Notes of a Prison [closed]

The cheerful music buzzed through the air, an automated delight projecting notes that danced in the sky of the courtyard. While their song was undeniably beautiful, it didn't hold any emotion. There was no soul behind the performance. So while it was vibrant it was also... dull. Unenticing, unentrancing. It was simply a nice noise to fill what would otherwise be strange silence.

Otherwise though, the courtyard was simply magnificent. The foliage seemed to be maintained to a status of near perfection--not a single plant seemed out of place. It all blended together like a masterpiece. Mackenzie couldn't think of why she had waited so long to finally enter this place, it was like an Eden all of its own.

The land that had morphed in so many ways outside of Roslare was almost crazy in comparison to this small pocket of perfection. It was comforting. The shades of green blended mercilessly, but each pop of color from every flower made it work. There was a balance to this place. Whether or not it could be disturbed was not a question she wanted an answer to.

Every step her boots made blended with the music, the click of her heels striking the polished alabaster stone. The usual dark cloak she adorned had been unequipped, revealing the rest of her class-related outfit. It was a short, dress-like brown fabric that clung to her frame, several guards made of a beautiful forest green adding accent. A scarf-like hood was also a part of the outfit. It made the cloak she usually wore almost unnecessary, but the cloak offered coverage for her legs that the outfit otherwise did not.

In general it was an outfit definitely equipped for warmer weather. The oversized, somewhat baggy hat was stored away for windier days, but otherwise it left quite a bit of her frame exposed. She couldn't say she hated it, especially in this place. It almost acted like a camouflage. Needless to say, no complaints were held otherwise. She wouldn't mind blending into her surroundings just a bit more often.

As her feet carried her further into the beautiful haven, her eyes were drawn to the massive tree adorning the center of the gardens. She was definitely drawn to it, having grown up in playing in the forests. Stepping up onto the stone confinements that most likely held the dirt the plants grew in, Mackenzie reached out a hand to brush the bark. The texture was so realistic she forgot for a moment she was stuck inside an entirely separate world.

But of course, there was always something to take her back to it.

With a fear of the outside world, Wolfgang did not have many places to explore. He woke up that day with the only hinterland being that at the edge of the valley, the castle that loomed over the cliffside of that green valley. Wolfgang saw it everywhere he went. It was massive, the wall a hundred feet into the air. Maybe he would go there. The castle was safe, right?

Of course, first he had a detour.

In the market, Wolfgang spotted a man selling instruments. Little drums, flutes--none of them interested him. Of course, on the wall...

"How much for the lyre?"

"100 bits."

Wolfgang bit his lip.

"I don't have that."

"Well..."

So Wolfgang spent the morning handing out flyers for the market, but it was worth it. By that afternoon he discovered the castle, and in turn, the stairs of the castle. About halfway there he regretted the ascent, assuming it the end and realizing he was wrong about 20 minutes and a collapsed lung later. His character didn't have much stamina. Perhaps he needed to upgrade that...

The boy reached the top of the stairs practically on his knees, wheezing, but his transgressions against his idea faded. Before him, a beautiful garden stretched. He saw it through the trees, the pink and blue and purple flowers dappling the vibrant green of the space. Insects whirred in the leaves, and betaflies fluttered across the warm grass. The boy's breath slowed. He smiled.

When Mackenzie had gotten there, the boy had his back pressed against a tree, sitting in the grass, the afternoon grinding to a halt in a sleepy bliss. Was this world so bad? Wolfgang had begun to convince himself it wasn't...

The boy plucked strings of his new lyre, a dark wooden craft, curiously stroking each string. He'd never played a lyre before. Was it that different from the guitar...?

As Mackenzie's delicate fingertips brushed through the natural artwork of the trees bark, she hadn't even thought of the idea of anyone else being in the courtyard. Why would she? It wasn't like she had ran into very many people who were, well... actual people. The rough texture had captured Mackenzie's attention long enough.

She wouldn't have even noticed the soft hum of the lyre's strings if it weren't for the fact that it was so out of place. Her mind had tuned out the song the musicians were playing, so it only snapped to the attention of sound when the pattern was disturbed. Her hand immediately withdrew from the tree, any trace of her presence completely invisible to the eye's detection. There wasn't even a speck of tree bark to be found upon her hand.

Mackenzie's focus shifted from the rather large tree to the source of the new sound. From obvious human judgement it seemed to come from the other side of the tree, so she shifted herself gracefully from her position back to the designated walkway. This was so she wouldn't disturb any more plant life around her, even if it was just simple grass she would have strode through.

