yes, i admit my defeat (semi-open!)

[amurder]

Who: Salieri, Amadeus and y o u.
When: Late May, full moon.
Where: The Shopping District
What: First changes.
Warnings: Mild body horror, not so-mild mental distortions.



— closed to Amadeus (quam)

[The moon hangs her body against the dusk- exalted, luminous.

She at first compelled Salieri to keep to the safety of his new home, away from lights and noise. It was a tempting offer given his recent illness, and a mercy when he felt the tumultuous energy of his own body finally fitting into place. Despite that ready comfort, despite the urge to stay inside and shield away from what was inevitably coming to take place-

—He takes his coat and leaves.

The freshly swept roads and color-tinted sidewalk of the District lead him to a bordered music shop with fanciful musicians painted along the walls. Trumpeters and violinists pose within its windows and inside a seamless phonograph fills the shop with a mild concerto consisting of strings. Salieri's demeanor barely warranted even the most subtle glance and like smoke he glided through each room with a haunted, hooded gaze. Patrons of the store come and go, the hour wanes into night. One can still hear the phonograph playing merrily as the store illuminates its showrooms and light candles with flicking wrists.

But another sound carries just beneath the merriment.

The gradual crescendo of keys float up from a distant corner of the shop. A small hallway past the winds leads to a grand parlor room with ghostly curtains swaying in the night breeze. In the middle of the room Salieri sits, hunched over the shop's only grand piano. His hands diligently follow each note to memory, strike each key with a flow that seems nearly mechanical. The music is low enough that its managed to go undetected all this time, but another sound is steadily climbing its way above that pitch.

It's the sound of Salieri's ragged breath as he plays and clings to the keys as though his survival depended on the sounds they produced.

Something heavy and sharp scrapes across the polished floorboard. There are muted noises now— crackling bones, fabric tearing. Something beneath the piano grows until it can barely fit. The thud of a great, weighty paw resonates as it slams down on the pedals beneath the bench. Claws protruding from the fur catch the wood, graze it with razor-like tips and leave wide carved streaks in their wake. Salieri stifles a groan— keeps the noise lodged in his throat and lowers his head even more. Sweat drips from his bangs and splatter on the ivory keys.

There's certainly no doubt about it now— with Salieri's pants in shreds and newly grown legs bent painfully under the bench, it's all too clear. He is changed— indefinitely.

And he continues to play— until he suddenly doubles over what seems like a sharp spasm of his chest.] Gngh...!

You've— you've finally answered, h... haven't you, Signore?

[Salieri lets out a wheezing laugh, thick and hollow at the same time.] Damn you— I still— I still have my fingers. You cannot take that away, aha.... gh—


— OPEN.

[And then life goes on!

Somehow, at least. For Salieri, this night certainly started off a bit differently. Painful, elongated limbs aside, it seems the full moon simply hasn't had enough of manipulating the dour Maestro. He's made quick use of his new furred legs and for good reason, considering the glares the locals were giving him. It's quite obvious that Monsters aren't welcome on the more posh side of town— newly changed ones more so. Salieri makes himself scarce, barely keeping an eye on the trail itself as he focuses on simply walking. The rough pads beneath his paws barely register the texture of the road underneath them— it's unsettling, to say the least, but so long as he can make it back to his room then all should be well.

But of course, it simply isn't that easy.] Ah...!

[God, not again.

Salieri shuts his eyes against the splitting headache, sways as he narrowly avoids running right into a couple in his way. He can feel the wary stares and hear the whispers— Really? Out here? No, don't look- those things are bad luck, you know how it is.

How easy it would be to turn and snarl at them.

He almost considers it too, whipping his head around to scan which eyes were currently pinned on him. He feels a growl build in the back of his throat—

and feels his head jerked to the side.] —!?

[He's... caught on something. But not just something— a plant. A long, thick vine protruding from an apothecary's stall has reached out and entangled itself around him.

