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randomactuallywrites-57 · 6 years ago

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Origin

Title: Origin Author: randomwriter57 Rating: G Word Count: 9,961 Event + Prompt: @sormikweek day three - Fear/Excitement (Wind) Notes: i love miraculous ladybug. i love superhero AUs. please don't judge me. you shouldn't need to have seen the show to understand this oneshot, but please let me know if anything is unclear! also feel free to come and yell with me about this AU because i love it a lot.

Summary: There is such thing as magic - both the good kind, and the bad.

Also on: AO3

There is such thing as magic.

That’s what Sorey thinks, anyway. Usually his nature tends to be that of a realistic thinker, but he’s always had a soft spot for the supernatural. It doesn’t matter what kind of magic it is; stereotypical witchcraft or spell-casting, or even forces like fate and destiny. Regardless of the type, magic has to exist in some form or another.

Of course, there’s no proof that he’s right. Even if there is, he has no way of finding it for himself, especially not when he’s in a situation like this.

His father’s study feels like a black hole where magic goes to die. The dark, regal colouring and antique flooring might suggest the opposite. But the atmosphere in the room, the hopelessness permeating the air, is what lets him know he’s right.

Georg Heldalf, Sorey’s father, stands before the window, his back facing him and blocking the outside world from view. The light before him creates the effect of his back being shadowed, hidden from view.

“Please, father,” Sorey pleads. “I promise I’ll be careful, and I’ll come straight home afterwards-”

“I’ve told you time and time again, Sorey,” Georg says without moving to face him. “You will not be going to school and that is final.”

“Is it too much to ask for a single year of being allowed to learn more about the world?”

His father scoffs. “How insolent. I pay for the best tutors in Pendrago to teach you everything you need to know for a full education, and this is the thanks I get. Everything you need is in this house.”

Sorey clenches his fist, turning his gaze to the only other adult in the room. His father’s assistant, Runette, only watches silently, her lips pressed tightly together.

Maybe magic isn’t real after all. At least, it doesn’t exist in this house.

“I appreciate everything you do for me,” Sorey says in a measured tone, “but there’s more for me to see outside this house. More people for me to meet. A life lived without going outside is barely a life at all.”

Georg heaves a great sigh, pushing a hand through his blond hair in agitation. “I have given you everything I could since your birth. Now your mother is gone, I am going through more trouble to keep you safe and happy.”

“But can’t you see that I’m not happy?”

“Leave.” His father’s tone is final, strong and low. “You will not be going to school. I have nothing more to say on the matter.”

For a moment, Sorey waits, desperate to say something else, to try to convince him. In the end, though, all he can do is hold his tongue and leave, heading back through the large, lonely house towards his room.

Now, more than ever, he wishes magic was real. Maybe then he’d have a chance at a normal life.

Mikleo would love for magic to be real. Maybe it would make life easier.

Of course, there's no chance of that happening. Though he enjoys thinking of impossible things, he always sees them for what they are - impossible. That's why he doesn't get his hopes up that high school will be any better than middle school had been, or that some miracle will suddenly fix everything wrong with his life.

When he gets up on the first day of high school, his excitement is tainted by a sense of dread. There won't be many new people in his class, judging on how previous years have been. He'll be stuck in another year with a group of people he's never fit in with, and who never seemed to like him anyway.

Switching off his alarm, he takes a moment to gaze at his phone’s wallpaper, his lips curling upward at the sight of a picture of him with his best friend.

He wishes, not for the first time, that Sorey might be there to brave this new school year with him.

Again, there’s no chance of that happening. Even without the factor of Sorey’s father being the strictest man he’s ever had the misfortune to meet, he hasn’t seen Sorey for months, now. Not since his mother, Selene disappeared.

Locking his phone, he forces himself out of bed, where he puts on his glasses and begins to get ready for the day. His new school uniform is a little big on him, the white blazer sleeves almost dwarfing his palms, but he’ll grow into it. At least when he brushes his mouse-brown hair into a more sophisticated style, he doesn’t look quite so young.

Once he’s ready, he heads downstairs from his attic bedroom into the kitchen. His mother, Muse, is already there, brewing them both cups of tea to go with the cereal which sits on the island counter.

“Good morning, sweet pea,” Muse says through a yawn.

Muse has the same problem as Mikleo in that she’s always busy and never takes breaks. She wakes up at 5am everyday to make pastries for the coming day in the bakery downstairs. Then she spends all day working there, and she does the admin work at night before bed. Somehow, she fits in time to clean the house and do the chores whilst Mikleo is at school, too. He has no idea how she does it.

“Morning,” he replies, sitting down at one of the island stools. He grabs a clean bowl and pours himself some cereal. “How are you?”

“Ready for another busy day, as usual,” she says, putting a strong cup of tea on the counter beside him. “Are you excited for school? First day of a new year, after all.”

Mikleo hums in an unenthusiastic tone. “It’ll be the same as it is every year, mum.”

“But you’re in high school now,” she points out, sitting down to get her own breakfast. “Maybe something exciting will happen that will make your whole year amazing.”

“That would take a miracle, mum.”

‘Or some form of magic,’ he thinks.

A man stands alone in a dark chamber. The only light source is a window high above him, which looks out onto the city from a great height. Though the chamber is shrouded in darkness, there is no furniture to be seen. The only other inhabitants of the room are silver energy particles which float around the man, hovering near the ground.

The man holds out his hand in front of him, where a brooch lies in his palm. A red gem glimmers in the centre of its golden body, shimmering in the low light.

“What did you say you are?” he asks.

In front of him floats a strange being, one with skin of a purple hue and a blob-like form. The little creature has small pointed ears atop its head, and a tail with a fluffy tip.

"I am a kwami named Symonne," the creature says. "I live within the brooch you're holding, the Lion Miraculous."

"And if I wear this brooch, you will grant me powers?" he asks.

"Yes. I provide the power to send off energy to people, which gives them their own powers for a short period of time, under your jurisdiction. They will be able to do as you command them to."

Though the man’s face is hidden in shadows, his teeth gleam in the light. "And if I capture two certain Miraculouses, I might be granted special powers?"

Symonne nods. "Capturing the Miraculous of the Magpie and the Cat will grant you both the powers of creation and destruction, and any wish you ask for will come true."

A grin spreads across his lips. "Then I shall do exactly that. And what better way to lure two Miraculous-holding superheroes than to create supervillains, do you not agree?"

"Yes, master," Symonne says, her own lips curling as she watches him pin the brooch onto his shirt. "All you have to do is ask."

The man, standing tall in his lair, calls out. "Symonne, transform me!"

Darkness envelopes him, swirling around him as his clothing changes. A moment passes before he stands once more, this time clad in an entirely different outfit, one drenched in hues of purple and black. A mask covers his face, hiding his identity behind the image of a lion. The brooch on his collarbone holds together a long black cloak.

“Let it be known now that I am Calamity,” he says. "I shall cover Pendrago in darkness, in order to fulfil my wish. That is my answer."

Calamity lets out a roar of laughter, and for a moment, the world sees nothing but darkness.

