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 Posted: Wed Aug 05, 2009 5:44 am
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Posted: Wed Aug 05, 2009 6:18 am
31 JULY 2009 -------------  . 01. the discovery solo RP 02:36AM The man stepped out of the cab, bidding an absent goodnight to the somewhat amused driver. He wasn't drunk exactly, but very .. very... pleasantly relaxed from an evening out with some of his closer companions. It had been one of his friends' birthday, and they'd celebrated after supper with a trip to one of the newest bars in London. The music had been fresh, and perhaps he'd had one drink too many--
--He stumbled, and almost tripped over his own feet as he stopped abruptly to peer in perplexity at the basket on his doorstep.
What on earth...? With thought a little hampered by alcohol, Damien leaned down somewhat unsteadily to peer at the basket with a bemused expression on his face. There was a basket in front of his main door, in the way of him entering his own home. Finally managing to angle his head sufficiently so that he could see into the basket, he abstractedly noticed a piece of paper before his attention was caught once again by the fact that there was a basket in front of his face.
At this point, his mind, having eventually processed through the fuzzy fog in his brain that he'd repeated the same thought several times in a row, abruptly gave him one clear idea.
Brilliant! I'll just take it inside with me, and look into it tomorrow.
Action followed thought, and within moments the basket lay rather lopsidedly near the first stair of the grand spiraling staircase that led to the second floor. The man himself was halfway up the very same staircase, unsteadily making his way to bed.
11:00AM "Good morning, my lord."
The somewhat dry voice pulled the man from the last dredges of sleep, and he opened slightly bleary eyes to find his butler standing discreetly near the end of his bed. Only breeding helped him stifle a groan as he realized what that must mean - that he'd somehow slept in, and it was much later than he thought. Moving with a swiftness that hopefully hid his hungover state, Lord Damien Christophe Veredi, the current Earl of Kent, sat up in bed and arched what he hoped was a mildly inquisitive brow towards his long-time servant and friend.
"Why it is indeed a good morning, Ben. Was there something important?"
It was a rote question, of course. Had anything of importance come up, his secretary would have notified Benjamin, who in his efficient way would have had Damien dressed and ready to deal with the issue, regardless of how the person involved felt about the matter. It had almost become a ritual between them on the nights when Damien returned home late - he invariably slept in on those mornings after, and Benjamin would always be sure to let him do so undisturbed, at least until eleven; lunch was always served at noon, and the butler firmly believed in the importance of the midday meal. Though unlike normal, today he felt that there was, in fact, something that needed to be dealt with this morning...
... Well, if it happened last night, it couldn't have been too urgent or it would've already come back to haunt me by now.
Dismissing the thought, Damien gingerly got out of bed and headed towards the bathroom, all the while attempting to avoid his butler's gaze. He knew he'd find Ben regarding him with barely concealed amusement and the Earl was very definitely not up to dealing with that this morning. His hangover was worse than usual today, perhaps he was getting old, or he'd just had more to drink than he'd thought.
As he reached the bathroom door, he heard the quiet click that announced Benjamin's departure and allowed himself a small sigh of relief. Pressing a hand to his throbbing head, Damien stepped into the shower and turned the water on at full blast. Today was going to be a long, long day.
11:17AM Stepping out of the shower moments later, Damien's gaze fell on the small basket of flowers laid out on the marble countertop. Something about it nagged at him, but he couldn't quite figure out why. Still frowning slightly, Damien reached for a fresh towel from the nearby shelf as he tried to think back to last night's events.
His still-sleepy eyes snapped open in startlement as he realized that indeed, something had happened last night. The basket! How could he have forgotten? What if it had held a baby, or a bomb, or something?
Damien caught himself just as he was about to step out of his own room, wearing nothing but the towel he'd been holding when last night's events came rushing back to him. Calm down, there. Where's that famous self control that you're supposed to have? Whatever had been in the basket couldn't have been too important, otherwise he would have felt it's effects by now. Damien highly doubted that Ben would have come in as if everything was normal if there'd been a wailing baby waiting downstairs. With that settled in his head, the Earl turned back into his own room to get properly dressed.
11:45AM "Fifteen minutes till the midday meal is served, my lord." Benjamin stood by the door to his master's study, looking curiously at the unmoving figure perched on the edge of the desk. His lordship seemed to be in some state of shock, holding the piece of paper in his hands with a gingerness that suggested its contents were dangerous.
Which it was, in a way. Having already seen the basket and its contents (the servants at Damien's household were not above snooping when things were left in plain view - and the first step of the hallway staircase was definitely a public area), Ben supposed that to Damien, this was probably an unwelcome situation. Though knowing his lord and friend, he also knew that the man would take good care of this Song... Ben smiled to himself as he turned away from the study to inform the cook that lunch would be served late. The entire household would be in for some interesting changes.
Rethe Phonne “Good day dear lucky Sir or Madam, or Sir and Madam!
I am here to grant you life, please take care not to disturb the sleeping sound within this orb.
It will be relying on you from now on.
Take care!”
Damien stared in mute shock at the piece of paper in his hand as he read the message once again before dragging his eyes away to frown at the pink orb now floating serenely on his desk. This... it was a baby! Sure, it wasn't a conventional one that wailed, but it was a life nonetheless.
Why me?
