[ although all the pleasantries involved in speaking face to (digital) face is at hand thanks to the wonders of video call technology — amadeus prefers the quicker, easier, but still very personal venue of the voice call.
and while he's explored much of it over the open network, this is the first time he'll be pestering someone one on one. time to test this out. after all, there's no better invitation for closeness than having witnessed your fellow composer transform just the night before.
yes. now, salieri, your pocket watch is ringing! across the screen, the name he set it when he received it pops up: MOZART ]
[Give him a minute, Amadeus— Salieri is still reeling at the sight of his pocket watch going off, gleaming and showing him that little name on its screen. He still hasn't gotten used to it. Yeah, safe to say he wasn't completely expecting that!] ...
[With bated breath he answers— and is almost instantly bombarded with the sound of Amadeus's elated voice ringing the screen. He huffs, squinting through the light of it.] As always, Amadeus... you've certainly had your ear to the ground.
I'm afraid I haven't, but— [What exactly does "anyone" entail??] Be brief. What are you proposing exactly?
[ oh, does he want video? that's fine by him (so long as it isn't text). he's only standing outside of the music hall right now, after all, not particularly busy. a large sign behind him lists all the details of aurora musicalis — but, his head naturally covers most of the view. it's bright morning, all the energy of a new month and a new day reflected in the color of his eyes. ]
Eheh, are you in a hurry right now, Maestro?
It's a concert, Salieri. With lights and illusion magic. It's named after that phenomenon in Scandinavia, see? [ at that he raises his watch to catch the title of the poster. ] —Oh, can you see it? [ well, regardless of whether or not salieri could catch any details in that brief glimpse, amadeus brings it back down and continues. ] The staff here is looking for performers. Come down here and sign up!
[Well, far be it from Salieri to decline such an enthusiastic invitation— but he still feels a bit wary in regards to going out in general. He swears it wasn't so before... but he has a feeling it has to to do with these new additions of his, both the physical and mental attributes of them.
Either way, it all sounds very straight-forward and perhaps just a little tempting. He squints through the shaking camera and huffs when that bright smile makes itself known again.] Amadeus, hopefully you're aware that I haven't been a performer in some time.
... Although I admit I'm curious. [Is his follow-up mutter. How did Amadeus even find out about this new event so quickly?? Well, not that it matters now... and he's certainly not doing much by sitting at home. Salieri hums.]
Don't move then. I'd like to see the quality of their advertising for myself. [Give him a minute.]
[ well, that was worlds easier than he thought it was going to be. perhaps even he underestimated the small passionate flame for music that still burned within the kapellmeister's warped heart.
still, "don't move" is more of a demand than salieri likely realizes, as happy as his concession makes him. ]
What?? You can't expect me to stand here that long, Salieri...
I'm going to go get a coffee, okay? Tell me what you want, and I'll meet you here in twenty minutes.
[ the day wolfgang amadeus mozart misses something auditory is a true sign of the end. even those things unspoken, like the whipped cream that he imagines salieri wants but didn't specify, will find its way to him eventually.
at a cafe a block away, amadeus orders the espresso for himself, and the sweet chocolate coffee for salieri, and carries them over to the front of the music hall. just under twenty minutes. ]
[It's not like Salieri needs much to head out someplace— everything on his person is sufficient enough, and everything that wasn't has also become second thought.
The Little Melody was a setting he had taken notice of in passing but nothing more. To think, however, that the city would allow for such talent to shine for once... he wonders what limitations have been painstakingly chained to such an offer. He supposes he'll find out once he reaches Amadeus.
And reaches him he does. It's not so surreal now, to see one stiff Kapellmeister approaching the composer with wide, deliberate steps. His heavy paws pad silently across the street, perfectly predatory in every. Luckily (for Amadeus), Salieri has other prey set in his sights.
Such as one mocha waiting for him, topped with cream and drizzled how he likes it. He hums when he's finally close enough.] Tante grazie, Amadeus.
... I admit I had trouble believing you earlier. [He says with a glance towards the humble music hall before them.] And yet here we are.
Guten Morgen, Kapellmeister! [ he just. shouts at the man once he spots him from across the street.
amadeus shrugs at the show of gratitude. it's a little strange to, for once, have the kapellmeister in his debt rather than the other way around (he's yet to pay him back for that cake!). as though something isn't quite right with the world.
he supposes he only has the avenger's disposition and feline limbs to thank for that.
amadeus takes a long sip from his coffee before raising an eyebrow at the other. ] About what? The event? What's the use in making that up?
Not quite. [He joins him after a moment, standing beside the Maestro with a rigidness that comes with both his tentativeness and his still adjusting posture. When he finally takes his drink he brings it to his lips first- undoubtedly tasting the whip cream there first before finally tilting the cup. A glow that wasn't there before warms his cheeks, and he takes a moment to savor the sweetness before replying.] I wouldn't doubt your word, Amadeus.
I had thought Parliament was a bit more heavy-handed than this. [With a huff. It's a bit too obvious now...] I'm suspicious.
Do you think it unnecessary? [Be honest, he can take it...]
[ a combination of that subtly sweet-enchanted expression and the admission that… well, that salieri wouldn't doubt his word has amadeus smiling a gentler smile.
… but it's onto business now. ] Heh. Again with that?
[ he raises his coffee-free arm, offers his palm up and a look at his intact middle. ] You see me, Salieri. I'm unhurt. Unpunished. I've been getting by just fine with my … [ a suspicious little glance behind him, before he turns back with a smirk ] … night troupe.
[ then he pulls back and shrugs. ] I'll admit it's unforgivably annoying. They seem to remember the rules only when it's convenient – but why worry about it? The event isn't run by Parliament. There's plenty of similarly rambunctious spirits here with a love for theater.
[Amadeus... so does know how to make everything sound easy.