The dark aura, for the most part, is unnoticeable. Only a few creatures sense it when it washes over them, one of whom stirs in a small house on the outskirts of the city.

Kyme freezes in the drawer where he usually sleeps, his body wrought with fear. This sensation filling him is one he has only felt a few times before, at times which preceded eras filled with chaos.

It is dread which makes him fly out of the drawer, heading quickly to his master’s side.

He finds Zenrus in the living room of the house, sitting on a pillow in front of the fireplace. He takes a long drag from his pipe, his expression all too calm considering the situation.

“Master,” he says.

Zenrus turns his attention to the green kwami. “Kyme. Is something wrong?”

“Yes, master. I felt a terrible aura. It can only mean one thing.”

“The Lion Miraculous?” When Kyme doesn’t respond, he breathes out the smoke from his pipe. “So, Calamity will rise once more. It was bound to happen one day.”

“But master, it hasn’t even been two decades-”

“There is no use in pondering the reason,” Zenrus says. He pulls out a necklace from around his neck, clutching it in his free hand. “We must make haste in stopping Calamity.”

Kyme zooms over, stopping Zenrus from uttering any more words. “Master, with all due respect, your body is too weak now to transform.”

“I’m still young,” he says, though they both know otherwise. For a man who has lived for centuries, even if he is strong, he does not have the power alone needed to triumph over evil. “But you are right. We must call on those with power stronger than any other.”

He gets up from his seat, moving over to where a music box sits in the corner of the room. Though it looks innocent enough, he opens a panel on it and types in a code. When it opens, it reveals dozens of pieces of jewellery, all inscribed with ancient symbols.

“You will choose another Magpie and Luzrov?” Kyme asks hesitantly. He isn’t sure he wants to know the answer. Hearing the truth will only tell him how much their city, and perhaps even their world, is at stake.

Zenrus nods gravely. “In times like these, it is only these two who may put an end to the evil threatening our world. I’m afraid it is a necessity.”

For a moment, they both stay silent, contemplating the war which will begin the moment these Miraculouses come into use. It will be a long struggle, if the past instances are anything to go by. They’ll need to use all of their strength, and choose heroes with unwavering hearts.

Kyme turns his attention to his master. “Where should we begin?”

It’s surprisingly easy to sneak out of Sorey’s house.

He’s only done it a few times before, and he’s never gone much farther than the end of the street. That being said, he could have gone farther, if he’d wanted. His only issue is the guilt which crawls into his throat at the thought of being caught.

This time, however, when he climbs out of his window and over the wall surrounding the house, he doesn’t look back. To get what he’s always wanted, he can’t back out now. Otherwise he’ll never get to go to school, have a normal life, make new friends and see his existing ones more often.

And lord knows seeing Mikleo right now would be good enough to make this whole trip worth it.

He runs down the street, heading in the direction of the local high school. Pendrago is a large city, but most of the public services are very central, and with his father’s house being in the city centre, it’s fairly easy to find where he’s going. Not having an escort tailing him makes getting around a lot easier, too.

As he moves into more crowded areas, he forces himself to slow his pace to a fast walk. He can’t have himself sticking out in such a huge crowd, lest someone recognises him from the few pictures online of his father with his family, back when his political power stretched further.

All he’s going to do is enrol for classes. If he does that, surely his father will understand his resolve.

The school building looms in the distance, and he speeds up, ready to run straight in. However, as he approaches it, he sees an old man crossing the street in front of the school. The man walks with a cane and a hunched back, very slowly and uncertainly. The ringing of the school bell punctuates the moment his foot slips, and he falls to the ground, just as a car turns the corner.

When Sorey moves now, it is an instinct more than a thought process. One moment he’s watching from afar, the next he kneels beside the man on the road. He picks up the man’s cane before turning to him.

“Are you okay?” he asks, offering an arm. “Can you stand?”

The car approaching grinds to a halt as the old man takes Sorey’s arm, using it to levy himself off the ground and onto his feet once more. They move onto the pavement and Sorey passes him his cane with a warm smile, which the old man returns gratefully.

Before either Sorey or the man can say anything, though, the halted car’s door slams, and a familiar voice assaults his ears.

“Sorey!” His father’s assistant Runette stands by the car, her eyes wide with anger, chest heaving. “You must come home at once!”

Feeling his heart crush in his chest, Sorey turns to face her. He doesn’t notice as the old man walks away, barely using his cane at all to move. “Please, you don’t understand. I’ve wanted this for so long-”

“Your father has told you time and again. Neither he or I will make any exceptions.”

The sound of a crowd grows, and Sorey knows if he doesn’t want to cause a scene whilst the students are going for lunch, he should stand down. But he can’t bring himself to give up. This is his last chance at convincing his father - or at least his assistant - that he ought to be allowed to attend public school.

“I understand that my father is worried for me,” Sorey says, “but I don’t see any issue with this. School is meant to be a safe place. Why would I get hurt here?”

“You will not be attending, and that is final.”

“Please-”

“Sorey?”

This voice feels like a blessing and a curse when he hears it.

Sorey whips around, his heart racing as he sees the familiar figure of Mikleo standing a few feet away. He’s wearing the school’s uniform, complete with the iconic white blazer Sorey has seen people wearing when he passes the school in the car. The formal dress is a little surprising, but he can’t say it doesn’t suit Mikleo. The only thing which doesn’t seem to belong on his face is the confusion and concern forming in his violet eyes.

“Mikleo,” Sorey says weakly.

“What are you doing here?” Mikleo asks, looking between Sorey and Runette. “Is something wrong?”

When Sorey opens his mouth to answer, he feels Runette’s ice-cold glare in the back of his head more than he hears her speak his name in a warning tone.

He holds up a finger to represent “one second” before rushing over to Mikleo.

“There isn’t time to explain everything right now,” Sorey says. “Can I call you later?”

Though Mikleo looks like he wants to ask more questions, he settles for a nod. “Alright. Just don’t scare me like that in the future, okay?”

“Thanks, Mikleo.”

Sorey heads back toward Runette, hesitating when he sees the escort car waiting for him, ready to return him to a life he will never escape from.

There’s no point in resisting, though. All he can do is obey the wishes of his father. He’s powerless to do anything else.

Zenrus turns the corner, heading into an alleyway behind the school. It’s shaded enough that onlookers shouldn’t see more than a silhouette if they happen to glance over as they pass by. Reaching into his pocket, he removes an ornate jewellery box in the shape of a hexagon, marked with symbols only he and a few others understand.

“Take this to that boy’s house,” he tells Kyme, who comes out from his hiding spot in Zenrus’ other pocket.

“Are you certain? This boy is definitely the right one for the Magpie Miraculous?”

Part of Zenrus wishes Kyme wouldn’t be so cautious, but then again, he is the same way. “I only ever chose wrongly once, years ago. I will not allow that to happen again.”

With that as his answer, Kyme gives in, taking the box from his master. He is dwarfed by its size, but he manages to carry it with him as he flies off into the sky on his mission.

Watching after him, Zenrus grasps his cane. There is nothing left to do now but search for the other hero their city needs, and then hope he’s made the right decision.

As the black car drives away, Mikleo wonders if this day can get any weirder.

