diatu | August Catchall

August Catchall

Who: Tenn
Where: Various
When: Throughout August
What: Putting on shows, relaxing at Melody’s, and taking over one the academy’s kitchens to make a very special dish.
Warnings: Probably not, just here to have fun!

Dinner and Show (Open)

A certain restaurant in the city has always enjoyed good business, for its excellent food and stylish décor. And hiring Fantastics wizards from the nearby academy provided them with a steady stream of great entertainment and returning customers. Their latest artist is a particular standout, boasting a striking stage presence and voice.

The boy with the chiming bells on his sleeves, soft robes in orange and pink, takes the stage that evening with his usual delighted smile – one that may surprise those used to seeing him somberly studying. But his talents in Fantastics and Music classes are at peak here, shaping everything from soulful ballads to a cheery folk melody. Between his delicate artistry in the illusions weaving through the room, open and graceful gestures, and honest expressions of gratitude when he’s well-received, it’s not a wonder why his name is becoming a draw itself.

But the best part about these shows is that he doesn't have to stay on stage; Tenn mingles among the diners afterwards, with the air of someone who grew up in such an establishment. His comments range from teasing to gentle: "What brings you here? Surely not me?" "It's been windy outside. Please take care of yourself." "A shower of petals would go well with that, don’t you think? I’ll sing some for you next time."

He’s not surprised to see other students occasionally among the diners, but he might be if he recognizes someone.

An Evening at Melody’s (Semi-locked: open to characters who have learned of the Melody’s location.)

In his efforts to avoid the terrors of last month's swap-a-thon, Tenn found himself spending his evenings in the quiet little inn and theatre known as Melody’s. An out of the way place, much loved by members, rarely spoken of save among colleagues. He’d been under strict orders to avoid such places in Japan; getting caught at a gossip hub could’ve ruined him. But he’s not an idol here. Only a student and a fellow entertainer, and Melody’s does not ask questions, particularly among friends and fellow admirers of the arts.

However you came to Melody's, you’ll find Tenn lounging in a seating area before a currently empty stage, enjoying a glass of fruit juice before the next performance.

Omurice Breakfast (Open)

The previous month had encouraged Tenn to do something he’d put off for far too long – cooking! Salads were good and well, of course, and he was grateful for his odd magical skills, but a particular craving was overtaking him as the summer season reached its peak. The calendar in this world may have been different, but the desire for his birthday treat remained. He didn’t need his mother’s recipe card; he knew his favorite omurice by heart. But making it perfectly, with limited access to ingredients… that was going to be the tricky part.

A morning off from classes finds him invading one of the kitchens, out of his Valhudor uniform in a crisp white apron over creamy tunic and darker trousers. (He fears neither death nor tomato sauce.) A bag of carefully acquired ingredients is placed on the counter, bowls and utensils pulled out, and he studies them with hands on hips and a deep breath. It may take a few tries, but the end result will be worth it.

For those passing by the kitchens that morning, there’s the energetic sizzle of pan over fire, a tempting smell of fried rice and vegetables, and a familiar pale-haired boy tending the stovetop.

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It isn't usual that he'd look into eating at a restaurant this nice, but he had the money and justified it as research into Fantastics. After all, they were said to hire talented performers and he could use the insight.

He didn't expect to see Tenn himself on stage, and Eleven couldn't help but watch, food forgotten. His heart beat to the quicker rhythms and he found himself once again considering dropping the droll of Discovery for the joy and grace of Fantastics. It took some time for his heart to slow and remember himself.

He prodded at his food, debating whether or not to eat it then or save it for later. Maybe he could eat it slowly while trying to pay attention to the more technical aspects of the next performer. He managed this to some extent, but his foot tapped to the rhythm instead, hair swaying as he ate, still partially distracted from either task.

One of the best things about smaller venues was being able to see the faces of his audience so well. In a dark stadium, he was limited; here he could focus in on each person, each reaction. Tenn picked up his friend in the audience with little delay, partly because he sat by himself and partly for the familiar eye contact. Tenn hid his surprise in his performance, simply raising his arms for another spell. The flock of white birds that soared over the audience was a better greeting than the cold chaos Eleven walked into all those months ago, colors now clear and vibrant.

After the show, Tenn doesn’t rush through the room – it’s an idol’s prerogative to give everyone equal attention. But at last he reaches Eleven’s table with a smile, though he casts a curious look to the picked-at dinner. It’s good to know his friend can afford a treat now and then, but he’d like to know the kitchen staff is doing their job.

"Is the food not to your liking? They're very diligent in the kitchens, you know. I'm sure they would make some adjustments if you asked."

Eleven glanced up, then back down to his plate, coloring a bit.

