the mortal sun has risen and set a thousand thousand times, and ORPHEUS is yet bound to the earthly realm, the reincarnation loop continues. this time their mortal coil has taken the shape of REINA HARDESTY, a human born on MAY 20, 1994, a TAURUS and named SONNET LUI-CLAIR.
with ORPHEUS’ consciousness tucked away from their own, they have little indication of the complexity of who they are, and what they are, and that has only really served to add more confusion and questions. when, or even if, the barrier between the immortal ORPHEUS and the mortal SONNET is broken down, they will be able to harness the ability to charm people and wild animals & make trees, streams and even stones grow and bend towards them with the beauty of their music. until that day, as the ORPHEUS of LYRE, Sonnet continues to unknowingly influence the world and be influenced by, the immortal being within them, manifesting in powerful emotional manipulation via music (ie. Her lullabies may make you sleepy and her sad love songs may make you cry), an uncanny ability to always write a hit song, and perfect pitch.
in the meantime, Sonnet Lui-Clair is cisfemale using she/her to define themselves, and is 27 years old. life goes on for them as most everyone else’s does; working as a retired musician and studying music theory & composition at college, and if she can’t be found there, she can usually be found at THE RUINS, doing some off-the-cuff, acapella singing among the ruins and wildlife. they are originally from New Orleans, Louisiana and they now live in 𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐒. to date, Sonnet has been on magnetic island for 1 year.
+ PASSIONATE, EMOTIONAL, HARDHEADED
full background (in the read more) // headcanons // wanted connections
CHILDHOOD:
There’s not much to say about how Sonnet Lui-Clair grew up. If you ask her, she will speak of fireflies at dusk and sitting on the porch with her stepfather—the pair of them waiting for her mother to get off shift. She will talk about how her stepfather divulged the secret to his mama’s (her nana’s) legendary sweet tea. (If you’re wondering, the secret is about two pounds of cane sugar).
But ultimately, her favorite memories were not about what she saw or tasted. Nearly all of them were about what she heard: her stepfather’s guitar, strumming a silly song he made just for her. Her parents, dancing in the living room to a crackling vinyl record; the sound of both of them laughing because a little Sonnet is insisting on joining the slow dance. And of course, her mother’s singing voice, angelic and as sweet as her nana’s tea.
Her family was never ever rich but, all in all, her childhood was one filled with music, warmth, and love.
GROWING UP:
It didn’t take long for her mother and stepfather to figure out that Sonnet had a talent. The gift of music was in her hands and voice. Her stepfather said that he hadn’t seen anyone take to the guitar as quickly and as skilled as her, and he’d been in the Orleans music scene for a while. More than just talent, Sonnet had a passion. A passion beyond her years.
She knew in her soul, in her bones, from the moment that she picked up her first guitar: there would be no other fate for her. Her future was music, and she would imagine nothing else.
So as you can imagine, she dedicated a lot of her free time after school to practicing whatever instrument caught her heart, and training her voice. She wrote a lot of songs during that time; songs that felt like diary entries, with jazz instrumentals as the background to her true thoughts.
Needless, to say the Lui-Clair house was never quiet, as long as Sonny was awake.
At high school talent shows, Sonnet always participated and her songs would always bring her first place, much to the chagrin of her fellow students. And when she graduated, those talent shows became gigs, at first once or twice but eventually she had a semi-steady list of venues in the city that she could perform her songs at.
At one of those aforementioned venues, her life changed forever.
THE DISCOVERY:
The producer said that she was a rare talent. (A musician’s version of cheese in a rat trap.) And maybe if Sonnet didn’t have such lofty dreams—maybe if she didn’t want musical success as badly as she did—maybe then she wouldn’t have signed the contract she would live to regret.
But she wanted success, and money, and fame. What hungry, young, musician didn’t want that?
So, she took the cheese and the rat trap took its sweet time closing in on her.
LIFE BEFORE THE ISLAND/HER TIME AT ALL NIGHT RECORDS:
Sonnet signed with ALL NIGHT RECORD GROUP at just 19. She was bright eyed, and hopeful; idyllic in her views of the music industry. In her mind, signing with a record label meant becoming a rockstar, with instant success imminent. She thought that she was going to make a living making the music she wanted. But that wasn’t quite how things went. There was good, and there was bad.
