Four Weddings & A Funeral [Andrea & Lliae]

[Maddyn]

Water, a dim rocking of back and forwards against their bodies as they both lay there half submerged within warm hot spring water as the morning light of Telath woke the pair up. It was spring, but for all that it was still cold on the body with the waters warmth serving to at least cause some of that to abate somewhat. The pool they were in seemed to be in a luxurous Kemite styled garden with flowers surrounding the outside and even a pair of cherry blossoms managing to grow over the hot spring above them. It was the kind of scene that explained perfectly why Frigid River even existed as it did - a place for the Lylles to relax and enjoy themselves between their politicing.

Neither Lliae nor Andrea as they woke however could remember anything after hearing the two voices of a young boy and girl before the darkness had claimed them. But for all that, there was more candlemarks missing than really seemed possible - as if they'd both been awake for part of them and just couldn't remember just what'd taken place since.

It wasn't exactly like they were alone after all, lounging around the hot springs lay a half dozen Elvish and Human men of extremely pleasant build to look at and rather lacking in clothes. Not that they were alone though there either; a few Elvish women and Humans - and definetely a Dwarvish female were in the current rather lacking state of dress. Clothes it seemed had become optional when they'd entered this particular area of Frigid River and nobody really had bothered at all for the evening seeing as the hot springs kept the air warm enough around here. Each and every figure though was dozing away peacefully, more than a couple snuggled up against an apparent lover or two.

All about this, fine wines and empty glasses could be seen periodically upon the edge of the hot springs; a faint taste lingering in Andrea and Lliae's mouth.

But, for all the surroundings being a little unusal it pales in comparison to what Andrea and Lliae currently had to deal with. The pair of them were wearing straight jackets, pinned together whilst sitting down with a pair of belts about their waist and chest so that they really couldn't separate themselves until they'd undone the jackets. Both of them wore matching black tights and an undone doublet underneath with a red silk hankerchief within the little pocket folded appropriately. On both their left hands was a white glove with black buttons on the knuckled. If things didn't seem to be enough with that though, their hair was contained within a black skull cap - Lliae's hair a problem in itself for the length and so braided first. Each of them wore the white facepaint of a mime, a pair of black triangles for the eyes and a fake smile plastered on Lliae's face and a depressed expression painted onto Andrea's.

OOC:
Invite Only.

Cheers, Maddyn

[Lliae Llyhedras]

~Bloody Mimes!~

Lliae awoke gradually, and several things presented themselves for notice… first of all, she noticed that she was bound up in something tight, like a blanket, and besides that only her left hand seemed to be free… her dark, glistening eyes cracked open gradually, the Telera only gradually shaking off the sleepy feeling of a nap that hadn’t been premeditated.
The naked people didn’t bother her one bit… her drowsy eyes, still half-hooded by her velvety lilac-tinted lids, ran over the bathers with the critical expression of one who’d seen things far more surprising than this, but what shocked her back into full awareness was the fact that someone was sitting right next to her.
Lliae bolted up… tried to bolt up, because she found that being attached to someone who was bigger than you wasn’t exactly allowing for free movement, and was yanked back down by her own body, so that her black-stockinged legs kicked straight up and into the air for a moment.

‘Hurrk!’ she gasped, then took a few breaths to get the air back into her almost-flattened lungs, and turned a frown to the person next to her…
It was the man she’d seen in Pirvan’s house just before… just... he… it… who the Aeternia was this man?
‘What sort of Joker are you?’ she demanded, ‘and I do mean “Joker”. Do I look as utterly ridiculous as you do, and if so, who can I blame for it?’
The frown would have suited the expression under Lliae’s mime-face quite well, actually… despite the expression of almost terminal jollility painted over her fine features in garish white, black and red, the corners of her lips pulled further up into a curling “smile”, the real face underneath just looked plain terminal, like a thunderstorm getting ready to dump on the puny mortals below.
She lifted her left hand, glowered at the buttoned glove like it was personally offending her, and then fumbled at the strap that was chafing the underside of her breasts.