"Oh. No, it's fine. I like it. The performances are just so fascinating that I don't want to miss anything. You were really good up there. I'd never seen you perform before."

Tenn blinks as though surprised, then settles into a smile. It's not the first time he's had that effect on someone, but it wasn’t a reaction he expected from a student who lived on campus and had surely witnessed many of Valhudor’s flash mobs. It's nice to know he's standing out.

His plan is working. He just has to keep up his momentum.

"Thank you." Tenn gives a gracious bow, more for show than social necessity. But the rest of the room awaits, and he does need to finish his work. Tone suddenly amused, Tenn twirls around and casts a glance back over his shoulder. "If you'll excuse me, I'll distract someone else while you finish."

It takes another several minutes to finish his tour of the room. (If Eleven tries to keep track of him, he may witness Tenn illusion-blooming flowers in a vase and Discovering a saltshaker on a table.) His rounds end at the bar where his customary glass of apple juice awaits, and Tenn returns to Eleven's table looking pleased and not a fraction as tired as he feels. Audiences are lovely. So is solitude, but he can spare some time for a friend. Though even sitting down at Eleven’s table, he’s still in Work Mode while in public.

"Thank you for coming tonight. I know the other Fantastics wizards appreciate the support, as well."

Eleven waved him off, then set about putting concerted effort into finishing his meal. Then found himself pleasantly surprised when he returned.

"Really?" He glanced around, like one of them might pop up suddenly. "..Well I'm glad I could help in some way. Talent like theirs deserves it."

Tenn hides an amused smile behind a sip of his glass at the reaction. “The rest have already left. We have responsibilities at the academy too, you know?” Alas, performing didn’t take the place of homework; he knows that all too well. But he's pleased by the acknowledgment.

“I didn’t know you came to the city for entertainment in the evenings.” Tenn lowers his glass and rests his chin on his hand. He’d wondered if between service at the temple and training, Eleven wouldn’t have much time for recreation. “Are there particular performances you come to watch?” Come to think of it, he'd never learned what Eleven's personal preferences were in the arts.

He colors. "I don't- or, I don't usually have the money, but I heard the music when someone opened the door and thought it would be nice to do it once, now that I have a little to spare. That was all, really."

Eleven fidgets a bit, eyes flickering between Tenn and the table. "..Do you often perform here?"

Tenn's expression doesn't change, but he leans back, sitting upright to signal less familiarity. If Eleven isn’t used to this kind of environment, perhaps it’s overwhelming. Tenn is becoming a celebrity again; he forgets that sometimes after being just a student. That energy and forwardness can be uncomfortable.

Briskly, Tenn shifts the attention off Eleven and onto himself. "No, not every night. I only recently took this job." Looking around, the interior is a step above the taverns he started in, and quieter, too. "They have an excellent reputation in Valhudor. And I wanted to experience this kind of venue again."

His voice drops a little, regarding the low platform at the end of the room. "My parents owned a place like this when I was growing up. Where the stage was close to the audience. I liked watching the performers interact with everyone, so I wanted to try it myself."

Eleven brightens and props his chin up.

"That's how you became a performer? That's wonderful." He doesn't have any dreams whatsoever of getting on a stage and performing, but it's nice to think about for someone else. To understand just how they came into their own path.

"Are you well known in your world, then?"

"Yes. We... my group hadn't been performing long, but we were popular in our country." And if he is honest with himself, has made performing as a soloist difficult. Much as he enjoyed the freedom to coordinate the aspects of his acts by himself, he could feel an absence of energy every time he stepped onto stage.

Tenn takes a sip of his glass. "In comparison, getting known here has been easier. There is less competition, and the academy prepares one for succeeding in the industry well."

One can only wonder how the larger-than-life Valhudor is 'less competition'.

Knowing nothing about how competitive gathering fame could be, Eleven simply nodded.

"I'm glad you're doing well," he said earnestly. "I hope I can see more of your performances. They almost make me want to take Fantastics."

After their initial meeting, Fluttershy and Tenn had spoken on occasion regarding her stage fright, and he had given her the address to Melody's for a place they could practice.

Finally finding the location, Fluttershy found herself feeling a bit nervous, even though she wasn't sure if they were doing anything yet. Still, she had to take a deep breath before carefully pushing the door open and peeking inside.

The arrival of an unknown face caused a noticeable stir in the atmosphere, enough to catch Tenn’s interest. Casting a subtle glance over his shoulder, he recognized the vibrant pink hair and stood up immediately. New faces could be a subject of suspicion. But those personally invited were a different story. And that is what Tenn conveyed with his welcoming smile and calm tone as he moved to the entrance to greet her.

"Good evening. You have good timing. The shows will be starting soon."

Unaware of the attention she'd garnered, she relaxed nonetheless when Tenn approached, giving him a small smile.

