Post by Deleted on Apr 25, 2016 21:06:02 GMT -5
Martine heard the music in everything, from casual conversation to even the stillness in the night before she would finally drift off to sleep. Yet for the past few days she had been so uninspired by the world around that the Princess felt as though she was adrift in the sea, isolated in her own thoughts. A mood brought on by the fact Emile had been gone for so long leaving feeling a bit abandoned although she tried not to blame anyone for it. The sense of lonesomeness she felt was partially her own doing as in reality the Princess ought to not be so dependent upon another person for happiness. It was a weakness, one that could be easily exploited if found out by an outside party.
Yet as the depression had indeed so viciously killed what desire she had for creating today there was a momentary flicker of life. The nothingness she had been feeling brought about a fit of irritation, anger, and frustration that needed to be exorcised from her body. It wasn’t directed towards any one person, but rather the sheer apathy that had been vexing her the past few days. Martine was royalty, she was the worshiper of a living god, and heard the whispers of the divine muse so how could she be so empty of thought? That anger, and determine is what drove the virtuoso to her music room, to purge herself of the wickedness of ineptitude.
The staccato notes that boomed down the hallway gave indication of the passionate emotion that flowed from the performer's fingertips. Yet how truly odd would it be if any who knew Martine where to walk in on this performance seeing how the normally refined, poised, and seemingly kind young woman played with such intensity. Still if one were to look at her they would see that her lovely, long blonde hair was perfectly pulled back into a braided updo with gold and pearl pins keeping it neatly into place. Her elegant dress a vibrant gold that shimmered in the sunlight peeking in through the windows of the music room. One would also notice that whatever song it was the young woman was playing it wasn't something that was penned to parchment or paper, but rather straight from the mind of this seemingly perfect little doll.
Clara Delamara - Open
Yet as the depression had indeed so viciously killed what desire she had for creating today there was a momentary flicker of life. The nothingness she had been feeling brought about a fit of irritation, anger, and frustration that needed to be exorcised from her body. It wasn’t directed towards any one person, but rather the sheer apathy that had been vexing her the past few days. Martine was royalty, she was the worshiper of a living god, and heard the whispers of the divine muse so how could she be so empty of thought? That anger, and determine is what drove the virtuoso to her music room, to purge herself of the wickedness of ineptitude.
The staccato notes that boomed down the hallway gave indication of the passionate emotion that flowed from the performer's fingertips. Yet how truly odd would it be if any who knew Martine where to walk in on this performance seeing how the normally refined, poised, and seemingly kind young woman played with such intensity. Still if one were to look at her they would see that her lovely, long blonde hair was perfectly pulled back into a braided updo with gold and pearl pins keeping it neatly into place. Her elegant dress a vibrant gold that shimmered in the sunlight peeking in through the windows of the music room. One would also notice that whatever song it was the young woman was playing it wasn't something that was penned to parchment or paper, but rather straight from the mind of this seemingly perfect little doll.
Clara Delamara - Open