ecstatic-chrononaut

[ecstatic-chrononaut]

OBI-WAN KENOBI 2022 | dir. Deborah Chow

[ecstatic-chrononaut]

Endless EXU 23/???

[ecstatic-chrononaut]

one of my favorite genres of discourse is when people try valiantly to take fictional (and often fantastical) scenarios and compare them to real life standards to make them more problematic

[ecstatic-chrononaut]

30sec…

[ecstatic-chrononaut]

you all whenever i’m back on my bullshit:

[ecstatic-chrononaut]

Those entitled Millennials and their...

[checks notes]

desire for shelter

[ecstatic-chrononaut]

It's been a long weekend. The introduction of Nephandi to the situation has stressed Mika out more than she thought it would. It shouldn't have been that surprising that they're involved in the divisive and hostile atmosphere of Seattle. This is their bread and butter after all, their purpose in the world.

Mika collapses back onto her bed, violin left at her side, shoes and purse dropped on the floor. Her mind races as she considers all the things that have come to light in the past week. A spirit possessing a city council member, racist TERFs targetting her friends, killing a terrible would-be politician, and the Emerald City chantry infected with magical measles just to name a few. It's all a lot. Now they're adding Nephandi on top.of that sundae. She sighs and lifts her phone to stare at the screen. She should contact her mom and dad. They'd tell her that their plans are a terrible idea.

But they need to save the people in the Chantry. If the Nephandi are responsible for this, then they might have notes or other samples or an antitode or anything Nova can use. They need that information, right? This is important, right?

Her phone drops back to her side as her eyes move to the ceiling. "Is this what you went through?" She asks aloud. "A sense of dread and doom, like you are constantly walking into a trap? Like...you have the magic, so why shouldn't you be able to just know about everything ahead of time?"

She blows a gentle raspberry and lifts her phone again, staring at it. "I should tell mom and dad..." A pause, then a quick, "And I will. I just want to wait. Which is ridiculous. I shouldn't wait. But I don't want them to get mad. Which is also ridiculous. It's my life, I'm an adult, I need to be able to make my own decisions. Even when they're terrible." Another pause. "I'm no use to Nova or Bones in this situation, though. My skills aren't in espionage and infiltration, they're in being in the spotlight. Esteban would be a better fit than me, and I could just keep watch."

The phone drops, eyes focused back on the ceiling. A long silence stretches out. "But Josu said otherwise, and it would have been you that told him." Her chest fills as she inhales, another of those long pauses. "So I'm trusting you. Which sounds...absurd to me, considering our dance with Nephandi. But...if I shouldn't do this, I trust you would give me a sign. So...just...let me know if I shouldn't, okay?"

She lies in wait, eyes on the ceiling as she focuses on the silence of her apartment. She listens to the footsteps in the apartment above hers, and to the music coming from down the hall. She meditates to the gentle tick tick of her clocks forever stuck on the same minute. Time slips by with no sign, and eventually she gives in.

"Alright. Well. I'm trusting you in whatever happens. I really hope you know...well, of course you know. That's a ridiculous statement."

She sits up and grabs her voilin case off the bed. "Okay. Let's do this."

[ecstatic-chrononaut]

Grey. So many shades of grey, seeming to dim the bright light that is Mikalya Tayag's soul. From the moment her and her companions stepped on the train, she felt the monotony pressing down on her individualism, and her vibrant personality. She felt as if she might become one of the many women in white that all move with the same sad, deliberate motions over and over again. She watched as her companions drifted off, she tried so hard to keep watch over them for as long as she could before eventually even she too felt the pull of slumber.

It was the monotonous motions of the women, the landscape outside, and everything in shades of grey tugging at her like counting sheep slowly puts a person to sleep. It felt soothing, but she also felt a sadness wash over her when her eyes closed. Her dad said this would be a conversation with her subconscious...perhaps the meditative sadness was giving her an idea of what was to come.

Before long her eyes slipped closed, the final bits of wakefulness sucked out of her as she drifted off into a deep, still sleep.