"Oh really? I'm glad I was able to get here in time."

Tenn was relieved to see she was relaxed. Perhaps he was right in guessing that Diatu’s students were part of the problem. Well, that's why they were here. Because Melody's didn't distinguish between Valhudor and Eiather. The diversity of the theater was in their favor.

Tables and chairs circled the stage, and Tenn studied the layout a moment before guiding Fluttershy to a seating area in the second row. If he put her too far back, she might use the distance to disappear. Too close and the stage would be looming over her. Now they’d have a good view and be in the center of the discussions. This was perfect.

Settled, Tenn relaxed with chin on one hand. "Do you want something before it starts? They have nonalcoholic beverages, if you'd like."

She followed him and took a seat. It was certainly a good spot, easy to see without being too close to the stage.

"Something to drink might be nice. What kind of drinks do they have?"

"It’s mostly the same selection offered at the other inns and taverns in the area, though they are willing to mix custom drinks if you want something specific." Tenn swirled his own glass, a warm amber color smelling of fresh apples. "I usually order juice, sometimes with ginger or honey."

She picked up the aroma of his drink, and she had to say it was tempting. "That does sound really good. I might get some apple cider if they have some."

Tenn raised his head with a gleam in his eyes. “Cider. I’ll ask if they have a nonalcoholic version. Wait here.”

Spotting familiar wait staff near the bar, Tenn slipped off to weave through the tables. An audience had begun to gather, and as Tenn had assured, they were indeed from many walks of life. Melody’s attracted quite a mélange, but the conversations remained fixed on the arts and relaxed as among those who knew each other.

Returning to their table, Tenn resumed his seat with a satisfied air. “They don’t seem to have it, but I asked for something similar.” He cast a glance around at the filling tables, then back to her. “Did you have any questions?” He'd covered the basics with her earlier: that there would be performances and open discussion afterwards.

While he had been gone, she had a chance to look around at the rest of the gathering audience. There did seem to be different kinds of people, but it was still a cozy and calm setting that it was easy to relax.

When he returned and let her know about the drink, she smiled and nodded. "Thank you. I hope it won't be too much trouble for them."

Then she hesitated a moment, thinking. "Who will all be performing tonight?" She knew that they were meeting to help her own stage fright, but she certainly hoped she wasn't expected to jump on stage immediately.

The concern for the staff coaxed a genuine smile to his lips. "Don’t worry. They’re used to me asking for apple-based drinks, and this is part of Melody's service."

Yet the second question earned a moment of silence. He wanted her to be at ease, but there’d be no point if everything were predicable. "Does it matter? Isn't it fun to be surprised now and again?"

Considering that for a moment, she then nodded. "I guess that's true. It is nice to have surprises sometimes."

Tenn leaned his arms on the tabletop. It's a special kind of excitement to sit in expectation of a surprise.

"That’s right. Focus on being a member of the audience tonight. The performers will be bringing the routines they’ve worked hard on, just like you when writing songs, and they'll strive to convey their visions to the audience. It's your role to receive their feelings."

"Oh, I see," she said with another nod. After all, it was just as important to know how to receive the feelings of someone as it was to put those feelings out there in the first place.

Tenn paused to return a thanks as two tall glasses arrived, both a rich, creamy amber and brimming with the warm scent of apples. (Apparently, he couldn't resist either.)

Stirring the beverage, he continued. "As the audience receives those feelings, everyone will form their own opinion. You'll see many different reactions tonight to each performance."

Some would call that frightening. Even to him, it still was sometimes. The energy of the audience affected them so much. But what was the point of performing if they didn’t listen to those responses?

Tenn studied her. "We'll want to hear what you think, too."

She nodded again, though seemed a bit less sure about this part. While she understood that music and performances could be subjective, it was audience reaction that usually frightened her. And the last thing she wanted to do was misinterpret someone's feelings.

The silence told Tenn he was on the right track. He lowered his voice; the lights were dimming and the crowd voices dwindling.

"Why do you think people perform here instead of for their families and friends? They aren’t here just for praise. An honest opinion has great worth to the person seeking it."

He pushed her glass closer to her. "Tonight, you're trying something new. Don't be afraid of it. And if you are, still resolve to give it your all. You don't want to disappoint anyone, but that means not disappointing yourself. You came because you wanted to overcome your fear. Don’t you?"

Carefully taking the glass, she glanced up at him. Then she nodded.

"Yes," she replied softly. Because it really would be nice not having to fear when she wanted to sing. "I'll...do my best."

Louie had headed for the particular kitchen to try and sweet-talk his way into some free food for a company meeting he wanted to hold. He was pretty sure Orisa didn't need to eat, but he did. However, when he found it occupied instead by one of his classmates, instead, he almost just shrugged it off and left... But that smell...

