stage fright !

i love raine, && it’s somewhat difficult to fully separate them from toh canon, but i’m well on the way. i’ve been working on writing an all-bard d&d campaign, which is going to take inspiration from toh while utilizing a lot of my original bard lore, && that’s going to be my jumping off point. honestly, the biggest problem is going to be that i don’t want to change their name hahaha. but we’ll see what happens.

the biggest one is that they finally have a new name! rhapsody "rha" storme, professionally "r. storme".

they're going to default to an urban fantasy setting, based in nyc, because the juilliard affiliation was extremely important for me to keep. the bard library is a secret floor above the new york public library for the performing arts at lincoln center, essentially concealed from non-magic users.

"Oh, it's you."

Were Raine not already fully inside the building, Adrian probably would have slammed the door in their face. As it stands, however, all he can do is put on his nastiest grimace and sound as annoyed as possible in the hopes that they'll get the hint and beat it without kicking him even more when he's been down for longer than he was ever up.

"I have to say, I'm not impressed. That's a terrible look on you."

Adrian knows he looks even worse. Without his earring to supply him with a steady boost to his natural abilities, he can't facilitate a constant glamour about himself to appear more groomed---and after the disaster that was the Day of Unity, there's nobody alive who will sell him a concealment stone.

It's nothing that couldn't be fixed with some proper care, but Adrian struggles to find a reason to wake up in the morning, let alone take care of his appearance to that degree. So, stubble and imperfect hair it is.

when you had to spend every day concealing your true intentions, pretending to be docile, quiet raine whispers, it was easy to hide behind stage fright && lack of social graces. now, you don't have that luxury, with all eyes across the boiling isles on you.

what will you do now, raine whispers? who are you, at the end of all this?

there's a confidence in the way you carry yourself. of course, adrian is displeased. you consider yourself to be a kind, generous person, who doesn't take pleasure in kicking people while they're down... but you can't help feeling a little smug.

that said, you know how tired you must look / bags under your eyes from a distinct lack of sleep, coat draped haphazardly over your shoulders. you lean slightly on your staff as you pick your way over to the other former coven head. your face, so often wearing a permanent apologetic expression, betrays nothing, even as he insults you && awaits your so-called judgement.

you look at him impassively. he's just as unimpressive, && you've always thought so, never fooled by his reliance on illusions to present a version of himself to the world. strong magic doesn't need to hide behind illusions, && neither does a strong person.

but, personal feelings about adrian graye vernworth aside, there's an inherent kinship between artists that you'd be a fool to deny, even if he's distinctly bad at his job. something got him to the position he occupied before the day of unity, after all.

"that's not why i came." you have very little sympathy for him, but your words are not cruel. "i have a proposition." the base of your staff vanishes as you fold your hands behind your back, && luck runs up your arm to curl around your shoulders. having your palisman back in his fox form, as a constant companion, provides well-needed comfort navigating this difficult conversation. you don't want him to dismiss you on principle, out of a belief that you have some sort of savior complex. you don't pity him. you don't even particularly like him. but the boiling isles needs its artists united. bard magic has always, always relied on the strength of performers ; it's power && influence means nothing if it does not reach an audience that needs it.

one thing that adrian has that you don't: experience — if not skill — working with performers.

"Wow. You look exhausted." Eda snorts, despite understanding why. A lot of people have some newfound respect for Raine, now, and that kind of thing goes pretty far at a time like this. She knows all the attention isn't necessarily something they've always been comfortable with, but she honestly wouldn't trust anyone else over Raine either.

Of course, Eda's also been getting hounded by a fair amount of people, but she has that bad girl reputation to uphold.

( That, and it was hard enough to have a handful of kids looking to her for answers---she's still not really sure she can manage with more people even though there are already so many all over her. )

She's not even usually able to come up with a good excuse to slip away, but today feels like the first time in a long time everyone's hit a wall in their efforts to renovate enough for her to head out unnoticed. Eda had figured everyone would need a little break from it all; hardly anyone's been sitting around and twiddling their thumbs for more than a couple days.

the term 'music to my ears' feels cliche coming from a person like you / ( everything is music, you experience the world through song ) / yet there are no better words to describe what eda's suggestion makes you feel, the breath of relief that practically makes your chest feel like it's exploding.

you think, maybe for the first time in your lives, that eda really, truly understands you — && you, her. even more than when you were nothing but gifted kids trying to live normal lives. now, you're both adults, && standing on even ground.

you're proud of her.

you're proud of yourself, too.

when she came into your office, you weren't sure what to expect. you're both too busy to check in during the days, && often too exhausted to talk back at the owl house. but this is probably the best possible proposal you could have re recieved.

i love raine, && it's somewhat difficult to fully separate them from toh canon, but i'm well on the way. i've been working on writing an all-bard d&d campaign, which is going to take inspiration from toh while utilizing a lot of my original bard lore, && that's going to be my jumping off point. honestly, the biggest problem is going to be that i don't want to change their name hahaha. but we'll see what happens.

Tsukasa always performed like it would be his last. No matter how big or how small the stage, no matter who or what was in the audience before him – even if there was not a single seat taken – he would put heart and soul into each and every word and note, as if his life depended on it. It often felt that way, to be honest. The way his heart pounded with excitement, the way his body shook with adrenaline, a smile so invincible he almost felt divine . . . you would almost think he was experiencing something worthy of the gods, or titans, or whatever grandiose force of nature reigned supreme in this realm. Perhaps he was ; nothing was more sacred to Tsukasa than the stage itself.