She smacked her lips thoughtfully, and then paused… wine? She’d been drinking wine? Well… if she’d gotten horrifically drunk (and she was thinking drunk beyond anything she’d ever been before, obviously) and had been put in a straightjacket with a man and strapped to him and… painted up as a Mime, and had… Lliae looked down… been dressed up like a popinjay or some Courtier’s little jester as a joke, that went a long way to explaining what had happened.
Her white-gloved thin fingers tried to get a grip on the buckles of the belts so she could breathe properly again and her breasts weren’t so very pinched, but Lliae wasn’t good with gloves.
‘Bloody Mimes!’ she grumbled, feeling in dire need of something lethally alcoholic to reduce the weirdness of her current situation.
Lliae had come up against Xet, Cyraxians and Necrotaurs and various evil Archmagi, but somehow… somehow they weren’t quite as horrible…

As being a Mime.

[Andrea Marsilia]

He’d been fit to burst into tears on seeing Cassidy regard him with nothing more than an upturned nose and her familiarly haughty expression…proof enough that he had been used on that darkening, that he had been nothing more than a space-filler, someone, that is to say, something with which the Thane of New Coldmoon could pass the time. She certainly hadn’t been haughty then, at least to his fogged memory. He remembered her pleading, near-weeping. Now, not even a greeting, not even a grin, not even a smile or a nod serale. Just that shocked expression, and then…nothing.

As if he never did exist. Eyes narrowed at that, and if he weren’t such a gentleman, that smacking on her behind would have been the least of her worries. He would have used a whip. And left welts all over the place. And branded her with burning metal as the criminal that she really was, indiscriminately breaking hearts, spreading the trade of loose morals, corrupting impressionable young men (and women?), being such a clear and present danger to organized society…and what the Jorel was he…chopped liver? He’d make that spoiled brat see reason, so much so that it would be falling down her face in sincerely penitent tears! I will live to see you scream in agonizing pain, Cassdea Al’lende…

He considered that, near-stomping out of the house in disgust, unwilling to have anything to do with that meretrix again, save wish a foul putrefying disease would strike her and her peerless parts, giving her the fate that she so richly deserved, what with perenially behaving like a quean in heat, and discarding her lovers without nary a thought, like so much used table napkins. The Tirisfalian had given himself freely, quite willingly in fact. He’d thought she’d done the same. Now that it seemed she didn’t even have the breeding, nor the common courtesy to much less greet him a happy brightening…oh, yes. He’d make her pay, and in his own good time.

And you could take that to the Imperial Bank.

Unfortunately, one blink later, he found himself in a very different bank than the one to which he was accustomed…or expected. And he couldn’t move. His hands were tied…and he was in a decidedly pleasant setting. For starters, he could see that most of those he viewed were neither lacking in aesthetics nor in personal modesty. Had he died and gone to Aetheria? Was this his reward for being yet another of Cassdea’s victims? Surely such a fate, being labeled as that, was purgatory enough, sufficient cause to go through any celestial annealing, unscathed.

That must have been some party. Had he drunkenly fallen asleep in the course of the celebrations? He could still taste some wine…and despite the physical hindrance, the sights and sounds of his extant location were certainly more than sufficient for his present wants and needs.

If only he could get out and take part in the fun. For the moment, he felt like he was being marinated. All he needed were the requisite spices.

He slowly, and painfully turned his stiff head…and saw that he was tied…to a clown, a horrendously-looking female one, herself grinning like some idiot. If Andrea didn’t know better, he would have called her the face-painted old pleasure-lady that she certainly was, what with permitting herself to ally…with his own worst enemy, may she rot in the deepest, foulest sewers of the Empire for all Aeternia.

“What the Jorel are you laughing at? You think this is a cheery predicament?”

Whose perverse fantasy is this?

[Maddyn]

It could've been worse though for the pair of Mimes as they sat there within the Hot Springs in a straight jacket. There was always something that could happen that as going to make life trouble, this both Lliae and Andrea were both aware of in their own way. Between Archmagi being just a touch overly interested in you through to just general politics in general... perhaps being found as a Mime in public was a good thing. Depending on who's perspective that was at least. Which really was Dallandra's own and her somewhat perturbing sense of humour.

The worst bit though, was that this wasn't in any way a fantasy for the pair but rather a reality. A few bodies stirred periodically within their alcohol and sex induced sleep, but there wasn't anyone there to disturb the couple as they Mimed 'Straight Jacked Mimes'. It wasn't the most difficult of tasks thankfully for the pair.

