• Closed • Art is a Matter of Taste

[Tristan Venora]

Vhalar 40, Arc 717

Tristan had returned to Andaris. He had not returned because he had given up on Oakleigh, but because there was an art exhibition taking place in the capital, and they had agreed to display some of his creations. His absolute masterpiece, the nude sculpture he had made of Peake Andaris, was unfortunately still missing and would likely never be found again, but he had taken the second best sculpture he had ever made with him. He had also decided to make a new sculpture just for the exhibition to show off a new technique he had learned. He was really curious about what people would say!

He arrived early, several breaks before the actual opening of the exhibition, because he still needed to put the finishing touches on his newest work of art. Ayla, his little daughter, had not come with him, but was at home, in his old house, and being taken care of by a babysitter. One of his bodyguards, Lianne, a very pretty redhead, had accompanied him though. People were incredibly worried about his safety since he had become a duke, besides Lianne was actually great company. She had a great sense of humor and drank nearly as much as him. She had also, occasionally, shared his bed in the past.

A helper that he had hired just for the occasion helped him carry the large chests with the sculptures inside. The first sculpture they unpacked and placed on a pedestal, his second best creation ever, was of the two headed hound that had terrorized Rynmere a few seasons before. It had a nice saddle and reins with golden tassels on, and a half naked man and women were sitting on its back. A small sign on the pedestal said that the sculpture was called “Triumph over the Beast” and had been made by Duke Tristan Venora.

The second sculpture was of an incredibly ugly woman with a face full of warts that was wearing a black, hooded cloak and had a raven on her shoulder and a scythe in her hand. This sculpture didn’t have a name. It was Tristan’s interpretation of Krome, the patron saint of death, but he knew better than to tell people that as they could be very touchy where religion was concerned, and he didn’t want to spend the rest of his trials in prison.

The third sculpture was a truly monstrous head made of soapstone. It was so scary looking that Mistral, his cat, had run away when he had first seen it. It was Tristan’s interpretation of Aelig, the Immortal of Illusions, who had tried to ruin his life. Aelig didn’t really have a face, but since you couldn’t make a faceless face, Tristan had made a monster face because that was what Aelig ultimately was – a terrible, overpowered monster.

Unfortunately the sculpture didn’t work as intended yet, and it was also terribly cross-eyed, which was why Tristan quickly opened his pack, removed a chisel and started hammering away. After a few bits he placed it on its pedestal, watched, made a face and hammered some more. Finally he was content, wiped the dust and the bits of stone off his fine black and blue suit and sat down on a nearby chair while he waited for the first of current and future fans to arrive. He loved having fans!

The people that approached Tristan’s section of the art exhibition would be treated to a truly terrible experience. Upon stepping in front of the Aelig sculpture, said sculpture would turn around, seem to look directly at them and let out a loud scream!

[Caius Gawyne]

By Faldrun’s fiery balls, she’d begged him incessantly for trials until he finally gave in, until he caved and agreed to go to some sarding social event because he was nobility, because he could get her in with his name alone. The diminutive gossip columnist would nightly lean on his worktable with the coyest of needy expressions, Fern admittedly far from inexperienced in the print room of the Rynmere Gazette having started her career where Caius now willingly worked the breaks of his night away. Only she had the gift of gab and social abilities the northern noble had never been arsed to perfect and as the blonde fluttered her eyelashes and promised him a good time if he would just please take her with him to a Venora’s art show—please—he finally acquiesced.

As a student of the Arts himself, he was somewhat obligated not only by station as nobility in Andaris but also by at least one of his professors. While he’d never taken a sculpture class, he’d heard a variety of opinions on Tristan Venora’s work, none of which he’d been able to quite verify with his own. So, if nothing else, it was about time he saw what all the talk was about, especially considering it wasn’t just another game of smearing the Venora name in the mud.

