[Closed]Street Performance 102[Colette]

[Guy Laliberte]

Day 16 of Fall of 510 AV

Guy walked briskly in his brown, wool cloak, his hands crossed on his chest, holding the coat closed. He might have looked odd to the passerby’s, a man walking in a cloak with no sleeves, but Guy rather enjoyed it. He had gotten it from a traveling cloth merchant, and had fallen in love the moment he saw it.

Approaching an intersection in the cobbled road, he smiled to himself under his mask and turned at a right angle, as if he were marching. More odd stares followed this action. None noticed, however, the quick glance he had made as he turned, looking back the way he had came. He felt he was being followed, and he was right. A young boy, perhaps seven or eight years old, was walking as nonchalantly as he possibly could, and the strain was evident. He tried so hard to make himself inconspicuous, yet for his efforts he was the most obvious thing in sight. Guy smiled to himself once more, and continued walking. The boy probably was trailing him, waiting for him to give a performance. Leaving the kid to his shadowing, he walked on.

Guy looked up at the ever-so-slightly weathered sign. The boy, noticing his pause, leaned against the wall, trying to whistle. Standing under the signpost, which read ‘Travelers Rowe’, Guy looked around, waiting for his pupil to appear.

[Colette Vicdor]

Since becoming involved with the performer, Colette counted herself fortunate. Thanks to that fellow, he's been able to make head-and-tail of Stormhold Castle, or at least the areas where he frequents, and she now has, if only for the moment, something that he can and will do with his uncertain skills. What he can do, after all, is all he is and all he has with her.

He left most of his belongings at his "residence" in Traveler's Rowe except for a filled waterskin that is always strapped to his large sash, even in his sleep (it's empty by then). Today's mission is simple, to locate and meet with someone; although it looks like he might be a little late. How long had the performer been waiting? Colette might've awakened a bit later than he intended, but he had left almost as soon as his eyes, which have developed bags, opened. The fact that he had only recently woken up when he walked out made him wonder if he was ready for the day....

When the familiar figure of the entertainer was in sight, Colette didn't care whether he was "ready" or not, but it was time to begin what might be a long day. Spying a suspicious-looking child near Guy had, if only for a moment, made Colette wonder if the kid's intention was to go pocket-fishing. That, of course, was unlikely, as he wasn't at home anymore.

...What?

Shaking his head to rid himself of that particular line of thinking, consequently thrashing his shoulder-length hair about, he approached the entertainer with his uniquely mid-high pitched and careless greeting as he gently runs a hand on his forehead to remove the hair that was obscuring his eyes.

"Yo~hhh, sirrah. I'm not too late, I hope?"

He probably was.

[Guy Laliberte]

Looking at Colette, Guy smiles to himself under his mask. He had, over the past couple of weeks, developed a sense of humor to rival his own. Well, not quite.

"Good afternoon, Colette. You are..." Guy looks up at the sun, which was almost directly overhead. "You are quite late. Kept me waiting for over a minute. Can you not do anything right?" He decided to take the high-and-mighty better-than-thou approach this morning. Guy had decided sometime along the summer that he would work on his characterization and voice acting.

"By the bye," He said, moving closer to Colette and almost whispering, "Have you noticed that I have a shadow?" He turns, pointing at the ground. "It's quite an exquisite shadow, if I may say so myself." Grinning widely under his mask, he continues, keeping his voice level. "And have you noticed my tail?" Turning completely around, he shows Colette a strap of cloth from his coat. "Now, in all seriousness, that boy there has been following me for quite some time, waiting for a performance. What shall we do about it?"

[Colette Vicdor]

"....Can you not do anything right?"

"Yeah, very funny," came his response, but nothing more as Guy stepped closer to him and confirmed the existence of his shadow and "tail." Colette caught on to the humor quickly; he was talking about the child he had spotted earlier. Not even Guy would fail to notice someone like that, he'd think. For an instant, a grin crossed Colette's face just after the words "in all seriousness" were spoken through that mask.

"What else can we do if not go about our business?" He whispered, answering in a manner typical of him. "But, I could do without feeling that stalker's stare burning a hole in our throats. It surely wouldn't hurt to humor the kid, either, I would think."

Colette doesn't see any point in entertaining the wishes of but one individual in a city full of them, but meetings of this sort, as he knew by now, can go in any direction, as long as one or the other spoke just the right words at just the right time.

[Guy Laliberte]

"Very good," said Guy, the perpetual smile of the mask still on his face. "So, let's scout for a good spot then, eh? I'm not performing for one child." Though Guy considered himself altruistic (and many people thought quite highly of him), he was still a businessman, and couldn't waste his time on a solo performance. Time, of course, is the only nonrenewable resource.

