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[travelerscurse]

 These are the kinds of nights Gustavain has always liked the best.

The Carline Canopy isn't standing room only, not overly crowded, but there are enough people to make an appreciative audience and to make a little noise for a good show.  It's just late enough in the evening that things haven't yet gotten raucous, but it's obvious they're going to.  Someone's already bought him a drink or two and he's got some other bards to share the load with or to play opposite, but there's not so many clamoring for attention that his own star can't shine a little.

It's been a bit of a long week-- he's been trying to do some little odd jobs here and there out in the Shroud, mostly hunting and helping to curb some minor Ixali issues, and while he enjoys the work and is finding a natural aptitude for it, his fingers ache now from lance shafts and bowstrings alike.  Luckily while there's some similarities in some ways, he's able to compensate for the sorest of his fingers with the violin, though it certainly also makes them a different sort of sore in the process.  His best instrument has always been the one he was born with anyway, and with other bards happier to play things like the flute, it's easing into a lovely night, just what he needs to relax.  

Comments

[scholarlywarden]

Opal wants to protest, because he's still not entirely sure why he of all people was sent to deliver the message, but it was still just a message delivery, and not anything all that sensitive in nature from the sound of it. But he will just let it pass with a small tilt of his head, an acknowledgement to Gustavain's point.

He does not shy away from the lean in, listening carefully to the warning with a small nod. "It cannot be as poor a welcome as any Wood would give," he says, and though the delivery is straight there is a small quirk of a smile- which may only make sense if Gustavain knows that Viera in their Wood tend to shoot first and ask questions later, "but I thank you for the warning." It is not necessarily needed, he is surrounded by pirates most days and you do not exactly let your guard down around them either, but the fact that Gustavain would seek to warn him is... reassuring.

[travelerscurse]

"Nor Ishgard," he says with a small sigh and another sip of his ale, which marks where he's from more cleanly if his accent hadn't already given him away. "Still. Best to be prepared all the same." He can see the other bard beckoning him back over to continue and he waves back for another moment. Ah well, he can do better than a line like this, but he doesn't have enough time,

"I'd offer to show you around and help you out, but I'm afraid I'd be seen as having ulterior motives when I inevitably try to take you home with me later tonight, so perhaps it's better if you find your own way," he winks, "Enjoy the show," and then he's gone back through the crowd towards the stage.

He doesn't really expect he'll end up taking the adventurer of the hour to bed tonight, but hey, a little optimism never hurt anyway.

[scholarlywarden]

Oh. Oh good. He is straightforward.

He doesn't really have the chance to reply, watching the man make his way back to the stage, mulling over the more or less blatant offer with another sip. There would certainly be worse ways to spend his evening...

Which is how, should Gustavain look out to the crowd again, he'll see the Viera in more or less the same place, clearly not planning to go anywhere.

[travelerscurse]

He doesn't necessarily think that means Opal is amenable, though it does at least mean he's not offended. Not that it would have stopped him from flirting, but he didn't do it without a thought of offense, at least. He does maybe hedge his bets by meeting Opal's eyes a few times in some tamer songs and then straight up singing a verse of the more bawdy ones straight to him, as the night grows darker and the mood descends into such things. He's grinning as he does it, though, lets it be lighthearted, a tease more than something he intends to seriously pursue.

He does mean to pursue it, of course, but there's a bit of a delicate dance to be done here-- he doesn't want to be seen as being irritatingly forward.

[scholarlywarden]

Opal returns the gaze, though given that he's in the audience it's hard not to, and he chuckles at the one bawdy verse. It is lighthearted on his end as well- he has picked up that such things tend to have more meaning to people here, clearly different from a duty to mate and the desire for the pleasure of it often looked down upon, but those meanings don't really matter all that much to him. And there is something about Gustavain, not quite familiar but more like a kindred spirit, even though it is clear already that there are vast differences between them.

He will wait until the man's eventual return, giving him a small smile in greeting. "You are very good," he says, and as someone who doesn't say something without reason, it's clear he means it.

[travelerscurse]

"Thank you," he says, sincerely to Opal, accepting another pint from the innkeeper with a nod as he does. "I should hope to keep getting such praise," he teases, and it's pretty clear that he's making an innuendo even without the little wink.

"It's been a fun skill to learn. I was never allowed to pursue music overmuch as a child, so it always feels good to stretch my wings a bit, as it were," he takes a long sip of the ale. "What about yourself? Any inclination to music at all?"

[scholarlywarden]

That little smile returns, amused as he takes another sip of his drink. He is... enjoying this.

He hums thoughtfully, and though the sound is musical itself he shakes his head. "I have not tried," he admits, "at least, not more than keeping simple rhythms or some such. I was not terrible at that, but I hardly think it is my calling, either." His voice is fair enough, but he thinks he would get distracted from any instrument learning in favor of books too quickly.

[travelerscurse]

"Ah, though I did have a genuine interest in whether or not you were musically inclined, I must confess that now I fear the follow up writes itself, each potential rejoinder more crude than the last," he laughs, considers that due warning before he adds, "Perhaps I'll go with then shall I teach you to sing for me? Or perhaps would you be interested in a private performance? might be more to your liking?" he grins and then shakes his head,

"Please, feel no pressure to indulge me in such things unless you truly wish to, but do know that I do not speak in jest, either. You're lovely."