Fern Llewellyn knew how to dress the part, her expensive and achingly complimentary dress clearly a splurge from her salary just so she could rub shoulders with high society. The young Gawyne couldn’t complain—it wasn’t as if he hadn’t flirted with the gossip columnist over metal type with ink smudged on his sarding stupid face before. She’d put up with it, but his work kept his nights and his studies kept his days. Most of that was on purpose, perhaps, for Caius wasn’t a socialite. This was a rare outing and when the young writer slipped her arm in his with a chuckle, he felt an uncanny rush of bravado that compelled him to make the effort, even if it meant enduring the presence of his own kind, of noble kind.

Bogs, it was exhausting, too, and while they weren’t at all early by any means, the young Gawyne looked forward to a few drinks while the pair wandered the art exhibits—some new and some old—with Fern asking questions of her tall, familiar escort. She asked about types of paint and styles, she asked about his interpretations, and she wondered things out loud with him as only a gossip columnist could do, quizzing him on the faces he saw, their Houses, their habits, their scandals. Caius kept up as best he could, feeding her curiosities while he pretended to enjoy himself, Fern more than happy to keep her hands on him in a way that would have otherwise been inappropriate in the Gazette.

By the time they made their way toward the main exhibit, he’d found himself to the end of just enough alcohol to feel witty and loose, his normal sarcasm softening at the edges into the kind of conversation that made his coworker giggle and roll her eyes instead of blink at him blankly. The works of Tristan were large, larger than Caius had expected, and while Fern was careful not to name names, she was clearly glancing around the room to see who’d come out to support the young Venoran Duke of Oakleigh.

Contemporaries, it was the northern Lord who sought the Duke out by his face, offering a smile before Fern curled fingers into the deep violet velvet of his dress jacket,

"Look at that, printer’s diri." She teased him with Basilius’ term of printmaking endearment, and in her dress, she could call him whatever the Fates she wanted. The gossip columnist pointed toward the large head that dominated the room, momentarily ignoring all of the other interesting things that caught the mixed blood’s gaze, "Come on, I’ve got to see the face—"

Sard it all.

Fern dragged the taller Gawyne around in time with another handful of visitors, and as they approached, the whole sculpture moved! Not only did the soapstone head slowly roll toward them, but it’s eyes seemed to wash over them with hideously cruel judgement and it screamed! Everyone made noises of horror and surprise, and even Caius couldn’t help himself, the whole experience way more than he’d been expecting. His coworker practically crawled into his jacket—again, not a bad thing in his warmly buzzed mind—before she began to laugh.

It was, unfortunately, the kind of laugh that broke all illusions of attractiveness.

She was pretty, she bordered on the perfect with her use of print terms and her wit, but then, honestly, her laugh was horrible. The printmaker’s apprentice swallowed a frown and laughed with her as if to make to hide it in embarrassment from the small crowd, the others with them clapping and audibly admiring the terrifying experience.

"Alright, let’s introduce me. I have to ask about that thing." Fern giggled, her hands all over him in a way that somewhat assuaged the horror of the sculpture and her laugh, dragging him toward Tristan once the Venora appeared to break away from another admirer.

Caius inhaled sharply, exhaling his awkwardness, and offered the Duke another broader, more genuine smile and a respectful bob of his body, "Well met, Duke of Oakleigh. I don’t recall if we’ve actually been formally introduced," Maybe arcs ago, but certainly not as adults, not since the second born had been away from Fort Gawyne as a student, as a refugee from noble expectations. He clearly didn’t enjoy introducing himself as Lord, but that’s what he was, "I’m Lord Caius Gawyne, second son of Baron Frederick Gawyne and fellow student of creative pursuits. This is Fern—"

The gossip columnist grinned and curtseyed, far from shy, "Fern Llewellyn, columnist with the Rynmere Gazette. It’s my pleasure, Duke. Would you do us the honor of a guided tour through your work?"