Salieri begrudgingly accepts this fact— has accepted it, since the first day he willingly sat across from the man and offered him sweets with tea. As though every obstacle in their path so far was simply a trivial misunderstanding, Amadeus spreads the pathways of his thoughts with an easy smile and a flick of his wrist. A deep envy once pitted his very being at such a thought, at the very notion that the composer could and would do whatever it took to create music.
Now that envy is replaced with something warmer— something indisputably more ardent.
Still, he can't help the way his expression sours at the mention of Amadeus's shady night troupe.] By some miracle you are unhurt. I've already extended my warnings, Amadeus... [A sigh.] but I'll admit, I'm glad.
[Talk about an understatement...] Also, did I hear right when you said you'd be performing? There's writing, composing, choreographing... but performing is a bit on the broader spectrum.
[Red eyes glance up from above his drink.] I'm curious as to what you have planned.
Composing and conducting, Herr Salieri. [ what else would he be doing? if they allowed him to take the helm — which they have, in part thanks to how acquainted he's become with the spread of the music scene here — then he'll take the spot in a heartbeat.
as for his plans ... ]
Well, I put myself down for a short vocal performance. [ there's some tentiveness in there, but before he explains he quickly figures he should rundown the format of the show as primer. ] Look, here.
[ amadeus, then, feels it pang in his heart before contact is even made, when he reaches out to take the avenger by the shoulder and pull him in front of the advertisement. ] Ah— [ right... right. bonds. amadeus releases his grip quickly. he has to be careful, doesn't he? ... (see if he will.) ]
My apologies, eheh. But, do you see? [ he tilted his chin down for all of one moment before moving on. ] It's a visual show, Salieri. They want a story. I plan to follow their lead and gently toe the line, if I can. [ get it?? ] It's my chance to write opera for the public again!
[Above all else, Salieri picks up on the brief hesitation that trails after Amadeus's words. His coffee and cream was enough to divert his attention between taste and thought for the most part— but now he focuses fully on the nuanced confidence lacing his tone.
If Salieri didn't know the man next to him so well by now, he might've wondered if Amadeus had ever felt true fear or doubt in his life— and if he had, if he'd ever allow himself to show it.
But you know far better than that.
A scowl threatens to deepen the frown on his lips, a telltale sign of yet another warning on his lips—
—until that hand touches down on his shoulder.
All at once a shock of heat and affection constricts his chest. Every fiber in his being bristles straight in the split second that they remain in contact and when Amadeus pries himself away the ache of the loss radiates all too acutely, too deeply. It takes everything not to allow the affect of it to show on his face, and instead he nods tightly and silently acknowledges that apology.
How... ironic.
Is it the affect of bonds that seize him in such a way, or his own concealed emotions?
To think that it could be a mingling of both has wariness tensing his every limb, brow pinched deeply.] ... If anyone could toe the line between insurrection and standard while still making it sound good, then it'd be you, Amadeus.
[A beat.]
—You mentioned illusion magic. [He gives Amadeus the briefest of glances.] Do you plan on implementing that as well?
a little lingering nervousness pricks at his expression, an awkward smile and a hesitance in his floating, clawed hand before he pulls it away for good.
salieri's compliment quickly becomes a thankful distraction, and after another long sip from his coffee, he regains his excitement. ]
Of course! I hate to say it, but I'm not yet skilled enough to simultaneously conduct and have full control of the illusions — so I'll be counting on the resident illusionists to aid me during the show.
[ there's a little — if one looks for it — tinge of humility in that smile for once. it's a welcome feeling, though, and a nostalgic one, to be able to rely on other musicians and performers and artists to put together a show like this again. ]
They're really a wonderful bunch in there, Salieri, you have to meet them. They're letting me do whatever I want! —Well, just short of having legitimate actors on stage, anyway. [ because, as you know, that would be full-blown theater then. ]
[Equal parts relief and possibly disappointment show across his expression when Amadeus wisely decides to drop his hand. He also briefly occupies himself with his drink— the whipped cream not properly incorporated into the rest of the coffee and gradually draining bit by bit.
What little remains of his sweet drink ends up on the corner of his upper lip- a tuft of fluffy white.] If they are as supportive as you say they are... perhaps I will.
—After I've assessed that they have nothing up their sleeves, rather.
[Hmph.] That being said... should you also need my assistance, Maestro- [He adds in a lower tone.] I'd be happy to assist.
[He exhales suddenly, his arms crossing over his chest as he contemplates.] Perhaps I'll do a solo violin piece.
A solo, Kapellmeister? No accompaniment? [ where's the creativity, the inspiration! he knows full well that salieri is still taking his time adjusting ... but still.
amadeus, for a moment, silently contemplates salieri's earlier offer, looking thoughtful with his hand pressed to his mouth before bringing it down once he has an answer. ] I could certainly use you in the orchestra, Salieri, if you really meant that. [ a sincere smile warms his face. ] Or perhaps you'd like to join the voices? [ his smile, just as warm, widens – quiet hope and energy sparking his eyes. ] Have you maintained your squillo, Herr Salieri?
—Oh, but I don't want to distract you from your performance. [ up, and then down his hand goes as ideas come to him and then quickly pass out his lips. now his excitement is truly visible, words overlapping each other, thoughts coming at him with overwhelming speed.
suddenly, he shakes his head. ] No, no. You should really meet them before you decide! It'll give you a chance to see what's available, and what's already on the list. I'm sure you'll find some ideas— [ there are those backhanded words meant to help salieri again ] here, let's go in! We're right here – I'll introduce you.
[ they are indeed right here, just on the side of the theater building and chatting away. enough talk, it's time for action! but —
distracted and focused as he is, amadeus quickly forgets his reason for keeping his hands to himself — and, suddenly takes salieri's unoccupied wrist to tug him along. this time his heart leaps, and he stops. hesitates ... before throwing caution to the wind – his long-lived rival and victim – and continues along, fingers wrapped just at salieri's cuff. ]
Amadeus's thoughts— his expressions and reservations, they show all too plainly upon that face. Salieri sees it just as Amadeus makes his move— the quick reach for his wrist that nearly prompts a warning to fall from his lips. "Amadeus, wait—"
But he doesn't wait, and once again he is seized with an jolt of exaltation.
