☆ Event: A Tale of Two Cities

[faileas]

Event Log: September, A Tale of Two Cities

I. THE TRIP OUT On Septeril 5th, those who've agreed to go as dignitaries to Dorchacht will meet with Nerissa Bell in the Coven's foyer. Given the group is a little large, and the boat they've procured for the voyage would be a little crowded with all of them on it, she suggests there be two groups: the first one will go now and will return around the middle of the month, while the second will depart a few days after the first group returns, just to give them some breathing room. a. DIGNITARY: THE SHIP Those joining Nessie are led to the docks, where an old ship is being scrapped down, barnacles removed and hull shined to perfection. Sailors call to and fro from on board, buckets of water thrown off the side away from the docks and there's a tingle of nervous excitement from the gathering crowds come to wish the dignitaries and ambassadors a bon voyage. She's of a medium size, able to hold her crew and half of the assigned dignitaries with little trouble, and from top to bottom the moose-like Faun of a captain calls her a seaborn miracle; short of a sea wyrm, she's never faltered nor fled the waves, but he'll admit that she's been more a fishing boat than anything the past couple years. Judging from the way his tuffed tail lashes in excitement, he's thrilled to be out on a real voyage again -- even if it's to those notoriously unfriendly blokes 'round the corner of the map, haven't been in decades time and they've always been up their own arses about this and that. While dignitaries are supposed to relax the best they can on the four day trip, the captain doesn't seem to mind offering work to those interested in learning the way of the sea or with the know-how already, eagerly asking the Mirrorbound about their experiences beyond the glass... much more than he is about talking about himself outside of his ship, who he loves a great deal and sings the praises of up and down the hour, through sea shanty and spoken word. His large antlers don't seem to get in the way of his work nor bar him from getting in and out his quarters, but watch out! They are large and they do hurt. All's not well going to and from Dorchacht, though, as while the waters are safer than the land by far, there's plenty of dangers within the deep: Infected Merrow swim in the shallows, singing sweetly from rocks that jut out at the shore, and some more adventurous ones try their luck closer to the boat too. The captain's Navigator, a Witch with just as rowdy an attitude if more polite a tone, can manage a deafening spell on the ship to keep any from falling seaward, but asks that those who can to rid the ship of those terrible pests, whether by cannon, magic, or something else similarly ranged. Oh, it'd be perfectly alright if they killed them, plenty of them out here in the sea and growing ever more, but if they simply want to scare them off then by all means! There's also all manner of sea beasts as well, from krakens on the smaller side to the mentioned sea wyrms earlier, though the captain'll say that they're just babies compared to the mother he'd faced last year -- still troublesome little bastards, best put down before they're drowned themselves, but nothing to turn tail at. Outside of these... troubles... there's disorderly sailors of Monster and Witch alike, the former being compromised primarily of Turnskin and Faun for heavy lifting, with a Harpy in the crow's nest to help with speed, and the latter being those specializing in Divination and Astrology for directions, as well as some elemental manipulation from the Evocation course. Unlike the proper Coven trained, they seem like they're a little more unconventional with their magics, using "shortcuts" and combining spells to great effect. When they're not on the clock as it were they enjoy a great deal of ale, howling stories and song, pushing each other around whilst the journey's bright and startlingly serious when things turn south. Be careful you don't get in a fight, or perhaps you'd like to show your stuff in a little competition: They're willing to do anything to pass the time. b. ESPIONAGE: THE DEVICE Upon hearing that there are some who would be interested in investigating the device that Mhairi mentioned, a young Witch opens up the room it's being stored in now to allow them a chance to check it out. They warn that it isn't particularly cooperative, but maybe those with some knowledge of magitech - or their world's equivalent - might be able to help? While not exactly the largest device around, it's one that stands out. Something resembling a Tesla coil stands atop the piece of tech, tall enough to almost reach the ceiling of the rather tall room, and various dials and knobs and gauges adorn the outside of it. Those who are perceptive to magic - training in detection spells, or who have a good sense for it, or even a sixth sense for something poised to happen - will be able to note that there's a sort of... presence in the room. It continues to build up, the more people that come in to investigate. Anyone that tinkers with it, has active magitech on their person, or even uses magic in it, only help to build the sensation. And then, when enough Mirrorbound of both the Witch and Monster persuasion are in the room - A whirring noise fills the room, as the device comes to life. There isn't any time to vacate the room, because whether it was an intentional thing to activate the teleporter or not, it's activated. The intention of using it for travel to Dorchacht remains embedded in it, and from one moment to the next, the group in the room find themselves not in the Coven, but in the midst of trees. All around you is the forest just beneath the cliffs outside of Dorchacht. In the distance, if one looks hard enough, they might be able to spot the Black City itself. Besides the storage room of the Coven vanishing in a flash of light and electricity, the device is absent, too. Some of its smaller parts can be found scattered in the craggy grass at your feet, in the roots of trees, as if it completely fell apart the moment that the magic was activated. Whatever you had on your person, when you left? It's all that you have, now. And there's no way back from here. (Notes: Some small reminders - the boats take 2 days to reach Dorchacht, meaning they take 2 days to come back as well, and the teleportation device used by the espionage team is a one-time use only. The espionage team will be able to return to Aefenglom at the end of the month courtesy of some inside help, using a similar device that managed to bring them there in the first place. The Watches can be used on the ship, but are prone to static and dropping calls. Communication is possible from Dorchacht, though voice and video both feel a little muffled.)

