PM to join [Riverwave Plantation] An Odd Sound in the Air

[Lilou]

-- Fall 70th 513AV-- Lilou was hunched over a group of plants, the sun low behind her back. She was weeding, using a funny tool to dig to the roots of the plants, and pull them out again. She then dumped their carcasses into a basket beside her, for compost later... though she wouldn't deal with that. This particular patch had been quite ignored, and the slave had spent all of her day working at it, pulling out the weeds one by one. Her back was hurting from being bent over all day, and her bare knees were stained with soil... but they were always like that. Her hands were in a similar situation. Using the metal tool, she dug it deep into the earth, forcing it there with her skinny arms. Once it was a few inches in, she pulled up, using on hand to lever the tool and the other to pull the leaves of the plant up and out of its hole. It popped out easily, and she tossed it into the basket. She'd been doing this for years... it would be odd if it took her more than half a chime on one plant. She turned for the next weed, and gulped. It was spikey, just pain in the waiting, and tall! Nearly a foot and a half. She looked at it skeptically, but steeled herself, knowing that she was going to have to remove it anyways... why not now? She reached down to the base, and grabbed a smooth green part that didn't seem to have any spikes on it. Still, the back of her hand got a few painful scratches on the way. She sighed, knowing that her tool would be useless, and set it aside, grasping the stem in both hands now. She stood, back hunched and complaining, and pulled. With a lot of effort and pulling, she finally managed to pop it out of the ground. Lilou stood there, staring at her plant in amazement, weilding it almost like she was wielding a sword... like she'd seen the Freeborns do. Still, she couldn't resist the temptation to try it out, and lunged forward with on hand, before pulling back into two. She waved the plant around a little more, in sloppy horizontal strikes and verticals. Finally realizing she had to get back to work, the girl sighed and dumped the plant in a basket. That had been fun! Just in time, one of the guards whistled. Glancing up, Lilou realized the sun was about to set... time to go back. She leaned over and lifted her basket, carrying it in two hands and following several other slaves back to the house boats. She dumped her load with a variety of other baskets, before crouching around a small fire nearby. Someone was handing out dinner... bowls of thin, but delicious smelling stew. Mouth watering, the slave took a bowl and spoon gratefully, and downed it in chimes. She handed it back, before sitting at the edge of the group of slaves, and staring at the sun, watching it slowly inch towards the horizon. Then, without notice, music started. It was beautiful... melancholy, but kind of... creepy. Almost sad. It was coming from the direction of the sun, and Lilou stared that way, wanting to go explore. It didn't sound... normal. Glancing back, she saw Freeborn glance in that direction, before turning their attention back to the other slaves. Glancing at the water before her, back, then towards the sun again, she made a decision. She knew this pool only reached the middle of her thighs... and was full of reeds. Which meant they would hide her if she went to explore. She could find the source of the sound! Heart pounding, she considered the options. Should she go through, and risk a beating if she was caught? She hesitated, stuck a toe into the murky water, before pulling it out again. No. Too risky. Instead, she shifted to a place with a better view of the sun and sat there, watching, and hoping whatever was making the music came closer. This was even better than Mistress Opal's stuff, and she was good too....

[Opal Draer]

70.fall.513av.

The day was nearly done, thank Rhaus. It had been exhausting, and not the typical music-til-you-drop kind of exhausting that she'd come to love. Every customer who had come in to the shop today had been needy or untalented or absolutely certain that they were some great untapped musical genius just searching for the proper instrument with which to influence the masses.

Well. Not that she'd been indelicate enough to make mention, but Opal was pretty sure the instrument hadn't been invented yet to help most of those people.

There had been that one child, though. Freeborn, more's the pity, but her eyes had just sparkled when she'd walked into the shop with her mother. In a rare display of manners, the child had refrained from touching a single thing in the shop without first looking to her mother for permission. Even with parental approval, the girl had shyly asked Opal for leave to handle the merchandise. It was uncharacteristically hard for Opal to tell her 'no'; she'd even taken the glass ocarina down from the mantle for the would-be musician's closer admiration.

Not that she'd allowed the little urchin to actually touch the thing, though. The instrument was worth more than the child, after all; Inarta-blown glass ocarinas didn't always make it to Kenash intact, and this one was especially beautiful.