When she wakes again, she is sitting in the little kitchen of her bachelor apartment so very close to Seattle Center. There is colour here, but even that seemed dulled out in a way very unlike real life. There was that hint of grey from the train reflecting through in every surface. She glanced around her apartment at the chaos: bed unmade, a half-empty glass of water sitting on the nightstand, some clothes spilling from her overstuffed laundry basket, and her violin and laptop sitting closed and clearly unused on her tiny sofa. The lights in the bathroom are on, but even they seem very dim. Her kitchen could use a wipe-down, and a large pile of dirty dishes sat in the sink. Even on the table, where she found herself drinking tea, there sat a pile of scattered papers and unopened mail, plus multiple scores of music she was working on at school that are buried far under everything else.

"You have too much on your mind."

The voice that speaks caught her attention for the first time. How did she not notice the person sitting directly across from her? Was it because it was her perfect mirror image? Except...this image of her seemed dressed differently, to fit the room. Her blue and pink streaked hair was faded, dirty and pulled into a messy bun and she wore the clothes of someone who was too disinterested with everything else to give a shit about her image. This is not the colourful, carefully put-together Mika that presents herself to the world.

Mika's eyes moved to the two teacups that sat on the table between them, both steaming hot with something slightly too pale. The cups themselves looked slightly dirty, like they were given a hap-hazard wipe-down before the tea was made.

"What?" She asked aloud. "What's...what's wrong?"

"You have too much on your mind," her duplicate repeated. Her voice is dull, disinterested. "Or maybe it's that you are too intently focused on one particular thing."

Mika felt her cheeks burn up as the duplicate spoke. "That makes no sense. I have a lot of things on my mind."

The duplicate snorted, and looked around the dusty and dirty room. "Bullshit. Look at this place. You haven't tended to anything in here in so long."

"That's not true. I tend to everything in here. I don't know why you've decided to keep everything in this state, but I tend to everything." She felt defensive, like how dare she accuse herself of such a blatant lie.

"Fine. Whatever. You tend to things on the surface. You put on a happy face and make sure no one knows any better. Jesus Christ, you are more like him than you know."

A small light flickered in her eyes, a light of desperation and yearning. She wanted to know more. She wanted to ask more. She wanted to...

"Hah! See. I told you. You are only focused so intently on one thing. As soon as I bring him up, you get that look in your eyes."

"I do not. Shut up!"

"You're obsessed with him."

"I said shut up."

"You always want the forbidden fruit."

"Shut up or I will make you shut up."

"You just can't accept the fact that you cannot have everything you want."

"Shut up shut up shut up."

"He's not going to love you."

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

There was a burst in her mind, of bright hot anger and indignation that she would ever say such truly awful things to herself. Her anger caused a blast of magick, papers flying, tea spilling over, and the chair of her duplicate flying backward.

"WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS?" She was on her feet now, standing over the fallen chair. She felt the fury building in her belly. "WHY WON'T YOU LET ME JUST FEEL WHAT I WANT? WHY ARE YOU TREATING ME LIKE THIS? WHY CAN'T YOU JUST, FOR ONCE, SHUT UP?"

Her duplicate stared up at her, unaffected by the shouting and screaming, or by the further mess Mika was causing in her own mind. "Why do you keep treating yourself like this?" She asked, gesturing around the room with a hand.

It seemed like that question was enough to put the young mage in her place. All of the fire and anger and rage building in her want out with such a simple question. She stopped and stared around the chaotic mess, which was now even further of a mess than it was.

"You were starting to make progress," the duplicate calmly picked herself up off the floor, even as Mika sunk back into her seat. "Your trip to Cincinnati seemed to help, healing from the Marauder bubble made you think a little more clearly...but then you went and did this."

Mika swallowed, eyes moving down to stare at the table. She didn't speak.

"You went and made a mess again. You thought you could have what you want on a big silver platter, even when the mages on the moon told you there would always been two prices."

Still so quiet, Mika moved her hands up to sit palms down on the table.

"One you know, and one you don't. What's the price you don't know, Mikalya? For what? The eventual promise that you will get to meet him again?"

Slowly her eyes moved up to stare herself in the eyes.

"He's never going to be the person everyone remembers. He is never going to be someone who can love you the way Aaron already does."

"I know."

"Then why do you do this to yourself?"