Not only has he just been faced with the sight of his best friend for the first time in months, having an argument in front of his school. He’s also been in classes where he doesn’t recognise a single person, and watched his History teacher lose his composure over the rudeness of a few careless students.

To be fair, Mikleo can understand why his teacher was upset. Professor Uno seems like an intelligent and patient man. For a class to give such a rude first impression, interrupting constantly and bickering without any care for their teacher’s warnings, it doesn’t give him hope for the rest of the school year. If the other students would just be more considerate, maybe things would be better.

A crash interrupts his thoughts, followed by a shriek of fear. He whips back to face the school, heart stopping as he sees what stands at the door.

Rather than a person, it’s more of a half-human, half-snake creature. The blue tail suggests it’s more snakelike, along with the scales crawling up the man’s exposed neck and face. His hair falls around his shoulders in a mess, his eyes now slits, glowing with rage. Strangest of all, he wears a snake around his neck.

“Students,” the man calls out, “My name is Uroboros. It is time you were taught a lesson in manners!”

When Mikleo said he wanted people to be more considerate, this isn’t how he expected them to be taught about it.

He backs away behind one of the pillars supporting the school building, watching from behind it as the snake man moves towards the fleeing students, swiping at them with long claws. It’s a sight unlike anything he’s seen before, unlike anything he’s ever wanted to see, and for a horrifying moment, he wonders if this is the proof he desired that magic exists.

If it is, he kind of wishes he never found out.

Uroboros swipes at a pillar, causing the roof to cave in, stone dust and debris falling from above. Mikleo has to run to get out of the way, holding one arm over his head and the other over his mouth, the fabric of his blazer hot against his lips from his breaths. As he reaches the corner of the building, he notices an old man standing nearby, a look of horror in his eyes as his cane lies abandoned a few feet away.

“You need to get out of here!” Mikleo yells, getting the man’s attention. He runs toward him, picking up the cane and handing it to him. “I’ll help you to safety.”

Without giving him a chance to respond, Mikleo grabs the man’s arm and drags him around the corner, running with him down the alleyway toward the next street down. It’s a useful shortcut to know, one which leads to a main street with plenty shops lining the streets. He drags the man into one at random. The door opens with a crash, and the woman behind the counter startles as he rushes in.

“There’s something attacking near the school,” Mikleo explains, letting go of the man’s arm. “Please look after this man. Lock all the doors and alert the others on this street.”

The woman nods, too scared and shocked to say a word, and Mikleo runs out of the shop again. If someone is terrorising the school, he can’t bring himself to sit back and do nothing.

In the shop, Zenrus gives a reassuring smile to the cashier before heading to the door. “The young boy is right. Please stay inside.”

The woman says, “Where are you going?”

“I have far more important things to be doing than hiding,” he answers cryptically.

As he leaves the shop and rushes down the street as fast as his legs will take him - which, to be fair, is a lot slower than it used to be - he can’t help the heavy feeling in his heart.

“I suppose the white cat runs in your blood,” he says to himself as he runs toward a certain bakery, where a pair of violet eyes reside, matching those of the boy he has chosen.

It’s only once Sorey gets back to his bedroom and turns on his TV that he hears about what’s happening.

He sits down on his sofa, reclining and ready to find another documentary he’s already watched a thousand times, only to find himself bombarded with news announcements.

“A man with the tail of a snake has been spotted roaming near the Pendrago High School,” the news reporter says. The footage switches to an aerial shot of the school, where it shows an unbelievable creature who truly has the body of a snake. “The creature is incredibly violent. We urge citizens to stay at home if possible, and not to engage the beast at all costs.”

“This is crazy,” Sorey murmurs, watching in horror as the snake creature swipes at a passing student. “Is this real?”

It occurs to him, that Mikleo had been near the school only minutes ago. He hopes with all his heart that he managed to get away.

His head drops as he wonders how this will end up. Will someone be able to stop the beast? Or will it continue terrorising innocent people? This is the kind of thing which only happens in comic books, but as far as he knows, there aren’t any superheros in Pendrago.

Catching sight of something in the corner of his eye, he looks up. In the centre of his coffee table sits an antique jewellery box.

It’s like nothing he’s seen before. Though the markings have come up in textbooks and online articles he’s read about ancient relics, he can’t figure out its origin era, or what it’s supposed to mean. Most confusing of all, of course, is how it ended up in his room. He’s never seen it before, and neither his father nor his assistants are the types to give gifts at random.

Well, he has nothing to lose. He opens the jewellery box.

Suddenly, a burst of white light surrounds him, and he squints his eyes as something materialises before him. It takes a moment for the light to disappear before he sees an unfamiliar creature floating in the air above the box. It looks a little like a bird, though it’s an unnatural shade of green, and it has a little antenna thing sticking out from its head. It also grins at him, which Sorey is unsure birds are usually able to do.

His expression changes to a disappointed frown a moment later. “Awww, I’d been hoping for a pretty lady this time.”

Sorey blinks, unsure how much more surprised he can get. He isn’t sure whether to ask what it is or why it can talk or what. In the end, what comes out of his mouth is, “Sorry?”

The thing, whatever he is, crosses his arms behind his head, letting his expression become easygoing once more. “Welp, can’t be helped. Hey kid, the name’s Zaveid. Looks like I’ll be your kwami from here on out.”

“What?” Sorey asks, getting even more confused at this new terminology. “What does that mean? Who are you?”

The kwami - Zaveid - rolls his eyes in exasperation. “I just told you, I’m Zaveid, a kwami. Seriously, you got ears, don’t you?” He looks down at the jewellery box, prompting Sorey to do the same. “See those earrings? That’s where I live.”

They’re an ordinary looking pair of silver ear cuffs, each with two black beads attached to them.

“You live in the earrings?” Sorey asks.

“Yup. If you put them on and say “transform me”, I grant you super special powers, and you can purify evil.”

Sorey’s eyes widen, slowly beginning to understand what Zaveid is talking about. “Wait, you can make people have magic?”

Zaveid grins. “Yeah. With my help, you’ll be a superhero. You up for it?”

“Of course! This is the kind of thing I’ve always dreamed of!” Sorey jumps up from the sofa, taking the earrings out of the box. As he puts them on, he continues with his questions, trying to pry more information out of the kwami.

Though Zaveid doesn’t tell him much, he learns this: with these earrings, he will become a hero with the power to create a lucky item to help him defeat villains. These are people who have been tainted by evil creatures known as akumas, which are controlled by - well, he’s not sure, Zaveid changes the subject before he can ask. In any case, as a hero, he’ll have the strength and ability to save those in need, and to purify the akumas, returning the victims to their original states.

“So you mean to say the snake thing attacking the school is an akuma victim?” Sorey asks, looking over to the TV once more.

“Looks like it,” Zaveid says. He doesn’t sound like he’s in much of a hurry as he says, “You should probably be quick. Looks like that guy’s only getting angrier.”

With both earrings on, there’s nothing stopping Sorey from going now. He clenches his hand into a fist, then grins confidently.

“Alright. Zaveid, transform me!”

