#concerto speciale

[avengedsevenfoldita]

Recap Santa Ana 25-10-2024

Ieri si è tenuto al The Observatory di Santa Ana, California, il concerto per celebrare i 25 anni della band riservato solo ai possessori di Deathbats Club. Come preannunciato dalla band la setlist è stata composta solo ed esclusivamente da canzoni di Waking the Fallen e City of Evil: To End the Rapture Chapter Four Burn it Down Blinded in Chains Remenissions Seize the Day Second…

[your-local-granny]

when you (gay musician) watch the gay music anime and it makes you go crazy about the music 😐😐😐

[quartzprinz]

i need to hear live classical music or i will lose my mind one of these days

[the-scarlet-witch-22]

The Lark Ascending: Chapter Four (Agatha Harkness x Reader)

Summary: The working relationship between a conductor and their soloist was supposed to be seamless. But what happens when you're dealing with the notoriously fickle (and your ex to boot) Agatha Harkness?

Word Count: 4.7k

A/N: Hello! Here's chapter four of my conductor!Agatha sequel. Updates unfortunately depend on my schedule, but I always try to write when I can :) I've updated my tag list for Lark, so if you'd like to be added feel free to let me know! This is my favorite chapter yet, and I've linked the main piece I listened to while writing, Rachmaninov's 14 Romances: Op. 34: No 14 (Vocalise) . As always I hope you enjoy and feel free to let me know your thoughts!

Tag List: @fanficreadinglistandarchieve @chiar4anna @marisacoulterswife @getlostsquidward @rigglemethat @aquvr1us @dazzlinghahn

Previous Chapter

The relationship between a conductor and a soloist was special, as you had learned throughout your various performances. There was a certain level of trust that was required on the soloist’s end; to have no doubt that the conductor would follow their lead and guide the rest of the ensemble along with them. 

The conductor needed to hold the same belief, only that the soloist was confident enough in their music to make it through the selected concerto without faltering. One missed entrance or unsteady tempo change could send the entire orchestra falling off the cliff with them.

It was a push and pull dynamic, with the temperament of the conductor and potential ego of the soloist threatening to throw everything off balance. You had never experienced any issues with past conductors you had worked with, but none of them were Agatha.

You had scarcely seen the conductor since your intimate conversation at the gala the week prior. While her words of encouragement had been giving you the boost of confidence you had been lacking, it was hard to focus on any of that when your brain had been so fixated on what happened right after. Or rather, what would have happened if you hadn’t been interrupted. 

It didn’t help that you failed to catch Agatha alone in the days after. She was usually with Tony going over (rejecting) his new marketing ideas, or being trailed by a frazzled looking Scott frantically writing down whatever instructions Agatha would bark at him from over her shoulder. 

The more you thought about it, you really didn’t understand how that particular arrangement was working out.

You had been trying to work up the nerve to approach Agatha all week, which was why you decided to come in earlier than was needed. There wasn’t a rehearsal you needed to attend and no meetings until the afternoon, so you were hoping to catch the conductor when she came in.

It was strange, feeling this conflicted. To not really know where you stood with her after all this time. You believed her when she said you were friends, and maybe that was all you were supposed to be. 

You didn’t want to linger on why that thought made you as upset as it did.

However, it appeared luck was on your side this morning, as Agatha was rounding a corner, engrossed in reading something on her phone. Her dark brown hair fell over her shoulders, and your eyes focused on her white dress shirt that was tucked into her purple dress slacks. You couldn’t help but notice her bare skin, as she had left a few of the buttons undone. 

She noticed you after a moment, and her face lit up.

“What are you doing here?” Agatha asked curiously, pocketing her phone and removing her glasses. “I don’t have you scheduled for rehearsal until Friday.”

“I know,” you said suddenly, craning your neck to look over at her. “I was hoping we could talk about the other night.”

“Hm?” Agatha responded as she glanced at you, rolling up the sleeves of her shirt. “Whatever do you mean?”

You averted your gaze at the sight of her toned arms and her lithe fingers securing the sleeves stayed in place. If Agatha noticed the faint blush on her cheeks she didn’t comment on it.

Clearing your throat, you gave her a pointed look. “After the gala?”

The conductor had a blank expression on her face, before she nodded. “Oh, you mean my assistant? It’s so hard to find good help nowadays.”

“No, I don’t mean Scott,” you dismissed her, frowning as you tried to get her attention. “Agatha, come on, are we really not going to talk about what almost happened?”

Agatha feigned innocence, giving your arm a quick gentle squeeze . “You’ve been under so much stress these past few weeks, dear. Consider it all forgotten.”

“What?”

As the conductor went to open her mouth, she shook her head. “If you’ll excuse me, I have an assistant to reprimand.”

Whipping your head around, you found Scott struggling to carry three huge cardboard boxes down the hallway. 

“Lang! I know I asked to have those delivered to my hotel. What are they doing here?” Agatha seethed as she stormed off.

As Scott started to explain, he dropped one of the boxes in the process and you watched as it comically fell to the ground. Agatha pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration, not assisting him in picking it up, merely instructing him to take them one by one to her office. 

“Believe me, none of us get it either,” Monica said as she came to stand next to you, observing Scott and Agatha. 

“How long has Scott been working for her?” You asked, as you couldn’t help but wonder if he had just started.

Agatha wasn’t known for her patience, or for giving second chances. The multiple assistants she had apparently fired before you, and dozens of interns after, serving as proof to the high standards she tended to live by. 

“I think he’s been her assistant for over a year now,” Monica explained, looking puzzled as Scott tried pushing all three boxes stacked up on top of each other. “It’s funny, it’s the longest she’s kept someone around since…”

It took you a moment to realize she trailed off, and you forced yourself to look away as Agatha told Scott to stop, insisting that she would take care of it herself.

“Since what?” You prompted, and Monica uncomfortably looked to the ground.

“Well, since you,” Monica said, keeping her voice low enough so none of the other musicians could hear her. 

“I’m sure that’s not true. She had to have kept someone around for a while, right?” You asked, thinking back on if your former stand partner ever mentioned any of your replacements, until you came short. 

Out of all the things you and Monica would discuss whenever you both had time to catch up you realized she never once brought up Agatha.

Monica grimaced, shooting another quick glance in Agatha’s direction as she was shooing Scott away from trying to help her. “Not really, no. It was pretty bad after you left.”

“Bad how?” 

Monica sighed, and it seemed like to you she was torn between telling you or not. She tugged on your arm, leading you away from the concert hall to a deserted corner.

“None of us thought anything of it at first. You know how she can be,” Monica said quietly, and you nodded because you did know how difficult Agatha could be to work with. “A few people thought she was trying to annoy Hayward by firing them so quickly, but then he was arrested.”

“Yeah, you could have mentioned that before,” you said, remembering Agatha dropping that bomb on you last week.

Monica shifted then, an uneasy expression on her face. 

“What?” You questioned, not liking the way she was looking at you.

“Nothing,” Monica insisted, but she refused to meet your eyes. “Hayward was gone, and she seemed to get along better with the new guy, but she was still going through a new assistant every few weeks.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad,” you commented, but Monica looked at you then and shook her head. “So what changed?”

“No one knows,” Monica admitted. “She hired Scott on and it’s been that way for around a year, maybe a little longer. To be fair she’s been gone a lot of the time, but still.”

Right, you thought to yourself, Agatha had been traveling a lot. Not that you knew where she was going.

Unfortunately that was the moment the conductor in question came traipsing back around the corner, more agitated than before, and you could just barely hear her telling Scott to go feed Scratchy after rehearsal. 

“Orchestra,” Agatha called out, roughly running her fingers through her hair as she strolled past you. “As much as I’d love to sit around a campfire with all of you and join hands as we go around sharing stories on our past traumas and various metaphorical battle scars, I believe it would benefit all of us to be on stage for rehearsal, yes?”

“I’ll see you later,” Monica said reassuringly, before taking off in the same direction as the rest of the orchestra. 

Later that afternoon, you were getting ready to go home for the day. You had a rather productive meeting with Pepper over any changes you wanted for promotional materials going into opening night.

Unfortunately, you spent most of the time stewing over Agatha’s typical elusiveness. You were used to it by now, but you couldn’t help but feel frustrated over her hot and cold behavior. It was just how she was with everyone, and if Agatha hated anything it was being inconsistent.

As you prepared to leave, you noticed someone entering the building. It was a woman you had never seen before.

She was beautiful, you noted, and wore an expensive looking pale pink pantsuit. Holding a matching clutch in her hand, she took off her designer sunglasses and she appeared to be lost. When she noticed you, her face lit up, heels click-clacking on the floor as she walked over to you. 

“Excuse me,” the woman said, lowering her clutch to her side as she looked at you. “Do you know where Tony Stark’s office is?”

“Oh, yeah it’s right down that hallway. First door on your left,” you answered, pointing in the correct direction. 

“Thank you,” the woman replied politely, sticking out her hand to shake yours. “I’m Jennifer Kale, but I’m sure you’ve heard of me.”

The name sounded relatively familiar, but you failed to place how you knew of her. Giving her an apologetic smile, you shook your head.

Jennifer raised her eyebrows, surprise coloring her features. “Well, I’m the founder of Kale Kare. We focus on providing musicians with holistic health and wellness.”

Kale Kare…you had heard of that once or twice, but you still couldn’t remember how. Maybe a social media ad?

“Oh cool,” you said sincerely, blushing slightly at the small smile Jennifer gave you in return. “I’m-”

“I already know who you are,” Jennifer said, and laughed at the dumbfounded look on your face. “I mean, how could I not? Half the city is plastered with posters of your face.”

Oh right, the LA Symphony promotional posters, you had actually passed a few on your way into rehearsal earlier.

“I keep forgetting about those,” you quietly admitted, and Jennifer laughed again.

“Besides, even if I hadn’t seen those, you certainly look like her type,” Jennifer added conversationally, and you froze.

“I’m sorry?”

“Agatha is a lot of things, but she’s always been predictable,” Jennifer sighed, looking you up and down. “You’re not the first soloist she’s been with.”

Letting out a nervous chuckle, you looked down at the ground. “I’m not with Agatha. You must have confused me with someone else.”

“Oh?” Jennifer asked, tilting her head to the side as she regarded you. “Are you not the assistant she was sleeping with back in New York? The one who left for Vienna?”

Oh.

“That’s not…” you trailed off, wondering if maybe you somehow hit your head earlier and were actually dreaming this entire interaction from a concussed state. “That’s not how I’d describe it.”

“I must have it wrong then,” Jennifer shrugged, but gave you a look that suggested she didn’t believe you. “That’s just what I had heard.”

“Heard from who?” You hesitantly questioned, as you had been under the impression you and Agatha had been rather discreet during the time you spent together.

“You know how musicians are, always gossiping,” Jennifer offered, giving you a wink. “But I guess they were mistaken.” 