And like melting honey the sensation spreads and seeps throughout his chest, into his heart, his core. Salieri lets out an uneasy breath, but at that point is simply too overcome to pull back. As Amadeus tugs him along into the theater he wonders if this infliction will persist even after they've parted... if it will remain his bones and stay with him until he's returned home.
... But that would merely be an affect of being near Amadeus, wouldn't it?
Salieri simply cannot give bonds all of the credit. Somehow, he knows that it has always been this way— that Amadeus has already woven himself so deeply into his mind— so intricately that Salieri long gave up hope of ever untangling himself from him. And now, he's certain he doesn't ever want to. The feeling lessens somewhat with Amadeus holding his cuff, but it doesn't prompt Salieri to pull away. Rather, he feels his own fingers inching toward Amadeus's— just barely brushing against each other.
No, he is content like this. He is grateful for this second (third? fourth?) chance. The chance to remain beside him, the chance to speak to him... and sing for him, apparently.
Yes, perhaps that isn't such a bad idea.
Have you maintained your squillo, Salieri?
Salieri huffs silently. What does Amadeus know? He'll have to prove he hasn't lost his touch after all... after they've spoken to this apparent troupe, that is.]
[ amadeus wakes before salieri does most mornings. since his past life, he's long since mastered the art of silent bed-leaving. in this one, it's all the delicate little details of a suppressant spell that allows for him to battle with the iron and the hair dryer without a peep entering the bedroom.
the sun rises late these days, and amadeus is showered, dressed and prepared to slap together a wonderfully nutritious breakfast of a piece of toast before heading out for the day. ]
[The Avenger turned Chimera was particularly thoughtful the night before. Quiet and distracted, Salieri had finally allowed himself the fitful reprieve of sleep before waking many hours later to- predictably, at that- find Amadeus missing beside him.
He woke alone. It was, as he knew it- the fifth of December.
The fifth...
...
Springing out of the bed, Salieri's heavy paws hit the floor with a resonating thud.] Amadeus?
[He calls, his voice just ever so slightly teetering on the err of panic.]
[ if he can hear the distant sound of wyverns sailing through the sky from miles away, he can certainly hear his bonded uttering his name a couple rooms over. especially so in its quiet urgency. ]
Yes? [ he calls, giving salieri an immediate answer before meeting him.
guessing that the leopard had a nightmare of some kind, amadeus pops his head into the bedroom again, half eaten piece of bread in hand. ] Salieri? You called me?
[From the moment he realized he was alone to the next few minutes of Amadeus popping his head in Salieri could his heart race unreasonably quick in his chest. As he finally takes in the sight of the Maestro just across the room and realizes that yes, he was up before him- as always!—] ...
[His entire being seems to deflate slowly.
He's there. Right there.] Ah.
I did. [Because of course, he can't deny that.] But do not mind it. I was ... startled.
[ meanwhile, amadeus steps further into room, watching salieri go through the motions. there's nothing in the chimera's explanation to make him doubt it, and so he's free to take another slow and casual bite of his toast – sending a gentle dusting of crumbs onto the floor. ]
Ah. Could the chill be giving you fitful sleep, mein Schatz? They say a storm is on the way.
[A brief twitch beneath his eye lets Salieri know that yes, this is no hopeless dream or sleep depraved delusion. The man before him is very much... present, as real as those falling crumbs are.
And while the endearment only promises to soften the reprimand hanging on the tip of his tongue, Salieri finds he cannot will himself to scowl just yet.
Instead he stalls. Keeps him in his line of vision.] Maybe so.
We'll need to make sure the fireplace is properly stocked, Amadeus. [Speaking is a bit easier now.]
[ amadeus is only as willing to move on as salieri is, but he does quickly assume that the man is feeling better after waking up a little more, with that comment.
he flashes a smile. ]
Right. I'll see about picking up some extra lumber on my way back home. We could also do with stocking a few more spiced wines for the evenings, I think!
[It must be the lightness in his step, or the way that smile lifts so easily that tells Salieri that Amadeus has not yet realized the significance of this day.
Briefly he wrangles with this revelation. What is could I even possibly say—] —oh?
[On his way back home?] You're leaving? [He only barely manages to make his words light.]
Not right away, but this month is so busy, Salieri! [ he lifts both arms into the air, bread-occupied hand and not, for emphasis. then begins counting on his fingers. ]
Classes are still on at the Coven, I have gifts still to buy, ideas to discuss with both the music halls and the troupe. Supplies to buy for the cookies ... and much else I'm forgetting at the moment, but my point stands! I'd like to take advantage of the merciful weather before the storm hits while I can.
[It's halfway through Amadeus's winding list of chores that Salieri begins to hear the words meld together.
He focuses only on the gestures which the composer uses to emphasize his points, his parted mouth and wayward strands of hair. To think... that by this time on that day- this day—
—all of that was already gone. Still. Cold.
Drained of life.
Salieri rises suddenly, his tail limp behind him.] No.
[Oh.]
You cannot leave yet, Amadeus. [He cants his head away, unable to meet those vibrant green eyes.]
the word, so pointed and sudden, puts a gentle stop to amadeus's energy. he reels it back, arms lowering as he observes the chimera.
so something else was wrong, after all? ] Huh?
[ still, he tries a smile. ] I told you I don't have to leave right away, but— [ a glance at the clock. 6:30am; roughly an hour and a half until the sun finally rises, if it makes it past the clouds at all ] —well, eventually, I must. What's the matter with you, Salieri?
For what could he possibly say to Amadeus that would warrant his behavior this morning? What words would he even be able to use? What good would come from reminding him of what happened hours ago on this cold morning?