Or rather, his newly curled horns which he... didn't even realize had taken form. He takes a moment (or two) to consider the idea that he'll more than likely become an abomination by the end of the day, then finally considers on how to untangle himself from this extremely stubborn vine. It clings tight, as though it wants him to stay. With a long suffering sigh Salieri reaches for his dagger.

And the vine clings on tighter.] Nn! Wretched little—

[There's no possible way this blasted thing is alive... is it?]

Comments

[amurder]

! [Silvery brows shoot up as Amadeus- quite literally- springs to life before his eyes. Well, he was wondering where all that energy went... and now it seems to have made itself known (finally).] ...? "Upset" me?

[His tone is dismissive, almost callous in the way he tests those words. He sets his fork down again, proper and final—] Worse than that, Amadeus.

It infuriated me to no end. [The sharp edge lacing his tone says it all. Finally, he can let out his true feelings on the whole matter.] But what else was there to expect in a place that primarily focuses on what it sees and not what it hears? For such a world to rely on the constant flow of magic to sustain itself... there's very little inspiration to be found here. Senza vita.

It's simply too pitiful for words. [He scowls. And once again, they've met in the middle for this one constant in their continuous lives.] But... I have a feeling that's not all you have to say on the matter, Amadeus.

[fordeath]

[ for all of a moment, he truly thinks that perhaps the man in grey was successful in hiding that passion of antonio salieri's, far away and never to be seen beyond its terrible and warped battle variation.

... so as salieri continues, amadeus can't help the amused little smile that lights his face. ] Ah. And there he is! The strict, Imperial Kapellmeister.

Your words bite, Excellency, as usual. And a little sharper now that you've got the fangs [ he thumbs at his own, much less impressive canines, exposed in his grin ] to back them up. [ a short giggle. ]

Ah, but you're right. You do know me well, Salieri. [ he decides to say, just before moving on. ]

[amurder]

[And with that he feels himself snort.]

Hmph. So long as they don't prevent me from enjoying my desserts... I have no complaints.

[And if they just so happen to make him look all the more fearsome then that's simply something else he cannot help.

With only a small piece of his cake left Salieri decides to wait until Amadeus has finished with his decorative tirade to end his moment of indulgence.] Well then? Let us hear it, Herr Mozart.

[fordeath]

[ oh. well, don't mind him for a brief moment, because that reminds him that he still has his coffee here. it's easy to get distracted when music is involved. he takes one long sip before continuing — ]

Well, the truth is, I went to Parliament. [ what else does a masterless servant do in a world without opera, after all? ] About the possibility of reopening one of the theaters. If no one else was interested in running it — I'd get a loan, of course — and run it myself.

Ahahaha, I don't have the cleanest reputation in the world, but I've no record here, right? [ listen to how completely free from guilt he says all that. ] Well, something seems to have tipped them off, for the representative there may as well have become an immovable bull. She drilled me rather brutally with questions, and warned me that all the performances would be heavily monitored — and worst of all: altered if necessary.

[ censorship ... his apparently immortal enemy. ]

She was hellbent on discouraging me away from it the entire time. I was really just inquiring for the future, so I committed to nothing and left. [ over the top of his coffee cup, amadeus sighs a heavy, frustrated sigh. ] It was a horrible interaction, Salieri! It seems there's some conscious effort to keep the theater art suppressed, and I've no idea why! [ oh, now he seems pretty upset. this is really beginning to feel too much like he's back home in vienna again – struggling forever with the avenues of his passion. ]

[amurder]

[Ah, and there it is.

Somehow, even after becoming intertwined with Amadeus's line of fate, Salieri still thought to foolishly believe the composer would remain idle during their time here. Why was it that he chose to think such things? To avoid needless friction between himself and the Maestro once more, consisting of words and debates?

... Or perhaps he was simply too afraid of becoming wrapped up once again in Amadeus's passion.