The good: She got perks immediately. She was moved from New Orleans to Los Angeles, all expenses paid. She was given a check for a staggering amount of money—more zeros than she had ever seen in her life. She was connected with artists she had spent her entire life idolizing. Stylists knew her name, music video directors were interested in working with her.
There were parties, and drugs, and women and men wanted to be close to her. Some even wanted to love her—not because they knew her, but because they knew she was talented. And rumor had it, she was being set up to be the record label’s new IT girl.
And that did come to fruition. For almost all her time at ALL NIGHT RECORD, her musical success was apparent. Her first album “Stone Part” took a year to write and record, and it was a massive success. Lyrically masterful, and heavily steeped in the jazz influence of her youth, it was unique from anything else being played on the radio and she was proud of it.
When she came out with her second album, an album with a much more pop feel, the titular song “Hot Midnight” charted #17 on the Billboard’s TOP 40 for two consecutive weeks. She never breached the TOP 40 again but her third and fourth albums (now solidly in the pop genre) were still well received and fan response was stunningly positive. After 8 years of this, it seemed like Sonnet got everything she wanted.
But like I said, there was bad too.
The bad: Turns out, record labels can control the music you record—from the way the song sounds, all the way down to the lyrics. And unbeknownst to Sonnet in the beginning, ALL NIGHT RECORDS didn’t want the jazzy girl from New Orleans. No, they wanted a new money-making popstar, and she had the voice to fit the bill.
She didn’t like the pop music she was singing towards the end of her career. Or even in the middle of it. It felt shallow, and wrong. It was a betrayal of her dreams. And if you ask her, she will tell you that she should have left after her second album. That’s when the Label really started tightening the leash.
Work out, wear this brand, don’t wear this brand, wear makeup at all times (yes, even when you’re just going to the store). Take dance classes, and take extra dance classes because you’re so terrible at dancing. Go on this diet, take this juice cleanse, and on and on and on the criteria went. It was exhausting, but as her producer too often reminded her, she was lucky.
How many people would kill to be in her spot? And if she didn’t want to do what the record asked, well, there was always another brilliant talent who could replace her.
So, she stuck through it, did everything she had to do to keep her singing dreams alive.
But one person can only take so much, for so long.
A year ago, she parted with the label in a very public fallout. Some people in the public disliked her for it, some championed her. In the end, it didn’t really matter to her. She was done and she was getting out of Los Angeles and the music industry.
PRESENT:
She chose the Magnetic Island purely because she figured no one would recognize her here. A fresh start, a new beginning. The Island looked so different from the City of Angels, perhaps the people would be too. She didn’t build a lot of real connections in LA, just a bunch of acquaintances that wanted something from her.
With what was left of the money she had from the record deal, she bought a nice one story house in Hesperides Villas. She’s been able to go unemployed for a year now, but she’s starting to think of how to generate an income now that she’s away from a label. (She’s not much of planner.)
She’s getting her degree in Music Theory, so that should help get her some legitimacy for a job. Maybe she should offer guitar and voice tutoring? She’s still figuring it out.
The voice carries through the halls and rings in their ears with a haunting hum. It’s soothing, but almost terrifying at the same time. He can’t seem to find the source, getting the sound lost in the space around him, and then she appears, asking if he found her talent creepy. “A little…” Gabe admits honestly, “But not because it was bad, on the contrary. For a second there I thought I was being haunted by a small, very talented Victorian child.” Stranger things had happened on this island, it would not have been the first wild encounter that Gabe has had to endure.
“That was beautiful, by the way. Where did you learn to sing like that?” Gabe didn’t even attempt singing, his musical talents consisted of the piano and a little of the guitar. His mother used to sing to him a lot as a child, but that gift had not been passed on in life.
—
The laugh that Gabe drew from Sonnet was as light as a bluejay. She tilted her head back slightly, a bright smile on her lips. “God, imagine? That would be so cool. Terrifying, but cool.” She paused for a second, seemingly catching a thought in her own mind. “Do you believe in ghosts?”