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Posted: Fri Aug 07, 2009 9:40 pm
01 AUGUST 2009 ------------- . 02. learning the song solo/journal 09:30AM Putting the phone softly back into its cradle after a long early-morning international call, Damien leaned back in the plush leather chair and steepled his fingers under his chin. It was good to know his investments in Asia were going smoothly. Now if only the Americans market could be just as stable...
His chain of thought stopped as his gaze lit upon the pink orb on his desk. Was it just his imagination, or was it.. hovering over his open notebook? Damien could've sworn he'd laid the orb gently on the other corner of his desk earlier this morning. It had been a full day already, and he still wasn't sure what to do with the thing. The orb hovered... quietly. Sometimes, when Damien was deeply concentrated on his work, he could almost hear strains of a cheery, somewhat annoying song coming from the direction of the orb. But it seemed like the moment he lifted his head to check, the music stopped.
He'd asked his secretary to look up as much information she could find on this Rethe Phonne and the existence of these.. Songs, but as Susan was a busy woman, he would have to wait until she'd cleared off the more important things before attacking this new request of his. There was no life and death situation involved as far as either of them could tell, nor was it a matter of losing or gaining a couple million pounds...
"Super..."
Damien was jerked out of his rambling thoughts by the orb, which had now floated over to sit smack dab in the middle of his desk, right on top of the papers he'd been looking at during the conference call.
"Pardon me?"
"P...precocious! Sound .. precocious!"
He could only stare at the now-bobbing pink orb in shocked disbelief as the musical voice floated like a jarring note through the study. There was no doubt now - the orb had to have been the one speaking, and possibly making the music that seemed to play just softly enough to reach his ears. As if taking his silence to be encouragement, the orb continued it's cheery up and down motion as it spoke - well technically, sang - again.
"When trying to express oneself, it’s frankly quite absurd / To leaf through lengthy lexicons, to find the perfect word."
The tune seemed vaguely familiar to the orb's one-man audience somehow, but for the life of him, Damien could not recall the rest of the song. Perhaps...
"What song is that?"
"I’m sure Egyptian pharaohs would have grasped it in a jiff."
It was almost as if the orb was testing him with a riddle. If he was correct in assuming that the words coming out of the floating ball of pink in front of him were all taken from the same song, then he was being given bits and pieces that he had to somehow put together. A challenge, huh? Damien found himself chuckling whimsically to himself at the thought.
"A little spontaneity... when the cat has got your tongue."
The chuckle changed into full laughter at the orb's cheekiness. It had been a while since he'd been so amused by anything. His guard down, Damien set aside his breeding and manners and leaned closer, speaking with a a grin still on his face. "The cat doesn't have my tongue, I just cannot figure out what song you're singing, you cheeky thing!"
There was a beat of silence, during which Damien had a moment of regret - should he not have spoken that way to it? - before the orb floated higher up, even closer to Damien's face.
And softly...
"Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!"
The song continued as the orb moved back towards it's usual corner on the desk, the notes drifting almost lazily towards the astonished man on the leather chair.
"Um diddle um diddle um diddle ay
Um diddle um diddle um diddle ay
Um diddle um diddle um diddle ay..."
10:03PM JOURNAL: DAMIEN
I have decided to name the orb Asher. It seems a bit strange, and as I write this down, even stranger, but I believe that the orb likes it's name. As yet, the combined opinions of Ben, Susan, and myself have been unable to determine the gender of the orb - do they have genders? - so Ben suggested, and I agree, that we give it a name that can be applied to either sex. Personally, given that it is a bright pink color, I have a hunch that it may just be a girl, but when I asked it directly after our discussion, the dratted thing remained cheekily silent.
After my initial surprise at hearing the song from the orb, I called up Susan and asked her to put more priority on checking into Rethe Phonne and the Song's origins. As for myself, I looked up the song, and played it in it's entirety.
I cannot be certain, but I wonder if perhaps this Rethe Phonne had sent such a Sound Capture to me as a joke? The song... to me, it is almost like a parody of those of my rank and class. True, the original song was written a while ago, for a movie that is set during the 1910's, however... even the thought that the upper class were ever similar to those portrayed in the song is something I find rather disquieting.
For sure, there is entertainment in it - one finds it hard to argue that the song has a catchy tune, and even I caught myself humming certain parts of it. But I would much prefer the more refined classical music that soothes and arouses with pure tone rather than this nonsensical song. There is no art in it, no history and background or refinement. But I am getting off topic here.
For the moment, I've left Asher in the study. It is one of the safest places in the residence, and quite possibly the quietest as everybody knows better than to cause a disturbance while near the area. Tomorrow, Susan has assured me that she will have more information for me regarding the orb - I must remember to call it Asher from now on. It will be interesting to see what exactly there is to expect, and find out if I have been going about this correctly.
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Posted: Mon Aug 10, 2009 3:42 am
02 AUGUST 2009 ------------- . 03. settling in journal 11:52PM JOURNAL: DAMIEN
Lord, it has been such a damnably long day.
It started off with Asher. I woke up at a decent hour, believing it to be just another day with business as usual - and all went well, until I stepped out of my rooms. I found Benjamin waiting for me, an annoyed look on his face. Perhaps that should have put me on guard, but as I had not yet had my morning cup of tea, my brain had not quite caught up yet. Obviously, this meant that I was not prepared for what came next.
Instead of heading for one of the dining rooms where breakfast was usually served, however...
He led me to the study, where I found, to my surprise, a small gathering of the household staff.
Apparently, that dratted orb had been singing all night!
