Rapscallion

[Reveuse]

OOC​

Prologue
Without a Home​

Hues of crimson and violet painted the sky as the Floating Opera opened its doors for its last performance in the city of Mimosa amidst cheers and shouts for more from the populace. The massive construct of hot air filled silk and lightweight woods and metals showcased the grinning form of a jester at its front, the chest cavity of the porcelain construct left open as the main entrance to what laid inside. Jovial and whimsical colors painted the whole airship, giving an air of festivity to any place it passed by.

It was a special day for those having the skills of an entertainer, for tonight, as was customary for the Opera's due departure, a handful of lucky individuals would become part of the Ignacio Troupe, the merry band of roguish artists in charge of the airship itself. Tonight, six lucky ones would become part of the troupe, and their whole lives would change for the better... Or for worse.

As both the spectators and hopeful recruits entered, they were met with a great stage surrounded by theatre-like chairs and benches, the whole spectator area spanning at least five stories in height and being filled with nooks and crannies to sit or perch oneself. Jesters, clothed of extravagant silks and leathers, lead everyone to their rightful places, that it may be in the viewing area of in the backstage.

Behind the crimson curtains hiding what lay further into the great ship was a restless atmosphere of anticipation and nervousness as all the performers got ready for the final grand showcase of their skills. As the hopeful new proteges-to-be approached the man in the center of it all, he gestured for them to get ready with a great belly laugh and left for the stage. As he finally reached the center of the great circular area, he smiled grandly and gestured elegantly as the whole ship lighted up as the last of the sun's ray caressed the golden accents of the Troupe's prized construct.

"Welcome, Ladies and Gentlemen, to the Ignatio Troupe's Floating Opera! Tonight you will be awed by the performance of a lifetime as, as is customary for us, we will hold a great performance to see if any of the hopeful that came to us are worthy of bearing the Ignatio name, to, we assure you, your greatest amazement and pleasure! Now, let yourself be swept away by out latest tale; The Beggar!" With that said, a great cheer resonated through the entirety of the Floating Opera, leaving behind a charged and anticipatory atmosphere.

Bowing deeply, the portly Troupe Master left the stage as the great crimson curtain opened, letting in a stream of performers. A melancholy tune filled the area as the stage decor took the shape of the slums and a sole performer mimicked with great skill a lowly beggar. It was the time to shine, the time to amaze, and there was only one chance to do it all!

Objective

Choose ONE Troubadour skill to showcase, using creativity and good timing to work with the other entertainers to make as brilliant a showing as you can. Your first REPUTATION score will be between 1 (Lowest) and 10 (Highest) depending on your individual performance.

 

[HecateProxy]

"Nope, not doing this."

'Oh, yes you are.'

"Haha, you're very funny...no. We/re going home....now."

'Don't be a big a baby.'


---
"Welcome, Ladies and Gentlemen, to the Ignatio Troupe's Floating Opera! Tonight you will be awed by the performance of a lifetime as, as is customary for us, we will hold a great performance to see if any of the hopeful that came to us are worthy of bearing the Ignatio name, to, we assure you, your greatest amazement and pleasure! Now, let yourself be swept away by out latest tale; The Beggar!" With that said, a great cheer resonated through the entirety of the Floating Opera, leaving behind a charged and anticipatory atmosphere.

Bowing deeply, the portly Troupe Master left the stage as the great crimson curtain opened, letting in a stream of performers. A melancholy tune filled the area as the stage decor took the shape of the slums and a sole performer mimicked with great skill a lowly beggar. It was the time to shine, the time to amaze, and there was only one chance to do it all!

---


Nerves rattled in the young woman's chest; her hands balled into little fists by her side. Was her heart beating? There was a moment of uncertainty that filled her. A roar of the crowd that rang in her ears before it dripped away as the music began to swell. Before her steely eyes the scene unfolded; this was their chance. Sink or swim. Part of her mind screamed to run away but whose voice rang true? Was it the burning desire to unfold on the stage or was it the pleading voice that urged her to return to calmer waters? Without even realizing it she had strode into the light. Sweat beaded up beneath a slick oily layer that made her skin seem to sparkle beneath the heated lights. The music swelled around her; faceless creatures that sat in the stands slowly slipped away into shadow until there was none but her and the beggar.

