7th symphony

#canticumamoris #i'm laughing hahaaha #man you picked the wrong day to come to the forest omg

"Nein, your Father went to go visit with one of your Aunt Dian's lady friends . I do not recall the young lady by name, however." He clicked at his tongue then, while then holding his chin. He knew the young woman's name began with the letter M, but what followed after he was a bit hazy on. He never directly interacted with any of them, actually. Or he doesn't...quite recall meeting with them either-- quite the shame really. "As for him, well, he doesn't necessarily do so. " Sometimes it was better that he and the Sun God had some space; it'd be good for the both of them, really.

"Taking my daily stroll, actually. I was going to rehearse with the orchestra once I've returned near the well," He replied, his tone monotonous per usual, "...Since you're free, would you per chance like to assist?"

canticumamoris

{ ♫ Is this tale just my imagination? Or reality? — ;

canticumamoris

weave-your-sins

Shit shit shit shitshitshitshitshitshitshitshit—!!

Emory panicked, eyes searching for a hiding spot. Twenty three years and he still was absolutely frightened of his father. He was a grown man, honestly. But… how could he put it… both his fathers had an air about them that made them hard to approach.

Perhaps that was why they were together.

Ah, fuck. He was spotted by now, wasn’t he?

With a grunt, he turned around and frowned, not bothering to hide how displeased he was. Was he gonna get lectured? Here’s to hoping Uncle Ido could catch a hint and jump out to save him from that.

"Good afternoon, Father."

#canticumamoris #haha alright! 'w'#i'm laughing tho uncle ido omfg #he may not be able to save him from this one; he's likely having a beer with his new found friend seamus

Gold eyes lazily glanced around. The forest was awfully quiet tonight, the spirits that mucked about with their usual business were preoccupied with themselves. It was oddly quiet, too quiet for his liking. It was if something was incredibly off.

It was then he saw a tuft of blond, whizzing by quickly in attempt to escape. It took a good moment to figure out who it was.

"--Who?"

...Ah, it was Emory, galavanting off to somewhere again. He wondered where exactly where the child went off to. He knew that Apollo was doing something ridiculous, likely trying to keep that girl's son out of prison, or something. It was laughable that he didn't know those girls by their names, or at least surnames.

"Good afternoon to you as well, Emory. In a hurry I see?"

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"I understand that, sir." It’s a tiresome and grueling job, but Vatti was the one tasked to do it. Wolfram knows that he can’t just stop. Too many wrongs and injustices are being committed to innocent people and their only option of finding some form of solace after death is to go to—

Wolfram suddenly staggered back, clutching at his arms like a cold chill bolted down his spine. He shuddered violently and quelled the bile from spilling out of his mouth. What just happened? he asked himself, shuddering again as the cackle of that person faintly echoed in his mind along with a heavy feeling of familiarity of… something he just couldn’t remember.

His eyes widen to see the shift in the atmosphere. There was something certainly off about what occurred now. He takes a step forward now, without thinking and hurriedly takes Wolfram's hand for some reason. The conductor noted of the boy's change in eye color, from Amethyst to Gold and back. Hell, he isn't sure what came over him just then.

Something was fishy about this.

"--Wolfram? Are you alright...?" He pauses, realizing that his hand is tightly griped to the others smaller one; he releases it and takes a step back giving the child space.

"I apologize, for invading your personal space...I.." Whatever he was going to say was now lost, as he himself did not know what tumbled out of his mouth. "I was concerned," There we go.

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Wolfram nodded, smile fading ever so slightly. “Yes, sir. I had tried to match my sleeping schedule with his, but I would always have difficulty staying awake with him. When it had taken a toll on my physical health at one point, he told me to stop trying altogether.”

It had only been one and a half years ago, but at that point, he was still in the form of a young child rather than his current adolescent form. He remembered that incident clearly: the throbbing aches that only seemed to worsen and the quiet sobs that racked his body felt like it was only a matter of time that he would fall apart completely. The worst pain, however, was when he thought about how he disappointed his Vatti.

But as he cried to himself, Wolfram remembered his Vatti winding his blanket around his aching body before wrapping his own cold yet loving arms around him as he whispered words of comfort and reassurance. He kept Wolfram company the entire night, reading him stories in order to lull him to sleep and take all the pains away.

"But it’s really alright. I stay within the church behind the well and he comes in to check on me while I’m sleeping. He doesn’t know it, but sometimes I’m awake and I catch him sitting in the pew next to me while he waits for another client."