There had been a few instances in which you had wondered if you and Agatha weren’t as careful as you once thought. But, replaying the conversation you just shared with Monica, you wondered if there was truth to what Jennifer was suggesting. Both that you were less discrete than you thought, and more troubling- that Agatha actually cared when you left. 

No, that can’t be it. You were sure Agatha’s attitude after you left didn’t have anything to do with you, she didn’t strike you as the type to pine. 

If only you had been as lucky in that department.

“Yeah, they must have been,” you insisted, trying to shove those thoughts to the back of your mind.

Maybe you should talk to Monica later, get some peace of mind.

“I thought I smelled the faint stench of desperation and fraud,” Agatha’s voice cut through the awkward silence that had filled the hallway, and you jumped at the sound. 

The conductor approached you and Jennifer, hands in her purple dress slacks as she sauntered over, a hesitant Scott closely following her. “What pray tell have we lowly peasants done to deserve such a pleasant surprise, Jen?”

“I’d say it’s nice to see you again Agatha, but lying is more your specialty than mine,” Jennifer greeted the conductor, a smile tugging on her lips. “I’ve heard you’ve been keeping busy.”

Agatha sniffed, tossing her bag at Scott, nearly taking him down to the ground. “No more than usual. What are you doing here?”

“I’m expanding my business to the LA Symphony,” Jennifer announced, her eyes locked on Agatha’s. “I have a meeting with Tony to go over our upcoming partnership.”

“Oh good, another potential lawsuit to add to your ever growing collection,” Agatha quipped, raising her left hand as her index finger tapped against her cheek, a contemplative expression on her face. “By the way, how are your legal woes faring?”

It was then you remembered how you knew of Kale Kare…Agatha. The conductor had once briefly ranted about the company and its founder, Jennifer. It was unsurprising that Agatha wasn’t sold on the holistic remedies that the company swore by, but you never asked what had happened between the two of them that made the conductor as sour as she appeared to be.

“Funny, Agatha, but almost all of those were thrown out by the judge,” Jennifer fired back, and you wondered what ‘almost all of those’ meant. “Besides, based on what I’ve been told, you could actually benefit from some of our treatments.”

Agatha pursed her lips, the frown lines on her forehead becoming more prominent as she arched an eyebrow. “I highly doubt that, I’d be surprised if any of that goop you sell is actually organic.” Turning to Scott, she tossed her keys at him, shaking her head as he fumbled attempting to catch them. “Lang, why don’t you make yourself useful and go lock up my office.”

Scott looked thankful to be excused from the conversation, as he scurried away. You had to admit, you were slightly jealous he was able to leave, as you were currently stuck between Agatha and Jennifer.

“Well Stephen certainly seems to think differently,” Jennifer continued, taking a step closer to the conductor, folding her arms across her chest.

“Of course he’s one of your clients. That man has been living in LA for far too long,” Agatha deadpanned, shooting Jennifer a nasty glare. 

“Typical Agatha, hiding behind some biting insults,” Jennifer observed, giving you a quick once over. “Besides, there’s no need to be so humble. I’m sure your…soloist was flattered by it.”

“Flattered by what?” You questioned, looking back and forth between the conductor and Jennifer, confusion growing.

“You didn’t tell her, did you?” Jennifer guessed, poorly attempting to stifle a laugh whilst Agatha balled her hands into fists at her side. “It’s nice to see you haven’t changed, Agatha.”

“Didn’t tell me what?” You asked, focusing on Agatha who shrugged in response.

“That’s my cue,” Jennifer said, brushing her hand against your arm as she started to walk away. “It was nice to meet you, good luck with your concerts.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled, waiting until the woman was out of earshot before narrowing your eyes at Agatha. “Agatha, what was she talking about?”

“Ignore her, all of those wellness treatments and supplements have made her more delusional than normal,” Agatha insisted, wrapping an arm around your shoulder to turn you around in the opposite direction.

Your breath hitched at the physical contact, but attempted to remain your composure. “I thought we were done with the games. What aren’t you telling me?”

Agatha froze for a moment, eyes shifting around before refocusing, not removing her arm from where it was wrapped around your shoulders. “It’s nothing to worry about, dear. Jen just enjoys getting under my skin.”

Only, the more you thought about it the more you realized you didn’t believe her. There were far too many inconsistencies in the conductor’s stories, but what you were failing to grasp was why she wasn’t just telling you the truth. 

What she was doing in LA. What happened to Stephen, because that particular question had more bad possibilities than good. Where she had been traveling to so secretly for the past year. 

Why she refused to talk about your almost kiss.

Shaking her arm off, you shook your head. “No. This isn’t like before, Agatha. I’m not just some assistant you can boss around and belittle.”

“I don’t think I ever belittled you,” Agatha lightly corrected you, and you let out a deep sigh. 

“That’s not the point.”

“Oh? Is there a point to this little temper tantrum?” Agatha questioned as she crossed her arms across her chest. “I was worried you were breaking barriers and rising above the diva allegations most soloists succumb to. It’s nice to see that isn’t the case.”

“That’s really nice,” you said sarcastically, attempting to keep your temper in check. “What did Jennifer mean when she brought up Stephen?”

There was a flash of displeasure on the conductor’s face before she masked it. 

Giving you a sly grin, she winked. “Are you interrogating me, dear? Should we take this somewhere more private?”

“Stop it,” you said dismissively, growing more irritated with every word she spoke. “Why can’t you just give me a straight answer.” 

“Well I think we both know the answer to that,” Agatha teased, leaning in closer until her breath was warm against your face. “But if you need a reminder, I’d be more than happy to provide one.”

“Stop it,” you repeated, patience wearing thin. 

Agatha always enjoyed having the upper hand, and as easy as it felt to slip back into a role you were once very comfortable with, things had changed. You changed. Deciding to switch up your line of questioning, you thought back to what Monica had just shared with you.

“Why did you go through so many assistants after I left?”

Agatha noticeably tensed at that, her eyebrows furrowing and she took a step back, putting her hands in her pockets. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re referring to.”

“Of course you don’t,” you said, letting out a bitter laugh as Agatha’s expression hardened. 

“Whatever it is you’re implying, I suggest you stop. Maybe spend more time focusing on your upcoming performance,” Agatha suggested, lips curling upwards to form a smirk. “After all, we wouldn’t want a repeat of last week’s…incident, would we?”

The memory of your anxiety attack and conversation that had followed with Agatha came rushing back to you. You bowed your head, feeling your cheeks warm at the humiliating reminder. 

“I should have known better,” you mumbled, each second you chose to stay in this conversation proving to be a mistake. “I thought maybe you missed me, but you aren’t capable of feeling that way towards anyone, are you?”

Agatha’s eyes flashed menacingly, and she recoiled as if you struck her. Turning on her heel she stormed off without another word, leaving you alone once again.

The regret hit as soon as she was out of sight, you knew you shouldn’t have said that to her. But then again, maybe if she was more forthcoming and honest with you, then you wouldn’t have snapped. 

Agatha had a special talent to make you lose your mind, in more ways than one. She was unlike anyone you had ever met, and as many positives as that held there was the occasional reminder of her darker side. 

You sometimes questioned if any of her feelings for you back then were real, or if she just got off on the power trip. 

It was hard, being this torn, and as much as you still cared for her you were starting to get the feeling that it wasn’t reciprocated. At least, not in the way you wanted it to be. You didn’t just want to go back to how things were before. You weren’t just an assistant anymore, you had made a name for yourself.

It was foolish to think you’d ever be as well-known or talented as Agatha, but you liked to believe that you were on a more equal footing this time around.

But it appeared Agatha didn’t feel the same way.

As you finally left for the day, one of the interns came running up with a bag addressed to you. Apparently Jennifer Kale had left some of her products for you to try, along with a note suggesting the two of you talk about a possible PR partnership for the brand.

You spent the rest of your afternoon and evening the way you typically did when you needed to unwind and not spend too much time practicing. Setting your violin in the sitting room, you spent a few hours curled up on the couch reading a book. You would periodically check your phone, some part of you secretly waiting for a text or message from Agatha, but there was nothing.

It did cross your mind that maybe you should apologize, but knew it was moot. You both needed time to cool off.

Deciding to look at the products Jennifer gifted you, it wasn’t a surprise that everything looked and smelled nice enough. Her company certainly seemed to spend enough time with the presentation, as the bottles were all beautiful and almost looked like potion vials. You decided to try out one of the face masks, and you briefly read a few of the ingredients. 

A small voice did question how 100% natural it was, but it smelled nice and it was free so you weren’t going to complain.

You were so wrapped up in applying the face mask you barely heard your doorbell ring. It took you a moment to register the noise, and you checked the time on your phone to reveal it was half past ten. You weren’t expecting company, so you ignored it, spreading the mask evenly over your face. 

The buzzing of your phone caused you to pause, rinsing your hands in the sink before grabbing the device to reveal you had a new text message.

Agatha: Knock knock

After your last conversation with the conductor she was the last person you wanted to see right now, but if there was one thing Agatha was, it was persistent. The doorbell rang again and you huffed, she really had some nerve. 

Storming out of the bathroom, you whipped the front door open, revealing Agatha with her finger pressed against the doorbell. The conductor’s dark brown hair was pulled back with a hair tie, loose strands flying everywhere. You did a double take at her casual attire, the baggy black sweatpants and tight fitting t-shirt that read ‘What’s The Difference Between A Conductor And God? God Doesn’t Think He’s A Conductor’. 

“Took you long enough,” Agatha mused, nose scrunching in disgust when she saw what you had on your face. “Didn’t realize you were interested in having hives break out across your face.”

“What do you want, Agatha?” You questioned, ignoring her jab.

The conductor paused, appearing to realize how irritated you were. Her bright blue eyes were locked on your own, and she took a small step forward, placing her hands against yours. “Can I come in?”

“You’re joking,” you retorted, the earlier argument still ringing in your ears. “You have to be joking. No, you cannot come in. Goodnight, Agatha.”

As you went to slam the door in her face, she stuck her foot in, blocking it. She gave you a rare pleading glance. “Please?”

You could count on one hand the number of times she had ever said that word to you, or to anyone for that matter. Feeling your annoyance fade slightly, you relented. Moving to the side to allow her to come in, trying to restrain the shiver of feeling her body brush against yours. 

“What are you doing here?” You asked again, folding your arms across your chest after you shut the door, locking it.

The conductor was looking at you with an unreadable expression, as her tongue slowly licked her lips. Your eyes were fixated on the gesture, unable to look away until you finally cleared your throat, forcing yourself to look at her with a newfound sense of confidence.

“If you don’t have anything to say I think you should be going,” you asserted, something that surprised both you and the conductor as she raised her eyebrows. 

“You’re wrong,” the conductor said, so quietly you could barely hear her.

“What?” 

“You’re wrong,” Agatha repeated, louder this time.

“If you came here to insult me, you can leave,” you stated, going to open the door.

It was hard to say how it happened, really. Agatha was a lot faster than she looked, and she had your back pressed against the wall, hands pinned at your sides before you could blink. She towered over you, chest heaving as you felt her breath hot against your neck. 