[scholarlywarden]

That gets Opal to laugh, and the act likely makes him all the lovelier; when the stoic mask drops, there is an undeniable vibrancy to him, a quiet vivaciousness and zeal for all this new world has to offer. He does not shine in the way Gustavain does, attracting those around him with sheer brilliance, but there is still a pull there, perhaps more akin to a magnet- a gentle tug into his orbit, and once there making it undesirable to pull away.

"You call it crude, I call it refreshingly straight-forward," he says, one of those little smiles gracing him again, "I am still adjusting to the run-around people here seem to employ instead of just asking directly."

[travelerscurse]

Gustavain shrugs a bit,

"I can certainly be subtle if I wish to be, but I see little reason in these such matters. Who knows if our paths will ever cross again? There may not be another opportunity and I would not wish to lose this one by being coy," he grins, leans in a bit, clear that he's teasing, "I'd not want to miss the chance to say I managed to convince you to bed me before you were the most famous adventurer in Eorzea, after all." He straightens slightly,

"I believe that I've sang more than enough tonight to cover my supper, so now I suppose the only question is my place or yours," he chuckles. It's an interesting bit of courtesy, that he doesn't presume one or the other. Truthfully, he knows next to nothing about Viera and their customs, but he's found that typically when that is true, it's better to let the other lead in these matters.

[scholarlywarden]

Opal shakes his head with a smile. It is more funny to him that anything, that some people seem to assume he's going to be some great adventurer. It's not really his plan; even getting into it this much hadn't been his plan. He sort of just... winds up stumbling into things, can't ignore someone who needs help even on his worst day, but he's sure it won't be an option anymore should he manage to get to Sharlayan. Still, he doesn't push back against it, not seeing the point. Continuing to adventure would be far from the worst thing to do until he gets there.

"I do not have a 'place,'" he says with a wry smile- maybe he would have gotten a room tonight, maybe not, but it would not be the first or last time he opted to just sleep out in the wilderness. (He wouldn't mind that for a rendezvous, either, but he doubts that's what the bard has in mind.) "So I suppose you should lead the way."

[travelerscurse]

Gustvain doesn't like to "rough it" when he can help it-- he gets enough of that when he can't help it, but sleeping out under the stars with a lover isn't necessarily roughing it, either.

"Well then, I hope you aren't afraid of heights," he downs his ale and hooks an arm through Opal's to lead him away with a saucy wave and a wink to the other bard he was singing with. He has a little room up in the very highest part of the inn, up above where most people sleep. It's too many ladders (read: any ladders at all) for a guest room and it's an odd little space to rent out, too small and too inaccessible for most people. And most adventurers around here were just passing through. Gustavain is an odd sort in this way, too-- indistinguishable from an adventurer in many ways, even taking levequests and odd requests, but never really showing much inclination to move on from Gridania.

He will eventually, of course, he doesn't consider this tiny room to be a permanent home, but he's walked a long road to just get here since the Calamity and he's enjoying having some small amount of roots for a bit, remembering what it was like to be part of a community.

They'll get to the rooms and the ladders in a minute, but the moment they're in the darkness of the halls, at least temporarily private, he'll tug Opal into him a bit, pull him in for a kiss that he doesn't ask or hesitate on, but does fully telegraph. It's somehow both chaste and heated, just a warm press of their mouths, nothing fancy or deep, but the way Gustavain pulls him in says that's more about not ending up making out in the hallway than it is any desire to be chaste

[scholarlywarden]

There is an extent to which Opal views sleeping in such closed off spaces an often unnecessary luxury, though certainly a welcome on days where the weather is more... eventful (and he will admit that that occurs more frequently here than in the Wood).

"I would be an exceptionally poor Viera if I were," he points out, amused, easily falling into step with their arms looped. If anything, it makes him all the more curious about where they're heading.

Not so curious that he's ignoring the signs of the man next to him, of course. He responds easily to the tug, like a dancer working off their partner, finding a way into the kiss with ease and returning the heat but breaking off just soon enough to make it more enticing.

[travelerscurse]

Consider him enticed, then. Gustavain follows him into the space he leaves when he pulls back from the kiss, laughing delightedly at the pursuit before kissing him again. He does pull away before it can become three, though, tugging Opal along towards the stairs and then up them.

They don't get far apart again for most of the rest of the way up, another handful of warm kisses shared whenever one or the other of them (or maybe just Gus) can't wait any longer. Everything about it feels playful, Gustavain never very far from a laugh even as his own amorous advances start to become a little more serious the further they get from the likelihood that they'll be walked in on. No one stepping out of a room is going to get an unexpected eyefull of anything, but neither of their clothes are entirely without buttons popped and ties untied before they make it up.

There are a few ladders to climb, at the end, that he does let go of Opal long enough to climb, and then they're there-- to a little space at once cozy and spartan up under the eaves. Gustavain doesn't keep many mementos or spare objects-- there's a dresser and armoire, and a little chest at the foot of the bed, but there aren't any signs that there's anything here more than a typical inn room. Still, the little space manages to somehow look lived-in all the same.

Not that Opal is given much time to explore, even if he wanted to, because now that they have nowhere else to be, Gustavain deepens the next kiss hungrily.

[scholarlywarden]

For all that it is about to get hot and heavy, there is something joyfully light about this, and Opal finds himself smiling more than he has in weeks. It does feel like they’re just having fun together, without the weighty expectations some people put on this.

Opal nearly vaults up the ladder with the grace only someone who’s spent their life climbing up impossibly tall trees can show, but doesn’t have time to do anything other than that before being pulled into Guatavain’s embrace, returning the kiss with enthusiasm. Now assured privacy, his hands find the edges of the elezen’s shirt, playfully tugging it off his shoulders.