Persnickety and Newsworthy [PRIVATE]

[tacobob]

"That is a shame.", the mare shook her head, "But all is not lost, you could always attend weekend work-groups for those ponies who already have a job,but are looking into getting into acting. You could also volunteer to help out smaller theaters, get your hoof in the door so to speak.", she took a sip from her glass and rolled her eyes when she was asked once again about the play she had just seen, "Oddly enough, it was not the worst version of 'Death' that I have seen this year, but it was still dreadful, absolutely dreadful!", Vainglorious groaned, "Those silly ponies we all saw lounging about stage probably should have considered acting while there instead of boring us all while they droned out their lines. I was almost sure the foal playing 'Uncle Ben' was in fact diseased as he stood up there barely moving. I'm sure he did blink. And I'm almost sure the two mares that played Forsythe and Letta were actual call-ponies the director was able to corral off the streets! Still, the music was nice, and it was loud, which kept me from falling asleep. So...What did you think of it? If you were the director, what would you have done differently?"

The unicorn watched Vainglorious with a smirk on his face, "You're a much braver pony than I.", he smiled weakly at Clef, "Even with my family's connections, I generally avoid the snooty type restaurants or bars. In Canterlot, I generally stick to the pubs and dives in the 'Commons'. These places.", he glanced around, "Nopony ever seems to be honestly having a good time. I've seen happier faces at funerals. You go to places like the 'The Prancing Pony' in Fillydelphia or 'Dew Drop Inn' over in Appleloosa and you know there's going to be a good time to be held by all. I'm just here for her. Some old friends set me up with her the other day.", he quickly let out a dramatic sigh, "The things we do for love.."

[Partheus]

Clef was aghast. Wait, he thought, LOVE?! As in, this seemingly ordinary guy, who couldn't be pretentious even if you stuck a beret on his head and called him Andy Whinnyhol, is in love with HER?! Before he began to indulge in his rage, he paused to reflect on the situation. I guess I can't really judge them, though. A pony can love whoever he wants, and it'd be wrong of me to tell him he can't be with her. His lips curled again at the thought of Vainglorious. But, that doesn't mean I have to like her! She's an intolerably hoity-toity mare who's about five or six years overdue for a good slap across the muzzle! Gah! I've got to stop thinking about her. Think of something else, quick! Curiously enough, like a moth to flame, his mind drew back to Persnickety.

As I thought. She's no worse off than me, and by the sounds of things, her parents aren't exactly strapped for cash either. Interesting that she went to Cloudsdale to study drama, though. I'd hate to judge an entire city, but Cloudsdale doesn't strike me as the sort of people to care that much about the more intellectual things in life. I always thought they were all sports enthusiasts, like that one girl with the rainbow mane who's constantly showing off to her friends. Ugh, simpletons... No, that's unfair. There is a lot more to sport than most ponies think, and it does take some smarts to do well. No need to stoop to their level, Clef... He glanced once more at Vainglorious, slowly becoming the bane of his existence with each eyeful of the detached and uncaring expression hidden behind her insincere half-smile.

[Twimsy]

Persnickety was no idiot - she knew all too well that Vainglorious was a creature of narcissism and shallow pleasures. Perhaps the reason she was remaining so polite was a morbid curiosity of just how deep-seeded all of that went. For the most part, she seemed to actually be trying to be helpful in her own way, but when she started talking about the play...

"I've always been an avid believer in one learning to act best from experience - not that classes do not help, but I do not think that they dig up the full potential that some aspiring actors have." She paused for a moment. "...That being said, I am inclined to politely disagree with some of your views - I know that, erm...that they are just university students, and that they do have a lot to learn. It was shabbier than it could have been. But, I don't think it was so terribly miserable. Some of the roles were stronger played than the others, but it's nothing a little work and constructive criticism couldn't help. Some are just naturals. Others have to work to become better." The mare smiled, adjusting her glasses, "What matters is that they are following their dreams and carving their own paths. A career in the arts is hard enough as it is, and they at least have to be given credit for trying. Not everyone is brave enough to get up on a stage and play the part of someone else's life for a couple of hours."