At least, no one from the actual party itself was there awake... but then there was a pair of young women walking up with naught but towels about their middles. Chatting away happily and without even a second thought to everyone there, Lliae and Andrea included as they discarded the towels and slipped underneath the warm water to lean against the edge and relax for a while. Both Human, the first was no more than about seventeen patterns really with shoulder length blonde hair, blue eyes and petite features that might've spoken of Elf blood in her family somewhere. The other was taller, if not a little bit bulkier in general but far from being in an unpleasant way to the eye with auburn hair and brown eyes. The blonde though, aesetically at least was the more attractive of the pair.

"Did you hear! They've got a new dancer at the Spear and Skull Amy and she's supposed to be fabulous from what Michael was saying...she even got all the words right in 'Gold for the Era!', and in Dwarvish too!" she exclaimed with a grin, not paying the slightest heed to Lliae and Andrea where they sat.
"Oh Diana... did you get her name, maybe she teaches? Certainly couldn't hurt to try... mind, Mother'd kill me if she found out." the darker haired girl mused, her voice changing slightly as if to mimic an adult. "And don't you be playing with those foreign outsiders Amy, they're naught but two bit whores and drunken sailors the lot of them!"

But then she giggled softly. "Did you see the Govenor's tunic there... what I want to know if if the story's true about it, I mean ewwwww!"

It was then that both Andrea and Lliae had to deal with part of the nights events where they'd certainly been concious but not within control of their own bodies. As if drifting througha dream and unable to affect circumstances at all, a stronger conciousness driving them towards each and every action no matter just how illogical, impractical or just plain idiotic it might've seen. But then, stranger things had happened to people while drunk of their own accord... getting a Mystic involved was just asking for trouble.

There wasn't a thing between Andrea, Lliae and the ground besides a thin wire that would've been used to floss between their teeth. Propped up in midair above two two story stone buildings in the very middle of Frigid River was the couple. There wasn't a hint of fear or self conciousness though as the pair of them performed cartwheels and general acrobatics that they'd likely never be able to accomplish when in full possession of their body. And they were amazing!

People below had gathered, mostly women and children admittedly given that a rather high percentage of men within Frigid River were currently enjoying the evening at the Spear and Skull... and decidedly becomming broke as they just felt the natural obligation to give the precious Elf a tip for her entertaining of the night. Cheers rose from below, clapping after each and every feet as they moved with a cat-like grace that anyone could've been proud of.

The exact why they were up there wasn't exactly obvious, but what was important was the shower of gold and silver crowns that were being tossed into a travelling trunk underneath them. there was an understanding from both Lliae and Andrea that they needed a certain amount or something absolutely dreadful was going to happen to them.

But, it was a blessing of sorts that neither of them were wearing their mimes outfit just yet. Instead Andrea and Lliae were both garbed within a Fool's Motley of purple and green checks; their faces painted dead white this time within the Mime Paint still but there was a few minor differences. Both of them now wore a tiny crystaline ruby love heart on their cheek... and against all reason, the pair of them were having to deal with some extreme discomfort below the belt. Around their ankles and wrists were manacles but without any chains connecting them; and both of them somehow had been forced into a chastity belt that rode up from behind like certain types of underwear... Andrea had it worse though, his seemed to be designed for a woman.

The facepainting though had a reason, it stopped them both from revealing a wince of pain whenever they performed certain acrobatics...

[Lliae Llyhedras]

‘Huh… I guess I do then. I’m Lliae by the way… whoever you are, we need to get up and get moving, unless you want to spend the rest of the day like this, that is? Find a knife and cut ourselves loose, perhaps? Or you can try the other buckle at least.’
Lliae wasn’t quite silly enough to mistake the Human’s makeup for an actual facial expression though… though her face went blank at… the memories of the night before?
Being of such a professional turn of mind as she was, she actually admired just how well she’d performed… agile, quick and slim in her clown’s outfit… yes, she’d been a clown… with a little heart cut out of a ruby stuck upon her pale cheek, doing things that Lliae, quick and nimble as she was as a Telera, certainly wasn’t capable of. Well, so she’d have thought, anyway.
The two girls entering didn’t draw so much as a glance out of place from the Telera, to whom casual nudity was an everyday occurrence in her birthplace, though (she thought sourly) she was sure that the man next to her was copping an eyeful and a half.

