They would have no need of bodies. There would only be the song, forever, pulsing through everything. But...
There, before them, was the audience. Without the audience there was no music at all. He was a musician. His purpose was to create and to perform, not to command, not to break. What was godhood compared to composition?
Music Meister's hand found one of Peter's wrists and clenched around it. The first song was the inspiration for this little race to find an infinite number of variations on the melody and spread them to the corners of the universe. The works of humanity were not imperfect copies, as the fools had surmised. The songs were exactly as they were meant to be, just as the pair of them were meant to be. They were beautiful.
Music Meister and Ragdoll carried the song out to its final note. Rising, wavering, floating until finally neither set of lungs could carry it any longer. The stars faded before the light of the morning sun. Heartbeats faded until the ecstatic moans of the acolytes and the gasping sounds of their own lungs were the only things left in their ears.
Colors streamed back into their proper places, revealing Billy and Peter together upon the dais. Billy stood again in his costume, royal purple wrapped around green silk. His musical note glasses were rimmed with delicate threads of gold, and the feather in his hat was the long viridian tail of a bird of paradise.
Peter beside him wore his stripes and diamonds, ruffled lace around his wrists. A crimson cloak with a high collar was around his shoulders. Inscribed across his mask were the bars of empty sheet music. Perhaps the notes waited to be written, or perhaps the ones there were now invisible. Billy was leaning on him, about to fall over as he stared numbly at the sky.
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branchandroot
no subject
Date: 2013-05-26 11:14 pm (UTC)There, before them, was the audience. Without the audience there was no music at all. He was a musician. His purpose was to create and to perform, not to command, not to break. What was godhood compared to composition?
Music Meister's hand found one of Peter's wrists and clenched around it. The first song was the inspiration for this little race to find an infinite number of variations on the melody and spread them to the corners of the universe. The works of humanity were not imperfect copies, as the fools had surmised. The songs were exactly as they were meant to be, just as the pair of them were meant to be. They were beautiful.
Music Meister and Ragdoll carried the song out to its final note. Rising, wavering, floating until finally neither set of lungs could carry it any longer. The stars faded before the light of the morning sun. Heartbeats faded until the ecstatic moans of the acolytes and the gasping sounds of their own lungs were the only things left in their ears.
Colors streamed back into their proper places, revealing Billy and Peter together upon the dais. Billy stood again in his costume, royal purple wrapped around green silk. His musical note glasses were rimmed with delicate threads of gold, and the feather in his hat was the long viridian tail of a bird of paradise.
Peter beside him wore his stripes and diamonds, ruffled lace around his wrists. A crimson cloak with a high collar was around his shoulders. Inscribed across his mask were the bars of empty sheet music. Perhaps the notes waited to be written, or perhaps the ones there were now invisible. Billy was leaning on him, about to fall over as he stared numbly at the sky.