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Author Topic: Sight Lines  (Read 1666 times)

Description: tag: Merale

Offline Dubhghall Moriarty

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Sight Lines
« on: Jan 01, 18, 02:01:14 PM »
Auditions had been held, and if Dubhghall was being honest, far more people turned up than he ever expected.  At first, he bristled a little bit, as though everyone had come to stomp through his territory, but he soon relaxed.  It took a village to put on a good play, and there was no better village to join than the one he was with.  It was not entirely up to him, of course, it was more up to Epona, and others.  They whittled down the herd of wannabes, into a flock pretty-goods, and further down into a sewing circle of maybes.  It was not until the circle of maybes that Dug had any input at all.  They were casting for their play, and since he had the lead, testing with Dug, in character, would help sift the gold from the silt.

The gold had turned out to be a lovely red head named Merale Reid, she even had solid theater experience, which was more than could have been said about Dug at first.  They had tested well on the stage, though he regretted the fact that Epona would eventually return to running the show rather than treading the boards with him..  She had enough to do, he supposed, but she belonged on the stage, front and center, and not always working behind the scenes.  Dug had taken to the new leading lady, even though she seemed nearly as dramatic as he was.  He was always on, playing a role, and enjoying himself, and it seemed his stage partner was not too terribly different.

Merale would be playing a woman of the Blood, and he thought perhaps she might have some questions about that.  Also, he had found a few things that he needed to return to her.  One bottle of half-spent perfume, it was certainly hers, he recognized the scent.  One whalebone comb, one pewter brush—he was not sure about these two, but certainly she deserved them, she had lovely hair.  Dug found her dressing room, where he assumed she was either going over lines or napping, and knocked politely on the door.  ”It’s Dug, Merale, I’ve found some things of yours, and I wanted to return them, and see if you would like to have lunch or something.”

Offline Merale Reid

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Re: Sight Lines
« Reply #1 on: Jan 01, 18, 02:47:53 PM »
“Hold on, one second.” She called out, a hand pressing to her brow as she surveyed the disarray of her room. One would think the damn stage monkey had gotten in here and wreaked havoc, only it had not, this was all her doing. All over missing objects. No one had been in here, no one but her for the last few days. The rap at the door taking her by surprise she quickly pulled off her robe, crimson hair settling wildly across her shoulders as she considered her reflection with a frown.

Maybe she could even blame this on the monkey.  With a sigh she raked her fingers through her hair quickly enough, feathering bangs away from her brow and licking her lips. “One moment getting dressed!” She called out again, even though he hadn't pressed his impatience or knocked again. Gathering a dress from behind her screen, she pulled it on, a deep royal blue number, simple but complementary to her slim figure but most importantly, warm. Another flash through the mirror to check herself and she take a calming breath before opening the door to her small dressing room and opened the door a crack to peer out at him.  Even outside of the stage he was a handsome specimen, a little strange but otherwise cheerful. Merale smiled and slipped out, trying to obstruct his view into the deplorable state of her dressing area. “Dug, so nice to see you!”  She smiled, her voice though sultry maintained a graininess that came naturally. Hers was not Epona’s strong singing voice, but she knew how to command a stage and work the crowd. Dug had the same characteristics and the scenes performed alongside him had gone over exquisitely.

“Things o' mine?”  She asked, glancing down. A bottle of her perfume, and the missing comb and her brush. “Oh Dug, we must start labeling things for ye.” She sighed, gathering them all up. “I was tearing up my room looking for this.” Her hand grasped the comb, waving it in his face. It had been a gift from her mother long ago. The thought of losing it nearly sent her into a temper. The first week she had been greatly bothered by what she considered were thefts. It was only after Epona explained some of the situation, while still maintaining Dug’s privacy that she began to accept it. As long as the items were returned, and they often were, there was no harm. Still, it didn't mean she was accustomed to finding things missing especially since she had a habit of making to give everything its place.

“Lunch sounds wonderful. Let me put this away.”  A quick spritz of sweet jasmine perfume and the items tucked back away in her room. Smiling, she tugged at her dress, feeling a little less frazzled than before and settling back into her confident state. ”Would you mind if I picked your brain a bit? I have played Blood before, but I really want to get a feel for what its like, maybe even see you use a bit of Craft.” Smiling she drew closer to him, chin lifting. "Ill ask over lunch, no use in bogging you down now. How has your day been?"



Offline Dubhghall Moriarty

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Re: Sight Lines
« Reply #2 on: Jan 01, 18, 05:29:15 PM »
Dug waited patiently beside the door, leaning against the wall.  His head tilted slightly ashe listened to the sounds of movement from within the room.  She called out that she had to get dressed, and he chuckled.  ”I am sure it’ll be worth the wait, lass.  I’m not in a hurry.”  He waited a wee bit more, humming a tune to himself, something being considered for their production, in fact.  His patience was rewarded by the appearance of Merale in a rather pleasant bit of casual attire, elegant without being stuffy, and utterly complimentary to her farm.  She didn’t have to hide the state of her room, his eyes rested on her solely and easily.  ”It is good to be seen, and to see you, of course.”

He nodded at her question, and offered her the items he had somehow gathered into his possession.  Dug smiled when she offered to label things, and took them all, the comb in particular being a cherished item, clearly.  He was glad to have found it.  ”Then it is my pleasure to return that comb to you, if it brings you ay happiness.”  Dug frowned slightly, ”I am sorry I did not find it sooner, if its absence brought you any distress.”  He waited for her to put her things back in her room, and smiled when she agreed with him to lunch. It was only a brief moment more, before she joined him again.  ”You may do whatever you like.  I was hoping we would get to know each other a bit.  The audience must see our chemistry, and I think that will pop a bit more if we become more familiar.”

