There was initial hesitation upon the news in regard to the grandiose wedding announcement. Anyone and everyone would be attending. Parents had discussed the absence of their children to which Sonata inevitably made the decision to close school for the duration of the ceremony. Forlorn expression hidden privately behind carriage windows while watching the world move along making her way to the estate. She carried sheet music with her resting in a folder. The ride was a little bumpy and Sonata had considered walking the rest of the way – it wouldn’t have taken too long but somehow it felt out of place. The carriage came to a rickety halt shortly after following the braying sound of a disgruntled horse. “We’ve arrived Miss.” Came the coachman with a casual rapt on the door. Tucking a silver curl, dipped in lilac behind her ear, Sonata managed to force an amicable smile as she gathered the music following her thanks. Golden sights turned to the mansion feeling the sting of uncertainty settle in the pit of her stomach. This was far too grand for her taste. She’d much rather be busily grading papers or sharing the music with the children at the orphanage. Sonata glanced down at her simply designed dress unable to swallow the fact that she could very well be underdressed. Digits gripped the papers tautly and bringing it closer to her person. Christoph, this is harder than I anticipated it would be without you. Eventually she made her way after brief greetings and the needed directions towards the piano. She offered a genial greeting to other musicians and those taking a break. Slender digits gently swept over the grand piano while fine hairs stood along the back of her neck with anxious anticipation. Sonata was almost too afraid to touch such an expensive instrument and wondered if she should have brought her violin or other instrument she owned. Deep breath. She would find her composure and gently being to allow her hands to dance along keys. Music playing Her Dress No drinking because shes playing music and she wants to set a good example for her students uwu

Jahi

It had been quite some time since he had actually participated in a party rather than be made a spectacle of some sort. The last naming him as watcher of the lands of Dunmeath while he had simply intended to work as a means of security. He had to admit that the occasion they gathered for was nothing momentous to him. Once upon a time, he'd been betrothed, but before that hand could ensnare him, disaster had destroyed his homeland. He'd never even met the woman, had never laid eyes upon the one meant to share his last name. If he was to tell the truth (which he would undoubtedly) the loss hadn't bothered him at the time, her death hadn't even crossed his mind. The escapism that had come with it was also of little consequence to him. He'd barely batted an eye when his father had informed him of what he had arranged - because he cared nothing of it. He would continue to do as he wanted. It was for nothing other than a public image any ways - one that for him was already a shrouded, sordid affair. So it was that he had found himself to be naught but a wallflower while Mithras attended to whatever affairs he had. He supposed he could walk if he so wished to leave, but the urge hadn't become quite that strong yet, not while he was bayed by the light of day. Instead, he merely found himself enjoying the hymn played upon the ivorian keys of the piano. Interest piqued, he would drift towards the sound, arms crossed as he observed the woman and her fleeting fingertips. The piece held an almost melancholy intonation to it, and upon the spinning hems of dresses and suits alike upon the ballroom floor, it was most certainly lost in the uproar of the more happy tunes. Another waiter would pass by, yet another offering of wine which he would wave away in dismissal. "A water," he requested in its stead. Something that would hopefully not disagree with him overly and also force the flickering staff to pass him by. "-if you have one." He would turn his attention back to the pianist as the man bowed his head and departed on a search for what he had asked. "You play... well." He would compliment on a somewhat awkward pause as her song ended and his request seemed overly loud in the quiet that followed.

Temporary voice w/ disguise azazel | Image is his disguise. just a simple leprechaun here to steal your lucky charms and nothing else, thank you. No wine either, also thank you.