There is none. Stubbornly setting his jaw, the Chimera moves past Amadeus completely and reaches for the closet. Opening the door, he rummages silently through his trousers.
[ amadeus watches that winged back and waits patiently for an answer that never comes. he takes his final bite of toast and dusts away the crumbs from his hand (and shirt) as he does. after another stretch of silence, amadeus approaches – none too close, but certainly angling himself so he can see salieri's expression. ]
... Salieri, what is it? I won't know if you don't tell me. [ with another glance at the clock, he sighs and crosses his arms in thought. ] I suppose I can skip the classes for today – I'm already a few paces ahead with them, after all. But ... I should know why.
[It's not just Amadeus's tentative approach that has the previous Kapellmeister lowering his ears. His voice, his sheer presence inflicts a deep ache within him that Salieri would be all too pleased to tear away from. But it's simply... ]
Wolfgang. [His breath comes out in a rush, as though he were winded simply by speaking his name.] It isn't something I can explain so easily.
Were I to tell you now— [How badly would you be shaken? As much as I?
[ at that huff, amadeus lets out one of his own, his crossed arms beginning to indicate something a little more impatient and put out. is salieri really set to dismiss the topic just like that? "stay in," he says – just because?
amadeus turns on his heel, hair swaying behind him as he waves a hand and makes for the kitchen again. ] Sorry, Salieri. I can't do that. [ staying quiet and obeying never was something he was very good at. ] The coffee is ready when you want it. [ is the last thing he say before he leaves the room. ]
He expected a small spark of Amadeus's defiance. More than anything he expected that, as well as the Maestro's equally stubborn insistence in discussing this tight-lipped matter. He was prepared for it.
What he doesn't expect- surprisingly- is Amadeus leaving the room.
A chill that has very little to do with the cold outside settles in his chest. Salieri shuts the closet door, follows with thinly-veiled anxiety.] Wolfgang, wait.
[ —he's about halfway trotted down the steps when salieri relents.
it wasn't necessarily his intention to force the man to talk – but he definitely wasn't about to wait around for the chimera's mood to pass, or comply with his orders without discussion.
amadeus doesn't move from his spot – hand on the rail as he raises his voice in the direction of the bedroom. ] Yes? What am I waiting for, now?
[From his few steps above Amadeus he briefly takes in the sight of the composer frozen still time in his path. He hesitates, thinks of reaching for him, as though any second now Amadeus would fall through the steps and be swallowed up.
His fingers briefly clench. With measured steps he closes the distance, passing Amadeus- only to look over his shoulder at the Maestro.] The music room, Amadeus.
Please. [Another please. Salieri continues his way down and into the lower level.]
[ another defiant huff expels from his nose. he sorely dislikes games like these, the coy hints and lack of words on an obvious issue. ]
Will you finally stop dodging around and tell me what the matter is? [ yet regardless, amadeus will head downstairs to the designated place. ]
I can play a tune for your nerves, if you'd like. [ there doesn't need to be any special reason why salieri chose that room — music is the way they communicate, express and vent. amadeus understands how highly salieri values his music on all occasions on top of it, but for once, the maestro was hoping they could skip such formalities on what appears to be such an immediate issue. ] But I don't want to play any games. If you don't plan to speak to me, Kapellmeister, I'll leave you alone.
[As Salieri makes his way towards the music room he isn't quite sure if he should feel grateful or exasperated by the Maestro's steadfast prying.
He too dislikes these roundabout games, this dodging about... it certainly isn't like him, and yet. Yet. He sighs yet again and feels a clench in his chest when their piano finally comes into view.
It brings about a reaction he hadn't expected but should have known would come. Reaching for it he brushes his fingers across the first few row of keys.] ...
[His wings gently fold inward, as much as they're able.] Amadeus... to think you have no recollection at all of the significance of this day.
Or perhaps– that is not so surprising at all. [His last words are almost a bitter whisper.]
... no. impossible, he's good with dates! ones that really matter, anyway.
suddenly he feels terribly put on the spot, guilty for some crime unknown to him. ] Wait, what?
The date? [ what is it, then? the 5th? the beginning of december?
... well, he has one idea, and the longer he entertains it in his mind, the more salieri's behavior comes to make sense.
and
yet: ]
... You know, it's been an awful long time since I've referenced the liturgical year, Salieri. If I've forgotten a feast day – or the like, you'll have to forgive me. —Ah. [ wait!! ] I've forgotten to commission the Advent calendar. Is that it?
[... And once again, Amadeus boasts his almost frightening ability to put all matters dreary and dark out of mind. Or rather in this case... out of memory completely.
No, it would not be so easy. God would not make it so painless!
Salieri can't quite help himself then. He lets out a weak breath, less of a chuckle and more like a blow to the chest. How surreal it seems now for them to even be having this conversation...!
He allows the barest of smiles to tilt his lips before he sobers once again.] No, Wolfgang. No.
On this day, many hours ago... [His fingers ghost across the key board. His face becomes tight and miserable.] You fell ill. You were ill.
Do you remember? [Do you remember, when I took your hand?]
[ ... ah. and so his faint speculation is confirmed aloud.
amadeus allows salieri to take the helm, then. to slow their tempo, to tentatively settle the mood into something steep and dreary ... even if he has long since concluded that phase of his post-life process. truthfully, this is salieri's moment more than it is his own.
"do you remember?" hah. ]
You mean when I died. [ even after all this build up, salieri is still unwilling to say it? from this angle, it's difficult to remain gentle when he's already spent mornings very much like this one — cold, frozen occasions in an observatory in the arctic — wondering about his untimely demise.
amidst a small army of servants, his story is nothing special. tame, even, in the way of shakespeare-approved tragedies. ... should he feel grateful that salieri still mourns?
