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[liedol]

Stage Manager/tech guy Sylvain

[ruinedsky]

[This is not what his family had predicted for him when he got his degree in mathematics and electrical engineering. However, not even his strict old-fashioned father could argue with the results. Sylvain Gautier is now one of the most sought after stage managers and designers in the industry. Usually, doing tech means being invisible, but Sylvain's work is anything but. He is legendary for custom lighting effects and sound design that enhance the performance of any musician who steps onto his stage. So of course it was only inevitable that he would work with Ai.]

[There's something about her that he likes more than the other idols he's worked with. He can't quite put his finger on it. When he asked his friend, Felix, who works security at his shows what it might be, Felix scoffed that he didn't want to hear about Sylvain's new crush. That's not it! Well, he won't deny that she's beautiful, and mesmerizing on stage, but that isn't what he means this time! At least, he thinks so.]

[A presence like Ai, and a voice like that, means he has to bring his A-game. The venue they're preparing for is huge, but the lighting system is outdated. Sylvain intends to fix that. He has brought in his own lighting board and is busy connecting it with the system already in place. He has studio headphones on, listening to Ai's music, of course, as he works. He would be easy to sneak up on from the right angle.]

[foolaround]

[ it would be a stretch to say kotone and ai had been friends, when they were kids. a group home wasn't exactly conducive to forming those kind of overtly positive connections, especially among damaged children. they got each other back then, though, in a way that kotone had found troubling more often than not. she hated the idea of being seen through, and ai hadn't been much different. and as they were around the same age, they'd tended to be grouped together for things back then, so the two of them at least spent a decent amount of time together.

kotone had always been interested in music. it was one of the only things she could confidently say she liked, at one point, really. after ai was scouted and moved out, she began focusing on it more and more, until—well, it wasn't as if she wanted to ride ai's coattails, exactly. but she had put a demo together of a few songs she'd written and composed, accompanying herself on piano and guitar, and sent it to ai just... to ask her opinion. next she knew, she was in talks with ai's agency. she wasn't being scouted, or offered any sort of contract just yet, but... well, clearly, someone had put a word in with the agency's president. room, board, and entrance in an arts high school's music program on ichipro's dime, with the only apparent catch being a first look deal on kotone's music.

she said yes. of course she said yes.

things carried on like that, for a little while, with both of them on different paths but headed in the same direction. since then—well, she doesn't know what she'd call her dynamic with ai. not quite colleagues, not quite friends. family, too, isn't right. not that kotone remembers what family feels like, anymore.

she's there when it becomes apparent that ai's pregnant, even if saitou is still in denial about the situation. she suspects whose it is—she's only met the boy in passing, and she'd honestly found him offputting, but she'd kept her mouth shut at the time given that ai clearly liked him. (then again, most boys have an uphill climb to make, when it comes to shiomi kotone.)

she doesn't ask, because she knows ai wouldn't tell her. so they leave it at that. kotone... takes some time off of school. she's ever the overachiever, involved in too many clubs to some extent or another, top scores—but it isn't exactly easy to make the constant trips to takachiho work. she's not even sure why she bothers—saitou's been there with her, and by all accounts, things are fine. but she goes anyway. the only real trouble is when kamiki—shock of shocks—and some creepy guy come poking around the hospital when ai's supposed to be due. kotone confronts them and makes enough of a fuss that security gets involved, and... well, that's the worst that happens.

now, though? now? the agency's seen fit to put her in the apartment where they've put up ai and the twins. she's... more okay with this arrangement than she expected to be. and she's less of a disaster around the house than ai, frankly. she's still going to school, but she's cut her extracurriculars down and heads home, most days. ruby's asleep, aqua's feeding, while the tv hums aimlessly. ]

... I'm not second-guessing you here or anything, and they're great, but... why were you so sure you wanted to keep 'em?

just pretend i'm using fancy icons and i'm not at work to make them. anyway

[pryftigern]

[
let words and deeds be the essence.
let clay be the foundation for our great witch's secrets.
a simple test. a ritual written about in an old family diary; a note in the margins that promises "to grant any wish." so what if it's obviously fake? so what if magic isn't real? even if it's just to cheer yourself up, faking a spell has some magic to it anyway. wouldn't you agree?

the beknighted song becomes a wall of light.
the gates in the four directions close, coming from the crown; the three-forked road through the storybook kingdom winds to the castle.
a moment of true belief. a moment of self-deceiving faith. a lie that needs to be real, and thus is the truth. the circle of painted dye, of insect hulls and glass wings crushed by human factories, begins to thrum with an unsung energy.

grow and wither away.
grow and wither away.
grow and wither away.
grow and wither away.
grow and wither away.