Needless to say, the staff were not particularly pleased. It is a quiet area of the house, but not completely secluded. And nobody wanted to be hearing "supercalifragilisticexpialidocious" all morning while doing their chores. The instructions I'd left with Benjamin specifically requested that the study be kept quiet and left alone at all times unless I was there, so the staff had been enduring in silence.
Sometimes I truly dislike being the one giving orders. So many things can go wrong.
So with the entire household (by then, even those who had been otherwise occupied were now at the study door to see the spectacle) watching, I found myself in the unenviable position of having to discuss proper times for singing.. with a floating pink ball.
How is one expected to maintain any semblance of dignity when doing such a thing?
I'll not forget the line Asher quoted back at me as a parting shot for a while. For a being that is supposedly at an infantile stage, this orb of mine is truly quite cheeky.
"If you say it loud enough, you’ll always sound precocious."
Fortunately, an upside to that particular conversation was that it helped relieve some of the irritation in the staff. It is perhaps hardest to stay negative when there is something hilarious happening that one is involved in personally. I should perhaps be feeling relieved that Asher heeded my words on singing quietly so as not to disturb others. I would have felt even more the fool had the orb continued to sing at the loud pitch it had managed to somehow maintain all throughout the night.
After sorting that particular household problem, Benjamin finally allowed me to sit down and have breakfast. Let me just say, that first sip of tea felt better than it usually did.
He also brought me a folder put together by Susan, containing all the information she had managed to dig up regarding the Songs, and Rethe Phonne in particular. There were a few news clippings, some very vague rumors, and very little real information.
Some said that Rethe Phonne was a magician - and I am very tempted to agree. Who has ever heard of being able to create life out of sound? And yet there are also rumors that the invention was not his... Well that is all speculation, and mostly irrelevant. I did learn some information of importance, although the sources are somewhat questionable. One thing that all the facts agree upon is that Asher will stay in its current form for anywhere from three days to two weeks. Today being the third day, I wonder if perhaps the ruckus it caused last night and this morning is a form of development?
There also appears to be two categories of Songs - those based off of a natural sound, such as a wolf's howl, and those based off of an actual song. The Song's personality seems to be based off of - or affected by, nobody is quite sure - the sound capture. Apparently, as these Songs in orb stage can only repeat the sounds it was made out of, Asher falls into the latter category. I can only hope that the song doesn't affect its personality too much... Considering how much the song itself irritates and offends me, I can only imagine how much worse the living personification of supercalifragilisticexpialidocious would be.
Perhaps I am just overcautious and anticipating the worst. It... pains me a little to admit it, but it seems as though Asher's cheekiness is not always terribly timed. We did not manage to have another semi-conversation like yesterday, but I think I could get used to having another presence in the study. There was simply too much work today for me to allow myself the amusement of interacting with Asher. Strangely, it does seem to be able to sense my moods - managing to keep quiet for much of the time - and the occasional pert snippet of song cheers me almost as much as it irritates me.
One of the charities that I sponsor seems to have been running into problems lately. The Step Foundation, it is called. An associate of mine approached me several years ago about helping to support it, and it has been running extremely well till now. It is a dance-teaching programme that helps provide scholarships and schooling for talented young children worldwide, but the New York branch of it appears to have lost its main coordinator, along with several hundred thousand pounds.
I have requested that one of my American contacts look into it, but perhaps a trip there would not be amiss.
It has suddenly occurred to me as I am writing this journal entry, that I may have forgotten to visit a website that Susan had provided in her folder of information on the Songs. She left a post-it on the URL, saying that it was something I should check out whenever I had the time, but that she couldn't be sure if it was fact or fiction. I remember seeing it in the folder, amongst the facts and rumors, and making a mental note to visit it sometime during the day - but it must have slipped my mind due to all the complications with the charity.
Yes, tomorrow. As I have written it down here, now, I should be able to remember.
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Posted: Mon Aug 10, 2009 6:25 am
03 AUGUST 2009 ------------- . 04. finding another solo/email 10:48PM "Even though the sound of it is simply quite atrocious..."
The words were oddly appropriate, Damien found himself thinking as he stared at the computer screen in front of him as if it had grown a head. Although in this case, the head would be a that of a teenage girl. He shuddered a little bit at the thought, and cut it off before a more detailed image could form.
He almost wished he hadn't visited the website URL that Susan had left for him - the username "kay_babe" should have been some indication of what he'd be seeing, but this...
The spelling errors and the slang were driving him insane! His fingers itched to correct it, and yet he couldn't. He felt a perverse urge to see how many times he could find the word "whatever", but decided against actually doing it in case the answer gave him too big of a shock.
"I must be getting old, if this is how teenagers nowadays write."
"When trying to express oneself, it’s frankly quite absurd / To leaf through lengthy lexicons, to find the perfect word."
Startled a bit out of his shocked state, the Earl glared at the pink orb on his desk. "Yes, Asher, and your speech is so very, very uncomplicated..."
"Check your breath before you speak, in case it’s halitotious-"
A little taken aback, Damien paused in his contemplation of the website in front of him to look quizzically at the floating orb. But the orb paid him no attention, floating smoothly over his desk until it rested several inches away from the monitor. And quite suddenly, it moved - butting the monitor twice in quick, agitated movements. The push wasn't strong - the screen barely moved - but the action made Damien realize that he wasn't the only one bothered by what they were seeing, informative as it was.