... ]
I can't say I remember much of any of the days prior — running a fatal fever, you see — ... but I've read accounts from my family [ what few were left of it, anyway ] that sound very close to the truth. [ a beat. ] Well, except in one thing. [ his wife, his sister-in-law, his friends, all had recounted details that were at least adjacently correct ... but there is one perspective they could never know. one thing they would never learn about his last days.
fortunately, the memories and visions of amdusias that had engulfed his mind and obscured all else can fill those blanks, piece together the whole morbid picture. ]
I suppose I was long dead by this time? [ spoken like a query; like he were guessing at a simple math problem with a shrug of his shoulders. ]
[The question itself is yet another quiet blow to the chest, but what makes him buckle even more so is the way Amadeus gracefully guesses without even a hint of a hitch in his breath. Yes, his candid reply only further solidified the weight still lodged in his chest.] By this time they had already taken you away.
[Unceremoniously lifted his lifeless body from the bed— as if though he were nothing but a rotted slab of meat—] Nngh.
[Salieri's tempers himself once again, rests his hands upon the piano and hangs his head.] I was there until... I could no longer see the cart, Amadeus. It was as if... God had truly—
[Ripped you away from me.] ...
[The only movement left is the flattening of those thick round ears. He utters, finally:]...Do you understand now?
[There’s a gift left on his doorstep, a box wrapped in black paper and silver ribbon. Inside Salieri shall find a wonderful, layered cake topped with cream, candied cherries and chocolate. It looks delicious!
However, the moment he bites into it, he will realize... that the cake is made entirely of turnips and broccoli, given the appearance of a cake with a bit of Fae magic. The attached note reads as follows: ”You should eat healthier now that you have a human body to maintain!”]
I was wondering if you might help me with something. I've been thinking of my father as of late and I think I'd like to do something in his name. Learn to play or sing or something like that. If you have the time, would you be my tutor? I can pay, of course.
Think nothing of payment. It would be an honor to help you in this endeavor. Something to commend your father... perhaps a song would be suitable. I can help you with lyrics also if need be.
If not payment then a favour in kind at least. Humour an old soul, I hate to receive without giving in turn.
Ah, I wasn't blessed with the same way with words as him and I wouldn't want to shame the name of Aengus Óg by trying. Maybe a folk song. He was always fond of them, even when he had been the one to breathe inspiration into their creators in the first place.
Aye, quite often. We were [Are? After his death, he had technically never left his father's side, albeit in the form of a fleetingly animated statue. Where does the Throne's will factor into that?] close.
Aengus Óg... the god of poetry and talents. From what I know it was said he was both the poet and the lover— a spirit that lived into inspire others through his words. Indeed, those are high expectations to meet. But worry not.
I shall be your libretto if need be. Unless there was a specific instrument you had in mind, we can certainty work on something for you to sing.
As for that favor! I'm afraid I'll have to put that on hold until I see your request fulfilled.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
voice.
[ although all the pleasantries involved in speaking face to (digital) face is at hand thanks to the wonders of video call technology — amadeus prefers the quicker, easier, but still very personal venue of the voice call.
and while he's explored much of it over the open network, this is the first time he'll be pestering someone one on one. time to test this out. after all, there's no better invitation for closeness than having witnessed your fellow composer transform just the night before.
yes. now, salieri, your pocket watch is ringing! across the screen, the name he set it when he received it pops up: MOZART ]
voice.
[ right to it. ]
The Little Melody — one of the music halls here — is hosting an event this month! They're asking for anyone. [ he means well promise ]
You'll come, won't you? Don't decline, now!
video.
[With bated breath he answers— and is almost instantly bombarded with the sound of Amadeus's elated voice ringing the screen. He huffs, squinting through the light of it.] As always, Amadeus... you've certainly had your ear to the ground.
I'm afraid I haven't, but— [What exactly does "anyone" entail??] Be brief. What are you proposing exactly?
voice ⇾ video.
Eheh, are you in a hurry right now, Maestro?
It's a concert, Salieri. With lights and illusion magic. It's named after that phenomenon in Scandinavia, see? [ at that he raises his watch to catch the title of the poster. ] —Oh, can you see it? [ well, regardless of whether or not salieri could catch any details in that brief glimpse, amadeus brings it back down and continues. ] The staff here is looking for performers. Come down here and sign up!
video.
Either way, it all sounds very straight-forward and perhaps just a little tempting. He squints through the shaking camera and huffs when that bright smile makes itself known again.] Amadeus, hopefully you're aware that I haven't been a performer in some time.
... Although I admit I'm curious. [Is his follow-up mutter. How did Amadeus even find out about this new event so quickly?? Well, not that it matters now... and he's certainly not doing much by sitting at home. Salieri hums.]
Don't move then. I'd like to see the quality of their advertising for myself. [Give him a minute.]
video.
still, "don't move" is more of a demand than salieri likely realizes, as happy as his concession makes him. ]
What?? You can't expect me to stand here that long, Salieri...
I'm going to go get a coffee, okay? Tell me what you want, and I'll meet you here in twenty minutes.
video.
A cafe mocha with chocolate drizzle on the top. If not that then an espresso will do.
I'll be seeing you shortly, Amadeus. [Ok, there goes his feed. Did you hear everything correctly, Amadeus??]
video ⇾ action.
at a cafe a block away, amadeus orders the espresso for himself, and the sweet chocolate coffee for salieri, and carries them over to the front of the music hall. just under twenty minutes. ]
action.
The Little Melody was a setting he had taken notice of in passing but nothing more. To think, however, that the city would allow for such talent to shine for once... he wonders what limitations have been painstakingly chained to such an offer. He supposes he'll find out once he reaches Amadeus.
And reaches him he does. It's not so surreal now, to see one stiff Kapellmeister approaching the composer with wide, deliberate steps. His heavy paws pad silently across the street, perfectly predatory in every. Luckily (for Amadeus), Salieri has other prey set in his sights.
Such as one mocha waiting for him, topped with cream and drizzled how he likes it. He hums when he's finally close enough.] Tante grazie, Amadeus.