Having to take less than ten paces to get to the other side, her azure gaze easily landed upon the source of the sound. Recognition immediately fired upon seeing him, this was the same person who had organized the gathering. Which, to her, had seemed to prove rather inconclusive. However, it was definitely beneficial. It was nice to be able to see everyone awake. Well, as awake as one could be at midnight after just arriving in completely foreign territory.

Her lips formed a soft 'oh' shape, the vocal chords of hers at a more or less complete loss to produce any noise of their own. She studied the instrument and the beholder, shaking her head out of her momentary daze. Crossing her arms, she fidgeted slightly with the sewn edges of her elbow guards. "Oh. I didn't know you could get instruments here." That was about all she could muster up to speak.

Wolfgang was in such a delicate, serene state. The boy was peaceful amongst the dandelions and betaflies, testing one awkward string after another. Individually, they sounded beautiful, but whenever the boy tried to pair some together, going off of his guitar strings, it just sounded...off key. Like the sonic equivalent of spoiled milk, or an apple oxidizing before his eyes.

Well, whatever. He had all the time in the world.

All of his plucks were soft and hesitant, as it was an expensive instrument. That was, until the girl announced her presence. The string he plucked cried out loud enough to scatter whatever wildlife hid in the underbrush, the golden grass and whatnot. The blonde boy looked up. Despite his surprise, his eyes were still weary. He was a few minutes from a nap.


"Not without some labor," he said, studying her, wondering who she was. He'd seen her before but didn't remember much. Yes, she was at the gathering. Wasn't she that blondie's sister?

The sound of every plucked string came into the air like a new face, trying to mold with the everlasting music but failing to do so. It was like the new kid who had yet to conform and find his place. She couldn't deny that it was beautiful, but his technique made her head tilt. It reminded her of a guitar almost. Living with her father, whom was a very musical being, she learned a lot about instruments. Her mother enjoyed playing a bit too, which made her long for the touch of home.

Kenzie offered a soft chuckle in response to his comment. Of course, for such an intricate and beautiful instrument some labor would be in store. "It seems worth it, at least."

To her, the lyre was the little sister of the harp. The harp was the grandmother to the cello, and the cello the mother of the Orchestra. She had seen all of those instruments in person, and every one of them sounded beautiful to her. Having picked the viola as her instrument to learn, the rich tone of every string playing back in her mind, it was interesting seeing another stringed craft that was similar and yet so different.

"It's really pretty. Do you know how to play the lyre or harp at all?"

"Do I know how to play?" he repeated, in an indignant, cocky tone. The boy set his arms up, in an overtly formal positioning. He began to pluck the strings arbitrarily, going at whichever ones were under his fingers as he moved his hands in blind confidence. It sounded terrible, with no tune whatsoever, but when Wolfgang stopped, he looked up with a cock of the brow and a smile. "Of course I know how to play the lyre." Of course, the lyre wasn't exactly a contemporary instrument. How many lyre players bummed around in Manchester, New Hampshire?

Mackenzie couldn't withhold her wince as he played the notes in an almost reckless pattern. The notes themselves sounded beautiful, but the pattern shattered that beauty. It almost hurt her heart to hear. However, his positioning was rather beautiful...

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts,a small smirk of her own played upon her lips. "Can you actually play it well?" She was somewhat interested in trying it out. "Mind if I try it out?" She extended her hands slightly, almost hesitantly. She didn't want to look like an idiot reaching out for the instrument if he wasn't going to let her see it. Of course, if he didn't it would be understandable. They most certainly weren't cheap.

Wolfgang's smile faded, and he bit the inside of his cheek. That wasn't well? He was sure that was right out of Beethoven's symphony. "Harsh," the blonde mused, shaking his head to the ground. Though, to her question, the sleepy boy shrugged, and handed it carefully to her outstretched hands. There was no way she would play better than he. How often did lyre players pop up? The boy closed his eyes, pressing his head against the bark of the tree.

Mackenzie just shrugged in response to his comment. Her blue eyes sparked with a bit of joy, and when he handed it over to her she let her fingers trace the woodwork. Every little bump and ridge gave clue as to the hard work that was put into crafting this, even if it was just made up of coding, it felt very real.

Her fingers then switched to softly plucking each string, taking care to listen to every note it played. G... A... B... C... D... E... F#... D... G... She had to think as to which notes to play. What did she want to play? She only really had one scale to work with, and even then it started with a strange note. Then again, she played cello and was used to her scale beginning on the low C.