“Agatha…” 

“I’ve never met anyone as stubborn as you,” Agatha breathed out, releasing one hand to gently cup your chin, forcing you to look up at her. “Do you have any idea how infuriating you are?”

You blinked, feeling your head spin as you wondered if this was really happening. Agatha had made countless appearances in your dreams over the years, each feeling more real than the last. It felt like she was haunting you, a cruel shadow you could never escape from. 

But this was real, you noted as you breathed in the subtle but rich scent of her floral shampoo. After all this time, she was really here.

“Agatha,” you whispered again, heart pounding against your chest as blood rushed in your ears. 

The conductor released your other hand, raising her own to tangle in your hair as she pulled you impossibly closer to her, lips ghosting over your own. 

Before you could form a coherent thought, Agatha finally did the one thing you had been yearning for since you left her all those years ago, closing the distance as she smashed her lips against yours. 

All of the times you had reminisced on this, the random bodies you had used as replacements over the years, nothing could ever come close to the real thing. The very real feeling of Agatha’s mouth moving fervently against your own, as she hungrily drank from you like a woman dying of thirst. Her tongue darted out, seeking entrance to your mouth and you could only let out a small whimper as she deepened the kiss.

Agatha let out a muffled groan at that, growing more desperate in her attempts to unravel you, which is why you let out a disappointed whine as she broke away, fingers still woven in your hair.

Panting, the conductor closed her eyes, trying to catch her breath, and you were thankful she had you pressed against the wall because you doubt you’d be able to stand on your own. When she reopened them, her pupils were fully blown out. Her hand caressed your cheek, and you leaned into the tender gesture. 

“I missed you,” Agatha murmured, and she was holding you so delicately, like she was afraid you would break if she pushed too far. 

“I missed you too,” you echoed, feeling tears begin to swell in your eyes.

You thought getting your big break as a soloist would fix the giant hole leaving Agatha had created. But despite all you had accomplished, it still felt like something was missing. You had tried everything, but it wasn’t until this very moment, feeling Agatha’s body flush against your own, with her bright blue eyes searing into your soul, did you come to the startling revelation of what you had been missing. 

Agatha. 

It was always Agatha.

[whencyclopedia]

Antonio Vivaldi

Antonio Vivaldi (1678-1741) was an Italian violin virtuoso and composer of baroque music (c. 1600-1750). Best known for his violin concertos, notably The Four Seasons, Vivaldi made a significant contribution to the evolution of instrumental music, influencing Johann Sebastian Bach (1685-1750) amongst many others, particularly in the concerto form.

Early Life

Antonio Lucio Vivaldi was born in Venice on 4 March 1678. His father was a professional violinist (but had been a baker before that) who was a member of the orchestra of St. Mark's in Venice. Antonio, the eldest of six children, was taught by his father to play the same instrument. The family home still stands today on the Fondamenta del Dose canal. Antonio also studied to become a priest from 1693 and was ordained in 1703. Vivaldi had red hair which led to his nickname il prete rosso (‘the Red Priest'). The decision to join the priesthood did no harm to his musical career as, from 1709, Vivaldi also worked as a violin teacher in a Venetian orphanage for girls, the Conservatorio Pio Ospedale della Pietà. The Conservatorio attracted talented solo musicians to its regular orchestra and choir for which Vivaldi composed pieces for performance in special services like Lent. Vivaldi gained more time for composing when he was exempted from joining Mass on medical grounds; he had what he called stretezza di petto ('a tightness of the chest'), an ailment that never went away. Vivaldi returned frequently to the Conservatorio throughout his career and was appointed its concert director in 1735.

Continue reading...

[deramin2]

Matt Mercer's Impressive Voice Acting

Critical Role Presents: Winter's Crest (A Holiday Album) really hits home what an incredible voice actor Matthew Mercer is. Once in a generation talent.

Voice Acting legend Mel Blanc was known as "The Man Of A Thousand Voices." (Probably an underestimate.) Matt Mercer's voiced around 2,250 voices in the Critical Role campaigns alone (not counting sound effects), many so distinctive the audience can tell a recurring character from voice alone before they're formerly reintroduced.

And now the Holiday Album shows that he can also belt out singing very well in some of his goofiest accents and have then fully come through. Which is so incredibly hard. The rest of the cast did a great job as well, but Matt's parts were harder and more exaggerated.

Everyone in the voice acting/TTRPG performance professions around him seems very impressed by his skill, but I don't see as much acknowledgement from average viewers. Like, "Oh yeah, he's that guy who can just talk in any voice that he collects like a parrot and hold full on conversations with himself and make a lot of mouth sounds. Pretty immersive!"

Meanwhile if you actually run the numbers it's like saying that once a week you get to hear someone improvise voice acting as difficult as Tchaikovsky's Piano Concerto No. 1 or Violin Concerto (which are so difficult they were both considered unplayable in their day). Do not feel bad if you can't live up to Matt's performances at your table. You probably can't play pickup basketball like LeBron James either, or do gymnastic flips like Simone Biles. That's part of why Matt himself tells people they don't need to be like him to run games well because everyone has their own special skill.

Just gotta sit back and appreciate an artist working at the height of their ability to do something very special. Admiration and aspiration can drive new artists to develop their own incredible skills, but the statics of reaching that skill level are against you. It's the end of the Bell Curve, not a minimum to have fun. Treating Matt's skill as a mark to measure everyone else against will just make you perpetually and unreasonably disappointed. You can be much happier just cooling for everyone's different skills and strengths instead.

We get to see something very special and difficult every week done so well in looks easy. I love running that math from time to time to remind myself just how cool it is and not let normalcy diminish that awe.

[cerastes]

Okay, Hades 2!

Supergiantgames does it again. It’s still Early Access, but it has more polish and content than a lot of fully released games on its price point and higher. Of course, all this content would not matter if it wasn’t good. It’s good. From gameplay to voice acting to sound design to music to graphics and visual elements, Hades 2 is airtight. There’s one exception we’ll discuss, but otherwise, it’s incredibly well crafted.

So far, there’s only one instance in the game I can say needs some important improvements: The second phase of the Tartarus boss, Chronos, who is an end boss. Not in terms of difficulty, mind you, it’s in terms of visual clarity: There’s so many lights and particle effects that making out what’s up can be frustrating, especially when Chronos hits you anywhere from 20~ to 35 damage, or, you know, his 1000 damage practical instakill. The instakill is HEAVILY telegraphed and easy to deal with, almost trivial, but in the concerto of lights and fireworks, it’s possible to miss one or two seconds of Going To The Don’t Die space and getting mulched. That’s not a big problem, it’s just a user experience issue that you just internalize after a few tries and some short term frustration. What IS an issue is Chronos using the Liu Kang flying kick from midst an incomprehensible mishmash of light graphics and taking out 25 HP plus forcing you to reposition in a fight that’s quite lengthy and in a game that’s stingy with its HP.

They don’t need to meddle with his difficulty! They just need to make the second phase easier to parse. It’s a great fight otherwise.

On the Melinoë end of things, some boons and weapons feel like they could use a touch-up: The Torches let you keep shooting while you dodge and move (movement speed reduced), for example, and you NEED to keep shooting to activate Omega Attack which is what actually does damage. But it’s a big commitment because now your defense option is also doubly important as your main movement tool AND your i-frames. This is all really cool! Except the damage does not at all make up for it in a game where the Torches’ linear nature hurt it more than help it, as enemies don’t line up and instead go around each other or otherwise have specialized movement and attack options. The Axe, with its wide sweeps, does pretty much all the Torches want to do, with a lot more damage and less risk. The Aspects of the Torches would try to help: Moros can be nifty, but the ghosts the Moros Torches shoot are physical objects to each other, so they pile up and soon your shots just collide with each other and don’t reach the enemy. It’s a constant tug o’ war with detonating them with Special, which, again, fun, but you have to set up real Hellzone Grenades before they are truly damaging. Basically, a ton of effort for damage I can easily get more safely and easily with other Arms. Which I hope they address, because I like the Torches.

Hestia’s boon is a bit underwhelming, but that’s expected from the DoT build, those are always the hardest to balance. Dionysius in Hades 1 was really strong. Hestia here has potential but ultimately falls off hard because no matter how much you build, it always ticks at 40 per second. That’s very low DPS for Boons that otherwise add no Attack%. With Sister Blades, I can rack up 600 Scorch and it’s still better if I grab Aphrodite instead and do that much damage in a few attacks instead.

And you know what you are seeing here in these paragraphs? Very easily tweaked things in a game in Early Access by a developer known to deliver. I am not worried at all. This game kicks ass.

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

I’m back with the dear Mr Stabby to request the lesser seen Skeleton’s reactions to the beloved Roomba!

(Ie, The mafias, Horrorswap, HorrorFell, ink, error, the Dances, Farmtale, ECT! Whoever you want, I’m just begging for more Mr Stabby ^^!!!!)

Your work is lovely still! 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻

The first part of this ask is right here!

Horrorswap Sans - He watches the robot pass by, completely confused. Then just shrugs and goes on with his day. That's probably another human cultural thing he can't understand.

Horrorswap Papyrus - He's stuck in a corner, and that horrible thing is slowly coming for him. Pumpkin is more and more nervous, trying to push it back with his foot to make it go away. He doesn't like it, and he swears it's following him around. Get rid of it, he's scared.

Horrorfell Sans - He stares in silence as the robot keeps bonking his leg. Uh. Is that the best you can do to attack him? Well, that's pitiful. He kicks it, turning it on it's back like a turtle. Now that it's buzzing pitifully, Copper is laughing at it. He's clearly stronger!

Horrorfell Papyrus - He was sitting on the couch, watching TV, when suddenly he noticed his wheelchair was nowhere to be found. The Roomba kinda pushed it to the other side of the room. Chief gasps, angry. How dare this thing attack him? He doesn't care if he has to crawl on the floor, he's going to get his revenge. He's not scared of that knife!

Outertale Sans - You call that a menace? He gives the ability to fly to Mr Stabby. Now that's actually a menace as the Roomba flies back to you, his knife pointing at your face.

Outertale Papyrus - You hear a loud "WHO PUT A FREAKING KNIFE ON THE FREAKING ROBOT?! THERE ARE CHILDREN HERE YOU IRRESPONSIBLE FREAKS!" Uh oh. It seems Sun is not too happy with Mr Stabby.

Dancetale Sans - He tries to keep his serious as Mr. Stabby is cleaning the dance room in front of all of his students, who are clearly trying not to laugh. He swears he's on the verge of laughing too, but he's working and it's already hard enough for him to have authority, it's definitely not helping.

Dancetale Papyrus - Oh come on! Not in the middle of his grand finale! He was about to show his special moves when that stupid robot casually passed by on the stage, making the crowd laugh. You ruined his grand finale. He's so mad! Why does it always happen to him? First that annoying dog! Now the Roomba! Is he a joke for the universe?!

