descendency (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
descendency) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
westwhere2021-08-09 07:53 pm
descendency) wrote in westwhere2021-08-09 07:53 pm
life's tragedies are easy to overcome / 生劫易渡
WHO: resident angel of music and YOU (and whatever hapless bystander is right next to you.)
WHEN: whilst we hustle for Macaluso's favor for our dear Odile
WHERE: some scenic location in the setting sun, romantic and serene
WHAT: mingyu is playing the erhu to set the mood for the sweet(???) budding couple. his song fills the hearts of all those who hear it with aching, bittersweet longing, a yearning to love and be loved, are possessed of the notion that there is no more ideal partner than the one beside you! the effects will linger, ebbing over the next few days, even weeks. oocly this can do whatever you want, it can affect your character a little, a lot, skip over them entirely. whatever is most fun! essentially this kind of magic isn't something mingyu has practiced a lot, so while he can make it do what he wants it to do, his aim is not as... precise... as it might otherwise prove. an airstrike vs. sniper approach to a problem.
WARNINGS: shenanigans
A street musician sets up in a quiet alcove as the sun starts to set over Taravast, waters turning to gold in the fading light. It's a strange, foreign instrument the stranger plays, perched upright in his chair. When he draws the bow, a haunting, mournful note is wrought from the strings, drawing out into a melancholy melody. It's somehow clear as day, as the song goes on. This song is meant for two voices, joined in song, in love, in life, and beyond. That understanding soaks into the audience, able to almost, almost, so very nearly hear the duet and yet there is only the solitary sound of the strings.
It carves dissonance into the listener's heart, a grief and longing that demands remedy.
Mingyu pours himself into every note, shuts his eyes beneath the mask and remembers. His empty bed. The silence. The stillness. He sways with his music, weaving his magic through the air, until it's saturated with his heartache and regret.
The song amplifies existing emotions and plants seeds in barren soil, emotions spurred on by the underlying fear of regret caused by inaction. Those affected will feel driven to do something, anything about these awoken affections, lest the depths of Mingyu's grief become their future.
As the last note of Mingyu's song fades, he stops himself, breathes, counts to ten, and starts a new song to maintain his image as a street musician and nothing more. This song has no magical effects, though his hands are a little clumsier to start. The music smooths out as he composes himself, and he makes his departure after finishing a short set of similar music.
WHEN: whilst we hustle for Macaluso's favor for our dear Odile
WHERE: some scenic location in the setting sun, romantic and serene
WHAT: mingyu is playing the erhu to set the mood for the sweet(???) budding couple. his song fills the hearts of all those who hear it with aching, bittersweet longing, a yearning to love and be loved, are possessed of the notion that there is no more ideal partner than the one beside you! the effects will linger, ebbing over the next few days, even weeks. oocly this can do whatever you want, it can affect your character a little, a lot, skip over them entirely. whatever is most fun! essentially this kind of magic isn't something mingyu has practiced a lot, so while he can make it do what he wants it to do, his aim is not as... precise... as it might otherwise prove. an airstrike vs. sniper approach to a problem.
WARNINGS: shenanigans
A street musician sets up in a quiet alcove as the sun starts to set over Taravast, waters turning to gold in the fading light. It's a strange, foreign instrument the stranger plays, perched upright in his chair. When he draws the bow, a haunting, mournful note is wrought from the strings, drawing out into a melancholy melody. It's somehow clear as day, as the song goes on. This song is meant for two voices, joined in song, in love, in life, and beyond. That understanding soaks into the audience, able to almost, almost, so very nearly hear the duet and yet there is only the solitary sound of the strings.
It carves dissonance into the listener's heart, a grief and longing that demands remedy.
Mingyu pours himself into every note, shuts his eyes beneath the mask and remembers. His empty bed. The silence. The stillness. He sways with his music, weaving his magic through the air, until it's saturated with his heartache and regret.
The song amplifies existing emotions and plants seeds in barren soil, emotions spurred on by the underlying fear of regret caused by inaction. Those affected will feel driven to do something, anything about these awoken affections, lest the depths of Mingyu's grief become their future.
As the last note of Mingyu's song fades, he stops himself, breathes, counts to ten, and starts a new song to maintain his image as a street musician and nothing more. This song has no magical effects, though his hands are a little clumsier to start. The music smooths out as he composes himself, and he makes his departure after finishing a short set of similar music.
no subject
... he sighs, softly. The emotions and desires that he manages to keep to the... not back, but like the middle of his mind float up to the front, and his eyes helplessly move to the man next to him, gaze inadvertently heated behind the mask, lips twisting in the all too familiar not-smile--
Which then freezes, and he shifts closer so he can speak very softly, his own, well, arousal making his voice a little huskier than usual.
"Are you all right?"
The mask may cover Moran's face, but Xunxian knows the way Moran moves, and right now it doesn't seem right.
no subject
Right now, Xunxian's voice seems to make an electric current go down his spine, and it is not helping his current condition.
He counteracts it with all the rigidity a prince's spine is capable of taking. It won't fool Xunxian, but they are in public!
".... I'll be fine."
At least, it's not a lie.
no subject
"Of course. If it will help to escort you to some privacy, just let me know."
Moran might want to stay and listen more, the melody is nearly hauntingly beautiful. Or e might want away from the crowd. Or away from him. Xunxian won't try to presume.
no subject
"... Later. Once this little show is over. Leaving now would be too noticeable and possibly detrimental."
They are supposed to be here for the lady, after all.
no subject
"Of course."
He'll stay close, though carefully not touching as he's not sure what is going on and what made Moran's spine stiffen like this, and listen through the end of the performance. Then watch as two snow-white doves gently circle first lady Odile, then her wished-for husband, then spiral upwards as though twining their fates together. This is not the main thing he will be doing of course not, but this should be a nice wrap up, no words to break the spell of Bai Mingyu's music but definitely focus on their goal.
no subject
he's not unfamiliar with what it is he is feeling, and more completely puzzled by how it happened here and now... and also how to get away from people and recover more or less gracefully.
no subject
Xunxian sends a small messenger bird to delay the performance he has planned, slipping over to his side and holding out a flask of water and stepping possibly a touch too close - to shield him from view, of course.
"Moran? Should I-- what do you need?"
no subject
He knows if he can get just a quarter of an hour to sit and just be away from people, he's probably going to be fine.
"I don't know what happened. I think... I think it might have been the music?"
no subject
"The music?" Xunxian blinks, considering the music. And its effect on him. He blinks, then takes a sharp breath.
"Are you--" Thinking of Feifei? No, he can't ask that. There are wounds that are better untouched.
"The water is not too cold, but it's fresh enough. Give me a moment to get the distraction going and we'll be able to slip out so I can settle you at our resting location.
"Does that suit?"
Asking before acting.
no subject
Xunxian has been planning this, and it's a necessary step to their arrival in the city. Moran can wait five more minutes.
"Go. Do what you have to do. I'll be fine."