Dug chuckled and met her eyes as she drew near, ”You would not bog me down.”  He offered her is arm, after a florid stage bow, ”I secured us seats at a local eatery.”  he smirked, ”Nothing fancy, but they have the best Shepherd’s Pie in the territory, if you ask me.  We can talk all you like then, over food and drink.”

Offline Merale Reid

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Re: Sight Lines
« Reply #3 on: Jan 10, 18, 06:30:03 PM »
Dug could be so charming. His smile was infectious creeping up on the lips of others, even the grumpiest of faces. The man had a natural allure that went well beyond his Blood or any Craft he could employ. Nope, Dug’s appeal was in the easy way he went about most things. For example, some would be mortified to return items they had taken unwittingly or not and further admit to it. No, not Dubhghall Moriarty, he didn't even truly accede that he had taken a thing, only that it was found.  It had taken Merale some time to come to terms with this mostly through Epona’s encouragement, but overtime she learned that it was simply a compulsion that the handsome leading man had and it was never done in malice.

That alone was enough to earn him a quick forgiveness, even if it left a touch of lingering frustration. Sometimes it may get ahead of her but he would hopefully tolerate, if not ignore any future outbursts.  Her room could be put to rights when she returned and though she hadn't expected the gentleman caller to invite her to lunch, Merale was always prepared to accept unexpected. “Don't ye worry about it,  though next time I'll be slogging ye over the head with it. Fair warning Dubhghall.”  Though her words offered viable threat, her lips curled into a playful smirk. She did not doubt he was genuinely remorseful for causing her distress but she was never one to let anyone get away with things easily.

Once her dressing room was secured, and locked, she flicked her fingers through her hair and smirked. Tugging down the skirt of her dress she relaxed, taking his offered arm with a darling tilt of her head.  Spending time with him outside of the theatre was not a bad idea. They certainly proved they had the ability to play well off of one another and the audience loved the pairing. Enough so that the play was extended a few extra nights.  The story of ‘Cael and Siobhan’ could be a much greater hit. A challenge she was sure they could both rise to. “I completely agree and better yet we can discuss the play after we have a chance of becoming better acquainted.” Merale liked how he said the word “pop” by adding his own flare and vision behind the word.

Their world was so hectic, even for a small theatre troupe so a pleasant lunch with even better company was welcome, especially if it meant getting away for a little while.  It was only healthy, plus expounding for the ego as their faces were well known. “I know yeve been with Hammer & Anvil for a short time now, but what did ye do before this? Surely with ye learned to glamour the audience somewhere else.”  she asked as they made their way to the restaurant.  Merale  offered a soft, smile to the hostess who motioned them toward their seats.  Once settled, she reviewed the paper menu before deciding to settle on his previous recommendation of shepherds pie.

Offline Dubhghall Moriarty

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Re: Sight Lines
« Reply #4 on: Jan 12, 18, 10:51:43 PM »
Sincere apologies were always best.  Dubhghall knew that he had a problem, and that he was often inflicting it on others that may or may not have the patience for it.  He certainly did not want anyone to be distressed about it, unless he was stealing from a swindling shopkeeper, which was less of an accident.  He just never realized what his hands were doing, and then suddenly his pockets were full of something lost and found.  At least Merale accepted his apology, even if it came with a bit of a threat.  ”I understand, Lass.”  He looked properly chagrined for all of a heartbeat, and the Dug’s bright smile fell back into place.  ”I am glad we took this opportunity to discuss it.  I would not want any of this to reach the stage.”  Which was true, he did not want her to be annoyed with him, which would make other things more difficult.

He waited patiently for her, and offered his arm when she was ready to join him.  Dug nodded at her as she agreed with him.  ”Oh, I hoped that would be your wish as well.  It is good that we both agree.”  He walked along with her smiling, and producing flyers from thin air, placing them advantageously as they went along.  Dug made a lot of the flyers, and his handiwork was so well liked, it had led to drumming up some alternate business for him and Epona.  He was always happy to help, even if it was with calligraphy, not that he considered that before he became a professional maker of cards?  Advertisements?  Whatever it was, it made money.  Dug was always surprised by what people were willing to play for.

The slipped into the eatery, and he took a seat across from her.  The table was small, so it was an intimate setting for a luncheon.  Dug did not look at the menu; he ordered the shepherd’s pie straight off, and good dark stout to go with it.  His eyebrows rose at the question, ”Before?”  He considered how he should answer that question, and then charged ahead like he was describing a year abroad, and not being part of a criminal enterprise.  ”I belonged to a traveling troupe.  Not nearly as well produced, we had little in the way of a budget.”  Dug reached out to touch her hand, and lowered his voice.  Can I trust you to keep this between us?  Epona already knows, of course.”

Offline Merale Reid

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Re: Sight Lines
« Reply #5 on: Jan 16, 18, 10:42:06 PM »
“Please Dug we are professionals. Anyways, I've found that that a little tension off stage isn't necessarily bad for on stage chemistry.”  Merale was naturally flirtatious but it was so easy with Dug whose grin could tie a few knickers up in knots.  She didn't really mean much by it, though it lessen the discomfort in the aftermath of the well deserved threat. For the life of her she couldn't understand Dug’s compulsion with simply taking things, only to forget that he held them in the first place. Usually people who absconded with expensive items tended to hide the fact a lot better than he did.  The comb he took for example was a rather expensive antique and he could have sold it and made some marks at her expense, but he didn't. It made it easier to forgive him.