II. DORCHACHT It's déjà vu. While Aefenglom is known for its dusk-hued skies, made of lustrous pinks and purples and blues, this city is dreary to the core. The streets are covered in a perpetual fog, not unlike the city you hail from, but thicker, denser, tinged with the flavor of industrial smog from the factories whose spires you can see in the distance. Magitech lights - lanterns above doors, street posts, flickering in the windows you pass - illuminate everything throughout the entire day, as if the sunshine can't reach through the foreboding fog nor the onyx walls. Even the windows are barred, offering a paranoid protection against the outside world. Doors seem hardier, and each building is reinforced and protected in a way that may feel familiar to those that have encountered the protective magic wards. They're heavier, leaving an almost ominous presence that causes unease to hang just as heavy in the air as the smog. The people of this city are just as dreary as the streets, though they do mill about with the same frequency as any city. Those from Aefenglom may recognize familiar faces, and they might find themselves looking twice at you, as if some part of them remembers you as well. Something seems... off, however. There are fewer Monsters in the streets than there were in the dream, though it isn't too hard to catch a glimpse of one here and there. The streets even seem a little more cleaned up than they once were, as one makes their way down them. At the heart of the city, dignitaries will be brought to the Coven. There, they're greeted by a slender and elegant woman, eyes bright and clever, but just as sharp as the red-lined smile that she offers her visitors. "Nerissa Bell," she begins, tone polite if clipped. There's the sense of a woman who won't waste words from her person, and she turns her eyes towards the dignitaries. "You must be the charges she spoke of. Mirrorbound, they call you?" A shallow inclination of her head, barely called respectful, as she smiles wider, in a way that would be kind if knives were made to be dull. "A pleasure. I am Morgana Drummond, head of the Coven here, and I welcome you to my city of Dorchacht, the safest haven against the Cwyld across all of our poor Geardagas." a. THE COVEN Morgana Drummond gives them a quick tour of their facilities, speaking lightly of the curriculum they have here that differs from Aefenglom's own (more of a focus in manipulation spells, be it the sort of commands that have become such a familiar sight to things such as perception and "paths" that can be seen through scrying, the other areas of practice more of "extra" than essentials) as well as allowing them to peek in on some lessons taking place. They won't be able to interact, but it is admittedly of a higher feel than what Aefenglom asks, though it's simply the seriousness of the atmosphere giving that impression. After showing them to where they'll be staying within the Coven's hospitality as well as mentioning the areas of their infirmary, library, and welcoming the Witches to try a hand at their lessons, she and Nerissa part from the characters as a whole to discuss the business of the month. There is a notable increase in guards, both around Morgana's person even within the Coven's walls, as well as the building itself. They seem to be in the business of keeping people on a kind of "railroaded" layout of the Coven building, but can be distracted for a quick peek -- the real help comes from those with triple stars hidden in plain sight, beneath the brims of hats and worn as idly jewelry and easily missed charms. These sympathizers will actively seek those out to speak with them, to let them know that even here there are those that would like to see change brought to Dorchacht, and assist in entering places that Mirrorbound otherwise would not be able to enter. Such as the library here, which contain higher level spells including the enchantments specific to the city walls. The history is just as muddled as it is in the later mentioned public library, the "when"s being vague and the like, but depicts Drummond's rise as the head of the Coven: She came to Dorchacht on a ship hailing from Aefenglom along with a number of other Witches and rose above the rest to become the esteemed leader she is now. Without her, many of the text will agree, Dorchacht would not be as it is now. Those with any notable signs of infection may be asked to step aside and