Zaveid is sucked into his earrings, and light explodes around him. His body is encompassed by a warm aura, and he finds his clothes changing to a black and white bodysuit, fit with a colourful bird’s tail and thigh-high lace up boots. A mask with a pointed, beak-like nose covers his face, and he runs a glove-covered hand through his hair, messing it up a little to make it more windswept. White feathers sprout from his earrings, brushing against his skin.

The moment passes, and he finds himself alone in his room, now in a strange outfit.

Still, Sorey has never felt so powerful before. Now, he feels like he’s capable of anything.

“This is amazing!” he says, looking over himself. “So now what do I do?”

Only silence answers him.

“Zaveid?” he says, looking around himself. The kwami is nowhere to be seen.

“Alright,” he says to himself. “Guess I’ll figure it out as I go along.”

He rushes over to the window and jumps out, ready to take on whatever this creature will throw at him.

Mikleo’s chest heaves with exertion. He’s been running around the school for longer than he can keep track of, now. At least it looks like he’s helped most of the stragglers to safety at this point, but if there are any more here, he’s not sure how much help he’ll be. He’s already out of energy, and no one has shown up to tackle the snake man yet.

All he can do is hope that someone will come to save the day. After all, if snake people exist, then there must also be someone with the power to best them. Well at least, that’s what he hopes.

He makes sure the coast is clear before running out from his hiding spot, trying to find the best way of getting away from the school. It’ll do no good if he gets caught by that snake man now.

The door is in sight. He runs toward it at full speed, hoping the snake is where he left it, nearer the rear of the school than the front entrance. He gets outside, toward the debris where pillars have fallen, and it’s only at the last moment that he hears the sound of crumbling rock.

‘Oh no,’ he thinks.

Before he can even move to protect himself, something comes barrelling into him, pushing him out of the building as the stone pillars fall, blocking the door. He lands on the ground with a thud and a large weight on top of him, pinning him to the ground.

The weight shifts.

“Are you alright?” someone asks.

Mikleo opens his eyes, his heart hammering as he takes in the image of someone new, someone he’s sure he’s never seen before and yet feels some sort of familiarity toward. This guy - he has to be a superhero, no one else would wear that getup and push people out of collapsing buildings with that strength - but there’s something in his green eyes that Mikleo feels like he should recognise.

“I-I’m fine,” he stammers, still shell-shocked. He swallows to regain his composure before speaking again. “Who are you?”

The hero gets up off of him before offering a hand, pulling him back onto his feet with ease. “My name is So- er, Magpie,” he says. “I’m here to help get rid of a snake problem?”

For a moment, Mikleo isn’t sure exactly what to say. He’s never thought about being in this kind of situation before. Everything happening to him has put his head in such a spin, it feels like his whole knowledge of normal conversation has gone right out of his head.

In the end, he looks over in the direction of the school building. “I suspect it’s in there somewhere.”

Magpie nods, his feathered earrings blowing in the wind with the ends of his windswept hair. “Thanks. Let me get you to safety first, though. Can’t have you getting bit, after all.”

He ends his sentence with a cheeky smile. Mikleo can’t help but wonder how he can smile in this dangerous situation.

In the end, he doesn’t get a choice in this matter. Magpie picks him up in a fireman’s lift with ease, using a running start before running and jumping up onto the building opposite the school. He runs along the rooftops, bridging the gaps with jumps Mikleo can’t imagine a normal person making. It’s only a matter of minutes before he drops Mikleo off on the balcony of his family’s bakery, where the trapdoor leads down into Mikleo’s room.

“How did you know this is my house?” Mikleo asks as Magpie sets him down.

The hero gives a loud laugh, scratching the back of his head. “Lucky guess? Anyway, I’d better go. Stay safe!”

With that, Magpie flits off again, leaving Mikleo to watch in a bewilderment.

“Messed that up,” Sorey mutters to himself as he makes his way back toward the school. “I almost completely blew my cover! Of course Mikleo would be the first one I’d bump into…”

Had it been any other situation, Sorey would have told Mikleo everything right away. After all, this is something they could both enthuse over, sharing their amazement at the existence of superpowers and heroes and ancient earrings with magical birds living inside of them. In the end, though, there’s no way he can say anything. Zaveid made as much clear earlier, when he told Sorey about the Miraculous.

“Oh, but you can’t tell anyone,” he said, his face growing serious only then. “Not your mum, not your girlfriend, no one.”

Sorey didn’t know how to tell Zaveid that his mum is dead and that he doesn’t have - or want - a girlfriend. He got the gist, though, and that’s why he knows not to tell Mikleo.

Still, he can’t help but feel a little more comfortable, now that’s over. At least he can rest assured that Mikleo is safe at home. Now he can focus fully on fighting the akuma.

He makes his way back to the school, glad to see that the snake has remained within the courtyard. It fumes with rage, but Sorey tries not to think too much about that. If he stands a chance of beating this thing, he’ll do better if he doesn’t worry about how angry it looks.

The only problem now is that he has no idea how to take this thing down. Sure, he has a weapon, though it’s a magical recorder, which Sorey doesn’t even know how to play, let alone how to use in close combat. The only other thing he knows he can do is summon a lucky item, but there’s no guarantee it will be of any use either.

As he watches the creature tear down another pillar, though, he knows there’s no other option.

Lifting the recorder to his lips, his hands somehow know exactly what to do. He plays a short tune, a ball of light forming at the base of the instrument. Then he throws that light into the sky and cries, “Lucky charm!”

The light grows above him, twisting and forming into an unrecognisable shape before disappearing. At the same time as it disappears, a book falls from the sky into his hand.

“A book?” he says, frowning as he examines the cover. It looks like a school-issued textbook, though he has no idea why this is going to be of any use.

“You!” a voice cries before he can figure it out.

Sorey stows the book in his belt, hoping it won’t slip out, and turns his attention to the akuma. Since it’s noticed him by now, there’s no way he can hide. All he can do is fight.

“Hey, snake face!” Sorey yells to it. “What’s got your tail in a twist?”

“People like you!” Uroboros says, lashing out at the pillar supporting the roof where Sorey stands. He barely manages to escape before it crumbles, running along the roof as the snake follows, pushing every pillar it sees to the ground. “People who have no consideration! Brats like you need to be taught a lesson, and that’s what I will do!”

(Uroboros, in his anger, almost does not hear the voice in his head, reminding him of his duty. When he hears it, though, he hisses, knowing his duty and vowing to obey.)

“Pretty dangerous lesson,” Sorey says, hopping over to a nearby tree. “Does it really need to involve so much destruction?”

“There is no better way,” the snake says. “But your lesson will be different. Before I can punish you, I must have those earrings!”

Sorey sighs. Of course this is how things would turn out. “Isn’t stealing pretty inconsiderate? How ironic.”

He hops out of the tree, moving along lampposts and other trees, using roofs as leverage as Uroboros follows, destroying everything he touches. Sorey can’t help but worry how long all this will take to fix.

Still, as he runs, his head spins with options. He needs to figure out a plan, some way to use this book, or to trap the akuma victim-

That’s it!

He changes his course, setting off in the direction of the school once more. “Bet you can’t catch me!”

