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Post by Marshmallow on Jul 4, 2017 22:07:47 GMT -6
"It's still wrong!"
The bottom floor of the lake house rang with the clatter of toppled furniture. The music stand, the chair, and even the desk were upturned in a burst of anger, sending sheet music and scribbled notes fluttering through the air. The shadows pulsed and shuddered with nervous energy as Malthiel fought to regain his calm. He leaned back against the wall as the last pages drifted to the carpet, and regarded his violin - the only thing spared from his outburst - as though it had committed some great treason against him.
This composition had been days in the making; hours upon hours, sleepless days and restless nights of work. He had delegated his Syndicate work to his enforcers, he had taken leave from REM and Lucid, making the time to finish this piece that commanded his attention and devotion completely.
But it was still wrong somehow. No matter how many changes and adjustments he made, something still felt off about the song. It needled at him, gnawed him through the core until his patience had finally snapped just like the legs of his chair after it struck the far wall.
While each new edition of the song was arguably a beautiful testament to his many centuries of practiced skill - masterpieces beyond compare, surely - they still were not perfect. And if this was to be a gift for Isaac, for his dearest Yhoundeh, he could tolerate nothing less than complete perfection.
To that end, he decided he needed to change his approach, needed a change of scenery. The study had become small, cramped and stifling. It wore on his nerves just to be there and he simply couldn't stand it anymore.
Without a moment's hesitation, Malthiel snatched up the violin and its case, and a pair of his notebooks. Abandoning the disaster that was his study, he barely paused to even smooth back his hair before departing from the house. He had no clear destination in mind, he just needed to get out.
He avoided prying eyes and quickened his venture by stepping from shadow to shadow, putting the busiest parts of the Lake Sommut shores behind him in favor of the peaceful seclusion of more remote banks. With only wild birds, and the shady boughs of oak and ash for company, Malthiel finally felt the tension start to ease. With a deep breath and a monumental effort, he put aside the obsession with perfection - at least, for a little while. He needed to unwind. And so, violin in hand, he began to simply play. He let the music flow as it willed, drifting from somber melodies heavy with feeling, through to lighter, warmer tones inspired by the nature around him. He played for himself and the trees and the gently lapping waters, heedless to the passage of time.
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Post by MP on Jul 5, 2017 23:58:40 GMT -6
The lake waters lapped gently over glossy yellow hide, their smoothness broken only by the occasional ripple as Sohl moved his forelimbs in a lazy stroke. His natural shape was oddly well-suited for swimming with its many limbs and broad, webbed feet. Swimming was not a normal activity for his breed to enjoy, but then, he'd had a very good teacher. And it was not so different from the air, if you ignored the fact that he was stuck almost permanently floating. He blew several playful bubbles at the water's surface, flicking his ears at the sound, and paddled on, submerging his head now and again in search of fish.
He had been drifting for some time, following tiny schools of minnows, when a sound suddenly lifted his head from the water. He was frozen for half a heartbeat, black-tipped ears swiveling this way and that. Then he flattened his mane in panic, trying desperately to vent his aether before his momentum brought him in view of the human. His striped back sank beneath the water after several moments. The rest of him gradually followed until at last he floated several feet below the surface - the best he could manage. His yellow eyes and broad nostrils - the pale tip of his mask - could still be seen above the water. And his crests, lowered close against his forehead though they were, protruded noticeably. Sohl paddled surreptitiously as he could toward some cattails, which he hoped would provide some extra shelter. And there he stayed, pupils huge with anxiety, ears pinned flat against his head. Why hadn't he heard them coming? He should have gone further - fished in a more isolated part of the lake. Next time, he thought. Next time I swear I'll be more careful. Just please, please don't see me. Keep playing your music, and don't look over here.
As he peered out from among the cattails, his thoughts lit on a very small silver lining: trapped he might be, but at least he was trapped with a very pleasant sound.
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Post by Marshmallow on Jul 6, 2017 7:28:42 GMT -6
He could not be sure for long he stood in that small clearing on shore. Time ceased to be of any meaning from the moment the first notes flowed. He had a week's worth of coiled frustration and anxiety to work off, and was content to remain there until that well ran dry. He poured as much of that bottled energy as he could into one song after another, letting it all vent until the bow began to fray with use.
Eyes shut to the world, he simply lost himself to his music, let it carry him away with each new melody. A miniature concert to the forest and still waters, as yet unaware of his audience. At times, he even lifted his own voice in smooth tenor notes as he played, singing old songs, lost songs from a distant and alien memory. As the dark shroud over his mood lifted, the long and many-dappled shadows over the clearing began to shudder and sway, ripple and dance in time to the music.