Just as he sits and listens now he feels the reciprocating swell of indignation at the Maestro's words. Altered performances. Suppressed performances. Was there no place safe from the tasteless guile of the politicians? Was there truly no world in which music could breathe without having restraints before it could draw its first breath?

Never mind that Amadeus actually went on his own to seek Parliament... the reception he was given leaves a far bitter taste in his mouth.] And knowing the delicate operations of politics, I doubt you will for a while, Amadeus.

[Salieri sighs. So much to be felt from one simple exchange... it truly feels as though they've returned to Vienna— and the sensation is both surreal and bittersweet. Ah, he must keep himself afloat...] Really, though. To think you went to Parliament by yourself. Yourself! One man against a cabinet filled with high noses and stuffed necks.

[Despite himself, and despite the situation- the Kapellmeister cracks a slight, crooked smile. That is too like you, Maestro.]

Well, [He begins closing his cake box.] Now that you received your answer, I suppose you'll have to work within their guidelines somehow.

[fordeath]

[ once again, he feels as if salieri is hung up on the completely wrong part of what he said here!

and yet, somehow, he doesn't mind... a little huff of a laugh escaping him, made of something quiet and ancient: humility. the imperial kapellmeister, so diplomatic, so stately – the perfect mediator between the powers that be and the flurrying storm of this genius' creative passion.

perhaps there are some things they truly can't escape, servant or not. as it always has from the older man, that calm and objective reaction serves to mellow his mood a little, and hold him back, as not to get too overexcited. he leans forward on his knee, conceding humbly but playfully. ] I suppose I'm used to it.

[ but ... "you'll have to work within their guidelines somehow" ... he sighs deep afterword. ] ... Used to both things, in the end.

Ugh, I shouldn't have to accommodate stupid rules anymore, though! Well — I never should have had to, I'm a genius! But it's especially frustrating now. [ the huff he lets out is a pouty one, before he takes another, grumbly sip from his coffee. then, he looks up, quirking a brow at the avenger. ] What about you, Salieri? Don't you want to write for the theater at all?

[amurder]

[Despite the way Salieri calmly finishes tidying up and seems to allow Amadeus's words bounce off him entirely... he agrees, he truly does. They did their share of diplomatic favors, after all. They paid their dues to the censorship that would eventually tighten its choke hold on theater— saw it towards the end and contributed the best that they could.

So the fact that they are once again faced with the same dilemma... the fates surely are laughing at them, aren't they?

And perhaps him even more so—] —Write?

[The word comes quieter than any other he's spoken so far. It seems almost entirely too ridiculous for Amadeus to even suggest such a thing. Him? Return to writing? To composing?

(Yes, ridiculous, isn't it? A little voice hisses. You know very well you are no longer that man—)] ...

[After a brief second of tense muscles and a locked jaw, Salieri finally eases and shakes his head.] This is not about me, Herr Mozart. You've cast the first stone and now know your limitations. What little we know of Parliament we know from what they've allowed us to see.

In my opinion... it's best not to garner too much of their attention. [Salieri's eyes close. It's as though the words were being forced from his mouth. He knows, he understands the frustrations Amadeus feels all too well... but that was then, and this is now.

He is merely grateful that he is able to talk to the composer so casually. Why press his— their luck?] Do you understand, Maestro?

[fordeath]

[ it's disappointing, to say the least. he imagined within him a growing flame of purpose flared to life, briefly waning when he sees that his fellow composer's was nothing but smoldering ash. did they not share this after all? must he go this alone, in the end?

after all that they've revealed to one another ... after everything tonight? amadeus frowns at salieri, a beat of silence passing between them. ]

No. [ he finally says, looking away. defiant, like a child. ] I don't understand.