Her movements were fluid while her hands paraded the piano keys with such trained grace. Lost in the moment, even if only brief as she played along. The overwhelm of the estate became lost even if it was merely short lived and overtaken by musical chime. She remained unaware (be it intentionally or not) of the surroundings and the potential curious eyes that may or may not have lingered to listen. Caught in the moment of the music she felt her most comfortable despite the bittersweetness that followed with it. Her son would have wanted to pretend to dance like very nobles that meandered the floor. Or her husband would be sitting next to her trying to clumsily learn the keys to join in. Students giggling and trying to sing or hum along with broadened curiosity. It was the same with the orphanage after they begged for just one more song after each supposed last song. As the notes began to come to a slowing end, no sooner did she hear the orchestra return to their instruments and pick up a more jovial tune. You play… well. came the sudden compliment. Golden sunrise gaze would slowly lift to be met by the presumed outspoken stranger. Glancing around if but a moment to see if he regarded any other, it only then registered that he had addressed her. Her cheeks flushed out of humbled nerves. “Thank you, sir.” gentled words hummed sheepishly from her lips. A nervous habit exposed itself as her hands tangled themselves into the threads of her silver and lilac locks. Sonata offered the stranger a warm, friendly smile in some silent greeting. In truth, she’d assume none would approach without ridicule. Judging by the way this one dressed too – some unknown noble for all she knew – dressed just as refined which left her feeling even more underdressed. “Do you play also?” She asked uncertain if she was trying to break the ice or not. Of course, she would not hold it against him if he chose to wander shortly after his compliment. No drinking because shes playing music and she wants to set a good example for her students uwu

Jahi

Wine was only ever delegated consumable when it was paired with the ichor of mortality. In finer settings, there would be a gilded swirl to the mixture, a decadent menagerie he only knew as phoenix tears. It was normally served only with the highest of nobility, a show of wealth - and with that status power. This appeared to be the very same. He wondered, briefly, if this was not the true intent behind Mithras's insistence that they come to this charade. They could have surveyed the city freely, and yet it was imperative that they arrive here instead. Was the man perhaps vexed because they hadn't contacted his winery to cater such an event? The notion made a slight simper glissade against his lips as his simple request was alas met. He couldn't recall the taste of water or the lack there of some would argue. He had forgotten what a relief it was to quench the thirst after training or a long trek. It no longer provided that or anything else he needed, so he had deemed it unneeded. As was the way with most things from living days he had taken for granted. In the beginning, he had tried to maintain that sense of normalcy. He'd choked down food, water, fruit juice. Nothing satiated. Nothing eased the burden inflicted upon him. It only served to make things worse. Maddening. That's what it had become. Trying to cling to existence as he had known it was nearly enough to drive him entirely mad. “Thank you, sir.” His attention was snared by the soft intonation of the woman. Her cheeks flushed, her fingers winding within the plush silk of her pinned locks. Though her expression was genuine, broad when it came, this delightful simper. One he would reciprocate, though far from the enthusiasm hers possessed. Genial, reserved, slight. He was unsure how many knew his mannerisms here - how many had been present for more than a mere breath or so around him. It was difficult to deny the habits he had developed over the centuries, but he would make his best attempt. He had to also recall that in this state of illusion, his arms bore no likeness to the malady that plagued him and thanks to recent rejuvenation, they were as limber and fluent as any other limbs. There was no need to pull down the cuff of his sleeve as it slipped up lightly as he brought the glass to his lips. He didn't need to fix it to hide away the atrocities wrought to his flesh. Instead, he chose to focus on the distraction right before him. "Where did you learn to play?" His vocals were much softer than he was accustomed to as they departed his lips. Smoother. Though he held no notice of her self inflection, of her nervous preening over the gown she'd chosen. “Do you play also?” His brow furrowed softly in contemplation. Yes, he'd certainly played quite often once upon a time, but that also felt so very long ago now. "Mm, I used to. Not much these days." He afforded, sipping the water within his glass once more to cover the drawn pause of his contemplation.

Temporary voice w/ disguise azazel | Image is his disguise. just a simple leprechaun here to steal your lucky charms and nothing else, thank you. No wine either, also thank you.