The smile grew meek, though it was likely more spiteful than genuine, "That's just my humble opinion, however. I'm no director, nor am I an esteemed critic."

[NeilWacaster]

Newsworthy wrote down the haughty mare's words quickly, mentally promising himself he would use as few of them as possible.

The overworked bartender had finished pouring the drinks, and Newsworthy handed them out to Persnickety, Pocket Change, Clef, and himself. He drew morbid satisfaction from the fact that he had ordered the refreshment before Vainglorious had joined them. Not that boring old cider would appeal to her pretentious taste buds.

He felt a slight tug at his conscience. Perhaps he had judged this mare too quickly. She had offered Persnickety some 'constructive criticism' concerning her eyesight ...

These thoughts were quickly swept aside as he heard the brown pegasus disagreeing with Vainglorious. He had a sinking feeling that this was not going to end well, but figured he might as well jump aboard the sinking ship, now that he had the interview material he needed.

"I, for one, agree with Persnickety," he said, looking at her kindly. "While no one is disputing that several of the actors have a lot to learn, it was one of the best university shows that I've seen. The cast as a whole should be commended. The costumes and set were first rate, and I really think that by the time some of these students graduate, they will be top tier material. Like the actress who played Mrs. Lowman, Star Shining? I think we'll see her in a Broadneigh musical someday."

[tacobob]

"I just gave you my quick and somewhat blanketed opinion on what I just saw.", the mare added as she collected a fresh drink from the bartender, "And yes, while some performances were maybe almost passable, this was an ensemble production, so the rotten performances and ham-acting did manage to overwhelm what may have been a nearly decent play. If you wish to see my proper review of the play, do check it out in the proper publications tomorrow. Cheers!", she slid of her stool, "Pocket, do be a dear and pay the good stallion. I do believe I see Hoity Toity over there with his new mare-friend. Heh.", she chuckled dryly, "Why does he even bother? He is fooling nopony!", she made her way towards the end of the room. The unicorn did as he as asked, "Persnickety, News..See you all later. Nice meeting you Clef! Hope to meet you all later during less..er..", realizing he had fallen behind, he quickly made his way after the mare.

OOC: Sorry! Very short post..My water heater decided to go klabooey! So both I and my garage got to enjoy a nice cold shower before work this morning..Bleh)

[Partheus]

Clef gazed furiously at the back of Vainglorious' head, glad to be finally rid of her. Now, he thought, if only the rest of these fools would follow suit. A smirk grew on his face, the first time he had experienced anything resembling joy since he walked in to the hotel. Heh, 'suit'... He refocused on Newsworthy and Persnickety, getting the impression he wasn't the only one glad to see the back of Vainglorious. "Your friend Pocket Change seems like a nice enough guy, but boy does he pick some stuffy mares to be around. I don't know if it's the tiny bit of alcohol in my system already, but I was that close to lashing out at her." He held out both hooves and brought them within a few millimetres of each other to show how close he was to snapping.

Clef picked up his tankard of cider and took another swig, in an attempt to drown out any negative thoughts of Vainglorious with the sweeping tide of drug-induced ignorance. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve and set the tankard down, smiling to himself. Now with Vainglorious out of the way, he could ask a question that was on his mind since he got up to the bar. "So Persnickety, I was a little reluctant to ask you earlier, but how did you and Newsworthy meet? I gather that you're from Cloudsdale, seeing as how you went to their school to study drama, and Newsworthy probably spent a lot of time there as well, being a pegasus and all, but did you meet there, or was it one of those chance encounters in some random location?"