Amarantha

It was such a subtle shift that only those who knew her would be able to spot it. The small smirk that pulled at the corners of her mouth, the sudden draw of confidence that surged through each movement, as well as the spark that seemed to light her eyes. Amarantha's hips swayed in rhythm of the song. She spun daintily on the fringe of the stage, her outfit hugged her lithe frame giving off the same oily sheen as her flesh. In her hands she spun a simple baton. Behind her the beggar played out his story; silently gesturing to the parade of performers that flitted around him. She found herself flashing a sly grin towards the crowd before leaping off towards the performer. He offered out dirty looking hands; gruff and grimy against her shimmering essence. Amarantha recoiled in disgust keeping her steps in time with song. Anger heated her face; as if it was such a sin for someone like him to beg someone like her. She swung the baton at him as he neatly dodged the vicious blow. She lurched forward using the position to slip a small lighter from a hidden pocket in her outfit. The music danced around her picking up a more frantic pace with deep tones of sorrow. It was now or never; she had to dazzle. She had to shine. Grasping the baton with both hands the woman drew up her weapon once more; the lighter hidden between her fingers. She crushed a small capsule that she had kept hidden and fought the urge to puke as the contents bit and assaulted her mouth. A small flame burst forward as she spewed the liquid from her lips.

The flames licked across her oily flesh; the gel she had applied earlier protecting her from the cruel flame as her baton caught fire. She sent it twirling towards the beggar. His movements timed with hers as he dodged once more. She had turned this sad tale into one fraught with danger. Amarantha twirled in synch as they turned to face the beggar. He made a pleading gesture towards her but it was met with only a cruel smile as she swung once again. The man rolled across the floor throwing up his dirty hands in one last plea. The woman faked a dramatic laugh launching herself once more. This time he did not dodge but met her blow with a solid thunk from pipe he had picked up. Now the play between them both had begun to unfold as the other seasoned performers begun to circle around them. Picking up the various props they had laying around. There was just enough to give the play the whole run-down feel while still giving them something to use.

The beggar and her twirled in heated battle. Dodging each other with deadly grace; fire leaping and dancing in the air as if it was another performer. They danced within the circle. The other performers jeering and jabbing at her as she drew near. Amarantha's arms and legs ached with each movement as she danced away. Time stretching out before them. Their weapons landed solidly against one another; struggling for power. She let herself buckle. The beggar now swinging smoothly at her as she twirled and leapt out of the way. She crushed her second capsule and sent another spray of fire from her lips at the crowd of performers. They arched away from her dramatically and with that she slunk back towards the shadows; defeated. As the performers retook their stage and the beggar now safe to plead once again. Behind the curtains she quickly doused her baton drawing in deep breathes to sooth the ache in her lungs and limbs. Everything hurt but it was a good sort of pain; the adrenaline shook her to her core. Fingers trembling as Amarantha brought water to her lips to chase out the foul after taste.
​

 

[LittleRedPanda]

Tempest

Taking a deep breath, Tempest watched as the last performer walked back from doing her bit. She had done a very good job. Beneath her mask, Tempest felt her face heat up. Somehow, she had to dazzle, just like that girl, it was her only chance to get away from this city. Adjusting her costume she prepared for her turn. Dressed in an all black cloak that hooded her entire face, shadowing her mask, Tempest stepped slowly out onto the stage. Squaring her shoulders she felt courage seep through her, if she could survive what she had survived, she could do this. Walking to the center of the stage, the music took on a mysteriously ominous feel as the cloaked, black figure stepped into the spotlight. Slowly the stage filled with fog from behind stage. Her back was hunched, to give her figure the illusion of being an old woman. As the music swelled, Tempest began to sing in a foreign tongue. Walking, hunchbacked toward the old beggar she pointed a crooked finger at him, singing in her foreign tongue about how little time he had left on this earth. Picking up on her ques the beggar fell to his knees, pantomiming pleading with the old woman for more time. Shaking her hooded head, she again pointed at him, her clear, sweet, yet somehow aged sounding voice and beautiful syllabled words echoing around the theater.

Suddenly the beggar began to laugh at her, dismissing her as a hoax. The music swelled as Tempest stepped back, feigning shock. Her voice rose higher in pitch, her tone searingly beautiful. Raising her gnarled hands as the music lowered, Tempest changed her tune, singing a hushed curse in the same foreign tongue. The man stopped laughing, looking at her with frightened eyes, shaking his head. But the old woman would not be placated and her volume rose higher and higher as her curse came into effect. Suddenly the lights on the stage flickered and went out, the only light left on was a lone spotlight in the middle of the stage. As her curse was coming to an end, she walked toward the light as the music swelled higher and higher and Tempest's soprano voice, altered to sound much older, hit notes higher and higher up the scale. Finally with a large puff of smoke behind her, Tempest straightened up as she came into the spotlight, throwing off her cloak to reveal her frightful raven mask and a long, tightly fitted, black feathered dress. Twirling around as the music swelled she spread her arms to the sides, reveling in the feeling as black wings unfolded from the sides of the dress, stretching out to her spread arms. Whirling to face the beggar she spread her wings wide to him, almost beckoning him to come to her. The music died out completely as The Raven's voice, now sounding like the voice of a young woman, clear and smooth as silk, unfolded into the audience.

