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@purplepianoman
Send Me 💬 + a Name and My Muse will Talk About That Person
This could be someone else’s muse, or the mun’s interpretation of an NPC or background character in my muses like. Heck, even a complete stranger my muse has to look up!
themusiichouse:
Well, now Franz feels like an idiot. Of course–if this was in fact a universe where all nonhumans had been killed, this had to be a universe in which Japanese people, and perhaps all other Lundai people by extension, had not yet uncovered their draconity. He feels stupid for not having assumed that earlier, completely unaware that he’s still being fucking stupid for not realizing the actual truth about where Frycek is from…
“I’m quite pleased to see that fellow Lundai are alive and well in your universe. Though I suppose nothing can be done about the rest of the nonhumans that might have existed there, it’s a pleasure to know that not all of us have gone extinct. I hope that, when the time is right, the Lundai of your world can live openly as the draconic peoples that they truly are, just as we do. And if there are in fact some urban legends surrounding Hamamatsu, I hope that the nonhumans living in Japan can one day live openly as well.”
Wil is enjoying this too much. It’s almost as though he can forget being rained on!
“Polish urban legends? Are Poles also a mythological species?” Wilhelm jokes. “Just kidding!”
The server calls out their table number, and Wilhelm rises to grab the food. He leans over the tray on purpose to get all the drinks wet–even when being punished for being a pest, he has to keep being a pest himself. He shoves the catmint brownie in his mouth–the stuff works on dragons as well as cats–and hands Chopin’s sopping-wet drink to him with a wink and a shit-eating grin.
“That’s my son, ever the troublemaker,” Franz sighs. “Anyhow. If nonhumans are considered myths in your world, what of your magic? It makes me wonder what mundane people think about the fact they live alongside magical Classicaloids. If you have had to hide your magic to survive. One reason why nonhumans are targeted in our world is because the majority of us are magical in some way, which humans see as a threat. But, I take it perhaps your world is not so harsh on magic, as you have just used it openly here–” he gestures with a sly smirk to Wil–“and most people who try to hide their magecraft would not use it under any circumstances, most definitely not when they are simply annoyed. I would know. I hid my magic so in my previous life…”
He’s starting to tell Franz that no, he knew for sure his landlady or her peers were not dragons or whatnot, but he gives up with a sigh. Most oblivious person on this planet. Not far from how oblivious ol’ Franz was in his day and age.
Wilhelm is regaled only with a frown - and he takes the tea, sipping delicately. If he can pretend the tea is good even with a hefty amount of rainwater in it, it’s because it is. It would have been too sweet for his taste otherwise.
“Mundane people over there in Japan, or anywhere on Earth really, don’t KNOW or don’t CARE they live alongside Classicaloids, which is really funny for some reason. Tchaikovsky and Bądarzewska are a very appreciated idol duo and none - or almost none - of their fans know they’re Classicaloids. Motes had played mama for a baby deer for like two weeks straight and everyone thought he was a forest spirit. I could go to the statue of me in the city centre and pose with it and besides a comment like ‘oh you resemble the statue pretty well’ nothing else would happen. It’s just the way of life and personally I’m more than comfortable with that.” He takes another sip of tea.
“We don’t have to hide our magic because by the time the piece ends, no one remembers really anything. You try recording that on a video camera, nothing shows up besides some weird-ass behavior. There are a select few people who are aware of musik and can remember its effects but the majority kind of forgets about it. And if you’re not Beet or Bach, you can’t actually summon it at will. Personally, it happens to me when I’m a great deal of anxiety or stress, but it’s not good stress management.”
themusiichouse:
What the hell do you fucking mean no Japanese people in Japan?
That’s it, any reasonable person would have thought. What if there had been no nonhumans in your world to begin with? But Franz’s braincells seem to all be directed toward his prodigious imagination today, which means that this conversation can only get even more cursed.