Caius’ smile faltered a little and while he wanted to apologize for his date’s forwardness and her unveiled motive, he couldn’t. She’d promised to make the evening worth his trouble.

❦

Ledger placeholder for jacket

House Colors (Violet) Velvet Jacket
3 gn x .25 (size) x 8 (velvet) x 4 (purple) = 120gn

[Tristan Venora]

Tristan stood there, grinned, shook hands, drank wine and shook more hands and really enjoyed all the attention. He wasn’t particularly worried about the political implications of a duke making monster sculptures that moved – on the contrary, he enjoyed all the gossip and the whispers. If somebody disapproved of his creations, he wasn’t offended either. In fact he enjoyed arguing with his critics – unless they were called Padraig, but he didn’t want to think about the man who was going to marry Faith at the moment. This was his big moment, and he wanted to enjoy it as much as possible!

Soon art galleries and museums all over Idalos would display his creations. In fact a museum in Etzos had already requested one of his sculptures a couple of seasons before. That was, as far as Tristan was concerned, going to become a regular occurrence from now on!

He wasn’t sure what exactly a printer’s diri was (some sort of evil spirit that lived in the office of the Gazette?), but he quite enjoyed the noises of horror and surprise that the people that watched his Aelig sculpture made. He loved scaring people. Maybe he would make a sculpture that didn’t just roll around, but actually walked next, but for now he moved to greet his two newest admirers. He had to admit that the woman on the blonde man’s arm was pretty, although he usually preferred redheads. He had the feeling that they knew him, but he didn’t know them – which wasn’t much of a problem since people seemed to be very eager to tell him their names since he had become a duke.

Caius was a Gawyne? Tristan looked a bit flabbergasted as the man introduced himself. He hadn’t had a lot of contact with that particular noble family so far, and didn’t know what they were like. He knew that Kromes were (for the most part) ugly, Andaris’ were perverts, Endors weird and Venoras pretty weird perverts, but what were Gawynes? He pondered that question for a few moments, but then realized that Caius probably expected him to say something, so he provided him with a pretty generic, but polite, “Good trial, Lord Gawyne!” before he smiled at him because Caius might become another fan and because he had mentioned creative pursuits. He always welcomed an opportunity to talk to a fellow artist!

He was just about to ask Caius whether he was a painter, a sculptor or maybe a writer when Fern interrupted them. He looked at her abruptly, wondering if he should point out to her that her behavior had been kind of rude, but then again she wanted to know about his art, and he loved to talk about his art. He thus decided to forgive her. “The pleasure is mine, Miss Llewellyn”, he replied. “Only a small sample of my works is being exhibited here, but I consider these sculptures to be my best. This here …” he said and pointed at the two headed hound. “… is the monster that terrorized Rynmere a couple of seasons ago. I talked to a man who stood face to face with it and lived to tell the tale. His name is Aeon, and he lost an eye and a hand to the monster. I later found out that it is called a Sessfiend and actually a person that was cursed by Syroa, the Immortal of Transformation and Fury.”

He shuddered briefly as he said that. Syroa had also tried to ruin his life. She had also slept with him while she had been disguised as Faith and given birth to Ayla. His daughter was the only good thing to come out of it. “I made this sculpture to show people that even such powerful monsters can be defeated. Don’t ask me why it has a saddle with golden tassels though – because I don’t know. I sometimes do things just because the mood strikes me.” He shrugged his shoulders and grinned at her before he turned to the next sculpture – the rolling head. “I made this sculpture here more or less to show off a new technique I invented”, he lied because he didn’t think that telling a woman that worked for the newspaper that he had an Immortal enemy was a good idea. “I found out how to make sculptures that move and produce sound!” He looked at Caius and her, expecting them to be appropriately in awe. “The last sculpture is just an ugly witch. It’s one of my earliest works, but I still like it.”