The thought of a chastity belt, whatever shape or design it might be in, didn’t bother her overmuch, oddly. She was quite obviously in a bit of a predicament, and was either being punished for transgressions, was someone’s slave… and some events from the previous night laid a certain credibility to that speculation… although she’d apparently lost a lot of her memory between Pirvan’s Manor and what was taking place now.
Had she been drugged? Not too likely… a Thëlyri would work through drugs automatically at such a rate that you’d have to keep on dosing the buggers with at least three times more than the average Human, and more often too.
It didn’t seem probable that she and this Kre’ahqueh man could have awoken at the same time, though Lliae was prepared to believe that anything could happen.
And what was this… a Dancer and… the Governor?

Lliae sat bolt upright again, though she wisely did it in such a way this time that Andrea was the one who was moved around, not her, tightening sleek muscles honed by fighting and a rough lifestyle.
What had happened to the others? the chilly thought slid into her brain like a blob of ice-cream would slide off a spoon, over your wrist and down your arm.
‘Come on!’ she nudged him in the rubs through the straightjacket, ‘let’s get going!’
She gave another tug at the buckle… did it loosen just a little bit, or was that her fancy? Lliae exhaled carefully so there wasn’t any pressure on it, calmed herself down, ordered her fingers to move slowly and carefully, and then tried to slide the strap out of the buckle, moving awkwardly with her hand through the white buttoned glove.
If only she had the agility in that hand that she’d had last night!

Lliae moving like a possessed thing… practically flying over the heads of the spectators, enjoying the gasps and the strangled cries when it looked like she was going to fall to her death, only to catch herself just in the nick of time, to garner gold and silver crowns in a glorious shower, laughing, laughing through the caked on make up…
There had been a thrill to it. A heady rush of adrenaline born of danger and of a cocksure attitude, of a wicked delight in dazzling the eyes of her audience and gripping their hearts with fear, without weapons or beauty, just acrobatic skill and a supple body.
And the threat of… something else, something that in comparison to the danger she had been throwing herself into was yet dangerous enough to get her up on those wires, something behind it all. Even more danger than the cobbles far beneath her, but it would be just as final, just as abrupt a fate as if she’d let go and plummeted, still laughing, to die on the streets below her.
Wow… it beat her everyday life hands-down.

Perhaps she was part of a travelling band of troubadours and freaks? At least it would explain the horrific costumes and the terrible taste in underwear.

[Andrea Marsilia]

While he was all trussed up in there like the brightening’s fresh catch of salmon, the former Trade Minister of Tirisfal could ascertain two important things.

The first was that it seemed he was missing out on quite a gathering.

The second was that the more attention he paid to the scene—much less its scantily–clad participants—the less he wished he was as bound as any arcanically disinclined person on the street…or, in his case, as bound as any plaything currently in the hands of the Gods.

[i]Damnation, what did I do to deserve…what did I do to deserve…”[/b]

A wince crossed his features as he felt the pain from all the constriction, and to try to ease it, he averted his gaze from the gossiping females, an exercise which was relatively difficult, considering his gender.

Oh.

He looked down to see…an odd contraption just where his legs joined his torso. Puzzlement caused his brow to frown, and he did just that.

What the feth is this?

He couldn’t make heads nor tails of the situation, and he couldn’t even move.

Ioannes, I want to move, I want to be free, I want to fly…

He should have been very aware to be careful for what he wished for, as the old folks tended to prattle…because at that very moment, he got what he wished for.

Jumping and twirling around like a man possessed—a highly likely probability considering his current situation—Andrea managed to perform things he wouldn’t himself, for the life of him, have imagined he could do…such as performing live for a bunch of his fellow citizens in the capital of Lauryl. Imagine the scandal! What would people think? On seeing their high officials doing all sorts of ridiculous feats such as this, they would all lose respect for the office…much less the man.

Unless he did it well, and perhaps, he could even redeem his pitiful self-esteem, or mayhaps, even boost it beyond all recognition.

It was difficult, admittedly, performing acrobatics with a constricting manner of clothing tied around his more sensitive parts, but he managed to do it, nevertheless, with many a wince and nary a voiced out shriek. It wouldn’t have been out of place, however. For all the entire assemblage knew, frowning was his natural state, what with that emotion painted obliquely on his face for all Telath to see.

When it was over, if it was over, Andrea would find himself panting, and quite heavily at that, for he was unused to such great physical exertion, save perhaps for the odd encounter with the sultry temptress from New Coldmoon. Exhausted, he would be, and rueing the brightening he ever thought to set foot in Frigid River. Surely, there was some odd magic at work here. He hated magic and arcana in all its forms…for truth be told, hadn’t he remained bound to this Telath, and rather happily, at that?