With a soft exhale, Mackenzie took to trying an experiment of patterns on the lyre. She messed around rather swiftly, just simply playing notes she thought had a pretty pattern if played together. As she went through the ritual, she added a chord to the beginning of her phrases. Something about the strings beneath her fingers just reminded her of her cello, playing a soft pizzicato tune. Sure, she didn't have the cellos range, but this was close enough for her.

Finishing her little song, she waited for the vibration of the last string to stop before gently handing the instrument back to its owner. "I've got a music nerd for a dad." An innocent chuckle followed her words, her hand reaching back to rub the back of her neck.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," the boy murmured, opening up one eye, and then another as she progressed. How was she able to do that? Who the fuck played the lyre anymore. His smile drained from his lips, and the boy decided to rise, a little embarrassed by his slowness to learn the instrument. After all, he was a musician.

"Gimme that," he demanded with a red face, snatching the instrument back. He made sure not to touch the strings. He would mess with it later on in his residence. Perhaps this was the drive he needed to get good at it.

Her mind had been lost in the music, completely missing Wolfgang's statement about her playing. She had naturally found an ear for it, as if it was coded in her DNA. It wasn't as if she had even really touched a Lyre before - she could just name the notes and combine them. It was like a matching game to her.

Embarrassment spread onto her face like a wildfire in reaction to how Wolfgang retrieved his instrument. She felt bad now - she hadn't meant to one-up him in such a large manner. Honestly, she had just wanted to try her hand out at the instrument. "Sorry..." She ushered a quick apology, lowering the hand from the back of her neck to interlock her fingers with her other hand's.

Honestly, Mackenzie couldn't really seem to think of anything else to talk to him about.
Music seemed like the wrong choice, considering his obvious fluster over her ability. The only thing she could really think about was anything here in Roslare, or the Gathering. "So what's your plan for this 'game' of Ratman's?" She took a spot on the edge of the alabaster stonework that retained the soil, the stone cool to her touch as her hands rested upon it.

His plan. Wolfgang looked down at the instrument, and placed it against the tree he had been leaning against. He hooked his thumbs in the band of his pants, compensating for the lack of pockets. "Not much," he said simply. It was a work-around way of saying, "I'm kinda a coward." He had taken his weapon out of his inventory a few times, but only to oggle at it, to gulp and wonder how the hell he was supposed to fight with it. Just a few days ago, he was hanging out with friends. He was supposed to be fighting pop quizzes, not monsters...

He fired it back before she could respond.

"How about you?" he asked, looking down at her as she sat. Was she going for the end? "Don't tell me you're pretty, play the lyre, and can kick ass."

Not much? He had organized a gathering for everyone to commute. If anyone had a gameplan, she would've expected him to do so. Then again, also being a gamer herself, it was possible that he didn't have one. Her plan was to make it to the end - play the game to escape. What other choice did she have? She could always sit around. But knowing gamemakers, that wasn't how things worked.

His obvious flirtations for the most part were partially ignored by Mackenzie, but she wasn't going to let them go completely untouched. "I actually play cello, but I'm just going to get as far as I can." A soft chuckle came from the girl. "I think looks more went to my brother. I'm just the brains." Mackenzie's glance drifted towards her feet, a smile still on her face. "I can kick ass in a race, if that's what you mean." That was her code for, I can't fight but I can run like hell.

Maybe it was a good thing she was a Ranger. What path was she going to take? "I may run things with Shep, but I wouldn't mind having another companion."

"Shep?" He knew the answer to his ponderance as soon as the name left his lips. That blonde kid with the weird facial marks. He wasn't too much of a fan of him. The boy bunched his shoulders close to his body, as if it were cold, but the sun made his hair hot on his head, the back of his neck sweating. Man, they really got temperature down on the game.

"Is he your boyfriend?" He'd seen them together a lot. He began to recognize her face more and more. Yeah, she was there at the meeting.

Mackenzie had to place a lot of self-restraint on herself not to burst out laughing. "Oh no, just my overprotective twin." Her voice was almost a perfect balance between dead serious and completely joking. But she was serious. Shepard Herman was very much her twin. It's why she hung out with him so much, she knew him and he knew her. Plus, he was more or less her shield. Considering she was good for fleeing.

"We've just always been close." She offered a nonchalant shrug. Her hands went to messing with the small rubber band that secured the braid to her air, her dainty fingers tugging at it until it snapped away. Quickly, she ran her hands through her hair, the vibrant blonde locks filing out into long waves that cascaded down her back and over her shoulder.
"I guess in some ways he acts like it, I don't know. No one has ever really fancied me in that way,"