He paused for a moment and then asked, “So what do you two think of my work?” He also wondered if Caius and Fern were together. Most nobles would have disapproved of a noble dating a commoner, but he had no problem with it. He had slept with his slave and would have married her as well if she hadn’t fallen in love with somebody else!

[Caius Gawyne]

Fern had two goals, actually, but she was willing to pretend at one thing in order to achieve the other. It was, perhaps, somewhat easy to play flirtatiously with Caius because he played along so well, because even the blonde gossip columnist could admit that the young noble was kind of handsome, had handsome been her particular preference. But, as she interrupted him introducing them both to the Duke of Oakleigh, even then, her gaze fell briefly on Lianne, the sculptor's escort. Her smile was for the red-head, and not for either of the men. Not one sarding bit.

However, her attention was genuine, soaking up every word as Tristan led them through his work and spoke on each piece. She wrote things down, hanging off of Caius' arm in a natural, comfortable sort of way that would have implied to any casual observer that they were, indeed, totally together. Her talents were more than just in words.

The young Gawyne listened, too, quite interested in hearing the other man's explanation of things as if to carefully weigh them against his own interpretations, to consider whether or not Tristan was successful in creating the reactions he wanted from his work with someone like himself. His best work, Caius heard, and as they paused in front of the two headed dog, the Duke spoke of Syroa, and he knew the Immortal from his studies. Sessfiend, however, wasn't quite as familiar. He tucked that away for later.

Caius noted the brief shift in Tristan's demeanor as he described this piece of work and perhaps the subject matter that inspired it, Fern too busy writing notes, and he couldn't help but laugh at the Duke's comment on the tassels, "I've got a feeling most people get really hung up on those sarding tassels, too, instead of noticing the rest." The northern noble understood that far too often, people failed to see the point of something simply because they allowed themselves to become distracted by the most useless of details.

The rolling head sculpture was quite impressive, and the young Gawyne asked the obvious question before his gossip columnist of a date could even open her mouth, "How is this even possible, Tristan? Or is that a secret?" Caius' need to know may as well have been genetic, his House known for their meticulous studies and hoarding of wisdom. His tone was, indeed, enthusiastic, though it was clear his curiosity was also surprisingly academic in nature—wanting to know how the sculpture worked and what made things happen. He'd been studying the arts for almost two arcs now in the more vigorous academic settings of both Viden Academy and Rynmere University, in addition to all the time he'd spent at home under tutelage, much to his father's chagrin.

Fern nodded of course, momentarily distracted by someone she seemed to know across the room, smirking at them with her quill in her hand, "Yes!" Her attention snapped back to the Duke, quite excited, "This new technique seems rather magical, wouldn't you say?" As a gossip columnist, she was always looking for a bit of scandal after all. Of course, whether Tristan answered or not wasn't up to them, but Fern was determined to get some kind of story out of his strange, extraordinary creations.

At the Duke's questioning of their opinions, the gossip columnist paused. Caius, however, was more than happy to answer with an uncharacteristic eloquence, an obvious intellectual enjoyment in his tone. He'd chosen to study the arts for a reason, after all.

"Your sculptural vision is quite unique." The young Gawyne answered first again as if this time he was determined to make sure he got his words in ahead of his so-called date, smiling as he slipped from Fern's arm in his to reach for a new glass of wine while a server wandered past. He didn't return to her, choosing instead to give his full attention to the other man, somewhat casually aware that her pleasing hands on him came at the cost of sideways glances elsewhere. She wasn't going to be making his evening as worthwhile as she promised, but at least he could enjoy some Oakleigh wine and pretend,

"The style of the time tends towards realism as well as edification of those in power in order to instruct the people to keep them there, but you, despite your current position—or perhaps in spite of it—choose to create works that are about powerful things in order to encourage the people to overcome them. Empowerment, in times like these? It's refreshing, ser, honestly. Am I sarding crazy or is that where you're at?"