[ in theory, he knows what's holding salieri back: the sheer uncertainty of his nature, his status as a servant and what this new world is doing to him. what he doesn't understand is why, if salieri had the opportunity, here and now, to pursue music if even for just one moment before the madness took him again – a year, half, a month, a week, a day! – he wouldn't take it? he can hardly sympathize when, in his life, he threw himself into those haunting, sleepless nights for the glory of music and music alone. ]

I can't stand for this. You shouldn't either! We're artists, Salieri, not politicians — we have a more fulfilling purpose to serve, and a duty to serve it. [ but ... maybe he's the only one who feels that way. yes, he never really was like any other artist, was he?

amadeus scoffs, resigning then to speak only for himself. ] How am I meant to enrich this world if theater as a whole is in shambles? I refuse to be censored. [ yet, how to go about it? ... ] I'll have to think of something.

[amurder]

[Amadeus— his words, his actions, his anger— it all strikes Salieri like a tempest strikes waves into seaside cliffs. He couldn't promise anything to him now, no sooner than he could promise anything to himself. There would be little point in stirring up the composer even more than he already is... there is nothing he could promise just yet.

Maybe soon, but not now. Salieri feels his fingers curl deeper into his palms, his dark gaze lowering as he feels himself submerged into hopelessness.

That is, until he hears—] 'Something'?

[Bit by bit, that morose mood sharpens into something cautious.] Amadeus, by staying away from Parliament I did not mean think of an alternative. I still suggest you keep to their standards if must.

[Don't... do anything they may notice. Amadeus better be listening!!] Am I right? [He needs to hear him say it!]

[fordeath]

[ he remembers shared stories of small scale childhood rebellion. descriptions of broken spinets, tales of violated curfews and insolently blunt remarks of the town's organist — all motivated by a true, unabashed love for music that amadeus recognized immediately, knew like an old friend. between the laughter and the snide jokes made at their mutual librettist's expense. as they finally, after being released from the unforgiving and all-seeing hold of the viennese courts, saw eye to eye.

he knew then that salieri wasn't entirely the rigid, unforgiving man that his position made him out to be. he wasn't clueless in the ways of music – his sense for pure, divine talent, as it turned out, as potent as his own. he thought, then, that he had an admirer in salieri, sympathetic to the plight of an artist who wrote for a deaf public.

he hoped that if the ex-kapellmeister had a chance to help him now, that he would. in the end, he doesn't blame him for not doing so, given the circumstances of his spirit origin, and the dismantled state of the theatrical world here. it's an intimidating endeavor to tackle an entire nation's attitude on art and the societal rules of expression.

but, in his opinion ... that's what an artist is meant to do. and if salieri means not only to refuse to help, but to stop him completely ... to lecture him and discourage him? then has this man become any better than the pompous officials he was just mocking? maybe he should consider that things are fundamentally different now, and that salieri's unruly passion is wholly in the past.

amadeus closes his eyes for a moment, contemplating all this, and the answer he wishes to give the man, before he finally speaks up. ] No.

In fact, you're completely wrong, Salieri.

If you believe after all this time that I'll let my work be butchered by idiots, or sit merely in my head unperformed, then you're a fool. ... —Ah, oops. [ he frowns, at salieri then away. at himself. at all of this. ] Well, I haven't changed, you know. I'll always be this way — impudent, obstinate, incorrigible! [ that's his excuse. but salieri has to see, that he can only ever be utterly dedicated to music, whatever that may mean. ]

But I no longer have to worry about being in debt, or dying. I don't have a wife or kid to provide for either! I'm a composer and a Servant with the chance of a lifetime. [ as he speaks, the heat simmers down inside him, until he's considering all things as a matter of fact. because really, it is. just the nature of things, and the nature of himself. he glances at salieri now, eyes searching for some understanding in the other man's expression. ] Salieri, you should know that if I can make music without having to kiss the ass of another slimy statesman that I'll do it. Unquestionably.

1/2

[amurder]

[As he sits and listens— waits and braces for the change in pressure surrounding the tense atmosphere between them... Salieri realizes he is watching an Amadeus from long past.

