The Fox and Moon Inn Presents

‘Sebastien’

Sebastien had not come dressed to impress.

Slippered feet shuffled down the hall, his hand running along the wall as he blindly followed what his subconscious could remember of this damned maze of an inn. He wasn't sure what he was wearing - if anything at all - but apparently he had been cold. The edge of a wool blanket drug behind him, trailing up to where he had it firmly wrapped around his shoulders and clutched in place with fingers twisting at his chest.

A grumble from his stomach prompted him to follow the sounds of people- voices, laughter, clanking plates… the occasional loud crash or bang, but nothing out of the ordinary for this place. All he knew was: where there were people, there was food…

When he had peered around the corner, Jericho had just appeared back on the stage. Sebastien watched for a moment, eyes glazed over as the man quite literally pranced to and fro across the stage in the most ridiculous outfit…s… Sebastien had ever seen. He blinked slowly before his foggy gaze lazily worked its way across the rest of the crowd-

-ah, no, there were too many people.

He pushed himself off of the wall that he had been sinking into and set his sights on the dining hall. Another grumble gripped his stomach, prompting a quicker pace as he followed the scent of sweet teas and treats. In fact, he cared not for where the food came from… or who it belonged to… anything to curb the hungry gnaw of his stomach.

With a content, rather sleepy tug of his lips, Sebastien helped himself to whatever he came across- a treat from a plate here, a sip from a cup there. If there were protests, he was blissfully unaware, mumbling some semblance of an “excuse me” whenever he felt appropriate. Gods forbid he be rude. (312)

—

Harrow

Harrow had arrived a little late to the event; the play had just started and a man’s voice echoed through the intricately decorated halls. No familiar accompanied them tonight, for they had decided the Fox & Moon Inn was hidden enough from Witchfinders to not need a lookout. Harrow was accompanied by their moths though—mostly in the form of small rosy pink and yellow ones that clung to their hat and shawl. It looked a little like feathers or flowers, if flower petals moved around and fluttered a bit. The rest of their outfit was similarly colorful; they had taken the opportunity to dress up for the occasion rather than try to disguise themself. Or, well, it probably could be considered a bit of a disguise given how rarely they wore their hair down, makeup, and a dress. They thought it looked good, but boy did looking fem-presenting take time.

They walked through the entrance hall with confidence, having been to the Inn before, and wound up in the ballroom. A plate of pastries was purchased, and they snagged a bottle of champagne off a table when no-one was looking. Finding an empty seat towards the back of the room, they settled in to take in the play and people-watch.

They didn’t enjoy the play for the play’s sake—mostly they enjoyed the idea of how Yasumi would react to it. She clearly had not done her research on the Raven’s Watch. Had to admit it was rather entertaining though. The loud clattering of the attempted backdrop changes, the lead wearing a frilly dress (frilly and pink was not their taste but good for him), overdramatic lines... Harrow grinned as, on stage, Jericho revealed that he was playing both main parts and he almost tripped over something as he dashed back across the stage to deliver his next line to himself. Yasumi would hate this. It was perfect.

—

One of Ioeth’s eel familiars

From somewhere near the back of the dining hall, there was a sudden, shrill clamour of voices; a company of people got up from their chairs with some haste, pointing at something on the floor. Two noble-looking ladies gathered their skirts, horrified, and stepped aside, moving towards a different table. Their companions hurried after them.

From underneath the table, a large shape emerged; its pitch-black body almost snake-like in its undulating movements, leaving a trail of shadowy residue behind that quickly dissipated when hit by the light. Upon closer inspection, one would find that it was not a snake, but an uncommonly big eel, slithering across the tiles. Passing in and out of the shadows underneath the tables, it seemed to shift strangely; one moment, its body thick and shiny, the next it was a skeletal creature, all black bone… and then it resumed its previous form again.

It did not seem to pay any attention to the ruckus it had caused, not sparing a single glance at the fleeing group; it merely continued on its way, unhurried. A shadow creature, clearly of magical origin; likely the familiar of one of the assembled mages. It seemed, vaguely, to be looking for something. (202)

—

Yasumi

"Ma'am, there's complaints of... eels."

Yasumi stared at the staff member who dared to approach her. "What the fuck did you just say to me?"