Blood were not so common, so to see one, even Jewel Less as Dug was conjure slips of paper from thin air filled her with a sense of awe. Just because Mother Night didn't see fit to match him with Jewels didn't make him weak, in fact he was a shark in a pool of fish. Luckily, this was a friendly carnivore, a danger only to shiny objects and shepherd's pie. Merale always thought the Blood had things relatively easy compared to landen. They had gifts just handed to them while landen had to struggle every day just to survive.  For the short time she had known Dubhghall Moriarty he did not give her the impression that he took anything for granted.

“May I see one?” She asked as he stopped from time to time to pin up a flyer for the Hammer & Anvil on another street post. Once a copy was handed to her she reviewed the elegant calligraphy and the drawing just above advertising their next play. The advertisement could have been printed by press, that was how good it was. “Darling, ye have the most artful handwriting. Do ye use a press? If not, we will have to get funds to get ye one. I can imagine playbills in the audience’s hands, advertisements in the back for local businesses. It would be brilliant.” She smiled, knowing he probably thought of that already. “Do we have cards? Business cards?” She asked curious. If she had a stack it would be a good way to network. Though her face and charm were enough to leave her well remembered, it didn't hurt to leave a physical representation behind.

Unfurling her napkin she folded it neatly over her lap. The restaurant wasn't finely furnished, but comfortable and welcoming as with most other pubs in the area. Quaint some called it, but the table was intimate and her company curious, so it worked out. The waitresses and serving staff were unassuming and clean. She smiled as they ordered and quickly had the young lass tending to them grinning from ear to ear. “Red wine, whatever ye have.”  Merale wasn't too picky and while a good ale sounded absolutely delightful she wanted to keep an air of mystique that wouldn't quite correlate with a foam mustache. Questioning his past as broadly as she did was just another way to make conversation, but she instantly knew she had touched upon something he wasn't quick to divulge. There was a noticeable shift in him, something far more guarded than she was used to from the sweet man. His hand brushed her fingertips, leaning forward against the small table. Instinctively she found herself drawing close, fingers warmed by his. “Of course ye can tell me. I won't say a word. I abhor gossip.”  Which was true, Merale could not think of much more distasteful than airing other’s laundry for the world to see. If anyone was going to see her bloomers it was because she pinned them up on the line, not someone who was so bored with their lives that they had to make a mess of someone elses.

Her lips tugged into a soft smile that quickly wilted into a more thoughtful expression. This would be her partner on stage, and he was entrusting her with something important.”Go on.”

Offline Dubhghall Moriarty

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Re: Sight Lines
« Reply #6 on: Jan 24, 18, 10:49:31 AM »
The career confidence man turned actor smiled brightly, "Oh, aye, we are professionals, but we are built on our emotions, are we not?  If there are sparks off-stage, it will be noticed on, an' if there are--bad feelin's, that will be felt too."  He shook his head slightly, "Best to be certain we're free an' clear of that."  Dug rather liked Merale, but to be fair, he rather liked a lot of people at the Theater.  It was hard for him not to.  They were the Family he had always wanted, and he did his best to make them happy, even if his own habits can sometimes make that difficult.  Epona forgave him, and that was really all that mattered.  Some others might have grudging feelings about his ability to find what they had clearly misplaced, but he never let that get too him too deeply.  Dubhghall was an actor, not a thief, it was just that his hands had a different idea about that.

Merale seemed thrilled by his simple ability to conjure items from nowhere.  He enjoyed the way that changed the scent of her as he walked beside her.  At her request, he handed her one of the hand drawn playbills, conjuring it with a flourish.  He watched her look them over, and he smiled at her praise.  "No, I've yet to see a press that can do the letters.  I suppose one can be made, but we would need someone that could make the stamps, an' so on.  I like making them the hard way, it keeps my hands occupied."  Epona's thoughts had run along similar lines, only he had completed custom orders, which had made the theater a little extra money.  Dug's coin went back into the theater, and he only kept enough to make necessary purchases, and even then, it was likely for the show they were producing.

Dug was confortably seated with her in the restaurant not long after, and he had been pelased she had taken his advice.  Her question was a personal one, but in the interest of the show, and perhaps other interests, he leaned forward to speak with her more privately.  She assured him that she was worthy of his trust, and he meant to gamble that she was.  It might not be the secret he thought, but only Epona knew the whole of it.  "I once ran a traveling troupe,but it was a sham, a disguise, a deceptive ruse.  We were thieves, confidence men, burglars."  He breathed a sigh and shrugged, "I fell in love with acting.  I had been a crook my whole life, but acting was what I loved.  I wanted out, and it did not go well for me.  Epona found me, and took me in."  His fingertips caressed hers as he finished.  "She offered me the job of a lifetime, so long as I left my old life behind, and I have."

Offline Merale Reid

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Re: Sight Lines
« Reply #7 on: Jan 24, 18, 02:02:58 PM »
Merale found it sweet and frankly pragmatic of Dug to be conscious of their chemistry on and off stage.  He was a perfectionist and she could appreciate his attention to detail, even though at the same time he was the most frustratingly absent minded thief she had ever encountered. Epona would explain it away as a quirk, and while Merale grew frustrated with not finding things were last she put them she knew that Dug did not intend to be infuriating. As long as she thought of it as a natural tendency she could forgive him. Dug made it very easy to do so. Making an active effort to return the items and get along well with the rest of the cast helped. The fact that the man could command a scene like an elegant ringmaster certainly made him sought after. The one play they had worked on together had gone over so splendidly that Merale found herself eager for a repeat.  “Now, why would I have bad feelin’s towards ye Dug?”   She asked in the sing songy way she did when she sought to tease.  The poor fellow felt bad enough about his affliction and she wasn't about to hold it over his head, but a little bit of fear was healthy and lent caution to absent minds.  “Honestly, I have nothing but affection for ye, but ye’re right, best ta’ be certain.”   Squeezing his arm against her size she smiled, her steps lengthened but graceful as she kept an easy pace with him.

