Post by Zola Rhomdaen on Feb 23, 2024 11:47:01 GMT
This time when Tebrin is summoned, the door to Zola’s room at the Mirror is slightly ajar and there seems to be loud noises coming from somewhere outside the building — constant yet random percussive beats. The devil chooses to knock still, bemusedly looking around as he waits to be invited in.
“Tebrin, come on in!” her voice calls out from within the room.
Zola is standing by the windows with a cup of tea in her hands, watching something going on outside. She looks over her shoulder and smiles at him as he slips inside and shuts the door firmly.
“You know an open door is an invitation for someone to kill you, Zola.”
“In Aeschira, sure. But who’s going to try that here?”
He grimaces. “Yes, it’s all very…pleasant here, isn’t it?”
She laughs, a sweet, melodic sound in contrast to the grating cacophony that is more like construction site noises than music. Tebrin doesn’t appear bothered by it, but he does go to peer out the windows in curiosity.
The windows look down on a street corner where two buskers, a pair of tiefling brothers standing a distance apart from each other, are beating as hard as they can on the various-sized drums placed around them. Watching the movements of their arms, it quickly becomes apparent why they sound so off: they’re playing different rhythms. There seems to be a few pedestrians yelling and jeering at these musicians — and who are being ruthlessly ignored. Tebrin grimaces again, though more from distaste than any discomfort.
Zola raises an eyebrow at him. “What, don’t tell me you hate musicians too? If so, I’ve got some very bad news about your future wife…”
He smirks. “I’m aware of your musical proclivity, Zola. No, music is one of the great arts. But this…noise leaves something to be desired. I suppose you should feel safe with an open door if this is what people will encounter beyond… They aren’t even in sync with each other. It’s like having several conversations at once. About taxes and auditing. Here.” He hands her a small pile of business cards. “I presume you’re running out. I do hope you’ve called on me for more than this show outside, however.”
“What if I just missed your company?” She takes a long sip from her cup of tea, a mischievous glint in her eye.
“Well, obviously you do. What’s not to miss?” he says as he returns the look. “But there is a lot I am doing while you…” He shudders and points at the display outside. “…enjoy this?”
“Enjoy this? Oh no, not at all! Even though I paid them to perform like this.”
On the street, one fed-up man snatches a large drum away from one of the buskers and hurls it across the pavement in a fit of rage.
Tebrin chuckles. “Well, if this was the aim, I’m starting to see the draw.”
“This tavern was founded by a famous bard, you see, so street performances are pretty common in this corner. The patrons are appreciative even when the players aren’t very good. But look, these two guys have been going at it for less than five minutes and already I’ve seen so many people try to make them stop.” Zola turns to face him. “It’s the conflicting rhythms. It’s making people stressed out. Have you ever tried playing music in Aeschira that doesn’t have the same beat as the Heart Bell? I tried but I couldn’t, because it kind of drives you mad!”
“Yes, the city lives to a single rhythm. Quite literally.”
“Exactly. And that’s why we can use it against them.”
He turns to her and cocks an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“I’ve been thinking about what you said about my father and the Bell. How being without it made him weaker? Well, we can’t take my mother out of the city, but what we can do is…bring a different rhythm to her.”
Tebrin narrows his eyes at Zola and points out the window again. “You mean to recreate this mess in your mother’s house? I hate to tell you this, Zola, but there is almost no chance you will be taking these…‘performers’ in.”
“No, silly, we could use something else. I thought about using a spell — major image, maybe — but then I remembered that House Rhomdaen specialises in arcana so I’m guessing they can dispel that pretty quickly. A noise-making device, though; maybe a few of them, hidden in nooks around the mansion?”
The muscles in Tebrin’s face tense as he seems to be running through lines of thought internally. “So… You mean to plant these devices around her house?” He thinks for another moment before a wicked smile begins to form on his lips. “…To disrupt the rhythm of the Bell? You know, that is…actually quite clever. You surprise me, Zola. That is a particularly devious plan. It won’t help you in any way, but it would at least level the playing field somewhat.”
His red eyes settle on Zola with a level of appreciation he hasn’t really shown so far. “Perhaps you are more Aeschiran than we thought. Though you should absolutely still learn to shut your door.”
A pink shade begins to colour Zola’s cheeks. She opens and closes her mouth for a brief moment, unsure of what to say to that. “Oh, well, um… Yeah… Er, I’m not gonna lie, it’s a risky plan. It needs to go on for a few minutes before it can really take effect, so we’ve got to hope that they don’t find and disable the devices quickly. And we’ll be disturbed by the conflicting rhythms too, just not as much as them. Because their bodies have been in sync with the Heart Bell’s rhythm their entire lives.”
“Exactly, but the Bell itself would perhaps have done that to you anyway. Do you have such a device ready?”
“No… I was gonna run this by you first. You know the mansion, right? Is this a feasible plan? Are there places to hide these devices in?”
