(1865-08-24) A Rose from the Marketplace
A Rose from the Marketplace
Summary: Lost in the marketplace on her way to the Blushing Petal, Rhiannon receives some unexpected help in the form of Philippe.
Date: 1865-08-24
Related: None
NPCs: {$npc}
Players:
Philippe  Rhiannon  

Alasce - Marketplace
In scene set
IC 1865-08-24

The streets of Alasce can be busy, especially near the marketplace. With the market in full swing, the square is rather busy…and rather chaotic.

One would think it was a perfect place to have a meeting. In plain sight, in the middle of a crowd.

Nestled on a rather busy corner stands a bard in dark red and green. The blonde tousled locks partially obscure bright blue eyes as the bard Philippe peers out into the square. His lute is in his hand, with his hat at his feet as he practices a pastime he has performed countless times before….busking. But, it appears that he is also waiting. For something or someone…and that he is playing merely for his own benefit.

Rhiannon is so completely and utterly lost in this chaotic stream of relentless bodies. Worse, her gray eyes keep tossing and turning this way and that, nervously in search of something among the many distractions of hawkers and beggars and buskers. She should never have come here wearing what she did, an eye-turning burgundy bodice tied provocatively atop a white linen chemise, its sleeves scandalously lowered down her bare shoulders. Her tanned cheeks have turned a permanent pink, embarrassed to be seen in such a revealing ensemble. She lowers her gaze and tries her best not to be noticed, lifting the yellow of her skirt ever so slightly above her white hose in order to keep the mud off its hem and relegated to the soles of her brown-shoed feet. She wears a humble brown pack on her back, just large enough to carry her things, skittish in the face of such a threat as so many possible pickpockets all around her.

Finally, she breathes out a heavy and defeated sigh. She stops in her tracks within the crowd and switches gears. With just a momentary pursing of her lips and a straightening of her blood red tresses, she begins to ask for directions.

"Excuse me? Miss? Do you know where the Blushing Petal might be?" One failure, "excuse me, Master Merchant, might you direct me to the Blushing Petal?" Another loss, "my apologies, my Lord, but perchance, do you know where the Blushing Petal may lie?…w-what? No. I…I a-am not for rent…tonight…"

She breathes out a heavy sigh, stopping once more to shake her head and groan in despair.

To some, the plight of the poor female would go unnoticed. To Philippe? She stands out rather prominently. A slow smile pulls at his lips as he swings the lute around to his back and kicks up the hat to his hand, collecting the few coins that passerbys have deposited. With a shrug, he tosses the hat to the side, then steps into the crowd, heading directly to the redhead.

"Allow me, my Lady, to assist." An arm hooks into the female's own, as the bard leads her out of the crowd.

All the while, Philippe is speaking…quickly and quietly. "I could not help but notice that you needed a little assistance. I sincerely hope you did not mind." He offers a soft laugh. "Besides, it is no use to ask for directions in the middle of the market. Not for the Blushing Petal. People are much too distracted to notice."

Rhiannon momentarily flinches when a stranger suddenly takes her by the arm and hurries her out of the marketplace, "sir? Sir! Please! What are you doing? I-" And then she hears him speaking, and she visibly relaxes. With a small smirk, she shakes her head again and says, "you know, you could've told me that -before- you took my by my arm." That smirk transforms into a grateful smile nonetheless, "but…I am thankful to have found such a gentleman, and to realize I have not been accosted by a…well, a less than reputable source." She giggles lightly and allows the man to lead her outward, "so does this mean you know where I can find the Blushing Petal? I've been looking all over this God-forsaken city and it would seem like the Sidhe have concealed it from my very eyes."

"But of course, my dear lady. I will be more than happy to take you there." The male's voice is friendly enough, with a hint of amusement as Philippe leads on. The bard seems sure-footed, weaving through the crowd with relative ease.

As the pair walk on, a soft laugh escapes from Philippe. "Forgive me for the suddenness of our meeting. I was sent to ensure that I saw a certain damsel to the safety of the Blushing Petal. You fit the description that my Lady D'Geroux gave me, though her words failed to capture your beauty, if you do not mind me saying so." Another chuckle escapes from Philippe's lips. "Besides, you look like you needed assistance. I could never resist a damsel in distress."