"There's been complaints of--"

"I know what you said, I'm asking if you're trying to pull my tail, because if you are I'm going to stick my claws so far up your ass I'll be able to scrape the back of your tongue," Yasumi all but howled at the poor staff member, shoving the person so far back from her that they nearly fell off the balustrade. "Get rid of the fucking eels, and do not bother me again."

The staff member brushed their uniform down. "Where should I... put the eels?"

Yasumi glared at the staff member until her third eye popped out of her skull. The staff member tripped over themselves to run from Yasumi, and she turned her attention back to the play going on stage.

Jericho was attempting to make out with himself. Dear god, she could only hope people were enjoying this shitshow on stage... or they were opening their gold purses to pay for the wine to get into their greedy gullets. Yasumi snapped her claws, and more kegs were brought up from the cellars of the Fox and Moon Inn.

Yasumi took another flute of champagne from a passing waiter. She needed way more than a glass to get herself through this. [234]

—

Jericho

Yes, yes, Jericho had turned his back to the stage and imitated a makeout session with himself-- Why was everyone so bloody bothered by that? Clearly not a soul in the audience understood true art in the slightest, for Jericho has doing naught but setting the precedent for all artists to follow for decades-- nay, centuries to come.

"O' Romericho, Romericho-" He giggles in his pitched tone, roughing himself up with near-reckless abandon before he hears it... The shrill cries of ladies interrupting his beautiful, tear-jerking performance.

How dare these dolled-up nobodies stand in the way of Jericho's art! His wrath is not veiled as he turns, practically steaming from his ears as sharp eyes scan the scattering crowd. "What the devil are you doing?! Can't you see I'm making art-" Unfortunately for Jericho (Fortunately for everyone else,) his lambast is cut short when the cause of the sudden chaos graces his view.

"Grace's tits, what the bloody hell is that?" Much akin to the noble ladies in the back, Jericho hitches up his half-skirt and lets go of a shrill shriek of his own, retreating on the stage with disgust written all over his face... Hypocrite. "Get that thing on a lead or something! The people are missing the best parts!" All illusions had been shattered now that Jericho blatantly directs his ire to the paying crowd. [228]

—

Lasair

The thing in question that was ruining Lasair's perfectly good theater-going experience was slithering onto the stage, aiming right for Jericho's petticoats - before it's plucked from the stage by a clawed hand, fingers blackened and deadly.

Lasair sat back down in her seat with the wriggling eel on her lap, much to the horrified stares of everyone in the front half of the hall. It twisted and thrashed under her clawed grip to utterly no avail, and she flashed a pleasant smile up at her best friend onstage. "Don't worry Jerry darling, it's under control. Go on, you were just on the best part!"

She kept the eel like some demented little lapdog with complete and total ease, and leaned over to her taciturn servant Hazaiah to give him a look. He was already meeting it with one of utter regret for even coming to this farce of a show, and he slowly stood up, again, to pull a handful of her men to catch those slithering annoyances that were getting in the way of Jericho's art, as he so rightly put it.

"Remind me to have a word with the proprietor of this place," She murmured to Aleister as she held the eel fast. "Jericho deserves better than a place infested with pests. The audacity." [216]

—

Destry

It had taken quite a bit of convincing at the front doors, something about not allowing guests inside once the show had begun, but Destry had finally made it inside after some discrete use of his affection manipulation on the doorman. He had not known really what to wear to a play, Destry was not used to fine society, and as such hardly had any clothes for the occasion.

It was usually scratched armour and stinking leathers for him. Not this evening, though. He had found a nice burgundy gambeson and was done up rather nicely. Still, it would be easy to see by those who were used to the finer things in life, that Destry was only trying to fit in. His cheap outfit, while nicer than his leathers, was nothing compared to some of the beautiful gowns and tunics he had seen on the way in.

As quietly and sneakily as he could, Destry made his way through the reception and into the seated area before the stage. It was dark in there and that did something, at least, to hide his tardy arrival. But not much could truly shadow the mountainous figure attempting to sneak - rather unsuccessfully so - through the main aisle in an effort to locate a free seat.

Finally spotting a vacant seat at the front row, Destry hesitated a moment as he looked at all the patrons he would have to sneak through just to reach it. He thought about going back, lest he be any more of a disturbance to the audience, but he was in luck as there seemed to be some minor disturbance amongst the audience. Something about an … Eel? Sucking in a sharp breath, Destry decided to go for it.

