Starting Over

[Vicentius]

"Nonsense," he replied, smiling, "to lose oneself in the moment is a rare and beautiful thing, not to be discouraged. Time has laden me with a tad too much self restraint, I fear."

The crowd applauded, quite enthusiastically, barring one or two exceptions, and as the lights came on, Tius noted who was sitting where and with whom, the better to map the current social tides of the gentry. It appeared to be the standard layout, though as they began to leave, new patterns emerged, which gave him some slight pause.

"Miss Malatrast," he said, in response to her question, "where do you meet these fascinating people? You simply must introduce me."

Smiling, he rose and extended his arm for her to take, bowing slightly in deference. He stopped just before the stairs and glanced around, leaning in to Ivone conspiratorially.

"Although, do you think my city boy innocence would survive contact with the theatre's seedy underbelly? I confess, I'm all a flutter."

Winking at her, he held the door and waited for her to lead on.

[Ivone]

"Oh my," Ivone looked at him from the corners of her eyes, "Are you so old? Be careful, you might just become my next husband." She waggled her eyebrows at him. It was a joke at her own expense about the age differences. There were many who tittered and nattered on about that subject.

Tius' gaze drifted to the exiting crowds, watching groups come together, fragment, and reform. Ivone was silent for more than a few moments as they watched. "It's one of the better perks of having a box, getting to the watch people. Sometimes I like to imagine who does what, though I suspect I'm usually wrong."

In response to his next question, she shook her head. "I might be able to make an arrangement for you to meet them, though it may cost you dinner."

Tius' next move was completely unexpected and utterly charming. Ivone's eyes widened and she couldn't suppress her amusement. A healthy laugh escaped her. More than one pair of curious eyes looked their way, noting Ivone and the company she kept. Fodder.

"Don't worry, little butterfly. I will keep you safe."

With that, Ivone led Vincentius Morrington to a little side door labeled "Staff Only." The door led into a narrow hallway, which seemed to wind its way parallel to the theater proper and angled down in a series of shallow steps, further confirming the assumption. For all the opulence of the atrium and theatre, the narrow hallway was very bare. The stairwell curved around and down, until they ended underneath the stage area. Here, was chaos. Actors and actors, in various stage of dress, were talking excitedly. Different run crews, each with their assigned roles worked diligently to put away and prep for the next performance. The energy of the place was dynamic and vibrant.

[Vicentius]

He stepped back, smiling slightly as she laughed and letting her lead him along. He cocked an eyebrow at the sign, wondering how many theatre explorers Marn sheltered, and followed Ivone through the doorway. Everyone wanted to enter via a door marked private, he reflected, but not everyone understood that the halls of power, or the halls where the work took place, weren't always glamorous. The hallway beyond was tight and bare, and Tius had an uncomfortable flashback to his time in the asylum, and to every filthy space he'd ever worked in. Shaking it off, he followed Ivone around and down into the bowels of the theatre, following the decline of the stairs.

"I must say, the design is very clever," he said, glancing at the walls. "Is this the original structure?"

Further down still, and the sounds of voices and frantic labour washed over them like a great wave. It began as a low rumble and built to a crescendo in almost no time at all,and it was, to Tius at least, oddly comforting. An urbanite at heart, despite his travels, he found the hustle and bustle of pure commerce more fascinating and homely than a house could ever be. Sticking close to Ivone, he did his best to stay out of peoples' way, offering a smile or congratulations where appropriate.

[Ivone]

Ivone nodded. "It is. This was actually part of the original historic district, though on the very edge of it. Which is why it survived much better than the original fort area."

As they navigated into the busier area, Ivone was aware of Tius at her back.

"I think Cisme is over there if you wanted to say hello." Ivone looked up at Tius and gave him a smile.

A skinny man, balding man approached the pair. He carried a metal box with him and was flanked by two thick looking strong arm types.

"Ms. Ivone, tonights receipts."

"Thanks, Frank." Ivone received the box from Frank.

Looking to Tius, Ivone said, "If you'll excuse me? No one gets paid if I don't do this part." The two strong arms looked Tius over. "Frank, this is Cisme's brother. Would you mind?"

"Of course not, Ms. Ivone." Frank looked toward Tius over a pair of spectacles. "Sir?" Once of the strong arms made a movement as if to follow Frank and Tius. His job was to make sure Frank didn't leave before the receipts could be verified and the percentage of the box was divvied out.