[Twimsy]

((Ew. That sounds pretty miserable, tacobob, I hope you get that fixed up soon! D:))

Persnickety merely nodded, though keeping hold of that pleasant exterior was more a chore than she'd hoped. "Do take care, the both of you! Thank you for the pleasant conversation!" She waited until both unicorns had left, before turning and stepping back over to the bar, her expression one of utter disgust. It was as if a big, ugly weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

"Miserable bucking egoist, that one. I should have known she'd be so shallow. Nary an eye for talent," she grumbled, calming that fiery pegasus attitude by downing half of her cider in one go, crinkling her nose at Clef's two cents on the matter, "Mister Change is the type who will do anything for a pretty pl...a pretty face, if he thinks it'll benefit him. And you're not the only one. I only wish I could have told her off, the ill-nurtured popinjay." She shook her head, glancing over to Newsworthy, "Are all after-parties you go to like this? Rather, do you meet a great lot of ponies like...her?"

At least the question as to how she'd met the blue newspony was enough to simmer that irritation for the time being, "I actually met him a couple of days ago at a cafe here in Stalliongrad, the Cider Cellar. A meeting of his at one of the nearby acting schools had been postponed." She left it at that for the time being, not entirely sure if he was privy to the incident that the group present that day had been involved in. "And what of you, dear sir? Is it safe to assume you are in the theater business somehow, or...?"

[Partheus]

Clef shook his head. "I'm not involved with theatre, unfortunately. I'm a composer of music, and my study is all the way back in Ponyville. I do commissions for people, you see. If someone needs a jingle or a funeral march, or even a dance number, I'm usually their first port of call." He straightened his posture and smiled proudly. "For instance, you know the trumpet fanfare they played at the award ceremony for Twilight Sparkle and her friends when they defeated Discord? I composed that about a few days before Discord returned. It was by pure coincidence that my song was needed, and for my contribution, I was paid handsomely by Celestia and Luna themselves." He took a deep and melancholy sigh. "If only I was paid like that all the time..."

He looked into his cider tankard and noticed it was half empty already. Of course, being the rational optimist he was, Clef saw it as half full. He took his fourth swig, setting the tankard down with some force. "Of course, I don't just make music for money. Sometimes, I just write silly songs for fun, or a little tune to amuse friends. Take my good friend Octavia, for instance. Very talented cellist, and dedicated to her craft. She's always asking me to write difficult pieces to put her skills to the test. Not necessarily tuneful ones, mind. Most of them are messy and every other note clashes with the next. But, she doesn't seem to mind that much. She's got her eye on the prize, to be the best cellist the world has ever seen, and I'm more than happy to lend a helping hoof." Clef scratched his chin, his mind suddenly seized by deep thought. "Speaking of which, do you have any ambitions of your own?" He leaned over to catch Newsworthy's eye. "That includes you too. Any dreams or goals?"

[NeilWacaster]

"You don't know the half of it," Newsworthy responded to Persnickety's query. "Although most aren't quite this bad. Being a university, there's a slew of wealthy donors who got free tickets. Most theaters subsist in larger part on ticket sales, rather than the deep pockets of artsy fartsy gentlefolk. Also, many after parties are solely for the production team. Those are always a challenge to get into, even with my press badge. Opera houses are the worst, in terms of snootiness, though. Ponies just go to keep up appearances. They have their noses so high in the air that they can't go out without an umbrella, for fear of drowning."

He grinned at Clef's question. "I'm looking to expand my newspaper business beyond Ponyville. My editorials are already being published in a hundred or so papers throughout the realm, which is why I can afford to buzz around like I do. Believe you me, Ponyvillians are great customers, but have only passing interest in a play like this one. All my friends in the business keep telling me to take advantage of my entrepreneurial expertise. In other words, why own one profitable paper, when you can own two? Or twenty?"

His eyes shone as he talked excitedly about his dream. "My employees already do a great job of keeping the local news steady while I'm away. I think in a few months, they can handle the entire operation. For my next step, I think I'll start a new paper in Manehattan. The market is good, and my friends tell me advertisers are aplenty in a trading hub like that one. I think that I'll be able to apply what I learned in little old Ponyville to make a much larger paper there. After that, who knows? Cloudsdale? Hoofington? Baltimare? In a few years, I could have a publishing syndicate stretching from one end of Equestria to the other."