The flyer popped into existence and she smiled delightedly at this as she looked it over and paid him a genuine compliment on his penmanship.  “Well that's why ye’ll have to carve out the stamps yerself.  Can you imagine how much faster ye’ll get these made? Epona can have the tall banners she loves without the cost. It sounds like a fine investment to me. “ Chuckling she handed him the flyer back. “Well then, we will have to find other things ta keep yer hands busy now won't we?”   She knew exactly how that sounded the moment the words slipped from her tongue, but Merale was not one who was easily embarrassed and it was easier to just commit to what she said, punctuating the flirtation with a wink.

In for a penny, in for a pound. “Ye work too hard, and it will free ye up for more lunches, or rehearsals. Darkness knows ye can never have too much.” Considering how sideways things could go during stagings and dress rehearsals at the Hammer & Anvil, a little extra time to dive into their characters could only make things better.

The waitress returned with their drinks as Dug rested his hand on hers and asked for her secrecy. Trust was precious, every ounce of its weight earned and she knew she would not betray the sanctity of it.  Gossip had ruined the lives of good people and she had seen first hand the destruction if left behind, a virulent poison poured into the ears of its victims. Hamlet was so apropo.

He explained a bit of his past and it was not what she expected to hear. For a split second she thought he was being a wee clipe and telling tails on her, but the faraway way his fingers stroked her hand made her feel differently.  It could however very well explain his habits and how he had little control over them. “So, the taking of things, ye really don't notice? Like it's second nature?”  She couldn't imagine this kind, cheerful man, being violent in any way.  Merale had to remind herself that he was Blood and his kind were always a passionate, volatile race beneath the surface.  “Are ye free now?”   She asked, her primary concern rising to the surface of her thoughts, if not for his sake, then for that of the entire theatre troupe, but mostly for him.  “Were y’hurt?”

Offline Dubhghall Moriarty

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Re: Sight Lines
« Reply #8 on: Jan 31, 18, 04:52:54 PM »
Dubhghall Moriarty that his was a particular kind of personality.  He assumed he was adored, because, honestly; how could people not?  He also understood that like wine, he might be an acquired taste.  His charm, he believed, overcome many of his quirks.  The fact that he continued to find things was just his own good fortune, and the good fortune of the owners that belonged to the items.  He had a very loose sense of property, he supposed, and he knew very well when he was stealing something on purpose, as opposed to when he was doing it without realizing it.  Dug just preferred to characterize it in a less sinister fashion.  In a way, he was like a raven, attracted to shiny objects, and always grabbing them without thinking about it.  "Surely, you are too kind, Merale."

He was pleased that she was entertained by his small expression of Craft.  He would gladly encourage her delight for hours on end, now that he knew.  Och, I'm not sure I'd be terribly good at carvin' out a rubber block.  It's different from drawing a thing, aye?  A different set of skills,but I suppose ai could give it a try."  Dug could imagine, a few stamps, a little Craft, and he could produze several at a time, until they had dozens.  "We should go together and mention this to her, since it was your idea."  he made the fly disappear with a flourish, and his eyebrows rose slightly, and he laughed.  "Oh, sweet Lady, I can think of many places my hands would not be idle in your company."

Dug shrugged slightly, "It's not work, really, when you enjoy it as much as I do."  He grinned, brightly, and somehow left the impression of a very pleased fox.  "Though a bit of company wouldn't hurt, and there can be lunches and rehearsals aplenty,especially if Epona agrees to your mass production plan."  The drinks arrived, and Dug did not move his hand, or stop leaning towards her.  He could just about sample the scent of her, and it was pleasant, not just psychically, whatever it was she was wearing, or her personal scent was quite pleasing to him.  Dug shared his past with her, at least a part of it, and at her first question, he shook his head.  "I have been a thief since I was able to walk, practically.  It was how I earned the right to stay at the orphange, so--no, I truly do not notice.l"  He made a bit of a face, "I call it finding, because--that is far better than stealing and returning, but it cannot be helped."  Dug nodded seriously, "I am free."

He lowered his gaze and nodded, "Yes, I was.  That was how Epona found me, I was disposed of, and she took me in."

Offline Merale Reid

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Re: Sight Lines
« Reply #9 on: Feb 25, 18, 11:41:24 AM »
“I don't need the credit, though if ye trace the block, carvin’ it should be a breeze. Only I think ye’ll have to draw it backwards.” She thought. “Like a mirror image.”  It made sense, so when the screen of ink passed over the stamp it would transfer correctly on paper. Of course this would only work if they could make individual stamps to add dates so that one massive stamp wasn't needed and then discarded after a few uses. “Ye can even do lithographs, and sell them fer a sweet pinch.” Epona was always looking for new and creative ways to fund their projects. Having a working press in the theatre could provide a revenue stream even if it meant making a sizable investment up front. “Perhaps I will go, I have a friend in my old troupe who could lend me a stamp so she can have a look at it. Nothing is as persuasive as a visual aid.” She smirked at him, arching a brow at the obvious flirtation. As of yet his hands were quiet idle. “Dug, you do surprise.”

It wasn't as if he wasn't attractive. Blood had their tastes but she rarely saw it extended toward the Landen. It was as if they were considered a bit too fragile to withstand the ardent attentions of those blessed by the Darkness. Or some such bullycock. Sure the Blood were powerful and she certainly had no plans to ruin herself on a Warlord Prince but Dug was gentle on his own while still retaining a sense of danger and mystique she found so alluring.