"Let's go then," He said rather loudly, attracting the attention of the boy. "Onwards, to new frontiers..." Old street corners, really, but what's the difference? Melodrama is the spice of life...

Guy walked away from Traveler's Row, making his way through the city/castle through the Bazaar, where he planned to have a show outside of. The marketplace tended to bring a large amount of pedestrian traffic - and therefore, customers - to his performances.

[Colette Vicdor]

"New?" He asked incredulously. "What's 'new' about anything in Syliras? A settlement remains a settlement."

Colette followed the entertainer to the marketplace, that busy-as-ever place he never frequents. He has few enough mizas as it is, if the worth of his currency is what he thinks it is (it isn't); why spend it on anything but the most essential? "Busying" himself with these thoughts certainly sped up the journey, though it was more like a stroll, to their destination.

Although by no means a market-savvy person, he thought that the advantages of providing a service in any place where there are lots of people is as bright as the morning sun. The only question left, hopefully, had already been exhaled from Colette by now.

"So what'll it be...?"

[Guy Laliberte]

Guy chose to ignore Colette's question, instead walking in silence through the streets.

"So what'll it be...?"

Guy was waiting for those fated words to be spoken from Colette's mouth. He grinned for the umpteenth time that day (His father had always said that grinning so much would give him wrinkles. He even grinned at that!), just pondering the trap that his younger companion had sprung.

"I believe today we shall try a little duet again. Your voice needs much work." Preparing for the protest that was sure to follow, he went on withouint taking a breath. "There'll be no weaseling your way out of this one. You are going to sing and you are going to sing well. Not to mention in front of a large crowd."

Looking around them, he could spot the boy whistling a couple of yards away, appearing to look around aimlessly, yet shooting glances at the masked figure who was Guy. He ignore the boy, instead taking in his surroundings. They were outside, and the sun was still high in the air, brightening the cobblestone streets and alleys with its rays. They were about nine yards from what seemed to be the entrance to the bazaar, ample distance so as not to disturb the shop owners (and knights) but also to be within walking distance to attract as many of the customers as possible to their show.

"This is a good location," He said, setting his bag down against a nearby wall, well in view and away from the general flow of people. "What have you? I believe you should pick todays song. The first song, anyway. Or make one up, that's always fun." Guy said, half-mumbling the last sentence, almost as if it were for himself. Subtle hints like this is what he used to push Colette on and help build his creativity. What good is a street performer with no imagination? "Yes, actually, that's a marvelous idea! Let's do a bit of improvisation. Go ahead, think of something while I ready the audience."

With that, he turned away from Colette and announced, throwing his voice through his mask, "Step right up, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, denizens of this fair and wonderful city of Syliras!" Guy threw his arms up and a single flower popped out of each sleeve, to be held in his hands. He handed them to a young woman, who smiled and blushed.

"Some of you know me already," He said, nodding to the familiar faces. "But for those of you who don't, you can call me Guy." He motions to Colette. "This is my new assistant, Colette, and he's been working for almost a season to help keep the people of this city happy." Stepping back from the crowd, he notices the boy near the front, an eager expression on his face.

"We have a wonderful show today, in my opinion, and would like to start you off with a song." Guy finishes his introduction, and becomes silent, waiting for Colette to begin.

[Colette Vicdor]

What is he up to...?

Colette could "feel" a smile form behind that mask; this was concerning, because it was likely that he was about to be roped into some other surprise performance. He was correct.

"You are going to sing and you are going to sing well. Not to mention in front of a large crowd."

Colette's mouth moved as if to express some vulgar curse, but no sound escaped him as his mind obviously started racing. Sing?! His specialty involved physical, not verbal, tricks, although he spent more time doing... what? Thankfully for him, the entertainer continued.

"What have you? I believe you should pick today's song. The first song, anyway. Or make one up, that's always fun."

At this point, he was doing everything he could not to slap the man, and his trembling right arm betrayed this, but-- throb.

Although it was brief, nausea overcame him and his head started to throb, but what came next was a godsend, for he remembered something about himself at that moment. "Alright, no problem," he muttered. He doubted the entertainer heard him, for at this point he was already readying his surprise audience.

".... .... .... We have a wonderful show today, in my opinion, and would like to start you off with a song." The entertainer, of course, kept quiet after this so that Colette could start everything off.

Even though the first time he uttered this to someone, it was definitely not to begin an entertaining act, but used as a conclusion to a violent one after a duo of fools tried to mug him in his hometown of who-knows-where. What does it matter, right now? As soon as Colette figures out what he was trying to do by coming to Syliras, and if the... price... that he probably paid was really worth it, he'll go over that mystery.

He began.

