and you may find yourself in another part of the world

[withrocksin]

The door opens on a rather odd scene: Two humans, a dwarf, a troll, a rather tall skeleton, and a guitar, if a very primitive-looking one, apparently on the edge of a ravine of some sort. It's dusk, but not for much longer, from the looks of it.
It's also... oddly silent. Like some sort of background noise is missing.
this song is over; it's all

Comments

[stopatakiss]

Ivy came in a day or two ago, but has been busy getting Mallory used to the Inn again. A little outside time, and a lot of time upstairs.

And now, having left the wee one in Sue's care for a few hours (Sue has to get used to that, or else), Ivy's downstairs with a mug of coffee. When the door opens, she looks over. And stares.

And then there's the resonating, and Ivy has to resist the urge to try to match pitch, because she's not that good, all those harmonics, she wouldn't know which pitch to match.

"Who... where... what the fuck?"

[withrocksin]

I might ask you the same thing.
After all, they're all good questions. And one never knows when someone might be... susceptible.

[stopatakiss]

Ivy might just be a tad susceptible to the music. Just maybe.

"Um." She's looking around a bit, like she's trying to figure out where it's coming from. "I don't... what the hell are you?"

[withrocksin]

Oh, it probably noticed her attempting not to match pitch. It picks up on things like that rather quickly, considering.
I'm the beat that keeps the universe moving. The rhythm in its soul, if you will.
Some might call such a statement narcissism, but it nothing more than the truth.

[stopatakiss]

Ivy raises an eyebrow at... well, nothing. But directed at the Music.

"Right. Okay. Non-corporeal personified music."

And then, under her breath, "If Peter ever hears I said that and feigns shock at the big words, I'll kill him."

[withrocksin]

Are such things uncommon, where you come from?
Whether it means the big words or the first bit is anyone's guess. (Except for where it's probably the first bit.)

[stopatakiss]

Yeah, probably is. Ivy scoffs a little. "Uh, yeah. Uncommon like... non-existent."

Still trying not to match pitch.

Mentally, she's picking out chords.

[withrocksin]

Oh, it's beginning to suspect she's a good one.
jump up, look around, find yourself some fun
Pity, that. How does your life find its rhythm?

[stopatakiss]

Ivy shrugs a little tapping out a bit of a rhythm on her leg.

"I dunno. You just... make your own rhythm. Find the rhythm of the world, take it in, put it to use. I don't know how to explain it, I just do it."

Make your own kind of music...

[withrocksin]

Ah, but something's there for you to find. That implies some measure of innate music, whether it speaks as... directly as I like to.
give me back my lack of reason
The narration considered advising Ivy to look out, but... well. Probably a bit late for that.

[stopatakiss]

A bit late?

Ivy purses her lips for a moment, thinking, then laughs a little. "Yeah, I guess so. Funny, that."

It's already started to seep into her mind a bit

Fear.

[withrocksin]

Oh, you know. Ever so slightly late.
it's only teenage wasteland...
Tell me, who are you?

(Narration apologizes for the overdose of Who lyrics. It's just... they work.)

[stopatakiss]

(Narration loves the lyrics, it's fine.)

"Uh... Ivy. I'm Ivy."

Ivy, a mess of a teen, actress, singer, song-writer.
Silently the senses abandon their defenses...
Yeah, the Music'll get a good run from her.

[withrocksin]

Well, Ivy, I must say it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.
I'll stay beside you and comfort your soul when you are lonely and broken
It's got a hunch that she's one to watch over. Almost like she could use the spark of life it offers like no other.

[stopatakiss]

"Charmed, I'm sure," she says dryly.

But, really, how could she not be charmed by the thought of personified music?