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Post by Erik Destler on Jun 18, 2008 18:18:09 GMT -5
The composer's consciousness shook with frustration, trying to hold together. He wrapped himself around the ring and froze it to show his displeasure.
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Post by Carlos Castro on Jun 18, 2008 18:27:32 GMT -5
Carlos' hand jerked in shock, and he gasped again. Could that possibly be just his imagination?
"Maestro?" he called again. "Erik? Is that..." He swallowed. "Are you there?"
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Post by Erik Destler on Jun 18, 2008 18:35:47 GMT -5
The ring heated immediately.
Yes!
It wasn't exactly a voice, more like the thought of a voice, with particular memory attached to it.
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Post by Carlos Castro on Jun 19, 2008 10:18:46 GMT -5
He couldn't be imagining this, Carlos thought. And truly, considering everything else he'd seen, should he be surprised? Destler hadn't exactly died a natural death. The voice in his head was distant, like a dream remembered, but it didn't seem to come from memory. Like the voice you hear calling your name sometimes upon waking or falling asleep. He touched the ring with the fingers of his other hand.
"But... where are you? Why can't I see you?"
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Post by Erik Destler on Jun 19, 2008 10:23:25 GMT -5
His thought-self curled around Carlos and through him, the direct contact with the man's voice keeping him nearly whole.
Part of you! ...weak...
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Post by Carlos Castro on Jun 19, 2008 10:42:09 GMT -5
It reminded him of the nights Erik had played him to sleep, the notes of the violin almost like a palpable thing curling around him and sending him into slumber. His heart beat faster, though, rather than slowed to sleep.
"Part of me? But... Maestro, what do I do?"
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Post by Erik Destler on Jun 19, 2008 10:44:46 GMT -5
My music
The sensation of Destler's presence was already weak, and dissipating every moment like smoke.
Write
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Post by Carlos Castro on Jun 19, 2008 20:37:16 GMT -5
"Don't go!" Carlos cried, but it was futile. What did he mean?
He could have slapped himself. It was so stupid! Destroying the music--the actual sheets--had killed him. Or... whatever it had done. It didn't seem credible, but it had happened before his eyes. And there, now, he'd been singing... Carlos could act stupid, but he wasn't an imbecile.
He had to write it down. But there was no piano at the hotel, and he'd need it to get the notes just right.
"I will," he said, in case Erik could hear him. He threw on a coat and went out for the first time since the incident, filled with hope and a renewed sense of life.
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Post by Erik Destler on Jun 19, 2008 20:43:52 GMT -5
The remains of his sense of self clung to Carlos like cobwebs wherever he went, broken and scattered across the tenor's own consciousness, trailing behind him uselessly but still he was there.
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Post by Erik Destler on Jun 23, 2008 10:54:00 GMT -5
****LATER*****
Destler was with him in every moment, every movement echoed, every breath shared, constantly curled around his beautiful rotund tenor and always moving even when Carlos sat still in the cab.
"He could not destroy your love! Sherlock Holmes..." the voice that hummed in the young man's ear grew a bit darker "will get what he deserves in due time. Why did you call on him, Christopher?"
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Post by Carlos Castro on Jun 23, 2008 12:52:49 GMT -5
Carlos' blood seemed to "thrum" with every subtle movement of his maestro, the sensation constantly fascinating. But, safe in his room again, he felt a slight chill at Destler's question.
"I... was afraid," he said simply. "I knew Mr. Holmes, long ago. When I saw him at the Opera, and you... I didn't know, Erik. I'm so sorry. I only knew there was a dead man in my wardrobe. I had no idea..."
I would fall in love with you.
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Post by Erik Destler on Jun 23, 2008 12:59:37 GMT -5
"Then you went to him at the beginning. That's alright, then, I can excuse it."
His presence passed through Carlos again as it had in the cafe, lingering a bit longer this time, exploring the strange confines of his student's body and mind.
"Careful, my love." he chuckled. "Your thoughts are mine as well. And you truly love me? Is that so?" he seemed a bit excited, to be sure.
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Post by Carlos Castro on Jun 23, 2008 13:22:38 GMT -5
Carlos flushed again, though whether at the sensation or at being caught out was uncertain.
"If my thoughts are yours, you know how bitterly I regret going to him," he said, his heart beating faster. "Yes, yes, I love you! I couldn't admit it. I regret that, too." His lips pursed in not-so-secret amusement as Destler sent another impossible thrill through him. "I take it from your... from what I... what are you doing?"
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Post by Erik Destler on Jun 23, 2008 13:27:49 GMT -5
"Not sure. Exploring, trying to find some way to make this work for us."
While thrilling, his ghostly caresses and pressings were still not...solid, not quite real. His voice hissed in frustration.
"I shouldn't have wasted those weeks in my "work", I should have brought you to me instead, but...well, you saw my face."
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Post by Carlos Castro on Jun 23, 2008 14:00:39 GMT -5
Carlos tried to think cautiously. It had been horrible. Would he have been able to overlook it before all this happened? Before what they went through together?
"Yes. Your bargain."
He sat in a plush armchair, the better to enjoy whatever Destler was doing.
"Was it worth it? The music, the immortality. We'd never have met, otherwise."
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