allow Dorchacht's Witches to give them a check up -- better safe than sorry -- and this goes for Witches and Monsters alike. They'll be brought to the double doors that were so heavily secure within the dream, whether they'd like to be or not, and escorted inside. b. THE CITY Unlike the dream, things seem to be more... well-behaved. Auctions have been moved from the pavilion and in its place are genuine vendors to purchase from: Food, clothing, toys, trinkets, protective spell scrolls, all manners of things. There's still Monsters around, a little more tidy than before, but they hold the same stares they had in the dream, pinched expression and disinterested in conversation. There are signs that lead way to auctions if one is truly curious to see the extent of that terror, to gain insight on the situation there, but tailing someone might be hard within the twisting turns of the new bazaar. Another notable part of the city that can be accessed by those dealing in espionage include the barracks if they pose as hopefuls to join their ranks as handlers for their Monsters, which are collared in a familiar way to the dream, and seem reactionary to quick movements -- they're explained to be the essential frontline of what constitutes as a military force, very important, Mirrorbound Monsters beware you not suffer the same fate. The next place one might seek out is the library: While this is all deemed public knowledge, it offers insight into the kind of history and mindset that's been bred the past decade at minimum. Books regarding the dangers of Monsters, how to care and train them, practical spellbooks for those untrained by the Coven proper... The history books themselves are vague in regards to the "when" of things, and seem to be more contemporary in comparison to how old the city feels itself. There's a variety of more cultural knowledge such a cookbooks (including those dealing with monster parts) and floriography (more dour meanings compared to Aefenglom's flurous), but the relevant ones have been noted thusly. c. THE RESISTANCE Whether you're espionage or dignitary, those seeking the Resistance know what to look for: a trio of stars (some worn more openly than others), protests against the city's treatment of Monsters, and dispelling runes on the walls. Once proven that you're friend over foe, they're more than happy to have the assistance of any Mirrorbound in their company: A fight against the current practices is a fight they're for, after all. Riot! Disrupt the peace! The auctions, while a little more downplayed than in the dream, are still going, and the Resistance has good word on where they're being held in the grand city. Their goal? To cause a disturbance big enough to distract, but not big enough to catch Drummond's eye... that said, with her having to play the nice host to Aefenglom's associates within the main building, there's more to get away with. Free the Monsters! Whilst distracted, other members of the Resistance plan to dispel the runes in certain areas and smuggle off what Monsters they can, valuing quantity over quality. While the more mind-broken may resist heavily, it won't be hard to find Monsters of all kinds (save Dragons and Fae, which are notably absent from the auctions and city in general) accepting help to escape, eager to think for themselves once more. Find a way for them to escape the city safely, but know that the docks are heavily guarded in case of stowaways. Free the city! Kind of. A third party of Resistance members are looking to weaken the enchantment on the wall of Dorchacht itself, meaning they'll be looking for those brave enough to tread outside the city and into the Wilde just beyond its protective gates to take a look at and inscribe runes to hopefully diminish the compulsion in place right now. It won't be immediate, but it'll help in the future... just be careful, there's plenty of danger beyond the wall to contend with. As an interesting note, while the Resistances' bonded pairs are definitely unlike Dorchacht's compulsion-based ones, they're not exactly like Aefenglom's either: They call themselves comrades and partners, brothers/sisters in arms, giving it more of an equality forged from the same brass than something to do with convenience. (Notes: Those being willing, or unwilling, participants in the check-ups may reply to the top level there with how visibly infected they are for a special treat! Only for this month.)