Still, the yearning she saw in the child's face had not left Opal's heart unmoved; her mother paid a few silvers less for the small flute and basic clappers that she'd purchased before leaving the Harp.

But that, too, had taken its toll on Opal. Charity was tiring. So it was with a sigh of relief and exhaustion and self-satisfaction that Opal threw herself onto her bed, perfectly willing to let the gentle waves rocking her casinor lull her to sleep. Closing her eyes, she could almost hear an eerie, ethereal tune...

"...what the petch?" The mumbled words broke into the music, the music she could actually hear. The music that was not a figment of her overworked imagination. The music that was both breathtakingly beautiful and strangely disconcerting at once. Almost of their own volition, her feet carried her up and back off of her boat, unconsciously tracking the tune on the air.

A splash, quiet and unobtrusive, drew Opal's gaze to the water. Remi, her tavan, had decided to accompany her. Opal smiled, silently greeting the caiman, glad to not be alone in her wanderings. Tilting her head in a fruitless attempt to orient on the sound, her footsteps slowly led across the swampy reaches of Draer lands, taking her closer than was proper to the slaves' quarters. Uncaring, Opal halted as the music seemed to swell up and over Riverwave plantation.

Beautiful.

Bewitching.

Disturbing.

[Lilou]

OOC...I love that box code. It's...amazing. Wow. O.o Lilou had been sitting, watching the sunset and listening to the beautiful music. She had, by that time, decided that Mistress Opal had become incredibly good and was now playing this music somewhere out to the sun… It wasn’t like it could come out of nowhere, right? Still, it was tempting to think that it was something magical and unknown… but after several years of blunt truth, the slave had all but given up on fairy tales like that. Except Monsters. Monsters were real. But it was nice to pretend that happy magical things existed in this world, if only for a little while. She sighed and stared deeper into the shifting light, watching it reflect magnificently on the water. She’d all but drowned out the general chatter and gossip of the other slaves, instead focusing her ears on the one important thing: The song. Glancing around once, she caught a sight that made her blink in surprise. “Mistress Opal?”she blurted, utterly confused. But… wasn’t the Mistress supposed to be playing that music? What was she doing here then? She stared, open mouthed, at the Dynasty lady before her, until she remembered my manners. “I’m… I’m sorry. I thought you were playing the music….” She drifted off lamely, getting up to stand a little ways away from the Drear. Most of the other slaves hadn’t noticed the woman’s appearance, and the nearest freeborn stood, eyes half closed, staring into the sunset just like she’d done. Self-consciously, Lilou wiped her hands on the back of her slightly less muddy dress, and stood with them clasped behind her, waiting for Mistress Opal to say something. She wasn’t quite sure what to do at that time… since the music wasn’t coming from the only musician she knew… where was it coming from? Her brain was racked with confusion, but also delights at the magnificent experience. At the moment, the music had turned less calm and sad, and more epic. It was still just as beautiful though. The Drear had looked like she was enjoying it too, enough to not realize how close the other slaves were.

[Opal Draer]

OoCAwww. Thank you!
"I thought you were playing the music." Confusion was evident in the halting speech of the grubby field hand who'd noticed her standing, enraptured, at the edge of the swamp.

Brow wrinkled in annoyance, Opal turned her gaze to the interruption, mildly surprised to note that it was the slave child... Lily? Lulu? Close enough. "Clearly not," the words were clipped. Whether it was impatience with the small slave or personal frustration that she was not, in fact, the musician responsible for the melody currently commanding the swampy air was anyone's guess.

At the first sign of conversation, Remi lumbered his way up out of the water and made his ungainly way to where Opal stood, listening. His body thumped against her ankle, drawing her attention and Opal crouched beside the caiman. A delicate hand reached out to rub over the rough-textured skin of her tavan, and the two stared companionably into the swamp. If Opal was unbothered by the appearance of a healthy swamp 'monster', the surrounding slaves were not. But the murmurs and mutterings went entirely unnoticed by Opal. Remi loved music. The red-haired Draer was not at all surprised that he should choose to share in the experience - how often was such music heard? So mysterious and all-encompassing? Of course he would be interested.