“So, us Lundai haven’t all been killed where you live…” Franz says. “It’s rather interesting that you refer to fae as myths, and yet Japanese people seem to be part of your everyday reality. Perhaps the Japanese people of your world have not rediscovered their draconity yet, and so they flew under the radar as humans. Or perhaps, instead of Lundai people not being dragons, is it that we have been mythologized despite our existing? Are Japanese people simply one of the mythological people who Europeans do believe exist, and somehow haven’t eliminated yet? Or is it more that you personally believe they exist?”
On Wilhelm’s side, the gears in his head have started to turn. He did see Frycek looking at his phone to fact-check a piece of info, and it doesn’t seem to have cleared anything up on his end…Maybe Frycek’s phone is still feeding him information from his universe. But if comparing the two phones would clear things up, why would he suggest that? This conversation–and the multiversal mix-up that he’s starting to sense–is far too entertaining.
“The Ryu could be a myth in your universe, huh?” he says trollishly. “Well, I like that a lot better than the thought of all of us Lundai being genocided. Know any good urban legends about Asian people? I’m sure my fellow Lundai would find them quite amusing…”
“You gotta be shitting me right now, Franz.” If someone in his world had heard this conversation, they would have assumed the worst about him, but Fryc was starting to expect anything from these two.
He opens the gallery on his phone and scrolls through to a photo of Kanae smiling victoriously after one of her swimming competitions, alongside Sousuke and her girls. Then he gives the phone to Franz.
“Here’s my landlady with some of her schoolmates. I’m pretty sure they’re not mythical creatures.” Well, Kanae could turn into a force of nature when she got pissy but otherwise she was just a normal teenage girl thrust into a very peculiar situation. He then turns to Wilhelm, still rained on. It’s really fucking funny, he should try that on Wagner when he got home. Little shit deserved a swirly of some kind.
“Well, miss landlady and Sousuke have talked about youkai before, but Hamamatsu is pretty peaceful and the urban legends are rare.” The Classicaloids themselves should have been some sort of real urban legends but they blended in way too well with the other people. “I have heard of Polish urban legends before, though.”
themusiichouse:
Never has he ever…He must be new to this universe, then. Very new. Combined with the fact he reacted so strongly to the mere sight of nonhumans, he must never have set foot in Sanctura, Asperion or Unima at all. Franz narrows his eyes, hardly believing what he himself has heard; a lesser man, upon hearing such things, would have assumed that yes, Frycek was going insane, that their version was the truth, not this strange visitor who claimed to be Chopin. What he said about his childhood in Europe made no sense. Even the most violently bigoted of the European Narsean Church, which sought to stamp out the existence of nonhumans all across the globe, would have at least acknowledged that nonhumans did, in fact, exist.
But what’s this? He was born in Japan?! Wasn’t that part of Asperion, though–and a part of it teeming with nonhumans as well? Well, there were all manner of nonhumans everywhere–Japan being full of kitsunes, tanukis, shinigami, tengu, you name it…some being far more visible in human society than others, but with humankind solidly in agreement that they do in fact exist. His behavior has been so in line with one who has never come to this universe, and yet he seems as though he’s telling the truth…
A dark idea spreads like ink across the landscape of Franz’s thoughts, almost too painful for a hybrid such as himself to contemplate. Ever one for passionate emotions, he feels his eyes growing misty at the thought of the anguish and terror that he assumes must have swept through Frycek’s version of the world, one which no nonhuman–for all their awesome power–seemed to have escaped…
“Something terrible must have happened to the nonhumans of your universe. A long, long time ago,” he muses quietly. “I am so sorry.”
Even the troublemaking Wilhelm looks solemn as he puts the pieces together in his head right now. So the humans–they rose up against the nonhumans–and every single nonhuman across the world was–and for generations it was covered up–or perhaps, the ancient sin was long forgotten–and then every human went around thinking…
“All of them?” His voice is barely louder than a whisper, as he looks first at his father then at Frycek with a grieving horror beginning to grow in his eyes. “Every last one?”
“They have to have been, right?” Franz looks at Wilhelm, then back at Frycek. “It’s the only explanation as to why you’ve lived in several countries where nonhumans clearly exists, and yet you were raised to believe that they didn’t. No nonhumans in your universe? Were you raised in a Japan without Japanese people, then? The Ryu, I mean…It sounds unfathomably lonely.”