Dancefell Sans - He trips on it, stabbing himself. The knife is stuck between two of his ribs and he can't take it out. So he gave up. When you come home, poor Rumba is dragged by the Roomba around the house, looking depressed. He's not amused.

Dancefell Papyrus - Well, it's obviously free Tik Tok content and he immediately grabs his phone to film an epic chase in the house against the evil Roomba. Mr Stabby is now famous worldwide and everyone wants one.

Farmtale Sans - Why would you clean the house if it's already clean? Sam picks up the Roomba and sets it loose inside the farm to clean the dirt on the floor. Not only he didn't notice the knife, but now Mr Stabby is dead after trying to clean the dirt outside, which killed its engine. Sam is no fun.

Farmtale Papyrus - He uses it to scare the chicken so they enter their henhouse faster. It's like his new border collie, except it's a Roomba. Ben is very proud of his idea though. Maybe he got a new concept for a robot actually.

Mafiatale Sans - He takes Mr Stabby on a mission and uses it as a diversion to confuse the rival mafia members, before attacking them in the back. Mr. Stabby is a lifesaver, you're never seeing it again as Asgore decides he's an official member of the mafia now.

Mafiatale Papyrus - Oh thanks, he needed a knife. He grabs Mr Stabby's knife and stabs his opponent several times with it. He pats the Roomba on the way out to thank it for his services. He's keeping the knife though.

Mafiafell Sans - You're living in a concerto of constant barks. Fang's dogs really like Mr Stabby. To the point they're all chasing it around the house, barking like crazy and trying to catch him. Fang thinks it's cute, but you regret the time when you could do anything in silence honestly.

Mafiafell Papyrus - He watches in disbelief as Mr Stabby ruins his very important meeting by casually passing by in the background, knocking several times against Asgore's legs who seems less and less happy every passing second. He ends up discreetly stabbing Mr Stabby so it stops moving for good and so he can continue the meeting in silence.

Ink - He wanted to see if Mr Stabby could visit other universes, so he opened a portal under it. Let's just say a random Sans will have the scare of his life when he receives Mr Stabby on the head out of nowhere.

Error - He tries to keep his cool, but he's getting madder by the second. That stupid robot is cleaning the antivoid, with its stupid knife taped above it. There's nothing to clean in the antivoid. There's literally nothing in the antivoid. Why did you put that horrible thing in his perfect antivoid? Fortunately, after an hour or so, Mr Stabby gets lost somewhere in that huge blank space. The legend says he's still vacuuming the place to that day.

Disbelief Papyrus - Mr Stabby vacuumed his long scarf and now Delta is on the floor, trying to get it back while avoiding the sharp knife that threatens to stab one of his eye sockets. Once the scarf is saved, he picks it up and sends it back to you. He blocks his door so Mr Stabby doesn't come back :(

Killer Sans - That's his new pet, they're matching! Killer tapes several other stabbies on Mr Stabby so he can stab from every angle he's turning into. The only victim of Mr Stabby stabby stabs is the wall, as the knives are actually very sharp and make huge holes in the wallpaper.

Dustale Sans - You told him Killer transformed into Mr Stabby and now Dune is devastated, desperately shaking the Roomba to ask Killer to come back and to not give up on him too. Killer enters the room half an hour later and is just very confused when he sees Dune cry, screaming his name, hugging Mr Stabby against him lol.

[xinfinityl0ve17]

"This action which is almost unthinkable in the norms of rock bands, stirred up mixed reactions. However, this also became a hot topic and further boosted their popularity. You can witness this in performances like "S-CONSCIOUS," where they all wear bondage costumes and deliver digital hard tunes, and in the pop like "Je te veux," where all members except Gackt play percussion instruments while performing. In "Brise," there's even a scene where Mana rides a roller scooter around the stage, showing a playful expression.

Additionally, what deserves special mention is that many of their songs are very "pop" and easy to remember. The songs, crafted under the concept of medieval Europe possessed delicate and melancholic melodies. The meticulous and heavy arrangements, combined with Gackt's sweet and silky voice, polished these melodies into superb pop pieces that left an indelible impression, one that lingered long after you heard them. In fact, every single they released after their debut charted high in the hit rankings. This DVD includes live performances of singles with beautiful melodies such as "ma chériebeloved to you," "Gekka no Yasoukyoku (Moonlight Nocturne)," "Bel Air In the Blank Moment," and "Le ciel." Tracks like "N.P.s N.G.s," "Je te veux," and "Brise" also feature catchy melodies and are fan-favorites at their live shows. Moreover, there are many rare video clips included, such as the solo performance "Hamon/Concerto" where Gackt's piano intertwines with Kami's drums.

The DVD culminates in the final scene at Yokohama Arena, where all the members appear with feathers larger than their height. Among them, Gackt, with black wings reminiscent of a fallen angel, floats in the air and passionately sings "Le Ciel" while bleeding. It is truly a dreamlike scene that embodies the "ultimate visual kei." After watching this, it's easy to understand why, even after MALICE MIZER disbanded, there have been very few follower bands. With such a perfectly realized world, there was no room left for anyone to follow. They are indeed a one of a kind band. This DVD fully captures their appeal, and it's a must-see for anyone who hasn’t yet experienced the sound and visuals of MALICE MIZER.

From SHOXX 179

[wutherguides]

Jiyan Guide - Full.

Section 1: Special abilities

When casting his skill, he uses a spear to dart forward, dealing damage to the enemies.

You can also use his skill in the air by jumping > skill > basic attack

You can release during his charged attack.

If you hold his charged attack, he will jump in the air and you can use basic attack to cause him to plunge down.

He has two ults. The first one is when you have low resolve. You will press his ult while he is on the ground and use basic attack repeatedly until the ult runs out.

His second ult can be casted when he has full resolve. You will want to jump in the air for this ult, then repeatedly do basic attacks until the ult runs out.

Section 2: Skills priorities

You will want to prioritize his resonance liberation, or his ult as this is where a majority of his damage comes from.

Forte Circuit

Resonance Skill

Intro Skill

Basic Attack

His resonance liberation and his forte circuit should be prioritized first, followed by the resonance skill. His intro skill and basic attack can be leveled up, but they do not make much of a difference in his gameplay.

Section 3: Rotation

First, use his resonance skill.

After activiating his skill, use his echo (which should be the Fellain Beringal)

Switch to one of the sub-dps, such as Mortefi and charge up that character's concerto energy.

After that character has full concerto energy, switch to Jiyan and he will perform his intro skill.

Use his resonance liberation/ult

Repeatedly do basic attacks until the ult is over.

Perform his outro skill by switching to the next character.

Repeat.

Section 4: Recommended sequences

While Jiyan is good at S0, having sequences for him can greatly improve his gameplay. However, his best sequences are 3, 5, and 6, so not very F2P friendly.

His 3rd sequence, Spectation, increases his crit rate and crit damage by 32% for 8s when he casts his intro skill, his resonance skill, or either of his ults.

His 5th sequence, Resoluton, increases the damage multiplier of his outro skill. When he hits an enemy target, his attack is increased by 3% for 8s and can be stacked up to 15 times.

His 6th sequence, Fortitude, basically gives him momentum that his high resolve ult consumes, dealing 120% more damage.

Section 5: Echo build

His best echo build is Sierra Gale x5 for extra aero damage bonus. His main echo should be Feilian Beringal. However, if you do not have a suitable option, he can also work with cyan-feather heron and hoochief.

His cost 4 echo should have a crit main stat (either one is fine, but crit rate is better if you don't have his main weapon)

His cost 3 echo should have aero damage bonus.

His cost 1 echoes should focus on atk%.

His substats should be prioritized by crit stats -> atk% -> heavy atk% damage -> energy recharge -> flat atk

Section 6: Weapons

Verdant Summit (his signature)

Ages of Harvest (Jinhsi signature)

Lustrous Razor (can be obtained from the level 45 weapon box)

Autumntrace (4 star)

Helios Cleaver (4 star)

Section 7: Teams

Jiyan -> Mortefi -> Verina

Jiyan -> Mortefi -> Baizhi

Jiyan -> Sanhua -> Baizhi

Jiyan -> Aalto -> Verina

[novantinuum]

Fandom: Steven Universe Rating: Teen Audiences Words: 4.2K~ Summary: Connie clenches her fists at her sides, envisioning a world where she still feels the safe, comforting weight of Rose’s sword strapped upon her back. But instead, it’s the Crystal Gems’ darkest, most forlorn hour... and she’s absolutely useless to them. Is there anything she can do to aid them in this struggle, anything at all? (Or: the beach fight in Reunited, but from Connie's POV.)

Woo, cleared another long-held WIP out of my drafts! I've always been very interested in what the beach fight was like beyond Steven's little mindscape adventure- and also, given her sword breaking, I thought Connie had a lot of potential mental angst to explore in that moment- thus this fic was born.

I highly recommend you read this one on AO3, it has some special formatting I cannot replicate on tumblr.

Enjoy!

___

It’s not that she hasn’t seen a sentient Gem poof before, but there’s something about the raw brutality by which Peridot’s form is torn asunder by Yellow's energy bolts that makes Connie feel outright sick to her stomach. She’s unable to bite back an alarmed yelp as she watches that green, triangular gemstone plummet into the sand, wholly inert.

(Ever the bold knight, Pearl strides in front of her and Lion, brandishing her spear in a wide-sweeping defensive stance.)

“Stop!!” Steven hollers, so loud and with such frenzied intensity that his voice breaks midway through the vowel. He darts forward to address the two Homeworld matriarchs directly, straying away from the safety of the rest of the group… away from the Crystal Gems, away from his dad, and away from her.

Her heart’s re-enacting a high tempo concerto in the confines of her chest, sweat beading at her brow as her mind grasps to understand what exactly he plans to achieve by pleading mercy from the two most powerful Gems they’ve ever faced while at such a strategic disadvantage. Peridot’s down, the house is wrecked, her sword’s been shattered, and worst of all, every last offensive effort they made against Blue alone only managed to knock her to her knees. Love him as she may… what impossible kindness is capable of standing against such ruthless might as this?

“Don’t do this!” he stubbornly continues anyways, and throws his hands in gesture towards his chest. “Listen to me— I’m the one you’re missing! I’m Pink Diamond!”

The militant monarch’s eyes narrow into thin, loathing slits the moment this claim (carrying almost unbelievable consequence, but true nonetheless) passes through his lips into stark reality.

“You…!” she seethes.

Yellow Diamond breaks into a terrifyingly swift sprint towards their party before any of the other Gems can shift even a finger to react.

Steven’s name urgently explodes from between Garnet’s lips, as if her split-second warning (much less a warning coming from someone who’s standing by the splintered wreckage of the house a good thirty feet away from him) would make any difference at all, as if any force in this universe— magical shield or not— could stop such a tremendous, terrifying presence from enacting her merciless judgement once it’s set in motion towards her mark.

The diamond’s foot plummets down upon the nigh-defenseless boy with the sheer unrepentant force of a freight train slipping off the rails.