Silently does the conductor nod to the child. Strangely, the concept of caring for Wolfram is so very surreal. He feels as if he has done this sort of thing before, but rather in another life. Presently, he knows that he has done no such thing- yet anyway. Besides, if he were to start life anew, and be bound to his sins he could move on and possibly be able to do this sort of thing.

Yet, currently he wasn't able to move forward. It was a pain, but he could not. There were too many sins to atone for. Ironically enough, as he thinks such - he still goes on about his business, conducting for the dead. He is shameless in doing so, and his life is without meaning without him commiting the same sin over and over.

"I see, I can understand why. To put yourself through that torture of ruining your sleep schedule puts toil on the body, creates unnecessary weariness. Yet, you wished to watch his performances, hm?" His eyebrow slowly raised then. " ...It's good to know that you're able to see him at times, with such a task it is difficult to stay awake during the morning hours." He knew from personal experience, after dawn broke out he found himself quite tired.

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All the worst-case scenarios that hurricaned around his head calmed into a lulling breeze of relief. Even more surprisingly, Wolfram had understood (generally) his other Vatti’s explanation about alternate realities. It obviously explained why this Marchen didn’t remember him. So he’ll take it.

"Th-Thank you for understanding, sir… I was just overwhelmed with excitement. You see, my Vatti and I don’t see each other often, even if we are quite close in location."

"Of course, that is...understandable, yes." He could feel it: the excitement died down. As well the informal address to himself as well. He didn't exactly mind of what Wolfram called him, as long it was something. Then again, he-- did know much about the boy, other then what was previously stated. Therefore he respected his way of approaching of this odd scenario.

"Is it because of his...line of work during the ungodly hours of the night?" He didn't even bat a eye. He knew, or at least could guess of what the child was talking about. The revenge tragedies, the conducting for the dead to lead them to get their vengence.

#erm..well i haven't rped as maer in awhile but #why not

I haven't seen much about you Märchen portray, but I'm pretty sure you do a great job with him, just like with März uwu

(( -- ah, thank you! ;v;'' skldjfkdlsjf ))

sodoffyabuggers

How am I doing as my character, and how can I improve?

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"Yeah, no one knows how you and Father ended up together either." Not even they had a clue, from what he could remember. It was the weirdest union anyone had ever seen, but somehow it worked. Somehow. What was equally surprising was how nonchalantly his Vatti passed his explanation as perfectly normal—as if everything was actually cleared up once he elaborated on his existence.

"But, um… you’re alright with it, Herr von Friedhof? Me being… your son?"

#wolfram von friedhof #oh mannnn #i hope so man

In all honesty, picturing himself with Amethystos. It was a odd sight, to be perfectly honest. He didn't want to even think of what caused for that to even happen. Nor did he want a lengthy explanation about how this child was created.

Speaking of Wolfram, what he found odd was that he wasn't exactly human yet was three years old. He knew that demigods were both humans and gods, and aged slower than humans. Gods retained their physical appearances for as long as they remained and were remembered.

"Of course I am alright. You are my son after all, I was only a bit surprised, really. Since currently I am unaware of any children I may have presently. However, I can only come up with that I am your father but I am not, I am a different Märchen, from a different time or alternate reality." He pauses then, a thought comes to mind, " Regardless of that, even though I am not technically your father - I will still care for you all the same."

The complexities of parallel universe children was so nerve racking. One would never know when they would appear out of the blue, and yell Father! At the top of their lungs and embrace them. Since meeting with those other children, that were allegedly his nieces and nephews, he had to come to accept that somewhere - in a far away place, that had children. Or was a relative to one.

"And please, you don't need to refer to me as Herr von Friedhof, Wolfram."

♪

♪ Kagerou Days (Heat-Haze Days) - Jin.

It was always the same, the never ending madness and cycle of tragedy. It always lead to the same ending, where he lost her. It was always because of his decisions to lead those men home, which led to his death and his mother’s death too.

Alas, he sought to correct this tragedy, by all means. Throughout this endless and sickening cycle, where the rays of brilliant warmth shone on his face - offering a better chance, future, life.

He decided to take it.

With this opportunity, he was weary of the path he took to home where his mother was. He was able to return safe and sound, soon ushering his mother out and later escaped from home providing no explanation whatsoever aside from the comment of ‘shady men approaching home’.