“Sorry, excuse me,” Destry whispered as the large man squeezed very clumsily past the legs of the seated patrons, “Oops, sorry! So sorry,” he said as a woman gave a small shriek as he stepped on her foot. He paused to make sure she was okay then quickly carried on when she glared up at him. “Just sit down,” the man next to her complained, and Destry gave an apologetic smile before carrying on. The goal was in sight. Just a few more… Nearly…

Relief washed over him as his rump found its destination and he sat down quickly after folding down the velvet-lined chair. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, and Destry found that he had to squeeze himself in and rest his hands in his lap, hunching his shoulders so as to fit his wide berth into the narrow chair. “Hello,” Destry whispered once more to the woman seated beside him, he offered a smile at Lasair, whom he sat directly next to, and nodded to Aleister on her other side, “Erm, this seat wasn’t taken, I hope?” He had not even considered it, and began to fret. (479)

—

Lasair

Lasair had tried to keep her attention on the stage this time, so quickly on the heels of the last interruption, but really, all the shrieking behind her was really overtaking Jericho's line delivery. She leveled a pout over her shoulder at the giant warrior-type headed right for the empty seat Hazaiah had vacated, pursing her lips when he sat, indelicately, right beside her.

He asked if the seat was taken, as if he didn't know who she was, as if she hadn't clearly reserved the entire front section of the hall for her and her lackeys. But fine, she'd play along, if only to not cause another ruckus. "Oh, it is," She gave her guest a sharp smile as she walked her blackened fingers along to the plate piled high with Hazaiah's pastries he'd never gotten the chance to eat. "Just by no one important."

"Lasair Andraste. A pleasure." Perhaps that would ring a bell for exactly who he'd barged in to sit with, from the numerous bounties with her name on it. The eel squirmed in her lap, and she stroked it to calm it down, as if it were her pet for the night. It hissed with its sharp little needle fangs, but otherwise stilled. "Interrupt my viewing experience with any more shrieking, and I'll hang you from the rafters. Otherwise," She pushed the plate in his direction. "Be my guest." [231]

—

Destry

That name… It certainly did ring a bell, and it only took a second for the two cogs in Destry’s brain to start moving enough until he got it. “Oh! Oh…” He wasn’t sure what to do, so he just smiled.

“Pleased to meet you,” the man whispered cordially, glancing down at the strange creature which had caught his attention with its movements, “I’m Sir Destry. Just Destry. Uh, I can move, if your … Companion, whoever was sitting here,” He glanced around to see if he could see an angry looking person staring at him, but could not see one, yet. Then the pastries were offered, and Destry was never one to decline food, so naturally he nodded in thanks and took a cupcake off the side of the plate and ate it in one bite with another grin.

“Fhank yhou,” he said with his mouth full. (148)

—

Emlyn

Emlyn crept back inside the ballroom, soon deciding on grabbing another glass of the sparkling liquid dear god this man is drinking ten times his body weight and keeping to the back, hidden between the floating guests, where he could still clearly see the... unique performance going on in front of him. He'd never seen anything like it and was kept extremely amused. Emlyn almost expected there to be some elegant pianist in the corner of the stage, since that would be a lot more suited to the magical environment rather than some... some act? Surely this wasn't approved of by the host? Half of the people in the audience seemed beguiled and the other as if they couldn't wait for it to be over. Emlyn was situated somewhere in the middle - finding himself oddly attracted to the pink prancing flamingo that was 'Jerichette'.

He finished what was in his glass, placing it down on the nearest table and continued making his way to the other side of the room, trying not to make himself obvious to the crowd. Now, just to hoping no one here would catch a scent of the spots of blood, which were currently.... drying up and staining his clothing. "Goddamnit this was one of my best shirts." He whined, rolling his eyes and sighing. The last thing that was needed was more drama in the evening, it seemed there was enough of that going on in stage. Jesus did this guy go to some kind of acting acadamy for mages?? Or is he actually just that in love with himself?

Emlyn's only task now was trying to figure out where the bloody bathroom was. He swore he saw it on the way in, although... he was partly distracted with how much marble and stone there was, and the dramatic noises coming from the ballroom. Get me out of here before I get sent a bill for the glass - possibly the other I smashed five minutes after I arrived, too.