... I admit I had trouble believing you earlier. [He says with a glance towards the humble music hall before them.] And yet here we are.
action.
amadeus shrugs at the show of gratitude. it's a little strange to, for once, have the kapellmeister in his debt rather than the other way around (he's yet to pay him back for that cake!). as though something isn't quite right with the world.
he supposes he only has the avenger's disposition and feline limbs to thank for that.
amadeus takes a long sip from his coffee before raising an eyebrow at the other. ] About what? The event? What's the use in making that up?
action.
I had thought Parliament was a bit more heavy-handed than this. [With a huff. It's a bit too obvious now...] I'm suspicious.
Do you think it unnecessary? [Be honest, he can take it...]
action.
… but it's onto business now. ] Heh. Again with that?
[ he raises his coffee-free arm, offers his palm up and a look at his intact middle. ] You see me, Salieri. I'm unhurt. Unpunished. I've been getting by just fine with my … [ a suspicious little glance behind him, before he turns back with a smirk ] … night troupe.
[ then he pulls back and shrugs. ] I'll admit it's unforgivably annoying. They seem to remember the rules only when it's convenient – but why worry about it? The event isn't run by Parliament. There's plenty of similarly rambunctious spirits here with a love for theater.
action.
Salieri begrudgingly accepts this fact— has accepted it, since the first day he willingly sat across from the man and offered him sweets with tea. As though every obstacle in their path so far was simply a trivial misunderstanding, Amadeus spreads the pathways of his thoughts with an easy smile and a flick of his wrist. A deep envy once pitted his very being at such a thought, at the very notion that the composer could and would do whatever it took to create music.
Now that envy is replaced with something warmer— something indisputably more ardent.
Still, he can't help the way his expression sours at the mention of Amadeus's shady night troupe.] By some miracle you are unhurt. I've already extended my warnings, Amadeus... [A sigh.] but I'll admit, I'm glad.
[Talk about an understatement...] Also, did I hear right when you said you'd be performing? There's writing, composing, choreographing... but performing is a bit on the broader spectrum.
[Red eyes glance up from above his drink.] I'm curious as to what you have planned.
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as for his plans ... ]
Well, I put myself down for a short vocal performance. [ there's some tentiveness in there, but before he explains he quickly figures he should rundown the format of the show as primer. ] Look, here.
[ amadeus, then, feels it pang in his heart before contact is even made, when he reaches out to take the avenger by the shoulder and pull him in front of the advertisement. ] Ah— [ right... right. bonds. amadeus releases his grip quickly. he has to be careful, doesn't he? ... (see if he will.) ]
My apologies, eheh. But, do you see? [ he tilted his chin down for all of one moment before moving on. ] It's a visual show, Salieri. They want a story. I plan to follow their lead and gently toe the line, if I can. [ get it?? ] It's my chance to write opera for the public again!
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If Salieri didn't know the man next to him so well by now, he might've wondered if Amadeus had ever felt true fear or doubt in his life— and if he had, if he'd ever allow himself to show it.
But you know far better than that.
A scowl threatens to deepen the frown on his lips, a telltale sign of yet another warning on his lips—
—until that hand touches down on his shoulder.
All at once a shock of heat and affection constricts his chest. Every fiber in his being bristles straight in the split second that they remain in contact and when Amadeus pries himself away the ache of the loss radiates all too acutely, too deeply. It takes everything not to allow the affect of it to show on his face, and instead he nods tightly and silently acknowledges that apology.
How... ironic.
Is it the affect of bonds that seize him in such a way, or his own concealed emotions?
To think that it could be a mingling of both has wariness tensing his every limb, brow pinched deeply.] ... If anyone could toe the line between insurrection and standard while still making it sound good, then it'd be you, Amadeus.
[A beat.]
—You mentioned illusion magic. [He gives Amadeus the briefest of glances.] Do you plan on implementing that as well?
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he would have to truly be trying to miss that.
a little lingering nervousness pricks at his expression, an awkward smile and a hesitance in his floating, clawed hand before he pulls it away for good.
salieri's compliment quickly becomes a thankful distraction, and after another long sip from his coffee, he regains his excitement. ]
Of course! I hate to say it, but I'm not yet skilled enough to simultaneously conduct and have full control of the illusions — so I'll be counting on the resident illusionists to aid me during the show.
[ there's a little — if one looks for it — tinge of humility in that smile for once. it's a welcome feeling, though, and a nostalgic one, to be able to rely on other musicians and performers and artists to put together a show like this again. ]
They're really a wonderful bunch in there, Salieri, you have to meet them. They're letting me do whatever I want! —Well, just short of having legitimate actors on stage, anyway. [ because, as you know, that would be full-blown theater then. ]
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What little remains of his sweet drink ends up on the corner of his upper lip- a tuft of fluffy white.] If they are as supportive as you say they are... perhaps I will.
—After I've assessed that they have nothing up their sleeves, rather.
[Hmph.] That being said... should you also need my assistance, Maestro- [He adds in a lower tone.] I'd be happy to assist.
[He exhales suddenly, his arms crossing over his chest as he contemplates.] Perhaps I'll do a solo violin piece.
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amadeus, for a moment, silently contemplates salieri's earlier offer, looking thoughtful with his hand pressed to his mouth before bringing it down once he has an answer. ] I could certainly use you in the orchestra, Salieri, if you really meant that. [ a sincere smile warms his face. ] Or perhaps you'd like to join the voices? [ his smile, just as warm, widens – quiet hope and energy sparking his eyes. ] Have you maintained your squillo, Herr Salieri?
—Oh, but I don't want to distract you from your performance. [ up, and then down his hand goes as ideas come to him and then quickly pass out his lips. now his excitement is truly visible, words overlapping each other, thoughts coming at him with overwhelming speed.
suddenly, he shakes his head. ] No, no. You should really meet them before you decide! It'll give you a chance to see what's available, and what's already on the list. I'm sure you'll find some ideas— [ there are those backhanded words meant to help salieri again ] here, let's go in! We're right here – I'll introduce you.
