2024-12-06 - Anyway, Here's Wonderwall

The Bard's Balcony-- a place with finest drinks and the finest live music. If you're into LARPing.

Ty's in full regalia. He's wearing his royal purple and navy costume which consists of a well-tailored brocade jacket, poofy pantaloons, tights, knee-high boots, and a feathered cap that sits jauntily on his moppy head. He's seated on a stool atop the small stage in one corner of the restaurant, plucking away at his lute.

"Cause maaaaaaybeeeeeeee. You're gonna be the one that saaaaaaaves meeeeeeeee."

He's playing to a whopping midday crowd of four people who are definitely paying more attention to their drinks than to him.

Make that five people.

Laney slips into the 'elven taphouse' - really slips in, keeping to the edge of the room along the wall. She's not outfitted to theme, dressed in a high-waisted pencil skirt, low heels, and a white blouse with a pink tie that's a couple shades darker than her hair. Carrying a clipboard she's very clearly here On Business, but when she clocks who's serving as today's entertainment she stops to watch and listen with a faint smirk.

Ty walks this way and that, making eye contact with whoever doesn't look away in shame. His fingers deftly pluck at the strings, making Oasis come to life in the most anachronistic way.

"And afterrrrrr alllllllllllllllll, you're my wonderwaaaaaaaaaaallll." His voice is really suited for this register and with the amount of swagger he's putting into it, it's no wonder his tip jar is always full. Somewhere in his crooning he seems to spot the pink hair, then the pink tie. There's a smile sent her way.

Once he's done with his song, he gives the lute a strummy flourish and takes a big bow to minimal applause.

And now? He's on break.

Should it be offered, Laney will absolutely make eye contact, and hold it as long as possible.

And she applauds, too. Well. Smacks her hand against her clipboard. That counts, surely.

Still sticking to the fringes of the room, she skirts the omg-four-person-crowd to get closer to the stage. "Nice tights."

Oh yes, it totally counts.

"Enjoy thou meals and be sure to tipeth thy waitresses," Ty addresses the crowd in a terrible Old English accent. Like SO bad. Like making up words on the spot. He's quick to hang up his ornate lute on its stand and hop off the stage towards Laney.

"Aww shucks, I bet you say that to all the bards," he grins. Thankfully he's dropped the accent by now.

"No, just you." And lest Ty think this a sincere, flattering moment Laney adds, "I don't know any of the other bards. Anyway. Technically it's a compliment to costuming."

A pen sits behind her ear. Presumably for the clipboard. "I didn't know you got to sing Ye Olde Oasis though. Are you off for a bit? Or is Mine Milkshake Brings All the Thanes to the Yard next?"

Somehow, Ty assumed there would be a part two to the "compliment", seeing as Laney is 100% that person who throws coasters at the back of one's head. His grin just stretches wider. "I'll let them know that you appreciate brocade."

He nods a little, then snorts out a laugh. "Actually I can play that song. I have played that song. There was a bachelorette thing-- nevermind. Yeah I'm on break, can I buy you an ale?" It's beer but they definitely call everything ale or mead in these parts.

Laney's shoulders twitch a little straighter. "I do appreciate brocade." And either that's true or she's really leaning in to the bit, because the lingering look she gives his jacket is definitely admiring.

Just like the look she then slides to the bar is longing. She sighs. "I shouldn't," she says with great regret. "I'm technically on the clock." She taps her clipboard with a clack clack of a metallic gold nail. "Want to go bug vendors with me? Or do you have to stay in the building?"

Ty gives his shoulders a little side to side shimmy, showing off the brocade. But he's quick to note the pen and the clipboard and puts two and two together. "Oh, whoops. Good point." He then looks over at his lute before turning back to Laney. "I'm on my hour lunch but I had a big breakfast. Which vendors are we bugging?"

"You sure? I don't want to be the reason you like, waste away." Laney gestures up and down with the clipboard. "Or be the reason you faint on stage. That'd be embarrassing."

Full of support, this one.

"Right around New Year they're doing a thing where some of the food vendors can offer an exclusive food item. I have to go around and confirm who's participating, and what they're offering." She glances down to her list. "And make a note if something they're offering is going to suck, so I can pass it up the flagpole." She flashes Ty a quick grin. "Maybe if we're cute they'll feed us too."