Fern was staring as if she had no idea anything other than curse words and sarcasm could ever come out of the northern noble's handsome mouth, "Uh. Yeah. Your sculpture is quite impressive, Duke of Oakleigh." The short, blonde woman paused for a moment, her own thoughts paling in comparison to the young Gawyne she'd begged to bring her here in the first place, "I've heard a rumor that even Etzos has requested some of your work. Care to comment on that?"

❦

[Tristan Venora]

“It’s not a secret at all!“ Tristan replied right away. He did look around to see if any of his competitors were nearby before he continued though, turning to Fern as he did so. “It’s not magic either. Magic’s illegal, so the king probably wouldn’t approve of my being a mage. Besides I don’t like what magic does to your body.” He lowered his voice and whispered to Caius and Fern, a shocked expression on his face, “I heard that mages mutate!”

Once he had thought differently about magic. He had been fascinated by it and seriously considered learning it despite the fact that most people disliked mages, but then he had found out about the mutations. He really liked his body, and he didn’t want it to change.

“The sculpture moving is just the result of using different materials as well as boring stuff such as physics and chemistry”, he revealed and straightened himself again. Actually it was more like alchemy, but he wasn’t sure if Caius and Fern would understand the difference between alchemy and magic, and he didn’t feel like explaining it now.

He wanted them to appreciate his art instead!

And it seemed as if Caius did appreciate his art! As the other noble said that his sculptural vision was quite unique, Tristan smiled all over his face. “That’s it”, he confirmed. “At least mostly, but I also make such sculptures because I can, and I don’t want to limit my creativity. And you are right, Etzos requested one of my sculptures.” He turned to Fern again. “The museum in Etzos requested one, to be exact. I chose to make a sculpture of the founder of their city. I think they really liked it!”

“So”, he said to Caius. He had noticed that the pair had momentarily stopped talking, and he immediately took advantage of that. “You mentioned your own creative pursuits, Lord Gawyne. Would you be willing to tell me more about it?”

“That’s my bodyguard Lianne by the way”, he remarked and gestured towards the redhead who flashed Caius and his companion a smile and curtsied. He’d realized that he hadn’t introduced her yet, and not doing so was unacceptable. Plenty of nobles ignored their servants and their guards unless they needed him because he thought that they were better than them, but he was friends with most of them (and sometimes more)!

[Caius Gawyne]

Fern grinned at the Duke as he defended himself and spoke of magic, both writing his words down and assuring him with an apologetic tone, "I meant no offense, Your Grace."

Caius, on the other hand, listened carefully, and while he'd perhaps read various accounts on magic in his time as a bookbinder as a student in Viden, snatching glances at texts he wouldn't have otherwise been privy to see, he wasn't aware of ever having a friend who was, in fact, a mage. The King's decision to begin tightening the grip on magic in Andaris was a dangerous, controversial one, but the young Gawyne's time studying elsewhere had allowed him a much broader, more intellectual glimpse at the arcane under Yvithia's careful watch.

"Physics and chemistry," The northern noble repeated, casting a sideways glance at Fern, who seemed to have stopped taking notes, the blonde gossip columnist a little disappointed at the lack of scandal, "So alchemy, then. Always a strange line to cross, that one. I don't think I've ever met anyone who has applied such knowledge to a creative venture, Tristan. I'd be interested in your process." Caius admitted with a smile, both casually curious about the subject of alchemy as a printmaker and as a student, but currently content with his courses of study. If such a practice could make statues move and make noise, the printer's apprentice wondered what sort of things could be done with the written or printed word, with books,

"We'll have to collaborate sometime, Your Grace."