III. AEFENGLOM Preparations for Meán Fómhair begin before Nerissa and the dignitaries head off on the 5th, but they seem a little quick even for the ever-festive people of Aefenglom: Apples begin the appear in great quantities to be used for later, some yellowed versus the red ripeness one thinks of when they're ready, there's hay bales tucked safely away for the days of, and there's little conversation to be made save for how things might be going in Dorchacht, though if any of the Mirrorbound try to join in they'll change the subject to Meán Fómhair in a split second, smiles thrown wider than the weeks before. Seems all is not quite as well as they'd like to appear. a. MARKET UP With the Parliament tense and looking westward, there starts to be gradual, but steady, increases in new appearances from some interesting individuals about the city. At face value they're no different than the vendors already found in great quantities, human and Monster alike, but one look at their wares proves different. The goblin market, as it's familiarly called, is somewhat accepted by the Parliament as something allowed to exist as part of their mercantile culture with Coven-approved medicines, alchemical practices, enchantments, so on and so forth, and only somewhat thanks to these known wares. Beneath these, with a dropped word or a curious eye, one can find things that are more than likely not sanctioned by either branch, things the vendors say can sate Monster and Witch alike without need of a Bond, though they decline to include the fact that such things are only temporary and that, like all hits, they'll need to come back for a greater quantity to get the satisfaction they need. Overpriced as they are (due to their private nature, it's high risk, surely they understand), they sell Monster parts of most kinds, Witch's Blood that may or may not be genuine, and what they call "extra strength" potions to mimic the feeling of a temporary bond without needing a second person to partake -- of course, you're welcome to share it, the more the merrier. However, this market hides a darker side, known more to those living among the aristocracy or who have the money and means to it, and characters are more likely to find themselves led there one way or another -- be it kidnapped or tricked, the black market isn't picky about how they drag their targets in. While Aefenglom prides itself in its fairness and equality, as in example with the goblin market not all is what it promises. Nowhere else is this more true than with the black market itself, using techniques familiar in Dorchacht to control their living wares, emboldened by the absence and turned heads of the government while remaining as discreet as they can be, they've ascended from the tunnels beneath Aefenglom to turn old houses into private auctions and the more deserted streets into bazaar-like adventures. Not all of these are unwilling wares, characters may find, and drawn by necessity for their own well-being or for their family's, but it's clear that a greater number are those from the Outer City. b. PROPAVANDALS Unbeknownst to Aefenglom's higher ups, Dorchacht has sympathizers of its own within this city's walls. While Bonds haven't been specifically dissuaded against, given that there's alternatives to the more permanent tethers, not all are in favor of changing completely. It's been ten years since Miss Bell gained her seating, such citizens'll say, and there's been decades prior where they hadn't needed that. That Monsterkind and Witches could be, and sometimes were better off, apart. Home remedies and extra practice, or finding a substitute, was all that was needed. More privately and growing in whispered popularity, that there ought to be more restrictions on the two in general. Once these words have started, both conversations planted as well as encouraged for thoughts already leaning a certain way, small attacks on those Bonded being to occur. They target the main populace and those with connections to the Coven itself, especially the Mirrorbound given Nerissa's alleged responsibility to them, and it seems they're well-practiced in hiding their activities because all investigations done towards the perpetrators, whether done by the Mirrorbound or officials themselves, will lead to only dead-ends outside the City. The culprits are hard to catch on foot, using the environment they'd grown up with to their advantage in escaping any manner of way -- it isn't just humans, but Monsters causing trouble as well -- but it isn't impossible... Just that they refuse anything but their right of silence on the accusations, claiming they'd had no part in anything, regardless of what proof might be found. The attacks and vandalism itself range from harmful messages appearing with magic on walls and doors, vaguely threatening letters written in ink that evaporates in sunlight, to fruit thrown and possessions left in tatters after breaking and entering. They don't stop at residential houses either, aiming for businesses held by those with any connection to the Coven, held by those with Bonds, and seek to cause any number of annoyance and distaste to those they attack. If it weren't for their Bonds, their Coven connections, they wouldn't be treated this way. That's the message they seek to send. c. UNEASY FESTIVITIES Come Septeril 21st, and lasting til the 23rd, Meán Fómhair is tentatively in full swing. The residents of Aefenglom are more on edge than during previous festivals save the red-hued Lithia, even once the first dignitary group has returned and the second left. There's barrels of apples decorating the street corners, but they don't seem as plentiful as they should. The games have a forced cheerfulness about them too, the unaffected being children who gleefully take part in each race, each competition, as well as the doctors with their cure-alls and promises of something to promote the harvest's delight, peddling medicine and medical advice to all who lend an ear with earnest grins and a profit to be made. The medicines are largely placebos with some possible side-effects for those that aren't, such as voice changes and intense cravings for various foods, but they seem to be very popular this year -- there's at least a couple merchants talking up the good fortune Dorchacht's stress has brought this year to one another, quieting down when they catch outsiders eavesdropping. With the continued attacks on those Bonded and Coven-affiliated, with one of their Speakers across the continent and the other sorely wrapped in Parlimentary business dealing with the attacks, the city holds its breath and tries to endure. Tries to be bright and cheerful while keeping obvious supplies behind their counters, to keep fright from their expressions and mind lest it invite the Cwyld to their midst, and ultimately drawing apart from one another in a time where unity is more than needed: Time will tell what actions might sew shut the new wound struck across Aefenglom.