A tickle in his subconscious slowly drew the musician out of his creative trance. The shivering shadows had chanced upon an alien form in the shallows. A presence had lingered there, at the fringes of his perception, far longer than any wild animal ever should. The motion of the bow slowed, and the last chord gently tapered into silence. At last he opened his eyes and lowered the violin, feeling at once exhausted and invigorated. He turned, bending as if to return the instrument to its case, only to pause. Shaded silver eyes met and held the anxious stare of the face among the cattails.
"You know, it's rude to stare," he chided gently, regardless of whether the face belonged to a sentient thing or not. Either possibility was equally amusing. "But I certainly hope you enjoyed the show."
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Post by MP on Jul 6, 2017 10:40:34 GMT -6
Although he tried to be inconspicuous - as much as a giant golden beast could be, at least - Sohl could not help but raise his head a little as he listened. He flicked his ears to clear the water from them, angling them this way and that to catch the music to its best advantage. It was unlike anything he had ever heard, filled with strange intervals and unfamiliar melodies and accented by the singer's voice in a harmony that was almost heartbreaking. He was not aware of how close he had drawn until the man lowered the instrument and, in a heart stopping moment, turned to stare directly into his eyes.
"You know, it's rude to stare."
Sohl flattened himself to the cattails at once, averting his eyes in panicked contrition as if that might hide him. The tops of the plants swayed as he locked talons around their submerged roots and used them to pull himself lower in the water. He could try to swim away - hope the man hadn't seen enough of him for any real trouble with the WDSA. But then, the man didn't seem very frightened. Didn't even look entirely human, with those eyes. And Sohl would like to hear him play again.
"But," the man interrupted his racing thoughts, seeming to guess their direction. "I certainly hope you enjoyed the show."
Sohl hesitated. Raised his muzzle from the water, exposing a cream colored throat as he peered above the cattails. He nodded shyly, his pupils wide with enthusiasm.
[ It was beautiful,] he chuffed softly. The man couldn't understand him, of course. But he felt it deserved to be said.
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Post by Sharei on Jul 6, 2017 12:25:15 GMT -6
Click.
"Hah!"
Kit jumped up from the place that she'd been hiding among the warm vegetation of the wood's edge in enthusiasm. Her cry of accomplishment echoed over the sloping bank of the lake as dusty evening sunlight rained golds and oranges over the glassy waters. Birds startled from their nests took wing into the cloudless sky.
All eyes turned toward her and her lips made an 'o' of surprise. "Whoops. Well. Shit."
'You'd think I'd learn', she scolded herself, amazed and amused at her own lack of survival instinct. 'Jumping out in front of a supernatural. Yeah, that's a great idea. Apparently I'm thicker than a bag of bricks.'
Kit lowered her camera sheepishly and tucked it into the safety of her padded camera bag. When the zipper caught halfway closed she made a rather exaggerated impression of trying to Act Casual and sidestepped toward one of the tree trunks while tugging at the zipper. "Haha..hah... Hi!" she exclaimed. "Nice night, isn't it? Um. Great playing, you know... sir."
Her cheeks were nuclear crimson by the time she'd managed to reach the tree and half hide herself behind it. She was dirty, tired, and sore from sleeping on the hard earth of her tent for the past two nights. Her jeans had grass stains on the knees and she'd been picking twigs out of her hair from a rather spectacular fall into a blueberry bush that morning. It was hardly a state to be meeting people in, least of all what was clearly a supernatural. At first she hadn't seen it hiding among the cattails at the water's edge when she'd come to investigate the music so nearby her camp, but her photographer's keen eye had instantly picked out a flash of color as the thing had raised its head. Could it be, she'd immediately thought? Was she finally getting a shot of the lake monster that she'd been camping out to try and find?
It was a lot smaller than she'd thought. It also didn't look like any species in the Insolitam Monstrumis her father had given her for her seventeenth birthday. What exactly was it?
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Post by Marshmallow on Jul 6, 2017 20:18:04 GMT -6
At his words, the pale face in the reeds perked up. The creature huffed a quiet reply, to which Malthiel smiled warmly. "Why, thank you," he hummed back at the beast as he gave a showman's bow. "Act Two will begin after a brief intermission."
Ordinarily, he ought to be offended that something as personal as his music had been witnessed by prying eyes and ears. But the melodies, and the time spent to vent and purge his negativity had him feeling amiable, even playful. He welcomed the attention, felt a swell of pride in having captured the thing's awe.