He smiled, pausing when Tristan asked of his own work. Not expecting to have to talk about himself, the northern noble felt caught off guard for a moment, glancing at Fern even as his sharp blue irises paled toward silver in surprise. He'd had just enough to drink to make him feel more conversational, to loosen up his more reserved, introverted nature, and to give him a warm willingness to reveal glimpses of his innermost self and his work, "Ah, well, I'm a printmaker mostly. Wood block carving is my secret pleasure, but, by the Seven, I don't think I've told anyone that out loud." Caius chuckled, ignoring the smirk from his gossip columnist of a pretend date, "I've been accused of being a little abstract, but I prefer to illustrate the landscapes of my childhood or scenes from obscure religious texts I come across when re-binding old tomes. I don't—I've never really put any of it on public display. I'm sure my father the Baron would be horrified with such an endeavor."

The young Gawyne laughed then, uncomfortable and yet encouraged at the same time. He didn't talk much about what drove him to continue to study the Arts in spite of his parents' expectations, what drove him to pursue studies in both academia and the arts. He needed the outlet, the expression, the physical motion of creating art a way to process his thoughts.

"Nice to meet you, Lianne." Fern hummed warmly at the introduction, having become quiet after the conversation turned to things she didn't understand and wasn't sure would be of interest to her gossip readers. Her gaze lingering on the red-head for far longer than it should have. The northern noble nodded a greeting as well, looking back to Tristan after offering his bodyguard a smile, asking a question of his own,

"Do you find your new title an obstacle or an inspiration to your creativity?"

❦

[Tristan Venora]

“I wasn’t offended“, Tristan said to Fern because he really hadn't been - offended, that is. He’d just wanted her to understand that he was not a mage and thus not doing anything illegal that could lead to his execution or a lengthy stay in prison. He had no interest in being imprisoned!

It was probably really cold and unpleasant in prison, and the food probably sucked as well!

Having spoken to Fern, he turned back to Caius who had somehow drawn the correct conclusion – that he was not a mere boring chemist, but in fact an alchemist. That was enough for Tristan to look surprised (which he did by raising an eyebrow and opening his mouth slightly, but not saying anything).

The other noble was either familiar with alchemy or at least very, very observant!

“It’s indeed alchemy”, he confirmed. “If you are interested, we can talk a bit about it later and also discuss a possible collaboration”, he offered. His previous reluctance to explain his trade to Caius had dissipated somewhat since the man was obviously not completely ignorant when it came to such things. Besides, he loved making weird stuff with others!

“My father would probably be horrified with some of the things I make”, Tristan remarked when Caius told him about what he did and shrugged his shoulders. “But I still make them because I enjoy doing so. You have to show me your work sometimes. I’m really curious about it now!”

“Besides”, he added and looked at Caius thoughtfully. “How can you be sure that your father would disapprove if you’ve never put any of your work on display? Maybe he’d love it!”

“Both”, he replied honestly to Caius’ question. “I have less time for my art now. Some people think it’s wrong for a duke to still make sculptures and write stories and plays instead of dedicating all his time to politics, especially if said sculptures and stories and plays are somewhat unusual, but on the other hand being in such a position gives me easy access to the things I need to create my art.”

“And some people are actually more interested in my art now that I’m a duke.”

His eyes shimmered brightly as he said that. He didn’t care that those people only bought his art because he was famous and powerful now, it only mattered that they did.

Besides, they would eventually come to appreciate his art for itself, he was sure of it!

"It can't be that different for you though", he added and then he asked both Fern and Caius, "By the way, do you want another drink? There are pastries here as well. They are quite delicious."

"You should try them as well", he told Lianne.

[Caius Gawyne]

There wasn't anything particularly taboo about alchemy, save for perhaps the general assumption that the practice had some relation to magic. Caius was well-studied enough to have heard of it, to have had conversations about it, but not to have actually taken any classes himself, both in the more open-minded learning environment of the Viden Academy as well as in the slightly more opinionated Rynmere University. There were of course whispers of the strange and unusual things possible with a skilled and creative alchemist, and so when the Duke of Oakleigh revealed himself as one, the young Gawyne was visibly surprised.

