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Post by Julian on Sept 2, 2008 6:38:28 GMT -5
*There was no reason for Julian to hide anything, so he stated the situation plainly.*
"An accident of some kind befell him and he was incapable of sewing skin to his face, which was apparently his previous 'solution' to his appearance. I was asked to make him a mask, which I did. He would like a different one, one with more features. And caps for his fingertips that he might play again."
*He considered this.*
"I assume that he wishes to continue composing, but other than being desirous of the company of a young tenor named Carlos Castro, I know nothing of his plans here." *His eyes refocused on Erik.*
"Though he is hoping to meet you. He...wishes to take tea or share a meal."
*Julian almost seemed befuddled by the concept, but there was not distaste in his voice.*
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Post by Erik on Sept 2, 2008 10:33:56 GMT -5
The man's solution was novel, Erik had to admit, but not having seen him he had to assume his deformity had been different from Erik's. But his eyes narrowed at the mention of Castro.
"That cow?" Erik said dismissively. Such creatures were a dime a dozen on the opera stage, and Erik could not fathom what any discerning ear could hear in him. "Well, it is of no matter. He will be desiring for some time, I think. It is not Erik's experience that prima donnas are much prone to tolerating the company of those with accidents, of birth or otherwise, in their past."
He fell silent, considering tea.
"I don't suppose he is planning on vacating my Opera, by any chance? Perhaps Erik ought to see him. Yes, we are all so very civilized, down here."
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Post by Julian on Sept 2, 2008 12:47:14 GMT -5
*If there was any sarcasm in the statement, Julian didn't seem to pick up on it.*
"I honestly do not know. Our interaction was brief and it did not come up. Would you like me to arrange something between you?" *He offered helpfully.*
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Post by Erik on Sept 2, 2008 12:57:36 GMT -5
"No, no, Erik will see him," he said. "It is about time Erik saw to the running of his Opera again. He has fallen behind."
He had not seen Christian, nor heard tell of his return. Christine had been out of the picture for some time, as well. His heart ached for both of them, accompanied by various regrets and half-formed plans. But if Castro still reigned supreme, well... All was not well.
"What does he see in him?" he mused.
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Post by Julian on Sept 3, 2008 7:47:01 GMT -5
*Julian did what he could not to think about Christian as he did his best to answer smoothly.*
"A pretty face? Perhaps his ear is not as refined as yours." *He smiled gently.*
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Post by Erik on Sept 3, 2008 9:21:36 GMT -5
"The man looks like an enormous baby," Erik said matter-of-factly. "But you are most likely correct. This Destler is clearly mad. Now. It's clear the Opera has fallen on hard times and disrepair in my absence, if this sort of thing is going on between its walls. Erik will have a job ahead of him."
He raised a scarred, hairless eyebrow at his son.
"How would you like to help Erik take it over?"
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Post by Julian on Sept 3, 2008 13:42:54 GMT -5
*A glow washed over Julian and he swelled with pride.*
"I...I would be honored, Mother."
*His mind was swimming.*
"What would you have me do?"
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Post by Erik on Sept 3, 2008 13:50:05 GMT -5
Erik's mind turned, cold and calculating. He moved over to the piano, unconsciously complying with Mortimer's suggestion, and sat.
"Sing for me, Julian," he said, drawing the mantle of the Angel of Music around him as his fingers pressed down on the keys. "I must test your range."
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Post by Julian on Sept 3, 2008 14:08:53 GMT -5
*Julian paused, confused for only a moment before parting his lips. His voice was haunting, but beautiful, his rich baritone following the wordless tones his mother played. At first it was foreign and new, but all too soon he was swept up in it, the blind bliss that he had inherited when it came to the muse. The notes started to deviate into complementing tones.*
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Post by Erik on Sept 3, 2008 14:21:37 GMT -5
Erik listened in wonder. Untrained, yet with all the training his own long years had provided, Julian's voice was unadulterated music. It seemed almost a sin to ask him to bend it to the songs of men.
But that was just what Erik was going to do. Julian was him. And Erik had never had a chance upon the stage.
Julian would be it.
For now, however, and without conscious choice, he lifted his own voice. His range, developed to its fullest extent, allowed him to weave amongst Julian's notes, creating a contrapuntal melody that fit with Julian's like two bodies joined in love.
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Post by Julian on Sept 3, 2008 16:55:11 GMT -5
((Guh...you win. There's no way I'll ever live up to that.))
*Julian felt complete. Grounded and whole as their voices united in sweet harmony. Only then did he truly realize how much he had missed Erik. Never faltering a moment, he slid his hands over Erik's shoulders, caressing his chest lovingly as they sang. It was intimacy in a way he'd never known and it was sublime.*
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Post by Erik on Sept 3, 2008 17:06:24 GMT -5
Erik's voice did not falter, but he wondered at the sensation; they had not touched (like this) since his return, and no one had ever touched him like this. While singing. He used to imagine that Christine or Christian was making love to him in the only way they knew how, with their voices, but he had thought it a substitute, a mask that hid their true desire. Julian wore no mask. He simply was.
And he was a magnificent creature. Everything, Erik thought, he himself should have been. He leaned, ever so slightly, into Julian's embrace.
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Post by Julian on Sept 3, 2008 17:27:25 GMT -5
((*iz ded* I really shouldn't find that so hot, should I?))
*Julian's voice rattled briefly in vibrato, almost a purr as his nimble fingers worked at loosening Erik's garments, freeing tie and buttons, driven to find skin by voice and will. Not that he minded. This was perfection, what they were meant to be together. What they would create. He could almost see it as the melody echoed through his very core...all that Erik would want for them to be.*
"You love the music? I am the music."
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Post by Erik on Sept 3, 2008 17:39:20 GMT -5
What they wove was almost a tangible thing, a separate being though innately themselves as well--almost as Julian felt to Erik, at times. His hands left the keys, for they were more than enough themselves to fill the air, and slid over Julian's, pressing the boy's cool, soothing fingers against his scorched flesh.
Together, they were perfect. And could do anything Erik put his mind to.
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Post by Erik Destler on Sept 3, 2008 21:29:24 GMT -5
((As Izame))
The little sharkman perked and tilted his head with a questioning trill, then slunk out of the room to leave them alone, finding a peaceful and dark, damp place to curl up in and keen over his decades-dead love.
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