Baklava

~Majora's Mask: Oathkeeper's Dawn~

“Hm,” Lynnette took the flyer back with a suspicious smirk, a bit doubtful that this Clyde Kenneth character wasn’t some joke name as well. Nonetheless, it sounded like he at least recognized that Grout Mutah was their main competitor, so maybe it really was a ‘little joke’.

"So you're the troupe's exotic dancer and he's your servant boy, right?"

Lynnette paused for a moment in writing Clyde Kenneth’s name, blinking irritably with her head still down so Oliver couldn’t see. Exotic dancer? She was a vocalist, dancer, sorceress, and professional performer of the highest grade—not a stripper. She didn’t consider the frustratingly ignorant mistake worthy of a response.

Marcus’ laughing fit ended there, obviously not very happy with his own label either. He didn’t have a chance to voice his resentment, however, as Oliver went on to ask them about magic. True, by the look of his sword and armor, Oliver definitely didn’t look like the magic using type-- but Lynnette wasn’t really the needlessly nosy type. She couldn’t really care less why the man was looking for some ‘arcane consultation’, as he put it. In fact, she was beginning to feel quite done with this little exchange—eager to go on with her shopping before the Prince’s speech.

“Sounds like the person you want to talk to is Madame Fanadi,” Lynnette suggested, handing back the signed flyer a second time, “She’s a bit… eccentric, but don’t let that fool you. Madame Fanadi would be my first choice if I were looking for some arcane knowledge.”

Oliver received an Autographed Black Marsh Circus Flyer (Limited Edition)!

A flyer for the Black Marsh Circus. Also lists show times for the carnival season. Includes limited edition Lorelei the Siren autograph. Estimated to be worth several hundred rupees... probably.

Marcus scoffed, “Don’t expect her to just hand over any information for free, though. Penny-pinching bitch made me fork over rupees just to tell me whether or not she’d seen my misplaced bottle of sword polish.”

“You’ll find her in room 201 at the Stock Pot Inn,” she continued (only savvy with this information because it happened to be the room right beside her own), “She doesn’t usually like being bothered when she isn’t actually working, but it might be worth a shot—if you’re really that desperate, you know?” As she spoke, she took one of the flyers from Marcus and jotted down the information for Oliver-- any excuse to get rid of another flyer. She might’ve made out a personal note he could have used to see Madame Fanadi more easily-- or at least get a discount—but she wasn’t feeling quite that nice at the moment. …exotic dancer her ass….

“If you can’t get a hold of her there, you can always stop by her booth during any of the hours listed on that flyer. She’ll be working one of the tented stalls surrounding the center performance ring anywhere between 9 and midnight,” she motioned towards the Black Marsh Circus tent on the far side of the park, tucked in the corner amongst the other Deku stalls.

As they were originally from Marshfall, Fyer had spent years ensuring their spot there in the park for the carnival each year-- where the moonlight through the trees nicely accented the purposely-eerie look of the place each night. Not to mention it was far from all the other competition. In the daylight, however, and with the wooden beam framework still being constructed, it was hardly intimidating.

“We usually collaborate with several of the carnival merchants around this time of year. They set up shop in the hall around the center ring and it's usually pretty cram-packed so it’s easy to get lost. That map should help you find it more easily.” Special favors for unenlightened not-customers like Oliver? No. But never let it be said that Lynnette wasn’t one to support the business of her fellow troupe members… with the exception of Marcus, who obviously had no problem with it.

Oliver received a Folded Black Marsh Circus Flyer!

A flyer for the Black Marsh Circus, folded in half with the number 201 and “Madame Fanadi - Stock Pot Inn” scrawled in neat girly hand-writing on the back. Also shows a small, simplistic diagram of the Black Marsh Circus stadium-like tent, indicating exactly where to find Madame Fanadi’s booth in addition to show times for the carnival season. Estimated to be worth absolutely nothing... probably.