“Hmm. No doubt there are places to hide them, depending on how large they are. We would need someone on the inside to place them for us, though. I have been to the mansion, but it is always on business, not social calls where I have time to roam the halls… I think this could work. I have a few…favours I can call in to get these in place if you can get the device ready. Any thoughts as to how to manage that? You are correct in that a magical effect will simply be dispelled immediately, so the means would need to be as mundane as possible, and not so large that it could not be smuggled in.”
“Yeah, I know just the guy who can make this gizmo for me.” She sighs and rolls her eye at the thought of having to speak with Killian Gourcuff again. “You’ve got someone on the inside of House Rhomdaen? Who?”
“No one important enough to worry about, they will not be staying around for long once the deed is done anyway. But they are innocuous enough to do this for us. Who are you thinking to make this device? We need to be sure they can be trusted.”
Zola casts a worried look at the word innocuous, but she decides it’d be better to not press further. “A human inventor in the Witching Court,” she replies. “He’s an eccentric. He can’t remember anyone he’s spoken to before, so yes, he can be ‘trusted’.”
Tebrin gives her a bemused look at the description. “Zola, this does not sound like someone who can create what you are after… Are you sure about this? Firstly, a human in the Feywild. Secondly, he doesn’t remember anyone? Is he brain damaged?”
“Yeah, probably! But he gets shit done. I mean, would you like to meet him yourself?”
Tebrin thinks it over a second. “No, sounds too messy for my tastes. Just be sure he can get it done. If not, it will only make your work that much harder. Be sure of who you trust, Zola.”
Shame, she thinks. That meeting would’ve been at least fun to watch. Nonetheless, she gives him a reassuring smile. “I know. Will you trust me?”
“I have already put trust in you with this plan to begin with, Zola. Only a fool would rescind that part way through with stakes such as these.”
Always so aloof. “Okay, I’ll take that as a yes.” The winning smile remains on her face, undeterred. “Have you got somewhere else to be?”
“Depends. How soon do you think these devices can be put together? I will have a few things to get ready on my side that will take some organisation.”
“I’m not sure. I guess I’ll just go and hire the arsehole now. Hopefully he gets it done quick.” She leans in to peck a kiss on Tebrin’s cheek. “See you later tonight?”
She couldn’t keep a note of hope from slipping into her voice there. She hopes he didn’t notice.
“Here? I presume the sideshow outside will be vacated by then?”
“Yes, yes, I’ll kick them out.” She giggles. “Don’t think anyone can get in the mood with that racket anyway.”
Co-written with Anthony
“Tebrin, come on in!” her voice calls out from within the room.
Zola is standing by the windows with a cup of tea in her hands, watching something going on outside. She looks over her shoulder and smiles at him as he slips inside and shuts the door firmly.
“You know an open door is an invitation for someone to kill you, Zola.”
“In Aeschira, sure. But who’s going to try that here?”
He grimaces. “Yes, it’s all very…pleasant here, isn’t it?”
She laughs, a sweet, melodic sound in contrast to the grating cacophony that is more like construction site noises than music. Tebrin doesn’t appear bothered by it, but he does go to peer out the windows in curiosity.
The windows look down on a street corner where two buskers, a pair of tiefling brothers standing a distance apart from each other, are beating as hard as they can on the various-sized drums placed around them. Watching the movements of their arms, it quickly becomes apparent why they sound so off: they’re playing different rhythms. There seems to be a few pedestrians yelling and jeering at these musicians — and who are being ruthlessly ignored. Tebrin grimaces again, though more from distaste than any discomfort.
Zola raises an eyebrow at him. “What, don’t tell me you hate musicians too? If so, I’ve got some very bad news about your future wife…”
He smirks. “I’m aware of your musical proclivity, Zola. No, music is one of the great arts. But this…noise leaves something to be desired. I suppose you should feel safe with an open door if this is what people will encounter beyond… They aren’t even in sync with each other. It’s like having several conversations at once. About taxes and auditing. Here.” He hands her a small pile of business cards. “I presume you’re running out. I do hope you’ve called on me for more than this show outside, however.”
“What if I just missed your company?” She takes a long sip from her cup of tea, a mischievous glint in her eye.
“Well, obviously you do. What’s not to miss?” he says as he returns the look. “But there is a lot I am doing while you…” He shudders and points at the display outside. “…enjoy this?”
“Enjoy this? Oh no, not at all! Even though I paid them to perform like this.”
On the street, one fed-up man snatches a large drum away from one of the buskers and hurls it across the pavement in a fit of rage.
Tebrin chuckles. “Well, if this was the aim, I’m starting to see the draw.”