Connie screams.

__

A boundless eternity passes within the depths of her soul, nestled in that vulnerable space between heartbeats. She watches the dust settle as she leaps off Lion's back, watches that cruel matriarch lift her heel from the massive crater she’s conceived. Still holding her breath as if a mere, misplaced huff of air could permanently shift the course of time in some brand new terrifying way, she locates Steven lying motionless in the sand. His suit jacket is scuffed and dirtied, and one of his arms is contorted in what— from her years of soaking up ambient anatomical knowledge through her mother’s stories about work— appears to be a wholly unnatural alignment.

(One of the Gems— she’s so distraught at this point that her mind is unable to process who— shouts his name, voice laced with an unfettered urgency. As expected, there’s no response.)

And then, with zero warning whatsoever, the waking world around her explodes into chaos.

Garnet bares her gauntlets against Yellow Diamond without even a second thought, shouting with a primal ferocity Connie’s never seen from her before. Pearl and Amethyst and all the rest of the Crystal Gems boldly follow her charge, weaving together their attacks in flawless devotion until practically operating as a single-minded organism. All in all, there’s simply too much happening to reliably follow. Spears, whips, and hammers clash against their towering foes to no success. And how could they? Compared to these diamonds, they’re nothing but fleas scurrying across the shore. They’re outmatched, fighting a battle that’s cursed to be lost. In the end, even the full splendor of the ocean’s might at Lapis’s beck and call fails to land a satisfying blow. Blinking back confused tears, she clenches her fists at her sides— harboring anger at herself (for ruining her weapon, stupid, stupid, stupid), at Steven (why on Earth did he voluntarily put himself in danger by trying to reason with them?), heck, at this whole damn galaxy— and envisions a world where she still feels the safe, comforting weight of Rose’s sword strapped upon her back.

But instead, it’s the Crystal Gems’ darkest, most forlorn hour... and she’s absolutely useless to them.

A strong palm lands on her shoulder, gentle yet urgent in its hold. With great reluctance, she pries her gaze away from the chaos of battle in the distance, the skin around her eyes dampened and puffy.

“Connie, w-we should go,” Mr. Universe says, his voice wavering with barely-contained grief. He glances beyond her for just a second, and she’s almost certain he’s looking at his son, his body crumpled in a broken heap in the sand at the heart of the battlefield. “I can’t let another one of you kids get hurt on my watch.”

He’s already reaching forward to grab her by the arm— too panicked by now to think about such fundamental things like politeness or personal space— when she makes her bold decision.

“No! I can’t leave yet!” she proclaims, brushing his hand away. “There’s still something I can do. And it may be stupid, and dangerous, b-but…” Connie wipes away a sudden wave of tears, matching eyes with her best friend’s dad. She flashes a watery smile. “It’s what he’d do for me, yeah?”

His expression surges with palpable dread as she turns her attention towards the fierce skirmish raging behind them.

“Wait… w-what—?”

She takes off running before he can even finish his question. In any other situation she might feel guilty for spurning his protective instincts— for leaving him in the dust, altogether anguished in his terror, shouting her name with an urgency that downright seizes at her pounding heart, begging her to not throw herself into the chaos of the field— but there’s no time to waste, not here, not ever, not when Steven’s very life may depend on the actions she takes now.

She has to pull him away from all this fighting before he gets crushed in the fray… or worse.

“Someone— cover me!” she cries out, nearing the front lines. Her foot collides with something hard and cold. She gasps, her glance snapping down in an instant. It’s a stray can of soda, unopened, something one of the party guests must’ve dropped while evacuating.

“I see you,” Garnet says, landing in a deep crouch near her. (It would not surprise her at all if the Gem already anticipated what she plans to do, seeing it as the most likely possibility amid a churning sea of choices.) She bares her gauntlets once more, and circles around. “Stay close, and be quick!”

“Connie!” she hears Mr. Universe wail from the sidelines.

She ignores him, though— she has to, least she let the final embers of her resolve be snuffed out by the sheer weight of her fear— and pushes her fragile human form through the thickets of this otherworldly battle anyways, following Garnet’s lead. ‘Cacophony’ is the only word she can think of that truly fits the harrowing scene ahead. There’s no more strategy in her friends’ strikes, no more clever battle formations… only their desperate, desperate defense against the wretched beings who created them. The Crystal Gems who are still standing thankfully seem to be holding their own… but just barely. Pearl’s losing momentum with each slice and slash of her spear, Amethyst and Lapis look like they’re halfway to abandoning all hope, poor Lion is tuckering out after such repetitive use of his concussive roars, and Bismuth’s filled with so much despairing fury towards their opponents (for the harm they’ve caused to this planet… for the harm they’ve just caused to Steven—!) that her footwork has grown rushed and sloppy. In the few seconds Connie’s watching her, the rainbow-haired Gem is almost hit by a direct bolt from Yellow Diamond twice.

Her chest seizes tight with dawning dread. This entire operation is falling apart. They don’t have much time left, do they? She must recover Steven, and fast!

Garnet keeps a watchful eye for any incoming projectiles as Connie skids to a screeching halt next to her friend’s comatose body lying limp in the sand. (And oh, has she never been more thankful to not see blood.) Okay. Okay. Here he is. Now all she’s gotta do is… ferry him to a safe distance. Steeling her core in preparation, she squats down and tries to leverage herself to scoop him right up. Her legs, though… in the midst of her terror, her legs are simply too wobbly to bear his mass, and after one valiant but failed attempt she’s scared she’ll hurt herself (or him!) trying again. Which means… she’ll just have to drag him.

“Sorry—!” she says with a faint hiss of regret as she grasps both of his arms by the wrist and starts to pull him across the battle-swept sands. Sure enough to her suspicions, one of his shoulders definitely doesn’t feel like it’s aligned in its socket right, and she worries that yanking him along like this will only serve to further exacerbate it. Still, what other choice does she have?

What choices do any of them have, all tangled up within the fallout of this thousand year war?

As Connie drags Steven off the battlefield towards his house, Garnet circles around the perimeter a few more times, ever-diligent in her role as lookout. She’s grateful for her help. Truly so. It allows her to focus her energy on protecting her best friend instead of constantly having to keep an eye out for stray attacks from the Diamonds. And boy, oh boy— she digs her heels into the sand, spent muscles all but screaming for her to rest, to drop her load and continue on alone— will her body need every last drop of energy she’s got. That’s why relief surges through her heart with all the ferocity of a tidal wave when Mr. Universe’s frantic voice comes into range once again. Because it means she’s here. She’s succeeded. She’s pulled him all the way to his father, halfway off the field.

The exhaustion hits immediately. Huffing for a lungful of air, she drops the half-Gem’s arms to the ground and collapses to her knees. For an extended moment, the unwanted melody of warfare rings through her ears like canon fire. She can’t move. She can’t even breathe properly. She can swear her friend’s dad is trying to say something to her— can feel his hesitant touch brushing against her shoulder in what barely counts as a whisper— but she can’t even manage to distinguish a single word. Her eyes brim with fresh tears, every last sensory input overloaded. It’s all too loud. It’s all too damn heavy. It’s all too—

“Connie,” Garnet slices through the static with astute authority.

She snaps her head up, her eyes flitting between the Crystal Gem leader (currently kneeling at her side) and a still panicking Mr. Universe (clutching his unconscious son’s hand). Her breath settles, slowly but surely. Her fingers twitch, tracing shallow patterns in the sand. The ringing lessens.

“Thank you,” the Gem continues, pushing herself back to her full height. The long skirt of her wedding outfit flares behind her as she glances back towards the chaos of the battle. “For protecting him where I couldn’t. Now stay back, and keep watch. If they poof all of us, promise me you’ll evacuate the beach.”

“I-I… of course,” Connie says, her gaze still wet with terror and barely contained grief. “But y-you… you don’t really think you’ll—?”

Lose, is the word she can’t bring herself to say. Surely you don’t think you’ll lose?

The Gem warrior gives a sharp, almost defeated exhale before grinding her fists within the tempered hard-light of her gauntlets and leaping right back into the fray.

Connie cries out after her, suddenly stricken with a churning feeling of dread (what grim futures did Garnet just witness?) as she scrambles to her feet, arms outstretched towards a self-appointed destiny she can no longer reach. A strangled sob wrests control of her body. If she still had her weapon they wouldn’t be asking her to stay at the sidelines. She’s nothing to them anymore, is she? She’s nothing without that sword. If she closes her eyes she swears she can still feel it… can still feel the perfectly countered weight of its thorn etched handle within her grip… but with it shattered, she’s completely useless out here. Feeble. Organic.

Weak.

“Connie,” her friend’s dad pleads for her attention, his tone warbling with all the wavering emotion of an out of tune guitar. “Connie, please! She’s right. You know she’s right. We have to get off the beach! There’s literally nothing we can do against Gems as powerful as that, we’re just humans.”

Slowly, the last of his words reverberating within her mind, her eyes widen.

“But he’s not,” she breathes, turning her head towards her friend’s still body on the ground.

“W-what are you—?”

She grasps his hand within her own like it’s their final lifeline, gently tracing her thumb along the back of his knuckles. If anyone could swerve the dangerous wake of this conflict into something better, it’s Steven. He’s certainly managed the impossible before.

“Steven!” she calls, her brows threading together in the wake of her thunderous desperation. “Come on, please wake up!”

Hot, messy tears threatening to cloud the edges of her vision, she lets go of his hand. Glances back towards the battlefield. The remaining Crystal Gems aren’t faring well in their war right now. Pearl and Amethyst appear exhausted enough to collapse at any moment, and the Diamonds have pushed the other three to the very extremes of their defensive capabilities. If they have any chance left of winning this encounter, it’s gonna require a miracle of encouragement.

“Come on, Steven,” she calls again, voice dripping with the burden of her pending despair. “We need you.”

No response, yet again.

Her breath ripples through her chest. He… oh stars, is he not healing? From what he’s described in the past about his healing powers, she’s surprised he hasn’t leapt back to his feet with newly restored vigor already. She leans forward, pressing her ear to his chest to listen for a heartbeat.

A harsh shriek ringing from across the sands interrupts her investigation, however— and Connie spins her gaze around just in time to watch Yellow Diamond strike down Lapis Lazuli with a fierce bolt of destabilizing energy right to her chest.

She swallows, already sensing their options eroding away at the wrathful whim of the tides.

Time is truly of the essence here, and much like an hourglass theirs is mighty limited in this state.

Connie stands to her feet once more. With him showing zero signs of pending consciousness, it’s growing harder and harder to ignore Mr. Universe’s intensifying plea for her to leave the battlefield.

“Wake up, please!” she cries, a pitiful final appeal before her inevitable shame-filled retreat.

Her lips screw shut amid her sheer heartbreak, fists clenching at her sides as she silently gapes at her friend’s pale, expressionless face.

We’re supposed to be in this together, remember?