[Vicentius]

He listened attentively as Ivone described some of the building's history, nodding almost to himself. Yes, he thought, that fit with what he'd read and what the scholars were saying. He traced some of the stonework with a gloved hand, noting the patterns. There were marks, here and there, where the stone had been chipped away or mortared over for repairs or removed for some other purpose, but by and large the markings fit with the early Settlers period. It did raise questions as to the building's original purpose, though, he thought, given its distance from the old fortress proper. Turning at Ivone's gesture, he smiled, raising an eyebrow.

"Abandoning me already, Miss Malatrast?"

He put a hand to his heart with an expression of comic woe.

"Alas, the butterfly must flutter alone!"

The flunkies he recognized by type rather than by name. He'd met many such people in his travels and they all tended to conform to the same type; bulky, battered and clad in functional clothing to hide the little marks. It was wonderful advertising, he thought, and he approved wholeheartedly, provided, of course, they could be trusted. Frank was a different matter, and the silent judgement behind the spectacles was interesting. Still, Tius wasn't here for him, and with a polite bow to Miss Malatrast, he moved to find Cisme. No doubt she would be in good spirits after the performance.

[Ivone]

Amusement sparkled in her eyes as she gave Vincentius a knowing smile before moving to an office just off the main area.

"Ti!" Cisme trilled in excitement when she saw her brother. "Did you see? Didn't I do well as the beautiful hero done wrong?" Cisme caught Tius' hands in hers and spun around in a pirouette, beaming up at him. Her blonde hair had been arranged in ringlets which sprung and bounced as she moved. Cisme was an effervescent personality, very different from her brother's more reticent one. Cisme's docile personality and gender had saved her their father's more volatile displays.

"Do you like Miss Ivone? I do. Come! Let me introduce you to the rest of the players!" With that, Cisme set out to ensure everyone met her "dashing, charming, and very handsome" brother.

[Vicentius]

He couldn't help the smile that spread across his face as Cisme all but tackled him, all bubbling, infectious enthusiasm, and clasped her hands affectionately, spinning her with ease. Her blond curls glimmered in the lights and her dress fanned out around her in quite an eye catching display, a considerable contrast to his own more sombre stylings. Still, while the relentless energy might grate on him from time to time, he wouldn't have changed her for the world. It did help that she was one of the few people in his family who was always genuinely happy to see him.

"As always, dear sister," he said, "you are a warm fire on a cold, dark night."

Spinning her again, he gave some thought to her other question, and the weight it carried, his smile never slipping.

"If she half as pleasant as an employer as she is as a hostess," he said, "then I envy you your position."

The words were barely out of his mouth before he was whisked away to meet her contemporaries from the play, as well as anyone else she may have taken a liking to. This too, he bore well, as she'd gone out of her way to do the same when he'd come back from his travels, but the warmth was slightly more forced. Meeting people was an exercise that he was more than familiar with, and as he was introduced to tired smiling face after smiling face, he wracked his brain for other works they'd done, complimenting them on their performances and expressing his hopes to see them again. It was amazing how many of them he knew from social gatherings, even in passing, and quite a few from the university. The foreigners were an interesting addition, not for the talent they brought, but for the controversy it stirred in some circles, who did not like to see Marn's institutions open their doors to anyone but their own.

"And I do not dash," he said, raising his eyebrow, "I plan properly and arrive in my own time, I'll have you know."

[Ivone]

The box office receipts were more than decent. The new story was a welcome change apparently, though the theater would still continue its daily matinee showings that were pro-Marn and pro-Teodinus. They were good for business in more ways than one. Now was not the time for risky productions.

Ivone hoped no one would think today's program was intended for anything than the fun it was supposed to bring. The constable role was not a true guardsman and more indicative of the civil side of things, but it could still be misconstrued. These were the thoughts that ran through her head as she sorted the receipts into different till buckets.

Payment for wages came first. These were sorted into neat little bags and placed into a larger bag. Next, came funds for the costs to upkeep the theater. This was followed by funds for production costs such as materials and labor. What remained was for the investors, Ivone included. Ivone carefully logged the income and outgoing elements. Her books were clean.

Ivone put the working capital into the safe along with the books. When she emerged, the larger bag was on her arm. From there, Ivone made it a point to stop and speak to each individual working the event tonight. With each thank you for their hard work, a payment packet was produced and handed over. Ivone finished up with Cisme.

