video (un: sea you later) & action

[moonsounds]

[You know what Ruka's found? A piano, FINALLY.

At long last, she's going to play for everyone like she promised--over the network and in person. It'll help bolster resolve or soothe or whatever people need.

It's just nice after ghosts in the kitchen and vanishing bears to find something consistent in this place.

She'll be there for hours with hardly a break, not even noticing the time passing when she switches from song to song. She plays everything she can think of, from Chopin's Butterfly to Debussy's Clair de Lune, Vivaldi's Spring to Tchaikovsky's Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy.

If her stomach growls with hunger or exhaustion sets in, she doesn't notice it at all, far too engrossed in her playing. That doesn't mean she won't take requests though and will always pause to greet someone who enters, a faintly pleased expression on her face.

Her playing doesn't seem to be special at first glance, but it does have an ability to soothe and tap into ones' emotions. And since she probably doesn't know songs from others' worlds, for the most part, instead of asking what someone wants to hear, she'll ask: "What do you want to feel?"]

Comments

un: abwhorent / audio

[wifedup]

( Oh good, she found it. And now he knows what a piano looks like! )

Miss Minazuki plays well.

[moonsounds]

Thank you. [She bows her head a little in acknowledgement of the compliment]

My mother was teaching me since I was little. When we left my home, this is one of the only things I still pursued from it. It's been the only connection I have left with my past.

[She plays a few notes, just random little tunes, her expression softer than it's been in a while.]

[wifedup]

My father taught me the flute. Or at least, he tried. I had no interest in it properly until long after his passing.

( He recalls it, like most things of his time before Ghost Valley, in hazy momentary snatches of memory. He could very much be wrong, such is the way of things after he had drank the soup. But if he remembers the Five Lakes, and he remembers Zhou Zishu, and those things are true then this might be. )

Music often does wonders, when thinking of home. Are your patrons treating you kindly? You play well, make them tip better.

[moonsounds]

I'm sorry for your loss. [She pauses and then adds:] I don't remember my father much. [If at all. Only flashes of things--a turned back, and a mask... She shudders.]

Everything's fine. I don't care about all of that. [She looks at him] Do you want a song?

[wifedup]

It was a long time ago.

( And it often stirs up a whole heap of complicated, messy feelings in Wen Kexing. As he's trying to not go on a murderous spree in this place, it's probably best he doesn't think about it. )

You don't care about your recompense? But you're playing so nicely, and you did mention your music provided something of an ... emotional boon? Surely you should be paid for it.

( If Zhou Zishu were here, Wen Kexing would have already commandeered his purse for tipping. )

un: absterge

[downswing]

You create beauty.

The instrument is not string.

[moonsounds]

Thank you.

There are strings inside. [She taps one of the keys a few times, moving up and down the scale] There are hammers inside that hit the strings, causing the vibration and the sound. 88 keys in total, over 200 strings.

[She sighs softly, almost lovingly] I love it.

[downswing]

You partook young?

[moonsounds]

Yes. My mother started teaching me as soon as I had the coordination for it. I was learning for a couple of years, I think, but... [Her fingers still on the keys, brow furrowing slightly before she sighs]

I have an illness that caused me to lose my memory. I don't remember much about what I learned then, but once we moved off the island I started over again. It's been about ten years of playing for me now.

[downswing]

Forgetfulness. It has healed?

[moonsounds]

I thought it did, but... [She trails off and then sighs, shaking her head] It was dormant for several years, but it came back a little while before I came to this world.

It doesn't seem to be progressing much. [Doesn't mean it won't at all, but it's not for now, and that's what she can take right now]

[downswing]

...how much forgotten? My companion, also.

[moonsounds]

Everything before the age of 8 years old.

[She looks up, concerned]

Are there any other symptoms of his memory loss? The illness from my world shouldn't spread to anyone outside of my island, and mine shouldn't be advanced enough to be contagious [But now she's worried because WHAT IF]

[downswing]

Only a turbulence of memory. No full years lost.

[moonsounds]

[She nods, looking a bit relieved]

That's good. If symptoms get worse... Well. There's not much I can do right now, but... I can still try to help a little. [Somehow. Someway.]

when did i turn this thread audio, a mystery

[downswing]

...how?

magic

[moonsounds]

I know about how it progresses. There's a song that can help, but I don't...remember it all. But it can cure it.

If it spreads, if I can remember... Then it'll be alright.