"I wonder if perhaps watering you would help?" Amusement laced his voice as he regarded Asher. The information he'd been given hadn't mentioned anything about special care other than silence, and Damien was relatively sure that things were progressing along at a decent pace. The two entries from this "kay_babe" seemed to echo his current position - minus the screaming and the watering. Idly, he hoped that this clueless teenager's orb would turn out normal. He couldn't imagine how half-drowning and yelling at the Song could help its development in any way.
He himself had been occasionally playing classical music in his study - it helped soothe him while he was working, and he'd been hoping that it would calm Asher down as well. It seemed to work most of the time, as the cheeky orb would usually stay quiet for longer periods of time whenever he had the music on.
Sighing, he gently picked Asher up and moved her to the side so he could see the screen. For all that this "kay_babe" typed like an idiot, and spoke like a street kid, he sensed that she'd been genuine about having received an orb. Briefly, Damien considered writing her an email. The panic in her second post when she mentioned having possibly broken her orb seemed real, too. What he'd read indicated that it couldn't be done, and perhaps she would be relieved to find out?
Not to mention it would allow him to get in contact with someone who also had a Song. It had certainly felt a bit.. strange, not having anyone to share his experiences with, or compare with, except his household. (Damien hadn't quite gotten around to mentioning Asher to his friends, yet - he wasn't altogether sure they would believe him.)
"What do you think, Asher? Should I email her? or are you too offended by the way she writes..?"
Maybe it was strange that he spoke to his orb companion, but Damien had slowly adjusted to Asher's continuous presence in his study. It seemed a little rude to not consult the orb sometimes, especially on matters that involved it.
"She may be tricky, but she’s bloody good!"
"I'll.. take that as an agreement."to Kay_Babe
Hello Kay_Babe,
I must begin by apologizing for the unexpectedness of this email. However, my secretary came across your website during her search for information on Rethe Phonne and the Songs, and recommended that I take a look. I found your email there, hopefully you do not mind too much.
It appears that we are in somewhat similar situations, having been given these "Sound Captures" in the form of orbs from this "Rethe Phonne" personage. While I must say that my story has not been nearly as fascinating as yours, it has been quite an experience. With regards to your current situation - all the information that I have managed to get a hold of indicate that your orb is not actually broken. They are apparently incapable of breaking save for when they turn into infants. Hopefully that will relieve your worries somewhat.
My orb, which I have named Asher, has also been singing quite often, although I found that explaining the situation does seem to help - my orb no longer sings throughout the night.
I wish you the best of luck with your orb., and hope that if you learn of any useful information pertaining to these Songs, you can pass it along?
Damien Veredi.
"Here we go!"
Leaning back in his leather chair, Damien read the email one last time before hitting the send button. After a brief moment of debate he'd decided against using his title or offering any other personal information other than his name. On the desk, Asher was chanting softly in its version of a giggle. The email had taken much, much longer than expected to write - he could write a formal email, or even a casual business email, without a second thought. But writing to a teenager? One that seemed to have.. independence issues? That was a whole different story. At least Asher seemed pleased with the results...
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Posted: Fri Aug 14, 2009 8:07 am
10+ AUGUST 2009 ------------- . 05. continuing emails PRP
Please, Mr. Postman!
- Damien & Kaydence Dreama share much email correspondence!
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Posted: Sat Aug 15, 2009 8:02 pm
14 AUGUST 2009 ------------- . 06. the doll birth reaction 11:00AM Having finally settled himself and Asher onto the chartered plane, Damien was looking forward to a nice, long nap. He'd been up till late last night, making the final arrangements and getting all manners of paperwork sorted - it had taken quite a lot of charm and persuasion on his part to get Asher a birth certificate and the neccessary documents for travel. Apparently, one couldn't get papers for an orb. But fortunately, both his title and the letter that Rethe Phonne had left behind had been enough to convince them that sometimes, one had to bend the rules... a little.
As if knowing that they'd be going somewhere today, (which, in retrospect, it probably had...) Asher had been particularly restless this morning as well. Waking up the entire household again at 5AM was not the best way to start the day.
Now, the restless orb was sitting beside him, thrumming almost violently as the plane started to move. It was behavior that he hadn't seen before, but he thought that perhaps Asher was just excited to be seeing such new things. Certainly, he didn't sense any sort of anxiety or unhappiness from the pink orb. Hopefully the thing would settle down soon, once they were in the clouds and there wasn't much to see.
Leaning his head back into the plush leather seat, Damien closed his eyes and tried to shut out his surroundings as the plane lifted smoothly from the airstrip.
11:39AM Damien's eyes flew open with a start at the high-pitched repeat of the orb's chorus. It took him a second to orientate himself, and by the time he'd sorted out the noise, his surroundings, and the reason, it was almost too late as Asher shot out of its seat and flew right past his face, passing mere millimeters from the tip of his nose. Only quick reflexes and a sudden shift in the air currents outside prevented the orb from crashing against the opposite wall of their confined area, for Damien managed to snap out one arm and catch the orb, halting its progress as he struggled into a more upright position.
"Whaa...-" The indignified sound was out of his mouth before he could control it, though his hands were gentle as they pulled the orb closer to his body, absorbing the vibrations as Asher thrummed almost violently. A quick tug, and the orb was free once again, leaving Damien in a state of utter perplexity. "Asher?" Unbuckling his safety belt, he stood. "What's wrong?"
"Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!"