[ they are indeed right here, just on the side of the theater building and chatting away. enough talk, it's time for action! but —
distracted and focused as he is, amadeus quickly forgets his reason for keeping his hands to himself — and, suddenly takes salieri's unoccupied wrist to tug him along. this time his heart leaps, and he stops. hesitates ... before throwing caution to the wind – his long-lived rival and victim – and continues along, fingers wrapped just at salieri's cuff. ]
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Amadeus's thoughts— his expressions and reservations, they show all too plainly upon that face. Salieri sees it just as Amadeus makes his move— the quick reach for his wrist that nearly prompts a warning to fall from his lips. "Amadeus, wait—"
But he doesn't wait, and once again he is seized with an jolt of exaltation.
And like melting honey the sensation spreads and seeps throughout his chest, into his heart, his core. Salieri lets out an uneasy breath, but at that point is simply too overcome to pull back. As Amadeus tugs him along into the theater he wonders if this infliction will persist even after they've parted... if it will remain his bones and stay with him until he's returned home.
... But that would merely be an affect of being near Amadeus, wouldn't it?
Salieri simply cannot give bonds all of the credit. Somehow, he knows that it has always been this way— that Amadeus has already woven himself so deeply into his mind— so intricately that Salieri long gave up hope of ever untangling himself from him. And now, he's certain he doesn't ever want to. The feeling lessens somewhat with Amadeus holding his cuff, but it doesn't prompt Salieri to pull away. Rather, he feels his own fingers inching toward Amadeus's— just barely brushing against each other.
No, he is content like this. He is grateful for this second (third? fourth?) chance. The chance to remain beside him, the chance to speak to him... and sing for him, apparently.
Yes, perhaps that isn't such a bad idea.
Have you maintained your squillo, Salieri?
Salieri huffs silently. What does Amadeus know? He'll have to prove he hasn't lost his touch after all... after they've spoken to this apparent troupe, that is.]
december 5th, action.
the sun rises late these days, and amadeus is showered, dressed and prepared to slap together a wonderfully nutritious breakfast of a piece of toast before heading out for the day. ]
action.
He woke alone. It was, as he knew it- the fifth of December.
The fifth...
...
Springing out of the bed, Salieri's heavy paws hit the floor with a resonating thud.] Amadeus?
[He calls, his voice just ever so slightly teetering on the err of panic.]
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Yes? [ he calls, giving salieri an immediate answer before meeting him.
guessing that the leopard had a nightmare of some kind, amadeus pops his head into the bedroom again, half eaten piece of bread in hand. ] Salieri? You called me?
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[His entire being seems to deflate slowly.
He's there. Right there.] Ah.
I did. [Because of course, he can't deny that.] But do not mind it. I was ... startled.
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Ah. Could the chill be giving you fitful sleep, mein Schatz? They say a storm is on the way.
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And while the endearment only promises to soften the reprimand hanging on the tip of his tongue, Salieri finds he cannot will himself to scowl just yet.
Instead he stalls. Keeps him in his line of vision.] Maybe so.
We'll need to make sure the fireplace is properly stocked, Amadeus. [Speaking is a bit easier now.]
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he flashes a smile. ]
Right. I'll see about picking up some extra lumber on my way back home. We could also do with stocking a few more spiced wines for the evenings, I think!
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Briefly he wrangles with this revelation. What is could I even possibly say—] —oh?
[On his way back home?] You're leaving? [He only barely manages to make his words light.]
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[ he is only showered and dressed! ]
Not right away, but this month is so busy, Salieri! [ he lifts both arms into the air, bread-occupied hand and not, for emphasis. then begins counting on his fingers. ]
Classes are still on at the Coven, I have gifts still to buy, ideas to discuss with both the music halls and the troupe. Supplies to buy for the cookies ... and much else I'm forgetting at the moment, but my point stands! I'd like to take advantage of the merciful weather before the storm hits while I can.
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He focuses only on the gestures which the composer uses to emphasize his points, his parted mouth and wayward strands of hair. To think... that by this time on that day- this day—
—all of that was already gone. Still. Cold.
Drained of life.
Salieri rises suddenly, his tail limp behind him.] No.
[Oh.]
You cannot leave yet, Amadeus. [He cants his head away, unable to meet those vibrant green eyes.]
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the word, so pointed and sudden, puts a gentle stop to amadeus's energy. he reels it back, arms lowering as he observes the chimera.
so something else was wrong, after all? ] Huh?
[ still, he tries a smile. ] I told you I don't have to leave right away, but— [ a glance at the clock. 6:30am; roughly an hour and a half until the sun finally rises, if it makes it past the clouds at all ] —well, eventually, I must. What's the matter with you, Salieri?
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For what could he possibly say to Amadeus that would warrant his behavior this morning? What words would he even be able to use? What good would come from reminding him of what happened hours ago on this cold morning?
There is none. Stubbornly setting his jaw, the Chimera moves past Amadeus completely and reaches for the closet. Opening the door, he rummages silently through his trousers.
No point in going back to sleep.]
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... Salieri, what is it? I won't know if you don't tell me. [ with another glance at the clock, he sighs and crosses his arms in thought. ] I suppose I can skip the classes for today – I'm already a few paces ahead with them, after all. But ... I should know why.
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Wolfgang. [His breath comes out in a rush, as though he were winded simply by speaking his name.] It isn't something I can explain so easily.
Were I to tell you now— [How badly would you be shaken? As much as I?
Salieri frowns.] Stay in for today. Per favore.
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amadeus turns on his heel, hair swaying behind him as he waves a hand and makes for the kitchen again. ] Sorry, Salieri. I can't do that. [ staying quiet and obeying never was something he was very good at. ] The coffee is ready when you want it. [ is the last thing he say before he leaves the room. ]
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He expected a small spark of Amadeus's defiance. More than anything he expected that, as well as the Maestro's equally stubborn insistence in discussing this tight-lipped matter. He was prepared for it.
