The effort it had taken to pin her own hair back and keep it from simply coiling out from around the dull brown hood of her drab robe was constantly being consistently tested, a few strands of the blue/yellow billows hanging long across her shadowed face and most of her obscured body. Sona was thankful for how little had managed to wriggle free of their bindings, for she knew exactly how distinct her hair was and she did not want to be recognized on the streets of Noxus.
If she had wished to be seen, she would still be wearing the flashy sky-colored dress she loved so much, her Etwahl would be before her and playing instead of trapped within the confines of the large wooden case in her hand. The slender strings of her beloved instrument whined at her even now, yearning for the open air. Still, for all it complained, the musician's legs drowned out the pleas for attention, groaning from the exertion of carrying a massive cased instrument from the nearest available point she was capable of changing at outside of Noxus to her destination.
She was so unused to walking, preferring the ease of floating to it any day but that again would require her instrument be playable. A sigh of frustration came from her, though unlike those most people made, it was nothing more than the sound of air passing lips, a sharp exhalation specifically tailored to sound at least somewhat similar to a sigh. Perhaps she should just turn around and leave.
She was better than this and she knew it. Hesitation in the face of a performance was not something she'd never experienced, considering the amount of times she'd performed, but this was something different. This was an impromptu performance not meant to generate revenue or even for the sake of art. No, this performance was different. Greater personal stakes existed this time. It was not about playing properly, something she knew she could do, everyone knew she could. This concert was to be played to calm the unrest that seemed to tinge the very air of Noxus' streets.
Though her heritage was primarily Ionian, and through adoption Demacian, she was worldly enough to know that strife and pain were not beneficial to the world at large. The fact that it was Noxus only changed the how of her plan, not the why. Words she would likely remember unto her deathbed rang out in her mind again, just as they had during her time in the reflection chamber. Perhaps they were just a fevered illusion the summoners had implanted, but the meaning was true nonetheless.
Her destination drew closer with every aching step but her soft azure eyes looked furtively at every passerby she could, taking stock of them and wishing them well the only way she was capable, with a thought. They were no longer a part of the Institute, but that did not make them any less her fellow man. No one deserved violence visited upon them without justification, just as no one deserved to be ignored. If they required a voice, music, her music, might be that voice.
The stage she sought revealed itself to her like none other. She had picked the largest possible square she could find on the map for this show, finally arriving at the apex of mid-day traffic through the area. The complaints of her slender legs were forgotten as her purposeful stride brought her directly to the center of the area. Swiftly, her case was discarded to the side and her weapon of music was revealed to all. A grin was immediate upon hearing the incandescent strings cry quietly with delight in the soft breeze.
One thin finger touched down on a sapphire string and Sona's body immediately lifted form the stone street. The other hand tipped back the brown, sack robe's hood to reveal her identity to the masses. The twin ponytails that so usually adorned her body had been replaced with a single, absurdly long braid, the blue and yellow threatening to mesh into a green as they coiled and twisted around one another.
A quick flick of the wrist brought the length of hair out from under the boring robes, but Sona's attention was swiftly diverted, tapping the back of a finger against the uppermost string of her instrument, lost in the majesty of noise that reached out to echo off of the surrounding buildings, not unlike the gentle call of a bell, eager for the crowd's attention.
It was equal parts opening act and foreword, her skills quickly put to work introducing her presence with an energetic rhythm, fingertips and nails of one hand tapping softly upon the lowest strings. She built upon the makeshift rhythm section, a lone note, high and haunting turning into a blend of sounds expertly chosen, sounds that seemed to speak directly to the heart of the listener. It was soothing, even to the creator.
Sona's eyes closed to the world around her, to her rapt audience as she created for them, here in this very moment, a song to bring one together with any other who would listen. It spoke of peace, prosperity, kindness, and yet, the solidarity of life in Noxus. She was no fool, here to sell something entirely unnecessary to a people who believed in battle prowess above many other things.
Last Edit: Feb 12, 2013 13:44:12 GMT -5 by mutelady
Post by electricloras on Feb 11, 2013 22:48:24 GMT -5
Why the young inventor chose Noxus of all locations to test his newest creation was anyone's guess, but there Loras was, soaring through the rooftops of the city on the Ambition. Red electricity flowed down from his legs into the board, powering it through the skies. With the recent improvements to the vehicle with the help of Heimerdinger and Rinidinger, he could very well stay up there for hours. And Loras likely would, until he heard something.
Music. He brought Ambition to a halt, looking around for the source of it. If this were normal music, he'd likely just listen to it and go about his way. But no, this was different. It felt... compelling in a way. And he wanted to know why. With a kick off against the air, Loras headed towards the genera direction of the music, gradually lowering his flight to skim above the rooftops.
Post by Vergil Dreadstorm on Feb 12, 2013 0:13:11 GMT -5
Vergil walked through the streets of Noxus the lone mercenary wanted so time alone from his team before going on a job. The job this time was to eradicate a band of bandits who had for the second time caused problems to his employer. With the increase of bandit attacks and jobs Vergil needed time to think alone to formulate plans and to gather his thoughts.