[334]

—

One of Ioeth’s eel familiars

The eel in Lasair’s lap seemed to calm at her touch. Whether it enjoyed it or not was hard to tell; perhaps it recognised, in some form, a blackened hand and sharp claws. Its attention had shifted from the stage to its captor and her company—it had watched Hazaiah get up and leave, and watched Destry take his place.

As for the rest of the eels—because indeed, there were three others—any attempts at capturing them would be met with some difficulty. If grabbed, the creatures would melt into shadow, and reform just out of reach, or disappear completely; neither did they seem to be confined to the ground, at times taking to the air with swimming motions.

If left alone, the eels would be content to slither on their way, as if searching for some goal known only to them. (140)

—

Aleister

Aleister made a little delighted gasp at the eel, clueless why everyone else seemed wholly offended by it. He snuck in a little pet while Lasair kept it on her lap, mask turning to look at her as she spoke to him. “Me? Remind you? I’ll do my best but that doesn’t seem to be my strong point.” His voice betrayed some bemusement.

His attention was caught by a rather stunningly clumsy man, wiggling all the way to Hazaiah’s chair, and promptly sitting down. He bent forward to make sure he was seen sitting next to Lasair, giving Destry a wave of his gloved hand. And while not asked, he still made sure to introduce himself. “Aleister. I know you didn’t ask but I wanted to make sure you knew.” The mask showed no sign of smiling, or changing in any way. But it was obviously looking at the new arrival. “Did you come here all alone, Sir Destry? No date?” (161)

—

Destry

The wriggling creature in Lasair’s lap continued to capture Destry’s attention. He wasn’t sure if he should be alarmed by it or not, though the woman handling it seemed to be acting quite nonchalant about it all. Not that her judgement was necessarily sound.

Destry’s attention was pulled away from the thing a moment later, and he looked up at Aleister as he introduced himself. “Ah, good to meet you,” Destry offered with a smile and a nod. His smile turned into a smirk at the question.

“Date? Oh, not tonight,” Destry chuckled quietly as if laughing at a joke in his head, then looked to the both of them, “Are you two…?”

A sudden thought crossed his mind, was he not only intruding by taking up their companion’s seat, but now third-wheeling? (133)

—

Jericho

Now the wretched eels had been... As dealt with as possible, Jericho has settled down and ceased his glass-shattering screeching. He passed a glance to his dear Lasair in the front row, offered a gentle twiddle of his fingers hello, and returns to the scene behind him.

After several conversations between side characters performing far better than their leading man, backdrops are changing and soft music swells amongst the idle chatter of the crowd below; A tall wall, decorated with climbing ivory and a myriad of colourful flowers, stands centre stage. Fake bushes line fake walls, and shoddily built wooden stairs lead toward a balcony...

Where Jerichette stands, her pink dress clearly covering another set of clothing beneath.

"O Romerico, Romerico! Wherefore art thou Romerico?” She lets go a dreamy sigh, leaning against the wobbling railings and casting a wanderlust expression upon her face--

Before bolting away, tearing off the dress and thundering down rattling steps, appearing once more as a suited-up Romericho. He looks upward, arm stretched to... Jerichette 'standing on the balcony,' "Shall I hear more, my wonderful love, or shall I speak at this?" He calls to no one, waves of passion backing each word.

Jericho, again, sprints up the stairs, hastily throws the dress back over himself, and hangs atop the balcony near-breathless. “What's-- in a- name? That which we call a rose... by any other name... would smell as sweet;" His pants cut through pivotal plot points and disrupt the flow of storytelling gloriously... Perhaps, he thinks, it's time to work on his stamina...

Another string of nonsensical dialogue with no one echoes through the room, and the next time he turns to leave, chaos ensues.

"Why can't I-- Grace above this lace-" While trying to remove the dress and descend the stairs, Jericho trips on his skirts and comes rolling down the stairs in a blur of frills and ribbons.

"OH GOOD GODS-- HELP ME- YASUMI- ANYONE," Somewhere behind the wall the desperate voice calls out, "Oh Fortune, spare me, not my face... Not my face I cannot bruise on my big night." After a moment of whining, a figure scuttles on stage and attempts to haul the man up-- All going unseen, but every word is heard.

"MY LEG you buffoon don't hurt my leg-" "I'm trying boss but you're so heavy-" "I'm already wounded do you need to mention that as well?"