A span of silence followed. Of course Mika didn't have an answer for that. There was no justification or reason she could think of that sounded good enough.

And yet...and yet the opportunity presented itself, and some ridiculous lick of hope made her take it.

"Please. Just...think about this. If you want to pursue him, fine. But remember that you are more than that. He is the reason you hid your whole life, he is the reason you died. I don't want him to be the reason why you... why we wither away as well."

Her head bobbed, and tears sprung forth from her eyes. "Okay. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry to me. You are affecting us both in the end. I love you, and I just want what's best for you."

"Okay."

"Good."

She swallowed and nodded again. "I love you too."

"I want to believe you...but you need to show me that." She gestured around the room. "Show me, okay?"

"I will. I promise I will. I...I will."

"Good. You should go now. Chev and Quinita are waking now, and the others won't be far behind."

Mika didn't get another word in as her apartment faded away. She had too much to think about now. Not long after the dream faded, she found herself waking up and crying in the windowsill of the Verbena chantry.

[ecstatic-chrononaut]

"Are you going to come home for the summer?"

Daniel stands on the train platform with his mother, staring at the train in front of them. The train was already boarding, passengers preparing to be whisked far away from this place. Visitors on their way home, travellers getting ready to explore new places. So many people, so many feelings going through all of them. There are two joyous companions off on their first adventure to the east coast, and a mother and child about to move away to a whole new city. He sees a couple in love parting for the first time as one of the pair is off on a business trip, and another student getting ready to go back to their respective school. He's been so lost in his own wonderings about how these people live their lives or what is ahead of them that it takes a moment for him to turn to his mother.

His mother. She's aged at lot in the past week. They always say death does that to a person, but Daniel wishes he could take it away. He probably could, if he tried. With a few more years practice, maybe. Perhaps once the grief starts to fade... He swallows, finally opening his mouth to speak. "I don't know." He does, though. He can feel the finality in this goodbye, much like the last goodbye to his father.

"What do you mean, 'you don't know'?" There is that look on her face, brows furrowed in exhasperation. His mother always had a way of making him feel guilty with the simplest change in tone. "It's a simple question, Daniel." It's a mother's way, especially his. She had been a guilt machine for as long as he could remember, a trait Aaron used to tell him would never go away. He was the baby, after all. He sighs softly, knowing that he has to placate her somehow. He just doesn't think he can lie...

"I know it is, mom," He finally decides, trying not to sound as long-suffering as he feels. "But I've just missed a week of class and practice, and my practicals are coming up, as well as finals. I need to..." He's always been good with excuses. It amazes him how easily he pulls them out of his ass, especially now. Especially after the week he's had. But it's the look of genuine sadness in his mother's eyes that makes him stop and swallow his words. Anxiety bubbles up in his stomach. Every sign tells him he won't be seeing her for a long time, but he has to placate her somehow. "I will try. I promise. I just need to get through the end of the year and figure some things out."

"Good. Good boy. I want you to come home, Daniel. I want your music to fill the house." She smiles sadly and gently strokes his cheek. "It will be so quiet, otherwise." Her admissions causes him to swallow deliberately as he blinks rapidly. The thought of his mother alone... He opens his mouth to speak when a conductor shouts a five minute warning.

"Ah...I think that's my cue." He murmurs sadly. He engulfs his mother in a hug without thinking, more tears threatening in his eyes. "I love you, mom."

"I love you too, Daniel." She pats his back, holding her baby tight. She doesn't want to let go and Daniel doesn't want to let her. Maybe she knows just as well as he that her baby is leaving the nest for good. A mother's intuition is scary. She rubs small circles before finally pulling away. "Hurry." She nudges. "I don't want to have to do this again." Her small attempt at humor causes him to chuckle.

"I'll call as soon as I'm back on campus." He promises as he picks up his luggage--a dufflebag and his violin case. "I promise. I love you mom..." He steps up toward the train, turning back to her one last time. The words get caught in his throat, he struggles to let them go. "Good bye. Talk soon."

"Hurry." Of course she would admonish him, even now as he gets up the stairs and onto the train headed back to school. She lets out a soft sigh, though, as Daniel turns back to her. "I love you too, sweetheart. I will be waiting for your call."