Ioannes, save me from this tribulation! I want to die…no, wait, I want to wake up and find myself home in bed.

[Callig an'Cianol]

Though Lliae struggled hard with the buckles of the straightjacket, the nasty truss was crafted so that the person bound inside, stayed inside. No amount of fumbling, wriggling or tugging on the shiney buckles had any affect whatsoever. At least they didn't tend to tighten. Then the bad news- something else did.

As they sat there, in the pleasantly heated and scented water of the Resort hot springs, both of them felt something akin to their drawers creeping upwards into places they shouldn't be creeping. Why would warm water shrink metal? There was still some time before the chastity belt began causing any serious worries for Andrea, but neither was the contraption comfortable for either person. Suddenly the metal ceased its minute shifting. A reprieve?

Around them, the Hot Springs began to slowly stir into life, as they did their best to escape. Not a strap budged, not a buckle moved. The introduction of the two young girls gossiping as they bathed began to rouse the rest of the people sleeping happily in assorted positions around and in the hot water. A man stretched and yawned, smacking his lips sleepily. He didn't look to be in the best of humours, as those paying the prices of the Morning After usually weren't. Two women curled up not that far from him moved, one concious and the other trying her best to remain asleep. It was impossible though, as her pillow began to move the sleepyhead nearly went beneath the steaming surface of the spring.

Not everyone was waking up in a bad mood. A few splishes alerted the paralyzed pair to someone's approach. Sitting down beside them, a lovely woman with long, wet brown hair and large brown eyes settled her unclothed self down against the side of the pool. "Good morning, Darlings. I trust the pair of you slept well?" She laughed to herself, as if only she was aware of a joke. "I do hope that you did, for today is going to be a long one for all of us. Let's see. Just how well did you do last eve?" She looked thoughtful, tallying some number up on her fingers.

"Six thousand, I believe Teryn said the count was. That leaves you with only four thousand more crowns to provide before you can be freed. I'm not sure if you've noticed or not yet, but the time you have to gather that four thousand up is limited." She kept grinning, obviously amused with this situation. "Have you any ideas on how you can perform this brightening, with the hopes of gathering that much cash?"

The moon had barely risen, sending off sparkles over the gently steaming pools of water that surrounded them. Darkness shaded the rest of the surroundings, but the silvery shine of water was definitely visible. It seemed to call out to both Lliae and Andrea, but neither of them were dressed for swimming. Both of them wore matching black tights and an undone doublet underneath with a red silk handkerchief within the little pocket folded appropriately. On their left hands was a white glove with black buttons on the knuckles. If things didn't seem to be enough with that though, their hair was contained within a black skull cap - Lliae's hair a problem in itself for the length and so braided first. Each of them wore the white facepaint of a mime, a pair of black triangles for the eyes and a fake smile plastered on Lliae's face and a depressed expression painted onto Andrea's. The paint was a bit fresher in the memory than it seemed the following brightening.

They were not alone. All around, other mimes, clowns and jesters were dressed in full regalia, ready for a darkening's party. Torches flickered into light, casting an orangish glow over everything. Laughter and words flowed, the various others performed brief tricks; almost as if warming up for a grand performance. Over to one side, one man stood noticably out from the crowd. He was the only one who looked ... normal. Though, only normal if one didn't notice how his golden eyes seemed to catch the firelight, and reflect it back. Golden curls dripped down his back, and his clothing was the finest outfit possibly owned in the entirety of Frigid River.

Between the hands of one of the Clowns, a large man, and the slender hands of the golden haired elf, a parchment exchanged hands. A voucher for crowns, but the amount was unknown. Smiling, the elf beamed jovially at everyone, saying some words to the group clustered around him, but not loud enough for Andrea and Lliae to make them out. Shortly thereafter the elf departed, and the party continued...

[Lliae Llyhedras]

Lliae wasn’t the type of personality to get overly annoyed by inhibiting underthings… she’d worn corsets before, which crushed the ribcage and tried to compact most of the major internal organs, and a little discomfort in her… her derriere wasn’t anything compared to being stabbed right in the pancreas, and then enduring the agony of healing over several months.
Anything was worth her family. Anything.
She kept on telling herself that, amidst the hazy red thoughts of painful revenge on this stupid, greedy woman in front of her who told her that she owed her money. Do it for Pirvan. Keep him safe. Keep him close. Your family always comes before you do, Lliae. Remember that, no matter how much your fist keeps on wanting to push this bitch’s nose right out through the back of her head.