Such thoughts were unwitting, fleeting, and barely registered in Opal's mind, as was the novelty of touching the caiman. It had long ago become commonplace, and Opal rarely wasted precious time thinking about everyday occurrences. Like slaves. Except for this little slave-child who, apparently, felt the music as much as Remi had.

Reluctantly, Opal momentarily directed her focus at the mongrel. She was a filthy thing, dress and skin covered in mud and looking as though she'd bathed in swamp water. Still, it had not escaped Opal's notice that, when there was music being made, this one always managed to be nearby.

"Are you musical, Lulu? Do you play anything? Or sing?" An auburn eyebrow arched at the last question; it was an unlikely concept, that this slave should have something worth Opal's musical attention. Still, Rhaus was capricious, and his influence everywhere, so Opal waited mostly patiently for an answer.

[Lilou]

Lilou nearly screamed at the appearance of the Caiman. She hadn't had much experience with monsters of that sort... but she'd heard stories about what bigger versions of it did. Bit... ate... people. It was horrifying. And this one was here to eat her! Still, she had the self control to only start violently and jump back a step, staring at the reptile in horror. A thousand terrible thoughts ran through her head: loosing a limb, getting bitten, dying. What was the most surprising of all, however, was Mistress Opal's reaction to the Caiman. She actually leaned over and petted it! Continuing to stare in shock at the scaly creature for a few moments more, she returned her glance to the Drear. The woman must be very... very brave to be able to pet that. It seemed... almost happy. Content. Friendly. She watched Mistress Opal for several ticks, obvious respect and amazement in her eyes. However, she quickly realized her mistake and dropped her glance in submission, staring at her muddy boots. The music continued to play along with their interaction, the sound creating an epic backtrack and feeling. It was amazing how... encompassing it felt. How... beautiful... just... she ran out of words to describe it, which wasn't saying much. The slave's vocabulary was small, to say the least. Despite the increasing climax, and want to hear more, she also didn't want it to end. Ever. But like all good things... it had to come to an end. That thought made Lilou sad, realizing that this amazing experience would soon come to a close... and life would return to it's dull usual self. About to sigh, the redhead posed a question that made the short girl flick her eyes up in surprise. Music? Could she play music? Well... to be honest, she'd never tried. She did like it... but... never had a need or want to sing... or play an instrument. But she wouldn't be able to play an instrument anyways... you'd need to own one first... and that was something she was unable to do. "Um... Umm" she stuttered, unsure of what to say. "I... don't play any instrument... and singing... I've never tried to sing before... that I can remember..." She felt oddly like she was failing the Drear, and like if she didn't come up with a good excuse... she be in trouble. And that was something she didn't want. In a desperate attempt to satisfy, she spluttered "But... I do like music! I really do! This... your music too!" The excitement and delight simply at the thought was obvious in her eyes, as well as the need to please. It was a funny thought, but she'd talked more to this woman then she had all day... she didn't really interact with any of the other slaves, so...Lilou shrugged mentally, not too sure what she should think. Instead, she watched Mistress Opal expectantly, waiting for the reaction.

[Opal Draer]

"Really? You don't sing at all?" Opal arched one delicate eyebrow in disbelief. She'd thought all the slaves sang - not well, mind, but at least attempted it. What else did they have to do, while they worked? It wasn't like they occupied their minds with important thoughts, slaves didn't have important thoughts. But they did have songs aplenty, she knew. Many a night had been spent skulking about the slaves' quarters, eavesdropping on their musical demonstrations.

The passing curiosity faded and Opal turned her full attention back onto the music. It was still lovely, but there was something more to it now. Something insistent. As though the artist, who- or whatever it was, was trying to communicate something to... All of Riverwave? The trail of thought led to another interesting question: was this music happening only on Riverwave? Was it the voice of a god? Maybe Rhaus, God of Music, sending a message?

Opal's heart quickened at the thought; she had long ago adopted Rhaus as her personal deity. Each day she greeted him, singing quiet praise and thanks for the day. Was Rhaus acknowledging her dedication? Or was he displeased with her efforts on his behalf? A small frown flitted across her face, and she turned back to the slave child.