He hurries onto the train, finding his seat quickly in order to wave goodbye to his mother just as it begins to pull away. It breaks his heart, how alone she looks on the platform, waving back to him with a bittersweet smile. Perhaps her mother's intuition knows as well as he does that this goodbye had a finality to it that none of the others have. Part of him wants to get up and run to her, to jump off of the train and hug her. To go home and keep her company in that now empty house. He doesn't, though. He knows he needs to go. 

The train makes it's way from the station, his mother slowly becoming smaller and smaller in his vision. He doesn't stop waving, and neither does she, not until they are both too far from view to recognize.

He slumps back in his seat at that point, reaching up to rub his cheeks. He's not sure when he started crying. It's a hard realization to handle, growing up and figuring out you can never truly go home again. Maybe one day he'll be able to. He holds onto that hope as the train begins to speed up and leave his childhood behind him.

[ecstatic-chrononaut]

The drive downtown was always more traffic-heavy than it should have been. Daniel leaned his head against the window, staring at the familiar and yet not sights pass by. He can't wait to get on the train, to go back to his own life. It's been a depressing week.

"Did we really have to come down Yonge?"

"The DVP is closed this weekend. You know, the yearly maintenance thing."

He picked up his head from the window, staring across at his brother in the driver's seat. "I could have just taken the subway. I'm twenty years old and pretty capable, you know."

"Do you always have to take offence to me doing a nice thing?" Aaron peered across at him quickly. "Why can't I spend a little quality time with my brother after a trying week? I just wanted to get lunch and talk before you head back to Montreal."

Daniel already has another retort prepared, though it dies on his tongue. A strange nostalgia washes over him, imagining himself at five again, back when Aaron still put on an air of caring about him. "Sorry," He mumbles. "It has been a trying week. You have to admit, Aaron, that you've never really wanted to spend quality time with me before."

He watched his brother carefully while the man clearly chose his next words. "Yes, that's true." Aaron replies. His eyes slide sideways again, studying Daniel as best he can at the red light. "Perhaps it's time I changed that. You're clearly growing up into a well-rounded young man. You've got a good head on your shoulders, Daniel."

"Alright. What do you want?" The words are muttered half-jokingly, but Daniel can't help but let some of his mistrust and disbelief of his older brother bleed through. Aaron can probably pick up on it, he hasn't been a psychiatrist for almost ten years for nothing.

"Daniel, I'm serious. Mom speaks so fondly of you when you call home. She's proud of you. I know we were never close, but that should change."

"That's why I'm suddenly worth your time? Because mom is proud of me?"

"You are twisting my words." Aaron retorts, eyes going back to the road as the light turns green.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot you had the monopoly on manipulation and emotional head-games."

Daniel is quick sometimes, his words striking precisely. His brother has always brought out the worst and the best in him. This drive downtown was no exception, judging by how Aaron has fallen characteristically silent. No doubt he was simmering with some carefully constructed comeback to destabilize his younger brother's self-assured confidence.

They ride on in silence, passing by St Clair Avenue with ease and finding themselves being rerouted due to more construction. "I should've taken Avenue," The older brother mumbles softly.

"Or you could've just let me take the subway and assert my independence in the world." Daniel mutters. Now he's just being petty, the jibes only because they make him feel slightly better. He goes back to staring out the passenger window and feels Aaron's eyes on the back of his neck.

A bus passes them and then another. They get down into one lane and pass under a small bridge.

"I'm just worried about you, Daniel."

The Ecstatic Mage turns his head to stare warily at his brother. "Why? You just said mom speaks fondly of me, that she's proud of me and that I clearly have my shit together." That strange sensation from earlier that week washes over him. The hairs on the back of his neck raise to attention.

"I know, and I do mean those things." Aaron takes a deep breath. "University away from home can do strange things to a young man. I've seen it happen before."

"Aaron," Daniel starts, his voice deadpan as he speaks, "We both know that I've been strange since...well, forever. I don't think university changed that in any way. You are worrying over nothing." He tries so hard to sound dismissive of Aaron's worry, but of course his Psychiatrist older brother can see right through him.

