fill.

[Degare]

TIMESTAMP: -
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After the events of the previous Frost and the strange encounter he’d had at this Glade’s Blooming Glen on top of his lost lover’s return, the man was for all intents and purposes, emotionally destabilized to a degree he hadn’t been in over two decades. When Vivian speaks, his expression in response would be softened as a result of the flattery but would still carry notable strain in his features as the emotions of the present seeped back into his mind. “The instrument is called a piano, but…thank you,” his voice lacked the energy it had earlier in the day. He sounds something similar to somber with a face unreadable. “Music helps stabilize me, if I’m honest,” words spoken musingly, wistful threads woven into his soft velvety timbre.

While the two of them spoke, the Veir neglected to move his head at all, staring blankly forward at not much in particular. Over the past few days, his moods had been really inconsistent. So when his companion kissed him, it took him by surprise– his head jolted to the side in quick, but slightly stuttered movements after the other man had pulled away. He blinked a few times before responding, as if considering something. With a soft exhale through his nose, his features appear more gentle than before and the ghost of a smile would pull ever so lightly at the corners of his lips. “Alright…just ask the other servants which of the chambers on the west end of the estate are free, any of the empty ones can be yours– take your pick.” Cruel as he was, he wasn’t without empathy.

Vivian stood and began to leave, saying one last thing– a request to hear another song sometime. The Veir’s eyes close with a small laugh that drifts into a sigh, “Sure. I play often anyways, an observer wouldn’t hurt.”

____

'Thoughts'
"Common Tongue/Speech"
"Raillen Tongue/Speech"
"Silvain Tongue/Speech"

[Salen]

Degare

Lores
Mentalism: The Mural - Interpreting Ideologies
Mentalism: Impel
Mentalism: The Weave
Mentalism: The Weave - Editing the Weave
Mentalism: The Weave - Moving the Weave
Intimidation: Magic is Scary
Intimidation: Power Dynamics - Nobles vs. Peasants
Instrumentals: Emotions and Music
Instrumentals: Focus
Instrumentals: Passion
Instrumentals: Artistry
Instrumentals: Piano - Keyboard
Instrumentals: Piano - Soft Pedal
Instrumentals: Piano - Sostenuto Pedal
Instrumentals: Piano - Sustaining Pedal

Loot: N/A
Injuries: N/A

Points: 8 (3 for Mentalism, 1 Bane)

Vivian

Lores
Stealth: Basic B&E
Stealth: Sneaking around buildings
Larceny: They can’t take back what’s inside you.
Larceny: Identifying a mark
Medicine: Feasting after famine makes you sick
Medicine: Starvation signs
Malformation: Releasing a form
Malformation: Viewing the world through small eyes
Artificer: Basic levers
Artificer: Water pipes and basic valve use.
Artificer: Toilet use
Larceny: Generic 1-2
Stealth: Generic 1-2


Loot: N/A
Injuries: N/A

Points: 8 (3 for Malformity)

Comments:
Great thread both of you, Vivian is absolutely Feral, baring in mind when you shrink your form, Malformity does cost more ether to perform depending on the tier of animal you're morphing into and weither modifications such as extra limbs, body enhancements etc. This can enforce Overstepping as a Malformist and may increase your mageblight, depending on the tier of animal. Please bare this in mind in your next thread next time you use Malformity as a magic. I will be keeping an eye on this.