"So, do you have studio assistants or ... is all your work your own?" Fern ventured curiously, catching on. Her question was clearly not about his sculpture so much as his modifications, wondering if he did the creative work while he had a partner or a handful of apprentices who did the alchemy or the finishing touches. It wasn't an uncommon practice, but the way in which the gossip columnist asked her question revealed she was much more interested in Tristan's actual skillset than whether or not he ran his own art studio in the Eastern Settlements.

Caius laughed at the invitation, not to be rude so much as to be self-deprecating, making it obvious he was very much into keeping his creative work either to himself or at least amongst his peers instead of out in the public, "A collaboration would be quite enjoyable, actually. We'll definitely have to make some plans—how long are you in Andaris for? I'd be happy to give you a tour of the print room of the University. I may even have some work hidden away there somewhere." He grinned almost shyly, making sure not to make eye contact with the suddenly interested Fern,

"You print more than newspapers, my Lord?" Miss Llewellyn taunted, though her giggle was for Lianne who the petite blonde was clearly making eyes at by now.

"Yes, I do, now that you ask. Are you going to write a story about me next, Fern?"

"You're going to have to try harder than that, Keys." She shook her head at him as if she wasn't sure whether to believe the printer's apprentice entirely, laughing and shrugging her shoulders while she used his Gazette nickname without even considering the company. She blushed, looking at him in apology but remembering that Caius really didn't care much about pretenses, "I'm sure you're capable of much juicier gossip than just some art."

"Perhaps." The northern noble glanced at his companion with a smirk, having come to the slow conclusion that he'd spent the evening as an attractive tool with a title to get the gossip columnist all the gossip she could ever have wanted here at the Duke's art show. It was alright. At least he'd had the chance to meet Tristan. Looking back at the other man, he chuckled at his comments,

"You know, most people do seem to become more interested once they find out I have a title, too. I suppose my family has never been displeased with my creative pursuits, just not supportive of me making art my career decision instead of, say, whatever the Fates they have planned for me." He grinned, aware that he could do both and smug about it. There were very little limitations for a noble, honestly, and especially one who hardly slept, "I don't think it sarding matters what you're doing with your spare time, so long as your Dutchy is happy and fed and protected—but not everyone in a position of power looks kindly on those who choose to actually enjoy themselves."

Caius shrugged, always seeking a balance but not quite yet achieving it himself. The thought of putting his own work on display was a fleetingly interesting one—did anyone really want to see things as he saw them? People seemed to find Tristan's sculptures interesting, scandalous, strange, or disturbing. It was a mixed bag, and the northern noble was comfortable enough that he could probably take some criticism and not be too crushed.

Fern perked up at refreshments, though, again, her inviting smile was much more for Lianne than the duke, "More wine? That would be wonderful. I'd definitely like to give the pastries a try."

The young Gawyne acquiesced with a nod. He could definitely use a bit more wine now that he was certainly going home alone, Fern having played a good game just to get herself into the exhibit. While they could keep up with each other in wit around the print room, she'd never been overly flirtatious ... except when she really wanted something of the printer's diri. She was pretty enough that he'd allowed the temptation, but now he knew better. Grinning at Tristan, "You have excellent taste in refreshments, my Grace, but I'd expect nothing else from Oakleigh. That said, I'll admit I wasn't expecting your style of sculpture. You're clearly making some people think," Caius chuckled, "and not everyone enjoys that."

Off Topic

If you wanna wrap it up, we can plan something in Zi'da!

❦

[Tristan Venora]

“I do everything myself“, Tristan answered. He was surprised that Fern had asked that question. Faith had occasionally helped him when she had still been his slave – he had enjoyed spending time with her – but apart from that he had always worked alone.

“Having an assistant or two would of course save me some time”, he admitted somewhat grudgingly. “But I’m not sure if I trust somebody else to realize my vision. Maybe I’ll take on an apprentice sometime though – provided that my duties to the kingdom allow that.”

Teaching somebody to make weird sculptures would be fun, he thought.

