[Studio of Yae Varone] A Lavish Life (Valerius Nitrozian)

[Auguste]

Ravok - The Studio of Yae Varone 20th of Spring, 512 AV He stood amidst the many wealthy men and women who surveyed the paintings, sculptures, and artworks of Yae Varone's studio, his clothes of a lesser quality, of a more humble extravagance that only made the more experienced, frequent visitors assume him to be another member of security, blending in with his tasteful, yet comparatively mediocre ensemble. Yet Auguste felt at home beside them, in front of them, and behind them all, preferring their muted chatter to the loud and boisterous sounds of any other Ravokian tavern. Some eyed him curiously, while others paid him no mind, but none ever glared. It might've been his charm, his gait, or the glint in his eyes as he examined every work of art that hung or stood, or it could be everything. What he loved the most were the landscape paintings, as they appeared so strangely nostalgic and ridiculously familiar, especially to the eyes of a seasoned traveler. It frustrated him so, as he viewed one of a lush, vibrantly green forest, that he could not pinpoint that small memory that buried itself deep inside his mind, one that reminded him exactly of the forest that was portrayed. Each and every gentle stroke of the painter's skilled hand represented the thousand different frames that he'd witnessed between the blinking of his eyes, as an image so fluid and clear could not have simply been imagined. It was seen, experienced, and felt. Auguste's stomach threatened to ache as he moved to gaze upon another landscape, he was hoping to have some of Yae Varone's famous pastries and coffee, but insisted with his own apetite that he'd save the best for last. Art was not something he was completely devoted to, to say the least, but the talent exhibited by the works in the studio deserved nothing but appreciation and awe. It was no wonder that the area was reserved for the rich and capable. The painting was a lot more different than the former; the strokes were larger, as they swirled together to form harsh waves lapping at a warm, golden beach. Auguste had never seen anything like it in real life, as he'd hardly ever been anywhere but Syliras and Ravok, but the sight was beautiful all the same. The aquamarine waters, the fine sands, and the light blue sky were enough for his imagination to run rampant; he could almost feel the cold waves splashing at his bare feet as they sunk into the warmth of the beach, the cool salty air caressing his skin and blowing his hair away from his face. It was as if the paintings were imbued with magic, as they so easily led viewers to identify with them, to experience them firsthand as the painter might have. He slowly sauntered off to view the other paintings and artworks as his stomach began to growl in disagreement, but he wasn't about to satisfy his growing hunger for Yae Varon's treats until all was viewed, appreciated, and imagined. "You'll never cease to amaze me," he mused, to nothing, nor to anybody in particular, though it might as well have been for Rhysol. RECEIPT- 30 GM for the Entrance Fee to the 2nd Floor of The Studio of Yae Varone.

[Valerius Nitrozian]

Truth to be told, Valerius Nitrozian was not a lover of art. Staring at paintings for bells on end and trying to find some deeper meaning behind them didn’t do anything for him. Neither did he enjoy painting or making sculptures himself. He preferred the mysteries of foreign languages and secrets codes, of complicated puzzles to whatever Yae Varone happened to exhibit at her gallery at the time. He mostly visited the upper floor because it was expected of a member of society. People like him were supposed to appreciate art. He also came here because he enjoyed the atmosphere. It was so much more to his liking than the taverns where the common citizens mingled. Everybody was much calmer, much more well behaved and the people here actually had something worthwhile to say every now and then! He came here to see and be seen. While Auguste’s outfit was rather mediocre, the auburn haired Nitrozian was dressed extravagantly – maybe a bit too extravagantly – in deep blue and gold and silver, and his boots were made of shimmering black leather. He moved from painting to painting, looking at each one intently as if he were thinking about it, occasionally glancing at the people around him to see if there was anybody worth talking to. He stopped in front of the painting of the beach. It had surprisingly enough caught his attention, maybe because it was so different from what he was used to. His travels had never taken him further than Zeltiva. He had never seen a place like this one before. As he heard Auguste’s comment, he furrowed his brow and looked at him. „Do you mean the artist?“ he wondered. The man looked more like he worked here than one of the patrons, he decided, but still, he seemed to be worth talking to. There was just something about the way he held himself. „This is what the coast near Ahnatep must look like“, he murmurred. „I learned about the Eypharians when I attended the University of Zeltiva“, he added. „Their home sounds like one of the most beautiful places in the world.“

[Auguste]