"Worst case scenario, I have like a granola bar in my locker. I will survive. The bard's job is to endure, Laney. The show WILL go on!" Now Ty's just being dramatic for giggles.

He pulls off his little feathered cap since there's no way he won't lose that on the way to visit vendors and places it on his lute. "Ooh that's fun! The exclusive item reveal. Do I need to sign an NDA or anything?" His hair is now twice as fluffy and no amount of patting it seems to be bringing it down. Still, he's ready to follow her. "Psh. Have you seen these tights? We better get free food. Your clipboard is scary though, you might wanna lower it if you don't wanna trigger us worker bees."

"Is it?" Laney isn't sold. "I thought the bard's job was to make merry, and maybe sleep with the queen. Or is that jesters?" She's not up on her Ren faire lore.

"No. I mean. You can if you want to? They'll be published. There'll be a whole pamphlet, which I am not designing." She doesn't comment on his hair, not really, but there's a glance and an amused look.

Right before they exit she swivels partway on her heel to waggle her clipboard at Ty and tell him, very seriously, "If this is gonna scare you, you're gonna have a lot of trouble in life."

Outside the sun's bright, even if it's chilly, and they head toward the winding paths of the Fairgrounds. "Have you considered facing your fears? The office has some extras; I could loan you one if you like."

"Sleep with the queen? In THIS economy?" Ty cracks a grin. "Yeah no that's definitely the jester. Queens love a comedian." Which queens could he be referring to?

"Oh yeah I'm sure they have a team for that." Designing pamphlets. He follows after her but stops short when she swivels, then flinches overtly at the waggle of her clipboard. "Oh god I just got flashbacks to resume writing!" He lets out a hissy little laugh and continues walking. "No. The corporate life ain't for me. You couldn't tell with the tights?"

"You're very into your own tights, did you know that? But even without them," Ty's floof-hair gets another glance, "the hat with the feather gave it away. What did you do before here? I don't know much call for bards in the real world." Because this park is most definitely not the 'real world'.

Her brisk pace slows a little on the cobblestone. Heels are a bitch. "Not gonna lie," as they're passed by a woman in a fairly standard 'tavern wench' outfit, "the costuming is pretty incredible. Wardrobe must be insane. Did you get to choose yours or was it assigned?"

"It's like...who even am I without them?" Ty's just doubling down now with a wide grin. "They're my whole identity." But as for what he did before here, he gives her a little one-armed shrug. "You'd be surprised. Though I was mostly a freelancer in orchestras and bands used for mall Christmas shows, community theater, and middle school ballet recitals. It paid the bills, okay?"

He slows down as she does, keeping in stride. "Insane," he agrees. "We have some of the world's best costumers I hear. It was assigned but I have the option to pick another color soon. I guess it's no fun to look exactly the same forever? I'm thinking GREEN? You just get to wear biz casual right?"

Laney lifts her hands - well, one hand and a clipboard - in a 'don't shoot' gesture. "I'm not judging! Well. I'm totally judging your attachment to your tights. It's important to have a sense of identity outside your work. And your clothes." She does her best to try and hold eye contact - or at least look him seriously in the face - while not running into anything. "Who is Ty? Who is he without his form-fitting pants?"

It's visible, the consideration of rephrasing and the decision to leave it as is.

"World's best seems... a lot." Laney's not buying it. "Green would work with your coloring. So would red. But don't combo them or you'll look like Christmas threw up." She glances down at her own outfit. "Pretty much. It's kind of whatever."

Aaaah the clipboard! Ty sticks to the bit and flinches again like she's gonna hit him with adulthood. "I don't have a work-life balance, Laney, I live where I work!" Okay but that's kinda true though? He also maintains eye contact but it's easier for him since most people can see the brocade a mile away and give him a wide berth. "Your guess is as good as mine. Who are any of us?" Ty also caught that phrasing by the look of his smirk but he's too nice to call her out on it.

"That's what they said in orientation but okay. Maybe just movie or Broadway grade?" He waves away the idea of Christmas colors. "Yeah, no. Just like all jewel tones or whatever. So you don't even get a vest or anything? Do you even actually work here?"