"Lolli," the musician began, oblivious to the fact that the name was wrong, again, "Do you know who the God Rhaus is? The God of Music?" Even as she questioned the girl, she shook her head; of course the child would have no clue who Rhaus was. How would she have learned of him? That would be the first step, Opal decided. She was going to teach this small slave about Rhaus. The God of Music could hardly be impressed with such a humble servant as Lily, but it was a start. Opal felt very pleased with her plan; the more she thought of it, the more she liked the idea; she would turn this little child into a follower of Rhaus. It would be good practice for other, more worthy people.

A self-satisfied grin broke across her face as the music swelled once more. She interpreted it as a sign from her God that she had correctly identified his wishes and set about bringing them to fruition.

[Lilou]

The slave sighed at the woman's disappointment, it making her sad as well. She didn't really sing much, and hadn't tried... though a lot of the other slaves did, she didn't join them... though she yearned to make music of her own, she had no idea how to start... singing was completely confusing to her. You spoke... but how did you speak like that? Some said it was natural... but it wasn't natural for her. Really... the little slave didn't understand it much. Lilou frowned at the comment about Rhaus. Rhaus? She'd heard the name vaguely... mostly from the slaves who were really good singers. Since he was apparently the god of music, that made sense. And if Opal was into music... she must like Rhaus too! The little girl didn't have much concept or understanding of gods, she didn't worship on in particular, though knew slaves who did. Laviku... Syna... Nikali... gods like that. She'd only heard of a few, to be honest, but knew the Drears had a particular affinity to Laviku... Svefra and the sea and stuff. It was all a bit hazy for her, but if Mistress Opal thought it was important... well, she should too... right? "I've... I've... heard of him?" she said hopelessly, automatically assuming the god was a 'he'. Well... he was the God of music, not the Goddess. Things like that were sometimes confusing. She mostly ignored the incorrect usage of her name, not even noticing it. She actually thought it was an odd expression that she'd heard of before, rather than an incorrect word. As the music reached a climax, the notes epic and loud, Lilou glanced down and scuffed her boot in the mud. She really shouldn't be asking questions... it wasn't her place, but... "Mistress Opal.." she asked, staring determinately into the soil. "Um... Um... how do you sing?" It was an odd question to say the least, and thinking on it... she really shouldn't be asking one of the Dynasty this. She should be asking another slave. But... she didn't talk to the other slaves. What if they laughed at her? She didn't know how she stood with them. With Mistress Opal, she did. She was at the bottom.

[Opal Draer]

Opal stared at the slave in consternation, mouth slightly agape. How do you sing? It wasn't something she was used to instructing, and she certainly had never given any thought to it, being no more than passably decent as a vocalist, herself. Kat could sing, the redhead mused, before dragging her thoughts back on track. Technically, Opal could sing, too. Just not very well.

Snapping her mouth shut, she turned away from the slave to stare, once again, at the horizon. Though she appeared to be ignoring the slave, and the question, in truth, Opal was formulating an answer. But, ever mindful of her status, she was not about the speak until she was confident that her answer was the right answer. It wouldn't do for the slave to see her uncertainty. So, while she stood there, pretending to become lost in the music, Opal gave hard thought to the mechanics of singing.

How had she learned to sing? No memory flashed to the surface, no helpful anecdote describing her first clumsy tunes. It seemed to Opal that she'd always known. It was a matter of mimicry. She'd heard singing, and then simply tried to make the words coming from her own mouth sound as similar as possible. Simple.

And she knew some of the slaves sang; she'd heard the songs herself. Why had the girl not learned from one of them, if she were interested? Had she tried, only to be unable to grasp the concept? If she couldn't use her voice, the simplest instrument, so simple that every slave had access, was she even worthy of worshiping Rhaus at all? The thought gave Opal pause, and she glanced at the girl from the corner of her eye.

The picture was not promising. Her posture was defeated; very well, that was as it should be. Slaves should not be prideful, and this one had even less to recommend her than some of her counterparts. Tiny. Dirty. So dirty. Mud spatters covered the thing, and she seemed to be intent on cloaking herself in even more dirt, if the toes scuffing at the ground were any indication. Making an abrupt decision, she faced the slave once more.

"Singing is easy," Opal didn't even try to keep the disdain and mild disapproval from her voice. "You've heard singing, surely? You simply," she waved her hand vaguely, dismissively, "do it. Make your voice sound like what you hear. Stretch out your words, make them longer, make them change... Make them sound like singing." Opal frowned; it was a clumsy explanation, even after all the thought she'd put into it, and she wasn't pleased with it, but... Petch it all, how did you explain the process of singing to a child? A slave child, at that?