He pulls up a Wikipedia article of his own, and shows it to Frycek–the Wikipedia page on “Lundai people,” and scrolls to a section that lists Chinese, Japanese and Draconid people (among others) as being subspecies of a certain species of dragon shifters. In this list are the draconic name that each people calls themselves, with the Japanese people calling themselves Ryu. As though Frycek has never met a Japanese person in his life, Franz clicks on the link that says “Japanese people” to go to the Wikipedia article on them, and hands the phone to him as a reference. Apart from painting a history of the Japanese people interwoven with multiple species and peoples from other worlds, it also refers to them as dragons multiple times throughout, with a whole section about the biology and magical abilities of their draconic forms.
Franz and Wil sit there in a rather somber silence, both contemplating the colorless existence of a world in which people like them–the Lundai, the first children of Uroníteo–had long since been extinguished. No Chinese people. No Draconids. And none of the many people they knew and loved as well. No Wolfie (a dire kitsune), no Tonyo (a Zufelin), no Odario (another Draconid), no Johannes or Minona (both fae)…
Good job, you two. You not only made this conversation even more wild to Frycek, you also just made it way more depressing than it had to be.
His eyebrow raises and his voice lowers, teeth gritted slightly. He’s starting to get frustrated. “What the hell do you fucking mean no Japanese people in Japan?” He could swear he has seen quite a bit of Japanese people, including in the house he was living!
Fryc takes the phone from Franz and scrolls slowly through it, trying to absorb the information. Most of it was familiar, the dragon-related bits being a little too much though. He gives the phone back.
“I mean, if you think it’s lonely, you should switch places with me and live for a week in that house. You’ll forget about loneliness real quick.” The mental image of this Franz and Wilhelm (who severely reminded him of Wagner but he almost managed to successfully forget that) trying to live with his roommates was seriously funny. They were too somber right now to even consider a joke.
character flaws meme;;
Flaws. We all have them. Even our muses. In fact, they often make for better, more engaging characters. Send a symbol to learn about one of my muse’s weaknesses!
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themusiichouse:
“You’re not going insane,” he says as he sits down with Frycek. “There’s actually been quite a bit of online discourse as to whether Chinese people are humans or dragons. If you aren’t on social media a lot, you might not have heard of it, although there’s plenty of discussion about it in the real world as well…Personally I’m of the opinion that we’re dragons, but I digress.”
That was very helpful, Franz. You totally cleared up all of friend’s reservations on the topic and definitely managed to assure him that he’s not losing his mind. More to the point…
“I did have questions about your origins, in any case. This must be your first time visiting modern-day France–or anywhere else in Asperion, really. What did they tell you about nonhumans where you’re from? It’s highly unusual for someone to say they stopped believing in nonhumans that have very clearly existed since the dawn of time–more unusual, still, to mistake nonhumans for humans dressed in costume. Even among the isolated human-only enclaves, I believe…” He puts a hand to his chin.
“Were you raised to think that humans are the only species that exist? The human-only enclaves tend to be…excessively humanocentric–” a very civil way of stating the fact they were incredibly bigoted against anyone who wasn’t human (or white)–“but I didn’t think it was to this extent.”
“Oh, what the hell,” Wilhelm huffs. “Who cares about all this multiverse crap? You know what I just realized? I don’t have to put up with this shit over here. You dun fucked up when you decided it was rain you’d curse me with. Guess what, I’m Chinese too, and Chinese dragons have powers over rain! Get ready to get your ass blasted with a whole world of wet!”
He points at Chopin, and the rain cloud leaves his head and begins to cross the table over to poor Frycek, hail beginning to pelt from the cloud in anticipation. But as it gets halfway there, Franz cocks his head at Wil, sending the raining cloud–along with the hail–right back.
“Don’t worry,” Franz says teasingly. “We’ll get you dried off as soon as you get home.”