repeat five times, and feed the soil as you rot.
a photograph of an early concert. the first cd to share all of their autographs together. a bottle of champagne the pres was saving - sorry, sorry! a misshapen star plush, hand-sewed by a boy who could barely look at her. these are her precious memories; these are the sacrifices she has arranged. not blood, but sweat and tears a hundred times more valuable.

the glass shatters; the champagne fills the outlines of dye and corpses. and the circle begins to sing, wind and light and summer sun and winter's chill all in one.

submit to the beckoning of my unblemished wish.
answer to my truth, and speak truly in kind.

i swear an oath, on the virtuous truth of my love:
in this holy quest, i shall take the hero's happiness for my own.
in this holy quest, i shall vanquish the villain's despair.
the force of the ritual is overwhelming - a blast of magical energy less gust and more gale. clothes, blankets, bedsheets - anything not fastened down in ai's room buckles beneath the winds, tearing away without an anchor. the wind grows colder, colder, colder still, knives of ice that almost tear at ai's cheek-

and then a warmth like summer. a caress to the cheek, like the fingers of a lover. words unbidden and unsaid, but the words of a story nonetheless: keep it up. the hardest part's almost over. after this, there'll be nothing to worry about. i promise.

from the seventh heaven, attended to by three great words of power-
the winds gather, slow for a single terrifying moment-

spring forth from the autumn throne, o child of dreams!
-and then blast forth. drywall crumbles; wood snaps. and yet, that sensation of warmth and kindness never eases once as the world around ai momentarily erupts.

and momentary it is. the winds calm, then die away; the circle's light fades into nothingness. for an agonizing few seconds, ai is left alone, with only the dust and fog of a broken apartment left for company.

and then, with the delicate flicker of a butterfly's wings-
blue and red and gold and black, tracing gossamer trails through the air-

a man with warm eyes and a gentle smile stands before her. ]

...so this is the human world. [ his voice is soft but energetic, nasal but pleasant; a high baritone, or a low tenor. who can say? he looks at ai with those gentle blue eyes, smiling wide. ] Oh, right. There's an order to this sort of thing, isn't there? So instead of introducing myself, let me just ask:

[ he reaches forward, holding his hand out palm-up for her. and then he winks. ]

Are you my Master?

[shadowedking]

( he's not sure why he settled on japan of all places when he had finally gotten custody of felicity. maybe because it was just far enough from house morais that he could finally feel clean. maybe because even if they stood out, that would just give them space.

maybe it's because it's the first language he learned other than portuguese and english. there's a thought.

with the money he absolutely stole from the family accounts, he can afford a high-end apartment. the space is good for raising a kid, and he hopes it encourages felicity to come out of her shell again. they don't have a lot of neighbors, it looks like, and he appreciates the privacy. in fact, it actually takes a week for him to meet the family across the hallway- he practically runs right into a woman with a set of twins when he's bringing in a load of groceries, specifically. (behind him is a pink-haired girl with sky-blue eyes carrying a paper bag of things from a bakery she asked to try- it was the first thing she did ask for, so how could he say no?) )

Ah- sorry, sorry. I didn't see you there-

[fionnuisce]

[It was not known what the prerequisites were for admittance into the course Modern Magecraft Theory, but rumors traveled the Clock Tower like insects traveled a corpse. Some said the young Lord accepted only those with the most power and least control (a theory to which the presence of Flat Escardos lent some credence) or the more sinister rumor: that he personally chose only those who could be bent to whatever nefarious plans the so-called Scourge of Mage Society had for the Association at large.]

[The truth was a combination of the two, albeit a little gentler in intent.]

Forgive me for keeping you waiting. Can I get you a cup of tea?

[A man only a handful of years Ai's elder stepped into the (extravagantly built yet modestly furnished) office with the click of a metal-tipped cane on hardwood floor, closing the door behind him. Dressed in black and dark green with a pair of sunglasses perched on his head, Lord El-Melloi II resembled an average person far more than he did an archaic mage--and seemed even more out of place for the fact. A flicker of liquid silver caught the light briefly behind him as it slipped around a corner, thee sound of cabinets quietly opening and closing following it.]

Hoshino Ai, do I have that correct? You can just call me Professor if you don't mind--the formality of a full title is a little annoying.

[The truth behind the rumors was that the Clock Tower was a vile den of serpents. Talent went overlooked, people falling behind and through the cracks by design of a wretched society rather than mere oversight. And the Hoshino family was not an unknown to him for exactly that reason; newer in the matter of bloodline, and that much more perilous for it. Add on the fact that the woman before him (christ she's barely even older than Escardos) was already not the latest generation, and tgat compounded his interest and concern both.]

pretend this is a dialogue meme, maybe ill start writing prose if i get comfy IM JUST NERVOUS

[midsummerlies]

"You're one handful of a woman, you know that?"