“Anyways, it was nice talking to you Mr. Pike IV,” she said with a scripted smile and slight tilt of her head, “Enjoy the carnival, sir!”

With that, she was off to peruse the wares and most likely pass out flyers to the aforementioned merchants that cooperated with the Black Marsh Circus at night.

~Majora's Mask: Oathkeeper's Dawn~

“Ha!” Lynnette had to cover her mouth with the back of her pen-holding hand to prevent herself from laughing more at Oliver's stab at Marcus. Marcus obviously wasn’t as amused by the man’s second joke about the poster and she heard him hiss “What?” under his breath as he took an aggressive step forward.

“Cool it,” she told him, waving her arm front of Marcus' path with a trace of laughter still in her voice, “I think I like this guy!”

"Well, I'm not in town a lot so I'm trying to spend what time I have with my family, y'know? If I do come, I'll probably be taking my younger sister along, so it'll most likely be one of the earlier shows. But I do appreciate the offer. I'll let my friend know; he kinda likes that... sort of thing."

Her smile faded a bit when he said that. “Oh, that’s a shame. But I’m sure you two will enjoy the show just the same, even though I don’t perform for those ones,” she smiled apologetically.

...Not. Her show was the reason most people came. Not that the other shows weren’t good, but… hers was definitely the best. (In her own opinion anyway.) That was part of the reason why she was so pissed about having to pin up flyers. But whatever— his loss.

"…Grout Mutah.”

Lynnette froze, her jaw dropping a bit with a small “uh” sound. Was he... serious? "Make it out to Grout Mutah, please. Maybe add something nice, like 'with love', or 'to my biggest fan.' That'd be really special, he'd like that a lot.”

“HA! Hahahahaha!” Marcus burst out laughing before Lynnette had a chance to say anything.

“Uhm… heheh,” Lynnette laughed a bit nervously, “Are you—“

“Are you SERIOUS?!" Marcus cut her off, "Hahaha, oh man! That’s a good one!” He continued laughing, holding his sides while Lynnette tried to think of some way to make the man's attempt at a lie a bit less awkward.

“You don’t really know Grout Mutah, do you?” she rhetorically asked as politely as she could, “The only reason Grout Mutah would ever want an autograph from any of us Black Marshies would be to therapeutically set it on fire and watch it burn. Here.” She couldn’t help but chuckle a bit as she handed back the flyer with just her autograph on it.

~Majora's Mask: Oathkeeper's Dawn~

“Yeah,” she chuckled at his joke and lightly nodded her head in response to his inquiry. Definitely a much less exaggerated response than she was expecting—did this guy live under a rock or what?

She smiled again as the man assured her he would try his “very best” to go to a show despite his busy schedule. She couldn’t possibly count how many times she had heard this exact line. If the man hadn’t recognized her immediately, then it was obvious he’d never been to a show and it was unlikely a flyer was going to get him to go now. These sort of people really threw her off. Why wouldn’t anyone want to go? Aside from getting their purse stolen, that is—but few ever connected that to the circus itself and instead blamed themselves for not watching out for pick pockets in the crowd.

“A celebrity?” Marcus scoffed, obviously more than a little disgruntled that Lynnette had laughed at the man's joke. She never laughed at any of his jokes…. “Lorelei the Siren is a prodigy! A legend amongst performers! If you haven’t seen one of her shows, you haven’t lived, man!” he sneered, crossing his arms with the roll of flyers gripped firmly in one hand.

What a big baby. Lynnette subtly rolled her eyes and smirked so only the stranger could see her, slightly shaking her head.

“I could sign something for you now, if you like,” she answered sweetly, pulling a pen from her bag. Fyer had demanded that she provide an autograph whenever asked, no matter how “busy” she was. What a pain. “I would really love to see you there,” she said as she started writing, “Nevermind the afternoon shows, though—those are more for kids. It’s the midnight shows from 11 to 1 you want to catch. “ She winked.

