Red today? Or perhaps blue? Oh, a lovely shade of violet might be nice as well, perhaps with frosted tips.
The morning found Hohoyoho reclining lazily in his chair, a finger entwined around a lock of jet black hair thoughtfully. It was naturally white as snow, but the Lalafellan Ringmaster had early on developed a love of dyes and flitting from style to style. Sometimes it was to fit a role or character, other times it was simply due to a whim that had struck him. He had even gone so far as to procure a Mammet that was designed solely to fulfill the role of his personal aethestician, lest he spend an untold more amount of gil and time travelling to and from the barber's chair. He kept the little automaton, whom he had named Seville, dressed almost as fabulously as himself.
Even now, the little Mammet waited patiently at his side, holding up an ornate box that held his other decision to make for the day. The other, lesser part of the genetic bargain was his Twelves-be-damned eyes - which were a pale gray, though they too changed color depending on the lighting. Green, blue, red, violet; no matter the color, they still suffered a horrible astigmatism that made the amusing world around him fade into an indistinct fog. His solution was an interesting, yet pricey one - thin lenses of ice crystal, shaped just so as to be set into his eyes and bring his stages and his audiences back into sharp focus. The fact that they could also come in a variety of colors was just another bonus.
Ah, but what eyes should I wear? If I go with the violet, perhaps a nice golden hue - I haven't worn those nearly enough, and it is quite the fetching combination on Jugs...
A knock at his door roused the ringleader-cum-pirate from his aesthetic musings. By the knock code, it was involving the latter half of his livelihood, which brought a slight upward tug to his lips. Another special performance, and so soon? This might be an interesting day indeed.
With a practiced hand, Hohoyoho took a pair of lenses from the proffered box and slipped them over his eyes. The heavy haze in his vision cleared as those dull blue eyes turned a brilliant silver. A bit of a snap decision, but silver always went so well with the darker dyes. Seville obediently snapped the gilded case shut once his master's choice had been made and tucked it away safely within his elegant doublet. Another wave of the hand sent the little Mammet to his little hidden cabinet within the Lalafell's desk to await his next calling.
A true performer never explains his tricks, after all...
"Enter."
The door creaked open, letting in the noise from outside. Even this early in the day, the Stage Left was bursting with life and action, for there were many preparations to be made before first showing. It certainly was enough of a din to make eavesdropping difficult, if one were to dare put an ear to the Captain's door, and the heavy make and exacting fit of it made such a prospect even more challenging. An added effect was that the room fell back into muted silence once that portal clicked shut again. At least, it would have been silent.
With an energetic hum and a bounding here and there, a female Lalafell done up in reds and blacks and bells and tresses approached the desk. With a jingle and a jangle, she leapt and somersaulted onto the desk, scattering papers to and fro with her one-footed landing. With a spin and a pose, she held out a hand to her employer, her painted face split wide in a smile. Harlili Harli was here.
"Allo, Boss," the still quite tribal Lalafell trilled in greeting. Teaching her proper Eorzean had been quite the task, though her skill and energy were quite worth the often odd accent she spoke in. "We goht us a bite, we does."
"Oh? Go on then, my Laughing Rina," Distractin' responded, sliding easily into his other role as a sword did into a well-oiled scabbard. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk and steepling his fingers. The mess of papers didn't bother him overly much - it was all there to look important and little more. Besides, he so loved a good entrance.
"Blokes wot say dere Flames, lookin' fer another show," Harli-now-Laffy explained, dramatically shifting into an over-exaggerated thinking pose. "Whispered 'n nudged all 'round, it wos."
"And nothing at the drop point?"
"Nae."
The wry grin on the Cap'n's face stretched into a Cheshire smile.
"Well well, I think I may know just who it is, then." The silver-eyed Lalafell settled back in his seat, resting his hands lightly on his stomach. He canted his head to one side before continuing. "The audience seeks an encore, and the Cap'n is nothing if not obliging."
Now it was Laffy's turn to smile; a wild, vicious and toothy smile.
"Wot we do, den?"
"Oblige them, of course!" Distractin' responded grandiosely, spreading his hands wide. "Whisper and nudge them in kind, and tell them to meet us at, oh, someplace nice at Candlekeep Quay for drinks, let's say. And let us see which members of the audience step up to the stage... and what sort of extras they bring."
"'n th' Rogers?"
Cap'n Distractin' folded his hands neatly behind his head.