Ah, perhaps that is not the way to express it. He blames the creeping nostalgia, thinly masked familiarity in their words that makes him relive these conversations from centuries ago. He remembers it all too well— sees himself with his back straight, arms crossed as he patiently listens to a ranting Amadeus. The anger and unrestrained distress in his voice reflects the tirades they shared before all this, before the discovery of Singularities and the capabilities that would come with becoming a Servant. Salieri detects the beginnings of Amadeus's scathing indignation, the sharp edge of it cutting through his words as though he meant to cut through the very air itself—

—then you're a fool. And as naturally as his own passion is stirred, so is his own anger and retaliation. Ah, but he mustn't focus on that. Even now Amadeus plays a dangerous game, flaunts all of his fluctuating emotions for everyone to see—

And knows not what Salieri is capable of taking in.] Amadeus—

[But the Maestro continues and near the end of it Salieri feels his own teeth grinding. The hairs at the nape of his neck along with his new appendages stand on end. Wrong... wrong, he says!!

Does this man... have no inkling of fear? Of reservation or caution? Anger churns hot in his stomach, boils and steams through him as he looks up at Amadeus— heedless Amadeus, selfish, incorrigible Amadeus! And even has he thinks this he's reminded: Salieri always knew of the words used to describe the man before him— such underhanded, muttered things behind pristine gloves and sneering lips. How he despised their filthy gossip, their blatant jealously and animosity towards Amadeus, who dared to—

—] ...

[...

Salieri's gloved hand comes up to his mouth. For a single, silent moment of befuddlement he replays those last hardy words in his mind. "—I'll do it. Unquestionably."

He... Amadeus...

... to think with just those words, he stirred up such intensity inside him. Unthinkingly, without lifting a single finger, he brought back the very moment when Salieri realized Amadeus was too fearless for his own good, too brazen and impudent for anyone to truly understand... even at times, himself.

Without realizing, Amadeus- in that moment- truly made Salieri feel as though he were a mere man once again. A mere musician... a soul taken up again and again by his violate love of music and disregard for authority and everything else.


And all it took was for him to call me a fool.]

[amurder]

[His hand presses tighter against his mouth. Head lowering slightly, Salieri keeps his response silent until a shaky exhale manages to escape through his fingers. His shoulders quake— from emotion, from the pressure welling up within him, threatening to combust—

—combust with laughter, that is.] Pffthehehe....hahaha...! Hahahaha!

[Hefty shakes of his shoulders finally release the hoarse barks of laughter that escape him. The very action of it exerts his energy, leaves him struggling to catch his breath as he shakes his head.] Amadeus.

You... are truly beyond incorrigible. [With minimal effort he slowly lifts himself off the steps and stands to full height.] And I must admit, that frankly... I would prefer you no other way.

Ah, scusi. Perhaps I wouldn't forgive you if you were any other way. [A slow, tired smile spreads Salieri's lips.] Now there is no doubt in my mind. You are that man I knew... the one I heard above all others.

And I am... [A hand silently spreads across his own collarbone.] ... Salieri. I must be Salieri... for you to sway me so effortlessly.

Honestly. [A slow huff and another shake of his head. Finally, he turns to the Maestro— every bit of that dark humor reflecting in his gaze.] I suppose if I wish to hear that music once again, I'll simply have to go along.

We'll find a way through the loopholes... but it will take time, I imagine. Be patient, Amadeus. [Although, whose to say Amadeus should take his word for it now? Salieri understands well enough his first response was unsavory... but will Amadeus believe him now?] And until then... I'll be on your side.

reviving this for bean touch

[fordeath]

[ with the rise of his temper, he expects the reflection of salieri's own to increase in magnitude. they were both incredibly stubborn creatures when it came down to it – immovable in their ways and they rose the ranks of courtly popularity and public perception respectively because of it. he's not foolish enough to believe their personalities wouldn't clash and continue to clash on this point. salieri, like his father, was a prudent man, a cautious man, content to stay within sets of written and unwritten limits both if it meant a secure position.

amadeus ... had never been that way. no — advice like that has its place, of course, but never in a world that censors theater to this degree. amadeus is prepared, then, to continue to argue salieri on this point when he inevitably scolded him again, allowed his anger to flare, when.......—

the man .... laughs? ] —?!