It had been her creed for the past seventy Eras or so. She would not renege upon it now.

‘Four thousand?’ she heard her own voice say, in nervous, jovial tones, ‘I shall have in your coffers by the time you wish, don’t mistake me on that. I keep my word.’
Just the right amount of tremolo to convince her of her sincerity, and also the right amount of actual truthfulness. Lliae didn’t want a creditor on her tail, foaming at the mouth… usually their type had too many guards and muscle and troublesome buggers to kill off tagging along behind them.
Saying one thing, and promising another. Lliae was good at that. But in this case, she meant it. She wasn’t too sure how well she’d hurt someone tied to an inept, clumsy Human, but sadly she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to fight too well unless she used Andrea as an actual blunt weapon to bludgeon people with by swinging him around violently into the hapless thugs intending violence on her person.

But her right hand was bunching up despite all of her efforts to the contrary, and so to stop herself from actually taking a swing at the smug woman in front of her, she tensed muscles formed through several eras’ worth of rambling on her own two feet through the countryside of the entire Empire, and used legs that a mountain climber would die to possess to lift them both to their feet, along with a cheery,
‘Well, let’s be going then!’ to hopefully give him the right idea of moving.
Gods, what a dead weight the man was.
Lliae couldn’t say that Andrea was changing any of her long-held views that most men were generally lazy and boorish and would only actually get moving if their actual pants were actually set on fire… her opinions were probably entirely unjustified, but the majority of bad experiences tended to stick in the mind more than the minority of good ones.

She wasn’t entirely sure of what to do next, but when an option of doing something other than being weighed down by a male, or sitting by a pool and looking at naked women.
A door would be ideal, and then the nearest piece of cutlery or the nearest thing with a sharp edge that wasn’t in the scabbard of a burly guard would then be used to slice herself free.
Maybe she was naked under this stupid costume apart from the metal chastity belt, but Lliae had never let nakedness stop her yet.
Quite the contrary, in fact. It was probably her only distinguishing feature apart from being a small odd green, blue and lilac elvish woman.

[Andrea Marsilia]

Escape was something that entered the former Trade Minister’s thoughts at this time, though, at first, it would have been of a manner that Pirvan’s aunt would not have approved.

The thoughts in Andrea’s mind, see, were similar to the sinful thoughts that occurred to men should one Cass’dea Al’lende—damn her name for all the ages and ages—happen to come across some witless body masculine, and so in her be absolutely bewitched, betwixt.

Thankfully for the elven female, the object of this Tirisfalian’s affections did not include her latest (if the Al’lende’s word was to be taken as truth) best friend. Nay, it included him and those two almost-women he’d espied taking a dip earlier, while his mind marveled over multifarious possibilities and all sorts of twisted...proclivities. Damn him, of course…Damn men, as yet another daughter of Diana had uttered, not so long ago.

Being in bondage, of course, did not help the Tirisfalian’s cause any bit.

It that sense, then, any female in their right mind would have easily said that men had naught but a one-track mind. Useless, good-for-nothing individuals who were of little use to this telath except to harrumph with great pride about all their stupendous achievements accomplished in the name of mankind.

“Let’s be going?” He managed to ask quite puzzledly, a quizzical look and frown on his overly-confused face. “Where did you say we were going?” And what impeccable timing, just when she was about to…

Like the typical (fe)male, however, he just couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

“In case you didn’t notice, I happen to be tied to you, o Great Aunt.”

A smile, of course, just had to make itself shown. Yet another reason to slap the fellow silly.

[Maddyn]

Grinning slightly at Lliae and nodding her head, it was the kind of answer the woman anticipated given the other option wasn't all too pleasant at all. The risks for Andrea were perhaps a little more immediate though than Lliae's own, if only because of the inevitable result the chastity belts continual tightening would have on his own body. Given enough time, and he'd make an interesting soprano for any choir about the Empire if given an opportunity. "Impressive, I wasn't aware that mimes spoke... well, it's on your own heads... well... not really but you understand I'm sure. Four thousand by midday or that'll be that and well... I'm sure we can send someone around with a crowbar and the keys to get them off."