He sighed contentedly. "But it's just a dream, at this point." He gave Persnickety a knowing look. "Sorry to take so long for my answer, you know how I ramble when I get excited about something."

[Twimsy]

"The joys of being an artist," Persnickety said with a hint of sarcasm, grinning. "Though if we were paid all the time, I doubt we would put such intense effort into what we do. It's all blood, sweat and tears." She raised a brow, "You must be a very good composer, though. I can't write music to save my life, though I do try. I've a musical or two that are sitting and decomposing by the wayside..." She nodded as he spoke again. It was always enjoyable and sometimes inspiring to hear tales from other ponies' lives.

She finished off her cider and let out a small sigh, attention back to Newsworthy, "It's a real pity that - with operas, I mean. It attracts the more wealthy crowds as some sort of stereotypical, mainstream thing more than it does the ponies who actually enjoy them. Some of them are so powerful and moving..." But if she talked any more about it, no doubt she'd ramble on for most of the evening about Ponccini's melodic genius and how Madame Butterfly and La Boheme were true works of art in their own right.

She listened quite contentedly to the blue stallion's aspirations for his newspaper busines, folding her hooves atop the bar as he talked. When he finished, she shook her head, that amused grin tugging the corner of her mouth, "It's fine. I only wish my dreams were so well thought-out. I suppose that I'd just like to write a play that I could be truly satisfied with...or actually get hired on as an actress full-time for a theater, somewhere." She shrugged. "Whichever comes first. If either come at all."

[Partheus]

Clef smirked and looked up to the ceiling, with an admirable and thoughtful gaze fixated on the dim bulbs overhead. "Ah, don't worry about it. My dream isn't really well thought-out either. I want to go down in history as a great composer. To sit next to the greats like Johoof Sebastien Buck and Wolfgang Amaredaeus Mozart in the musical hall of fame would be the greatest honour for me. And, to die knowing that people will be listening to my work for years to come." He looked down to his cider tankard again. "But, like you, I'm not convinced that it will happen. There's some vicious competition out there, and worse still, half of them don't even put in half the effort I do. You've got all these DJs and colt bands going around playing their sub-par music, making all the fanfillies squeal obnoxiously, and they get shedloads of bits for it. Meanwhile, people like me and Octavia bust our flanks for barely enough money to keep a roof over our heads. I've contemplated changing tack and becoming a DJ myself in the past, but then I remember that I will be forgotten in a year, because another DJ or colt band would have taken my place by then."

He picked up his tankard, and with a final lunging crane of his neck, finished his pint. He set the tankard down and wiped his mouth again, tapping a rhythm on the table with his hoof. "A sad state of affairs, but hey, who said life has to be fair? You've got to work with what you've got to get where you want to go, and if you don't make it, that isn't your fault. You were just dealt an unlucky hand, that's all. Better luck next time... if there is a 'next time', that is..." The bartender, working tirelessly due to demanding guests, hurriedly approached Clef and took his tankard. "Would you like a refill, sir?" Clef looked over cautiously to Newsworthy. "Is it alright if I have another?"

[NeilWacaster]

"Of course!" Newsworthy grinned. "Cider is cheap ... or at least, relatively so at a place like this. Drink up, my good lad. Life may not be fair, but a little more alcohol might improve your outlook a bit." He ordered another round for all three of them.

Newsworthy cocked his head at Persnickety. "I haven't heard of many actors that only work for one theater. Considering the specific nature of the talent needed for specific roles, and the relatively small number of roles needed per year for a single theater, the full-time actors that I know are just really good at auditioning. It also helps if you can finagle your way into one of the unions, like the Royal Society of Entertainers, or some such. Although," he rolled his eyes, "you have to have the right bloodline or connections to get into most of those cliques."

Newsworthy suddenly realized that his honesty was probably discouraging for Persnickety. He quickly tried to think of a way to put a positive spin on the conversation.