Uroboros, as expected, follows in a blind rage, entering the school courtyard through the side, the only area not blocked by pillars. Sorey then runs around the debris, hopping onto the roof supported by the last remaining pillars.

“You will be taught a lesson!” the snake cries out, lashing out at the pillars.

As expected, the pillars crumble. Sorey barely manages to hop away before the roof falls with them, a crash of dust and debris falling to the ground. With all the exits blocked off, Uroboros can only cry out in frustration as Sorey remains out of his reach.

There’s no time to celebrate, though. Before he can even wonder what to do next, his earrings beep at him, reminding him of something else he’d forgotten: time.

Zaveid's voice floats through his mind, a reminder of their earlier conversation. “If you use your power, you’ll only have five minutes until you transform back. We kwamis can’t keep up for longer than that.”

He groans. Even if he has the villain cornered, of course he’s going to run into another complication. And all for the sake of a book he doesn’t know the use of.

Pulling the book out from his belt, he begins to sift through the pages, ignoring how the snake man yells at him from below. He doesn’t hear when the snake man grips the debris, trying to climb up the wall to reach him.

Sorey reaches the last page. Uroboros reaches the edge of the roof.

Someone suddenly plucks the book from Sorey’s hands and throws it at the snake, making him fall down once more.

When Sorey looks up, his heart stops. In front of him stands a boy painted in white, with fluffy cloud-like hair and a white super suit not unlike his own. Two pointed ears pop up from between tufts of hair. His left wrist bears a bracelet of gold, with a small aquamarine jewel embedded within it.

Perhaps the most intriguing thing about him are his eyes, hidden behind a white mask, a vibrant violet against his pale palette. The colour extends to the sclera, covering what would usually be white in a pale lilac hue.

Sorey’s first thought is, ‘I’m in love.’

His second is, ‘This guy is like me.’

“Aren’t you reckless,” the stranger says, regarding him with a judging gaze. “You should pay more attention to your surroundings.”

Sorey barely manages to snap put of his stupor to give a response. “I- uh- thanks?”

The stranger's lips curl up a little, and he turns away. “Go and rest up, and come back once you’re done. I can hold this thing off for now.”

The beeping in Sorey's ears reminds him that he ought to hurry in doing so. Before he leaves, however, he asks, “Who are you?”

The hero looks over his shoulder at him, his gaze steady as he answers. “Luzrov.”

The name tingles sweetly on Sorey’s lips, and he can’t help but smile when he repeats it. “Luzrov. Thanks, I’ll be back!”

He rushes off, feeling his energy soar at the thought of having someone like Luzrov at his side.

Mikleo isn’t entirely sure how his day has gotten to this point. He’s a little under the impression that he’ll wake up at some point, finding this all to be a dream.

The too-real feeling of fear as he stands near the snake akuma, alone, is enough to tell him that this is actually happening.

Once Magpie dropped him off at home, he rushed back into his room, turning on the computer in his room and waiting impatiently for the live news stream to load. As he tapped his foot, he noticed a jewellery box sitting on his desk where he knew it hadn’t been this morning.

Long story short, that jewellery box is what got him here. Who’d have thought, when he woke up this morning, that he’d be a superhero by afternoon?

Of course, he’d been entirely disbelieving, at first. It had taken a solid ten minutes for his kwami, Lailah, to calm him down, speaking carefully to get him to understand the situation. She went through everything she could with him, though there were certain things she couldn’t answer due to lack of knowing, and other things she wouldn’t answer, for reasons Mikleo did not know.

In any case, he has the gist of it, and now he’s here.

Fighting an akuma.

Alone, apparently.

Well, not entirely alone. Magpie will come back. All Mikleo has to do is wait until he has rested enough. It should be easy to keep the snake man trapped until then.

Except the snake is stronger than he anticipates. By the time Magpie leaves, Uroboros has carved away a chunk of the debris surrounding the courtyard, trying to dig his way out. Mikleo springs into action, running over to that side of the roof and using his staff to whack the snake away from the new exit.

A moment later, the snake swipes out at him, throwing him to the other side.

“Another brat!” he yells. “You will be taught a lesson, all of you! But not before I take your Miraculous!”

“You’re not taking anything of mine,” Mikleo says through gritted teeth, forcing himself back onto his feet. “And you’re not getting away, either! I can’t have you destroying Pendrago just because of your anger.”

“Oh? You think you can stop me?” Uroboros hisses. In a flash, he makes his way toward him, giving him only seconds to jump back onto the roof.

Still, it’s not quite safe yet. Uroboros swipes at the wall supporting the roof, causing that part of the roof to crumble under Mikleo’s feet. It’s all he can do to jump at the last second, scurrying away from the falling chunks, trying to find stable land.

“Hurry up, Magpie,” he mutters, his heart freezing as the snake lashes out at the wall beneath him.

“Grape mille-feuille? Seriously?”

Zaveid nods with a serious expression, though the effect is dampened by how exhausted he looks. His antenna droops from lack of energy. “Yup. Best thing for getting back energy, don’t you think?”

“Are you sure you can’t eat anything else?” Sorey asks, glancing at the kwami where he rests in his bag. “There aren’t many bakeries that sell something so fancy, you know.”

“Come on, there has to be somewhere around here,” Zaveid says. “And you can’t complain about the price. I saw your house. You’re loooooooaded, kid.”

“Just because my family has money doesn’t mean I can magic up fancy sweets at your whim,” Sorey mutters.

Seriously, he never would have guessed kwamis would be such hard work. Sure, he’s worried. He doesn’t want Zaveid to be low on energy for too long, but they’re kind of running on a time limit, here.

Glancing around himself, he sees that most of the stores nearby are closed, shutters down over the doors and windows. That much is to be expected, of course - this is the first time an attack like this has happened. It could destroy anything and anyone. This way things are much safer. It does make it more difficult to find a bakery that is still open, though.

The only one he can think of that might let him in is-

“Oh, that’s it!”

Sorey rushes down the street, turning a corner and heading in a direction he knows all too well.

“What, you found someplace?” Zaveid asks.

“My best friend’s family runs a bakery,” Sorey explains. “They make all kinds of sweets. I wouldn’t be surprised if they make your fancy grape things, too!”

It only takes a minute to reach the bakery, which thankfully doesn’t have its doors locked. He rushes in, the bell chiming above his head as he does. Muse looks up from the counter when he enters, her eyes widening.

“Sorey?” she says. “What are you doing here? Are you looking for Mikleo?”

“Not this time,” he says. “Do you by any chance make grape mille-feuille?”

“Yes, we do,” Muse says, her eyebrows drawn inward.

Catching a glimpse of his bag, Sorey sees Zaveid flash a quick thumbs-up, and he nods at Muse. “That’s perfect. Could I get one, please?”

As Muse bags up the treat, she says, “Isn’t this a strange time to be looking for sweets?”

“I guess,” he says. “Oh, speaking of Mikleo, though, did he make it home safe?”

Her hand freezes on the tongs, and she lays them down. “I haven’t seen him. I thought I heard the roof trapdoor open, but he wasn’t there when I went up to check on him.”