It appears the performance is not improving. [407]

—

Yasumi

Yasumi wasn't sure what she was watching anymore. If she managed to get her hands on more champagne, it wouldn't matter anyways-- she would be too drunk to have to comprehend this horror show wrapped in confectionary and ego prancing about on her stage and making a farce.

"He should have least gotten a man to play Romeo," Yasumi muttered bitterly under her breath. "He looks good in a dress, but I don't buy him as Romeo. Then again, Juliette is smart. Maybe he should have just been the donkey." It was buzzed rambling under her breath as she looked at her empty champagne glass and tossed it carelessly over her shoulder. Someone would pick it up.

With two of her foxes sent to at least corral the eels (they must be someone's familiars-- she had a guess as to who, but there was no way to confront that particular mage), Yasumi began to manage the rest of the experience. Lasair's group was given a complimentary bottle of fine wine with a small, but gentle, reminder to not disrupt the play happening (not that she cared, but there had to be one patron here who was enjoying this absolute carriage wreck). Food and drink were all refreshed-- alcohol was given a slight price increase, as Yasumi needed to manage her stores if she had any hope of having enough to go around.

She got another drink... and watched as Jericho managed to fall from his "beautiful" balcony scene.

He didn't break his neck. Pity.

One of her staff members tried to rush over. Yasumi grabbed them by the back of their cloak. "Don't help him."

"But-- Ma'am--"

"Don't. Help. Him."

Much to Yasumi's great displeasure, Jericho was back on his feet and continued to ruin art before everyone's very eyes.

She took her champagne like a shot.

[305]

—

Lasair

The sheer audacity of her guest's question sincerely caught Lasair off guard. She had to restrain a bold laugh, lest it bother the star of the show, and chuckled softly behind her hand. "How adorable, Aleister, the poor thing's deranged. Really, darling," She smiled in good humor at Destry, "You're sitting at a table of murderers and enemies to the kingdom. Assumptions can get you into a fair amount of trouble."

She continued to pet the eel in her lap - which she was actually growing a little fond of, despite herself - and said, "To answer your question, no. I'm taken by a man who may or may not be dead, and this fine gentleman here has terrible taste in tax collectors -"

Two things happened at once: her wonderful, perfect Jerry who could do no wrong tripped and fell, and immediately Lasair bolted out of her seat, bristling to do something. A servant appeared at her elbow as the eel slithered around her shoulders like some demented feather boa, hissing and frightening the man in Lasair's way. She hissed at him in unison to get the hell out of her way, till she spied the fine bottle marked as a clear bribe to not make a scene.

Lasair sneered, wrenching the bottle from the trembling man's grip and sat back down. "Who does she think she is? Letting in pests (not that you're a pest, lovely thing, shh), crafting shoddy set designs to harm her star actors, and now shallow bribery? Aleister, be a dove and open this for me if you'd be so kind, thank you. And you," She leveled a sharp eye onto Destry. "What are you waiting for? Get onto that stage and help him up. Pretend to be a helpful tree or something. A cherry tree perhaps." She eyed his red coloring, then snapped, "Now." (308)

—

Destry

Before Destry could even begin to think about formulating a reply to the woman's reaction at his assumptions, Lasair had jumped to action toward the stage. Destry was bemusedly smiling at the whole ordeal, confused but also amused. Yet he did not expect Lasair's proposition, nor did he particularly think it wise.

"Ah, me? I'm not an -- Actor, at all," Destry attempted, but he could see that no amount of reasoning would sway this woman, and indeed she had just reminded him the type of company he was keeping in their row of seats.

He looked up to the stage, seeing Jerry struggling some, he frowned and stood. Easily he pulled himself up onto the stage and sidled over to the performer, "Need a hand, Jericho?" he offered.

Gods be good, the knight hoped he wasn't making things worse… (139)

—

Jericho

With a heavy breath, Jericho glances upward and bares his teeth at the sight of an innocent Destry simply trying to make this whole thing far less embarrassing... Or was it more humiliating to fumble for the man's hand and show his inelegance two-fold?

"Of course I need a bloody hand, look at me!" So he whines instead, a mess of skirt and lace, crimson curls half-blocking the view of his saviour as Jericho blindly reaches out for the offered hand. It'll all be over soon, and the hope of impressing has dwindled away into the smallest ember amongst long-extinguished coals.