Click. "Hah!"
The shadows rippled as his attention shifted. Silver eyes gleaming in the fading light, he turned again to find a woman hastily stowing a camera in a very uncooperative bag. He carefully masked his surprise at not just one, but two strangers managing to slide under his greater perception. Though one eyebrow arched quizzically as she stammered her way through an awkward greeting. He chuckled. Her cheeks nearly as red as her hair.
"Yes, quite a lovely evening indeed, miss," Malthiel replied as he knelt beside his violin case. He set the instrument carefully inside, and reached for a small block of amber rosin, which he began dutifully applying to the bow. "As rude as it is to stare, I should say it's rather more inconsiderate to ambush others with a camera. Isn't it illegal to photograph someone without their consent these days?" he mused, his tone jovial rather than accusing.
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Post by MP on Jul 6, 2017 22:29:32 GMT -6
The great yellow head tipped sideways at the violinist's reaction. The man didn't seem afraid or curious at all. If anything, he seemed to be pretending Sohl was a grand audience, bowing to him with a performer's flourish. Sohl fluffed slightly, a combination of hopefulness and aether buoying him higher in the water. The man was going to let him stay. He was going to play more music! The seraph lifted a talon almost gingerly from the water, risking a single, cautious step closer.
Click.
"Hah!"
Sohl sprang up with a startled squeal, panicked instinct spurring him up into the air rather than down into the water. And then it was too late to take it back. He hovered several feet above the lake, mane puffed to its full size in agitation, looking between the calm man and the flustered woman now stuffing away her camera. The camera that had taken his picture. Oh, he was in so much trouble. He couldn't just snatch it from her - she might think it was an attack, and then he really would have to answer to an agent. And that was so rude. But he couldn't just leave and let her post his picture where any human might see it. Trapped and frantic, he punctuated the man's mention of consent with a quiet wail of agreement.
The sound ended in an abrupt splash, followed by the sound of spluttering. A young man waded from the cattails the next moment, fumbling with muddy glasses, his jeans and t-shirt waterlogged.
"Please - please don't keep that," he was saying in a panicked ramble. "C-can you just delete it and forget about it or - just please don't Facebook it or anything. I'm going to be in so much trouble."
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Post by Sharei on Jul 6, 2017 22:46:49 GMT -6
"Oh!"
Kit blanched as the lake monster flopped into the air and then unceremoniously into the water. She waited with baited breath for it to emerge, but what ultimately came out of the lake was not at all a monster. Rather it was a man, dripping wet, flustered and muddy, and she suddenly felt rather foolish indeed.
"I uh... well-" she stuttered. "I wasn't going to post it or publish it. Sorry - I thought you were the lake monster!"
Kit stepped around the tree and ran her hands through her crimson hair to make sure it was twig-free. When she was certain that she didn't look ridiculous - or any more ridiculous than she already did - she stepped out of the bushes to meet the stranger on the shore. She gave the strange-eyed musician a side-eyed glance and wondered whether or not he was a splicer or a super himself. He hardly seemed surprised by the lake monster. That suggested he was more than he appeared to be.
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Post by Marshmallow on Jul 6, 2017 23:54:49 GMT -6
He caught only the briefest glimpse of the golden beast in his periphery. He would have liked to see the creature in its entirety, curious of its shape and species. But before he could fully appreciate it, the beast vanished, and with a splash and a sputter was replaced by a waterlogged young man.
Malthiel had to stifle a laugh at the shape-changer's unfortunate choice of timing. "Oh dear. Next time, try getting a bit closer to the shore, hm?"
"And what nonsense is this about 'lake monsters'? Honestly, the poor boy hardly looks like any sort of monster to me," the musician continued casually. He'd already been seen playing and talking to the thing, there would be no point to adopting the typical facade of ignorance. He sat on the grass, unbothered by either presence, and continued to stroke the bow until it had a smooth and polished shine.
As he tucked the bow away and lifted the violin to his lap to tend to it next, his gaze slid sideways to study the woman. He caught her side-eyed glance, and smiled slyly. "The wilderness isn't usually so crowded. To whom do I owe the pleasure of company tonight?"
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Post by MP on Jul 7, 2017 18:19:18 GMT -6
It wasn't Kit's stammered reassurance that stopped Sohl's forward slog. It was that word: monster.