Welcome to September's event log! The questions thread is split into two this time: one for Dorchacht, which can be found HERE, and one for Aefenglom, which can be found HERE. Please keep questions to their respective cities! This'll help both us and your fellow players in sorting information. Additionally, this event is a little special - we've prepare an OOC post to go along with it. Check it out over HERE - don't forget about it, as it'll help us see how things'll progress in the cities!

Comments

[amurder]

[From here he can feel the gazes bearing down on their makeshift stage.

Of course sounds are their forte, but even this up close Salieri can detect the various emotions flitting across the crowd as he steps forward and extends his hand towards Amadeus.]

You are cruel, Maestro. [He murmurs to Amadeus, his own demure smile threatening to spread further. Yes, it was lullabies, wasn't it? That's all these people have been allowed to hear... when was the last time any of their hearts had been shaken? When was the last time a rhythm or a chorus struck them so profoundly that they could not keep it out of their minds for days?

Probably never.

Salieri drops the miniature piano into the Witch's palm.] You can't mean to play anything grand on such a small instrument, Herr Mozart.

[From around them are low murmurs of agreement. What are they planning?]

[fordeath]

[ even the simple act of taking the piano is a grand show for amadeus, tossing his arm up and throwing his coat out with a flourish in the process. ]

Patience, my Bonded. [ apparently radical in that, too. he's having far too much fun, perhaps dangerously so... but if the suppressed people of dorchacht can find some sense of liberation in their display, maybe law enforcement will simply chalk up his antics and his words to mere theatrics.

following that, amadeus sits the piano on the ground — directly across his own so they faced each other. from his coat, he produces his baton and takes a step back. ] Daring art can have beginnings in the most modest of places. Don't forget this. [ from the seriousness of his tone it's clear he's not quite acting. what's more — he's not speaking to salieri. ]

You simply need a little ... spark.

[ and with that, a twirl of his baton activates the runes etched atop the small piano. they glow, sparkling colors surrounding the instrument in magic as it suddenly and brilliantly — explodes in size with a growing spell.

what one was a petite model of a keyboard expands into a full-sized, standing piano before their very eyes. amadeus has even given it a deep red lacquer job to contrast with his own's amber hue. ]

I suspect we'll be able to give them a show now, ey, Kapellmeister?

[amurder]

[It's difficult, to say the least, to not outwardly react to that unsuspecting endearment.

My Bonded.

The significance of the term comes so abruptly to him that he nearly misses his unspoken cue to step back. He leaves a wide enough space between them, but even this far he can clearly hear the words Amadeus enchants and casts over the crowd. No, those words weren't meant for him— and he can only hope that with this lasting impression these weary folk were listening carefully.

He smiles against the brilliance unfolding before them— and finally releases a fleeting laugh as the piano swells to full size. Ah, he should not be so ready to tease— but their faces—] Spettacolare!

Truly astounding, Herr Mozart. [He gives a few hearty claps before returning once again, taking his place in front of his newly grown piano. He's beaming now- standing tall and straight with his tail curled high above the ground. He glances to Amadeus.] Yes, this will do just fine.

Now, then... are we ready, Maestro? [Because he is.

Right now, he's ready for anything.]

[fordeath]

[ it's a tad cruel of him to take all the credit for the display, given the witches of the resistance were the ones to delicately carve the runes for this moment, but ... oh well. amadeus deigns to look pleased all the same — stops to quickly bow — and bounds backwards towards his own piano with a smile on his face. ]

I have something perfect in mind, just for this moment! [ his voice grows louder as he makes his way towards the bench. before he sits, however, he hits salieri's piano with a subtle spell — an enhancement similar to the one on his, meant to amplify the standing piano's volume and timbre to sound like that of a grand.

finally, he sits. ] Can you guess what it is, Herr Salieri? [ all show, again. they discussed what piece to play prior to this, after all. ]

[amurder]

[Salieri has already taken a seat at his bench by the time Amadeus spins yet another web of light and color.

By now the crowd has begun to grow significantly— and little by little he takes in the mixed reactions varying from horrified to fascination. The younger ones flock closer to the stage, and from here Salieri can hear their speeding heart beats... fluttering hesitantly like so many small birds. He hopes— no, he knows they will unleash something wondrous here today.

He's fully prepared for whatever may happen.] Oh?

[He tries not to let the dramatic pause take too much into effect. Salieri huffs and returns to his piano.] Ah, of course.

A perfectly fitting selection, Herr Mozart. [And his voice rises again, just as the crowd falls into an expectant pause.]

Following your lead... Maestro.

[fordeath]

[ a single giggle escapes him before he allows salieri's last phrase to sit as their closing dialogue. a perfectly acted introduction.

and now ... for the music.

a look of jubilant determination sets on his expression as he brings his baton up for the final time. adding to the endless bars of magic cast here, amadeus begins to weave illusions. auditory illusions — the winds and the strings that complete the concerto — start them off. at the direction of his hand and his baton both, the invisible instruments sing to life and follow the score as though they had ghostly players to read them.

just at the moment in which the piano is set to cue, amadeus finishes gesturing out the spell, allowing for the instruments to accompany them all the way through as he slips the baton back into his coat and — lays his fingers across the keys.

he makes a point not to look at salieri when they both begin – placing his complete and whole-hearted trust that he will hear that faithful answer when he calls. ]

[amurder]

[They had spoke of this part as well, but Salieri is still caught off guard when Amadeus's raises his baton for a last time.

