the beginning of silly and light-hearted mozalieri (mlor) under the cut. (i dont expect it to be ready for posting for another few months)
With each passing minute, it became increasingly more difficult to understand Mozart's words. His speech was constant interrupted by laughter, immediately echoed by the crowd, so that the seemingly simple thing took him a quarter of an hour to explain, but finally, the entire room knew that the eccentric composer had decided to try his hand at magic. His story of how he had enchanted a flower and hidden it somewhere in the house before the party began elicited both joyful exclamations from the ladies and embarrassed sighs from the gentlemen, who were afraid to express their support for such an undertaking: after all, even in this company, everyone was an upstanding christian. Though, here and there, a discreet whisper could be heard: "It's Mozart, he's a genius. Surely he can do even this, you'll see."
"Don't keep me waiting, maestro!" cried one of the bolder girls, standing close to Mozart. "Tell me, what can your magic rose do?"
The question, predictably, sparked a murmur in the crowd, over which Mozart's bright laughter rang out again, foreshadowing some unimaginable possibilities of his "magic." Only when the murmur gradually died down did Mozart, leaning slightly toward the bold girl, answer her loudly, so loudly that it could be heard even from across the room, "Whoever finds this rose will fall in love with me, and no force can destroy that love!"
Having said this, Mozart burst into another infectious laugh, and soon the entire crowd was laughing, shouting, and passing this wonderful thing to anyone who had missed it. Someone more desperate immediately fled the room and probably went in search of the flower; someone whistled and approvingly slapped the joker on the back; someone wondered aloud why Mozart needed such magic at all, when all of Vienna had already succumbed to his influence without any spells.
Salieri, pressing his mask tighter to his face, pressing himself even harder against the wall, remained silent. His entire body froze, so much so that even breathing became difficult. Only one hand could still move: the hand that lay in his pocket, gently playing with the rose petals. He was on the verge of fainting.
germansingergirl
areudirty
theartofmadeline
jacobvanloon
turnnoffyourmind