And then…

Connie’s eyes blow wide, her entire body shuddering as she senses a familiar presence dance along the very fringes of her mind like stray raindrops splashing against her cheeks on a late spring day— a wholly recognized sensation, but not an overwhelming one. She gasps. The presence carries with it an instant aura of comfort and affection, as well as a hundred billion panicked questions like ‘what happened’ and ‘where am I’ and by golly, it’s the exact same subtle presence she’s aware of at the very periphery of their mind whenever she’s fused with him as Stevonnie.

“Huh? Steven?”

Her heart’s practically rattling within her rib cage as she feels that ghostly presence flutter within her thoughts once again, speaking in his voice, calling out to her by name.

“Connie, it’s me!”

Holy stars. It’s him. It’s actually him.

She doesn’t know how, but it is.

Her brows shoot up within her lingering confusion. Even though she’s well aware that this is a Gem thing, she’s unable to fully fight off the impulse to search around as if some conscious, flesh-and-blood Steven were somehow standing right next to her, whispering directly in her ear. “Wha- Where are you? How are you do—?”

“I’m not sure, but… I think it’s a classic psychic ghost type situation.”

“Ah, of course!” she exclaims, peering down at his motionless form. She’s heard all sorts of madcap tales about his astral projection powers— about how he used them to speak to Lapis through his dreams when she was stuck fighting for control of Malachite under a mile of ocean, or to drive the body of one of the watermelons he brought to life, or to make mental contact with the Cluster like he did not too long ago— thus it makes sense for this new mode of communication to be some sort of natural extension of that. “So, what’s the plan?”

“The Diamonds won’t listen to me out there, but… maybe I can get through to them here. They’ve gotta know Pink Diamond wasn’t shattered.”

There’s a brief, meek pause before he makes his final request.

“Please protect my body while I’m gone.”

“Got it! Good luck out there, Steven.”

His active presence fades from her mind like the setting sun over the cloudy horizon, taking that comforting aura right along with it. Connie’s form all but deflates as she exhales, her shoulders curling inwards as she wraps her arms around her torso and tries her best to keep whatever remains of her brave facade from cracking in two. Mr. Universe gawks at her, his attention clearly piqued by her conversational mention of his son.

“Wh—” his countenance is pale and streaked with fresh, messy tears, swirling with a conflicting mixture of grief and last-ditch hope— “h-how were you talking to—?”

“He’s okay,” she blurts out, her own voice quavering at the edges as the reassuring realities of this fact wash over her like a cleansing shower on a muggy summer’s day, a blissful salve to her previous strife. “I promise you, he’s okay. He… I think he’s trying to make contact with the Diamonds, like he did with the Cluster.”

His father closes his eyes for a moment and inhales deep and strong, steeling his nerves as he basks in the reassurance of this news. Then, rolling his shoulder back and standing at the ready: “Well, what can we do to help, then?”

“Keep him safe while he tries to work his magic, I guess. Listen, we gotta pull him further back so he’s out of striking distance.”

He issues her a swift nod. “Leave it to me.”

And after all her struggles she must admit she’s kinda jealous at the sheer ease at which he scoops Steven up in his arms, but, well… fair is fair. He’s clearly had fourteen years of practice on that front. The two of them turn tail and run towards what remains of the house, barricading themselves against the foot of the stairs. Connie doesn’t take a full breath until they’re out of range of the worst of it. She helps Mr. Universe set her friend down in the sand, and now that she’s calmed down a little, sets her attention to giving him a full once-over. And thank the stars, his chest is visibly rising and falling now.

Biting down upon her bottom lip amidst her rippling anxieties— sorry, Steven, this has to be checked— she reaches to untuck his dress shirt. A true miracle after the ruthless velocity of the hit he took, his gem is unblemished. No cracks at all, not even a tiny chip. So that means he should be fine, yes? His body’s just conserving energy to heal from the impact? It’s hard to pin down any precise points of improvement, but she swears a little bit more color has returned to his cheeks these past few minutes.

She also swears that the rest of the remaining Crystal Gems must have had a psychic encounter with Steven too, because there’s a tangible surge of renewed vigor that’s taken the front lines by storm. Garnet throws her punches a hair harder. Pearl swings her trident with just a tinge more finesse. Amethyst and Bismuth aren’t holding back their strikes in lieu of focusing on self defense quite as much. Not only that, but the Diamonds almost seem more distracted now, more vulnerable to their coordinated group attacks. (Is this Steven’s doing, she wonders? Has he found a way to weaken them from within whatever weird psychic mindscape his untethered spirit is drifting within?)

But no matter the underlying reason, the evidence surging to life upon this beach is undeniable: slowly but surely, despite every flagrant disadvantage they hold, the tides of this struggle are turning towards their favor.

“I think he’s doing it,” she marvels to Steven’s equally as mystified father, the pair crouched right next to the boy. “I don’t know how, but somehow he’s wearing them dow—”

And then she’s blinded.

Stripped of all coherent thought or word or rhyme.

Helpless of anything beyond peering through narrowed slits with her flattened palm shielding her view as the entire beach is engulfed with a pulse of magnificent pink light.

But no, no… it’s far more than just light. Her encounters with fusion can tell her that much.

It’s a song. A symphony. An entire story told in oscillating waves of light and sound that her organic body isn’t remotely equipped to process the fullest gamut of.

Sucking in a shaky bout of air, Connie tilts her sight to her periphery to follow the light to its source. And in her joy, her heart nearly skips a beat at what she finds. His body may still lie comatose upon these course sands, healing from an impact that surely would’ve killed a less stubborn soul, but Steven’s gem is glowing as bright as a miniature sun. Any lingering signs of injury heal in an instant as this potent aura radiates from his core.

Clear on the other side of the battlefield, the Diamonds are drawn to their knees in awe of this power. Blue falls into hysterics, sobbing an ocean’s worth of tears into her hands… and Yellow— uncharacteristically still and silent— seems so shell shocked by the revelation that she can’t summon even a word of doubt in retaliation.

When Steven’s bold display of might finally fades, there’s zero quarrel on who this struggle’s victors are. Their attackers make no moves to re-engage, and the Crystal Gems remaining sprint across the shore to help each other to their feet. She… stars, she can hardly believe it. They won. Even with half of their company down for the count— two poofed, Steven unconscious, and her shamefully stripped of her sword— they managed the impossible: they held the line against two of Homeworld’s most ruthless matriarchs and survived.

Of course, their battle isn’t quite over. Steven has yet to wake up.

Greg hollers out for Garnet and the others, alerting the lot to their position. They waste no time in hurrying towards the house to congregate around them. All the while, she clutches his hand within a vice tight grasp, running her thumb along the back of his palm, hoping… begging… no, yearning for him to be okay. He has to be okay— right?

“Show her to me,” Blue demands, her tone soaked in stalled grief as she hovers over them with all the lingering dread of a bad omen. “I must see her gem with my own eyes.”

“Bismuth,” Garnet warns as the Gem in question moves to shield him with her body. “Let them through.”

Her eyes flare with abject turmoil. “B-but how can you be sure any of this is—”

“Let them through,” she repeats, propping a gemstone laden hand upon her shoulder. “The battle is over. They have no desire to hurt him now.” Then, directed at her specifically: “And give him space, he’s about to wake up.”

Connie swallows hard— a part of her unwilling to let him out of her immediate care given the daunting uncertainty of these circumstances— but then again, Garnet’s not the kind of Gem to knowingly lead them astray. Despite her own tumultuous feelings on the matter, if she says they’re safe, then they’re safe. After all, they won. She won. Despite every last insidious variable working against her— a broken sword, spine-tingling terror, her lack of strength— she served her purpose. She, a mere human, proved her worth on this battlefield of Gems. Drawing in a deep breath of air, she drops her friend’s hand and pulls back with the others.

Sure enough, he’s starting to come back to them, his chest rising and falling with greater frequency and his features scrunching inwards on his face.

Steven’s eyes flutter open, his whole body jolting as he drinks in the unlikely picture of the scene before him… family, friends, and enemies alike clustered together upon the beach they were fighting upon just mere minutes ago… all gawking at him in slack jawed wonder.

“It’s you…!” Blue Diamond breathes in sheer disbelief. “Pink!”

[devoraqs]

Duet (Concerto Re Maggiore)

Pairing: Ilyacha (Julian/Alexander)

Word count: 2.1k

Summary: Alexander by his own admission is more magician than musician, but a chance meeting with a handsome vielle-wielding sailor in Venterre leads to quite a special performance indeed.

—

Over the hubbub of a crowded marketplace floated the glassy, sweet timbre of harp strings, glittering and filtering through the noise like the sunbeams that streamed through the trellises and awnings of the surrounding shops. Alexander was decidedly a bit out of practice when it came to playing in public, musical showmanship was not something that had ever come particularly easily to him, but he was stuck in this city (Sableblanc-sur-Mer, he reminded himself, a port on the eastern coast of Venterre) overnight while waiting for the next ship across the Golden Gulf and back to Zadith. Stuck here, with only a satchel full of books and his old knee harp. The books had long since been read, and reread, cover to cover, and so he had turned instead to the instrument.

He had found himself a shaded little alcove a ways off from a cluster of cafés and wine shops, propping himself against the wall with the harp a surprisingly comforting weight across his lap. Slowly, methodically, he picked at the strings. His fingers were stilted, the rhythm of scales and arpeggios retained through muscle memory disjointed and staccato from lack of attention. His brows knit at a wrong note here, his lower lip set at a pout at a clumsy run there. Halfway through a passage he noticed a few people watching, he completely slipped his fingering and an accidental sounded with a calamitous twang.

Glowering, he quickly stoppered the strings before the duff note could travel too far, and refrained from doing anything until the onlookers had lost interest and melted back into the masses.

How annoying it was, knowing that he could only get better through practice and any natural talent within him had run its course. Practice would make perfect, he knew that much from years of perfecting magic work, experiments, but it was this practice that he never really found time for, admittedly.

Not that that had stopped him ever enjoying the actual act of music making, it was something different from spellwork and science and swordplay, something to get lost in. He flexed his hands, righted his position, and strummed a few glissandi from the thicker, rumbling lower strings to the thin twinkling high register. He tried an arpeggio, a run of a short melody from a half remembered song.

Neglect of practice aside, a decade and some of musicianship had set a certain dexterity in him, in his hands, that bit by bit began to flow with each pluck of string. It was not wholly unlike the weaving of a spell, learned precision slowly becoming familiar til in a breath it is second nature.

Alexander wove this spell, became blissfully lost at last, and played.

The notes dropped through the air like beads of crystalline water into a pond. He still hit a few wrong notes, forgot to change a lever, misplaced his fingering, but it didn’t matter. He found he could ignore the crowded square, ignore any eyes and ears that had turned his way. He went on whatever whim swayed him, flitting from the Nalban and Cumbran folksongs he’d grown up with, to new Vesuvian concerti, to snatches of street songs he’d heard over in Zadith and here in Venterre, and all the way back round again.