"Speaking of which ..." the stallion said, "this gathering is a good opportunity to make those connections. Maybe you should ask one of the actors here for some pro tips? One of my acquaintances, Spit Polish, is a professional actor and set designer, and helped with some of the rigging for this production. If she's here, I should introduce you."

[Twimsy]

"I suppose the only thing we can do is be optimistic about it all. Surely there is some power in positive thinking. That is a lovely dream, though, and at least it has the chance of coming true just as much as anypony else's dream." Oh, sure. She could give some words of encouragement to others, but when it came to encouraging herself, it was something she was rather miserable at. And though Newsworthy's words were unintentionally discouraging, they certainly did a good job at making her shrink away into that introverted little shell of hers.

"I know," she said quietly, taking a small sip of her new mug of cider. "It's something I'm not terribly good at, either. And goodness knows I don't know very many someponies..."

And I call myself an aspiring actress. The only time I'm outgoing is when I'm playing the role for something, for bucks sake. When I actually make an attempt to be outgoing, where does it get me in the theater business? Five miles up the creek without a paddle...

"If she would even want to talk to me," the pegasus muttered, pausing and clearing her throat. "Sorry, that was rude of me. If she's an acquaintance of yours, then she's more than likely at least a little more civilized than the majority of the ritzy crowd, here. I'd be happy to meet her."

[Partheus]

Clef pricked his ears up at the mention of Spit Polish. Yes, he thought, if she's friends with Newsworthy, actual friends with him, she's bound to be more tolerable than Vainglorious was. "As would I. Frankly, I can't really think of anything else to talk about that wouldn't bore you both to death, so I'm up for it." Anything to get my creative juices flowing, he mused. If given the opportunity, I'd normally avoid meeting new faces. It only brings more misery and more things to remember about people, and I cannot hinder my thoughts with memories of what that random person at the flower store's name was, or what colour mane that fussy librarian has. But, if it means getting a new piece done in my head for when I return to Ponyville, I suppose my mind can take the strain. That, or the cider has given me false courage. Probably the latter. Oh well.

Clef looked over his shoulder to try and spot anyone else in the droll procession of suited ponies that stood out. To the dismay of his imagination, there was no one else he could see that looked remotely like an individual, or the slightest bit interesting. He ran a light green hoof through his unkempt mane, checking to see if any birds hadn't nested in it, like that one embarrassing incident outside the symphony hall in Manehatten. It was hard to decide which was worse; the twigs and feathers lodged in his mane for months on end, or the infamy he gained among his colleagues for it.

[NeilWacaster]

((OOC: I've been away from home and as busy as a beaver for the past couple of days. Sorry for the lack of posts, I'll try to drum up some inspiration.))

Newsworthy looked at Persnickety, concerned. He had really put his hoof in his mouth, this time. Giving her a reassuring smile, he said, "Well, getting the part is often the most difficult part of the acting profession, at least from what I've heard. I'm sure that an acting cla-" Classes cost money, you idiot. "I mean, some more practice, and you'll do just fine. As for Ms. Polish, she's ... well. Interesting. Definitely different from most of the ponies here." He scanned the room, looking for her. By a stroke of luck, he saw her walking towards the bar, holding an empty martini glass in an aura of yellow magic. "Ms. Polish!" Newsworthy said, beckoning her over.

"Oui?" She turned and squinted at him from behind thin reading glasses. "Monsieur Newsworthy? It has been years! What has the life treated you?"

"Very well, very well. It has been too long, hasn't it. Let me have that drink refilled for you," he said, taking the glass and giving it to the bartender. "Spit Polish, this is ..." he hesitated for a brief moment. He wanted to say my fillyfriend, but decided it was a bit soon for that designation. "... Persnickety, and this is Clef Scribbles."

"Pleased to meet your acquaintance, all of you," she said, warmly.