"Dude, what are you making?"

Edited 2019-08-23 21:11 (UTC)

There’s a moment of confusion as Tenn glances right and left before turning and looking down. Then his surprise turns to a smile. It’s morning, he’s tired, but there’s always time for kids. "Louie, good morning."

Tenn returns to giving the pan another vigorous stirring. "Omurice. It’s fried rice wrapped in an egg, like an omelette. It’s a popular dish where I’m from."

"Morning." Louie nodded, smiling as well. No wonder the smell was mouth-watering, that sounded delicious. "Well, it smells great. But it sure looks like you made a lot," he went on - he had no idea how many people Tenn was making the dish for, nor had he even really looked closely to see if the statement had merit. "I could take some to a meeting for my company, if you want something to do with the extra."

There were indeed a lot of ingredients on the table, though the pan Tenn was using did not suggest he was prepared to feed more than himself. Tenn's expression echoes that, laced with sudden confusion then dawning understanding.

"I think you misunderstood. I'm making breakfast for myself. Not the whole dorm." But he gets the confusion since he's been dealing out salads liberally whenever the kitchens were closed.

"Oh." Shoot, he'd been hoping that would get him some - in part because of Tenn giving out all those salads. He scuffs a foot against the floor. "So you said it's a common dish where you're from... Where's that?"

Ah, sorry to disappoint, Louie. Still stirring the fried rice, Tenn mulls over his answer, calling to mind the posts on the BBS earlier in the year when the Sundered had compared homelands.

"Japan, on Earth. Though not the same as the one you're from." Lack of talking animals for one. "It was 2016 when I left, in the summer. I had just returned to Tokyo after the Summer Island Music Festival." He casts a curious glance down to Louie, wondering if those names will mean anything.

"Japan. I've been to some of Asia, but not Japan specifically." He's pretty sure they were in China with Cousin Gladstone, but he really hadn't been paying attention during the flight - he'd been too excited to see the guy.

He also takes a moment to mentally note that Tenn is from roughly a year in the relative past from Louie's own world - and that's far from the only discrepancy he's noticed in that area among the Sundered. He's not sure if that's important to all this Sundering stuff, but it could be.

"Summer Island Music Festival, huh? Sounds kinda cool. Were you performing?"

So, they have an Asia and Japan, too? How much do they resemble his own, he wonders.

"Yes, I was. With my group and a few others." And that smile unconsciously growing on his face says it was definitely 'cool'. "It's a new event, because they just finished building the beach resort. Several artists were invited to perform. My brother was there, too."

"Oh, I kind of just assumed you were a solo act," Louie admitted with a shrug. "Anyway, you and your brother are in different acts? Huh." His first instinct is to say that that's weird, because he's used to being part of a sibling unit. But when he gives it some thought, it actually sounds nice. So instead of saying it's strange, he asks, "Do you guys get competitive?"

"Of course." Tenn replies with confidence in both the ardor of those competitions and his ability to win. Admittedly, at Louie's age, Tenn couldn't have imagined not being in the same unit. Though now, having experienced both competing against Riku and singing beside him, is it odd that he prefers their friendly rivalry? Or perhaps it's just too strange to imagine getting on stage without Ryuu and Gaku standing on either side of him. His hand tightens on the handle of the spatula; performing as a soloist, it still feels as though something is missing.

He dismisses that with a swift change of topic. "You said you had a business meeting, right? Are your brothers involved as well?"

Louie notices the quick shift in topic, but doesn't bother giving it much thought. He really likes talking about his company, after all, and it's... Safer. People usually change the subject to avoid emotional discussion - he sure does - and he's not the best at those, or the most comfortable with them.

"Mmhm, but Huey and Dewey aren't part of it. I worked with Huey back home a bit, and our friend Webby - she's here, too - but... Heh, never Dewey. Dewey would be an awful employee. Anyway, here it's me, Orisa, and Lena, now."

Considering his prior experience with Dewey involved watching him make a pact with a demon, that does not surprise in the least. Lena was obstinate but cautious; something he can appreciate if she’s watching over these adventurous brothers.

“Then I take it the delivery service is going well?” Tenn inquires politely, though his attention is on the frying pan in his hands. Done. That was the easy part. He turns down the heat, placing the pan to one side of the stove to stay warm while he retrieves a bowl and wire whisk.

"Oh, yeah," Louie responds, having largely forgotten about the food - though not entirely, because the delicious aroma makes that impossible. "Things are going great, we're making a lot of money."

Which is the only way Louie really knows how to measure business success, and to be fair, that's not a bad measurement, but the finer points are certainly lost on him.

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August Catchall

Dinner and show

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An Evening at Melody’s

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Omurice Breakfast

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