Halfway through the energetic last movement of a concerto, his reverie was broken.

“Is that Albiviozza’s violin concerto?”

Alexander jumped, his hands twitched and fumbled, and clumsily tangled in the strings with a discordant clatter.

Gods strike it all.

“It was,” he muttered indignantly, his frown cutting a deep, displeased line into his forehead.

He looked up to where the accosting voice had come from. There was a man standing there, a little older perhaps than Alexander himself, clad in well worn travelling garb that Alexander could just about place as being mostly from the salt flats near the southern sea, but with an eclectic mix of other clothes and accessories from around the world piled on top of the patterned cloth, all coated with a layer dust and sea-fresh salt. His curly auburn hair flowed loose and long, perhaps a touch longer than Alexander’s own unruly mane scraped into a ponytail, and across his broad shoulders was slung a slightly battered-looking case of some sort.

“So sorry, my good fellow,” the man continued brightly, “didn’t mean to disturb you,”

“I’m sure.”

“But it’s a magnificent concerto, and it’s good to hear it played with such gusto.”

Alexander glanced him up and down quizzically; he seemed to be genuine. There was something just so about the man’s easy smile, the twinkle in his grey eyes, the warm joviality in his tone that made Alexander’s ire, and the cleft between his brows, dissipate.

“Thank you,” he said, “it’s a favourite of mine, especially that last movement, with the call and response passage towards the end. I can’t quite do it justice on my own, I’ll admit, I’m not a proper musician and it’s not meant to be for harp at all, let alone a little knee harp like this-” he cut himself off before his tongue could run away with him into a tirade of nervous babble, “uh. Um. Anyway, yes. Thank you. Again.”

The man tilted his head,

“You know, I know the movement well too. Back of my hand, from memory. I wonder,” he shrugged the case off his back, “may I play with you?”

Alexander eyed the case, eyed the man, eyed his own fidgeting fingers that were itching to play more. The stranger’s enthusiasm was infectious,

“Alright then.”

His grin was radiant as the midday sun.

He made quick work of setting the case down and flipping the latches open. Inside was a large, old-looking, yet clearly lovingly well maintained string instrument. There was a pattern in the wood, carved delicately into the body and the five pegs that adorned the headscroll. It was a vielle. With a flourish, the man lifted the instrument under his chin and produced a sleek, arcing bow from the case. Alexander watched as, with practised ease, he briskly tuned each string. Even with those simple open strings, Alexander couldn’t help but marvel at the rich sound. It suited the man, he thought, it matched the vibrancy and timbre of his voice. The deep russet wood complemented his hair, too, as did the bold curves of the body of the instrument to the wide set of the man’s shoulders, the strong, flowing lines of his arms and Alexander was suddenly, painfully aware that he was staring, so dropped his eyes quickly back to his own strings to reset the levers.

“Re maggiore, yes?” the man asked. Alexander nodded.

A moment of eye contact, an unspoken connection. A shared breath in, a preparation. Fingers poised over strings, twitching around the heel of a bow. Exhale.

Then, in perfect tandem, the downbeat.

The last movement of Leonato Albiviozza’s Concerto in Re Maggiore per Violino e Orchestra was vivace, lively. It pulsed with energy from the first quaver, a furious yet triumphant arpeggiated run with an energetic basso continuo line that drove the action forward. The true, full orchestration here would have featured a cembalo and theorbo filling out the depths of that bass, and the rest of the string family assembled to provide strength and texture with a solo violin soaring over the top. Alexander had heard it performed once in some concert hall in Vesuvia, it had been thrilling.

Notably, there was no provision for a Cumbran knee harp and a vielle, and yet the arrangement of this impromptu performance worked. The glistening thrum of harpstring and the rich voice of the vielle blended seamlessly as Alexander took on the continuo and accompaniment while the stranger flew through the solo line.

Alexander had not played in ensemble for a good long while, let alone experienced the trust and nigh intimacy needed for a duet, but he didn’t feel any apprehension, any hesitation. He’d never met this man before, he didn’t even know his name, yet they had found an instant synergy through this music. It was as though there was a thread formed of silvergold starlight and heartstring linking them from hearts and lungs and minds, like it was their souls in wordless conversation alongside their instruments. When one of them coloured a phrase, the other was able to pick up on it in an instant, their articulation was synchronised, reciprocal push-pull, give and take. Each little cue, each little detail.

It was truly playing together, rather than merely two people playing the same piece at the same time. With a deal of hindsight Alexander might have chastised himself as being too fanciful, overly invested in random streetside busking with a complete stranger. But in the moment he gave little regard to the logic of that reasoning, there was no room for it amidst the music.

The man’s thick brows were arched in concentration, similarly to how Alexander’s own must be, yet his face was the picture of determination and of the joy of sheer relishing the sound, the connection, the all-encompassing feeling of shared musicality. Wordlessly, Alexander shared in that joy too, the ostinato of his pounding heartbeat a further addition to Albiviozzi’s score, one that could only be felt rather than heard; he didn’t know it but the stranger’s racing pulse was a perfect match, feeling each striking drumbeat reverberate through his own veins.

They had attracted a small audience of passersby and cafe patrons, intrigued by the sound. Street performers were commonplace in big port cities like this, there was usually a handful littered around a street corner, but the gusto with which the two ad hoc buskers were playing and the sparkling, wordless rapport that was flying between them seemed to reel people in. As loath as Alexander usually was to have an audience, he found he rather didn’t mind this time, any doubt or self-consciousness had long been eclipsed by concentration on the music. The music, and the man he was playing it with.

They had by now reached the section that Alexander had mentioned previously, where the soloist and accompanist played antiphonally. But here, with two people, it had become less of a ‘call and response’ and more a conversation. A declaration. Two voices speaking to each other through melody. It wasn’t especially technically tricky, but what got lost when trying to play solo was the intent, the colour, the nuance. The stranger played the call phrase, a vigorous major ascending scale that sprung into an arpeggio,

We’re nearly at the end now, what a triumph,

And Alexander the response, an answering run of arpeggios tumbling down his strings and back up again,

We play well together,

Then the two phrases joined together in polyphony, circling each other like partners on a dancefloor, whirling joyously until they hit the final phrase. Alexander felt his actual partner’s rallentando like it were his own breath, his own thought, and in deliberate tandem, they hit the final, perfect cadence.

A flicker of silence. A pause, a spell.

Then, a burst of applause. Alexander breathed out a heavy, satisfied sigh. He caught the man’s eye and smiled. The man’s face had gone a touch red from exertion, but he returned Alexander’s grin roguishly, before throwing his head back and laughing,

“Now, it’s not every day you get to do that.”

“Definitely not.”

The crowd began to disperse, a handful congratulated them on a job well done for which Alexander, now once again very self aware, sheepishly thanked them. His partner basked in the praise,

“And would you believe it, I’ve known this fellow all of twenty minutes!”

Alexander’s cheeks flushed hot, and he dipped his head to try and hide it. Then, they were left alone, cloaked by the hustle and bustle of the city around them.

“Well then,” the man said exuberantly, stretching his shoulders out, “I have to say, my friend, we make quite the team.”

Alexander quirked his lips,

“I’d have to agree. And… well, thank you for asking me to play.”

“Thank you for obliging. Though I did think at first, from the look on your face, you were going to tell me to piss off.”

“Well… I did consider it. But when else will a stranger be so brazen as to ask me to play a violin concerto in broad daylight with a fiddle and a harp?”

“When indeed,” he said, cocking an eyebrow and holding out his hand, “Julian.”

Alexander shook it, warm and calloused and still brimming with energy,

“Alexander. You know… in all seriousness, I haven’t played like that in a while. It was good. We play well together.”

The man smiled again, different now, taking in the details of Alexander’s face and lingering on his eyes, his mouth,

“We do.”

A few people had flipped some gold pieces into the open vielle case; Julian eyed them, then flicked his gaze back up to Alexander’s, eyes lidded and shapely lips teased upward into a knowing smile,

“Perhaps, Alexander, I might buy you a drink with our spoils?”

[kata4a]

The Satins, anxious about his well-being, persuaded [Rachmaninoff] to visit Nikolai Dahl, a neurologist who specialized in hypnosis, with whom they had a good experience. Desperate, he agreed without hesitation. From January to April 1900, he visited him daily free of charge. Dahl restored Rachmaninoff's health and his confidence to compose. Himself a musician, Dahl engaged in lengthy conversations surrounding music with Rachmaninoff, and would repeat a triptych formula while the composer was half-asleep: "You will begin to write your concerto ... You will work with great facility ... The concerto will be of an excellent quality".

On the eve of the concert, Rachmaninoff caught a cold, prompting his friends and relatives to stuff him with remedies, filling him with an excess of mulled wine;

rachmaninoff @spiralrapt moments

[elesdecroisa]

Briar - Perpetual Concerto | Journey Unfolds (kind of)

Sometimes, you would hear mysterious violin sounds at night. The violin sounds are hauntingly beautiful, and it has attracted many to try and find its source, to no avail. The one playing the violin at night is nobody else but Briar - a Graveborn who looked like a teenage girl, but her skills say otherwise. Today, let us delve into the story of Briar and find out more about her!

A Fatal Mistake

Briar was once a daughter of a small noble family, and led a pretty peaceful life. In the year of her birth, the wild rose bushes growing outside her house bloomed so vibrantly, that her parents decided to name her Briar - meaning “Thorny bush of wild roses”.

Briar grew up without having any special talents for anything - but she made up for it by being well-behaved and extremely hardworking. She, however, still had a favorite thing to do, and that was to play the violin. She dreamed of being the greatest violinist ever, and worked extra hard to pursue her dream, knowing that she must use her effort to replace the talent that she never had. But her relentless pursuit of improvement had led herself to her own demise - she was so indulged in her violin practice that she forgot to eat or drink, and then finally collapsed to the ground from exhaustion. 

Instead of leaving this world, however, Briar returned as a Graveborn. Nobody knew how this happened, even Briar herself. At first, she thought it was a miracle that she returned, but as she witnessed the death of her loved ones while she remained unchanging after years, she finally acknowledged that she had gotten the curse of immortality. Being a person who believed firmly that all actions have consequences, to Briar, this was the price she had to pay, for she could have prevented such a foolish mistake from taking her life, as it was something she had complete control of.

The Life After Immortality

Later on, Briar learned to accept her fate, and finally got used to her Graveborn identity. She still does things she loved when she was alive, and takes up other hobbies and habits too, to make use of her endless available time.

Even as a Graveborn, Briar never gave up on her passion. She practiced the violin almost everyday, slowly honing her skills over the years. Even though the progress was slow, she still kept going. Hard work finally paid off, and now her violin skills have reached a peak that few mortals could compare to. But sometimes, she would still lament about how she would never be able to perform on stage like she used to dream about anymore. 