Free, the orb ricocheted from one end of their cabin to another, singing the title of the song over and over in a volume almost loud enough to stun with its sheer intensity. Standing in the middle of the space, Damien could only stand helplessly, feeling very much the clueless idiot as he turned, eyes constantly following Asher's movements as best he could.
"SUPERCALIFRAGILI---"
The pink orb exploded in a bright flash of confetti and sparkles.
Damien was certain that if music could have a visual translation, what he saw during that split second of absolute brightness would be the perfect representation of all that Asher was.
When the white spots in his eyes finally cleared enough for him to see clearly again, the sight that met his gaze was enough to send him stumbling, though the plane was now almost unnaturally calm and silent in the aftermath of the past few minutes' insanity. His mouth opened and closed once in utter shock as one hand reached out to steady himself against a nearby couch. "Ah..." he managed, before stopping and swallowing, attempting to pull the scattered remnants of his composure together.
What an impressive paternal figure he was turning out to be... The thought floated through his head, unexpected enough to allow him to snap out of his current stupor and truly look at what was before him.
Asher was a girl. That is, if that was Asher - and he couldn't find any truly logical reason why it wouldn't be at the moment - that was presently seated quite happily on the floor, fiddling absently with a piece of fluff attacked to a string as it/she regarded him with gently swirling golden eyes. Damien took a step forward as he continued his study. Pink hair and rouged cheeks were the next things he noticed, though in his befuddled state he couldn't for the life of him explain why that would appear strange to him - wasn't everything already completely, utterly out of whack? At least she was wearing clothes, though where they came from was anyone's guess. The logical part of his brain informed him that it was one less worry, though the thought seemed incongruous given the context.
Damien blinked. What was that strange... pattern on the girl's hands? Finding that he had moved forward enough to almost touch, he dropped to a crouch before Asher, reaching out one tentative finger as he brushed over the skin, finding it unexpectedly soft, but oddly disjointed. He frowned. Was it a defect?
"A little spontaneity... when the cat has got your tongue."
At the frown, Asher, who had remained silent during the scrutiny, suddenly burst out into song once again, startling Damien into losing his balance and landing unceremoniously on his a** on the carpeted floor of the plane. Seeing that he was now in a more approachable pose, Asher gurgled happily before leaning forward, plopping herself on hands and knees as she wriggled into Damien's lap and snuggled close, eyes drifting softly shut with one last tune.
"If you say it softly, the effect can be hypnocious."
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Posted: Sat Aug 15, 2009 8:04 pm
14 AUGUST 2009 ------------- . 07. meeting others PRP
Unmoving Angels
- Damien & Asher meet Hui & Sohne at a park in NYC.
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Posted: Mon Sep 14, 2009 6:14 am
14 AUGUST 2009 ------------- . 08. all things considered journal 10:14PM JOURNAL: DAMIEN
To say that today was eventful would be an understatement of massive proportions. I do not even know where to begin.
The morning began ridiculously early, despite the previous semi-truce that Asher and I had managed to eke out regarding her abominably loud singing during the hours before the household woke up for the day. In retrospect, I suspect that Asher had been trying to inform the world of the special occasion of her imminent birth. At the time, however, it was merely a disturbance nobody needed, particularly as I had already been up late during the previous day, attempting to formalize the paperwork required for Asher's travel to New York.
With difficulty, and not a little frustration on everyone's parts, we finally made it to the airport, though I had to soothe Asher with an email from Ms. Dreama in order to obtain its her quiet cooperation.
Asher exploded on the plane.
It sounds rather insane, does it not? But I do not know the correct term for Song births, or even if this would be considered a birth. All I do know is that now, rather than the somewhat adorable pink orb that kept me company over the past couple of weeks, I have instead a somewhat adorable pink-haired little girl now tucked in and deeply asleep on the large hotel bed of my suite at the Trump International Hotel. Said little girl also snores softly as she sleeps, though instead of the usual nasal sound, it is little tidbits of lyrics that seem to whisper through her bright pink lips.
At least, I know know the gender of the Song I have been entrusted with.
I will not recount what occurred while on the plane - that particular incident will remain etched in my memory regardless of time - nor the minor shopping spree that followed, as we now have the large stuffed lollipop to show for it.
One thing that is noteworthy, however, is the discovery that Asher does indeed have some sort of magical ability. I feel rather absurd putting this all into writing, but all things considered, perhaps this is not so ridiculous as it seems. While we were shopping with Hui and Sohne, we learned that Asher has the ability to manifest things. I do not know how extensive this particular skill is, and I doubt that Asher can enlighten us given her current baby-stage, but she did manage to create a miniature version of the tall black hats that the uniformed staff at FAO Schwarz. Thankfully, Hui's quick reaction saved us from any possible commotion, though I wonder what the people who saw us must think - Lord Damien Christophe Veredi, carrying a pink-haired child.
The meeting that I had to attend went relatively smoothly in comparison to the rest of the day. Bloody hell, anything would have gone well when placed against the other events of the day, but it did, in fact, go better than I expected. The other staff at the Step Foundation were able to shed some additional light onto the events that lead to the departure of head coordinator, and now we can begin the process of screening possible candidates to replace him.
Asher went with me, of course. Fortunately there were teachers at the Foundation happy and willing to take her under their wing for a few hours while I was otherwise occupied. They told me afterward that Asher was a sweet child, and easy to look out for. Whether they were merely saying it due to my position, or because it was truth, I suppose I will learn eventually.