[ the vibration of that laughter dislodges all the fight from his heart and replaces it with sheer ... confusion! he watches the man, stunned (and when salieri stands without pants, he's inclined to look away) ] Wait... Salieri– [ and takes the rare, speechless moment from himself to listen. until salieri has said all he's said, each word striking him harder than the last. ]

Do you ... mean that? You understand very well what you're saying, don't you ... ? You haven't succumbed to lunacy, have you? [ there are two full moons here, but ...

"i am salieri," he says! so easily! as though the avenger hadn't spent the entire span of his servant existence battling that question! it was the obvious conclusion from the very beginning, but still! "i'll simply have to go along." "i'll be on your side." ] Salieri — you'll overload my ears.

... And my eyes, Kapellmeister. [ kindly ... sit back down with him for now it's very distracting ] Pray, do you mean it? Truly?

[amurder]

[Salieri understands the Maestro's hesitation all too well.

The vision of himself from long ago was all but diminished in history– not only forgotten in the overblown fiction that would become his legacy... but also in the form which consumed his spirit and changed it permanently.

Or not so permanently.

He feels an unbidden giddiness as he huffs at Amadeus's befuddlement. Yes, he could never have admitted such a thing before– could never have readily agreed to stand by the Maestro's side. He could he? Such irony now that he's become- quite literally- a true beast, and yet his thoughts are as clear as ever.

Yes, he was distressed at first... but to speak his mind now with such confidence, it was too good to be–] —!!

Amadeus, truly?! [He barks, a bit of red returning to his face as he finds his seat on the steps once again. He simply forgot! He could at least look away...!

After a second to sort himself again, he pins him with a wry stare.] As I was saying... I have no reason to deny myself this now, Amadeus. Not when a chance to— [He pauses, silently grapples for the right word.] ... reacquaint myself with the man I used to be.

And you brought him back, Maestro. [His voice falls. Salieri looks away, mutters into the street.] I am ready again because of you.

[fordeath]

[ that's not right, he thinks.

there's much to be said about whose fault it truly is that salieri's reputation ended up warped so. in truth (and as much as he may be slow to admit it), not all blame can rest on the shoulders of a cold, gossiping public. all the terrible dramatics in his life that led he and his father to fantasize quite descriptively about italian cabals and all their conspirators played their part just as well.

no, amadeus is the center of those rumors — fabricated by a populace who thrived on tragedy, who revered the genius posthumously better than they had in his years of living — but is the reason nevertheless, that salieri was forgotten as the esteemed hofkapellmeister and remembered as mozart's killer.

so then ... what could salieri possibly mean when he says he's "ready again"? because of him? what did he do other than call salieri a fool? ]

... I think you're underestimating yourself a great deal, Kapellmeister. Yourself, and the nature of the world we find ourselves in.

[ leave it to him to strip the moment of its romance. ] You were always capable of it, Maestro, but the Sisters seem to have given you the form to act on it. [ form, like a style of musical expression, but form like the way this world and its magical properties deconstructed them as servants, and rebuilt salieri ... in this way. ] Perhaps practicing some paganism is due. Hahaha. [ ha ha ha ]

[amurder]

['You were always capable of it, Maestro.

The lines of Salieri's eyes deepen as he watches the man across from him– observes the air about him which remains light and fanciful even now. A look of deep pensiveness overtakes his expression and from behind him his tail quietly brushes over the steps.

Was he always capable of it? Did Amadeus truly have such confidence in him that he would think it possible for Salieri to admit such feelings whilst still in the throes of his rage? Or did he mean that Salieri would be capable of producing music even when the only sound to reach him then was dissonance?