"Cisme, you did very well tonight. Thank you for your hard work" Ivone held out her hand. Cisme took it.

"Thank you for giving me the chance, Mrs. Malatrast." Ivone slipped the pay packet into Cisme's hand with her other hand. She gave Cisme's hand a squeeze as she placed the packet.

"My pleasure." Ivone looked to Tius before nodding to one of the muscle. A chair was produced and a hand offered. Ivone stepped onto the chair and lifted a final packet bag - her portion. Silence fell over the backroom and for once, it was still.

"Everyone! Thank you again for a fantastic show!" Ivone led a round of applause.

"The tab at the 'Rat is on me tonight!" A hooray went up. People in her position did not normally go to the 'Rat. It was more for guardsmen and more middle class tradesmen, people like her actors and actresses. Ivone had already made arrangements for a tab and reserved a portion of the pub for just this.

"Eat, drink, be merry and get ready for the next time the curtains rise!" Ivone was beaming. As people moved back to their finishing up, Ivone held out a hand for help down. She expected one of the muscle to do it, but if Tius offered, she wouldn't decline.

[Vicentius]

Releasing Cisme to receive her payment, and indulging a small, private smile at the thought of their father's reaction had he known, he favoured Cisme with a smile and a wink when she turned back to him. Aware that, as an outsider, he was drawing a few curious glances, he was surreptitious in his own observations, noting the pleased and the less than pleased faces in the crowd of actors and other workers. Every workplace had its politics, and while he doubted that those at work here were as, if he could be pardoned for even thinking the phrase, dramatic as those of the nobility. Then again, he doubted that many of the nobility conceived the lower classes as being capable of such politicking, which would be the rock they'd perish on. Still, they seemed happy with Ivone, for the most part, so she was clearly doing something right.

Listening to her speech, he applauded as enthusiastically as propriety allowed, careful to stay out of the way. He had returned her look with a warm smile, stepping closer to her make-shift podium, as the tough helped her up. That in turn, drew a few more gazes, but all were swallowed up by the applause. He noticed once again a certain disparity in Ivone's manner; she didn''t seem to view those here with the same disdain she did the guests, which could have meant a number of things. Still, there wasn't a working man or woman born that didn't smile at the thought of a warm hearth and a mug of ale at the end of the day, and he noticed Cisme chatting to one or two of the other actors, clearly making plans of her own. One young gentleman in particular seemed to have claimed her attention, and he raised an eyebrow before returning his attention to Ivone. On cue, he stepped forwards and offered his hand for her to take, calmly and politely meeting the tough's gaze with a blank look of his own that would brook no argument.

"A wonderful gesture," he said, inclining his head to her, "and well earned. Bravo."

[Ivone]

The tough stayed where he was, stone faced, as Tius stepped forward, though he did size the man up as if to note that should Ivone need his assistance, he would do his job. Tius was from a Descendant family and a man didn't go after one of the Descendant families unless he had a death wish or he trusted his boss to protect him should the need arise. Tius was given right of way by virtue of his station and Ivone's.

Ivone gathered the voluminous folds of the gown she wore, a required outfit given her role for the evening. Stepping on to the chair, she and Tius were of a height to one another. Ivone's lips curved into a slight smile, amused and pleased by Tius' manners and comments. She inclined her head in return.

"They deserve it. They worked hard."

Ivone squeezed Tius' hand slightly as she stepped off the chair. Silly as it was, she had a sense of vertigo when looking down from any height, even one as minimal as stepping off a chair. The only give-away was the squeeze on his hand, though. With a little hop, she landed neatly on the floor and released the hold on her skirt. Once steadily on the floor, she released Tius' hand.

"It appears Cisme and Corydon are making plans. What are your plans for the evening?"

[Vicentius]

"Not as hard as their manager, I dare say," he said, eyes sparkling innocently, "given some of the luminaries here this evening."

He kept his expression pleasant and innocent, but his eyes twinkled in a manner that said his comment could be interpreted a number of ways. He was careful that only Ivone could see that twinkle, keeping the pretense of polite propriety for the employees. It was a careful game they played, after all, and it wouldn't do to twig people to that too early on. Besides, Cisme and Corydon were watching expectantly from the side-lines, and he would so hate to spoil her image of him before he had to. Ivone's apparent, though brief, discomfort over the transit from chair to ground was interesting, indicating other things about her, but he returned her gentle squeeze with one of his own, maintaining the gap between them.