When we returned from the meeting, Asher and I spent some time, getting to know each other a little better. Granted, there had been quite a bit of that going on even during the time when Asher was still in an orb form, but now that there was a face and body to go with the disembodied voice, we made quicker progress and I feel as though there is more of a connection forming. For all that Asher was entirely not what I expected at all, (truly, what reasonable person would expect to end up as the guardian for a being that was human, and yet... not, in this modern day and age?) I find her attentions quite amusing, and the way she has of setting the stuffed toy lollipop on the nearest available surface before shifting to lay her chubby arms atop it is absolutely adorable.
Is this how mothers feel?
I feel pride, that Asher has an inquisitive, generally happy nature. A little astonishment, and if I must be brutally honest, perhaps a touch of dismay at Asher's inability to pass for normal, but that is very much overshadowed by the tenderness that threatens to overwhelm me whenever the thought of a little pink-haired girl crosses my mind.
10:47PM Setting the cap back onto his Parker fountain pen, Damien set it carefully aside before rereading the last paragraph of his journal entry. He'd decided to stop before his comments deteriorated into the stage where he would regret setting pen to paper, but what was already written indelibly onto the high-grade paper was already damning enough. Apparently, he was in a rather philosophical mood tonight, the events having taken their toll on his usually rigid control over his emotions.
With a sigh, he closed the thick cover of the journal before pushing back from the desk and heading towards the second bed in the room. Damien suspected that his true thoughts and feelings were still floating around in a haze of shock, and perhaps tomorrow would bring with it a fresh perspective, and things wouldn't appear so strange. A light touch of the panel set discreetly to the side of the bed dimmed the lights, and with a quick glance over in the direction of Asher to ensure the Song was still sleeping deeply, Damien settled himself into the soft mattress. His last thought before the soft oblivion of sleep claimed him was that things would never be the same again.
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Posted: Sat Sep 19, 2009 12:53 am
16 SEPTEMBER 2009 ------------- . 09. um diddle! solo RP 06:08AM Damien blinked bleary eyes at the ceiling before turning his head to the side with a supreme amount of effort. Unfocused blue-grey eyes flicked over the digital clock that burned numbers into his head before falling upon the gleefully singing pink-haired figure. 06:08 ******** AM. "Asher..."
The happily bouncing figure on the other bed paused in the middle of a particularly cheerful 'um diddle' and dropped her head back, head hanging almost upside down in - what seemed to Damien - an absolutely impossible angle to reveal inquisitively swirling golden eyes. "Diddle?" Asher had taken to using that particular part of the chorus of the song in order to express herself, a habit that Damien usually found to be quite endearing. This morning, however, was an entirely different story. The Earl sat up, sheets pooling about his waist as one hand reached up to push stray strands of hair from his frowning face. "For god's sake, Asher. It's six in the bloody morning, couldn't you let me sleep just this once?" Even breeding and habit weren't enough this morning to suppress the irritation simmering behind the polished demeanor.
Asher's head righted itself from its strange position, and the child turned to fully face her 'Dami', crawling towards the edge of the bed nearest to him as she did so. Her movements were somewhat hampered by the large stuffed lollipop she held in one hand but she managed, eventually settling down right at the edge with a soft chortle of glee.
"Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious! If you say it loud enough, you’ll always sound precocious..."
The childish voice trailed off under the continued stormy scrutiny of her Dami. Why wasn't he laughing with her, or smiling the way he usually did? She wasn't any different today, but Dami was angry. Asher's golden eyes began to swirl faster as she took in the rigid posture and thinned lips. While she'd never seen Dami angry before, she was absolutely certain that this was the case now.
"Um Diddle..." she inquired softly.
All sorts of thoughts - not very many of them pleasant - ran through Damien's mind as he watched Asher's progress across the bed. He was tempted, very much, to simply stand up and stride over to the little girl, yelling his frustration as he explained to her in explicit terms exactly why he was angry. Thankfully, a small thread of control remained, and was only additionally enforced by the anxiety he could see in Asher's dizzying eyes. The control that he had worked so hard over the years to develop came back to him in pieces as he ran through possible scenarios in his head of what he could say, what the results would be, and the effectiveness of said results, letting his mind play out the things he could and would never say out loud.
In the end, however, the anger merely drained out of his body and eyes with a loud exhale as Damien shook his head. Asher was simply too young to really understand the concept of remaining quiet, as the past few months had already taught him. The request had to be repeated every time, and no matter how patiently he explained, she stubbornly refused to stay silent for any period of time while she was awake.
Thankfully, unlike the true human toddlers and babies he'd read about in the parenting books he'd bought, Asher actually slept for hours on end and was able to eat simple food. There was a god up there after all.
While back under control, Damien knew his mood was still perhaps a little too unsteady for a full on session with Asher's morning hyperactiveness and so he stood, pushing back the covers as he did. Once up, he barely spared Asher a second glance before striding with quick steps towards the bathroom and closing the door softly behind him. A morning shower would do him a world of good, and would give him the time he needed to find his usual patience once again.
"Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious - Say it and wild animals would not seem so ferocious!"
The words were sung softly under her breath as Asher's head turned to follow her Dami's back before it dissappeared into the white and gold cleaning-room that he took her into several times a day. Dismay was evident in her face and poise as the little girl slumped sideways, landing with a soft 'woosh' of air on her side. One hand reached for the soft tail that she brushed over her own cheek thoughtfully, while the other remained curled tightly around the stuffed toy. A 'lollipop', Dami had called it, opening up a book called 'Children's Encyclopedia' and showing her the entry.
