Calen was far less flamboyantly dressed than he could have been, that isn’t to say he wasn’t dressed flamboyantly in a thousand shades of green, fake leaves and a flowing cape which looked a lot better from far away and under bright light Calen still looked
incredibly fae. Appropriate for himself, of course, having just finished his last performance playing Oberon which had been quite the steal for Calen, his first leading role and he had performed admirably to the point some reviews only mentioned his attendance at Beacon in passing and two not at all. Nevertheless seeing the Fae King walking down Beacon’s streets, hair fluttering in the non-existent wind and remaining completely dry despite the pouring rain drew more than a few glances. Of course, the reason for this was a wind dust device hidden in Calen’s crown but he was hardly going to ruin someone’s mystical wonder, not when it was giving himself such attention at any rate. (Just think a slightly more advanced air umbrella.)
Feeling on top of the world, Calen was on the prowl looking for excitement and adventure, months of all his already limited free time being eaten up by practice had paid off and he had things to catch up on. There was no reason to dive in too quickly, however.
Didn’t the anticipation for the feast only build the appeal and inevitable satisfaction. Calen reasoned to himself. Recalling a small tavern which would serve his appetite well enough Calen hurried quickly over to the ‘Dish’ even using his semblance to clear the occasional building that got in his way. Recalling the promise of drink, company, stupid games and even stupid brawls only emphasised the delight the gaunt boy took in the cries of surprise, wonder and outrage as he made a mockery of road laws as well as trespassing ones.
Finding his way to the ‘Dish’ in quick order Calen even managed to make it inside without the police following him despite several threats he had heard from his way over.
Good. It was far too early to be dancing with the police… maybe after dessert.’ Calen thought to himself. Still, the trip had taken a bit out of Calen and he was a bit flushed when he went straight to the bartender to order.
’A glass of sherry and a refill for everyone in the bar.’ Calen remarked tossing over a significant stack of lien and raising his voice so everyone could hear his generosity as otherwise what was the point. The cheers from the other drinkers were almost worth it in of itself and although Calen wasn’t terribly wealthy he had just gotten a substantial bonus from his dancing and the hunting contracts came in often enough so he could make these sorts of gestures. But there, of course, was always a way to make money in taverns you just needed to know where to look and how to get everyone's attention. And luckily for Calen, he had already finished stage two.
The darts table seemed to be the most likely culprit, cries a little too loud for there to just be pride on the line and the awkward shuffling which suggested something changing hands, something they didn’t want others to see, something Calen could work with. Sipping slowly at his drink, already his baser instincts were challenging his control and Calen wanted nothing more to drink until he could drink no more, well not nothing… Having enshrined himself as the bar favourite patron for at least the next round Calen managed to easily enrol himself in the game of darts. All that was at stake was money which was a little disappointed although more because Calen had gotten his hopes up rather than the men and women involved looked like they would be into anything harder but money would do for now. Calen threw the first game to ease himself into the new crowd, no need to chase everyone away too quickly, but after that started taking these players for all they were worth.
While waiting for his turn to throw again Calen turned his attention to the rest of the bar, he had too focused on making a good entrance to pay much attention to specifics other than what was directly in front of him. What he had been told of this place sung true and it did definitely feel and look like an old-timey pub or at least what the movies showed them to be… which was probably a bit better than they actually were. Catching his attention was the bar front where two seeming strangers seemed to be starting up a conversation.
Best of luck Sir. Calen thought to himself as he raised his glass in salute to the black haired half to encourage his complete misreading of the situation. Calen was seriously projecting.