In the Great Theater

Tonight's rehearsal was a bust. I had hoped to rehearse the final scene this evening. The timing is a bit off and the blocking could use some work. There are some physical bits in the scene that could use a little work. Actors. Priest-Kings, love them. I had thought those of my Caste, Poets and Singers and the like, were a troupe of drunken lechers, but I am finding they do not compare to the debauchery of Actors. The fellows are usually tardy, sometimes inexplicably so, but neither Quintus nor Alcobiades bothered to even show up tonight. There are still a few hands left until curtain, and the miscommunication is not unexpected, but it is a bit stressful. Still, it is always a pleasure to be in the company of the fishmonger Phineahas and the famed Locutius.

The evening was not a total waste. The girl, Bridget, rushed into the Theater with a message from her Mistress, the Lady Eliza, which offered enough lewd invective to make a Wharf Praetor in the Vosk Harbor of Lara blush. Apparently, my failure to keep a dinner appointment with the woman was entirely unacceptable. I have rescheduled, and upped my offer of Two Silver Tarsks to Two & Thirty-Five. It is my sincere hope that I am not otherwise engaged tomorrow evening and find the time to meet the fair woman tomorrow. She seemed a little agitated by the content of her missive. I suppose I can understand that. I am excellent dinner company. At least that is what I have been told.

The Lady Black, otherwise known as Noemi, also chose to bless us all with her presence. The woman disdains veils under the delusion that she is entertaining people. It is an outright scandal and her claims to be of my Caste are not the least of her delusions, if the most offensive. I suspect she was involved in the murder of the proprietor of the Kal-da Cafe on Sixth Street in the Anbar District. People were poisoned. Found in a paralyzed state. They eventually came to, but not before the proprietor was dragged into the street under the suspicion that he had done something nefarious and beaten until bloody. He eventually died from the wounds inflicted. One merely follows the money in any criminal investigation. Who profited in the end? Who benefited? Noemi has opened a business, renovating the Kal-da Cafe into something so lurid as not to be discussed further and the Magistrate who presumably would have been investigating the murder of the former proprietor has gone missing. If she is unaware that fingers are pointing in her direction, she is far more than delusional. She is just plain stupid. The men in that district will not suffer that sort of nonsense for long, as evidenced by the thuggery done upon the former proprietor. Her comeuppance may not be by my hand, but it will come. I commented to the woman's guardsman that he was delinquent in his duties. The woman he was paid to protect had become a bit loud in her tone and bold with her address. He had not bothered to usher her out of the room or, at the very least, cuff her to the floor. Curiously, he did not seem willing to act on her behalf. It is a shame, really. The fellow seemed nice enough, but he had very little pride in his work. He did little more than hold the woman by the arm. I considered cuffing her myself, actually, but found the exertion to do so outweighing the potential satisfaction.