“Franz, I have seen some truly brainrotting takes on Twitter at times. I have seen discourse sparking from a single photo. I had to remind myself that not everyone knew what a Classicaloid was and people would have thought I’m fucking bonkers for using my full name to yell at people insisting Tytus and I were just guys being dudes. But never, ever since I came back I have seen whatever you just said there.” Fryc shakes his head. Thanks for fucking nothing, old man.
“Asperion? That’s.......huh?” He takes out his phone to look the name up. Some sort of esoteric club nearby (in Japan at least) but that was about it. He decides not to insist. This whole shit was way too wild already.
“Well, as a kid in Poland in the 1820s, I liked reading fairy tales featuring some sorts of non-humans, but all the adults insisted they were not real and just some sort of metaphors. Later on no one actually talked about that again. I like believing in urban legends though, adds some spice to life. Wait, that’s off topic, sorry.” The cloud moving in his direction didn’t freak him out, instead he pulled out the baton, but it moved right back to where it was before he managed to take control of it.
“Man I don’t know what humanocentric enclaves are you even talking about? I was born in Poland in 1810, died in France in 1849, reincarnated in Japan some 167 years later. These are the places, that I know, make of this what you will.”
themusiichouse:
“Well, actually, about George…”
This situation is getting weirder by the minute. He has Chopin’s playing, and he’s connected enough with the identity to bear his name, but none of their memories are lining up! Something must have happened to make him forget, perhaps some sort of arcane magic from one of the human-enclave pocket universes surrounding the Three Worlds…And something just doesn’t feel quite right about that explanation, but it’s the only one he has. Still, though, if Chopin’s memory has been modified, he’ll have to keep an eye out. The man might need help.
“I can hardly see how one can stop believing in fairies when it’s always been quite clear that they exist,” he says. “Perhaps your memory has been modified, but I can assure you, everything I mentioned about our past is true–and that even though George was accused of being half demon, having such heritage isn’t a bad thing. You are right, though, that in my past life I was not a dragon shifter. I am in this current life, however. I’m half Chinese.”
Thanks a lot, Franz. That really clears things up.
Meanwhile, Wilhelm has turned around in a huff and, in a fit of impatience, is now ordering at the front.
“I’d like to have a double shot Sereyan espresso and a catmint brownie, please. My father will be having the spiced chai tea latte, and our friend here wants the Black Dragon fruit tea,” he says, still pissed at the rain pelting down on his head.
Did this little shit seriously just order for everyone without asking? He so did.
Well, he should have expected some sort of modification from the 1800s to nowadays (hell, how was the Liszt he knew a woman?) but that explanation really cleared nothing up for him. “Good for you, beloved. Still doesn’t fucking help.”
He looks around, wipes a chair and sits down, an eyebrow raised in Wilhelm’s direction as the little man orders the things at the front. Then at Franz again.
“What the hell are you talking about? Modified memory? I guess it could have been modified if I listened to like....a fucked up version of Nocturne no.2 but I didn’t?” What on God’s green earth is going on here?
“Am I going insane?”
themusiichouse:
His magic? At a time like this? The Chopin he knows can sometimes be of a rather frail temperament, but to summon magic with a deliberate spell when one is so distressed–that seems so unlike something that his Fryderyka would do. Around him and Wilhelm, the patrons of the café slowly file back in when they realize the rain has stopped (though somewhat to their dismay, as they realize their seats are wet). The servingpeople have already busied themselves with small towels trying to clean up the water, offering apologies to all for the sudden disturbance, while the owner glares daggers at Frycek–and while Franz stares blankly for a bit, dumbfounded at the strange response.
Yes, Wilhelm had a part to play here. But apart from Wil’s little interjection, it was a perfectly normal conversation. What else could have gone wrong…?
“Are you all right, Frycek? You seem quite shocked.” Yep, he clearly still hasn’t fully registered that this guy is from a universe where none of the things so casually mentioned in their conversation were real.
“Yeah, what the hell was that for?!” Wil cries, with the rain pelting down on his head. “Now look at me! I’m soaked!”
Franz gives Wil an exasperated look.