The intimate setting of their lunch did not go unnoticed. It was funny how two actors could create a space of their own in a full room, everything else just blended into the background. Relenting her hand for his gentle caresses. His nose flared slightly and she could tell he was breathing in the subtle notes of expensive perfume. The floral bouquet matched well with the natural oils of her skin. Merale had learned long ago to be discerning of such things. Just because a fragrance smelled divine in the bottle didn't mean it would do a woman any favors. No, they had to be a perfect match to come together beautifully. For her it was jasmine. Luckily Dug was kind enough to return the bottle that unexpectedly made its way into his pockets.

Without going into too much detail he explained his thoughts on his compulsion. Merale wanted to press for more details as stories were a thing of art and personal struggles could be useful tools to harness on stage. Only it felt like an intrusion so she contented herself in knowing he had told her more than he had most, except for of course Epona. “Disposed of? That's terrible.” The frown creased her lips, stretching to the corners of her mouth. Noting the way he looked down at the table as if reliving the memory, she turned her hand giving his fingers a soft, reassuring squeeze. “One man’s garbage is another man’s treasure and ye Lord Dubhghall Moriarty are that to all who know ye. Also, the way I figure it with that dreadful monkey wreaking havoc throughout the stage and our rooms yer likely to come across more than ye usually pick up. This could be useful.” Offering him a soft smile she rested her chin on her hand looking rather interested in a conversation with the mn across from her. “So our next play, any thoughts?”

Offline Dubhghall Moriarty

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Re: Sight Lines
« Reply #10 on: May 27, 18, 07:08:27 PM »
Dug regarded Merale with his head slightly tilted, a motion that accented his vulpine features, a mix of both mischief and calculation.  ”You should get something for your creativity, love.  Never undersell yourself.”  He smiled, ”Backward ye say?  Like a mirror?  I think you have perhaps too good an impression o’ my artistic talents.”  Dubhgall accounted himself a man of words, but he did not think he was terribly familiar with what a lithograph was, even if he could break it down into its parts, as he had been taught long ago.  ”A lithograph?  Do you mean sell the art we post out on the boards for people to see?”  His eyebrows rose, ”I definitely think you should tell Epona that idea yourself.  Anything that brings us a bit more money and lets us keep the doors open is to be tried and even celebrated, especially if it doesnae cost a mint to start up.”

  He was never worried about being potentially too forward, not with another thespian.  There was very little in the way of privacy backstage.  Clothes came on and off for costume changes with alarming alacrity, and an equally surprising lack of modesty; all for the sake of the show.  Merale was a beauty, and they had chemistry, or he certainly believed they did, and there was no reason that had to remain on the stage.  Though, if pressed, Dug would have admitted that the stage was where it would be best displayed.  There, at their private little table, it was a show only for the two of them.  It never occurred to him that the Landen Lady Thespian would hold him on some level above here.  Everyone was equal under a theater roof.

Dug nodded in agreement, and there was not a hint of drama in it.  It had been a terrible experience, there was no hiding that much.  He smiled when she squeezed his hand, and he chuckled when she called him ‘Lord’, and even used his somewhat proscribed Clan name.  Though, he had never met another, he sometimes wondered if the name would one day catch up with him, as he worried about everything catching up to him from time to time.  ”I am certainly better than the monkey, though he wears a good vest from time to time.”  He returned her smile, meeting her lovely eyes.  ”All my thoughts are currently about you.  I have revealed a bit of myself.  What made such a lovely woman dedicate herself to being other people for a living?”

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Re: Sight Lines
« Reply #11 on: Jun 29, 18, 09:20:07 PM »
“Ill get ye a print, something ye’ll sink yer teeth inta.” Sometimes the best way to understand what someone was looking for artistically was to witness it themselves. She still had quite a few contacts within her old troupe. One had to be sure to make nice with more than just the players, but the stage crew as well. They were the eyes, ears of the stage when it came to the vision. One of them could easily get her a stamp she could use. Perhaps she could even ask for a blank one that Dug could practice on.  Yes, that seemed brilliant.  “Ill mention it to ‘er when we have what we need. Let her see the product. Ipona is a woman of vision, I have no doubt she will agree that yer talent is worthy of immortalization. That's what print is anyways. “

Merale smiled  at him, the corners of her lips turning up in a studious but enigmatic way. It wasn't hard to get a read on Dug. He was an honest man, eager to express himself on stage, always the life of the party. More than that he was a kind soul, something that was somewhat of a rarity. And while they hadn't known one another long, their time spent on stage more than in private booths like this one, she couldn't shake the idea that there was something a little darker about him. It didn't frighten her through, which was a dangerous thing to consider when it came to the Blood. Even Jeweless Blood like Dug could squash Landen like bugs, but that just wasn't him.

Merale found herself engrossed in the conversation. Having shared something so personal, Dug did not seem at all phased by it, as if he was speaking of someone else that he used to know and not himself. Instead of discussing work, her fellow leading man was eager to continue getting acquainted. Pleased, she smiled again, drawing two fingers under her chin and into the hollow of her throat. “He does that. They keep the monkey remarkably well dressed.” Chuckling, her shoulder shrugged her shoulder as if she were about to brush off his question. Only a moment of pause made her consider  her next words. She could fluff it up and tell him it was a calling, the same scripted response she would always give, or like him, she could be herself long enough to share the truth. He’d done it after all. Repaying him with anything less just felt wrong. “My mother was a maid for a small theater where I was from. I was raised in some ways at the playhouse, sitting in the catwalks, watchin’ players in hiding. She wasn't supposed ta have me there, but poor landen have little recourse but ta break a few rules ta get by.  It was marvelous, sittin up there watching stories unfold from just behind the curtains. Especially seeing the face of the audience, that moment when they are transported someplace different...you know the one.”  Merle smiled delicately and picked up her pint, taking a sip. She could still remember those days when the mystique of theater was her personal refuge.

