[centre][h1][sub]The Lady-in-Waiting[/sub][/h1]

[img]https://i.imgur.com/BfZbVov.png[/img]

[img]https://i.imgur.com/XRcyBUw.png[/img][/centre]
In the days and weeks that followed the coming of the Songs into Meliorem, the realm knew sound as it never had before. Inky songbirds sloughed off the Sirens and flew off into the realm's heavens, releasing trilling sounds that seemed to carry far and wide, and the ocean all about them seemed to breathe and sigh more audibly, its waves charging up the shores with vigorous sound before letting up a laugh and retreating, all coyness and giggles. And the Songs themselves had been making full use of the town that Cadien had erected for them.

While the Songs had no immediate need for it, the bathhouse had been thoroughly explored and prepared for any guests who may come by. Its exterior walls had been painted a deep, sunset orange, while the tiles that made up the roof has been inked a dark green. Inside, the Songs had gotten to work on bringing into being decorative tiles with all sorts of geometric patterns and designs. They were made up of very simple units, for the most part, but the sprawling nature of the whole made it an aweing thing to behold. Pillars were sculpted with flowers and leaves and vines, and the stony forms of nude Songs frolicing them could here or there be spied.

But it was not the bathhouse alone that received such treatment - although it was the first -, and all of the village was slowly made colourful and beautiful, teeming with the vibrant energy of life and activity. The library was painted with calm, reserved hues of brown and deep reds, its walls and shelves sculpted and carved with the forms of lovelorn poets and long-bearded scholars, shy maidens hiding at the foot of this shelf or in that far corner with book in hand or a letter from some secret admirer. And while libraries - as it is known - are meant to be places of quietude and reflection, the Songs that gathered here milled about and found one source of inspiration or another to sing their lyrics to, so that soon it was perfectly normal to walk into the library to find one Song or another reclined upon a great central podium with others sat about reciting poems or singing songs or scribbling away in inspired fits.
The central square had quickly found use with impromptu dancing, singing competitions, Songs offering to paint or sculpt the most beautiful and resplendent of their kin; and it was the great arena where the Songmen sought the hearts of the women. It had not been many weeks, and yet none of those poor newborn artists that Cadien had formed from the vestiges of the great flailing tentacle of ink had succeeded in wooing to them any of the women, who were generally dissatisfied with the lack of inspired works the men produced. 

'Ah! But can you blame us, poor artists that we are, for the lack of inspiration, or should you blame the muse herself - coy and merciless, unforgiving and distant, displeased with all that we humbly lay down at her feet. Will the husk of my living form please you, lady? Will it be art enough, pray tell?' One had melodramatically declared at one point when one woman had refused an ornately crafted flower of inky gems and natural petals.
'And what is life that you should think it dearer than art? If your corpse is the way to my heart, then better by far is death than life,' had come her pained response, inky tears gushing suddenly from her eyes.
'Ah! She spoke and smote my being with speech - my lady who is out of reach. And though her words have caused my death her tears at once restore my breath; and I shall fight and toil and die so that you'll never need to cry!' And with that, he rushed away on the wing of sighs and moans, reciting verses and lyrics in an attempt to find the key to his muse's frigid heart.

The lady-in-waiting had watched over all this in silence and sighs, and had allowed her Songs to drag her now to the bathhouse, to see their handiwork, and now to the library and the square, and she had praised their good work before returning to her small abode. When she did venture out of her own volition, it was to visit the amphitheatre. There she would sit and watch as numerous Songs with plays they had toiled over for a day or two brought together troupes to rehearse. A few performances had been shown, though the reception was generally lukewarm and audiences were not too impressed - and the lady-in-waiting could not say she was particularly impressed either.

But now a number of promising plays were being shown, and the lady-in-waiting sat waiting as the sets slowly filled up with melodiously murmuring Songs. When there was a respectable gathering, a drummer amongst the orchestra began drumming, and it was followed by a long harmonious vocal note from the musicians, and on the stage a white-clad woman appeared.

'The night was dark when Brin was born / His form was grand, so too his horn / Which on his head a crown was worn!' She declared, and on the stage there appeared a grandly dressed Songman, wearing a singular wooden horn. What followed was an overwrought tale detailing Brin's dissatisfaction, despite the grandness of his horn and the great respect his people afforded him. And so he sought out the Mad Nomad in the Fruit Tree, who bid him journey across the isles to speak with the One Who Soothes All Hearts - and that he must get to her in seven days or tragedy will strike! And so brave Brin set out, but on his way was swallowed by the charging waves and found at the bottom of the ocean the Man of the Sea, who was on a journey to unite the six tiles that held the island above the water. The tiles had been stolen by four mischievous seabirds, and the Man of the Sea could not leave the water and fly after those vile thieving birds.