... Perhaps Amadeus truly is that naive then.]

Hn. You will not find me kneeling before any alters anytime soon, Maestro.

[Hmph. Salieri glances down at the cake box in his lap.] As for this form... I suppose it's a suitable shell for now.

Even with its features. [He grumbles the last words, and takes the opportunity to lightly extend the claws beneath his paws. Such... a strange sensation, truly.]

[fordeath]

[ salieri. the imperial kapellmeister antonio salieri. the court's favorite – the emperor's favorite, the man who lived out his seventy-five years of life and witnessed the absolute highs and the absolute lows of one's career... a teacher, a friend. his friend. that salieri was in there, under the layers of rumors-made curse, all along.

and no amount of him and his genius could have helped pull him free from the shackles of an avenger. never on his power alone.

that's what he meant. he's only giving credit where it's due.

this world has performed miracles upon arrival the likes of the holy grail might be capable of. it's fascinating and bizarre. ] Ahaha, I don't think they do that here.

[ as salieri demonstrates one of said features, amadeus leans closer (and effectively decides to ignore the rather morbid use of the word "shell" to describe his body—) to get a better look. ] They're pretty big, but I imagine you'll be used to them before long. [ some kind of sparkling excitement shines in his eyes as he examines the spotted, fluffy legs rather intimately. then: ] ... Can I touch them, Salieri?

[amurder]

[If only Salieri saw it as such.

He's content to leave it at that– the topic of their conversation suspended and left there for another time. Perhaps if Amadeus were to bring up the strength of his ambitions yet again he would be more liable to agree... but until then, he's only just begun to view his situation with thoughts unclouded.

He huffs. Capable, was it?

Ah, well. Salieri is all too prepared to close the conversation there- when he sees Amadeus leaning in close, that all too evident curiosity gleaming in his stare.] —! [His tail bristles, he looks down quickly with a scowl.] Honestly, I've already—

[—...

He pins Amadeus with a stare. Did he just say... touch them?]

Touch? [TOUCH? Salieri quickly feels himself losing control of his reaction!] You mean to touch my... legs?

This?! [With a hiss and a quickly reddening face he gestures to them.] Amadeus??

[He just did that. To ask for such a thing!! Right here in the open!!]

[fordeath]

— [ his lips part, a smile suspended with no words to come as salieri goes through the motions, within which he finds no solid answer to his request.

once the leopard has finished making a fuss, amadeus raises a brow, but slyly avoids that accusatory stare. ]

Okay, okay! ... I take it that's a no? You could simply say so, Herr Salieri. [ he turns to nurse his coffee like he would the small, smarting wound of rejection. ): ]

[amurder]

...!! [What? What?!

Just as Amadeus had watched him go through his motions, he also stares as he watches Amadeus play through his... rejection.

Rejection!

Guilt, sudden and all too unpleasant, churns in his stomach. With hand over his mouth Salieri considers the idea a little more... carefully. Well. It's not as though Amadeus would be touching his bare legs, he supposes... and it must be only natural that the Maestro would be curious. He was always far too curious for his own good, after all. Salieri frowns.

...]

Scusi. I didn't mean— [He starts, shoulders straightening slightly.] to shout. I was surprised.

[Salieri's voice softens here.]

Amadeus, you may... [His tail twitches.] touch them.