"Daniel..." There is a note of warning in Aaron's tone.

"Please, Aaron. Continue to bask in being the golden boy and I will continue to fight my way from your shadow? Isn't that what you've always wanted?"

"Daniel..." That note is harder this time, but Daniel keeps going anyway. When has he ever been good at stopping.

"Besides, what does it matter to you? I have finally carved out my own little niche and you are trying to get involved and muck it all up on me. Can't you just let me have something that is my own?"

Aaron stops a little too violently at the red light, causing Daniel to snap back in his seat. He realises he's carried on too far, his brother's temper snapping. "Can you for once in your life just shut up?" Aaron asks, his voice heated and louder than he intended. The funnier--or stranger part is when his voice gets quieter, an edge of anxiety coming out. "Am I not allowed to be worried about you? You are different, Daniel, and it worries me." He has effectively stunned the younger into silence. Daniel stares out the car window, eyes transfixed on the light. How can Aaron be genuinely worried, he's never worried.

Then it starts to dawn on him. The sudden new job when his practice was doing so well. The intense interest he’s been showing in his younger brother. The strange visions and dreams Daniel has had since coming home. Aaron is worried because his brother doesn’t fit into his perfect paradigm of the Sleeping masses.

"You've changed, too." Daniel finally speaks. He turns to face his older brother, eyes bright with some internal realization. "I'm not one of the so-called emotionally unstable people you deal with at the Mental Institute, Aaron. I am a young man, discovering his passion for music and life, meeting new people, trying new things. I have finally found my place in the world and that bugs you. Did you really think I wanted to be exactly like you? I'm not some...wooden man, stuck in a never-changing state of existence. So fuck off and let me live my own life."

He undoes the seat belt then, and grabs his backpack and violin case from the back seat. "Let me out. I'm taking the subway. I'll meet mom downtown."

"Daniel..." Aaron looks taken aback, unsure what he should do in this moment. He grabs for Daniel's arm, though Daniel manages to evade him.

"I said let me out!!"

The door unlocks and Daniel gets out while the light is still red. He has just enough time to slam the door and get to the sidewalk before the light turns green and traffic moves once more. He's sure Aaron will come back around to try and get him. He doesn't care, though, as he heads back toward Yonge and the Rosedale stop. He'll be on his way downtown before Aaron can even turn around. Let him stew in what just happened for a while.

Hopefully he will stew long enough that he won't realise until it's too late that he shouldn't have let his little brother escape so easily.

Life just got a lot more interesting.

[ecstatic-chrononaut]

Daniel breaths out softly as the piece comes to it's finality. He feels his anxiety finally roll of his shoulders, and opens his eyes to stare at the professor and his class. It was rough, always rough, having to play in front of so many talented musicians with the same potential for greatness. He was one of four string players in his freshman class, one of which was also a violinist.

Of course, the other had already discovered her expression and blown them away since day one. It had been a month and he was still trying to play catch-up to her. He seemed to be forever doomed living in someone else's shadow.

He swallows at the silence in the room, glancing out at the scrutinizing faces before finally turning to the professor. "Mmm, a beautiful technical performance." She offers. "But, Mr Amar, you are still too wooden. If you want to succeed, you need to find your own voice within the music." He can feel his face fall flat, the way it always does when he thought he finally had it. "Oh, don't be down on yourself. This is common in young performers. You have plenty of time to figure it out...it's just best to figure it out sooner rather than later."

"Of course, Professor Dumont. Thank you." He bows his head and makes his way back to his seat, violin and score in tow.

"Alright. We have...Mr Xiao next? Come on up dear, let's see how the Bethoven has been treating you."

Daniel sinks into his seat as the pianist makes his way up to the front, getting ready for his own critique. Studying music in earnest hasn't been what Daniel expected, so far. He's ahead of his peers in the theoretical and historical aspects of his classes, as well as in the technical...but they all have an expressive creativity he hasn't been able to find yet. Years spent in the shadows of his older brother, trying hard to carve out his own place in his parents' heart, had him doing this all to impress them. Now they're impressed, so now he has lost his purpose in it. He taps his fingers idly on his desk while Joseph plays his piece. It's not sloppy, but it's clear he still needs more practice. There is, however, a certain life to it that so many in the class already have.