She stepped closer, hands in her pocket, shortening the gap between them. “Aw, thank you. Uh...” She trailed off, searching for the origins of her singing in the archives of her brain. She could not find it. “I guess when I joined my church choir? But I’ve been singing forever—” Almost like it was born into her. “—like, when I was eight, I told my mom I wanted to be a rock star. It started very young. Do you sing?”
it wasn’t odd for andri to go to the ruins , it was were she did most - if not all of her thinking , meditation , tarot card readings and grading . there was something beautiful and chilling about the air and that called to her broken and dark soul . it was hard to explain but it was somehow ironic the way she experienced the universe just somehow knowing , blindly , the fate of people even if she couldn’t put her finger on it all . nor was it something she would wish to know . she had been sitting , for how long ? she did not know . maybe hours . when the calls started and startled her out of her focus . she peeked opened her eyes , sighing . she forced a smile seeing the other . “ not so much creep me out , ” she laughed , shaking her head . “ but my meditation is over , but it seems i’ve gone over for time so weirdly i’m thanking you . ” she looked down at her watch , it was getting late and she hadn’t even eaten since noon .
—
Sonnet felt an embarrassed flush spread across her cheeks. She had interrupted. Just then she got flashbacks of her mother, chiding her for singing in public. Your song is beautiful, darling, but you have to be considerate of others. Yeah, that lesson never really quite stuck.
She started racking her brain for info about meditation, but all that came up was superficial stuff that she had read on a blog a couple years ago, or heard from some of her friends back in LA. “You can go over time in mediation? I didn’t know that.” The few times Sonnet tried to mediate, she could only go a few minutes before becoming horribly, torturously, bored.
The singer stuck her hand out, a silent offer to help the other up from their position. “The more you know.”
he wasn’t a stranger to bumping into sonnet with a song on the tip of her tongue — she’s been around for a year, yet that’s what she had made herself known for already. and it was a nice thing, to be known for having a voice like that… if alex ever tried to sing, they would boot him from the island completely. the only time he allowed himself to sing screech like that is drunk during karaoke nights. so when she asks if she had scared him, he shakes his head ‘ no ’ gently, a small grin on his lips. “ i’ve come to expect your face as soon as i hear a singing voice. you know, one day i’m gonna be lured into the sea by a siren thinking it’s you — you’ve put me in quite the dangerous position here. ” he teases her, making his way over to her, getting closer. “ what’re you doing out here, sonnie ? besides out-singing the birds. ” he asks, putting his hands in his pockets, searching for this lighter to light that pre-rolled cigarette sitting behind his ear.
-
His grin is contagious—it must be—because in no time at all she’s mimicking the upturn of his lips. She’s half smirking, half smiling, as she rolls her eyes at his flattery. “Have I now?” She puts her hands behind her back and strolls to meet him halfway, mischief lingering on her lips. “Is this your way of telling me that you’d walk into the ocean for me? You know, if you want a date, you can just ask. No need to get wet for me.” She breaks into a full grin at her own innuendo, breaking the mischievous persona she had put on for a joke.
In a moment, she is back to her relaxed demeanor, shrugging as she pulls a lighter from her own pocket. In one fluid motion, she flips up the top of the lighter with her thumb, sparking a flame to life. She offers the flame to him, an invitation. “Nothing much, just writing. And singing. And failing at the former. What about you? Wanted a cool place for a smoke?”
open to all!
at the Olympus Nightclub
tw: brief violence
Maeve lived for nights like this. When the promise of a brawl hung heavy in the air, she was never more alert, never more eager, than she was at this very moment. With Alex and Charming both working tonight, it was only a moment of time before the real fun began.
Fate didn’t keep her waiting for long. The shouting match was drawing the crowd’s attention and Maeve was within arm’s reach when a bottle was thrown, a table overturned. She jumped over it. She would always win this type of fight, but not without a bit of showing off. That was half the fun, after all.
“Oi!” Maeve yelled at the man. “So help me, if you throw another bottle I’ll shove it so far-” He backed up, cornered, eyes darting to the beer bottle in his hand. She watched his knuckles blanche and had her hand wrapped around his wrist before he could smash the bottle. “What exactly were you planning to do there, mi armor? Cut me?” Maeve clucked.
“How ‘bout you and I take a nice stroll, huh?” He raised his free hand to strike her, but Maeve began to twist his wrist and he crumpled. She almost laughed, grabbing the back of his shirt and pulling him to his feet. She pushed him through the crowd, relishing his humiliation, walking slowly so that everyone had a chance to take their pictures or get it on their instagram lives. Maeve pushed him out the front door, startling the queue wrapping around the door. “Come 'round again and you’ll be leaving on a stretcher.”
She winked at the first person she made eye contact with upon reentry. “I don’t even know why they bother hiring performers- I can put on a show better than the rest of them."