Briar also learned magic over the span of years, and she has mastered a few spells, some of them have been modified by her so that she could cast them just by playing on her violin, which was also infused with her own magic for the sake of being a catalyst to her spells. Her most signature modified spell is a teleportation spell that turns her into a flurry of rose petals before transporting her away, leaving a few fleeting petals on the ground.

The night sky is now Briar’s stage and audience, as she developed a habit of playing the violin outside at night. She would teleport away the moment someone of other factions came near her radius, and remained a mysterious legend for years. Once in a while, she would encounter other Graveborns outside, and she would not be afraid to perform for them, given that they wish to hear her play.

Briar keeps a lot of rose bushes of all colors in her garden as a tribute to her long deceased parents, who loved roses during their lifetime. She adorns her hair, her outfit and even her violin with white roses that she picked from the garden then preserved with magic.

Briar’s Skills

As a Graveborn Mage, all of Briar’s skills are spells that she had modified so that she could cast them using her trusted violin. Her musical-imbued skills can deal damage, buff her allies, as well as weaken enemies. Let’s find out more about them!

Crescendo of Petals

When Briar’s Ultimate, Crescendo of Petals, is cast, she starts playing a song on her violin, buffing her allies’ Attack and allowing their debuffs to last longer, as well as reducing enemies’ Attack Speed and dealing damage per second to them. Even though she cannot use normal attacks nor cast active skills during this duration, she remains Unaffected, allowing the song to play until the end.

This skill can enable the team to turn the tide of the battle to their advantage, and is extra useful when the team has many allies who focus on debuffing and controlling enemies.

Sul Ponticello

Inspired by the violin technique with the same name that creates glassy and eerie sounds by playing near or even on the bridge of the violin, Briar casts this skill on an enemy and inflicts a debuff on them, allowing her allies to gain DEF Penetration against this target for some time.

This skill helps her team to quickly focus the fire against an enemy, finishing them off quickly.

Vibrato Surge

When this skill is cast, Briar deals damage to an enemy and adjacent enemies around them, immobilizing them on cast. 

This skill can be useful for allies with crowd control-focused skills, as well as for interrupting enemies’ actions.

Shadows’ Requiem

Once Briar unlocks this exclusive skill, she will enhance herself even further upon casting Crescendo of Petals. During the duration, she now has the ability to assist other allied Graveborn heroes, dealing extra damage alongside them as they attack. If this skill is upgraded further, she can even assist heroes of other factions too, but the effect won’t be as powerful as with Graveborn heroes.

Ending Remarks

With her enchanting music, Briar hopes to alleviate the pain of the sufferers, giving them a moment of solace. Anyone who got the chance to hear her music will be left with a deep impression for the rest of their lives.

[p5x-theories]

What We Know About Wind

(last updated 11/30/24!)

Riko Tanemura, codename Wind, is a third-year member of the disciplinary committee at Kokatsu Academy, and the rich heiress to a plum company.

Riko picks the codename "Wind" after being told her codename should be something incredible/wondrous, and she thinks of how she's always found it strange that the character for "wind" is used in the word "disciplinary committee". She also connects it to wanting to be a tailwind for her allies and a headwind for her enemies.

Her Japanese voice actress is Atsumi Tanezaki.

In the story so far, we see her at school, as a student who mainly appears in scenes to remind other students of the rules. She and Motoha seem to be at least a bit familiar with each other, and there seem to be some girls at school who even are fans of Riko's and find her cool.

Future story information about her has been translated as:

"As the discipline committee member, Riko Tanemura helps the school manage the lives of students, which has become a very important part under the new policy. Riko-senpai is smart and knowledgeable. As a member of the discipline committee, she will make rational judgments when facing radical campus reform policies. Facing her own problems, she will definitely be able to make better changes through meeting the protagonist and his party. When she faces the struggle to break the rules that constrain her, it is the second movement of the Concerto of the Rule Breakers!"

She was also listed as a Confidant in the first beta (but it was locked), and was present in photo mode in the third beta. The third beta trailer shows her talking to Wonder in a scene that has not yet been present in-game. She also had a special animated promo video focused on her.

While little has been seen of her at the moment, she seems to at least outwardly present as a calm, reserved student. She encourages Wonder to speak up, but also complains that students have been acting more selfishly lately. She's mentioned to be the head of the student disciplinary committee, so she helps uphold the rules at Kokatsu. The school's dean frequently pushes administrative work and other duties onto her, but she takes care of it all without complaint, solely focused on preparing for her future career when she eventually inherits UMETANE from her father.

Her Persona awakening reveals that her strict sense of duty is actually tied to a desire to be loved genuinely. From a young age, it was impressed upon her in various ways that she'd only ever be loved superficially, and only if she excelled at tasks and stayed useful. She repressed the part of herself that sought genuine care and affection from others, and became closed-off and clinical, viewing the world with the assumption that everyone was only keeping her around if she could be of use, and always had ulterior motives for getting close to her.

Seeing Shadow Katayama's genuine, desperate care for her students, and specifically for Riko's wellbeing even as it was killing her, helped her to realize what she really desires out of human interactions: she wants to believe people can actually love her for herself, without wanting something from her. Seeing Shadow Katayama be used the way Riko always lets herself be used in the real world, she became determined to break out of the circumstances she'd created for herself, and focus on the people who honestly love her, like Ms. Katayama.

Later, she shows a distinct determination to steal Ms. Katayama's heart, to the point that she outright tells the real-world Katayama that she'll do so, inadvertently leading to her Treasure materializing before the Phantom Thieves have even secured an infiltration route. Riko is officially recruited to the team after this conversation (before they'd realized the consequences), and given the role of tactical advisor on the team. When fighting Shadow Katayama, she shows an unprecedented fury at Shadow Akashi (perhaps Akashi in general) for the way he treats her, and does everything she can to help prevent the real Katayama's death due to this treatment.

When they have to leave Katayama's Treasure behind, Riko promises she'll come back for it, and quickly begins to formulate a plan for how to trap Akashi so they can steal his Treasure.

Promotional information about her has been translated as:

"The surname Tanemura is spread in the ancient Wakayama Prefecture, a family closely related to “plum”. The phantom thief costume extracts the design inspiration of the “miko costume”, supplemented by the design concept of “plum blossom”."

Given she's paired with Makoto for their P5 Collab sticker (pictured above), and is the next teammate to join, it seems very likely her role will parallel Makoto's.

Her Persona is Chiyome (based on a famous female ninja), and functions as a navigator. While she’s summoned, Wind sits on a swing hanging below her, while Chiyome herself soars through the sky.

Chiyome is an Elucidation Persona, the designation used for navigators, and her trait gives the enemy with the highest level of Guard a "Vulnerability" after every three teammate actions. A Vulnerability increases the enemy's damage taken from the next attack to hit them, but then is destroyed; when destroyed, Wind receives two pieces of "Intelligence". If the attack hits a weakness, or even does normal damage (i.e., is not resisted, absorbed, or reflected), their Guard will be reduced by an extra level, and every time an enemy's Guard is reduced by a level in this way, Wind gains an additional piece of Intelligence. She has three support skills, which have cooldowns to use, but can be called in at will otherwise: the first reduces the defense of all enemies for two rounds (based on Wind's own speed stat), and gives one enemy a Vulnerability; the second increases the damage taken by all enemies for two rounds, and every time a teammate reduces an enemy's Guard, or knocks them down, this skill's cooldown is reduced by 1 turn (and can trigger automatically when the cooldown reaches 0); and the third requires at least 5 Intelligence to use, and consume all Intelligence to give all teammates "Unyielding Bravery" (buffs damage caused, moreso the more Intelligence is consumed) for one round, and restores one teammate's health.

Her passive skills buff the team's stats, buff the team's health + attack + defense stats at the start of combat based on Wind's speed stat, and buff One More and All Out Attack damage dealt by the team.

While she doesn’t strictly have a melee or ranged weapon as a navigator, P5X does have tools that the navigators use for their abilities, also obtained through the weapon gacha, and hers are parasols.

Her recommended card sets are 1) 4 of Coins (Power) + Page of Coins (Growth).

The game recommends teaming her up with 1) Joker.

A Summer version of Riko appears in the Summer event. Her design concept art:

[mozartbachtoven]

Photo Above: Mozart’s Violin

Photo Below: Mozart’s Viola

The violin is more or less in its original state. It was built in Mittenwald, a community located 60 miles south of Munich, along an important trade route to Italy. It established itself as a very important center of violin making in the final decades of the 18th-century. The Mozart concert violin was most likely built by a member of the violin-making family Klotz, and was built in 1700 or a bit later. The Mozarteum Foundation bought it in 1956, ten years before we bought the viola. The violin is really a remarkable document of what Mozart understood of the violin sound—[it] really gives a big picture and a very good impression of how he felt the sound and how he heard it. It’s really in a very good and original condition.

These instruments give us a good idea of what sound Mozart himself had in mind when writing, let's say, his violin concertos and Sinfonia Concertante. There were no loud, romantic sounds: Everything was incredibly intimate. For one, because the instruments were small and strung with gut strings, and for two, Mozart would not have played in large halls, ironically, where many performances of his music are being played today. Actually, *Mozart refused to perform on his violin in public at all, which might have been due to his not practicing the instrument, which his dad scolded him in letters for. He premiered his Sinfonia Concertante on viola*

The earliest evidence for the violin is a certificate by Marie Trestl from August 1842, stating that the instrument had been acquired by her father, Leopold Trestl in 1820 from Mozart’s sister, Nannerl Mozart. Around 1879 the instrument was in the personal possession of Adalbert Lenk—he was a violin professor at the Mozarteumand the violin remained in private possession until it was acquired by the Mozarteum Foundation in 1956—we bought it from the family of Josef Brandner. The fact that the instrument was not modernized in the 19th century makes it clear that it was regarded as a relic early on. So it is really in a very very good shape. And if you come to the Boston Early Music Festival where we will present the instruments, we will have a baroque violinist, Amandine Beyer, and you really can hear it in a fantastic situation, in a trio, and it gives a great impression of the sound of Mozart’s time.

These instruments get us much closer to hearing what Mozart himself had in his head when he was composing, though until somebody invents a time machine, that's about as far as we are going to get.

Maybe a working flux capacitor is somewhere in the near future ..👨‍🔬?

The viola has a remarkably warm tone, but has probably lost some of its former volume as a result of the adaptation of its size, but it’s a really very nice-sounding instrument. It was reduced to standard size during the 19th-century by cutting off the margins of the top and back considerably. It is assumed that the instrument originally was at least 13mm longer. At the same time, the original scroll was replaced by a new one taken from a German or Austrian instrument.

Hear Mozart’s instruments played here 👇

Live in concert in the WGBH Fraser

Performance Studio, violinist Daniel Stepner and violist Anne Black get a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to perform a work by Mozart on instruments that the composer himself owned and played. From Classical New England's "Mozart Comes to America" special, produced in conjunction with the Salzburg Mozarteum Foundation (owner of the instruments) and the Boston Early Music Festival, Stepner and Black play the Finale of the Duo in G, K. 423, by Mozart.

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