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paradisa2013-04-13 11:43 pm
Case 3
He patiently flips through what he was hoping was a book of sheet music on the stand he stood at, only to find every page blank. Hmph...so the castle’s playing with him again? Well, Kristoph still won’t lose his cool, not when he has a means to calm himself further and organize his thoughts. The journal, originally laid out on an empty chair, is now set on the music stand in place of the useless sheets of paper; for the sake of keeping an eye on the rest of the residents, as well as a means to broadcast his music.
Kristoph decides to simply play what he could remember first of a violin scale. Yes, test the notes first, then move onto a melody. There must be at least one song he remembers, even if he hadn’t picked up the violin in well over ten years...perhaps more. A thought occurs to him and his playing slows]
Hmm...Now, what was it that they used to play? Ah, yes.
[The notes soon form into the melody he didn’t realize he was looking for until now. Recalling all the memories he had of both practicing in the past and his brother’s popularity as a musician, Kristoph’s playing shows more confidence in the song, though something about it seemed a bit off. Kristoph had slowed the original tempo down considerably, remaking the piece into a chilling requiem. Fully concentrated on his playing, Kristoph had no idea that as he continued to play the song, marks began to show up on his skin in two forms: of blood splatter across his face and glasses, and of faintly glowing pale blue smears on his fingers.
He could think clearly now, and that was all that mattered.]
[[OOC: Combined action and dictation. Have some creepy violin music seasoning to go on your angsty Samkranti steak. :D]]
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Being played on a violin, which conjures up memories he'd rather not believe in right now.
Feeling a trancelike fog of unreality close around him, he moves to pick up the guitar he'd asked for on his first day, a simple acoustic one with a sound he finds soothing. He waits for a pause in the music, then joins in on the second guitar part, matching the other player's pacing.]
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Surely, that meant that...Hmph. Well, now Kristoph, for once, wasn’t entirely sure of whether or not he should be pleased to know his brother was around...if his suspicions proved to be correct, of course.]
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It could be anyone. Anyone from his own world might theoretically be playing Gavinners music on a violin. For all he knows, Herr Wright has a secret talent at violin-playing that simply never aided him at the piano.
It's a lie, but he keeps playing, pouring himself entirely into the music until the song ends.]
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There was no possible way that fortune would frown on him that deeply. The song he had played had been relatively well known from what Kristoph could remember of it. Anyone with an ear for music could have picked it out, even with his modifications. But with the emergence of the guitar music came memories that Kristoph would have preferred to keep buried as deeply as possible.]
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You play our music well, o mysterious journal musician.
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...Thank you. I recall a certain someone in my past playing that song almost constantly, so I should hope that I can manage making some small adjustments...in spite of how long it’s been since I last played the violin.
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Klavier's voice is quiet, subdued.]
You've lost none of your skill in that time.
[He needs to see for sure.] Where are you? This is hardly the proper way to conduct a reunion, ja?
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I am very much inclined to agree with you on that point, so come to the music room...so that we may proper one, face-to-face...
[That is, if you can handle the blood splatter there, little brother...]
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[And he'll bring his guitar. It doesn't really matter what he intends to do with it - for some reason, he feels safer facing his brother with a talisman of some kind in hand.
He's not sure what he's expecting to find when he enters the room, but the sight that meets his eyes is definitely not it. He had intended to call out to Kristoph, but instead he visibly recoils, flinching back from the sight of blood spray across his brother's face, for a moment certain the whole encounter has been nothing but a nightmare.]
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...Is there a problem, Klavier? You seem--
[With the violin lowered, Kristoph finally came to notice the splotches on his fingers. Though the luminescence was lost on his color-deprived vision, he saw them as shades of light grey standing out just fine on his skin. His brow twitches and he frowns lightly at the sight as the memories of a certain case leap forth from the darkness with claws at the ready.
...but he didn’t react any further aside from turning back to the music stand and looking through the blank sheets once again.]
I will admit that these are...most peculiar circumstances for a family reunion, but fortunate nonetheless.
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[brb brain broken. please leave a message at the tone.
As Klavier's stare turns from the blood on Kristoph's face to what looks like atroquinine residue on his brother's fingertips, a similarly-shaded marking makes its way across his face. Starting at the bridge of his nose, a pattern of spectacles in faintly-luminescent light blue spreads outward toward both sides of his face.
He clenches the hand holding the neck of his guitar unconsciously, and as a finishing flourish, a black top hat appears on the back of it. He doesn't seem to notice.]
...What a relief. I must be asleep after all.
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Hmn? Please don’t speak in such fragmented excuses for sentences, Klavier. It’s difficult to understand.
[His eyes trailed down to the guitar in his brother’s hand, and he froze tensely in the midst of preparing to play another set of scales. Try as he might to convince himself that it was only a coincidence caused by those nasty memories clawing their way from the darkness, there was no denying the shape on Klavier’s hand. It caused that well-hidden anger, usually very scarce to see, to flicker in his eyes. A striking contrast to the neutrality of the rest of his face.]
...Perhaps we both are. I have had a couple experiences that couldn’t even begin to tell me otherwise...
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[With an effort, he tears his eyes away from Kristoph's face, and looks around the room.] At least our dreams are well supplied with entertainment.
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[And seemingly out of nowhere, Kristoph sounds all sunshine and rainbows again.] But with you here, I suppose counting my blessings wouldn't be an entirely useless action anymore...
dictated;
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[A pause…then his tone lowers from pleasantness to blank. Bad memories are stirring]
"Requiem for The Law Defiled"
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...And as I consider that further, I realize that memories have similar tendencies. Some remain within the mind until the end of one's life, while others are pitifully transient...
[Listen closely, and you might detect a small, bitter edge to his voice] Now, the problem with this is that depending on the individual, the memories that should fade away are the obdurate ones that persevere no matter what, while the important memories are the ones doomed to fade into eternal obscurity.
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dictated
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I originally picked up the violin in order to appeal to the university I was applying for in my younger years...and subsequently dropped it as my studies overtook any time I might have had to practice.
[He sighs quietly] The violin I had at the time fell into a state of disrepair when I made the move to my own residence, and I simply never found the time to fix it, let alone practice again...
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