"Well enjoy yourself until then, it's not like you'll be exactly able to run far with those on until Teryn's been paid off dears. Oh you can try, but I'm sure you won't like the consequences of said actions." but this gave the woman a thoughtful pause as she bit down on her lip thoughtfully and glanced over her shoulder at one of the sleeping figures on the water. A largish man that probably had a giant somewhere in his ancestry, and probably a couple Orcs to mix things up a little. "At least, I don't think you'll like it... there's always some who seem to just have to be machoists, you know how it is...a little cut here, a two by four hitting oneself there and then there's the spikes and leather. Really is a little sad when you get down to it..."

A little more than sad Robin knew, but that didn't bother her either. The Fellowship of a sort, her fellow companions who made their public living through entertainment. And their private living through more sordid affairs and criminal activity. What did matter was, they'd found both a means to not have to kill people and draw unwanted attention from the City Militia before it'd been wiped out by the Esh'lahier... and they'd found away to get people's attention and hurry them towards paying up quickly. Grab someone by the... ahem... and their hearts and mind soon follow.

"Well, we'll all be here or at the Manor when you've got the crowns... and do be on time, you wouldn't believe how difficult it is prying those things off after a certain amount of candlemarks. Crowbars'll only be the half of it."

OOC:
Discontinuing the visions/rememberances though feel free to describe them yourselves of entertaining in the streets and working towards earning that aforementioned 6,000

Cheers, Maddyn

[Lliae Llyhedras]

‘Aunt?’ said Lliae in an altogether too-loud voice, then remembered herself and hurriedly lowered her tone to something more subtle, below window-pane-rattling level.
‘I’m your… you’re one of my nieces and nephews?’ she asked, then quickly said, ‘No, there’s no need to answer that. I know I’ve been out of the loop lately...’
About a decade, not counting the two Eras she’d spent asleep in a tower, actually.
‘And we’re going to earn some money. You heard the woman… and while I personally can withstand a certain amount of pain, I don’t want to have to. Besides… unlike you, my reproductives are internal, not external. I’m sure I don’t want to have to paint you a picture, because it’d involve a lot of red and purple paint to colour it properly. Just look amusing, I think I’ve got a bit of an idea as to what sort of routine we can do.’

As they made their way outside, Lliae gave up on getting separated from Andrea, and after a few false starts where they nearly crashed into various walls and people, soon got a three-legged-race step going that allowed them to move fairly well.
Thankfully Lliae’s background in K’tesh and her natural nimble speed would help here and after a minute or so of deep thought, she recognised that Andrea’s attributes… of being a strong, young human man… would help make up for what she simply could not do.
‘Have you ever lifted someone about my weight off the ground for extended periods of time? And do you think you could balance on one leg and do it?’ she asked, a slight frown making a thin crease between her painted brows.
When they got outside, Lliae carefully laid down one of the handkerchiefs and, judging the moment to be right, threw back her head and howled like she’d just suffered a sudden attack of insanity.

Having patronised a few plays and watched with attentive keenness the antics of street performers the Empire over, Lliae had a pretty good idea as to what she should do to get some attention, and gradually modulated the howl into coherent, though very loud, words.
‘It is with great pleasure!’ she bellowed, ‘that we present to you today, the amazing, the entertaining, the thrilling and astounding Farce of Mishaps!’
She panted for breath for a moment after that, and then grinned as she saw a crowd gather around the crazy woman.
‘Well, that worked,’ she murmured, ‘but we’ll need to keep them interested…’
Struck by sudden inspiration, Lliae lifted her legs up, dropping all of her weight onto Andrea’s side suddenly, heaving herself down so that he fell.

And then, tumbling him into a long roll, using her sense of balance to gain her feet after going head over heels and back up the right way, pushing them up and hoping that he was quick and agile enough to stand up, while Lliae winked at the crowd with one painted eye and grinned appealingly.
A few chuckles met her efforts… but they needed more than that to get money off them.
With a slight groan, Lliae hoped that her body wasn’t too stiff from whatever had happened last night, and with a bit of a light stretch, she bent forward as far as she could in the costume, and… put her foot flat on Andrea’s head.
All of the work she’d spent on training her body to be supple and flexible for her K’tesh had paid off, thankfully, and it was only a little bit of a strain, which made her wonder… until she remembered what she’d apparently been doing last night, and snorted at herself for feeling a strain where there couldn’t possibly be one.

How good her mind was at convincing her of her physical weakness!