"You know," A voice whispers beside him. "Sometimes I find going back to my roots helps me when I'm in a rut."

The violinist glances sideways at the voice -- the TA. Marissa. She's been observing him lately, he's felt. "I'm not in a rut." He knows he sounds defensive as he says that, and the small smirk on Marissa's face tells him she does as well.

"Mmm, if you say so. May I just suggest, though, that you should try to play something simple when you practice next? Forget your assigned pieces for a night and play something..." She pauses, perhaps trying to select the right words. "Play something that made you want to play to begin with. The piece that you wanted to learn first."

--

It's been an hour since Daniel has managed to snag a practice room. Twenty minutes of stretching, followed by thirty of practicing scales and appregios. He's only starting to open up his current assignments when Marissa's words come back to him.

"Play something that drew me to music." Daniel scoffs to himself. Of course it couldn't be that simple, that playing something from his past might draw out the feeling in his pieces. He sighs softly and pulls the bow across his strings, a middle C. He draws the song out, feeling silly as he does so, but enjoying the nostalgic pang of his teacher accompanying him for this little song.

"Twinkle twinkle little star..." He sings softly. It's ridiculous, but for some reason he cannot help but smile. Of course this wasn't the song that drew him to music, but it was the first he remembers learning and perfecting. He puts his own little spin on it, sliding the bow rapidly across the strings to accentuate a particular note, or drawing out another with a long pull. At the end, he chuckles and shakes his head. Perhaps there is something to be said for the nostalgia of a simpler time, back when this was a hobby and not his potential livelihood.

He plays another simple song, then something a little harder. His first recital piece is suddenly coming to life in his hands. He remembers playing it when he was seven, so proud of himself that he finally got a solo. It sounds so much different now, a sweet melody that glides across the strings rather than the choppy sound of a boy still learning. This one was his, though. This song was his to own, his to interpret. He recalls the thrill of it, of wanting to read about the piece before performing it, asking his mother to take him to the library. He remembers asking his teacher to tell him what he thought the song was about, then explaining his interpretation.

When did he stop feeling that excitement for the music?

He draws that feeling back out, feeling himself awaken for the first time in years. It's not about perfect fingering and flowing one cadance into the next. This is about emotion, about the excitement you get when you come to a particular peak, and the sorrow you feel when it comes back into the low. He stops playing, needing just to breath. To feel alive once more with it.

Daniel swallows and laughs softly. He feels like a child discovering his one true love all over again, and wonders why he ever let that feeling be robbed of him. This, right here, is why he played. Why he always wanted to play. It was never to please his parents or to climb out of Aaron's shadow. It wasn't to be the best, though that would be a great reward. He played because he wanted to make the world feel what he felt, to show them what he saw as the notes lifted from the page and took on their own life under his fingers.

He is a man no longer drowning, a man rising from the water to fill his lungs with new life. What a glorious feeling, to finally breath again.

--

A week later, he finds himself at the head of the classroom once more. Anxiety still pools in his belly as the same piece from before comes to an end. His classmates are as scrutinizing as ever, but there is a different sort of tension in the air. He lowers his bow to his side, the vibrations of the last note still humming in his head. He's just become a dangerous contender.

"Much better, Mr Amar," Professor Dumont smiles. "You have begun to find your voice. Work on the fingerings in the middle, you came off a little fast. And remember...relax your shoulders. You do not want to cause yourself any troubles in the future, yes?"

Daniel smiles today, his head nodding. "Of course, Professor," He agrees. "I will work on both of those things." He takes his things and returns to his seat while the next student moves to the front of the room. He did it.

As the next student begins to play, Marissa sits down next to him. "Your method worked." He admits to her in a whisper.

"I knew it would." She smiles at him knowingly. "Perhaps I can teach you another thing or two. Would you like to play together sometime?"

He turns his head, staring at the senior student in shock. "Me? I...I would love that."

"Great. How about tonight at 7:30."

"Okay. In the practice rooms?"