"Today you've unwittingly proved your generousity," he began.
"Even if you came near with no felicity," came a slower line.
"Few would wish to express," came a contrastingly energetic line.
"What you tried to take and what you received," he projected this line after replacing the word he once used, "me," with "us."
"But maybe, by thinking about it a while, you'll learn something."

Colette could've done that better - he surely did in his youth - but what right had he to criticize his own performance? Better to leave it to the people around him. He did doubt it was clap-worthy, but hopefully he didn't put off too many people with that. For Guy's sake, anyway.

OOC"Flashback pending production" is basically what that meant.

[Guy Laliberte]

Odd song. There was a significance there, a deepness to the words, as if spoken from memory and from experience, and not made up on the spot. Guy frowned, and a few people clapped, but most of them stayed silent, waiting for more. Hmm... Best I make this into a lighter tune. It's our job to entertain, not depress. He made a mental note to speak with Colette about this after the performance.

"And so, we ask of you this eve," He sang in his baritone voice, "to have some fun before you leave! To have some cheer this early fall, and heed our entertainer's call!" He was having some trouble lifting their spirits, but the crowd soon got into it.

"Never mind the singing, then," He, ironically, sang, "and never mind the chill. The sun will soon warm your bones, and there's still time to kill."

Taking out his trusty oranges , he begins to juggle. First two at a time, they travel in wide arcs, high above the crowd. Sneakingly slipping one from his sleeve, he adds a third orange to the arc, closing it in a bit. The fourth one was added soon after that, and Guy was reaching the edge of his competence. Should I add a fifth...? He stared at the crowd, all of them almost unconsciously leaning forward, waiting expectantly for his next move. His next move. It felt like forever and a day when he was slipping the fifth orange into the loop. The ones already in motion seemed to be flying through the air at the speed of light, the one making its way in as slow as molasses. Guy closed his eyes under the mask, concentrating on feeling the oranges through his palms, the air of their passing barely whispering through the mask’s eye holes.

He quickly opened his eyes again, though, because unwatched oranges tend to run away from home. Five oranges. The arc was much tighter now, reaching only a foot or two into the air.Guys’ hands were blurs of motion, and he felt himself starting to tire. Can’t keep this up forever, man. Tensing, he began to move his arms, guiding the oranges closer to his body.

Eventually, he lifted his head high, craning it to the sky, and let the oranges slip into a cleverly hidden pocket in his chest. All but one made it in, but through some miraculous feat of luck - or divine intervention - he managed to catch it before it splattered on the ground. This one he gave to the child who had been following them, who smiled and began to peel it on the spot. Oranges were hard to come by, though the cost was worth it to Guy - they brought smiles to people, whether being consumed or being juggled. Not to mention how much more it would cost to buy a set of juggling balls if he lost his.

He moved his bag closer to the crowd, allowing them to donate what they would. Whilst doing this, he nudged Colette, and whispered, "You're up."

[Colette Vicdor]

Memories of that sort are pretty likely to put a fairly negative impression on people, as Colette learned quickly. Although only a handful did clap, everyone else in the crowd either simply didn't like it or found the tone more depressing thanks to him. it looks like he brought the mood down, though Colette would be stupid not to have expected that.

He didn't.

Guy had to step in to keep the would-be entertainees from departing, fortunately - Colette wasn't so sure he would be up to the task at all. The fact that Colette even brought the mood to anywhere other than "that girly looking dude is a bad singer" was a wonder, since he was about as good as your average tavern patron, but when the ever-familiar oranges were unleashed, Colette dropped that train of thought and was ready for action. He began to wonder what his role was during the juggling performance, and was considering doing knee-switch maneuvers. Unfortunately, the entertainer was many things, but never predictable. Just how he likes it - as long as a crucial mistake isn't the only logical result.

Who'd have thought he'd spend his days doing... this? As soon as that sudden and random thought entered and faded, the entertainer's familiar juggling routine reached a close. He even gave a final orange, probably the subject of an error he made just now, to a child who, to Colette's disgust, began peeling the orange before he thought to consume it. Guy placed the "charity bag" close to the crowd, a clear indication that he was ready for them to present whatever generosity they had on this fine day. While that was all happening, the entertainer nudged him and simply said "You're up."

Colette was visibly concerned about those words. He must be missing something here. The entertainer isn't like that, right? He can't possibly, even after that, want him to...

He expressed the last part of that thought as quickly as he could.

"Sir Laliberte, that doesn't mean more singing, does it? I mean...."

Even using "Sir" to address him in a weak tone of voice would likely have betrayed that he has braced himself for what's likely to come next. Just because his voice may be better for singing than most (as far as he knew, which was almost nothing) doesn't mean he can. If he had to sing another song, this performance was over... at best.