“Now don’t you make it worse…”
Fryc exhales deeply, but the little cloud stays where it is. “I guess? I mean, that was a lot of information that was just not true, or I guess in my experience wasn’t.”
“The ol’ Franz I knew was a lot of things, but not like...a mythical creature. Neither was Tytus. Or anyone really! We stopped believing in fairies and the like around the age of 14! What’s next, you’re gonna tell me George was like...half demon or something? She got the accusation quite a bit but I can confidently say she was fully human and our mistakes were fully human, that’s why shit went down.”
He turns to Wilhelm. “Beet survived a couple of days like this, you’ll be fine.”
themusiichouse:
A…convention? How curious he should say that. Perhaps the comment is microaggressive, but it’s not a mistake one can easily make; while some magical costumes and illusions of nonhumans are expertly made enough to make one indistinguishable from the real thing, a great many of them are not. Besides, Frycek’s tone sounds as though he’s speaking in good faith, as though he doesn’t actually know what’s going on here. How strange. Even those raised in isolated majority-human villages can have plenty of encounters with nonhumans…Maybe he’s from an outerlying pocket universe around these worlds? Some of those are human-only enclaves.
“No, it’s not a convention,” Franz says, trying to whisper himself. “It’s–”
But unfortunately, his whisper is loud enough to reach the wrong pair of ears.
“A convention?!” Wil balls a fist, straining not to raise his voice in a public space. “What the fuck makes you think that’s okay to say in public? This isn’t one of those speciest-ass LARP parties where humans go cosplaying as nonhumans because they think it’s ‘fun’ to be marginalized people for a day. Can’t you see these are the actual people themselves? Damn! I always knew OG Chopin was antisemitic, but I didn’t know he was prejudiced against nonhumans too. As a dragon shifter myself, I–”
“As your fellow dragon shifter, I really don’t think that’s the case,” Franz interjects. “I for one can tell that he’s genuinely wondering. The Chopin I knew was not so careless around nonhumans–it would not do, after all, since his lover Tytus was half fae.” He turns back to his new companion.
“Where do you come from, Frycek? Are there many nonhumans there?”
He doesn’t even manage to process Franz’s last question, the information in his head swirling violently. This was real? These two were half dragons? What was that about Tytus? What was all this???
He steps away from the two of them, barely registering Wilhelm’s comments. There was a stingy remark on his tongue addressed to him but that didn’t come out.
Instead a baton pops out in his hand, seemingly from thin air.
“W nicości tworzę muzykę!”
The music starts pouring, literally starts pouring as the roof opens up and the rain gets in. The people (or better said non-people) in the coffeeshop run out, surprised, and the owner comes out of the back, making it very clear that he will not tolerate extreme meteo conditions here. Chopin hears that, especially since said owner was very loud, and makes a brusque move.
Now a little black cloud is raining on Wilhelm, like a cartoon character. It would be really funny, but there’s a cloud in his own head, too.
themusiichouse:
purplepianoman:
“It’s not really about being judged, it’s more like…..maybe my colleagues won’t be happy to find out you guys heard of them.” He wasn’t really sure of that, to be honest - Motes didn’t really care that much to be truly and completely bothered by someone else being him, for example. And Liszt would be all over her past self, he felt that deep in his bones. But what if his instinct was wrong?
The invitation did sound good, though, so he nodded in agreement.
“I guess you have way more stories to tell….”
“So, you don’t think your fellow Classicaloids would like us? That’s quite a shame. I’m sure we would all like them. In any case, I do have many more stories to tell. Well, then. Let’s get ourselves a little something, shall we?”