[downswing]

A cure for memory you misremember?


( ...........madam. )

[moonsounds]

[unperturbed, she shrugs]

It's a song passed down from the priestesses to their daughters, but the only one left alive from that island who'd know it is me. My mother taught it to me.

But a different ritual to cure the memory loss resulted in me losing everything instead. I can remember bits and pieces of it, but I need to keep practicing at it. When I play, I start to remember things and my mind rejects it.

So it's just something I have to keep working on.

[downswing]

It appears... more secure not to push a recovery.

[moonsounds]

If I can remember, I can help.

[She turns to the piano keys, beginning to play Swan Lake.]

And if I can't remember, well... The only one it hurts is me. It's alright. I want to try.

[downswing]

...I do not.

[moonsounds]

[She doesn't stumble, but her fingers slow a little, pausing in confusion]

Why?

[downswing]

Harm cannot right harm.

[moonsounds]

But sometimes hard works means putting sweat, tears, and blood into it to achieve what you want.

And I want my memories back. It's important to me to remember who I was and where I came from. I can't remember my father's face or his voice and I can't remember anything of my life before the illness. [She picks up playing away, eyes focused on the keys]

I need to know what happened to me and my friends.

[downswing]

There are sorcerers among us. Skilled.

audio | yiling laozu

[weifinder]

You play lovely music, miss. Do these songs have names?

[moonsounds]

Thank you. It means a lot to me. [The music more than the compliment, but she's also glad that her playing is good. The years of practice and hard work from herself and her mother has paid off.]

This one is called 'Butterfly,' by Chopin. [She plays Chopin again, before running through each of the songs again, playing snippets to name them.] Clair de Lune by Debussy. 'The Four Seasons - Spring' by Vivaldi. Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy by Tchaikovsky.

This one's Flight of the Bumblebee by Rimsky-Korsakov. Doesn't it sound just like it says? [Assuming he has, of course, seen a bee in flight before anyhow.]

[weifinder]

( He listens, intently enough, taking in those melodies and already turning aspects of them into parts he can return on his own instrument, either as harmony or in reference to, despite the large difference in sound quality between the instruments. )

So many nature inspired titles! You should hear any of the Lans playing more traditional performance pieces on the qin, for that reason if not others.

( The Flight of the Bumblebee has the frenetic energy of any flower pursuing creature batted about by the winds while pursuing first its supper, then its journey home. He breathes out in a laugh that's delighted yet again by the name — and the aptness of it for the energy of the tune. )

Almost buzzes through you, painting that image of the flying insect in a meadow.

[moonsounds]

Music is about emotion, painting a picture with sound. Each piece has a story or an image behind it, or an emotion. It makes you really feel.

The music can be anything from light and airy, the classics, to rock, or just about anything. I love how versatile it can be.

[She glances up] What else would you like to hear?

[weifinder]

Whatever else you've been wanting to play.

( He prefers the surprise of it all, new music and new ways of melodies and the oddity of a stringed instrument where the strings aren't directly played, but through a mechanism instead. The vibration and quality of sound is simply different enough to be a mental puzzle, and he finds he enjoys it. )

I could play along on flute, if you wanted an unplanned harmony?

action;

[bravelyrunsaway]

Nothing, love, but thanks for the asking. Hearing what you've already played has been more than lovely for my ears so far.

( Strangely settling, too, which he doesn't Trust, but isn't making him run the other direction. He's here eying the piano, however. )

This instrument. What's it called?

[moonsounds]

[She's surprised, honestly, that there's so many people that don't recognize the piano. But it's also fine, since she can introduce it to so many people.]

You flatter me, but thank you. It's called a piano. I've been playing it since I was a child, but they're harder to come by. They're not very portable.

A lot of people play instruments here though. It's... nice.

[bravelyrunsaway]

What, not as common in your home... village? Town?

The thing's more awkward than hard to move. Have you asked that what's his name... any of the long, dark haired men with pouches they like to put things in, or the Strange Doctor, they might make the whole piano moveable?

video; un: owllady

[traaaaaash]

Ohhh, nice tunes you got there. But... it's not magic, huh?

[ Because any music she hears will make her think of her bard friend. ]

video; i'm so sorry for the delay omg.......

[moonsounds]

Hmm...In a way, I think it is. It could be.

[metaphorically, but also literally.]

I'm not as good at it as my mother and others before me, though. They could use music in all sorts of ways that I can't.