Once the performer has heaved himself back onto two feet, he takes a moment to brush himself down (and regain a sliver of his dignity,) and turns to the crowd with a look of... Pure, over-the-top longing.

"...R-Romerico!" Jericho's shrill voice cuts through the stilted silence, and he turns to grab a hold of Destry's hands. "You have... Saved me from utter peril!"

"This isn't in the script-- What page are we on?" Panicked voices murmur behind delicately draped curtains--

"O' How I... Um... Value your endless devotion!" Quickly, Jericho scrambles around the stage in search of something; Anything that he can use to keep this incredibly shoddy scene of improv moving forward... Poor, poor Destry...

Landing on one of the candles placed around the stage, the man moves towards it with haste, grinning as if this was the best plan in his mind-- "Here," Jericho removes one of the pink satin gloves, "Take this candle as a... Token of my... Er, undying passion that... Burns... For you!" But just as his fingers touch the melting wax of the candle, he shrieks.

"Bloody-- Fortunes balls why is that so damn hot!" The candlestick knocks to the ground with a clatter--

Followed by another, and another.

Like dominoes, the holders knock over each other and within mere seconds, the stone stage has caught ablaze.

There's a chorus of yells backstage as his troupe being their panic, each of them wondering; How in Ivras did this tit manage to muck up his show enough that stone has gone up in smoke?

"Don't just stand there!" Jericho shouts over the raucous, "Someone get me some ice for my finger!"

The Raven's Watch will not be the success Jericho hoped for... Or, perhaps baffled onlookers can only find the display of incomitance curious (and entertaining) enough to hire him, awaiting the next bizarre show he presents... [413]

—

Destry

At the confirmation of needed assistance, Destry indeed hurried over and helped Jericho up. He was ready to quickly make his exit off the stage when the man suddenly included him into the performance!

Destry was at a loss for words, he was not of quick enough wit to play along too well, but he did try.

"Ah, thank you..." He said, trying to speak up so that the audience could hear, "My Lady...?" he said with uncertainty, glancing out at the audience. Despite his embarrassment, Destry could not help but grin from amusement, it was clear he was attempting to hold back laughter.

That was until Jericho shrieked from pain, and then the stage caught ablaze.

With wide eyes, Destry put an arm around Jericho's waist to pull him aside a few steps out of the way, out of danger. "Stay here," Destry said to the man, then hurried over to the flames and ripped down one of the heavy stage curtains, and threw it upon the biggest part of the fire in an attempt to smother it and stop the blaze. (183)

—

Yasumi

This was completely off script. Even the botched script which Jericho handed Yasumi (that she did not bother to read, frankly) did not include this scene, this random monologue which was some half-witted attempt

"Would someone please make that buffoon get back on track?" Yasumi snarled, but to her great disconcertment, there was no staff nearby to yell at. All of her orders had been carried out down to the last man standing, and she stood alone overlooking her kingdom.

A kingdom which was now being set on fire before her very eyes. Even with the audience now getting pulled on stage, that did little to stop the disaster that was occurring at the Fox and Moon Inn.

Yasumi had to be impressed just for a second how Jericho managed to set a stone stage on fire, with his own candles that he brought. Apparently she could factor in for everything but stupidity.

Despite Destry's best efforts, the hungry flames spread quickly over stone and fabric, from all of Jericho's set dressings to the carefully tailored decorations of the Fox and Moon Inn. Smoke escaped to the sky in the open-air ballroom, thankfully, but it became apparent the party was over.

Yasumi's four fox familiars began to herd staff members and patrons alike as she cast her own hat aside to bark orders, pointing out the many escape routes of the Inn and organizing everyone neatly to escape with minimal trampling involved. Sadly, Yasumi had experience herding patrons away from danger-- the recent monster Paroxysm had given her far too much experience.

Yasumi also snatched some half-empty drinks from leaving patrons and drank them for herself. Long after the Raven's Watch was gone, their show would still be playing on the inside of her eyelids. [295]

—

Ioeth

The play did not improve. That was, perhaps, not noteworthy in itself, but the fact that it actively got a lot worse was actually kind of impressive. Ioeth had to admire the man’s perseverance, if nothing else—and perhaps the loyalty of his fellow actors and stage hands.