It was rare she would ever come into contact with one who beheld the same similarities and genuine care for the taste of music. The knowledge behind it and the respect that came with it. At a young age, she could recall hearing the gentle sound the keys made for the first time when introduced by her father’s musings and the beautiful unmatched hum of her mothers lyrics. Her husband dared to tease her in their initial exchanges of greeting by calling her a siren. Sonata stared genially down at the grand piano, and loftily she would strum the keys in hopes to quell tides of nerves rising upon the strangers compliment, uncertain how to continue forth with the notion. Where did you learn to play? Quiet did the keys fall as she changed the music sheet to another. “My father was a musician and my mother liked to sing.” Her hands fell to her lap softly in the assumption she would need to wait to continue on with another composure following her own inquiry if the stranger was familiar also with the grand instrument. Mm, I used to. Following a brief pause to which Sonata gently tilted the crown of her skull slightly. Not much these days. Perhaps he was a busy man, doing whatever it was that nobles did. She could only assume such just by the first initial interaction with Aethelos. Though. she did find it odd that someone of his prestige would go out of his way to inquire upon her educational background. “I hope you are able to return to it sometime.” she offered a friendly smile upon her soft expression. “It is a good escape from the everyday I think.” She chuckled softly. Idly her fingers merely swept across the keys without actually playing. “Would you like to join me for a moment?” The question came before she even had time to think of even speaking or retracting the invitation. “Ah, I mean for a song if you’d like – I suppose that was rather too forward.” Mentally she was kicking herself for the offer and simply wished to just crawl under a rock then. These large gatherings were not her forte.

Jahi

She seemed flustered, as he watched her now, undistracted with the full weight of his attention settled upon her visage. Her fingers played over the ivory and obsidian of the keys. A rolling hymn followed the motion, soft and faint, but present. Had he unnerved her, perhaps? A slight tilt of his head would announce the drift of his gaze to the instrument itself, watching her careful strokes before returning to her countenance. “My father was a musician and my mother liked to sing.” She informed as her fingers would leave the piano itself and instead folded neatly upon her lap. Another quiet hum would lapse from him as he pulled another drink from his cup. "Do you sing also?" He would inquire, his interest vaguely piqued. He hadn't heard any songs of late, the last being the bard who had played at the queen's chaetae, though the lad had seemed far too.... distracted by others to continue on with his job. A waste, in his opinion, of time and talent. However,  even then he hadn't the pure luxury of merely sitting back and listening as he did here. The only thing he favored about this entire ordeal. “I hope you are able to return to it sometime.” He supposed that was a currency that not many here could readily afford. Time for mortals was a precious commodity, beyond doubt. In death, he had found an endless supply, and thus far, none had been able to rob him of it. Too much of it. A plethora to return to old habits, and yet he hadn't found the need to return to many things he had idly done in his days as a mortal. Her expression was soft, tender as she continued. “It is a good escape from the everyday I think.” He certainly hadn't thought of that. After all, he was still used as naught more than a front line soldier. He hadn't perceived music as a way to escape in his past, but then again it was just another thing required of him at the time. "Maybe so." Came the eventual relent. “Would you like to join me for a moment?” Before he could accept or deny the invitation, she would rush on in flushed abandon. “Ah, I mean for a song if you’d like – I suppose that was rather too forward.” He would shake his head slightly, the soft nuance of a laugh leaving him. "I don't think there's anything forward about asking me to play the piano, my lady." His present simper, undiminished, amused at her distress despite himself. He stepped around her, settling onto the bench. His fingers would subtly brush over the keys, searching the catacombs of his reveries to see if he could recall the correct placements. A note would sound softly, before he would glance to her from his peripherals. "There's no need to be so nervous, my lady." He would add. "I don't bite."

Temporary voice w/ disguise azazel | Image is his disguise. just a simple leprechaun here to steal your lucky charms and nothing else, thank you. No wine either, also thank you.