Something was different today, instead of the standard crying of the poor and weak there was music. A very odd music that drew the mercenary's attention as he guided himself by the sound to where Sona was playing.
As her music swelled, so too did the sense of wonder and fulfillment in the slowly building crowd. Men and women, young and old alike began to flock to the square in which Sona performed. But it was lost to her, just as she was lost to the world of the concrete and realistic. Notes escaped her fingers, the only sensation that kept her tethered to the world, her mind far and gone, wandering through a majesty of sounds and emotions that she was creating for these people.
Time beyond that of her music lost purpose and meaning to her, the air taking on a tangible energy as the song permeated it, weaving into the breath each member of the burgeoning crowd drew. They stood by one another, listening to her work, some dancing with it, some merely listening to it, but everyone enjoying it. It seemed to feed back into the magic of the Maven's music, amplifying the effect and driving her forward through the song despite her lack of attention.
Finally, the song drew to a close, ending on a quiet note. As the crowd picked up a cheer, her eyes fluttered open once more, bending into a delicate curtsy to her audience, head inclined respectfully and fingers very slightly lifting the dull brown rode from the ground. It felt like a success, but she was hardly done. Her hands ached in a good way, the hardest and most passionately she'd played in ages.
There was time for rest though, the interim between songs giving her fingertips time to stop complaining. The crowd hit a fever pitch, shuffling forward for questions and autographs, just to be near to her. Sona simply raised a hand to shoo them back, knowing that she could do nothing else to stop them if they truly wished. Most, however, turned away, yet remained in the square, as if hoping for the next piece they had no way of knowing would come.
Scattered throughout the crowd were individuals with very keen interests in the Maven. Particularly because of her past...an event that she may never want to talk about. They blended with the crowd, even in their regular attire, though a few were in disguise. For the plan to work...they would have to persuade the Maven they were simple fans. That wouldn't be too difficult, or Rudmed thought.
For now the Final Truth listened to the Maven's forte. Music, and what a beautiful melody it is. It would be a shame that it may be her last should his investigation turn up...rather poor evidence.
A young squire of the Final Truth spoke up, "Such skill and beauty...are we sure she could commit a sin? She seems at peace from here."
"Anyone even those that seem of pure heart can commit sin squire. You best remember that, lest they end up killing you." Rudmed whispered before patting the boy on his shoulder. After all...if sinners got away with everything...then the world would fall into chaos, and disorder. Thus the reason why the Final Truth were formed to punish the sinners who were not punished. To ensure that they did not escape their retribution.
Post by Vergil Dreadstorm on Feb 13, 2013 0:36:45 GMT -5
Vergil stood in the crowd preferring he not sit and listen nor dance like some of the others. His eyes watched the crowd and it seemed a few of the people listening were... out of place. He was spinning all sorts of idea's in his head as well and easily lost focus on those who seemed off. He decided on a question he would ask Sona but for now he will just listen.
Post by Rose Sonder on Feb 14, 2013 4:36:33 GMT -5
Rose was one of the citizens drawn in by the music. As calm and relaxed as the crowd there was, she was easily able to find her way to the front, and she was astonished as she caught sight of the source.
What's the Maven of the Strings doing here in Noxus...?
It didn't take long for the notes to sweep her away, however, and she closed her eyes, feeling unusually at ease in the crowd. It felt natural, in a way that music hadn't before, and all the worries she'd been having about the rebellion, the Butchering, her fathers- ceased.
This is really... lovely.
The melody filled her lungs with air and sound, and the rhythm overcame her heartbeat, replacing it with something sweeter as Sona performed. Rose found herself smiling- not the wicked grin that laced her lips after a successful purse-snatching, and not the falsified curve of her mouth that she'd give to a questioning guard, but a real, happy, almost childlike smile at the wonder of the sounds that filled the air.
When the music ended, she was almost saddened. The crush of the crowd around her swirled toward the mute woman, and their cheers, as glad as they were, seemed to knock the song from the air, taking with it the momentary peace.
But what are you doing here? Surely there's some reason other than this- impromptu concert.
As the musician reached out to touch, she winced in pain and drew her hand back. What normally would've been an 'ow' was of course nothing but a swift inhalation. Had she really been playing that fervently? It had been ages since last her fingers ached like this. She gave her thin, dexterous digits a quick looking over, seeing the vibrant red lines crisscrossing the tips. One of them had broken open slightly and was raised to her lips to do away with the small dab of blood.
Supposing that a bit of a rest was an order, Sona floated back down to the earth and sat upon her Etwahl's case, drawing a pen from the pocket of her dull clothing. The crowd reacted quickly to the simple gesture, pushing papers and items and body parts at the Maven in an attempt to have them signed by her. And so she did, internally lamenting their ludicrous affections. Her music was what mattered, the message behind it, she was merely the one giving it.