The café is a quiet little place, out of the way with a piano in the corner that anyone can play music at–and wouldn’t you know, someone there is tinkling away at Chopin’s Nocturne No. 2. Not Franz’s usual, but he did go there occasionally since he found the place quite charming–and he knows it’s the perfect place for a shy man like his friend. But one thing would cue Frycek into noticing that he was no longer in his world: if he hadn’t seen any nonhumans before on the streets, he would certainly see them here. Kitsunes in a more anthropomorphic form lounge on chairs with their multiple tails spilling out and around their seats. Two bipedal moth-people–Imago–flutter in a door several feet off the ground for flying people and sign excitedly at the sight of the fruit nectar special. Big cats from cheetahs to lions to jaguars mingling with tiny house cats of every shade–Zufelin, in both their elevated and dormant forms, some lounging by the café’s many windows in pools of sunlight while others ate raw-seasoned meat from plates or bowls. And then there are the Tua–horned dragonfolk with long reptilian tails and scales that plated their arms and backs. Of course, Franz and Wilhelm take no notice of the fact there are nonhumans in this establishment, but they don’t seem to have realized that Frycek isn’t from this universe yet, and so he would have no reason to know that such a sight was actually a normal occurrence…
“Right, well, here we are,” he says, gesturing to the menu. “I don’t come here very often, but I would personally recommend the spiced chai tea latte, or the ‘Black Dragon’ fruit tea if you don’t like coffee. I think I’ll have some of the latter myself…” He smiles. “We’ll take our orders, then get settled, and then–there’s so much we have to tell you about the Classica, it can’t possibly be fit in one afternoon!”
He expects a response soon after he stops talking, but he doesn’t hear one. Both he and Wilhelm turn around to find Frycek staring, transfixed, at the two Imago settling down at a table with a kitsune, drink buzzers in hand, stepping over a black jaguar Zufelin lying belly-up on the floor.
“What’s wrong, my friend?” Franz asks.
“What are you doing?” Wilhelm says indignantly, his hackles rising in the nonhumans’ defense–still unaware that Frycek was from an entirely different universe where sapient nonhumans such as these did not exist. “Don’t you know it’s rude to stare?”
He tried as long as he could not to stare at the people, or better said non-people in his surroundings. God only knew he had to not be fully human himself, but moth people????? Dragonfolk????? It was weird as hell.
The café was small, cozy, there was even a piano (he registered quietly the nocturne played there), but he found himself staring at the two moth people sitting at a table with a kitsune (he knew what that was from a mythology book Kanae lent him once).
Fryc only snapped from his trance when the little guy commented.
“Uh, um, sorry......just.....” He took Franz by the sleeve and pulled him closer to whisper in his ear.
“What’s this? A convention of some sort?” If he knew the theme was cryptids he would have come as the Wawel dragon.
themusiichouse:
This one’s firing back, is he? Time to turn up the heat.
“Oh my gods, you don’t know what a Classica is? You really do know nothing, do you?” he cackles. “Well, my fine purple friend, a Classica is a reincarnation of someone famous in the arts created by the goddess of art so that we can grace the world of art with our talent once again. We usually get powers associated with our past lives’ creations, too. Although I have to say, from what I can sense of your magic, yours are a little bit…well, let’s just say that if you do come to blows with Fryderyka over who’s the real Classica of Chopin, I feel like she’d beat you in a fight–”
“That’s quite enough, Wilhelm,” Franz snaps. “You should know better than to make jibes about another’s magical abilities, when your father here is constantly told that he is the weakest of the Archchosen. But yes, my son is correct. A Classica is someone who the goddess of art brings back because our art pleased her so much that she wished to see us create it again in the world, and who has magical abilities associated with the work of our past lives. There are also Classica such as myself created by other gods, though Art is the main source.”
His gaze softens.
“And that is why your playing intrigued me. I can hear a Classica by the indelible mark that their past life’s music leaves on their current work…I have never been wrong about whether someone is a Classica and who they represent, you see. But the strange thing is, while I was certain of your connection to Frédéric Chopin–which you have just confirmed–there already exists a Classica of Chopin, who I have known and loved for many years. And to hear that there is another Classica of me as well? Most intriguing.”
“What if there’s a second Classica for all of us out there?” Wil says, cutting in. “We should all have a fight to the death to decide who’s the real–”
“I said enough,” Franz snaps.
Damn, this guy REALLY is a little shit, huh? Fryc preferred not to inquire about this lady that may or may not be him, again. He turned to Franz.
