[Isn't that a lovely song you hear coming from your journal? But isn't it giving you the strangest sense of deja vu? Maybe you have heard it before, maybe you haven't. Either way, just enjoy it c:]
This is a beautiful piece. It resounds with the soul. Not many songs are able to do that. I feel like the music creates a scene all on its own. Something eerily beautiful.
It sounds similar to something my life would sound like within the past year or so.
I think it's time I begin that screen-writing after all. Thank you for the prompt.
[Thinking of her art school, love of film, and how the music touches her so.]
Music is important--more so than many people realize. A play or film without sound would be missing its largest asset. There would be little feeling or emotion, otherwise. Oftentimes visualization is not enough.
[Smiles at this.]
I'm afraid your audience here may not have the same taste you do--or the same appreciation. I am sure some here will enjoy your music, though.
[Hey Erik, that's a pretty cool trick! Getting the song in stereo with the book open and hearing you down the hall. It's really lovely but the girl that got stuck in the bower with for the sand-storm, learned her lesson about going and bugging you personally before. She can hear the music, recognize the tune but will not come over.
[The minute Erik hears the violin, he stops playing. Where is that coming from. Did Raoul follow him out here? He was going to ride out the storm here in the bower. And to have the Vicomte alone would be...well all too perfect. He gets up to investigate and when he sees the source, well he's definitely surprised.
I know Erik's touchy about an audience, Isabella, but I hope you're not.]
[She could not help the little smile that graced her lips as she heard the piano stop, knowing that likely the odd composer was investigating the noise she was making. She was standing off to the side in the sewing room, and managed to get the dust off of most everything she was wearing. Except her wings had taken on a reddish hue and as she moves, a downy puff occasionally shakes loose. Thin white lines trail on the right side of her face. A lot has happened since you were gone, composer.
Now, a bard's livelihood is the audience they play for. Music needs ears to listen to it. With her audience being another musician she decides to take the last piece and launch into new one; showing off a little. At the end of the second piece she looks over at Erik and smiles.]
Comments 13
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Have we met?
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mo2tly no.
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My
God
Sollux, what is wrong with your words? This isn't algebra, you know.]
I beg your pardon?
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It sounds similar to something my life would sound like within the past year or so.
I think it's time I begin that screen-writing after all. Thank you for the prompt.
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Music has that kind of power.
[And considering the two *ahem* people who replied above you, your appreciation for his music does not go amiss.]
I am happy my music moves you so.
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Music is important--more so than many people realize. A play or film without sound would be missing its largest asset. There would be little feeling or emotion, otherwise. Oftentimes visualization is not enough.
[Smiles at this.]
I'm afraid your audience here may not have the same taste you do--or the same appreciation. I am sure some here will enjoy your music, though.
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Instead she takes her violin, and plays this little piece.]
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I know Erik's touchy about an audience, Isabella, but I hope you're not.]
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Now, a bard's livelihood is the audience they play for. Music needs ears to listen to it. With her audience being another musician she decides to take the last piece and launch into new one; showing off a little. At the end of the second piece she looks over at Erik and smiles.]
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