"Well," he said, tapping his chin thoughtfully, "I had planned to go home to my empty, cavernous mansion, sit in my most forbidding chair, and swirl a brandy while thinking fondly of the lower classes."

He glanced at Cisme, catching her eye and winking.

"But...I suppose I could be convinced to do something else."

[Ivone]

The return squeeze and twinkle in his eye was unexpected. Ivone's first interaction and impression of Vincentius Morrington was more pleasant than she would have expected. If only she had met him first, perhaps the complications of her life over the last three years would never have happened. Ivone forced those thoughts away. She had few options now. Aurelio owned her in so many ways and one wrong move on her part would ensure she would be a permanent member in the cells beneath the justice hall. Not for the first time did the thought that death would be a more welcome choice than the ones she saw ahead of her.

Ivone's eyes widened and she splayed fingers across her decolletage. "You like to do that, too? Well, well, we have more in common than I thought. Hmm..."

Cisme chimed in, "There's dancing at the Salon?"

"Dancing?" Ivone looked to Tius, brows raised.

[Vicentius]

He matched her gesture, turning to look at Cisme, still all innocence.

"To me your ways are wondrous strange," he said, "what is this dancing of which you speak?"

There was no hesitation in Ivone's tone or her motions, but there was something unreadable in her eyes as she looked him over, and his intuition said that it wasn't a good something by any means. She was reflecting on something, and once again those rumours reared their ugly heads while they both went through the motions of social interaction. Still, he thought; it was fascinating, and these times seemed to bring out the most interesting aspects of people. First Miss Idris and now Miss Malatrast; what stories they could tell, were they only so inclined. He could only imagine what stories she wouldn't tell about Aurelio Merynir. Lowering his voice, he leaned towards Ivone.

"I can do synchronised fluttering," he whispered, "if that is anything similar."

He was unfamiliar with Cisme's salon, but he knew the type and part of him dreaded going while the rest of him looked forward to it. More to the point, he couldn't simply let his sister waltz off with Corydon without needling them properly; it was his brotherly duty after all. Straightening, he smiled at his hostess, inclining his head.

"I do need to repay you for such a marvelous evening," he said, "so lead on and I will follow."

[Ivone]

"Oh, Ti!" Cisme grinned at her brother.

WIth her usual enthusiasm, Cisme made a come, come gesture to Corydon, who locked arms with her. Ivone smiled surrepticiously when Tius leaned to whisper to her.

Looking between Tius and Ivone, Cisme said, "The Salon it is!" With that she lead the quartet out the door and into the night.

The Salon was one of those upmarket clubs catering to the younger crowds. Class mixing was not uncommon, but there were little pockets snobbery and cliques. This was to be expected. The music encouraged set dancing and waltzs. This setting was much more laid back and welcoming than the Season parties ones like Sparrow and Aurelio would attend.

Cisme and Corydon abandoned them almost immediately, making for the dance floor and joining in the set.

Ivone glanced around the place and felt a sense of relief. Here she could relax and enjoy herself. Her smile returned unfettered.

"Shall we?"

[Vicentius]

He let himself be swept up in Cisme's wake, trading harmless conversation with Ivone as they walked, keeping a quiet eye on the other two. To be fair to Cisme, she'd been well taught and didn't lack for confidence, so Corydon wasn't getting far for all of his apparent charms. Still, the Changers loved a trier, so he kept at it, until the noise of the Salon found them and drowned it out. He almost smiled at his own idiocy, then he corrected himself and smiled genuinely, taking in the crowd. More and more of these establishments were sneaking into the city as time went by; the young ever coming up with new ways to anoy the old, but while they were more laid back than more...traditional places, he noted that they were no less pretentious. Nothing changed, he thought, uncharitably, they just got repackaged now and then.

Inside, the décor was a mash up of a number of styles, all combined to appeal to the rebel sensibilities. In truth, he thought that they were a bit late to the party, Javier having gotten there first, but Javier couldn't put in a dance floor for safety reasons, so they had him there. A lively reel was in progress as they entered, and as Cisme and Corydon promptly abandoned them, he turned to Ivone, raising an eyebrow. Something in her attitude had tweaked again, and she seemed more at ease.

"What kind of yes man would I be if I said no?"