"Raven oh sweet raven
Souring gentle on the nigh air

As you guide the dead man
Sole from his eternal hell

O my raven will you one day
Guide me

Raven o my sweet raven
I am waiting wishing hoping

That one day you will guide me
I follow as much as I can now

And I will always follow you my
sweet sweet raven

When will you come for me
When will you come for me my raven"
​

And suddenly there was a huge puff of smoke, blocking out The Raven from the view of the audience. When the smoke finally cleared, it revealed an empty stage where she has stood, nothing remaining but her black cloak, lying on the floor of the stage. The beggar took one wide eyed look at where the apparition of the bird had once stood, and fainted. Backstage, Tempest took a huge breath and shook her arms, jiggling out the many nerves that had been coursing through her body, if that wasn't a show, she didn't know what was.

 

[Asmodeus]

Then behind the fainted beggar a trapdoor opened. A third unsavoury, this one decked in fabulous reds and golds, climbed up mask-first from darkness. Chancing upon the vagrant with dainty surprise, he then reached a slender hand into his sleeve. A bottle, opaque and delicate, passed deftly beneath the beggar's nose, and in one great jolt he came awake.

So there he was, the cursed and half-singed beggar, cradled by an illustrious fellow. Malfoso smiled and threw arms wide in welcoming gesture. He stood, helped up the man, then bowed his head, a dapper gentleman. It was reciprocated, clumsily. Malfoso shook his head and waved dismissive hands at the vagrant, before demonstrating a second time. This time the beggar got it. Malfoso laughed, offered his hand, and they shook as stylish equals.

From one sleeve a walking cane, from the other the same. A cane for each man. Malfoso took his and demonstrated once again - a sleek and elegant circuit of the stage. The beggar copied, hobbling and holding the cane upside down. Malfoso feigned despair. He rushed at the beggar, stripped his rags away to reveal a matching suit of devilish red. Each man rejoiced, embraced, then walked arm-in-arm. They circled the stage, bowed to each other once again.

Malfoso pulled a watch from his pocket and checked. The beggar pulled out a rat. They looked at one another, then swapped possessions. Malfoso tossed the rat away. The beggar gnawed on the pocket watch. A series of gestures followed, in which the gentleman explained the concept of time and the beggar nodded eagerly.

Then, with grandiose posture, Malfoso drew from his sleeve his final, greatest accoutrement. A comb, long and golden. The beggar stared in awe. Malfoso approached slowly, a surgeon's grace, and ran the implement through the man's hair. And such metamorphosis there followed... his greying tangles smoothed and warped to fine and golden strands. The transformation was impressive. The beggar bristled, dusted down his suit, then twirled his cane and pocket-watch.

But one thing remained now. With a dazzling flurry of his arms, Malfoso cast his spell. Arcane gestures spiralled, ending as he brought his hand against the smiling mouth-piece of his own mask. Like ink the painted grin passed deftly to his hand and like tattoo was carried on his palm towards the beggar. Malfoso smeared the man's face and sent him reeling.

And the beggar, when his panic ended, lowered hands from his face to reveal that same wide and painful, ghoulish smile, now trapped upon his face. He clawed at his jaw, he twirled, he gestured for help.

But Malfoso was already sauntering onwards. The dapper gentleman slipped between the curtains and left the beggar to his flailing.

 

[Excesmyr]

Starburst stood behind the curtains waiting for her cue. She wasn't nervous, or at least told herself she wasn't. Star took deep breaths and ran through her warm-ups to get rid of the nerves. This was her shot at getting her foot in the door and getting noticed. She couldn't screw it up. As Malfoso's act started to wind down, she adjusted her mask out of agitation. The knives hidden throughout her garments weighed her down, but she had gotten used to it in her practice.

The performer exited the stage and the beggar saw fit to have himself a snack: a shiny red apple. This was her cue. She hurled her knife from off stage, managing to embed itself within the apple as he took a bite out of it. The knife, along with the apple, lodged itself in a wooden support beam across the stage. She took this moment of surprise to march onto stage confidently in her colorful clothing. She smiled widely at the audience before looking at the beggar, who has been backing up slowly for the duration of the entrance. The beggar found his back to a large wooden wall.

With an almost sadist-like smirk she produced a blade from her sleeve and with a flick of a wrist sailed to a position next the the beggar's fingers. Not letting a moment of rest she twirled, unleashing another knife at the hapless beggar. Thus began her onslaught. In a flurry of spins and twirls, she let loose of barrage of knives at the beggar who didn't flinch for a moment. Each knife landed within mere centimeters from the victim.

With each knife thrown, her costume began to lighten allowing for more agile moves. She leapt into the air turning horizontally and spinning whilst throwing a final knife. She landed facing away from the beggar in a kneeling position. She heard the thud of the knife hitting the wood and smirked. She stood up slowly and confidently facing the audience. She threw her hands up in a brash, over-confident manner before leaving off-stage.