[Ethereal Notions] No Requiem [Devlin]

[Hadrian]

88th Spring, 511 A.V. There was a lot to be done before Summer when he was set to leave for the most dangerous place he could think of: Ravok. Today he had found some time to sneak down into the fourth tier to visit Ethereal Notions just to poke around the books unless he ran into a ghost again. He had fed several, and now he was certain he could make soulmist from just about any combination of food with his blood and the right sort of concentration, but he hoped to learn more about what a person could do when in communication with ghosts. And so here he was, picking up this or that book he didn't recognize, leafing through, moving on. He had a lot of energy intellectually, though he was rather unathletic otherwise. Finally he found a thinner sheaf of parchment bound loosely and when he opened it, he found music. So perhaps there was a way to pacify angry spirits with music. He pulled out his ashwood flute to move his fingers along the holes in the patterns indicated over and over again until his fingers sort of had the motions memorized in the muscles. One never knew when that might come in handy. Wanting to actually play it, he looked around. It was probably a bad idea.

[Devlin Parker]

Ethereal Notions. In Devlin's experience, the name would come up mostly when people shared ghost stories they claimed to be true, but he would never truly believe. He never took the chance to test his skepticism on the matter by venturing there himself; He didn't want to push his luck.

Today, however, he was feeling entirely different about the idea. Since meeting a strange magician of sorts earlier that spring, his curiosity was piqued. He tried venturing into a bookstore about the subject, but so far could not find anything of use, not that he could understand. Since then, he had buried the notion, choosing to concentrate on what he had always done in the past. With his new 'job' entertaining people at the Rearing Stallion, he figured he should set such thinking aside for people who had more resources and time.

Spring was nearing its end and Devlin's life was falling into a comfortable routine, and he knew he should be content with the way things were going, but... Just a quick peek up at Ethereal Notions will allow his curiosity to subside, surely.

As expected, the building was empty, devoid of sound but for the tapping of his cane against wooden floorboard. He thought he could hear the shuffling paper, and assumed a window was open somewhere, the wind blowing a few pieces of parchment about. This conclusion went to hell when Devlin poked his head around a doorway to find none other than the man who had first introduced him to the subject of magic in the first place, silently playing the very same flute Devlin had helped him learn. The window was closed.

"Hadrian?" He asked inquisitively, blinking several times as though he would disappear in a flash. What are the petching chances... He couldn't wrap his mind around the coincidence.

[Hadrian]

"Devlin?" he asked, the music ceasing. A faint half-smile quirked up the side of his mouth. He had liked the musician, although his attempts to draw him out had only made him run away. Hadrian wasn't exactly a smooth operator where other people were concerned. All the same, he was happy to see the young man before his trip into sure danger. The flute sank to his lap and the sheet music resting there. "I thought my bad playing would either wake the dead or send them screaming to the Light," he quipped, half-smile going even more crooked with his self-deprecating humor. "It's good to see you, though you'll cramp my bad music making style. What brings you here?" he asked, then quickly followed up with, "If you don't mind me asking," because Devlin had been a bit leery of sharing too much about himself.

[Templar]

Hadrian: Flute: 1 Lore: Devlin: Lore: Additional notes: Herp.