“This tavern was founded by a famous bard, you see, so street performances are pretty common in this corner. The patrons are appreciative even when the players aren’t very good. But look, these two guys have been going at it for less than five minutes and already I’ve seen so many people try to make them stop.” Zola turns to face him. “It’s the conflicting rhythms. It’s making people stressed out. Have you ever tried playing music in Aeschira that doesn’t have the same beat as the Heart Bell? I tried but I couldn’t, because it kind of drives you mad!”
“Yes, the city lives to a single rhythm. Quite literally.”
“Exactly. And that’s why we can use it against them.”
He turns to her and cocks an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“I’ve been thinking about what you said about my father and the Bell. How being without it made him weaker? Well, we can’t take my mother out of the city, but what we can do is…bring a different rhythm to her.”
Tebrin narrows his eyes at Zola and points out the window again. “You mean to recreate this mess in your mother’s house? I hate to tell you this, Zola, but there is almost no chance you will be taking these…‘performers’ in.”
“No, silly, we could use something else. I thought about using a spell — major image, maybe — but then I remembered that House Rhomdaen specialises in arcana so I’m guessing they can dispel that pretty quickly. A noise-making device, though; maybe a few of them, hidden in nooks around the mansion?”
The muscles in Tebrin’s face tense as he seems to be running through lines of thought internally. “So… You mean to plant these devices around her house?” He thinks for another moment before a wicked smile begins to form on his lips. “…To disrupt the rhythm of the Bell? You know, that is…actually quite clever. You surprise me, Zola. That is a particularly devious plan. It won’t help you in any way, but it would at least level the playing field somewhat.”
His red eyes settle on Zola with a level of appreciation he hasn’t really shown so far. “Perhaps you are more Aeschiran than we thought. Though you should absolutely still learn to shut your door.”
A pink shade begins to colour Zola’s cheeks. She opens and closes her mouth for a brief moment, unsure of what to say to that. “Oh, well, um… Yeah… Er, I’m not gonna lie, it’s a risky plan. It needs to go on for a few minutes before it can really take effect, so we’ve got to hope that they don’t find and disable the devices quickly. And we’ll be disturbed by the conflicting rhythms too, just not as much as them. Because their bodies have been in sync with the Heart Bell’s rhythm their entire lives.”
“Exactly, but the Bell itself would perhaps have done that to you anyway. Do you have such a device ready?”
“No… I was gonna run this by you first. You know the mansion, right? Is this a feasible plan? Are there places to hide these devices in?”
“Hmm. No doubt there are places to hide them, depending on how large they are. We would need someone on the inside to place them for us, though. I have been to the mansion, but it is always on business, not social calls where I have time to roam the halls… I think this could work. I have a few…favours I can call in to get these in place if you can get the device ready. Any thoughts as to how to manage that? You are correct in that a magical effect will simply be dispelled immediately, so the means would need to be as mundane as possible, and not so large that it could not be smuggled in.”
“Yeah, I know just the guy who can make this gizmo for me.” She sighs and rolls her eye at the thought of having to speak with Killian Gourcuff again. “You’ve got someone on the inside of House Rhomdaen? Who?”
“No one important enough to worry about, they will not be staying around for long once the deed is done anyway. But they are innocuous enough to do this for us. Who are you thinking to make this device? We need to be sure they can be trusted.”
Zola casts a worried look at the word innocuous, but she decides it’d be better to not press further. “A human inventor in the Witching Court,” she replies. “He’s an eccentric. He can’t remember anyone he’s spoken to before, so yes, he can be ‘trusted’.”
Tebrin gives her a bemused look at the description. “Zola, this does not sound like someone who can create what you are after… Are you sure about this? Firstly, a human in the Feywild. Secondly, he doesn’t remember anyone? Is he brain damaged?”
“Yeah, probably! But he gets shit done. I mean, would you like to meet him yourself?”
Tebrin thinks it over a second. “No, sounds too messy for my tastes. Just be sure he can get it done. If not, it will only make your work that much harder. Be sure of who you trust, Zola.”
Shame, she thinks. That meeting would’ve been at least fun to watch. Nonetheless, she gives him a reassuring smile. “I know. Will you trust me?”
“I have already put trust in you with this plan to begin with, Zola. Only a fool would rescind that part way through with stakes such as these.”
Always so aloof. “Okay, I’ll take that as a yes.” The winning smile remains on her face, undeterred. “Have you got somewhere else to be?”
“Depends. How soon do you think these devices can be put together? I will have a few things to get ready on my side that will take some organisation.”
“I’m not sure. I guess I’ll just go and hire the arsehole now. Hopefully he gets it done quick.” She leans in to peck a kiss on Tebrin’s cheek. “See you later tonight?”
She couldn’t keep a note of hope from slipping into her voice there. She hopes he didn’t notice.
“Here? I presume the sideshow outside will be vacated by then?”
“Yes, yes, I’ll kick them out.” She giggles. “Don’t think anyone can get in the mood with that racket anyway.”
Co-written with Anthony