The waves retracted, the sands drained, the soft sea breeze halted, and the warmth of the sun dissipated. A brief sensation of falling filled Auguste's body as he felt his feet planted upon the solid hardwood floors of Yae Varone's studio, his eyes staring into a mere image once more, and not into the deep blue sea. His reverie was disrupted by a male voice, one that came from a young man who stood nearby him. "Do you mean the artist?" he inquired, as he looked at him with furrowed brows. Auguste turned towards the man; he hadn't realized that he'd spoken his last thought out loud, but remained composed. "You could say that," he replied simply, with a cordial smile. He turned towards the painting once more as the stranger spoke again. "This is what the coast near Ahnatep must look like," he spoke in a hushed tone. "I learned about the Eypharians when I attended the University of Zeltiva," he added, "their home sounds like one of the most beautiful places in the world." Auguste nodded slowly, taking in both the man's words and even more of the painting. "I'd love to visit," the raven-haired man replied, as he turned to look at the man beside him, "have you ever been there?" He turned to view the man as he asked. He was shorter than Auguste, but his ensemble was a mix of royal blue, silver, and gold, complete with a pair of magnificent leather boots. He had upstaged not only him, but practically everybody else in the room. His dark auburn hair was combed to perfection, and his eyes were a brilliant blue. He stood tall and confidently; clearly this was a man of wealth and importance. "I've never been to Zeltiva, though I have heard of their university. I'm quite interested in traveling there and attending a few courses. Unfortunately, my commitments in Ravok keep me from leaving," he said, chuckling slightly. As he turned his gaze away from the man, he noticed that many other visitors of the studio were glancing and peering at him. For a moment, he wondered just how important the man next to him may be, but was not intimidated by the possibilities. After all, he came over to Auguste and started up a conversation, he couldn't possibly be bad.

[Valerius Nitrozian]

„Unfortunately I’ve never been to Ahnatep either“, he replied with a hint of regret. His voice was low so as to not disturb those that were looking at the paintings. A loud conversation in an art gallery was completely unacceptable in his opinion. „I only ever heard about it from my professors. They told me that the houses of the Eypharians are veritable works of art. Their culture seems to be so much more advanced than ours, even though they have never felt Rhysol’s touch.“ Surprise was visible on his face. He found it hard to imagine that a culture could truly flourish without the presence of Ravok’s protector. „My family needed me here“, he explained curtly. A son of House Nitrozian could not simply wander around and do as he pleased. He had obligations. There were rules that had to be observed, and image was of course everything. „The University of Zeltiva is the best in the world“, he informed Auguste. „Even Ravok’s Institute of Higher Learning cannot compare to it. It is good that you are thinking about going there. One shouldn’t be content with the second best.“ Now he spoke with a hint of arrogance. He noticed the looks that the other people in the studio were giving them and returned those looks for a moment before he abruptly turned around and faced Auguste again. The man had mentioned commitments, but he didn’t look as if he belonged to any of the important families. Maybe he was a lost son that had suddenly decided to return to the place of his birth? No, that sounded to cliche. The Ravokian furrowed his brow. „What is it that you are doing in Ravok, if you don’t mind asking?“ he wanted to know and gestured for Auguste to follow him to the next painting. They had been staring at the painting of the beach that made him slightly melancholic for some reason long enough.

[Auguste]