Yet unfortunately, even though he was able to escape from death now, he wouldn’t later. Where his beloved would be screaming, and clawing her way to escape from the depths of that damned well. While he, in the distant future would be walking down the aisle to be hammered to the cross.

#queries #wenig vogel #the empress celes #took long enough =w=

Music note~ (on phone ~w~)

♪ - Let's Kill Tonight - Panic! At The Disco

Death was always a tricky thing.

Especially to those who still waltzed with the Living. It was hard to banish them, to kill them - to keep them away. The dead were always roaming.

They were the same, almost. She, a malicious spirit who killed for pure sadistic pleasure and he for vengeance for those who died unjust deaths.

It had taken awhile for him to arrange a revenge tragedy. Since she chose to not share her tale of woe, he skipped right to the point. It had been directed at young men who dared to not take her as their little sister.

It started off, eeriely of course. The violins sounded as did the faint piano rift in the distance. Each victim was killed by her hand, in a graceful manner. They were tortured, mentally and physically until they moved no more.

And when they finally obeyed. The cycle of this tragedy kept going on and on, there was no end to it. And without him knowing - again, he too became her puppet, a toy for her own pleasure. Again was his head filled with lies and inconsistent memories.

And again, the conductor was deceived.

#i meant to do this awhile ago orz #queries #sorry for the lateness! ;;;#distortedlittlesister

relationship with your son?

"Depends on which one you’re…referring to. It’s hard to keep up to date with all of these children flying in from different parallel universes. With Wolfram, I feel the me who lives with him has a relatively close relationship. They’re a bit distant from one another, due to my line of work. As for Emory, mm, from what he has informed me of— our family is rather close and does a lot of music based things on a daily occurrence. I suppose we’re closer due to the me in that time no longer assists the dead, or I can be wrong.""

#hope free oath #queries

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There was no avoiding it now. Wolfram could never defy either of his parents, especially when they’re demanding answers.

"I am Wolfram von Friedhof, son of Herr Marchen von Friedhof and Herr Amethystos of Hades. Neither they nor I know how I came into being. I am three years old and, as you can deduce, age differently so it can be further inferred that I’m not exactly human. I do not have the ability to sing and cats make me uncomfortable. That is all I know about myself."

He laid himself bare in the presence of the Vatti that doesn’t remember him. All he can do now is await the dreaded response.

Well, well, well.

With his suspicions clarified, the conductor was quite contented with the presently given information. What threw him off was, well, Amethystos. He didn't dare to think that he'd get together with him.

"....Am.....Amethystos." he muttered to himself, his eyes seemed to widened upon the dark and sadistic man's name being mentioned to be his alleged partner.

Thankfully, given the fact he knew of other time jumping children he didn't seem entirely phased by the concept of this happening. Who would've know he'd have a son with the other. God knows how it even happened. Thinking about it, he...has two hypothetical children to possibly in the making. Emory and now Wolfram. Laurent doesn't count technically since he belongs to his other self, März von Ludowing. He is aware of the lad, yet tends to keep away due to any nonsense to befall either of them.

"Well then, that is quite something. " He replied to his son, "I apologize for earlier. I hadn't known." It's hilarious of how casually he waves this off.

#sleeping rose princess #queries

What was the relationship between you and your mother?

"We were close, to say the least. She coddled me a lot from what I remember, yet that was because of my poor health while I was amongst the Living."

#wangzihakuryuu #queries

What's your relationship with the last Actress?

"Mm? My relationship with the last actress? To put simply, it is rather…a long distant one. We haven’t communicated in a number of years. I’ve lost count."

the-nightmare-inspector

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the-nightmare-inspector

"Marchen von Friedhof," Hiruko repeated, letting the name flow off his tongue and familiarizing its sound. The speech patterns of this name are quite different. "Sorry if I mispronounced it. I’m not used to Western phonics."

Conductor of the dead, was it? It’s a lovely title, in Hiruko’s opinion. His own was just affirming what he was, although the term itself is extremely inclusive to those who are aware of Japanese lore.

This says quite a bit, however—about where he was, roughly. The accent is not the same as those of the Englishmen in his land of the rising sun. It was gruffer in sound, though the voice of the conductor himself was alluringly young like Asuza’s. Hiruko narrowed it down: German.

"So, Mr. von Friedhof, is it correct of me to assume that I’m in Germanic territory?"