"Sounds good. I'll come find you." And with that she moves on, going to talk to another of the freshmen about their performance. Daniel watches her go, a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. Perhaps she will be the mentor he always needed in order to rise like a star. Only time will tell if she will help him reach what he knows he's destined to be.

[ecstatic-chrononaut]

"You are tensing up again."

The music comes to an abrupt stop, pulling Daniel out of his reverie and causing him to sharply slide his bow across the strings of his violin. The sound, thankfully, isn't as awful as it could be, as he lets up pressure as he stops. Marissa can see the tension build more in his shoulders as he lets out a soft breath. "I'm trying, okay?" He snaps. He's always been mercurial, changing one emotion for another. Today it's anxiety into frustration. "I have a week to get this piece right. A week before my jury, and I feel like I don't have enough time. I have to study, still. I have my electives to worry about. And aurals, and theory..."

Marissa gets it. Of course she gets it, she's been in his situation before. It always came back to time, didn't it? The absence of it, the fleeting of it. Always running out of it. She already stopped listening moments ago as Daniel continues to rattle on about all that he still needs to do. "Daniel," Her voice is soft, but clear. She has learned how to interrupt his train of thought, to pull him out of his tangential melt-downs. It works no differently today; he stops speaking, and turns to face her. The bow is held awkwardly at his side, his violin still held tightly against his shoulder. "What have I told you about not having enough time?"

She watches him as he starts to think. His shoulders finally relax, that tension unwinding from his body. "To stop fretting it." He says. "That if I focus on it slipping away, it will. Only I can control the speed at which I think it's passing." He sucks in a deep breath and exhales it slowly. "So only I can slow it down." He pulls the violin away from his shoulder, taking another deep breath in the process.

This continues, him breathing slowly, calming his heart, slowing down his perception of time. At the beginning of the year, he used to argue with her about such a bizarre concept. Now he's started to realize it, that only he can control his perceptions. It's an amazing thing to watch, a budding brilliant musician, on the cusp of something so much greater. She smiles and stands up from the piano. "See?" Her voice lilts in that usual knowing way she knows annoys him. "Now. What part are you having trouble with?"

He breathes out again, the tension finally gone from his body. "The tempo in the middle." He admits with a chuckle. Daniel realises the cosmic joke himself, how it's all coming back to time. "It eludes me. I find myself speeding up more than I want to. My fingers always get away from me." She's noticed this, of course. The way his music takes on a frantic tone when he comes to the particular sequence he speaks of, one he fights to contain. She circles behind him, hands on his shoulders to work out the rest of the tension he's keeping bundled there.

"Do you think," Marissa starts, her tone taking on a curious, hypothetical quality. "That maybe it's because the music takes a hold of you in that way? Maybe you are fighting too hard to bring yourself back from that point." She's trying to lead the proverbial horse to the water. "You tense up because you think the music shouldn't have that tone, but that might be where you are wrong? Remember, everything is always based upon the interpreter, and some part of yourself is telling you this particular piece wants...no, needs to be played that way."

"So you are telling me to just embrace it." Daniel smirks. "Just jump right in and see where this piece is trying to take me." He opens his eyes, looking back to his teacher. "Alright. Maybe after I get it out of my system..." He stretches his neck and lifts his instrument back to his shoulder. Marissa smiles and stands back, her hands falling to her sides.

"Just remember, you control your perception." She speaks softly as he lifts the bow back to the strings. Slowly, he begins to play, his body having relaxed enough to let himself be swept up in the flow of the music. Marissa moves back to the piano as Daniel plays, and gently she joins in to accompany him. She's hoping she's about to witness something miraculous, as her fingers slide amongst the keys. This is his journey, though, to undertake on his own. She only adds in the softest pianissimo, something to help him along.

The piece moves, and Daniel sways with it. He's facing her, lost in the music as it begins to build. Marissa watches with rapt attention as his fingers glide along the strings of his violin, each fingering coming a little faster than the last. Of course, she speeds up with him, adding in more sound as the song progresses. It's like a build-up to some culmination of emotion, a crescendo to the climatic end of years of work...or perhaps just the beginning of so many more. Either way, she can feel the change in him, as Daniel lets go and the music takes it's hold. Like she told him many times before, he is in control of his perceptions. He controls the speed of the piece, he controls how fast or slow it moves. The fact that it also has an effect on the world around him...well...