Laney tsks with a last waggle of her clipboard - okay, she's done for real, now tucking it under one arm. "And do you always believe what people tell you? And unless you sleep under the bar, that's not strictly true. And if you do sleep under the bar..." She bares her teeth in a quick grin, "We need to have parties at your place more often."

When Ty calls out her employment status she stops dead in the middle of the path. Sorry people, you'll have to walk around her while she jams a hand down her collar - loosening her tie to do so - and fishes out a lanyard trapped within. Triumphant, she holds out the ID card at the end. The Laney in the picture appears to be caught mid-grimace. "Boom. Employee. Okay, should we talk to the sausage guy first or the gelato guy? Sorry, the ices guy." Because that's the only way to make gelato Ren-faire appropriate.

"I mean, during orientation, sure. I do tend to believe what those people tell me." Ty rolls his eyes playfully and gestures back to the tavern. "Imagine that. I mean both. Nonstop parties amongst the cardboard beer coasters. But also...sleeping on a pile of beer coasters. My back would give out in a second."

Laney's immediate stop doesn't quite register for a second and he actually walks forward two more steps before stopping to look back at her. Out comes the ID card. He breaks out into a grin and makes a gesture of surrender with both hands held aloft. "Okay! You got me. Nice pic." As for who to go to first, he squints over at the vendors. "Uhhh...ices guy? So I can get a sample...for like. You know. Science."

"But you could live off of olives and those really sweet cherries," Laney describes a life of dubious breath and dental problems. "And... lime wedges, I guess? At least you wouldn't get scurvy."

She rolls her eyes - she knows the picture is terrible - and lets the ID card hang free, not bothering to stuff it back inside her shirt. The Spellbound branded lanyard clashes nicely with her tie. "For science. Right."

Time to march up to the ices stand, clipboard held in front of her with an officious air. "Hello!" The elderly woman manning the stall looks old enough to have been around for the conception of gelato as a dessert item. "I'm from the Events Department. You signed up for the Snowflake Fest and I wanted to confirm what special offering you'll have."

The woman, whose name tag reads 'Estelle' squints and waves her scoop at the tubs in front of her. "What flavor?"

"Okay but for real I could though," Ty says quickly off of living on cherries and olives. "Specifically the cherries. I can eat like a whole jar of them and still want more.

But he's ready to look like he's part of her entourage even though his outfit gives away that he's just the opposite-- a character performer out on break. He looks between Estelle and Laney, then stifles a laugh behind his hand.

"I, uh, don't think she heard you. Maybe you should flash your ID badge," he stage whispers right behind Laney's ear.

Maybe Estelle's eyes are going and Ty's bright clothes are easier to see. Or maybe she scorns bureaucracy. Either way, she ignores Laney taking a pointed breath to repeat herself and fixes her attention on Ty. "You," she insists. "What flavor do you want? But first," her wrinkled mouth stretches in a smug smile, "you have to sing for me." She knows what that costume means!

Laney, who was getting ready to interrupt and steer them Back to Business, pauses and grins at the bard. "You heard the lady."

"Straccia--" Ty starts to say the gelato he wants but then gets interrupted by a request. He blinks at her, then at Laney. "Have you never been up to the Balcony? All I do is sing all day. And I have a lute there. Way better." But at the same time, this isn't nearly surprising given that people often shout PLAY WONDERWALL at him hence why he was singing it earlier.

Laney's smile gets a little shake of his head then he shrugs. "Sure. Anything you want in particular?"

Estelle narrows her dark eyes. "Do I look like I get up to the Balcony? You think my grandkids show up to man the stall so I can have a mead and enjoy a show?"

The correct answer, says Estelle's tone, is no.

She knocks the gelato scoop against the inside lip of her counter for emphasis. "No. I want a song, and you can have your treat, and maybe I'll help this one with her festival."

Laney shifts her weight to her other foot. "I don't need your help, I just need - "

Clunk goes that scoop. "What do you know by Taylor?" And in case Ty's been asleep for the past decade or so the old woman clarifies, "That's Miss Taylor Swift."