He doesn't gasp or gape like those in the crowd does, but he finds himself immersed all the same in the luminous warping of light and sound. It's unlike anything he's ever seen... and he can only hope to witness more of Amadeus's charms and enchantments as they pursue this new path together.

Together.

His wings lift slightly as they bristle in anticipation. Just as Amadeus returns to his piano without a glance towards him, so does Salieri rest his fingers upon his keyboard and focuses his attention on what will come next. No, this comes as easy as breathing— attention, diction. Salieri knows... no one else could play besides Amadeus like this. No one but him.

A true, bare emotion rises within his chest. That is I. Antonio Salieri.

The winds rise slowly as the first pitch of sound opens the proverbial scene to the group. At the first sound of music their audience shifts anxiously, unsure if they'd like to step closer or distance themselves from the sounds.

No matter.

Salieri's fingers come down upon the keys. It's far too easy... far too easy to follow this score. To enjoy this. And he is so enjoying this.]

[fordeath]

[ the stage, the piece, the magic — them. as they take turns expertly laying out the themes of the uplifting concerto, it all makes a poignant statement.

not only on the limitless nature of magic, restricted by the texts of the coven, but on the emotional force of music, the freedom in art, and ...

... the empowerment of the two of them working together for all to hear.

amadeus almost wishes it weren't such an unheard of thing. it's secondary in his mind, after all, that the sight of working with a chimera — not only his bonded, his friend, but even (imagine it!) his stately superior in life — as a witch was a radical act.

but it is, and the image of the two of them on stage, taking turns leading this magnificent duet is borderline uncomfortable to some of the dorchacht natives in the audience. in some ways, salieri was still following his lead, of course, as much as the conductor-musician relationship demands, but that can't really be helped... he's the genius who wrote the piece, after all.

what's more, the happiness on salieri's face – one he intently sneaks a glimpse of from over the gleaming top board – says it all. they're equals. and he chose this piece specifically to convey such a message – to create a dialogue where each of them takes an equal amount of time singing, leading, listening.

so much can be conveyed without words, and amadeus knows — by the way that several in the audience shift uncomfortably and yet don't dare to speak or tear their eyes away — that he– they can open dorchacht minds with this duet alone. ]

[amurder]

[As Amadeus's notes protrude from his side as though pouring from an endless fountain, Salieri's tiptoe close behind— more carefully set sounds joining in the rise of music that overtakes the area then.

Every so often he'll peer from above his instrument and embed the images of their audience into his mind. In the brief glimpses he steals he sees a long and conflicting range of untouched passions and interests glinting in the gazes of those watching. Some are pressing their hands to their mouths, some are leaning against one another— as though they've succumbed to the welcoming sounds by their own accord. Whatever the look on their faces, Salieri is certain of one thing:

They will remember this. For their entire lives, they will remember.

And so will he.

His fingers fly across the keys, relentless as the pace quickens and approaches the gradual severity that is the middle section. His lips part, his heart races. Behind him his wings unfurl and spread farther than they have before.

And soon he glances to Amadeus as well— the spread of his lips almost helpless as he watches the Maestro, the living genius of God's love both playing and orchestrating beside him. It's miraculous.]

[fordeath]

[ by the middle section, all inhibitions are thrown to the wind. led by the music, the previously cagey responses to the piece gives way to open, helpless enjoyment, seen in the wide-eyed — sometimes open-mouthed — visages of the audience. there's magic, after all, not only in the phrases they weave, but in the glances they share, the energy exploding from their racing hearts and dancing fingertips. amadeus makes it a point to imbue the enchantments into the notes themselves, making it impossible to tell whether it's truly the spell or the brilliance of the music itself that bewitches their listeners.

it's natural magic, a kind he's practiced all his life, bestowed on him by the gods, delivered by the muses for the humble purpose of uplifting humanity.

and they could be accomplishing no less than that on this stage. hearts captured, all members of the audience are completely stolen through the quieter sections, through the gently building sections that follow and all through the journey to the finale. this piece, performed on this stage, is not merely a suggestion, but a message, an example.

and after this, not a single one will never forget how the spirit of life,

or of love manifests ever again.

they'll remember this golden spark of freedom long after they've returned home under grey skies, as a crack in the suffocating atmosphere in dorchacht.