And who would try? The thought echoed in her head, not quite willing to be dismissed.

[Lilou]

Lilou watched Opal worriedly, hoping her question hadn't offended the lady... the Drear did seem quite surprised at the inquiry, enough to even turn and stare at the horizon for several moments. Only after she turned back did she begin to explain. It sounded a little hopeless, and didn't really make much sense... but still... the slave might as well try, right? She opened her mouth to try singing a word, but before she could even attempt the act, the music around came to a massive climax, before stopping abruptly. Just as quickly, a tremor rippled through the earth, a fitting ending for such an epic piece. However, it brought a surprised screech out of the little girl, and she fell ungracefully into the mud. Now that the music was over, the silence felt... odd. Lilou's face was a mixture of disappointment, surprise, and embarrassment at her fall. She pushed herself off the ground, brushing what she could off her skirts, but really succeeding at getting her hands muddier. After a moment of awkward silence, she muttered "It's over..." the sadness obvious in her voice. The slave sighed, before glancing back up at Mistress Opal, remembering the singing. "Um... singing... You stretch out your words? Like... siiiiiinging?" Her attempt was obviously not singing. The tone was flat, normal, instead the word just stretched out blandly. The girl winced, knowing she had failed miserably. She tried to remember some of the singing she'd heard. It was... not like normal talking. "Siiinging. Siinging. Singing" Surprised, she clapped her hands in delight, all concept of dignity gone. Not like she'd had any in the first place. "I did it! I did it! Singing, singing!" Her voice was high, and actually quite nice, though if she actually tried a particular note she'd probably fail. Still, the discovery was a major success in her life, and something she didn't want to ignore. Now that she'd figured this out... work would be so much more fun! Lilou squealed, unable to contain her joy, before suddenly remembering her company. "Oh... Sorry... Um..." She gave up hopelessly, not really sure what to give as an excuse. Instead, she waited for the Mistress's judgement, just hoping it wasn't some form of punishment...

[Opal Draer]

The music rose and crested over the plantation with an impressive, resounding roar. Opal's eyes scanned the horizon intently; surely music like that, power like that would leave a visible trace of itself... Somewhere. But she saw only the familiar stands of cacao, the swamps, and the slaves, though most were cowering fearfully and weren't much of a sight at all. Despite her rational mind, Opal couldn't negate the hope that her assumption was right; that this music was a call from Rhaus himself, and that the God might even make an appearance.

But if she was waiting for a sign of divinity, she was entirely disappointed. Once the music ended, it simply... Ended. And there was silence.

Except for the screeching of the slave girl, her newest project. She'd fallen into the mud again. Opal herself had been unbalanced by the tremors that rippled the land, but years of time spent on boats had taught her how to keep her feet in unsteady conditions. She shook her head disapprovingly at the child; in the mud again. And babbling. Opal ignored her.

Until the girl managed to sing. The Draer looked at the girl interestedly; her voice was light, high, not awful. And she was, in fact, singing, proving what Opal had suspected: it wasn't hard to sing. You just had to open your mouth and try. Vocal ability aside, anyone could sing, and she wondered again how the slave had managed to not learn how until now. But, whatever the reason, the child had found her voice; judging by her excitement, the little girl would be singing often.

"Yes. You did," Opal managed to keep the mild surprise out of her voice, before making an important point to the slave. "But all music is a gift from Rhaus. Be thankful, Lola, every time you sing, that Rhaus has granted you the gift of music." The stern tone may have been a bit intimidating, and Opal didn't want the slave to worship her God out of fear, but rather out of true gratitude. "Everyone can sing. But not everyone can sing well. For some people, the singing may bring joy to them but headaches to everyone else. You should practice, now that you've learned how, so that your voice will bring joy to others. Its not wholly bad, your voice," she gave the compliment almost as an afterthought.

While Opal had been lecturing religion, her tavan, Remi, had chosen to investigate the new source of music. He'd waddled his scaly body around behind the slave girl, and now nudged her muddied ankle with his snout. Opal smiled at her friend indulgently; he was ever a sucker for music.