“Eventually I was found out, but they didn't fire me mum, instead, I was welcomed. I worked hard, and eventually was cast as a child in me first play.” It wasn't all roses, there was the endless teasing, the politics in theater but that was not something she was quite willing to share. Nor was the reason the troupe was practically forced to raise her. “My mother became ill, Healers could do nothing because the sickness was in her brain. Overtime I made a name for myself and here we are. I suppose we all want ta be someone else from time ta time. Why just settle on just one?”

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Re: Sight Lines
« Reply #12 on: Oct 26, 18, 02:36:35 PM »
Dug grinned at the suggestion and nodded, that sounded fine.  He was terribly intrigued by the entire idea, as well as the idea of somehow leaving a more permanent mark on the world.  The theater troupe deserved that much.  He had enough of an ego to want to be ‘immortalized’, but whether or not he wanted that, it was all ultimately up to Epona.  She would be the one to decided whether or not the notion was worth the investment.  They could make more than flyers then, they could create keepsakes, reminders of a wonderful night at the theater.   ”We shall have to make sure Epona sees one of these prints as soon as possible.  We could be denying our public something they want and need after an evening with us; a keepsake—a souvenir of their time with us, them under dim lights, us up and out trodding the boards.”

The monkey was a minor annoyance, but it was one that he could live with.  Putting up with the little creature meant they had additional talent to add to the troupe, and that was always a good thing.  ”Well, if ye’re after keepin’ a monkey, it may as wlel be a well dressed one.”  He chuckled at the motion, and fell silent to listen to Merale answer his question regarding herself.  As interesting as her idea about the prints really was, they were supposed to be there to explore and improve their chemistry.  He thought that part of things was coming along quite nicely, despite his confession about his own history.  It was not exactly a secret, and once told, it was easily left behind as far as he was concerned.  ”Aye, I do ken the lookyou’re describing.  I have been chasing that wonder since I first set foot on a stage.”  His smile remained infectious, ”So, in some small way, you were born for the theater.  You have been a part of it all your life.”

Dug laughed, ”So, they found you lurking, and put you to work.  Why, you had all the education you ever needed right there in front of you.”  He grew serious for a moment, ”I am sorry about your Mother.”  He covered her hand with his, ”I never had one to know, so in that, you should count yourself as fortunate.  At least she saw you become an actor and I’m sure she was very proud of you, love.”  He nodded knowingly, ”We do get to wear many faces, and live many lives.  That’s part of the joy of it.  That is the reason I fell in love with it—I was already pretending, already telling stories for nefarious reasons, but those tales always ended the same way.  I wanted to see it all, tragedy, ecstasy, mystery and laughter.  And here we are.”  Dug withdrew his hand to have a drink.  ”So, what is the worst role you ever played?”

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Re: Sight Lines
« Reply #13 on: Oct 31, 18, 11:21:27 PM »
The idea of immortalizing their plays in some physical, tangible, form seemed revolutionary to Merale. The walls of her wardrobe where papered in pamphlets and posters of plays she had seen or participated in and while they made wonderful mementos they were also large and clunky. Many of the playbills were copied by hand so imperfect. If they could get a printing press, they could create perfectly identical bills and with a rubber stamp they could eventually move on to molds and ceramic keepsakes. Dug  was inspired of what he could create and share with the world, while Merale considered the profits the theater company could make.  There was always the cost of repairs that needed to be made, costumes and elaborate sets that called to crowds, all of which costed a great deal of money.

“I wouldn't mind a picture of that handsome face on my wall.” Dug was Blood which made him a quite dangerous prospect for Merale. Even some idle flirtation could be risky. Then again Dug was at his core a nice man, pleasant enough around the theatre and he came off as genuine. Especially when he was looking at her with such interest.

“Look at ye puttin a positive spin on things. Nevermind its still chaos in a suit.” No she wasn't a fan of the monkey, but the damned thing was a curiosity and it did seem to amuse the rest of the cast. Even Dug.  Smirking she raised her pint, taking a sip. A finger brushing her lip when she was done to make certain there was no lingering moisture over her painted mouth.

“It could very well be the best thing that happened to me. “ she nodded in agreement. The theatre had given her a family. Every member of that troope filled her world, even when her everything had been lost. Upon her mother's death, Merale found herself surrounded by the protective cocoon of her second home.  Though her smile faltered she shrugged a shoulder, quickly raising the corners of her lips again. Her mother changed with the sickness, she was cruel and critical, jealous of her daughter for her youth. Merale liked to think there was pride somewhere deep inside. The disease was not her fault, she was just a victim of it. “Ye’re very kind.” she offered, squeezing his hand. “Ye didn't know yer mum at all? What of your father?”

Tilting her head she considered. Dug not only pulled himself away from a disreputable life, but built something new with the skills he had learned. “Oh I played a pickpocket when I was nay higher than yer knee. Not only was I a boy, but I was a terrible pick pocket, during one show I tripped on the pleats of the terrible trousers they put me in and me cap rolled into a stage flame. Poof up like kindling. Then one time I played Madam White in the Pot Boiler. The lines were horrendous and the director felt that unless we emoted as loud as we could the audience would not be able to feel our passion.”  Clenching her fist she held it to her chest dramatically and laughed. “What about you darling?”

Offline Dubhghall Moriarty

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Re: Sight Lines
« Reply #14 on: Feb 22, 19, 11:10:29 AM »
Dug was genuinely flattered by the compliment.  He absolutely considered himself a good reason to attend any play or theatrical production that he was in, whether he was the star or one of the supporting actors.  There are no small parts, only actors too small to make the most of them.  He had never been small, not even when he had been engaged in various criminal enterprises.  Dug had never considered his work hanging on the walls of theater-goers as a memorabilia, a reminder of their experience in the theater, and the people that had been responsible for giving them such.  He grinned at Merale, ”But ye can seem me any time ye like, and I can enjoy yours.”