"I dunno, union break?" Ty offers with a lopsided smile. He's trying.

But as for Laney not needing help-- wrong. That gets a smug grin on his face. Why? Because he's about to SAVE HER whether she wants him to or not.

"Like all her catalogue. You're not the first Swiftie out in these parts." He gives Estelle a cheeky wink, then clears his throat. It's not the same without a lute but he can do a little a cappella.

"I have this thing where I get older but just never wiser. Midnights become my afternoons. When my depression works the graveyard shift all of the people I've ghosted stand there in the room..." Ty's not singing loud enough to draw a crowd but it's at a volume where they can both hear the sweet croon of his well paid tenor.

Good thing Ty starts singing, because probably Estelle has a lot to say about unions.

The old woman begins to nod her head in time to the music, her pleased smile deepening the wrinkles across her face. She's super into it. So much so that... is she going to sing?

She is. And surprise, surprise (Laney's definitely looking shocked), she's quite good! Her voice is rusted with age, but there's definite talent and quality there.

"Damn!" Laney expresses her appreciation, and Estelle will wait until the song's concluded to tell her severely, "Language!"

Oh hey a duet! Ty's all for duets-- the more, the merrier! He adjusts his key to harmonize better with hers since there's no reason to drown her out when it feels like she's just wanted someone to jam with this whole time.

They get through the whole thing and of course by the end they've gathered a small crowd. Curse this bright purple outfit. Ty does a few polite rolls of his hand to the audience, as he does onstage after a performance, then lightly tells them to shoo with a flick of his wrist.

"There you go. Stracciatella me, please." Yes, he still wants his damn ice cream.

There's no escaping that one self-important guy who thinks it's clever to flip a coin in Ty's direction, as if a quarter can buy him anything more than a bouncy ball these days (if that). "Huzzah," he declares, because someone told him that's the thing to say, before moving along.

Laney shoots the guy the stink eye while Estelle heaps a tiny plastic cup with the chocolate-speckled gelato. "Well done! You know, you look a little like my late husband. You're a very talented young man." The ice cream piles a good two inches above the cup's rim when she holds it out to Ty. "You can come sing to me any time." So generous. "Now, what is it you want from me?"

Laney goes over her mission - festival, special thing, etc - and Estelle grumbles, "Always have to have a gimmick. Alright, alright. We'll have hot chocolate gelato. It's just chocolate, and we put some marshmallows on top." Laney shoots Ty a look of mingled exasperation and loss of the will to live. "The kids love it."

If Ty had a quarter for every Witcher reference-- oh wait, he DOES. He snags this one and immediately pockets it. It's his now. The tax for hearing that nonstop. "Huzzah." Repeated right back.

"Thank you, you're too kind," he tells Estelle genuinely. Big brown eyes go wide as he reaches gingerly for the treat which is now a whole meal. "Oh wow, thank you. It's too much. Really." Don't mind him as he starts to devour it, too much or not.

"Mhm! The marshmallows are the best part!" Ty also loves it.

"Nonsense." Estelle is thrilled. "You're too skinny." Ty is her new favorite person.

"Okay," Laney raises her voice to carry over this new love affair, "thank you for your help. I'll have you down for hot chocolate gelato." She makes a show of recording this on her clipboard. (Well, the paper on the clipboard.) "Thanks!" Estelle looks ready to start on something else so Laney grabs for Ty's elbow to give him a tug in the direction of 'away'.

"Well that was insane. C'mon." She gestures for him to follow, nodding at another stall down the way. "Let's go see the pickle guy. You can pretend you're pregnant."

And now Estelle is Ty's favorite person! He's prepared to ask about her interest in Taylor when Laney tugs him off to the next vendor. "Thank you! Bye! Have a good day!"

Don't worry Laney, you only have to deal with so many more long-suffering vendors and a bard who's about to embark on a sugar induced manic episode. "I don't think he's gonna fall for it," he tells Laney seriously.

And so goes the legend of how Laney got the pickle guy's, the pretzel lady's, and the pizza on a stick dude's special item for the festival. Ty only had to do minimal singing from here on out but when the sugar rush hits, no one can save Laney from a spirited rendition of We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together. That's what happens when you choose the bard as a wingman.