as they come to the end, the two pianos exchange their last phrases. they speak to each other in hopeful goodbyes, as though promising to return to each other again before the last keys are struck.

in the final seconds, amadeus lifts his baton and bolts to his feet, standing with a purpose as the strings burst to life and fill the auction hall with blooming fanfare. everything is brought together at once, before it finally — ends.

silence. his chest heaves. and before long — the sound of scattered, hesitant applause rolls in.

clearly taking it as some kind of victory, amadeus jumps from his seat and bounds towards center stage. some members of the resistance, settled inconspicuously behind everyone else, lead others in raising the volume of their cheers as amadeus swiftly and steeply bows with a flourish of his coat.

to that, amadeus rushes across the stage then, swiftly taking his bonded by the wrist and dragging him closer to the front where he presents him to the audience – who so enjoyed his contribution to the piece. for it could not have been done without him. the resistance members want to be certain salieri, particularly, receives his due, and clap especially hard and loud when amadeus pulls both their arms down in a second bow.

meanwhile, the maestro is gleaming. wide and flushed and proud, sweat beading his forehead and neck. the blue-green spark of his eyes scan the disquieted audience before finally resting on salieri.

suddenly, (he can't help it) as though possessed by the music itself, amadeus makes one final use out of that captured arm as he pulls the chimera closer, and — abruptly — kisses him. there is an unmistakable gasp from the audience this time, causing amadeus to giggle helplessly. oops. at least he makes it brief. ] ... Now let's make ourselves scarce before the authorities arrest for excessive enthusiasm, Kapellmeister. [ hushed, full of breath and brimming, brimming with magic. ]

[amurder]

[When Salieri had returned to Dorchacht he did not expect the slow crawl of unpleasantness to creep into his throat at the sight of the bleak streets. Focused on his task at hand, he pushed back the sensations of phantom pressure against his neck, at the tips of his ears.

No, he would not acknowledge the dissonance this place had attempted to weave into his soul... he would only carry with him the strum of long clawed fingers through his hair and ears, diligently pressing the pain away. And even then upheaval that rose in him then never fully subsided- it had only pulled back slightly, a wavering tide of his unfulfilled desires and affections receding once again into his mind.

But the truth remains the same. Amadeus saved him that day.

And now looking upon the Maestro with the applause of their audience drumming in his head, his chest heaving and yet light— he knows he's done it again. Amadeus... has saved him again.

Almost numb with the realization Salieri allows himself to be pulled forward. His body swiftly goes through the motions– joins Amadeus in their last sweeping bow and allows his humbled marveling to show through the wide arcs of his tail. Salieri turns to him, if only to allow it to reveal in the face as well the gratitude he feels in that moment, the admiration held for the man before him—

—and with the press of their lips, he is renewed.

Sweat, skin, breath; Unknowingly yet greedily he indulges in the split second of contact before it's taken away from him. Salieri stares slack-jawed- in the way one does when they've come across something so dazzling, so—

... Scarce, then?

He lets out a trembling breath. Salieri's flickering red gaze becomes a full on blaze.] Yes.

[With no other mention or glance to the crowd or their allies mingled within them the Chimera takes Amadeus's hand in his own and squeezes tight. He pulls Amadeus out of the center, the clamor of shouts and continued applause a mere haze around them as he focuses on parting from the group and taking them both away.

The skin of his hand feels as though its been set aflame. By his mere touch, by his words and music... Amadeus has set him alight.

He takes them further into the streets and deeper still.]

[fordeath]

[ with that, the two of them must seem to promise to make the lives of the resistance members miserable in the aftermath. left behind are the pianos, an empty improvised stage, an audience that — despite their gasps and hesitance — cannot take their eyes from it, and a deep-rooted sense that they've undermined the values of the black city with their art.

amadeus doesn't doubt the reality. that, once the charms of his enchantments have worn away, the well-off citizens of dorchacht may seek to preserve its rigidity with force; to make an example of the two dignitaries who made such a buzz. thus, as they walk, the witch casts illusions behind them to lead any who may be following off of their trail.

it's a good thing that the magic is coursing through him so sonorously, and the spells come natural as his heart beats and his lungs respire, for he is lost otherwise. he allows salieri to whisk him away completely, tipsy still on the elevated phrases of the concerto and the (literal) magic of the kiss they shared. ]

Salieri, you were incredible! How did you know it so well? Even for the imperial Kapellmeister himself, you– [ —embodied its spirit completely, he means to say, but breathing has yet to come down from panting.

yes, it was as though salieri had known the performance for centuries. ] And your wings, [ so proudly displayed for all of dorchacht to see ] you were bold, my friend. Ah, do you know where you're going? [ he laughs, breathless. ]

[amurder]

[If this were any other time, in any other place Salieri would have defended himself more righteously. Perhaps he would have demanded an encore of sorts, or even an entirely new piece to prove that his worthiness did not stem from Amadeus's brilliance alone. No, those sounds produced from his dexterous fingers were of his own spirit... one that had been locked away and sealed far beneath the numerous layers of rage and hate enveloping him.