He shrugged mildly, ”Laugh or cry, as the play says.  It’s all too easy to see a thing an’ see the worst in it.  That’s no way to live.”  He watched her have another drink, and the way she traced her lip.  Dug cleared his throat, ”I am sure that it WAS the vest thing to happen to you.  It has given you a life of many lives.  You can tell stories, and be anyone you wish to be.”  He could sense the emotion in her, the slight change in her psychic scent, and what she broadace from her person in the way she simply sat in her chair.  She squeezed his hand, and he covered hers for a moment with his other hand.  ”No.  I knew neither.  The orphanage was it, and well, ye ken that story now.”

Dug chuckled, ”A pickpocket?”  He produced a coin in his free hand, and made it disappear, before he then reached out and pull the coin seemingly from between the fingers of her hand where it held onto one of his.  ”No Craft, either.  Craft makes it easier, but it is mostly about distraction.  A pickpocket should have been fun—save for the fire, o’ course.”  He laughed and smiled at that, ”I’ve been villains and heroes, I’ve been highwayman number two, or was it three?”  He shook his head, ”Before I joined the troupe, I had a travelin’ troupe of me—of my own, it was what gave me the bug.  The Orphanage used it to fleece what we use to call ‘hard targets’.  We’d get hosted by some laird or such, an’ see what was worth takin’.  I ne’er liked that. It felt wrong at the start, an’ I just wanted to put on a show!”  He half- smiled, "I dinnae tell folks about that often, but it was the worst role I had."

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Re: Sight Lines
« Reply #15 on: Feb 28, 19, 06:43:12 PM »
“Cannae now? Well. Then we’ll have ta do this again. Some experiences are worth repeating. This one is. ”  Was she being a little bold? Yes absolutely. Dug made her comfortable to be so without having to fake it. The Blood were intimidating but Dug had this natural charisma that warmed him to others. Merale could see the appeal.
Talking about her past, especially about her mother, was always difficult. Merale did not want to be pitied, she wanted to be great something she would achieve all on her own.  Life was not easy, not with the hunger and the abuse she experienced, but as Dug said, it made her who she was now.  Death was not the hammer that came down on her head, but a door opening to a different life.  She didn’t delude herself into thinking that her experiences would be vastly different were she to have a sane mother. A piece of her had always wished for some sense of normalcy, if only because that meant she could fit in.

You are meant to stand out, not in.

Those words resonated with her to this day. It was something the theatre owner of her first troupe always said. 

He squeezed her hand, covering it beneath the warmth of his palm. Merale looked at him and smiled gently. Maybe she could fit in as well.

It was astonishing how little information he withheld from his past, and yet she had the impression she had yet to hear the worst of it. He spoke of the orphanages roll in molding him into a thief and how he had first found his passion on stage. “Part a being a competent actor is becoming an extraordinary liar. Everything else is just staging and presence. The problem is when we star ta believe our own bullshite which is the danger in our profession.”  She chuckled gently, lifting her chin to motion to the coin. Her hand never once moved from his.  “How did you distract me there? Teach me?”

Offline Dubhghall Moriarty

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Re: Sight Lines
« Reply #16 on: Jul 12, 19, 12:52:14 PM »
”Oh, aye, ye’ll just have to be sure an’ do that.  I’m never too far away, an’ now I’ve an exellent reason to be close at hand.”  There was certainly chemistry here, and why not lean into it.  It would be very good for the show, and possibly very good for the both of them.  Dug considered the ramification of such a thing, briefly.  He was not one to dwell on ‘what ifs’ and ‘maybes’, when ‘right now’ held so many more attractive choices.  ”Any time you’d like to come here again, ye have only to say the word.”

The Actor knew that he had something of an advantage in any interaction that he had with any Landen, male or female.  He was Blood, and even without a Jewel, he could do things that they could not.  He could know things that they could not perceive, and as a result, barely understand.  It was part of what made him such a good performer.  He was talented, he had been acting all of his life, really, for profit and under threat.  Seduction was not typically his game, but he found that he was willing to give it a try, even if the odds were in his favor.  Dug continued to hold her hand in his, feeling the warmth of it, and the psychic contact made easier by skin touching skin.

Dug considered Merale’s words, comforting her with a squeeze of her hand, and his smile.  He tilted his head slightly, ”It is a true lie, though.  We pretend to be someone other than who we are, we live the lie to show the audience the truth.  If it were just falsehoods, everyone would be doing it.”  He laughed, ”I dinnae think I’m in any danger o’ believin’ me own nonsense, I’ve been professionally leveragin’ words for too long.”  He tilted his head slightly, ”Distraction is easy, even when ye’re lookin’ right at a thing.  Everyone has expectations.  Expectations distract ye, an’ most folks dinnae ken that it’s happenin’.”    He did the trick more slowly, but at the point of appearance, he squeezed her hand and gave her a disarming smile.  ”That was it really.”


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Re: Sight Lines
« Reply #17 on: Jul 16, 19, 05:44:48 PM »
“Say the word? Well, I'm hopin’ by then ye’ll be able to read between tha lines.”  They were both beginning to understand one another and for Merale’s part, she found that exciting. Dug didn’t intimidate her like some other Blood did.  There was always a sense of fear that lingered just below the surface when interacting with their kind. They were more passionate, easier to anger and frankly, dangerous. Dug was all those things. She had witnessed it first hand on stage but he had yet to say an angry word to anyone in her presence.  Merale might have fallen into a false sense of security, but she didn’t care. Dug was genuine and his honesty earned him some trust. “I will be rememberin’ that whenever I need an escape inta reality.”  He was grounding, which she liked.