“Who would you like me to make this out to, by the way?” she paused.

~Majora's Mask: Oathkeeper's Dawn~

Still waiting on intro posts from Kiddo, Otty, and Falkon!

~Majora's Mask: Oathkeeper's Dawn~

“This is such a pain,” Lynnette hissed, stooping over to pick up the nail she’d just dropped.
“Come on, Lynny,” Marcus grinned sheepishly, taking a step back and obviously enjoying the view, "It's not that bad."

“I told you not to call me that,” she frowned, retrieving the nail and hammering it into the large board beside the archway leading from East Clock Town to the park with several light taps, “Especially not in public, Marcus.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Marcus scoffed, his hand gravitating to her shoulder whilst she finished hammering in the last nail. She quickly turned and stepped past him, evading Marcus’ creepy gesture of “it’s been three years and I still haven’t learned my lesson”. After three years, however, this routine was just that—routine.

“He can’t seriously expect us to pin all of these things up,” she sighed, “He made way too many. I mean, look—“
“I heard he’s been on about that Rock Circus in town, you know,” Marcus shrugged as they kept walking.

“Why should I have to suffer for his dumb feud with that Grout Mutah guy?” Lyn sniped, “Whatever. Let’s just pass some of them out for now. I want to get some shopping done… come on.” She slipped the hammer and small box of nails Fyer had given her into her satchel and took a few flyers from Marcus. There was a somewhat lanky looking man sitting on a bench nearby looking at a book. Looking, she thought, because the man certainly didn’t look like he was reading it. How could he? Whatever was written on those pages he was leafing through didn’t look like any words she’d ever seen, she noticed as she approached him. If he was some dorky historian, he certainly didn’t look the part.

“Hey,” Lynnette said softly, extending her arm to hand him a flyer. The image on the flyer was an intricate piece of artwork done in black and blue ink with the words “Black Marsh Circus” neatly written across a banner at the top of the paper. A depiction of Lorelei the Siren, dark waves of water, and a few other performers from the troupe, including Marcus, decorated the page. At the bottom were several show times for their nightly and afternoon performances over the next several days, the nightly shows known for being of a more mature nature.

Once the man looked up, she smiled faintly.... he was pretty cute. “Catching the show tonight?” she smiled.

~Majora's Mask: Oathkeeper's Dawn~

Hey, whoa! I've never spilled any secrets! Not ever. Come on.

~Majora's Mask: Oathkeeper's Dawn~

Competition....

*Fyer and Grout Mutah glare at each other in all their slouched-over glariness*

~Majora's Mask: Oathkeeper's Dawn~

"UGHH!" what sounded like an angst-riddled teenager who'd suddenly lost their spine due to some trivial calamity sounded from within the room at the Stock Pot Inn. ‘Might as well have been, Lyn figured. "Honey-- have you seen my scarf? The green and orange one? Like that one we got at the beach that one time, remember? I'm, like, so sure I packed it… I just know I did!"

Lynnette blinked at the bustling street below one last time before pushing herself away from the windowsill to help her mother search for her hideous green and orange scarf. "Why don't you just wear the blue one?" Lynnette sighed, beginning to search through her own suitcase of clothes in case her mother had absentmindedly packed it in there-- not an uncommon occurrence.

"This is the one I wore last time! He said he liked it!" her mother insisted, stopping to cake on another layer of bright red lipstick in front of the mirror, but not before scrunching her cigarette with two bright red French fingernails into the already-nearly-full ash tray in front of her. Vanessa, or Venny, as most knew her, was a fairly plump woman, which exaggerated her hourglass shape, a trait she'd passed on to Lynnette, but without the unnecessary flab. She had shoulder length brown hair that was done up with enough hairspray to fill a small pond and wore more make-up than anyone her age should probably even own. Her mother's many unhealthy habits hadn't exactly kept her looking very youthful either, but the younger guys only ever tended to go after her the day after payday anyway-- which was also the day before she either spent it all or gambled it away.