What he doesn't expect- surprisingly- is Amadeus leaving the room.
A chill that has very little to do with the cold outside settles in his chest. Salieri shuts the closet door, follows with thinly-veiled anxiety.] Wolfgang, wait.
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it wasn't necessarily his intention to force the man to talk – but he definitely wasn't about to wait around for the chimera's mood to pass, or comply with his orders without discussion.
amadeus doesn't move from his spot – hand on the rail as he raises his voice in the direction of the bedroom. ] Yes? What am I waiting for, now?
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His fingers briefly clench. With measured steps he closes the distance, passing Amadeus- only to look over his shoulder at the Maestro.] The music room, Amadeus.
Please. [Another please. Salieri continues his way down and into the lower level.]
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Will you finally stop dodging around and tell me what the matter is? [ yet regardless, amadeus will head downstairs to the designated place. ]
I can play a tune for your nerves, if you'd like. [ there doesn't need to be any special reason why salieri chose that room — music is the way they communicate, express and vent. amadeus understands how highly salieri values his music on all occasions on top of it, but for once, the maestro was hoping they could skip such formalities on what appears to be such an immediate issue. ] But I don't want to play any games. If you don't plan to speak to me, Kapellmeister, I'll leave you alone.
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He too dislikes these roundabout games, this dodging about... it certainly isn't like him, and yet. Yet. He sighs yet again and feels a clench in his chest when their piano finally comes into view.
It brings about a reaction he hadn't expected but should have known would come. Reaching for it he brushes his fingers across the first few row of keys.] ...
[His wings gently fold inward, as much as they're able.] Amadeus... to think you have no recollection at all of the significance of this day.
Or perhaps– that is not so surprising at all. [His last words are almost a bitter whisper.]
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... no. impossible, he's good with dates! ones that really matter, anyway.
suddenly he feels terribly put on the spot, guilty for some crime unknown to him. ] Wait, what?
The date? [ what is it, then? the 5th? the beginning of december?
... well, he has one idea, and the longer he entertains it in his mind, the more salieri's behavior comes to make sense.
and
yet: ]
... You know, it's been an awful long time since I've referenced the liturgical year, Salieri. If I've forgotten a feast day – or the like, you'll have to forgive me. —Ah. [ wait!! ] I've forgotten to commission the Advent calendar. Is that it?
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No, it would not be so easy. God would not make it so painless!
Salieri can't quite help himself then. He lets out a weak breath, less of a chuckle and more like a blow to the chest. How surreal it seems now for them to even be having this conversation...!
He allows the barest of smiles to tilt his lips before he sobers once again.] No, Wolfgang. No.
On this day, many hours ago... [His fingers ghost across the key board. His face becomes tight and miserable.] You fell ill. You were ill.
Do you remember? [Do you remember, when I took your hand?]
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amadeus allows salieri to take the helm, then. to slow their tempo, to tentatively settle the mood into something steep and dreary ... even if he has long since concluded that phase of his post-life process. truthfully, this is salieri's moment more than it is his own.
"do you remember?" hah. ]
You mean when I died. [ even after all this build up, salieri is still unwilling to say it? from this angle, it's difficult to remain gentle when he's already spent mornings very much like this one — cold, frozen occasions in an observatory in the arctic — wondering about his untimely demise.
amidst a small army of servants, his story is nothing special. tame, even, in the way of shakespeare-approved tragedies. ... should he feel grateful that salieri still mourns?
... ]
I can't say I remember much of any of the days prior — running a fatal fever, you see — ... but I've read accounts from my family [ what few were left of it, anyway ] that sound very close to the truth. [ a beat. ] Well, except in one thing. [ his wife, his sister-in-law, his friends, all had recounted details that were at least adjacently correct ... but there is one perspective they could never know. one thing they would never learn about his last days.
fortunately, the memories and visions of amdusias that had engulfed his mind and obscured all else can fill those blanks, piece together the whole morbid picture. ]
I suppose I was long dead by this time? [ spoken like a query; like he were guessing at a simple math problem with a shrug of his shoulders. ]
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[Unceremoniously lifted his lifeless body from the bed— as if though he were nothing but a rotted slab of meat—] Nngh.
[Salieri's tempers himself once again, rests his hands upon the piano and hangs his head.] I was there until... I could no longer see the cart, Amadeus. It was as if... God had truly—
[Ripped you away from me.] ...
[The only movement left is the flattening of those thick round ears. He utters, finally:]...Do you understand now?
modranicht gift
However, the moment he bites into it, he will realize... that the cake is made entirely of turnips and broccoli, given the appearance of a cake with a bit of Fae magic. The attached note reads as follows: ”You should eat healthier now that you have a human body to maintain!”]
text
I was wondering if you might help me with something. I've been thinking of my father as of late and I think I'd like to do something in his name. Learn to play or sing or something like that. If you have the time, would you be my tutor? I can pay, of course.
Diarmuid
text.
Think nothing of payment. It would be an honor to help you in this endeavor. Something to commend your father... perhaps a song would be suitable. I can help you with lyrics also if need be.
Do you often think of him?
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Ah, I wasn't blessed with the same way with words as him and I wouldn't want to shame the name of Aengus Óg by trying. Maybe a folk song. He was always fond of them, even when he had been the one to breathe inspiration into their creators in the first place.
Aye, quite often. We were [Are? After his death, he had technically never left his father's side, albeit in the form of a fleetingly animated statue. Where does the Throne's will factor into that?] close.
text.
I shall be your libretto if need be. Unless there was a specific instrument you had in mind, we can certainty work on something for you to sing.
As for that favor! I'm afraid I'll have to put that on hold until I see your request fulfilled.
How soon would you like this done?