She remembered trying to bite her own, and finding it not to her taste at all. Dami had laughed, his deep voice rumbling through her pleasantly before informing her that hers wasn't real, and therefore she couldn't eat it. She'd been surprised, then, but then Dami had picked her up and taken her to a candy store where she picked out a real one and eaten it all up. It had been sticky, she recalled, but very very delicious.
Delicious. Asher rolled the word around in her head, though when she tried to say it, it came out as a faint 'diddleliddle'. She liked the sound of it, and was proud she'd managed to include it in her thoughts. Her vocabulary was increasing every day, as she flipped clumsily through the books Dami had bought for her, half reading and half stroking the pretty pictures. Sometimes Dami even read to her, putting her in his lap and holding the book out so that they could both see as his warm voice seemed to surround her with the words until she was part of it all.
Her contemplation was interrupted as the door to the cleaning-room opened once again. Dami walked out, looking much more like his usual self rather than the scary predator - ah ha! another word! - that she had been reminded of before. A little "Um Diddle!" of joy escaped her as she bounced over to the side of the bed closest to the cleaning-room and Dami.
"Diddle!" 'Dami!', she wanted to say, but it was close enough, for now.
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Posted: Sat Sep 19, 2009 2:20 am
17 SEPTEMBER 2009 ------------- . 10. dance over NYC journal 21:25PM JOURNAL: DAMIEN
We had an early night tonight. Asher was more tired than usual, so we went for supper as soon as we left the Step Foundation offices. Our extended stay in New York has caused me to become rather familiar to the area surrounding the Foundation and the hotel, and we went to a rather cozy spaghetti house that Asher and I both quite enjoy. She's asleep now, tucked in with that giant lollipop toy that we bought for her so long ago. We have gone shopping several times since then, and Asher has more than that single toy now, but it appears that she is still the most attached to that particular one. Would it be overly sentimental of me to suggest that perhaps it is because it was the first?
It has been a busy month. Today is really the first time since our arrival and the subsequent journal entry that I have been able to find a slice of peace and quiet with which to jot down my thoughts - that is not to say that the frequency of my journal writing is much better at any other time, but perhaps with the events over the past few months, there has been more of importance to note. Since Asher's rather flashy entrance into my life, I have been slowly growing accustomed to the Song's personality and quirks. Some days are better than others, but I would like to believe that we have reached a stage where there are more good days than bad.
We have now, after much trial and error, discovered the things that Asher finds fascinating enough to occupy her for any length of time over five seconds. Books, music, and candy.
Truthfully, I should have guessed. But things have been improving steadily since that particular discovery - there is now quite an impressive stack of books, ranging from children's picture stories to two-inch-thick illustrated encyclopedias, piled somewhat haphazardly in one corner of the suite. Asher could loose herself for hours on end, happily flipping through them, back and forth, sometimes upside down, sometimes backwards. I have no idea if she actually understands what is written inside, but she seems to find such enjoyment out of it that it almost doesn't matter.
I remember distinctly the sensation of surreality that I experienced while writing the previous journal entry - a belief of being in shock. Over the past month, however, that has essentially faded and disappeared, to the point where nothing about Asher seems strange or unnatural. I have even become inured to her bright pink hair and the stares it elicits whenever we are out in public. Several acquaintances of mine that reside here in NYC have remarked upon my apparently incredible ability to ignore the rude stares and fingers, but for that, I can only thank the impeccable breeding that my parents have managed to instill. (Were it not for that, curious onlookers and I may have already exchanged many a fist.)
If I could change one thing... I wouldn't.
Amazing, isn't it?
In any case, enough about Asher.
We've finally managed to get the entire incident afflicting he Step Foundation resolved, at least enough so that I feel able to return to London. There is a new manager in place, whom I have known for quite a while. Savannah Reed is a woman with a core of integrity, and I believe that she will be able to move the foundation forward in line with the intentions with which it was originally established. We have spent the better part of the past week discussing her plans for the current and upcoming years, including expansion into several other neighboring cities. It will be a good next step for the foundation's growth and continued success.
As for the Foundation's previous manager... well, my contacts located him in Canada. I would have very much liked to go up there and take care of the matter myself, but I have been quite effectively tethered by my rank and position. Unfortunately. We informed the police, and they are now working on the case. The situation is now out of my hands, though likely, not out of my mind until it is completely resolved. The money was intended for those who need it, not some piece of scum.
Even the mere thought of it irks me.
I think Asher and I will be departing from New York City very soon. Originally, I had planned to meet with Ms. Dreama and her Song during my stay, but I haven't heard from her since the last email from the airport leaving London. Hopefully she is doing alright, though it is a little unfortunate that our meeting will never come to be. Perhaps the prospect of meeting someone over the internet face to face is a daunting one? I must admit to finding it so, but my curiosity far outweighs any reservations I may have had. In addition, continued email communication has revealed her to be quite a fascinating character, and I sense that she is generally honest, if a little young. There will always be a next time, I suppose, if she responds again. While the Foundation is now returning back to normal, there are bound to be a few bumps and glitches during the transition period, and I anticipate having to return at least once or twice.