'If you will aid me, Great-horn Brin, then I will show you the way out of the sea,' the Man of the Sea declared. And so their pact was sealed and Brin was shown the pathway out of the water. But on reaching the shore he reneged on his promise and instead continued his journey to meet the One Who Soothes All Hearts; and when he reached her it was just within the seven day time period the Mad Nomad had set. The One Who Soothes All Hearts welcomed the hero and offered him hospitality and care, and Brin found himself in all ways joyous and at peace.
'I will remain here, with you, for the rest of my days!' He declared. The One Who Soothes All Hearts reacted with great ecstasy, sweeping across the stage now on this side and now on that.
'But!' she cried, 'I must first look into your heart - for only he of unstained heart may stay with me,' she said, and she idled up to Brin and looked into his heart, and on doing so wept inky tears. 'Oh my, oh Brin! Where have you gone and where have you been? - for you've slaughtered me with your one sin.' And with that she let out a great pained cry and collapsed on the ground dead. The horned Brin let out an anguished cry and held the One Who Soothes to him, and he carried her weeping from one side of the stage to the other, and he spoke for long of his broken heart - ah, sinful, blackened thing! - and of his woe and of the joy he never would know. And he determined then to take the body of the one who had brought him joy - if only for a short while - and bury her among his people.

But as they journeyed across the waters, the Man of the Sea spotted the horned Brin and came at him with great rage and fury, and he so smashed Brin that he dropped his beloved and watched her fall to the ocean floor. 'Oh Man of the Sea! Oh Man of the Sea! My heart is broken, of joy I am free; all of your rage and all of your fury can't add to my pain and nothing can cure me!' The teary-eyed Brin cried.
'That is good, betrayer, great thief! You turned your back on me, betrayer, stole my friendship who are my foe!'
'Oh have a heart, Man of the Sea; return, return my love to me.'
'Not until the sea flows over, and all the stars grow dark,' the Man of the Sea rumbled and dramatically exited with the body of the One Who Soothes in his arms. Brin remained alone on stage, and he raised his arms to the heavens and cried out, and then fell to his knees and crumpled into stillness and silence. The musicians in the orchestra hummed dramatically, and a deep bass of finality sounded, and the show came to a close.

There were a few moments of silence following the end of the play, and then a cheer went up and there was clapping and whooping. The lady-in-waiting herself nodded in approval. This was a breakthrough play, there was no doubt about it. All that had been written and performed to date had been about the town here, and the plot generally rotated around a Songman's ultimately successful attempts to woo his muse. This here was something completely different, and the lady-in-waiting could already sense that this was only the beginning of the saga of Brin - for there were already Songs mumbling and asking about what happened next.

'What did you think, my lady,?' A Song seated next to her asked breathlessly, 'it was completely unexpected, don't you think? Who would have ever thought that his unkept promise would catch up to him in such tragic and terrible ways? I was stunned!' The lady-in-waiting glanced coolly at the Song, who winced and coughed. 'S- sorry, my lady,' she said, her bubbling exuberance replaced by a sharp-eyed sobriety. The lady-in-waiting smiled, however.
'No need for all that, now,' she said, reaching a hand out and moving a stray inky strand from the Song's face, 'it's good to stay in-character after all, don't you think?' A mischievous smile played about the lady-in-waiting's mouth, and the Song echoed it and bobbed her head.
'Yes, my lady,' she purred. The lady-in-waiting looked down to the stage where the cast was busy bowing and basking in the crowd's adoration.
'It was a good performance,' she uttered thoughtfully, 'and I like nothing more than a good performance, my dear,' and with that she rose and left the amphitheatre. As she crossed the great square on her way to her abode, a Songman called out to her.
'My lady! My lady!' He cried excitedly, 'here!' She turned as he leapt lithely towards her and, getting on his knees before her, held a little object up to her for inspection. She looked at the thing with raised eyebrows. 'For you, my lady,' he said as she plucked it from his extended hands and turned it this way and that. 
'What is it? Some kind of face sculpture?' She asked. The Songman shook his head with a knowing smile and stood up. Turning it around, he brought it to her face.
'No, my lady, it is a mask.' She looked through the eye-slits for a brief moment and then moved his hand and the mask away.
'Oh, very nice,' she said, and made to move off.
'Please, my lady, keep it!' he said desperately. She turned back to him with an irritated sigh and snatched it gracefully.
'Oh very well, I will,' she said, then turned around and hurried off. When she was indoors, she took the opportunity to inspect it. It was not particularly beautiful - though, of course, the features etched onto it were pretty enough -, mostly white and decorated here and there with patterns, the odd ornate tuft hanging off; but there was something about it... she could not put a finger on it, but as she stepped out and looked into a mirror hanging on the wall, holding the mask over her face...

she knew she liked it.
[centre][img]https://i.imgur.com/XRcyBUw.png[/img][/centre]
[list][*][hider=Summary]Things are going well in the Song town, and all kinds of artistic innovations are going on. The Songmen have not been successful in wooing the women, however! The lady-in-waiting watches a play in the amphitheatre and it's quite good - the first that's not just about the going ons in the town itself. As she is going back to her abode, a Songman comes over and gives her a mask. She pretends not to think much of it, but when she gets home she looks at it and likes it.[/hider]

[*][hider=Might]| 1MP and 0DP | 1MP towards Puppetry | 2DP towards Acting | 2DP towards Inspiration | Next Domain: Art |

1 MP to create an epic saga of the Songs, that will be told in plays, songs, poems, sculptures, paintings: The Epic of Great-horn Brin! (+1 towards Acting)

| 0MP and 0DP | 1MP towards Puppetry | 1MP & 2DP towards Acting | 2DP towards Inspiration | Next Domain: Art |[/hider]

[*][hider=Prestige]+5 Points to the Lady-in-Waiting
10 in total (~12,000 chars.)[/hider][/list]