“I mean, I guess we’re different. The explanation for us, aka me and my fellow Classicaloids, is that we were some sort of science experiment. The most familiar explanation I can come up with is someone tried the Mozart effect on test tube-grown people.” He cringed internally. Horrible, horrible expression honestly.
“We all had different fates in the end. Beethoven and Mozart managed to run away from the lab, Schubert also disappeared, Wagner and Dvořák were lost but then found. And then there’s Bach, me, Liszt - well, the other Liszt, Tchaikovsky and Bądarzewska, who stayed at Arkhe as some sort of performers, producers, whatnot. I was the first one to get away.” Wait, why was he telling these two people - one of whom was very liked Wagner but like 10 times more annoying - his life story????
“Oh shit......”
themusiichouse:
Incredibly familiar. That was–exactly the sort of response he was looking for, even though it created more questions than answers. That, paired with an unmistakable look of recognition in his eyes–he seemed more and more like Chopin in the flesh. Franz still hadn’t had the slightest idea of how this came to be,
“Perhaps we have, perhaps we haven’t,” he says. “It all depends on what you believe.”
Then comes the impudent man next to him who looks so youthful and fresh-faced he could be mistaken for a boy, and who was still a boy in many ways despite having reached a rather respectable age–
“Perhaps? I think you absolutely have!~” he says with an impish grin. “I wonder what my father’s wife Fryderyka would make of all this…Would she be upset that you’ve stolen her playing?” A mirthful laugh–definitely had at poor Frycek’s expense.
“Just kidding. I’m sure whatever you do is your own–at least technically speaking. Though how you managed to come by an identical talent to someone who already got hers from somewhere else, we may never know…”
“Wilhelm von Blumenthal, would it ever harm you not to speak?” Franz sighs. “There’s no reason to go shocking this poor man with these revelations.”
“What? That he seems like a Classica?” he says, the look on his face completely innocent–but having totally decided to drop that in on purpose.
“Wilhelm–”
“Sorry, Dad,” he says. “I just figured that if he is what he seems like he is, he’d already know.”
Franz put his palm to his face, and turns back to the stranger.
“I am sorry for my son, who seems never to learn not to speak out of turn,” he says. “How rude of him, too, not to even have introduced himself. But if I seem familiar to you, I believe my own name might sound familiar to you as well…” And not just because it’s a famous name, he thinks with a smile.
“Call me Franz. Franz Liszt.”
“Fryderyk Chopin, but you already knew that.” He stood up to shake hands with Franz.
“It’s wild, though. You’re Liszt, then there’s also my roommate Liszt....” He did take into account the comments from the little guy that accompanied Liszt, and turned to him.
“First and foremost, I am not stealing shit from anyone, buddy. Secondly, I don’t know what a Classica is. I am a ClassicaLOID, however, but that you just mentioned? Not sure.” Probably different scientists deciding to pull a Kyogo. Did that mean there was a different reincarnation of him, too? And these guys knew about that? Wild.
“You seem very much in the know of everything, so why don’t you explain that one to a dumbass like me?”
Character Development “Hard Mode” Meme: send a number & character to my ask box and I’ll write an answer/headcanon in reply.
Does your character have siblings or family members in their age group? Which one are they closest with?
What is/was your character’s relationship with their mother like?
What is/was your character’s relationship with their father like?
Has your character ever witnessed something that fundamentally changed them? If so, does anyone else know?
On an average day, what can be found in your character’s pockets?
Does your character have recurring themes in their dreams?
Does your character have recurring themes in their nightmares?
Has your character ever fired a gun? If so, what was their first target?
Is your character’s current socioeconomic status different than it was when they were growing up?
Does your character feel more comfortable with more clothing, or with less clothing?
In what situation was your character the most afraid they’ve ever been?
In what situation was your character the most calm they’ve ever been?
Is your character bothered by the sight of blood? If so, in what way?
Does your character remember names or faces easier?
Is your character preoccupied with money or material possession? Why or why not?
Which does your character idealize most: happiness or success?