“I’ll only be in Andaris for a few trials”, he replied somewhat regretfully because he was really excited about working together with Caius now. “But I visit the capital at least once per season to catch up on the latest developments as well as visit my business associates.”

“I can definitely make time for a visit to the print room before I leave though”, he added.

He was completely oblivious to the fact that Fern was making eyes at Lianne. Lianne though had definitely noticed and smiled at the reporter somewhat bemusedly. She did not mind the attention at all even though Tristan and Caius were more her type than the petite blonde.

“For some of our fellow nobles being miserable and making other people’s lives miserable as well seems to be a way of life!” he remarked and laughed as Caius talked about how not everyone in a position of power looked kindly on those who chose to actually enjoy themselves.

There was, of course, not really anything funny about it, but Tristan was in a good mood, and he was determined not to let anybody or anything destroy said good mood!

As Fern and Caius let him know that they wanted more wine as well as pastries, Tristan quickly filled two glasses and handed them (and the pastries) to his guests. He did not mind playing the part of the servant at all!

“I like to surprise people”, Tristan replied. “It would be boring to always do what people expect. As for those that don’t enjoy my art, I have to admit, right now I don’t care.”

“I enjoyed making your acquaintance”, he said honestly. They would unfortunately have to end their conversation soon. They were other people who wanted to get to know him and talk to him about his art as well (and some who just wanted him to get to know them).

[Zip]

Overview

"He knew that Kromes were (all) ugly, Andaris’ were perverts, Endors weird and Venoras pretty weird perverts."

*nods sagely*

Firstly, I just want to say this thread has more Shadowhunter/Mortal instrument FCs than I'm comfortable with. Secondly, I share in your grief. The loss of the Peake statue will haunt the Rynmere art scene for generations. Thirdly, this was a fun thread with two artsy type nobles. Tristan's always a dear to read. He's so excitable and sincere and I'm starting to wonder a little how he lasted as duke this long e_e. Caiaus stands in contrast, reserved and somewhat controlled, and always poking. Good read. Enjoy your points.

@Tristan

Points

XP: 15/15

Loot/Injuries/Overstepping

Fame: +10 for contributing your (second finest, non-peakeish) statues to a huge art exhibit

Knowledge

Sculpting: Galatea: My capstone ability allows me to make moving sculptures
Strength: Heavy lifting
Sculpting: Artistic license
Sculpting: Last-minute changes
Etiquette: Giving the visitors of your exhibition attention
Politics: People seem to be very interested in the private life of politicians
Politics: Balancing personal goals with title requirements
Politics: Magic is illegal in Rynmere
Politics: Regularly visting the capital in order to catch up on the latest developments
PC: Caius Gawyne: second son of Baron Frederick Gawyne
PC: Caius Gawyne: student of creative pursuits
PC: Caius Gawyne: Printmaker
NPC: Fern Llewellyn: columnist with the Rynmere Gazette
Immortal: Syroa: Immortal of Transformation and Fury

@Baby gellert

Points

XP: 15/15

Loot/Injuries/Overstepping

+4 for swinging on by with a hot date and rubbing shoulders with dukey duke

Knowledge

Detection: Realizing she’s not into you
Detection: The difference between magic and alchemy
Etiquette: Proper introductions with a Duke
Etiquette: Appreciating someone else’s art
Intelligence: Broaching the subject of magic in public
Intelligence: Asking about artistic vision in order to dig deeper about a person
Politics: Balancing personal goals with title requirements
Politics: Complimenting the host
Politics: Not living your life under your parents' shadows
PC: Tristan Venora
Tristan, Duke of Oakleigh
Tristan, Sculptor and Alchemist
Tristan, Does what he wants!
NPC: Fern Llewellyn: Rynmere Gazette Gossip Columnist
NPC: Fern Llewellyn: Into the ladies
Religion: Syroa, Immortal of Transformation and Fury

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