They had been considering moving outside, or perhaps further down into the dining hall, but the sudden note of worry in the audience’s murmur made them turn to the stage, eyes narrowed behind their dark glasses.

Fire. Ah, what else to crown this mess of an evening? They let themselves be swept away with the rest of the audience, keeping and eye out for Enn and Harrow and trying to avoid being jostled by other visitors, holding their skeletal arms very still under the cape. Yasumi’s unmistakable silhouette in the crowd made them avert their eyes and turn away, wishing for no further confrontation with the lady. The thought made something crawl along their spine; their weakness and unease turning into quiet ire.

Still, they spared a sympathetic thought to the Inn’s owner, hoping the place wouldn’t be too badly damaged; it would have been nice to visit under a different circumstance.

Finally outside, as the crowd dispersed among the scent of nightly blooms and the acrid smell of smoke, Ioeth drifted to one of the pools, the water glittering in the moonlight. They were still keeping an eye out for Enn, but carefully avoided looking at a shadowy, serpentine shape that seemed to linger in the water among the koi fish. (259)

—

Enn

This whole event, the play, the interaction; it'd at least be something to talk about. It hadn't taken this evening for Enn to swear these events off, that'd happened long ago, but it sure did reinforce his initial opinion.

Suddenly the quiet murmuring of the crowd under the sounds of one man doing a whole play by himself turned into gasps and shrieks of surprise, hurried footsteps and impatient people following. Enn saw it through a glimpse in the crowd; a fire had broken out. The man had to quickly shrug off the images that came to mind, the smell of fire too reminiscent for multiple near-death experiences, and he couldn't worry about that now.

Instead, Enn focused on the one he knew would freeze up next to him. He put a hard grip on Harrow's arm, almost a bruising one, and dragged them away from the scene. Only once outside did he let go, gaze wandering over to Io; they were hard to miss at least. "Well. That seems to be about our que to go." His attention is on Harrow, hoping they're okay at least. (187)

—

Harrow

Harrow had been quite enjoying themself up to the point the candlesticks were knocked over. Pastries, drinks, entertainment, annoying Yasumi, what wasn’t to like? They had mingled with the crowd after a little while, winding up near Enn again. As they leaned over to make a snarky comment to their friend, up on stage Jericho cursed and dropped a candle, knocking over the whole row. A wave of fire followed the motion, flames dancing on stone, spreading to the set pieces and soon climbing up the backdrop and consuming fake foliage. It was bright. So bright. They couldn’t look away, and several of their moths fluttered closer to the flames. Somewhere in the back of their mind Harrow wanted to run, but they stood frozen, transfixed and horrified. And then someone grabbed their arm abruptly and dragged them away through the jostling crowd. It took Harrow several minutes to realize it was Enn.

“..Y-yeah. Yeah.” Even now that they were outside in the cool night air they seemed dazed, eyes wide. “I.. I left my plate..” they said distractedly. As if that mattered- but the idea of their uneaten pastries getting burned up was quite tragic at the moment for some reason. (202)

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Lasair

The chaos that ensued soon after Destry's helpful intervention was an absolute riot to Lasair. Quite literally, in fact. What event had she been in lately that hadn't been complete without a little arson? Comfortable in the front rows as the fires spread, she outright laughed and applauded while her men around her stood and began ushering to either stamp out the flames like helpful peons, or aiding in evacuation. She wasn't worried, either for herself and company, or for Jericho who had been safely swept off the stage by heroic 'Romericho'. Jerry would be just fine.

"My my, I suppose that means curtain-close for us, darling," Lasair purred to Aleister, leisurely rising to her feet at his offered arm as said curtain (on fire, of course) crashed to the stage to accentuate her point. "Shall we?"

She took her sweet time exiting the hall with the eel still around her shoulders, which she had grown rather fond of by this point, actually. She commented on the daunting lack of safety management from the house - a room full of mages and not one suitable to dousing a fire? Really? - and stole a pastry on her way out from the high plate that neither Hazaiah nor Destry had really touched, along with the bribery bottle from only minutes prior. She tried the pastry, and said to Aleister that the ones she'd poisoned him and Divos with were far superior.

She had nothing good to say about the host, but the show itself? Ten out of ten, would highly recommend. What a fantastic night for the theater, and what a marvelous time for all involved. (264)

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