I wonder how Asher will find London - ah, look, we are back to the topic of my charge once again! It is a little worrying that the first month of Asher's introduction to life has been spent in another city; she seems to have become used to New York, and enjoys being out on the streets, but New York, for all it's busy nature, is nothing like London. It is such a magnificent city, with such a stately grace that speaks much about its history and identity. There is so much more depth there, in comparison to here. For all it's extravagant consumption and eternal innovation, America is simply lacking once it comes to the question of history and cultural development.
Well, we can only wait and see.
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Posted: Sat Sep 19, 2009 7:45 am
19 SEPTEMBER 2009 ------------- . 11. home for the first time solo RP 17:15PM They were home.
The relief at arriving here, in one piece, with no untoward accidents, hit Damien all at once and the Earl closed his eyes briefly, inhaling and exhaling deeply before stepping out of their car. He nodded to Avery, who had picked them up from the airport, and strode quickly to the other side to assist Asher. The little Song was glancing about curiously, head seeming to turn at unnatural angles as she examined her new surroundings.
On the way here, Damien had patiently explained to her - though how much she understood, he had no idea - that they would be moving from their suite at the Trump International Hotel to another place in another city. Asher had seemed to take the news well, though Damien was still half expecting an outburst or some sort of reaction other than this intense curiosity. Reaching in, he picked up the child, expertly shifting her to a one-armed hold as he closed the car door softly and turned full circle, allowing Asher to see their surroundings in its entirety.
"We're here, Asher. This is your new home now, and I hope you'll learn to love it."
The stone-paved driveway was wide, and surrounded on both sides by well tended shrubbery and flowers. Beyond that were trees and miniature shaded pathways, paved with large stones that led to the fountain bubbling cheerily in the middle. On the other side of the driveway stood the house. It was too big to be labeled merely a house, and if it had to be categorized would fall squarely under the 'mansion'. Sheldon Manor had been with the family for over three generations now, and to Damien, it was home - much more so than the family estates that came with the title of 'Earl of Kent'. The main doors were impressive, over ten feet high and made from solid planks of rosewood. As Damien finished his slow turn and began to head up the few steps before the door, they opened wide.
Benjamin stepped out to greet them, and while his eyes widened slightly at Asher's appearance, he was wise enough to make no comment. The entire staff had been informed of the Song's birth, but this would be the first time they got to see her in person, and they were all curious. Stepping into the foyer, Damien was amused to note that nearly the entire household were present, performing what were likely unnecessary tasks as they angled for a better view of the Song. The only staff member missing was Francin the chef, though that wasn't unexpected. He knew it would require more than the arrival of a mysterious and magical Song to pull the chef away from his pots and pans - the man was only ever happy when he was cooking.
With a soft chuckle, Damien shifted Asher in his arms to allow the others a better view of her, and her of them. His nod took in all the occupants of the room as he began introductions. "Asher, meet the other people you'll be living with." The concept of 'staff' was not something he was sure Asher had grasped yet, but he didn't think she needed to make that distinction at this point anyway. "This is..." Damien named everyone in turn, directing Asher's gaze to the appropriate person as he did so.
Asher was finding everything extremely fascinating! From the plane ride, where the clouds had been close enough to touch, to the airports with its hustle and bustle and fast trains. Being in a car was nothing new to her, but the view outside was so different!
The place she was now supposed to call home looked very beautiful to her, and she sang a few turns of "Um Diddle Um Diddle Ay" happily as Damien turned her full circle so she could see it all. It looked almost like a house from one of the storybooks that Dami had brought for her while they were still in the other city that people seemed to call an apple. She wasn't too sure why they would name a city after a fruit, but she wasn't there anymore, so it didn't matter.
She found herself a little overwhelmed as they stepped through the door, clutching tightly at the lollipop in her left hand and using it's round surface to cover most of her face as Dami chuckled. They seemed to all be staring at her! As the introductions went on, however, Asher's confidence began to return, and she learned that she actually enjoyed the attention. Everyone wore smiling faces as they welcomed her, and she felt like she was the most important person in the world!
The attention ended all too soon, with Dami taking her away from all the nice people and going up the curving stairs. Now that she was no longer focused on being on the receiving end of all those wonderful smiles, Asher leaned her head against Dami's shoulder as she started to look around her. This place was so much bigger than the place in the apple city! Though it looked and smelled different... it was better here, she decided, and nodded firmly to herself.
Damien caught the movement as Asher rubbed her cheek against the shoulder of his suit jacket, glancing down with a fond smile as he reached the end of the stairs and turned right. As he walked, he kept up a soft running commentary on the house and the locations of things within it, more due to his ingrained manners than for Asher. The little girl was paying him no attention, swirling eyes darting left and right as they passed things of interest to her on the way to the bedroom that had been appointed hers. He'd asked the maids to prepare the room in cheery colors beforehand, to help try and make Asher feel more at home, though he was still a bit unsure as he stopped in front of the slightly closed door.
".. and this," his commentary paused as he finally caught Asher's attention, "is going to be your room, Asher."
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Posted: Thu Oct 15, 2009 8:30 pm
25 SEPTEMBER 2009 ------------- . 12. speech growth reaction 11:00AM
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Posted: Wed Oct 21, 2009 5:40 am
18 OCTOBER 2009 ------------- . 13. traveling again journal xx mad xAM
(entry to come)
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Posted: Wed Oct 21, 2009 5:42 am
20 OCTOBER 2009 ------------- . 14. a circus, why not? PRP
Circus In The Sun
- Damien & Asher meet Cassie & The Twins.
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Asher's post titles will be in #cc0033
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