#mischa interaction

Location: Her quarters

Once upon a time, Mischa had been a young musician, traveling from court to court, all around Europe. While they had been in Hungary, a long time ago it seemed now, at least a decade prior, they had seen a young blonde girl hanging around as they practiced before a performance. They had been tuning their instruments and warming up their voice when they'd heard the harmonies start. Curious Mischa had continued, their voice melding easily with that of their companion. Only afterwards had they learned that the blonde was the princess, Barbara Lorraine. What had followed was many talks about music and, eventually, letters exchanged, and a friendship.

Mischa had heard of his friend's injuries in the attacks outside the palace and had gathered up their best cures as well as some of their music and a spinet, a small piano. They popped their head in with a broad smile. "How braves the conuering hero?" they asked, before showing Barbara the flowers they'd brought.

Location: Austria's sitting room in the palace

Mischa had performed music for the King of Austria many times after moving to Austria to be Austria's court musician. While Mischa rarely spoke with him, the king held a sort of aloof but conscientious air that Mischa respected. Mischa wondered, at times, when the king's eyes were on them, if the king knew about the information Mischa gathered for the queen. They never mentioned it, of course, but perhaps the queen had. In either case, unless Mischa was asked directly, they would admit to nothing. Still, when Mischa crossed the threshold into the sitting room, they bowed deeply. "King Erich, it is a pleasure to be called before you. I was expecting the queen to have another composition for me to work on, but I am pleased to speak more with you. I have wished to express my gratitude for allowing me to join your country, and bring honor to my new home."

"The queen has been captured." The phrase had not seemed real when a guard had explained to Mischa what was happening, why the whole of Versailles, once boring with all those absent, had exploded again with sound and bluster. They had been reminded of chess, the way losing the Queen could decimate. It had only been afterward that they'd been able to wrap their mind around it. Isaak had undoubtedly been quicker and Mischa wondered if that was why he had stayed as an advisor rather than traveling with them; Isaak could handle these situations and shine in them, Mischa had no taste for it. After all settled however, Mischa made their way to the queen in her office, knocking on the door. "I brought tea your majesty...and a bottle of something stronger. I thought, after your ordeal that you might be able to use something with a little bit of boldness, like you."

Setting: Music room

Dum. Dum. Du-du-dum. Fingers dance across the keys of a large pianoforte, making it sing loudly into the empty room. It is a familiar song, one that they had written as an ode of love in a year gone by, but it is transposed to a minor key. What had once been an exultation of the heart's desire, spoke now of heart-break, the jaded pain of being abandoned by a joy that burned too hot and too fierce. Once upon a time, the melody had words; they could speak their joy so well, crying out like a lark. But the absence of this love...it had no words, just the cries of each note as they echoed in the hall. Mischa had not expected to be interrupted; everyone had left to search or gathered in gossiping groups. Why would anyone search for music in the midst of such chaos? But there it was, a presence behind them, one so familiar that it felt like a ghost had blown into the room.

     - what your muse’s name is in mine’s phone

My Muse    

 - what your muse’s picture is in mine’s phone

  (from a very silly photoshoot that Mischa made him participate in. He loved it)

   - what your muse’s ringtone is in mine’s phone

Rebel Rebel by David Bowie

     - my muse’s last text to your muse