With that, she gripped the hem of their costume with her free hand, and put her other foot up on the human’s head, trusting in him to be able to bear her weight without buckling at the knees, although if he fell down then all the better, for they were a comedy act, quite clearly.
A laugh or two, a clap and the tinkle of a few gold crowns, and, encouraged, the little Telera put one foot either side of Andrea’s head… by now having bent herself over so that her calves rested with warm pressure on his shoulder blades… and waggled both of her slipper-shod feet comically at the crowd, which got a bit more money.
After that, she stuck one hand between the human’s legs from behind also and waved, hoping the costume would take all of her weight, and then with a spring of taut muscle, she pulled herself back into her normal position.

The smoothness of the move got a bit of applause for them, but by that time Lliae was miming every single thing that Andrea did in the most comical way possible, as a small sibling would to their older brother, or even a roguish corporal to a blustering sergeant, making herself as odd and monkey like as she could.
The good thing was that she could mime running or even swimming by lifting her feet off the ground, and making ridiculous pedalling or paddling motions, her black eyes wide and full of cheeky innocence.
‘If someone’s purse is unguarded, such as a fat merchant, then don’t be ashamed to lift it for the cause. Especially if he tries to pat my bottom every now and then,’ the Telera breathed softly as she exerted herself, sweating a little bit underneath the hot costume.
Being tied to a very warm human while pushing her physical limits after having sweated in a Sauna, and having no cool water to drink immediately was a dangerous combination of events in a Thëlyri.

[Andrea Marsilia]

This was taking a most unusual turn towards the absurd.

“Only six thousand crowns?” Andrea managed to say with barely little exasperated excitement. “Damnation, why didn’t they say so?” Crinkling his forehead with a frown, he did his best to stretch and so reach his pockets.

No go.

“Bleeding proclivities,” he managed to curse quite bitterly with clenched teeth. “Try and reach for my back pocket, why don’t you,” he said-cursed with little reservation. “Look for a slip of paper, some stationery. I can easily write them a draft on my bank in Medonia. Only six thousand crowns? I’ve got better things to do than stay all brightening tied up next to you, oh, Great Aunt,” he said once more, his peeved tone sufficient to cut through the sarcasm.

Whether he heard her or she him or not was soon found irrelevant, if not entirely immaterial. He’d barely had time to catch his breath when she came and did open her mouth to pester him yet again.

“Of course I haven’t lifted someone your weight for an extended period of time. What do you take me for, a day laborer? I’m a career bureaucra…a loyal servant of Her Imperial Majesty’s Government,” he corrected unnecessarily. Not that any of his protestations would relate to the contrary, as Lliae went about her business, Andrea, the literal, typical, parasite, tugging along like some enormous blister on a ravishingly beautiful female’s face…which Lliae was, despite her many travails of late, one by the name of Andrea Marsilia, included.

He was about to do the typically female role and grumble yet once more, but before he could do so, she let out a scream that was more a screech, and before he could even react, she was up, off, and running, doing what it was that she thought was entertaining.

“Look amusing, in-deed…” he muttered yet again, but before he could even complete that statement, he was—had fallen on his bottom, if not his side, and not in an entirely pleasing way. He grimaced, and badly at that, but before his brain could even process what was happening next, he blacked out.

At least, he thought he blacked out.

Something seized him. Whether it was the Imp of Mischief or some other Deity born of the foulest bloodlines of Jorel he, Andrea, did not, could not, know, for later on, in the telling, all he could consciously remember was sitting oddly on his side.

He could remember laughing, though whether in fright or madness he could not tell, and at one time, thought he bit Lliae in the neck, but wasn’t quite sure. He could remember and did have inklings of kissing her once or twice, though perhaps it was in error, for was he smacked twice or thrice on the cheeks?

He could remember guffawing loudly as well, laughing not at his desperate straits, with his mirth, instead, directed upon the hapless audience, who—he thought—were as astonished by their antics than he was by their astonishment. Laugh, fools! Rejoice at your misery. Throw us a crown for our patience, and relieve yourself of that which you do not need to live your paltry lives

Finally, in the course of sticking his tongue most amusedly at his distant relative, he thought he was able to grab something, surrepititiously, as it was, or was not. He wasn’t quite sure. All the sweating he and Lliae were doing, not to mention the effort they’d mutually expended, tended to cloud the mind.

And all that tumbling tended to confuse the inner ear, too.
There