Do you sing also? “Ah, I suppose so.” she shrugged sheepishly, tucking another loose strand of silver behind a dainty ear. “More so for the children at the orphanage and the students during school hours.” Lest she was alone and minding her own would she occasionally hum a random tune otherwise surrounded by curious wide eyes with open ears listened. And if curious minds were not sitting, they were dancing jovially with no direction to their mirthful steps. It was a pleasant way to pass the time just as it was playing the actual music. Upon the strangers relent she merely offered him an amicable smile. Her cheeks no sooner reddened upon her haphazard invitation for him to accompany her with the piano. Fretful that such seemed far too forward between two strangers. Her husband was far more approachable with such matters and outgoing in comparison to her more modest nature. However, as mentioned previously – events such as this grand endeavor was not something she was all to accustomed to and felt horribly out of place. Sonata couldn’t help but wonder what it was exactly that vied Sir Aethelos to seek her out with the teaching inquiry. There was a soft chuckle that pulled her attention back to the presumed noble; I don’t think there’s anything forward about asking me to play the piano, my lady. Absently she shifted her weight as he came around the bench to seat himself. She moved over to ensure there was enough space for both of them. There’s no need to be so nervous, my lady. a small simper tugged the corners of her lips bashfully as she nodded; I don’t bite. “My apologies good sir, this estate is rather… overwhelming. Or it is being surrounded by those of higher society I suppose.” She relented with a simmer of reluctance. She wasn’t entirely sure how to piece her words together. “I am unfamiliar of such luxuries.” Her golden gaze trailed the keys, watching as he idly adjusted his hands upon the keys before striking a single note. She couldn’t help herself out of habit as she moved her hand to his, motioning his wrists slightly. “Relax your wrists some like this,” she ushered with her own.

Jahi

“Ah, I suppose so.” He relinquished another slight breathy hum, finger once more striking the same key, this one shorter, just barely sounding before it was gone. She tucked a stray hair behind her ear, a motion he watched through slightly attentive emerald eyes. He studied her then, thoroughly as she adjusted herself upon the seat. “More so for the children at the orphanage and the students during school hours.” Yes, he supposed, it made sense for them to have schools. Classes attended to breed further disobedience into their broods. The edges of a frayed freedom that many of their numbers had recently fought and died for. His thoughts strayed as he peered at that kindhearted stare. Golden, light the gilded light of the sun he could no longer feel upon his skin. He smiled, an action well perfected, taught through old habit and the necessity of performing a good farce for such times as these that he would find himself condemned to. Behind it, however, lay atrocity. Well masked, a perfected façade that outward eyes would be hard pressed to find a fault in. How many of those children had found themselves nestled within the orphanage by his very hand? How many had lost loved ones that he himself had claimed? Yet here they all gathered. Dogs. Every one of them. She smiled, too. "Perhaps I'd like to hear that sometime too." The words were light, a warmth within his tone that was so unlike the chilling nonchalance of the general at arms. She moved over, but it was not a flinch of wanting distance, merely that of... comfort. He allowed the echo of a slight laugh leave his lungs, just barely above a whispered chuckle. “My apologies good sir, this estate is rather… overwhelming. Or it is being surrounded by those of higher society I suppose. I am unfamiliar of such luxuries.” His attention did not leave her, nor did the illusion of gentle humor. "Oh? The only difference in high society is numbers, my lady. Numbers, and good intentions." His fingers would move along the ivory slats, feeling far more stiff than he'd have liked from an exertion of magic. They were far from dissipating in a grisly scene, but already the reminders of his shortcomings were present. The beginnings of a slight melody birthed before cutting off abruptly. General, why is your cat here? His stare would narrow, flicking in the direction in which he had sensed Osmanthus's presence. A rather... disagreeable development, all things considering. He knew that if the feline was here, then so too was Avarice, his newest fascination. Since her fine accommodations for him at her own home had been experienced, he hadn't seen hide nor hair of the brat. However, he doubted that was something the commander would indulge in. He's with one of my... acquaintances. She gives him treats, so he favors her. Came his silent reply, a hint to what he hoped the man would take her for. A feeder. Many knew that he did not hold those he drank from on a ball and chain, as he held no secret about his dislike of such treatment. It was also well known that he thoroughly spoiled his familiar. It would not be farfetched to claim that he allowed the little lord and his favored baby sitter free reign. So long as nothing was pressed and went awry. “Relax your wrists some like this,” his focus was drawn back to his present company. His smile returned, his palms rubbing lightly over the tops of his legs in lieu of his normal habit, something like an insatiable itch in the back of his mind as attention was brought to them. The barren feeling of skin not covered by his normal gloves furthering that notion of oddity. He would release the tension in a somewhat nervous laugh. "Apologies. I'm afraid my hands don't work as well as they used to."