However, this . . . this was on a whole other level. His mind and soul was vibrating at a frequency so fast it might’ve practically been still, the colors sharpening and emboldening all around. The dusklike scent of the wood, the sharp flicker of the candles, the almost harsh hum of air hitting against his skin . . . even the floating dust particles couldn’t look more brilliant just then. Practically like floating stars. The room took on an almost dreamlike, sleepy quality in tandem to Tsukasa’s ever - increasing excitement. He almost didn’t focus on the presiding Raine’s words. Perhaps it might’ve been better if he didnt ; hearing about how he would join in line with a legacy far before him, in a past so past he was dizzy thinking of it and a future so far he swear he could hear the stars themselves, he was practically already feeling what it meant to be timeless.

Thankfully, Tsukasa wasn’t so far gone as to forget he was in the middle of an audition. All these swirling desires and enchantments were only fodder for his upcoming performance. The only thing he could do, now that all the practices are over and all the preparations, was to give them that sensation in turn – that feeling you will live forever in starlight and song. If nothing else comes of this, then let him at least achieve that.

The brilliant smile on Tsukasa’s face spoke way louder than his powerful lungs could carry. “ of course, it is an honor to be performing for the bard coven once again – this time for the head witch and you, Master Raine! i could not be more grateful for the opportunity. however, no words will suffice, so allow me to express that gratitude through my performance today. “ Covering his heart with his right hand, he leaned forward in a little bow before standing upright and smiling once again.

“ for my this audition, i will be playing a three - movement piano piece dedicated to the story Laurel and Avalan. it’s a quite well - known piece. i’m sure you are most familiar with it. so, without too much pomp, let us begin! “

For Tsukasa, this was a rather simple choice. Although the piece was far from easy in terms of technical skill, it was comparatively less flashy than some of his other considerations. However, after much fuss and consternation about the sort of performance he ought to give for his last round of auditions, this was the one he got the most satisfaction from. The piece was well - beloved ; he even doubted he was the only one to have performed it for them this year. However, it was a piece he knew well, practically had memorized. He had played it for his sister, after all, time and time again when she was stuck in the house, confined to her bed. If there was anyone who could make the piece feel fresh & new, it was him.

his confidence && joy warms your heart / so far removed from your own experience in this room, it's inspiring in a way ; you see in him a strength unpossessed in yourself.

the three pillars of the bard coven: storytelling, musical performance, && spellcasting — the theory suggests that a competent bard excels in two of them, while a successful bard balances all three with the intent of always improving. crane, of course, is a master of them all, && you know that your musical accomplishments are no small feat ; yet it is history && storytelling which stirs your heart more than the resonance of any melody. it is through tsukasa's choice in tale here that you know, before he's played a single note, that he will flourish among your ranks.

you nod quickly, recalling yourself, && sit heavily, hands folded in your lap expectantly, && listen.

the story of laurel && avalan is, as tsukasa's said, a common one, && the piano sonata is one of the isles' more famous musical compositions. written in the early savage ages, it is a rare relic of it's time which has not been faded into obscurity ; like most of bardic culture, it was largely ignored in emperor belos' wild magic suppression. while some may discount it as being over-performed, you recognize it for what it is: an important piece of thematic && culturally relevant history.

you offer him an encouraging nod he undoubtedly does not need, && close your eyes && just listen, an instinctive action born from your own dislike of scrutiny.

however, by the end of the first movement, you've opened your eyes again anyway ; you can hear the animation in the music, &&, compelled by something much larger than yourself, cannot help but watch, rapt.

there's a smile on your lips by the end, && though it's improper form to applaud in an audition, you cannot help but tap your fingers silently against your palm, a minuscule acknowledgement his strong performance.

you exchange a look with crane ; he gestures back — you have the floor — && you stand once more.

♪  ♪  ♪    see  ,    my    birds    of    a    kind  ,    they    more    &&    more    are    looking    like    centurions    than    any    little    messiah        

Ordinarily, Luchino doesn't allow himself to be pulled aside by people like this, but he resolves to make an exception, following the performer to the position indicated.

He tries not to show his amazement at what he now knows for certain was a display of real magic, but there's a slight change in his expression as he watches some sort of barrier form around the two of them---it doesn't even occur to him in the moment that he might have been lured into a trap, he's so taken aback by it. It's one thing to see magic under the impression that it's visual effects---learning that magic is real and seeing it after the fact is entirely different.

But he composes himself quickly. That's what he does best, after all.

"... Right. Well, I still can't help feeling strangely flattered." Luchino doesn't know how common it is for ordinary magicians to get mistaken as users of magic in those circles, but he can't imagine it happens particularly often. "Naturally, I had no idea that sort of thing was happening. So... Ah, I hope you're not going to need to wipe my mind or something to keep me clueless towards the existence of magic now like in books. I really won't tell anyone."

Some amount of anxiety is starting to seep into his demeanor, but he pushes it down, determined to appear unfazed.

there's nothing quite like the earnest awe in the expression of someone witnessing new magic for the first time. it's not an uncommon sight for you / often, there's a devious sort of pleasure in seeing people react to the power of bard magic, increased tenfold when the observer has never seen real magic at all.

"you should be flattered," you tease with a wink. "&& no, you have nothing to worry about. i'm... actually not sure about protocol, but i'm quite certain it doesn't involve any sort of brainwashing."

not for humans, anyway.

"anyway... honestly? the boundaries between humans && witches have been... thinning, recently. magic is saturated in everything, whether you know it or not. && there have been cases — at least some believe — of non-spellcasters suddenly finding themselves able to perform minor feats of magic."