If there was anyone who wished to approach her, now would most certainly be the time to do it, so long as they could deal with the dreadfully bored look on her face. While she appreciated her fans, this wasn't meant to be an act of publicity like this. Still, they seemed better off now than they were before, so at least there was that
Last Edit: Feb 14, 2013 12:30:16 GMT -5 by mutelady
Post by Vergil Dreadstorm on Feb 14, 2013 12:52:32 GMT -5
Vergil approached the Maven from his spot in the crowd his height towered over her in comparison. "Greetings Maven, sorry for being very straight forward but I figured I would offer you a place to stay if you will be staying long." Vergil seemed to subconsciously salute in the standard Noxian fashion.
Post by Rose Sonder on Feb 14, 2013 17:26:44 GMT -5
Rose raises an eyebrow at the man approaching Sona, and, suspecting a trick, steps to a place in the crowd a little nearer to them. He was much taller than the woman, especially as she sat, seeming tired, on the case of her instrument. He looked military- and, given that, she trusted his offer to the Maven even less.
Trying to catch Sona's eye, Rose nods subtly in the direction of the man.
Is this guy bothering you?
The question was fairly clear in her posture- Rose was Noxian, and Sona was a Demacian national, but the student was more interested in keeping the artist safe from unwanted attention than she was in political differences. Perhaps it was an effect of the music, perhaps not- but it held true in any case.
Sona's hand immediately rose as the two individuals approached her, unable to split her focus between the two of them. The instantaneous nature of the man's request confused her, especially with the woman who seemed to approach to stop him shortly thereafter. She reached into her robe and retrieved a notepad from her inner pocket. A series of quick scribbles and two torn pages, both written in an extremely precise hand. It was obvious this was how she communicated when she was forced to.
The first was addressed to the man, whomever it he was, reading simply:
I appreciate your offer, but I'm not certain why I would need it. May I ask your name and why you feel it necessary to extend to me this kind offer?
The second note was even more simplistic, for the woman:
Is there something I can help you with, ma'am?
She cracked her knuckles quickly and looked between the two, awaiting some kind of response, wary for any sudden moves. They looked like citizens, and she was safe, but she disdained unnecessary violence to perhaps an unhealthy degree.
Last Edit: Feb 14, 2013 21:39:44 GMT -5 by mutelady
Post by Vergil Dreadstorm on Feb 14, 2013 23:04:20 GMT -5
"I offer out of generocity and because the Noxian streets are not safe in the late hours, and I was sort of hoping you would raise the spirits of my men, we have a slight bandit problem and it we are the hired blades who have to clean it up." Vergil bowed his head.
The members of the Final Truth remained filtered throughout the crowd. They were observing the Maven as they sought to get closer...at least one in particular. Rudmed disguised as, and individual that was above the middle class of Noxians, but not so much that he would be a well known noble.
He watched the Maven be approached by many civilians, but hung back considering his options. It would be difficult to pull Sona away someplace...more private in order to question her. Perhaps her crowd of fans would pull away soon, and he would be able to kindly escort her elsewhere.
Two members stood out to him a woman, and then a man who seemed to focus more on the crowd than the music. Not that they mattered, surely after the crowd left they too would leave.
The second note was even more simplistic, for the woman:
Is there something I can help you with, ma'am?
She cracked her knuckles quickly and looked between the two, awaiting some kind of response, wary for any sudden moves. They looked like citizens, and she was safe, but she disdained unnecessary violence to perhaps an unhealthy degree.
Rose steps forward to take the note lightly from the Maven's hand, but before she can speak, the man interrupts. She seems a little annoyed at this, but says nothing, waiting for him to finish. Her gaze drops to the ground as she waits for him to finish- maybe it wasn't a good idea to speak.
"I offer out of generocity and because the Noxian streets are not safe in the late hours, and I was sort of hoping you would raise the spirits of my men, we have a slight bandit problem and it we are the hired blades who have to clean it up." Vergil bowed his head.
When he's done, the student nods at him. Her distrust of the man is clear, especially since he's offered a room, but not his name.
"Rose Sonder, at your service, ma'am. I want to make sure this man's not bothering you; it seems... unusual that someone would offer a room so quickly."
She keeps her voice fairly polite, and offers the Maven a small, half-nervous smile.
He looks like he has a lot of money- maybe it wasn't a good idea to say anything?
Sona merely stared at the man for a few moments, still waiting for the answer to her question. Normally she was used to some form of introduction and to not receive one was strange, to say the least. It was then that the woman spoke up again, quickly scribbling out another note and handing it to her.
Unusual indeed. I can take care of myself, however. I am not as helpless as I may seem.
As if to underscore the meaning of her written words, she plucks a single string of her Etwahl, emanating a noise that muddies the senses and makes the ears want to yelp in pain, though it only lasted for a second. Her polite smile turns back to the man, content to wait or refuse his offer if he would not answer her.
Last Edit: Feb 15, 2013 16:54:43 GMT -5 by mutelady
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