the-clockwork-witch:
she lets him speak, and listens to each word with a careful dedication. each customer is PRECIOUS, after all, and the beautiful woman is intent on letting them know such through her subtle ways. flickering eyes and a hand that moves to fix her hair, signs of interest as a way to keep him speaking.
☾"Kiril-kun– Ah, the Clockworker. He wishes to let the first owner decide. Would they like to keep the song for themselves, or allow it to become a shared treasure? Many do wish to be the only bearer of the melody. Something to pass down within their families, much like a family crest.“
and what a fine tune it is, a short song of seven notes. yet upon closing ones eyes, the song becomes so much more. it becomes a battlefield, a final stand of STORY and SONG. the song swells to something grand and beautiful, and slows to a gentle and warming melody. it can fill one with courage and bravery.
the clockwork witch beams at her customer, at the strange person whose gender she cannot quite tell.
☾"All you have to do is say the word, and the Clockworker will be more than happy to produce more cylinders bearing that melody.”
there were rumours of how tangible the Clockworker’s music is, and Behemo indeed thought that it was a huge exaggeration on the people’s part, yet as he paid attention to the rise and fall of the music, it could very well lead people to think that the Clockworker had BREATHED life in his art. he is no more a life-giver than Seth, he is no more a god than he. the woman, gentle and fair, imparted the Clockworker’s wishes unto him, and all at once, Behemo thinks that it must’ve been one of the Clockworker’s little jokes in JUDGING what kinds of people his customers tend to be. if with a scientific mind, Behemo would’ve thought that the Clockworker was keeping surveys and tabs about the psychological patterns of his clientele.
“Then I shall humbly request for this piece of music to be shared.” a sure smile appears, reflecting every generous intent. “By right, every piece of music the Clockworker makes belong to him, and I dare not assume the rights to take it in my possession.”
he passes the music box back to the Clockworker’s fiancée and pays a handsome sum – the tune indeed brings back memories of far advanced times. a soft bit of song, minute bits of singing in such a fine cantabile manner, and for once in his life, he thinks that he has found the littlest bit of goodness in an otherwise rotting country. gone were the days when he would listen to the gentle songs of a madman, and gone were the days when he would sing along to them.
“I will come again to pass on a work of mine to the Clockworker in three days’ time – lately, I’ve been preoccupied with some business in the temple of the gods,” Behemo explains. not exactly a lie, not exactly truth either, yet it would have to suffice. “A small token of appreciation from my part, for the little bit of happiness that your fiancé has shared with us.”
