07.13b: Wandering the Desserts

[kitsunenotsume]

"Good evening, Lady Sybaris", Caelund begins, accompanied by a precise bow while maintaining his platter perfectly level. "While you've a grand selection of options from which to procure delicacies, perhaps I might pique your interest in one of our* specials for tonight."

As he talks, the grey garbed man rotates the lid** of the serving-tray to reveal a set of plated pastries - each branching confection wrapped in a perfectly browned sheaf of filo and suffused with a sweet aroma of cinnamon and ginger. In the center of the tray is a stoppered crystal decanter filled with a clear honey-coloured liquid.
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*: Given the difference in attire, he is not suggesting to be part of the wait-staff, but neither is he using the majestic plurality.
**: The motion is rather apparent not to be an offering, but rather a presentation of the mentioned goods.

[Wyvern]

Alys raises an eyebrow. "Our?"*

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* While this does not serve to immediately answer the question, a sufficiently bold individual might choose to assume that asking a question does, in fact, indicate piqued interest. Though, perhaps not necessarily in the pastries...

(OOC aside: We discussed Caelund's approach out of character, and came to the conclusion that Alys is currently willing to demonstrate greater warfare than Caelund is, which is why she is not responding with some combination of surprise and pointy objects.)

[kitsunenotsume]

"Most certainly," the man confirms without missing a beat. "The dainties are the product of an associate whose business I espouse. The Gingerfire Patisserie is independently owned and operated, and as a result lacks the passive customer-outreach network of the larger organisation*. My associate manages the enterprise itself, whilst I assist with visibility and public-relations when my other endeavors permit. Hence I stand before you as the representative of a group larger than simply myself. Ergo, 'our', m'lady."
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*: not to say there is only one larger organisation, simply singling out the primary one.

[Wyvern]

Alys tilts her head, "And so here you are, reaching out to potential customers. Starting, I see, with those most capable of dealing with the potential drawbacks of, as you put it, independent ownership. Not that I expect you* have had overly much trouble with that..."

She tilts her head the other way, thoughtfully, and then nods. "Very well. I will try one of your 'specials', on one minor condition: I would know who I am speaking to."

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* There's a subtle emphasis on the word 'you', as if to imply that other people trying to run a truly independent business might well find such troubles overwhelming, but that Alys clearly expects better of Caelund.

[kitsunenotsume]

He offers a slight nod in thanks for the compliment, and removes the stopper from the decanter. "Most appreciated, Lady Sybaris, and I would find such an exchange would be most acceptable." With a twist of the wrist, the liqueur is drizzled across one of the dishes as he continues. "I've borne a number of identifiers through the realms, though the most appropriate at this pole would be Caelund Arctix."

He places the decanter back on the plate, and snaps his fingers over the plated pastry. The fine material of the gloves makes a small spark, and the sweet is wreathed in soft flames as the sauce begins to crystallize. Caelund slides the dish of the platter and holds it out for Alys, permitting the full and complex bouquet of aromas to meld from atop the rhizome-shaped delicacy.

"Does that resolve your inquiry, M'lady?"

[Wyvern]

Alys accepts the proffered plate, picks up the pastry (still on fire), and takes a bite of it, savoring the flavor for a few moments before answering. "I believe it does address the question I asked."* She nods politely, and then turns towards the rest of the snacks, apparently done with this conversation.

She does, however, finish off the (still burning) pastry, and neatly deposits the plate on the table Caelund set up - before ignoring that table and moving on to try various offerings from the official catering.

After a bit of this, she moves off to the parcheesi tables.

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* And, assuming at least mid-ranked psyche, this would be the point where Caelund realizes that he said something wrong** - although exactly what is probably not clear.
** By 'wrong', we mean 'subject to subtle misinterpretation' - Alys is reading more into the exact words and phrasing than was actually there. Oops?

[kitsunenotsume]

As she leaves, Caelund closes the lid of the tray with a thoughtful and not-at-all-disappointed expression, before returning to his table once more. After a brief opportunity to replace any missing pastries from his small corner of the tables, the platter is tucked away and the man seeks out Breaca. Upon locating her (presumably somewhere near the snack area), he begins his introduction with a brief bow.

"Good evening, Miss Keigwin. I apologize for the intrusion, but I would like to like to ask if you have any issues with my occupation of the space at the end of the table. I was offered an invitation from Lord Lydre just this afternoon, and -in my haste not to arrive empty-handed- failed to properly notify the staff as to my intention." The delivery is sincere, before being followed by a thoughtful comment. "Though, it appears that Lord Lydre also failed to notify the staff as to my invitation, which likely failed to assist the matter."

[misfit]

Breaca will look Caelund up and down scowling. "Lord Lydre is it now? Bah! I should have known. Only he would think he could decide what would be on my table. Do you think Harrune would do that? Not even Ossian has the brass for that. I'll have to have a little chat with Lord Lydre about this."

"Well you're here now. So who are you and what have you brought this evening?"

OOC: I'm handling this for Joshua since I created the character...such as she is.

[kitsunenotsume]

The man looks ever so slightly relieved at the rather blunt and straight-forward mannerisms, but an edge of uneasy nervousness remains rather prevalent*. "Aah, right. Sorry, forgot about. . . oh, bugger." He takes a bit of a breath to calm his flustering, perhaps from his most recent discussion, his conversation evening out as he continues talking.

"Anyhow, I'm Caelund Arctix. Work part-time at a small bakery - maybe you've heard of it, the Gingerfire Patisserie, down in the trade ward? My manager gave me some sampler assortments, and a box of our house specials - which are somewhat akin to a ginger baklava, but with our own touch. He had suggested we needed a bit of visibility, since our current income is rather erratic."
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*: He appears to be rather novice to the entire matter of fancy court politics, with his encounter with Alys earlier being a flare of bravado. However, an observer of mid-rank psyche (or a particularly suspicious low-rank) may well have reasons to suspect otherwise.

[misfit]

"Gingerfire Patisserie, eh? Can't say I've heard of it, but I don't get into the city often except to shop for ingredients. Well, let's give one a try."

As per an out of character conversation, Caelund offers her one of the specials. For a recap of that, see this.

Breaca takes the pastry and gently blows out the flames. She eyes it cautiously and carefully sniffs at it. Her eyebrow raises every so slightly. When see takes a small bite a surprised and pleased look crosses her face very briefly, but then her scowl comes back (Amber level psyche will clearly see that the scowl is an act).

"Hmmph! Well, I suppose it won't do any harm to let them stay since you went to all that trouble to bring them here. This still doesn't let Lord Lydre off the hook, but you meant well and you did have someone's permission."

She drops the volume so only Caelund can hear. "And just who made these? And where can I find this shop of yours? I think we need to have a bit of chat.* And as for you Caelund Arctix, you're welcome to come visit any time you wish."

*Subtext: We need to compare recipes.