He faltered mid-step, glasses dripping a slow trail of mud down his nose, looking uncertainly between the dark-eyes and the redhead. At the man's smiling comment on his thoughtless change, he wilted a little. Monster. Is that what he looked like? The cold was creeping up through the sodden legs of his jeans, and he suddenly felt very small and stupid. Then:
"And what nonsense is this about 'lake monsters'? Honestly, the poor boy hardly looks like any sort of monster to me."
Sohl raised his head a little, pupils contracting as they met the evening light. The faintest rim of true yellow could be seen above the illusory brown of his eyes, and he pushed his glasses up by the bridge, almost unconsciously. He watched in a dazed, sideways stare as the man tended first the bow and then the violin, and it was only after the man asked for introduction that he found his voice at last.
"Sohl," he answered, very quietly, unable to manage more. He remembered, too late, that he'd meant to give his registered - human - name.
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Post by Sharei on Jul 7, 2017 18:48:12 GMT -6
Honestly, the poor boy hardly looks like any sort of monster to me.
"I- w-well," she said and it wasn't so much the reprimand from the strange-eyed musician that gave her pause as the look on Sohl's face. Her expression shifted from the uncomfortable defense she'd been about to make to a softer one. There had been many times in Kit's considerably short life where she'd become instinctively aware that she'd fucked up, and this was one of them.
"No... No, he doesn't," Kit said with a huge sigh. "Frankly I don't know what the thing in the lake is, its just what people in town call it. You know, the blogs? 'Strange lake monster sighted!' I wasn't going to run around calling it, he, she, whatever it is - Gabriella for shits."
She looked between the two men and sighed again. "Here," she said and stepped out from behind the tree. She fished her camera out of its stubbornly zipped bag and flicked through the pictures on it as she approached Sohl. When she'd found the one she'd taken of him listening to the music she held the camera out toward him. "Go ahead and delete it so you can trust its gone. Sorry about that, I got a little overzealous. I've been camped out here for the last two days trying to catch sight of whatever it is using the lake. I didn't realize you were sapient - uh, that's not to say you don't look like it!"
Kit stammered over another few statements and then facepalmed. "God, can I say anything else stupid? Hello, I'm Kit, clearly the dumbest person on the lake at the moment. What I mean is, there's a lot of unusual creatures out there that aren't supers but aren't normal animals, either. Many of them aren't sapient. They leak through when the realms adjacent to this one touch and I thought you might be one of those. We get a lot of that happening in Wathais. You didn't look like any of the species in my books, so I had no idea. Again, so sorry!"
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Post by Marshmallow on Jul 7, 2017 21:09:07 GMT -6
Malthiel continued to polish the violin until the ornately etched wood had the same pristine shine as the day he had the instrument commissioned, all the while listening intently to the conversation - one-sided though it was at the moment - and taking down mental notes.
The shy young man he could gather little of, save for the very obvious fact that he was paranoid of being discovered - and easily cowed. From the information so openly presented by Kit, he surmised that this woman very likely posed him no threat. An aspiring photographer and apparent fan of supernatural creatures, overzealous and persistent, but ignorant and not altogether too bright. Likely new to the whole 'stalking' idea, given how readily she pranced to the victory of a single photograph. A prying eye he would have to be mindful of no doubt, but no more annoying or dangerous than any of the other cryptid researchers that sometimes prowled the lake for their tabloid newspapers or under-funded TV spots. On this first impression, she seemed more sane than most of the conspiracy nutters he'd had the displeasure of meeting in the past. And considerate enough to apologize, as well.
He was beginning to check the tightness and tune of the strings when he finally glanced up again. His smile was amiable, kind as he introduced himself with a slight bow of the head. "Malthiel, a pleasure. And I'm sure you could, if you put your mind to it," he joked at Kit. "But a good lesson for the future: it's a bit of a faux pas to refer to non-humans as 'monsters'. It's considered something of a racial slur in most circles."
The musician set the various maintenance products back inside the violin's case, then lifted the instrument and bow, testing the sound of a few chords.
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Post by MP on Jul 9, 2017 2:55:45 GMT -6
Gabriella? What was that? What was she talking about? Sohl leaned back on his heels slightly as the woman approached, staring uncertainly down at the proffered camera. A tiny image of his own masked face stared back at him. Eyes caught in a blink, of course. He looked up at the redhead for confirmation. Hesitated. Then before she could change her mind, he stretched out a hand and thumbed gingerly through the options. A short click and the image was gone. He glanced up. Risked a shy smile of thanks.