What was your character’s favorite toy as a child?
Is your character more likely to admire wisdom, or ambition in others?
What is your character’s biggest relationship flaw? Has this flaw destroyed relationships for them before?
In what ways does your character compare themselves to others? Do they do this for the sake of self-validation, or self-criticism?
If something tragic or negative happens to your character, do they believe they may have caused or deserved it, or are they quick to blame others?
What does your character like in other people?
What does your character dislike in other people?
How quick is your character to trust someone else?
How quick is your character to suspect someone else? Does this change if they are close with that person?
How does your character behave around children?
How does your character normally deal with confrontation?
How quick or slow is your character to resort to physical violence in a confrontation?
What did your character dream of being or doing as a child? Did that dream come true?
What does your character find repulsive or disgusting?
Describe a scenario in which your character feels most comfortable.
Describe a scenario in which your character feels most uncomfortable.
In the face of criticism, is your character defensive, self-deprecating, or willing to improve?
Is your character more likely to keep trying a solution/method that didn’t work the first time, or immediately move on to a different solution/method?
How does your character behave around people they like?
How does your character behave around people they dislike?
Is your character more concerned with defending their honor, or protecting their status?
Is your character more likely to remove a problem/threat, or remove themselves from a problem/threat?
Has your character ever been bitten by an animal? How were they affected (or unaffected)?
How does your character treat people in service jobs?
Does your character feel that they deserve to have what they want, whether it be material or abstract, or do they feel they must earn it first?
Has your character ever had a parental figure who was not related to them?
Has your character ever had a dependent figure who was not related to them?
How easy or difficult is it for your character to say “I love you?” Can they say it without meaning it?
What does your character believe will happen to them after they die? Does this belief scare them?
themusiichouse:
@purplepianoman
“Dad, is that–”
“Yes, it would appear to be…”
Men of trained ears such as they would know at once what the man before them was. The delicate touch of the street piano’s keys, the full color of the music’s emotion unhampered by restrained refinement, the quiet yet powerful presence at home both in a humble salon and a concert hall…Only one man in all of history could carry himself like that without any effort, and it was Frédéric Chopin. But that couldn’t be right. The reincarnation of Chopin was already quite at home in Franz’s lovely mansion. And she certainly had a much different form than this red-haired man, who admittedly resembled the old Chopin far more…Could it be, he thought, that Chopin’s soul was somehow split, like Wagner’s? Perhaps not, as the current Chopin had never shown the signs of emotional and sometimes physical infirmity that having only half a soul could bring. And yet…
He can’t help but go directly up to the man after he’s done playing. He knows it would be a massive shock for another reincarnation of Chopin to see the form of his old frenemy so directly in the flesh, but perhaps this other Chopin’s response would be indicative of what sort of connection he had, if any, to the life Franz knew so well.
“You play quite beautifully, sir,” he says with a gentle smile. “Your playing reminds me of someone I knew long ago.”
Fryc liked street pianos well enough, especially if it was a peaceful and non-agglomerated day like today. Might as well improvise a little.
It felt like the good old days, only instead of being listened by different ladies and gentlemen from the high society in someone’s salon, it was just the occasional bird in the tree minding its own business. Luckily the passers-by seemed to ignore him. Good. As they should.
He almost started regretting not bringing some paper with him to write down the notes when he heard a voice complimenting him. Oh fuck people HAVE listened......
It was just surprising how striking this guy was. Fryc shook his head. It could not be...
That sure looked like ol’ Franz. But wasn’t ol’ Franz (Franzi, rather) living with him though? Huh, weird. Even weirder was that little kid next to him, that looked like Kanae’s silly ass brother that was not her brother. But he wasn’t gonna comment on that.
“Thank you, sir. You also do look incredibly familiar, for some reason. Have we met, by chance?” Maybe not now, but in a different place and time.
{Tag dump!}
{Do u like composer reincarnations? What about composer reincarnations with magical powers? Then this blog's for you. Brand new RP blog for Cho-chan from Classicaloid, formerly known as @/chcpxn or @/cainidepripas}