Dug’s thumb stroked the satin flesh of her hand. She had known what it meant to work with those hands, to pull lights up into the catwalks, to have coarse ropes dig into her palms before she found her true skills.  In the old troupe, she had to earn her keep and that meant being a part of nearly every aspect of the stage, the nitty and the gritty alike. Once she had discovered her calling as a thespian the days of oil paint clinging to her finger beds or the scuffs on her knees from building sets were behind her.  She had never lost her appreciation for good craftsmanship, not that she was particularly skilled as a stage hand. It was in front of an audience where she shined. Dug did too, which added to his allure.

“I suppose that’s true. It becomes real fer us, in that very moment. Whether Im playing a lady or a pauper, they are me and I them. I can see an honesty, maybe even a little delusion in it. Me mother was convinced, during one of her more lucid times, that in order to be a good actor, ye have ta give up some sanity. I thought she was mad, well because, she was…but there is wisdom in those words.” 

Merale had asked him to show her how he had completed the trick. Intrigued she listened as he spoke of distractions and smiled playfully at him. She watched as he pulled out the coin and once more worked through the trick, just as he obscured it behind his fingers and was due to pluck it from her own hand did he pause, cupping her hands. She blinked, smirked and shook her head at him. “Yer doin it again, distractin' me.” She accused slyly.  It was a clever ploy, his winsome smile had nearly lured her in and if she was being honest, she hadn’t been freed from it just yet. “This is where ye try and slip it between me fingers? Or run yer hands through my hair and magically pluck it from the back of me ear?” She really wanted to know how it ended, even if the most entertaining part was watching him perform the trick.

Offline Dubhghall Moriarty

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Re: Sight Lines
« Reply #18 on: Oct 21, 19, 02:55:52 PM »
Dug grinned at her, and there was a world of mischief in that expression.  ”Read between the lines, aye?  Well then, shall I be whiskin’ ye away whene’er I think the mood is right?”  He chuckled warmly then, settling a little closer to her her as he learned a little forward on the smallt able between them.  He was Blood, and Merale was lovey, and he couldn’t be too sure about what she was asking.  He could read the surface of her only, though touching her made her emotions more clear.  He could not reach for more, not with a Landen.  He had to put his trust in other instincts.  The actress might well be a little wary of him, and with good reason, but she was also curious.  He liked that.  ”I hope ye remember it well then.”

His hands were gentle, capable of great dexterity and delicate work.  They were not without the calluses of hard work.  He had earned them in his youth, and they had never completely faded, but his fingertips were soft and unmarred.  It was an easy think to caress the young woman’s hand, and occasionally rest those sensitive fingertips over her pulse when he curled two fingers against her wrist.  Dug laughed at what her mother had said about acting, ”I think that she might be right, in part.  I think we are simply more human, more real, more emotional.  You and I can live many lives, most can only live the one.  If we were all actors, we might better see into each others hearts, and better the world.”

Dug nodded slowly, ”Aye, I am, but ye dinnae seem to mind.  The distraction can be anythin’ just about.”  He continued to smile along with his instruction.  ” Yes, this is when that happens.”  He reached out and ran his fingers through her hair, gently caressing the curve of the shell of her ear, but he produced no coin.  He ran his fingertips along her fingers, turning her hand over to do so, and stroking the length of each one.  Still no coin, and then he pointed at her other hand, where it was gently curled on the table, and when she turned it over and opened it, the coin was there.  ”There’s always more than one choice.”

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Re: Sight Lines
« Reply #19 on: Nov 01, 19, 11:39:30 AM »
A slow smile crept across her coral freckled cheeks.  Dug was flirting, and she knew the type, charming without being overbearing, confident while still maintaining an air of mischievousness. He was better at it than most, then again he was also an actor which gave him a library of faces and made up experiences to chose from.  She wondered if he ever noticed that exactly what he was doing, or if every experience was just a new one to live.  Her smile broadened and she shrugged a shoulder as his thumb traced the velvet flesh of her pulse. “If yer bold enough, then I might not mind getting’ carried away with ye.” He leaned forward and she felt her heart skip. It wouldn’t have been such a big deal if he was Landen, her reaction to his proximity could have been masked by her teasing expression, but as he was Blood she knew his senses were more than capable to picking up even the slightest fluctuation in her anatomy.

There was something terrifying and at the same time exciting about that. Dug had the ability to end her life with nothing more than a mental whisper, or thread as they called it. Compared to the Blood, even unjeweled as he was, she was fragile, like crystal and that was not something Merale ever considered she was.
He was certainly cunning and distracting. Try as she might to keep up with his nimble fingers she could not hide the grin that spread across her lips when he touched her hair, or how her chin lifted with interest. She tried to keep her eyes on the coin, on his hands to catch the fake out that was surely coming, and yet, there was none. She had completely missed it, either by his impressive skill or equally impressive Craft. The coin just appeared beneath her other hand, she had not felt it resting there against the table. “How..yer tricky Lord Moriarty. I like it.”   Lifting the coin between her two fingers palm out the mark rolled between each digit before disappearing to the back of her hand. Sure he knew it was there, there was no real magic to it, but there didn’t have to be. She had a couple tricks herself.

“So that begs the question. If ye could live one life.” She raised a single, slender digit close to his eyes. Bent her fingers and offered him back the coin nestled between her knuckle. “Just the one fer the rest of yer days. If you could be anything, do anything…what would ye be? What could be Dug’s final curtain call?”