"Tell them to prepare for a show."
The morning found Hohoyoho reclining lazily in his chair, a finger entwined around a lock of jet black hair thoughtfully. It was naturally white as snow, but the Lalafellan Ringmaster had early on developed a love of dyes and flitting from style to style. Sometimes it was to fit a role or character, other times it was simply due to a whim that had struck him. He had even gone so far as to procure a Mammet that was designed solely to fulfill the role of his personal aethestician, lest he spend an untold more amount of gil and time travelling to and from the barber's chair. He kept the little automaton, whom he had named Seville, dressed almost as fabulously as himself.
Even now, the little Mammet waited patiently at his side, holding up an ornate box that held his other decision to make for the day. The other, lesser part of the genetic bargain was his Twelves-be-damned eyes - which were a pale gray, though they too changed color depending on the lighting. Green, blue, red, violet; no matter the color, they still suffered a horrible astigmatism that made the amusing world around him fade into an indistinct fog. His solution was an interesting, yet pricey one - thin lenses of ice crystal, shaped just so as to be set into his eyes and bring his stages and his audiences back into sharp focus. The fact that they could also come in a variety of colors was just another bonus.
Ah, but what eyes should I wear? If I go with the violet, perhaps a nice golden hue - I haven't worn those nearly enough, and it is quite the fetching combination on Jugs...
A knock at his door roused the ringleader-cum-pirate from his aesthetic musings. By the knock code, it was involving the latter half of his livelihood, which brought a slight upward tug to his lips. Another special performance, and so soon? This might be an interesting day indeed.
With a practiced hand, Hohoyoho took a pair of lenses from the proffered box and slipped them over his eyes. The heavy haze in his vision cleared as those dull blue eyes turned a brilliant silver. A bit of a snap decision, but silver always went so well with the darker dyes. Seville obediently snapped the gilded case shut once his master's choice had been made and tucked it away safely within his elegant doublet. Another wave of the hand sent the little Mammet to his little hidden cabinet within the Lalafell's desk to await his next calling.
A true performer never explains his tricks, after all...
"Enter."
The door creaked open, letting in the noise from outside. Even this early in the day, the Stage Left was bursting with life and action, for there were many preparations to be made before first showing. It certainly was enough of a din to make eavesdropping difficult, if one were to dare put an ear to the Captain's door, and the heavy make and exacting fit of it made such a prospect even more challenging. An added effect was that the room fell back into muted silence once that portal clicked shut again. At least, it would have been silent.
With an energetic hum and a bounding here and there, a female Lalafell done up in reds and blacks and bells and tresses approached the desk. With a jingle and a jangle, she leapt and somersaulted onto the desk, scattering papers to and fro with her one-footed landing. With a spin and a pose, she held out a hand to her employer, her painted face split wide in a smile. Harlili Harli was here.
"Allo, Boss," the still quite tribal Lalafell trilled in greeting. Teaching her proper Eorzean had been quite the task, though her skill and energy were quite worth the often odd accent she spoke in. "We goht us a bite, we does."
"Oh? Go on then, my Laughing Rina," Distractin' responded, sliding easily into his other role as a sword did into a well-oiled scabbard. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk and steepling his fingers. The mess of papers didn't bother him overly much - it was all there to look important and little more. Besides, he so loved a good entrance.
"Blokes wot say dere Flames, lookin' fer another show," Harli-now-Laffy explained, dramatically shifting into an over-exaggerated thinking pose. "Whispered 'n nudged all 'round, it wos."
"And nothing at the drop point?"
"Nae."
The wry grin on the Cap'n's face stretched into a Cheshire smile.
"Well well, I think I may know just who it is, then." The silver-eyed Lalafell settled back in his seat, resting his hands lightly on his stomach. He canted his head to one side before continuing. "The audience seeks an encore, and the Cap'n is nothing if not obliging."
Now it was Laffy's turn to smile; a wild, vicious and toothy smile.
"Wot we do, den?"
"Oblige them, of course!" Distractin' responded grandiosely, spreading his hands wide. "Whisper and nudge them in kind, and tell them to meet us at, oh, someplace nice at Candlekeep Quay for drinks, let's say. And let us see which members of the audience step up to the stage... and what sort of extras they bring."
"'n th' Rogers?"
Cap'n Distractin' folded his hands neatly behind his head.
"Tell them to prepare for a show."
~