[Twimsy]

((Riiiise, I say! RIIIIIIIISE!! *Resurrects thread.*))

Persnickety had no idea this night would quickly become so mentally draining. She should have known, though. At least there were a couple of ponies about to make it enjoyable, and she'd like the play. That accounted for at least a little bit. Maybe this evening she could settle in with a cup of tea and a good book...

Once again snapped from her thoughts at the newcomer, she made sure to at least put on a smile. Sounded like a mare from Prance, if she spotted the accent properly. "A pleasure to meet you as well, madam," she replied, nodding respectfully. At least Miss Polish sounded far nicer - carried herself more like a decent mare, too. Not someone with their nose stuck five-miles up into Cloudsdale.

[NeilWacaster]

"Persnickety is an actress looking for a break into the business, Ms. Polish," Newsworthy said, casually. "Perhaps you have some advice that could help her on her way?"

The mare laughed, ending in a little sigh. "The best advice I can give is ... eh, become a hairdresser. It pays better than the work, which I do." She squinted from behind the thin golden rims of her reading glasses. "You are young and très belle, ma cherie. Why waste the best years of your life, like I did? And for what? Often I have no work. When I do have it, I work at the mercy of the directors. Sometime night and day, day and night, and then they change their mind. Poof!" She emphasized with a wave of her hoof. "And the set changes, or the line changes, or ..."

Celestia help us, Newsworthy thought. And I thought my words were discouraging. "Miss Polish, your drink," Newsworthy interrupted, smiling nervously and passing her a translucent green martini.

"Ah, yes, many thanks, many thanks," she nodded at him, sipping daintily from the glass.

[Partheus]

Clef listened to what Spit Polish had to say. That's not going to help Persnickety's confidence at all, he thought. Mabye if I interjected now and changed the subject, I could steer her thoughts away from anything negative and let them fade away in the back of her mind... He straightened his composure, a rarity for somebody as absent-minded as he was concerning appearances. "Say, umm... Miss Polish, is it?" He glanced over to Newsworthy to check if he had got her name right. The slightly eager look in his eyes told Clef he was correct. "Yes, I was wondering if you personally knew any famous film music composers. You know, like John Whinnyams, or Hay Zimmer? See, I'm a huge fan of them both, and I've read their autobiographies, and apparently, they often talk with the main actors of the film they are composing for, to try and really understand the drama behind certain scenes so they can score better music for it. Have any of them ever approached you or talked to you in any way?" This better work, he thought, forcing a weak smile on his face.

[tacobob]

A loud crash from the other side of the room could be heard. It was either the sound of plates, glasses or both that had just hit the hard floor. For those who were curious, most of the noise was coming from two slightly inebriated unicorns who were in the middle of crossing their horns. One of those unicorns was Pocket Change. "You take it back you dungbrained wizhack! Star-Swirl the Bearded was the true father of modern magic, everypony knows that! It's the first thing they taught us in magic kindergarten! So I'm guessing you never passed!", he growled as he tried to push the other unicorn back.

"Rubbish! Bloody Rubbish it is!", the other stallion growled as he tried to push Pocket Change back, but neither moved, being evenly matched, "That's what they want you to think! It was One Eye that was the true master and the real creator of modern magic. One Eye was a real unicorn, Star-Swirl was a cambion for Celestia's sake! Utter trash!", he started to growl, before being nudged by one of the wait-staff, who quickly placed two drinks at a table nearby. Both unicorns backed away, enjoyed their drinks before returning to their tug of war and their 'debate'.

[Twimsy]

Persnickety couldn't help but laugh at the thought of becoming a hairdresser. "Tempting as it might be, I can barely style my own mane." She sighed. "But, you are right about one thing. Mundane work would probably pay better than the unforgiving and fast-paced field of the arts." Her ears drooped a tad. This night...goodness. It was becoming more and more discouraging by the minute. At least Newsworthy and Clef made an effort to cease it before any more damage could be done, and the mare quickly scooted a pace or two back, crinkling her nose and reaching for her own drink. Which was empty, already. Eugh.