Fear strikes Sorey’s heart. If Mikleo isn’t here, then where could he be? This is exactly where he left him, after all. And how could he have left the house again without Muse noticing? And why would he?

All this worrying is making his head hurt.

He quickly pays for the mille-feuille, thanking Muse, before rushing out of the bakery again, this time with a new sense of urgency. He needs to get back and help Luzrov, before it finds Mikleo, or anyone else it could hurt.

At Pendrago castle, Uroboros pulls down a tree without mercy. Mikleo hops out of its branches, leaping between lampposts and praying he won’t catch up. There aren’t many civilians around, at the very least. Most of them seem to have left when the news alerts were broadcasted, though a couple of stragglers scream their way away from the akuma as it approaches. It’s lucky Mikleo is as fast on his feet as he is now, or else he’d have no chance of distracting Uroboros long enough to give them time to escape.

Speaking of luck, he thinks his is starting to wear thin. He's running out of lampposts, and the only other thing nearby that he could possibly use as leverage would be the castle itself. The possibility of this creature damaging such an important historical building makes him feel sick to his stomach, but he supposes he'd rather have that over someone dying because he lured the villain too close to other people.

He braces himself before leaping onto the castle ramparts, running along the walls to reach the main building. Uroboros follows behind, though he can only tell by the sound of its tail slithering over the ground and his angry complaining. He doesn’t dare look back at it, too afraid of what he might see.

Once reaches the main courtyard of the castle, he leads Uroboros in the front, taking him as far into the castle as he can from above. Only once they reach the innermost chamber before the main building does he pause, turning back.

In contrast to the destruction outside of it, the castle itself is entirely undamaged. Not a single brick lays out of place, not a dent within them. Uroboros doesn’t even try to strike out at the walls around him, where Mikleo has him almost cornered.

“It’s not attacking,” he murmurs in amazement. “But why?”

“Maybe because he’s a history teacher.”

Mikleo jumps in surprise at the sudden reappearance of Magpie, who stands a few feet away, holding the forgotten textbook.

“How do you figure?” he asks once he gets over the sudden shock, ignoring the mischievous grin which spreads across Magpie’s lips at his reaction.

“This is a history textbook,” Magpie says, flipping it open to a chapter entitled The Era of Asgard. “I looked through it earlier. It's really fascinating stuff, and that has to be the reason why he won’t damage the castle.”

“What, because he cares about history? I suppose it makes sense, but then you have to wonder how he became akumatised in the first place.”

Magpie shrugs. “I think he was angry at his students.”

Looking back at Uroboros, Mikleo squints, trying to see through blue scales to the face underneath. Something clicks for him a moment later.

“It can’t be – Professor Uno?!”

The snake yells in anger. “I am Uno no longer! My name is Uroboros, and I will punish all those who do not listen!”

“You know this guy?” Magpie asks.

“He’s an acquaintance,” Mikleo answers. “But that answers one question. Now all we have to do is purify him, right?”

“Yeah!”

A long moment of silence passes between the two of them. Then, hesitantly, Magpie says, “How do we do that?”

In that moment, the amount that Mikleo was impressed by Magpie goes down exponentially.

“Didn’t you talk to your kwami before transforming?” he says.

“O-of course I did!” he sputters. “He wasn’t exactly specific about methodology, though. All I know is that we need to find the thing that was infected by the akuma and destroy it.”

“So like a trinket of some kind?”

“Yeah. Glasses, a bag, anything that’s part of his personal effects that was there before he turned.”

Mikleo turns to look at Uroboros once more. He looks so different from when he was human that Mikleo can’t really tell what’s new and what he had on him already. All he notices that looks suspicious is the snake around his neck which looks almost like the blue tie he’d worn earlier in class.

“Do you think it might be his tie?” Mikleo asks.

Magpie hesitates for a moment before nodding. “Might be. It’d be worth a shot, right?”

“Well sure, but we still have to get close enough to break it.”

“Time for some close combat, I guess,” Magpie says, moving to the edge of the roof. “You up for it?”

“It’s not like there’s any other choice.” Mikleo moves to stand at Magpie’s side, looking out over the castle where the akuma lies. “If you distract it, I might be able to destroy the tie using my power.”

“You can destroy things?” Magpie asks, wide-eyed. “That’s so cool!”

Mikleo rolls his eyes at the praise. “You can create things from thin air. I’m just doing my part, too.”

They both turn back to face the akuma victim, and on the count of three, they drop down, ready to fight.

“I’ll distract it,” Magpie says before calling out to Uroboros. “Hey, snake-face! Over here!”

When the distraction works, Mikleo takes his chance. He rushes around the side of the snake, watching out for its tail as he swipes it at Magpie. He pulls out his staff and extends it, quickly thinking through the logistics of how this thing might work in their favour.

“Gotta try harder than that!” Magpie yells at Uroboros, flitting out of his reach again. He glances over in Mikleo’s direction, waiting for a signal.

Mikleo gulps. This is all on him - if their plan fails, it’ll be his fault.

All he can do is try.

He raises a hand in a claw and summons his power. “Cataclysm!”

A tingling sensation fills his hand, a buzz of darkness swarming around the white glove of his suit. He holds it out of the way as he uses his other hand to hold the staff, extending it beneath him to push himself into the air. As he jumps over Uroboros, he reaches his other hand down, his fingers grazing the edge of the tie.

It’s enough to do the job. The snake-shaped tie hisses as it crumples into dust. A purple blob of energy comes out of it, floating slowly upward. Before either of them can do anything, it suddenly grows larger, collecting in a giant mass above them, forming into the shape of a lion’s head.

“Listen well,” it says in a low, deep rumble. “I am Calamity. I cannot be stopped or quelled, and I will without doubt take those Miraculous of yours. I will cause chaos in this city. Weaklings like you will not stop me. You might as well hand them over right now.”

Mikleo glares at the lion’s head, ready to answer, but Magpie steps out before he can say anything.

“Don’t be so sure about that,” Magpie says. He stands tall and confident, even against the threat of a supervillain. “You can try as much as you like to cause destruction, but Luzrov and I will always be here to stop you. There’s no way you’ll be having our Miraculous. So just wait, Calamity. You’ll be the one giving yours up, and then this city will be brought to peace again.”

When Magpie looks over his shoulder at Mikleo, he steps forward, joining him at his side.

“That’s right,” he says.

“Fools,” Calamity says. “You will pay the price for your idiocy.”

Magpie smirks, then using his weapon, he jumps up and cuts through the ball of malevolence, purifying it with a single strike. The akuma is the only remnant, which he quickly purifies with a short melody. Then he tosses his lucky charm book into the air. A flame-like substance spreads from it, reaching endlessly over the sky for a moment, fixing everything that was broken by the fight.

The moment ends, and the city is brought to peace once more.

“Okay, that was pretty incredible,” Mikleo says, turning to his new partner in fighting crime. He holds up a fist. “Nice job.”

Magpie grins before bumping their wrists together. “Nice job, Luzrov. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

At that moment, Mikleo’s bracelet decides to beep at him, warning him of his time limit. “Well, I’d better go. See you soon, Magpie.”

With that, Mikleo uses his staff to move to higher ground, ready to get back home and finally rest.