[fordeath]

[ aren't they his bare legs? the fur coat on them isn't exactly meager, but still.

from that dejected angle of his, amadeus snorts into his coffee, shoulders lifting sharply when salieri gives in so quickly. he didn't really mean to guilt him into it — he can take rejection, after all, but he won't say no after that humble concession.

now he smiles a smile at salieri which is both outwardly patient and yet clearly gleaming with a barely veiled zeal. ] Really? You're sure? [ ... seen in the way he moves forward despite those questions.

amadeus places a hand at salieri's knee and immediately sinks his fingers into the dense fur there, ruffling it a bit. ] Wow — it's thick, Salieri, and soft. Come, feel! You haven't yet, right? [ come to think of it they sort of just sped their way out of that music shop to this spot. had salieri been sitting there with two strangers for legs without attempting to be acquainted this whole time?

meanwhile, amadeus brushes along the grain, down the man's shin in short, light pets. eventually he introduces nails — watches salieri's expression as he scritches ever so slightly in that spot. ] Perhaps this goes without saying, but they also seem much more powerful now, don't they? I wonder how high you could jump with them...

[amurder]

[Ah– this... is what Salieri feared the most.

He doesn't immediately respond to the suggestion of touching his own furred legs, for the thought of feeling that newly thick fur over his flesh hadn't even crossed his mind up until now. Like the limbs beneath them they were new, and yet his mind had already registered them as something he may as well have been born with. Something kept with him through his entire life.

So it's something else entirely to see Amadeus reach for his knee and brush those long fingers across the silvery grey fur there. A shiver climbs up his spine as the Maestro explores. Salieri struggles to keep his expression neutral, despite the wrinkling of his brow and tight press of his lips. The flush staining his cheeks still hasn't relented.]

Amadeus– [He thinks to demand a change in conversation– to ask Amadeus what he finds about these legs so fascinating. Surely, he wouldn't go petting the first vicious beast he ran across, would he–]

!! [But at the first scratch Salieri's leg jolts.

He quickly turns his head away, a delicately curled hand coming up to press against his lips- as though he were attempting to conceal a cough. As though of its own will he leans his leg higher into that hand.] M-Mmhm.

I couldn't begin to tell you. [He murmurs, demure and quiet. His tail attempts to sway against the steps. He wants... more nails. More scratching.

This is becoming too much!]

[fordeath]

[ by the time amadeus has noticed salieri's discomfort (or, what he perceives to be), he's already fiddling with the fur at the backs of the chimera's legs where it hangs at its most fluffy. ] ?

Hm? Whatever you're feeling, Kapellmeister, come out and say it. [ for now, he'll pull away. though the display of childish curiosity might say otherwise, he does understand that stroking these legs, no matter how fresh and new they are, is just as good as doing the same to the avenger's human ones; strange and intimate. ] You won't touch them?

[amurder]

I... suppose. [It's something of a small relief, when Amadeus's tickling fingers pull away from the thick fluff of his shins. Now that he's sated most of his interest Salieri can truly look at the heavy legs he's been gifted with. Yes, perhaps they could help him leap from great heights... but why on earth would he want to do that now?

With a pinched brow Salieri shifts back slightly. With some visible effort he lifts his left leg up, and slowly drops it over his right knee. There's no denying it- it's a funny sort of sight, seeing a Chimera casually relaxing with crossed legs on the steps of some building. Nest to a Witch, for that matter.

But he just wanted to check, to see something... and there it is.

Thick, black round paw pads just underneath his foot. They're only slightly dirty from the walking he's done from the shop to here, but how strange that he barely felt them at all...]

To think I truly will become used to this. [He mutters as he finally reaches a hand and avoids the paws all together- going instead for his knee, which he brushes with his fingers.] ... It's soft, at least.

[fordeath]

[ if amadeus had a tail of his own, it would surely be swaying and wagging right about now.

the moment salieri crosses his legs and shows off those black paw pads underneath, a sudden "oh!" escapes his lips, and the sparkle in his eyes seems to shine its brightest.

amadeus quickly scooches closer, sitting right next to salieri on the same step now, and laughs. ] Ahaha! What kind of reaction is that, Salieri? [ he shakes his head. can't the man see how exciting this is? ] Well, maybe you just need more time with them. [ as he says this, amadeus leans over, peers at them ... and then, gently pokes the center of the largest pad. it's squishy... ]

... Will you be wearing shoes over these, Kapellmeister?