Lynnette pursed her lips in frustration, biting back a comment she would likely regret whilst she continued searching. As usual, her mother's newest catch was more of a sickly, leeching bottom-feeder, but trying to get her to “throw it back" was about as likely to happen as getting her to give up on finding that terrible orange and green scarf… or, at the least, stop thinking about her dingy date and more seriously consider that which was scheduled to go down that very afternoon.

"Lyn, dear, you know I could care less about politics," was all she had said when Lyn told her the news about the Prince of Ikana visiting Clock Town. Was she suffering from senility and actually forgot or did she honestly not care about possibly seeing her family again after 25 years?

Three sharp knocks at the door saved her from the impending argument that was sure to happen if she stayed and watched her mom fret about like a prissy school girl any longer. "Let's get goin', sweetheart!" a man's voice called from the other side of the door. Shouldering her satchel under her cloak, Lynnette tossed the scarf her mother had been searching for on the vanity in front of her.

"It was hiding in that striped shirt of yours," she said simply, making her way to the door.
“Lyn! Come o- oh!” Lyn opened the door. “Well, hello there, sweethea-“
“Let’s go already,” she groaned, rolling her eyes as she brushed past him.

Marcus Bonner, a 27 year old man who was only considerably skilled at three things, in Lynnette’s opinion—sword swallowing, fire magic, and getting on her every last nerve almost every minute of every day, despite his muscular physique, “dashing” good looks, and mysterious ability to wink almost every five seconds without fail when talking to whomever he deems an “attractive lady-friend”. She secretly wished he would break his so-called “celebrity code” and date one of his many drooling fan girls for once-- if only so they could finally discover what an unbelievable dick the man was and spread the news. She’d long since given up on demanding that he not call her sweetheart or “Lynny” and, despite her complaints, Fyer still insists he be the one to escort her everywhere.

Once outside the Inn, Lynnette pulled her hood up and they merged as discreetly as they could into the crowd, making their way towards the much less crowded North Clock town. She hoped to make a full circle of the town in order to get a look at all of her favorite shops before the Prince’s speech that afternoon—she was in dire need of some new jewelry.

Amidst the many performances and right beside the Stock Pot Inn was a small act meant mainly to advertise for the Black Marsh Circus— a painted wooden stand-up sign next to a shady, canopy of many dark colors and Ruck, the four-armed Goron, impressively juggling seven swords to beating drums and a trumpet while another member of the troupe stood in front of an abnormally large hat and collected tips. That was good, Lynnette thought. It meant that Fyer wasn’t around to—

“You two,” a gruff voice barked from behind them just as they passed the canopy, causing both Marcus and Lynnette to jump. Oh, great....
“Pin up these flyers.”

Lynnete felt a light slap on her shoulder as Fyer handed her a fat, rolled up stack of the things.

“Oh, come on—are you serious?” Lynnette droned.
“Yeah, Mr. F, can’t you get somebody else to do it?” Marcus argued.

Fyer gave them both his usual dead-eyed look, “It’s either this or you two can go help shovel tiger shit and help pound in the tent stakes and nails at the park for tonight.”

Lynnette wrinkled her nose and sighed, taking the flyers and pushing them into Marcus’ chest whilst turning on her heel in a huff.
“Whoa—hey—fine,” Marcus grumbled, barely managing to catch the things, “I’ll carry them, but you’re hanging them up.”

“Whatever,” Lynnette breathed, taking off her cloak and stashing it in her bag, “Let’s get going.”

Post Majora's Mask Alternate Timeline Zelda RP (High Casual)

No.... This is the timeline where Link is ultimately defeated by Ganondorf and, therefore, never returns to being a child-- thus never embarking on his soul-searching journey to Termina.

Post Majora's Mask Alternate Timeline Zelda RP (High Casual)

(Well, technically there's about 14 hours left for applications. But whatevs.)