But perhaps they're all right. Well, no. They are all right. It is a vicious field, and a thankless job for most everypony who goes into it. But, that is just the nature of it. I could go home a failure and work at the factory like my mother, or stay here and continue living in minimal conditions and work on plays and acting. The former sounds so temping at times. Goodness knows I've thought about it more than once...

The crash across the room startled the pegasus from her thoughts, and she peered over at...oh. Oh. It was just Pocket Change giving someone else a hard time. She almost had the right mind to go over there and break them up, herself, but she was neither their keeper nor their babysitter, and she certainly didn't seem keen on starting, now. Instead, Persnickety gave a roll of her eyes and nodded to the tender.

"Another, if you please? I think I am going to need it..."

[NeilWacaster]

"Hay Zimmer is the only one that I've seen in the flesh, that snobbish, good-for-nothing wart. His music may be nice to have listen, but the manners ... how you say ... leave the something desired, yes?" Spit Polish swirled her drink around, wincing.

As the bartender passed Persnickety another mug of cider, Newsworthy noticed his date's downcast gaze and wilted ears. He leaned over and whispered, "I'm sorry for Ms. Polish's harsh words, I didn't know she was so cynical about her profession." He tried to smile. "When I've seen her before, she hadn't had so much to drink ..." His smile faded into a worried expression. "Are you alright? Ah ... we don't have to stay if this is making you uncomfortable."

[Twimsy]

The brown pegasus lifted the mug of cider and unceremoniously downed a third of it without so much as blinking. Her date's words gave her a start, however, and a bit of it ended up in her nose. Good gracious, she was rarely this skittish. Though perhaps the evening's conversations were primarily the culprit. Persnickety cleared her throat, shaking her head at the stallion with a light smile.

"She seems like a kind mare, some ponies are just cynical about their work. It's not uncommon, unfortunately..." Some were forced into certain jobs, others had no choice. And then there were the ones who thought to follow their dreams, and that...well. That was a slippery slope to traverse, perhaps even more than the others.

"I'll be fine. Besides," she said, "you have to make up notes for a report on the night's events. It wouldn't do to keep you from your work." She glanced over her shoulder towards the heated debate between infamous Mister Pocket and whatever adversary he'd locked figurative horns with, "Goodness knows there are enough big-headed buffoons out, tonight..."

[NeilWacaster]

Newsworthy smiled, relieved. "Leave it to you to remember what job I'm supposed to be doing. You're right, I do need to interview a few of the actors. You're more than welcome to join me, if ... you know ..." He nodded discreetly at Spit Polish, who was still chattering away with Clef. "Besides, what better chance to get to meet them? They always want to talk to me. Like I was telling you earlier, they know that a good word in my editorial could mean a great deal for their career."

[Twimsy]

Persnickety smiled, though her brows were knit. It was a conflicting expression. She was happy to be of help, but at the same time...part of her just wanted to leave. She couldn't stand the thought of being so rude, though. Not after how excited she'd been the other night to go to the play and after party with him.

"That's very kind of you, but I think I might just sit it out here, if you wouldn't mind..." She massaged the side of her head with a hoof, "I feel a bit of a headache coming on...but, do go and talk to them. I'm sure you're right - and they deserve the editorial spotlight. They do work so very hard."

In any other occasion, she probably would've jumped at the chance to talk to the actors with him. Though in any other occasion, she probably wouldn't have been feeling her faith in her chosen career path slipping as much as it was, now.

[NeilWacaster]

Newsworthy looked concerned. Persnickety said she'll be fine, he thought, and I really do need to get those interviews. If that's what she wants ...

"Alright, then, stay out of trouble." He gave her a wink, then turned to walk over to the VIP section where the actors were talking and laughing loudly at a large table.

* * *

About half an hour later, Newsworthy stowed his notepad in his hat, satisfied with the interesting quotes and anecdotes he had gleaned from the actors. This editorial may not be half bad, he thought as he walked back toward the bar. Dear Celestia, I hope Persnickety is alright. If that Spit Polish said anything else, I swear ...