(He doesn’t notice how Magpie watches as he goes, eyes filled with a fondness which seems far too great for people who have only just met. And yet, the warmth in his heart indicates that this bond will only become stronger, and he can’t wait to see his new partner again.)

It’s only natural that Mikleo is exhausted, the next morning.

When he got home last night, he barely said a greeting to his mother before collapsing into bed, passing out quickly from all the excitement of the previous hours. He wakes up not long before his alarm, starving and still aching from the fight yesterday. The sound of raindrops on his window soothes him a little, but not enough to make him feel any better physically.

“Oh, you’re awake,” a small voice says.

He turns his head to see Lailah on his pillow, smiling at him. She doesn’t look at all tired, and he supposes she must have gotten herself something to eat whilst he slept.

“Morning, Lailah,” he says. “So it wasn’t a dream, huh?”

Lailah gives a little laugh. Her tail flicks on the pillow. “No, it was real. You both did a wonderful job, yesterday.”

“Will that happen often?” he asks, uncertain. Even if he has this power now, knowing that the city will be in danger is concerning.

“Yes,” Lailah says, her ears drooping. “I’m afraid Calamity will not stop until the city is covered in chaos. Only you and Magpie have the power to stop him.”

He lets out a deep breath through his nose. When he signed up to this yesterday, he had no idea how serious this would become. And yet, he can’t bring himself to regret his decision, when he thinks about the number of people he saved yesterday.

Sitting up, he says, “I suppose I’d better do my best from here on out, then. I’ll be counting on you, Lailah.”

Floating up to his side, Lailah’s eyes are filled with hope. “I have every faith that you’ll make a wonderful Luzrov, Mikleo.”

He gets ready for school as usual, feeling a tad less reluctant than yesterday. When he heads downstairs for breakfast, his mother greets him with her usual smile. Somehow, today she looks more tired than yesterday. She stays quiet as he comes in, watching him as he pours his cereal for himself. He’s glad his bracelet is covered by his blazer, since he can only imagine the questions he’d get for having it.

Eventually, his mother speaks.

“Where were you yesterday?” she says. “During that attack, we were so worried for you. We heard you come in, but you weren’t there when we checked.”

Mikleo tries not to let his thoughts show on his face when he thinks, ‘Oh crap.’

“I forgot something at school,” Mikleo lies. “It was my phone. I couldn’t leave it there.”

Muse’s expression only becomes more distraught at his answer. “I thought you had more common sense than that. Wasn’t that monster at the school?”

“It wasn’t there when I got back,” Mikleo says. “I won’t do it again though, I promise.”

For a moment, she keeps up the pretence of being angry with him. She can’t hold it forever, though, and she ends up moving over to hug him tightly.

“You’d better not,” she says.

Mikleo hopes he’ll be able to hide it better in the future, or else this superhero business will be a lot tougher than he thought it would be.

Once he finishes breakfast and gathers his stuff, he says goodbye to his mum and heads out of the bakery house. The rain falls lightly on his head, cool and refreshing. He doesn’t have an umbrella, but that hasn’t stopped him from walking in the rain before. He might be soaked by the time he reaches school, of course, but he tries not to think about that.

Stepping away from the bakery door, he moves out onto the pavement-

Only to find that the rain suddenly stops.

Well, it doesn’t stop completely. He can see it falling in front of him, and can hear it pattering on the umbrella over his head. Sure enough, there’s now a stretch of clear plastic above his head, an umbrella held out by none other than-

“Sorey?!”

Sorey stands behind him, holding out the umbrella as the rain dampens his hair, running down his silver earcuffs and onto the shoulders of a brown cardigan, emblazoned with a familiar coat of arms.

“Morning, Mikleo,” Sorey says. His smile and the fondness in his eyes are warm enough to make Mikleo shiver.

Mikleo finds for a long moment that he can’t speak, his throat constricted by some unknown force. When he finally finds words, he says, “What are you wearing?”

In a teasing tone, Sorey says, “What does it look like I’m wearing?”

“Did you actually convince your dad?” Mikleo asks in disbelief. “How?”

“Turns out sneaking out of the house to go to school is a good way to make strict parents believe you want to go to school,” Sorey says with a shrug. “I dunno, though. When I got home Runette told me he’d said it was okay.”

Mikleo’s heart stutters. Somehow, everything he’d wanted is coming true. Magic is real, life is looking up, and his best friend will be in the same class as him from now on.

He couldn’t be happier.

“We should get going, or we’ll be late,” Mikleo says, pushing the umbrella so it shelters them both. The proximity between them strikes pins and needles into his arm, but he doesn’t shy away.

Instead, he walks at Sorey’s side towards his - their - school.

#sormikweek2018 #sormik #tales of zestiria #toz #tales of zestiria fanfiction #HI I LOVE THIS AU #this fic took so long to write though #why is the origins part so difficult and long ughghggh #i've written like three different reveals and combined they're all shorter than this oneshot

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jovandawkins · 4 years ago

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Music, Economics, and Beyond