Temporary voice w/ disguise azazel | Image is his disguise. just a simple leprechaun here to steal your lucky charms and nothing else, thank you. No wine either, also thank you.

Singing to her students was more or less a means of singing with them as part of their music lessons. A way to help understand notes better and the way they sounded. Then there was the way certain sounds made in different measures – the list could go on. Perhaps I’d like to hear that sometime too. Sonata merely chuckled dismissively at the idea. She’d not sang to anyone so openly that wasn’t under the age of twelve or thirteen in… well.. how long had it been since her husbands passing? Moments like this where she was in a surrounding crowd was where she felt his absence the most. It was overwhelming as she admitted in her apology whilst the stranger took a seat next to her at the grand piano. Oh? The only difference in high society is numbers, my lady. Numbers, and good intentions. She hummed her reply as she watched the stiff movements of his hands along the piano keys before abruptly stopping. Golden gaze blinked as she lifted her sights to him tilting her skull slightly. She would try to follow his gaze only to see the waltzing couples. She would try to coax his attention back, perhaps the time away from the piano was frustrating. At least that was the assumption she had, given how easily her own students often wanted to rescind so easily. She motioned her hands along the keys, playing a familiar tune in a simpler manner. Apologies. I’m afraid my hands don’t work as well as they used to. “That's alright." She came her genuine amicable smile; "We can start with something simple.” She retrieved a new sheet of music. Wrists rotated once and stretched her slender digits. “This one is the melody, and this here is the harmony.” Her fingers began to stroke the keys as they rang a gentle hum. Canon D Major

Jahi

All around them was the sound of beautiful music, something he used to thoroughly enjoy. From the harrowed strings of the soft harp to the upbeat tempos of percussions and other stringed melodies. Once upon a time, his evenings had been filled with such resonance. His sister practiced the cello as they all settled around the hearth once their days were done. His brother would complain about his boring classes of etiquette and courtly matters while asking Theodred how his training was going. A brief exchange and then he would lament how he wished their places were exchanged. How he longed for a life of excitement, not trapped behind a desk in a stuffy office pouring over the details of the city finances. Those were days long gone. Days of mortality. Days that should have died with him so dreadfully long ago. Looking around here, he didn't see the same things. He witnessed humans, yes, but the vast majority lacked humanity. They turned their noses up at the poor and the starving that came to fill their bellies with overly decadent foods. Those who would have received a personal invitation being sure to maintain distance from them. Underlings. Peasants. They would call them. It was in this kind of setting that he was reminded of how horrid these creatures could be. How they were not all deserving of mercy and kindness. He also knew, however, that many of his own ilk deserved far worse. The man who had accompanied him a stark reminder. One who was currently silent in regards to his explanation. “That's alright." Came the soft coo of the woman currently in his company. Certainly easy to tell she was accustomed to instructing. Her style was much more.... lax than when it came to his own means of teaching lessons. "We can start with something simple.” She would shuffle around the music sheets, and the one she presented was far simpler in notes and number than the one on the rack before. At first, he wasn't sure he would even remember how to read the scores, but looking at it, he discerned it surprisingly quick. This one is the melody, and this here is the harmony.” He picked up rapidly, matching the absence of her own notes with those he supposed she meant for him, the motions becoming more fluent with the presence of muscle memory regardless of the time passed. "Perhaps I should play more often," He mused, as much to himself as to her, feeling the way the different motions eased the stiffness of deadened fingers. "Do you often play at such events?"

Temporary voice w/ disguise azazel | Image is his disguise. just a simple leprechaun here to steal your lucky charms and nothing else, thank you. No wine either, also thank you.