"Without... Rhysol's touch?" Auguste found it just as difficult to believe. His face morphed into one similar to a surprised child, whose innocence had just been stripped away by a discovery that contradicted his own knowledge. He turned to Valerius and pursed his lips; he had initially believed that while Rhysol showered Ravok with his love, care, and protection, he also sprinkled a little bit of it on other cities -- apparently not. He must've been a busy god, a god with much to think about, to worry about, other than his own beloved city. He hadn't the time to reach out to the other holds. He ran a hand through his hair and smirked. "I'm intrigued, I'd like to go there and see it for myself, now," he murmured, as he turned his eyes to face the painting once more, "they sound rather interesting, the Ephyrians? I wonder what, or who, assists them in advancing." He found it hard to believe that any other god could be as effective as Rhysol, but perhaps these Ephyrians were very hard-working folks. The idea piqued the Ravokian's curiosity, and only made him more compelled to travel. But, he barely knew a thing about Ahnatep, except for the fact that it was populated by these so-called Ephyrians, who built magnificent houses, and lived among the sands and the seaside. It sounded beautiful. He glanced over to Valerius once more, as he mentioned his family. "That's... kind of you," he nodded, as he eyed his attire once more. Extravagant, remarkably so; he undoubtedly belonged to one of the distinguished families in Ravok, but which one? He felt that it would be improper to ask, and decided that it would be best if he were the one to tell him himself. He simply stood still as Valerius scanned the room, seemingly to return the glances of some of the other customers in the studio. "What is it that you are doing in Ravok, if you don’t mind me asking?" the young man said, as he moved towards the next painting, ushering Auguste to follow. He realized that he had yet to introduce himself to him, and perhaps if he did, he'd tell him his name as well. As they assumed positions in front of the next painting, Auguste wondered what would be the best thing to tell the man. He made a soft humming sound as he turned to view the canvas, preferring to delay his response for a moment to enjoy the art. It was incredibly surreal and otherworldly, a stark contrast from most of the paintings in the room. A reddish mass of dust particles seemed to swirl around into a colorful vortex. The black hole spewed out different shades of fuschia and violet lights that were peppered with gold and silver spots. The painting seemed to draw him in and devour him into a dizzying trance, one that he found difficult to shake. Was it an artwork based on magic, based on an unexplainable dream, or a whole other place? Whatever it was, it was most definitely something that the raven-haired man had never seen before. He licked his lips and gave up on trying to figure out the painting, it was probably just another abstract piece that only the painter and his closest friends could understand. "I'm here for my family, as well," he mumbled, as he turned to face the young man. He wasn't lying, no, but neither was he being direct. But, taking from what he had said a while ago, it didn't sound as straightforward either. "I suppose you could also say that they need me," he added, taking the time to eye the man's remarkably rich auburn hair. Beautiful, enviously beautiful. "They need me to take care of something." He bit away any mention of his plans to join the Ebonstryfe. If this man were to be trusted, he will be informed. But if not, it seemed fit that they were at this level of understanding. He seemed to be a decent, good man, however, and a friend was exactly what he needed. "I'm Auguste, by the way," the Ravokian smiled warmly, as he brought his hand out for a shake, "and you are?"

[Valerius Nitrozian]

„Rhysol is our protector“,/b] Valerius replied as he noticed Auguste’s questioning tone. He considered himself blessed that he was allowed to live in such a city, that Rhysol allowed him to exist. There was no other god as wonderful as him. Did this man really not know how much he had done for all of them? [b]„He is our father. He makes sure that the city is thriving. He keeps us warm in winter, and he keeps us safe from harm. Without him we would be nothing.“ „As would I“, he replied as Auguste said that he would like to visit the land of the Eypharians. „They are a fascinating people, but unfortunately I don’t know who or what assists them. I only know that they are not Rhysol’s people.“ A sigh escaped his lips as he said that. He wished that they would get to know Rhysol as well, but they would likely not appreciate it if he travelled to Ahnatep and started spreading his god’s word. He glanced at the painting once more, and then he pulled his gaze away. As they moved to the next painting, Valerius frowned. It didn’t make any sense to him. He had never really understood abstract art nor liked it. „What do you think it is?“ he asked Auguste. „Something magical?“ „Take care of something?“ He arched an eyebrow as he heard the man’s reply. He had answered his question without really giving him any kind of useful information. „I see …“ he replied. „And what do they need you to take care of?“ His smile was not as warm as Auguste’s, but he shook his hand and introduced himself, despite the fact that the man had not given him his full name. „I’m pleased to meet you, Auguste. I’m Valerius, Valerius Nitrozian“.

[Verilian]

. . Thread Award . . Auguste Thread Grade Pending Greetings! This is just a notification that for one reason or another your portion of the thread cannot be graded. I have sent you PMs detailing why the thread can't be awarded. Once you respond to these PMs and correct whatever I have asked you to do, the thread will be graded. Thankyou, ~V Valerius Nitrozian +1 Observation +1 Socialization Lores: Appreciating Art because it is Expected, High Society Manners, You Question My Logic? : Not much I could award here, but if you feel I missed something, feel free to PM me. Notes: Good job, guys, and keep writing! Notice As per the request of the Founders, threads cannot be graded unless your CS is up to date. This means you need to add threads to your thread list when you make new threads, keep your skills up to date, ledger, living expenses, ect. If you aren't up to date, you'll get a PM from me before i grade your thread. If you are up to date, disregard this notice.