"The whole point of digital music is the risk-free grazing" --Cory Doctorow Cory Doctorow, Canadian journalist together with co-editor and of the off-beat blog Boing Boing, is an activist in favor of liberalizing copyright laws and a proponent in the Creative Commons nonprofit organization devoted to expanding the range of creative works available for others to build upon lawfully and to share. Doctorow and others continue to write prolifically about the apocalyptic changes facing Intellectual Property in general along with the music industry in specific. In this article, we will explore the cataclysm facing U. S. industry in the portal example of the music industry, a simple industry in comparison to those of automotive or energy. However , within the simplicity of this example we may uncover some lessons that apply to all industries. In his web-article, "The Inevitable March of Recorded Music Towards Free, " Michael Arrington tells us that music DVD sales continue to plummet alarmingly. "Artists like Prince and Nine Inch Nails are flouting their brands and either giving music away or telling their fans to steal it... Radiohead, which is not any longer controlled by their label, Capitol Records, put their new digital album on sale on the Internet for no matter what price people want to pay for it. " As many others have iterated in recent years, Arrington reminds us that with regard to effective legal, technical, or other artificial impediments to production can be created, "simple economic theory dictates that the price of music [must] fall to zero as more 'competitors' (in the following case, listeners who copy) enter the market. " Unless sovereign governments that subscribe to the Universal Copyright laws Convention take drastic measures, such as the proposed mandatory music tax to prop up the industry, there pretty much exist no economic or legal barriers to keep the price of recorded music from falling toward zero. With response, artists and labels will probably return to focusing on other revenue streams that can, and will, be exploited. Especially, these include live music, merchandise, and limited edition physical copies of their music. According to author Stephen M. Dubner, "The smartest thing about the Rolling Stones under Jagger's leadership is the band's workmanlike, corporate method to touring. The economics of pop music include two main revenue streams: record sales and traveling profits. Record sales are a) unpredictable; and b) divided up among many parties. If you figure out how to tour efficiently, meanwhile, the profits--including not only ticket sales but also corporate sponsorship, t-shirt sales, etc ., --can be staggering. You can essentially control how much you earn by adding more dates, whereas it's hard to overpower how many records you sell. " ("Mick Jagger, Profit Maximizer, " Freakonomics Blog, 26 July 2007). In order to get a handle on the problems brought about by digital media in the music industry, we turn to the data the majority relied upon by the industry. This data comes through Neilsen SoundScan which operates a system for gathering information and tracking sales. Most relevant to the topic of this column, SoundScan provides the official method for tracking gross sales of music and music video products throughout the United States and Canada. The company collects data on a every week basis and makes it available every Wednesday to subscribers from all facets of the music industry. Like for example , executives of record companies, publishing firms, music retailers, independent promoters, film entertainment producers and their distributors, and artist management companies. Because SoundScan provides the sales data used by Billboard, the leading trade magazine, for any creation of its music charts, this role effectively makes SoundScan the official source of sales records inside the music industry. Quo vadis? According to Neilsen Soundscan, "In a fragmented media world where technology is usually reshaping consumer habits, music continues to be the soundtrack of our daily lives. According to Music 360 2014, Nielsen's third annual in-depth study of the tastes, habits and preferences of U. S. music listeners, 93% of the country's population listens to music, spending more than 25 hours each week tuning into their favorite songs. " For most Americans, music is the top form of entertainment. In a 2014 survey, 75% of respondents claimed that they actively chose to listen to music over other media entertainment. Music is part of our lives across all times of the day. One fourth of music listening takes place while driving or riding in autos. Another 15% of our weekly music time takes place at work or while doing household chores. It has end up no surprise over the past five years that CD sales have diminished while download listening and sales get increased. Bob Runett of Poynter Online comments, "Start waving the cigarette lighters and swaying aspect to side--the love affair between music fans and their cell phones is getting more intense. Phones with audio capabilities will account for 54 percent of handset sales globally in five years, according to a report talking to firm Strategy Analytics Inc. The report suggests that we keep watching the growth of cellular tunes decks (CMDs), devices that deliver excellent sound quality and focus on music more than images. " ("A Few Notes About Music and Convergence, " 25 November 2014) Stephen J. Dubner summed in the mess quite well almost a decade ago. "It strikes me as ironic that a new technology (digital music) can have accidentally forced record labels to abandon the status quo (releasing albums) and return to the past (selling singles). I sometimes think that the biggest mistake the record industry ever made was abandoning the pop sole in the first place. Customers were forced to buy albums to get the one or two songs they loved; how many albums can you claim that you truly love, or love even 50% of the songs--10? 20? But now the people have talked: they want one song at a time, digitally please, maybe even free. " ("What's the Future of the Music Sector? A Freakonomics Quorum, " 20 September 2007). Like many of us, I (Dr. Sase) also have worked for a musician/producer/engineer/indie label owner releasing esoterica since the 1960s. While occasionally made an adequate living off my movies, I also developed my talents as an economist, earning a doctorate in that field. Therefore , I thought from this dual perspective of an economist/musician. The post-future, as many music pundits call it, does not really change that much from the past. How and why folks obtain their music continues to reflect at least three linked decision drivers. We can summarize the three most relevant as 1) Content, 2) Durability, and 3) Time-Cost. Let us explain further. 1) Content When I started to record music in the early 1960s, the market has been filled with "one-hit wonders. " It was the age of AM (amplitude modulation), DJ radio. It was also the age of this 45 RPM record with the hit on the A Side and usually some filler cut on the M Side. It was not uncommon for anyone with a 2-track reel-to-reel to "download" the one hit desired from their favorite broadcast station. There were few groups that offered entire twelve-inch LPs with mostly great songs. The first these LP that I purchased was Meet the Beatles by those four lads from Liverpool. Click here Jovan Dawkins During the late nineteen sixties, the industry turned more to "Greatest Hit" collections by groups that had previously turned out a archipelago of AM hits and to "concept" albums. During this golden age of LP sales, the Beatles, your Stones, the Grateful Dead, Yes, King Crimson, and numerous other groups released albums filled with sound content. Bottom line: consumers don't mind paying for product if they feel that they are receiving value. 2) Durability How come would someone buy a twelve-inch LP when they could borrow a copy and tape record the tunes to a reel-to-reel or, later on, to a compact cassette? The answers at that time were simple. First, it was "cool" to have a great album collection, especially one that a member of the opposite gender could thumb through in your dorm room. Let us simply say that one's album collection could inform another party about people's tastes and possible sub-culture and personality. Therefore , an attractive collection provided a certain degree of social currency. May well this account for the resurgence of vinyl in recent years? The second part of the equation came in the form of actual product flexibility. Like current downloads, self-recorded reel-to-reel and cassette tapes generally suffered from some loss of fidelity in the change. More importantly, the integrity and permanence of the media also left something to be desired. Thirty to $ 40 . 00 years ago, tape would flake, break, and tangle around the capston. Unless one backed up their collection for a second-generation tape, many of one's favorite tunes could be lost. Today, computer hard drives crash. Without the expense of additional hard drive and the time involved to make the transfer, the same durability issues ensue. What about CDs? Since several of us who use CD-Rs for multiple purposes know, the technology that instantly burns an image actually leaves a product that remains more delicate and subject to damage in comparison to a commercially fabricated CD, stamped with a metal master. Will the Internet clouds provide the same level of comfort for music producers and listeners? We might just have to wait and see. 3) Time-Cost This third element basically reflects the old "tape is running/time-is-money" economic argument and may explain why younger music-listeners prefer to download songs either legally or illegally. The idea echoes the same economics that led listeners in the 1960s to record their favorite hits off of the radio. That substance of the argument has to do with how an individual values his/her time. If music-lovers works for a low per hour wage (or often no income at all), they will value the time spent downloading, backing up, and switching cuts in terms of what they could be earning during the same time. Let us consider the following example. Assuming that twelve packages or a comparable CD costs $12. 00, a baby-sitter earning $6 per hour could afford to spend even though two hours of time ripping music to achieve the same value. However , someone with a skilled trade or a degree may be earning $24. 00 or more per hour. Spending more than one half hour at ripping would exceed the worth derived. The counter-argument of the time-cost of travelling to a brick-and-mortar music store gets offset by a persons ability to log-on to Amazon or elsewhere in less than a minute and possibly receive free shipping. The market will constantly change as the primary market demographic ages. It happened with the Baby-Boomers of the 1960s and 1970s therefore will happen with Generation X, Y and Z in the current century. The bottom line of all of this debate rests on the fact that a consumer will choose the mode of deliverable that optimizes his/her bundle of values. The following bundle includes quality and quantity of content, durability, and time-cost effectiveness. These remain the lessons that will music makers and music deliverers must understand to survive. The more things change, the more they continue to be the same. "When I'm drivin' in my car, And that man comes on the radio, He's tellin' me more and more, Approximately some useless information, Supposed to fire my imagination, I can't get no, oh no, no, no . inch -Michael Philip Jagger, British Economist, London School of Economics In conclusion, we recognize that certain values inspire consumers as well as businesses. These values include content, durability, and time cost. It does not matter whether the good and service under consideration exists in the form of real, personal, or intellectual property. The premise remains the same for making favorite songs, building automobiles, teaching economics, and providing legal services.

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