If it were any other time he would have been glad- ecstatic- to play alongside Amadeus again. All night, if they could.

But right now there is a new type of vigor coursing through him. It makes him equally windless and yet has him weaving effortlessly through corner-ways and alleys.] Do not be so surprised, Amadeus!

[Despite the pleased rebuttal Salieri seems distracted as he tugs them along, his head whipping about as though he were looking for something specific—] If I could not manage such a performance then I would have no right to bear such a title— Ah.

[And there— hidden between two looming buildings sits a small quaint gazebo. More than likely it was a seating area for the small cafe beside it, but evidence of its dilapidation suggests it had been abandoned quite some time ago. Now vines and shrubbery of all kinds decorate its exterior.

Salieri takes them there. Its steps creak beneath his weight.] Amadeus...

I— [Whatever words of esteem and praise falls upon his lips as he turns to face the Maestro once again. With their hands still linked he pulls Amadeus closer- every inch of his beastly self brimming with magic, with emotion. His free hand lifts to graze his knuckles across Amadeus's cheekbone, ever so slightly—

—and the spark of that touch alone breaks him.

Taking Amadeus's chin in hand he meets him in the middle in a far more deep, searing kiss. His fingers spread along his jaw, capture him and hold him as he gasps and delves deeper— chasing that spiking magic strumming now between them both.]

[fordeath]

[ ah, striking that nerve was unintentional, but there's something dangerous about the heat in salieri's voice that doesn't make him regret it. the quiet, garden-like summer house the chimera has dragged them to is quaint and overgrown and perfectly deserted. amadeus remembers the last time the avenger attempted to corner him here, in aefenglom. the deep thicket setting of their first meeting signaled his doom, then. all instances of the chimera isolating him before that could only have been an attempt on his life.

and now ... now? it surely is still something just as precarious (he leans into that hand too quickly, lids his eyes too eagerly when he looks up at him), but not as lethal.

and yet he swears he sees the light and the stars when their mouths meet. magic — literally — explodes between them, lain in the nature of their bond, the harmony of the music they just performed, and frankly – in the angle the chimera takes his chin and bends him in. what follows is a chorus of gasps and moans that may be too much even for this remote abode. ] Salieri— [ he begs between breaths, gripping the kapellmeister's front. senses hopelessly disoriented, amadeus laughs, all breath and arousal. ]

You're at the proper height to make any woman swoon with a kiss. [ so he says... tugging at the man's lapels and keeping him close until he feels the width of a large, wooden beam against his back. his voice disappears further with every word until it's nothing but a rushed whisper against salieri's lips. ] And your Bondeds even more so.

[amurder]

[Here in the innermost depths of a city bent on curbing the instincts and desires of Monsters... Salieri feels himself become unraveled.

All too easily he pulled into the orbit of Amadeus's thrumming energy— caught in the heat of their mutual magnetic stirring. Without even realizing he's followed Amadeus without barely parting for breath, and once he realizes where he's trapped the Maestro—

Ah, no. Once he realizes where Amadeus has trapped him.

He feels his breath sucked in with those words. His mouth hovers briefly for a split second before he deigns to nuzzle closer- his lips brushing across his cheekbone.] And?

Are you, Wolfgang? [He whispers against his jaw, his mouth beginning a bruising trail of kisses south.] Swooning?

[Gloved hands slide greedily across his hips. God, Amadeus feels perfect against him. His neck, his fingers, his body—

An abrupt growl rolls from his throat. For as good as it is, he's forced to bend even lower now to reach the spaces he wishes to kiss- to bite. Almost unthinkingly his fingers suddenly clamp down, cradling Amadeus's thighs fully for a moment before effortlessly lifting him up. With the lift he parts those legs snug around his waist. Salieri's eyes meet Amadeus's.

And finally he descends again. Punctuated by his harsh panting Salieri sears kisses across his Bonded's throat, his collarbone. He presses Amadeus against the pillar, attempting to meld even closer— lining their bodies together in such a way that Salieri can only tightly squeeze the weight in his hands in response.] You were astounding, Wolfgang. Miraculous. The look on their faces...!

You were incredible. [The last word comes out a soft, emboldened snarl. His teeth swiftly sink down.] Nh, Wolfgang...!