Rhiannon flushes a deep and bashful pink, cheeks stained heatedly from his words, "I am no Lady. I am but a common woman. It is at the Blushing Petal that I work, though I have yet to begin my first day." At last, she notices the cut of his cloth and the billowing sleeves. Her eyes widen slightly, "but it would appear you do not share the same, my Lord." As the man strides confidently away from the marketplace, she lifts her skirts with one hand and does her best to keep up with his longer legs, a flutter of nervousness rushing through her spine to be held at the arm by a perceived noble born.

And then she hears the name D'Geroux, and she stops in her tracks in surprise, altogether ignoring his casual compliment. It is all she can do to not fall to the ground if he continues unabated however, destined to stumble if her guide does not lessen his pace, "my Lord, I…I was told it is not public knowledge which House the brothel belongs to." She licks her lips, before hesitantly adding, "if you came in search of me, then you know I arrived here to work for the family's fortune. You cannot be Talia, as it is said that she is a woman. If so, then…" She taps her chin in thought, "if I may ask, are you a cousin of hers? Or perhaps a brother?"

It is now Philippe's turn to blush. "Nay, milady." He heard the comment previously…but chose to ignore it, still using the Lady affection. "The Countess Talia is very much a woman, of this I can assure you. And I am not a cousin nor a brother." With a small flourish, he bows before Rhiannon. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Philippe, bard of the house D'Geroux, a commoner such as yourself. And I am at your service."

With a smirk from the bard, the two are on their way…the Blushing Petal coming into view. Philippe's voice drops to a whisper, loud enough only for Rhiannon's ears to hear. "And it is not public knowledge. But that does not mean it is not known."

Rhiannon's cheeks remain blotched with carnation pink as the man refuses to title her differently. But when he introduces himself, she sighs out with relief to hear his status. Smiling sincerely, face still red, she replies, "it is…i-it is my pleasure to meet you, Master Philippe." Shyly, she picks up her skirt and curtsies daintily, "my name is…is Rhiannon, though I suspect you shall soon know me by a simpler designation as I begin working at the Blushing Petal. Perhaps Lily. Or Tulip. Or even Rose."

She is far less timid as time wanes on and they reach ever closer to the destined establishment. She perches her gloved hand upon his arm and leans towards the man, listening curiously to his words. Smirking back, she says, "that is very true, Master Bard. After all, neither you nor I is ignorant of the Blushing Petal's owner, and my owner in turn." After a long moment of silent consideration, she finally asks, "if I may inquire…is there anything you could tell me of the Viscountess before I meet her?"

The bard's smile grows ever wider as his conversation partner introduces herself. "Rhiannon. A melodious name. It will almost be a shame to have it shortened. Though, I suspect, the Rose appellation shall be a close enough replacement. You share the rose's refinement and beauty." A slight nod to Rhiannon's hair is all that is needed for Philippe to indicate yet another reason for the Rose name. "I look forward to our continued acquaintance, dear Rose."

As the pair reach the door to the Blushing Petal, the bard pauses, taking a moment to consider the recent question of the Viscountess. "The Viscountess D'Geroux is quite fetching. A rare beauty. Much like your potential namesake the rose. However, much like the rose, one must be wary of the thorns."

Rhiannon brushes a finger through her hair, trying her best to hide a shy smile at the man's duo of compliments, "t-thank you, Master Philippe. It is all I have of my parent's past, a last and singular memento of who they were." She giggles lightly and nods her head, forcing the dreary thoughts from her mind in replacement for such a gentleman's companionship, "Rose it shall be then, my dear Master Philippe. Let us hope the Madame is amenable to such a sobriquet."

Upon at last arriving at the Blushing Petal, she turns to face the bard and listens closely to his words. Her mood faintly sombers at the warning, "as you say, I shall deeply consider caution and discretion when I meet the Viscountess, lest the thorns greet my presence." She glances up and smiles, "thank you, Master Philippe. For the advice, the guidance, and the company." After only a moment's hesitation, she lifts up onto her toes and places a kiss against his cheek, "I do so hope to see you again soon." She settles back down on her heels and breathes out lightly, "now to meet the Madame, and then my ultimate superior. Good night, Master Bard." Her lips gently curve upwards as she pushes into the Blushing Petal, opening the door and entering her new Aequor home.

Philippe offers a short bow. "It has been my pleasure to accompany you, sweet Rose." A hand reaches up, touching the cheek that Rhiannon's lips had graced. "I sincerely wish that our paths cross again. I suspect that they shall, more often than not." As Rhiannon takes her leave, the bard calls out, "Till we meet once more, fair flower." And, with that, the bard turns from the door to the brothel and makes for his own residence, his step a little lighter and a song upon his lips.

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