-
The retired musician blinked and nodded in agreement, sipping her frozen fruity alcoholic monstrosity. The Neon Punch, she thinks it’s called. But she’s already on her second one of it so she isn’t quite sure. It could be Neon Peach, or something. Neon Beach? It does have a little umbrella with it.
Whatever it is, it tastes like peaches and oranges. A lovely combo. She can’t even taste the vodka, it’s that good.
“That was amazing! God, how did you do that? Jumping over the table and shit? What’s your secret, pilates?”
Lux had left her apartment with the essentials— her airpods, her favorite lip gloss, and of course Misty. She had grown quite attached to the rose haired tarantula given the short amount of time she’s owned it. She wasn’t exactly the warm and fuzzy pet you could cuddle with. Not with that attitude at least. Lux enjoyed letting the arachnid out if it’s case, often allowing her to roam around the apartment or hitch onto her clothes. Misty appeared to be feeling particularly stubborn today and clung onto the fabric of her shirt. Alright then. Having to run a few errands she figures there’s no harm in having her pet ride on her shoulder for the hour or so they’d be out. That was until upon arriving at their first location the creature had already wandered off. It didn’t take long for Lux to find her, the issue at hand was the new spot Misty had decided to settle on.
“Oh no.” She bites the inside of her cheek and approaches the other, Misty staying still on their back. “I need you to do me a favor and not make any sudden movements.”
-
Sonnet froze, one hand full with a juicy, fresh farmed, tomato. The other, clasping a basket full with other market goodies she planned to take straight home and turn into a big hot plate of comfort food. She had no idea what was going on, only that this was Australia and there were about a thousand kinds of animals that could kill her on this one continent alone.
“What is it? It is a snake, oh it better not be a fucking snake.” One had recently made it into her house and she screamed the whole time she dueled it out of her home. “I’m gonna fucking scream if it’s a snake.”
you never know with new clients. how they will be. and he certainty didn’t think this would happen. yet he stayed calm as the client raved and screamed. he didn’t do anything wrong, he acted like the perfect gentleman, like the perfect boyfriend to their needs. perhaps this was what they needed. to ‘breakup’ in a public space but in the most annoying way possible. most people would get angry as the wine was thrown into their face. but he let the red liquid drip down his sharp features and stain his white dress shirt. looks like he’ll need to go shopping again. when the person left, he made a mental note to never take them on as a client again before taking the napkin slowly and wiping his face. hearing footsteps and feeling wandering eyes, a heavy sigh left him. “i’m fine.”
-
There’s a misconception that poets are disconnected recluses, too consumed with their own minds to notice the world around them. But that’s not true at all.
Poets, especially the musical kind, are always people watching. At least the good ones are, in her humble opinion. After all, inspiration could come from anywhere; one table over, even.
So, yes, Sonnet was being nosy, following the argument from start to bitter end. This would make a cool song, she thought to herself. Scorned ex-girlfriend. Dripping wine, drawing blood with words motive.
But as the man started to slowly clean himself off, she scolded herself. Here she was, fishing for song inspiration, while he was having a rough night. She got up and walked towards him.
“Yeah, no, I can see that. Totally fine, just a little wet.”
She flagged down a waiter. “Can I get a club soda please?”
Sonnet turned back to the unfortunate man. “It should help with the stain, if you don’t mind getting a little more wet.”
“Do you, uh...want to finish dinner with me? I’m eating alone and I dunno, that was a pretty nasty break up. I won’t ask any questions if you don’t want me to.”
OPEN TO ANYONE
LOCATION: The Ruins
Time: Afternoon. Golden hour.
The setting sun bathed the abandoned Ruins in a watercolor glow. In regular daylight, the old buildings and railings were drab and grey, with the occasional section of red rust—evidence of its time standing at forever attention.
The only thing that looked fresh and alive were the green green vines that seemed determined to smother the man-made structures whole.
But in golden hour, the ancient grey buildings looked gilded. The vines turned into gold plated decoration, adding to the Ruin’s eerie yet magical appearance.
The birds and bugs sang their chirping and buzzing songs as dusk approached. And joining them in chorus was a voice—ethereal and powerful.
Ah ah, ah ah. Ah ah, oh. A rising and falling melody, ghost-like as it echoes through the forgotten command centre.
Sonnet strolls along an outdoor hallway, pausing her wordless song. She almost starts again until she notices that she isn’t alone. “Oh—Hi! I didn’t creep you out, did I?”