And he was feeling better now. Safer, even if he didn't know what to make of the apology or the clarifications or the self-deprecating remarks. Even if her definition of an unusual creature worried him: not a super, not a normal animal, leaking - like a faulty pipe - in from adjacent realms. Isn't that what he was? Wasn't she right about him, even if she didn't know it? Maybe he should apologize. He didn't want her to feel foolish and scolded if she was right. But no, that wasn't the point right now. Not - not that he was afraid to explain. She hadn't meant to insult him, and that was what was important. The rest he could think on later.
"It's okay," he said to the dark-eyes, softly. "I'm not offended." He offered them both a smile and stuffed his hands in his pockets. They were utterly sodden, rimmed with stray duckweed, and not a comfort at all. He removed them with a slight grimace, shaking out his fingers.
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Post by Sharei on Jul 9, 2017 7:01:24 GMT -6
"Really?" Kit blinked at Malthiel and pursed her lips in thought. "Oh, I... didn't know. I was using it in the traditional Latin derivative context, not meant offensively. But I guess I could see where someone would use it and mean it badly. I'll keep that in mind next time. Mum and dad never really explained any of this so I'm just working off of what I've read in my arcane codexs."
Then, realizing that they probably had no idea what arcane codex was, she cleared her throat. "They're like encyclopedias for witches," she explained.
Sohl had deleted the photograph. Kit checked to make sure that it was done and then stowed the camera safely away in its camera bag. This time the zipper cooperated when she did it up.
"You say you're not offended but I still feel really awful," she said. Kit took in his sodden appearance and muck-ridden clothes with a grimace. "And you fell in the lake because of me. Let me make it up to you. I've got my truck parked nearby, why don't I drive you to your place for some clean clothes? Then maybe I can say sorry by buying you some dinner? Or at least a coffee."
"You can come too," she said to Malthiel, returning his amiable smile with a friendly one of her own. "As an apology for interrupting your music session."
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Post by Marshmallow on Jul 9, 2017 8:57:52 GMT -6
Malthiel shifted his position on the grass, folding his legs beneath him to set on his knees. He drew the bow across the freshly-tuned strings for several long, somber notes. A prelude to another of his many arrangements which soon faded smoothly into a calm, lilting tune. He played softly, the drifting melody rolling under the others' words rather than overpowering them. The image of careful attention to his music served to mask his listening ear. So the girl was a witch? That could be fun.
And then there were offers being made as apology. The bow still drifted over the strings even as he regarded the two youths in the clearing. With some reluctance, and a stifled sigh, the notes fell away and returned to silence. So many more songs burned to be released into the open air, but now he very much was being interrupted. Yet he wore a soft, patient smile. "No need to apologize, Miss Kit. It's perhaps about time to head home anyway, judging by the length of the shadows."
He carefully stowed violin and bow, and rose smoothly to his feet with case in hand. There was but a breath's pause as he considered, silver eyes flicking from the young witch to the soaked shape-shifter. He had absolutely no intention of getting into any commoner's vehicle, with its unknown level of quality and cleanliness - especially not alongside someone who still had pond sludge dripping out of their pockets.
But... He didn't wish to vanish from their company entirely. The golden beast had piqued his interest. A novice photographer stalking his lakeshore needed to be watched. Malthiel determined he must know more about them. This lake was his, after all. It would serve him well to know more of who dared stir its waters.
He was bored perhaps. And more than that, being newly refreshed from his musical meditation, he was terribly, insatiably curious.
The thoughts passed in a heartbeat, and his mind was made up in a blink. "I would love to take you up on your offer, Miss Kit, but to leave the poor boy waterlogged a moment longer would be cruel," he said smoothly. The shadows grew deeper as he spoke. "Here. Allow me..."
All at once, the shadows overcame them. The wooded shore vanished, replaced by a vast and terrible void of primordial darkness and bone-biting cold. Violating all logic of the mortal mind, the darkness surged as if alive. They were there for only an instant, but in that single fleeting moment an oppressive feeling, like that of a thousand murderous eyes, fell upon them. And then it was over. In the span of a few heartbeats, they had crossed the entire lake and now stood in Malthiel's first floor living room. He reached to a wall and flicked on the lights, illuminating a neatly organized space with a taste for contemporary design and warm, neutral colors. It spoke clearly of wealth, without being tastelessly lavish. In an effort to spare his pristine carpets of the worst, Sohl had been deposited on the tiled entryway of the foyer.
Malthiel was already dropping a folded towel into Sohl's arms. "No shoes on the carpet, please. What shirt and pant size would you say you are? I will see if I can't find something that will fit you until you can get home."
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