<div class="floatleft">(http://i1180.photobucket.com/albums/x401/callmecapone/Setting%20and%20RP/c35e5c8d72d34eb82d71873cb47124bf.jpg)</div><strong>Name:  Antonio Cabrello (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13129139#msg13129139)</strong><br/><br/><strong>CLIENT</strong><br/><br/><strong>Situation:</strong>Unable to upstage the current show<br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Semele; The Brawl; Open<br/><br/><strong>Content Warning:</strong><em>None</em><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><hr/><hr/><br/>"A song then! Make it an inviting one.”<br/><br/>Antonio flashed his own whites in a delighted grin. Truth be told his arms were getting a bit tired and his fingers were beginning their recovery from plucking at strings for Grumrump. His job was always best when he was cycling through activities -- including being on a unicycle, if one were available -- though he certainly hoped she was more interested in his other bags of tricks. Grumrump had a tendency to be like a child, requesting the same entertainment repeatedly, clapping and laughing at the same thing over and over. There are times when boredom<em>is</em>a good thing for an entertainer. It's just not right at the start of the performance.<br/><br/>"Until she knows I'm worth every glittering coin," Antonio commented, tossing the purse back to the wolfman who had given it to him. He then popped his hip, the flap to his satchel opening up, and tossed one of the balls into the air for it to land comfortably in its case. As he was tossing the next one in, however, he heard the sudden<em>CRACK!</em>of splintering wood, causing him to jump.<br/><br/>His eyes widened as if staring into the terrifying maw of a dragon, jaws large enough to swallow a man whole and curse him to the confined torture of digestion. Hands grasped as best as he could to catch the balls in the air, but three of the remaining five plummeted to the posh carpeted floor. Immediately he kneeled, his entire body blushing, his heart-beat racing as he retrieved the fallen spheres and stashed them all in his satchel. He closed his eyes a moment, trying to breathe even. This was not a disaster. No doubt the cause of that crash was a distraction for everyone. It was not the end of his performance...<br/><br/>Once he was able to put a smile upon his face again he stood up.<br/><br/>"One does not expect thunder in such a place as this, eh?" he said, beginning to unsling the lute from his back. "Certainly does make me think of a fine tune that is most inviting." Indeed, a song about a man being welcomed back from the rain, made to sound like a wife welcoming her husband from the rain. It ended with a twist, however, as the welcoming woman was in fact a courtesan, in love with the man who was already partnered to another, and so had to leave after every visit to return to a wife with little time for him. So, perhaps not the most inviting of all, but seemed appropriate for the current company.<br/><br/>He struck the first chord and his eyebrow quirked at the odd tone it gave. A sort of...<em>deet</em>... noise mixed into the -- wait, no, there was the<em>deet</em>again, isolated... and quickening... It was coming from...<br/><br/>Antonio turned just in time to see the man pinned by the orc courtesan lift into the air, a sudden burst of wind striking all within the smaller confines of the room. Those closest shielded themselves as splinters and furniture were knocked back and the pair lunged forward from their spot, but Antonio was more distracted by the table leg that had flown from the concussive burst, struck another coffee table, and began whirling through the air like a throwing ax towards his new customer.<br/><br/>The juggler immediately stepped before the woman, ignorant that her wolven guards were already lifting to their feet to do the same. Not that it would have done any good, as the block of pointed wood had already struck before they would have been before her. Antonio lifted his lute to block the oncoming projectile, another shattering crack piercing his ears before knocking him backward. He sprawled onto the woman's lap, the wind knocked out of him for a moment as the world spun about his eyes. The dizzying breathlessness only lasted a few seconds, and out of courtesy he pressed his hands into the bench that sat her, shifting himself from her lap and onto its cushions beside her.<br/><br/>"Apologies, miss," he said with a smile. "It seems I have been upstaged by the local entertainment. However, perhaps I can add a more thrilling tune to accompany the--"<br/><br/>The frozen expression was of shock. Not the same shock as before, however. The sort where you feel laughter rise in your belly because of the absurdity of it all. Grasping the fret in his left hand with the fingers of his right hand hovering over the snapped strings, he looked at the table leg sticking out from the body of his lute. Even if all the strings were intact it would not produce the correct sounds.<br/><br/>"Well," he sighed, still wearing a smile upon his face, "I suppose I owe you an apology, for I shall not be able to serenade you tonight."