It’s in the height of his playing–when the notes reach a screeching peak, the bow vibrating with a mighty intensity across the strings–that he gasps. She watches his bright eyes fly open, an awareness taking over his senses that was never there before. This, she knows from experience, is what breaking the barriers and experiencing freedom feels like.

He continues to play through it, the tempo staying in that frantic, high place as she comes in stronger on the piano. A full-blown forte for two bars, helping him stay in his heightened state of ecstasy for as long as she can. They play in synchronized harmony, disrupting the other students in the practice rooms. She doesn’t care; this moment means so much more to her.

Eventually, though, all good things must come to an end. The violin comes down from it’s high, and she goes back to the soft pianissimo of before. The piece tapers off to it’s final end, Daniel dragging the last note out before the bow and his violin both fall to his sides. The tension from his first time through is no longer lingering in his shoulders. He’s wild-eyed and breathless as he comes off of that wondrous high…the first of so many.

“Wow." Daniel breaths. "What the fuck was that?” He knows, of course. He just doesn't know that he knows yet.

She laughs, realising for the first time that she is as breathless as he. This isn’t anything like her first time, there is something much more special about witnessing someone else’s.

“That, Daniel,” She lilts. “Is what we call the Awakening.”

[ecstatic-chrononaut]

New York City. The city that never sleeps. The land of dreams. The city of literally millions of people. How is it that one Ecstatic Mage is having his dreams crushed by a nosy brother who won't just fuck off? He had been busking in subway stations for what must be two months now. It was easy, considering how talented a musician he was. Easy to make money, easier to pick out those like him and make friends. Soon he knew fellow Ecstatics, he had friends who took him in, let him sleep on their couches, the whole nine yards. He had just started considering maybe settling down and finding a steady job in the city when things blew up in his face late one night. "Aaron." The name was spoken without feeling, no contempt nor joy. His brother had never shown him kindness so he felt the man deserved no emotion in return. "Daniel. I have been searching for you." He was dressed professionally, crisp and pressed to a fault. Aaron always looked somewhere between the perfect businessman and doctor. It was all in the way he presented himself and today that calm, confident manner was more on display than usual. The show was probably more for the Man in Black at his side than for Daniel himself. "Mmmn, of course you have. You and your lackeys. Or are you the lackey? I have to say, my knowledge of your organization is spotty at best." "Your sarcasm and dismissive attitude does you a disservice, Daniel." Aaron tuts softly. He speaks so calmly, his disarming manner not something the young Ecstatic has ever had turned on him. It's unnerving. "I'm only here to bring you home. Mother is worried about you." They take a step forward on the empty subway platform, he takes a step back. How many more are there, he wonders. Would Aaron have more posted at the exits? What kind of effects is he going to have to cast to escape this mess? In the back of his mind, the sound of violins bursts into life. "what have you told her that she needs to worry about?" He swallows. The violin is still clasped firmly in his grip, still held in a way that he could continue playing at any moment. Milliseconds tick by and the Ecstatic plans. "That I'm off my rocker? That I'm clearly unstable and in need of help?" Aaron frowns while a flash of anger sparks in his hazel eyes. "Daniel, be careful what you say." "Oh please, Aaron. I'm not stupid. I know you. I grew up being in the shadow of a perfect child, trying so hard to live up to your image. Excuse me for...for breaking out of that shell and finding my own path." There is a gentle rumble under their feet. Signs of a train soon pulling into the station. The Man in Black takes another step forward while Aaron holds up a hand. "Don't go down this path, Daniel. You don't know how dangerous it can be. I've seen your type before, what they're ideas can do to you. I just want you to come home and be safe. For mom." Daniel snorts again, a smile lighting up his face. "Not every stereotype has to be true." More footsteps start down the stairs. The rattling of the train gets louder and a light shines from the tunnel. It's now or never. He lifts the violin to his chin, pulling the bow across it as it emits a high-pitched wail. It gets louder and intensifies, the vibrations of the sound waves at a debilitating level when they reach the Tecnocrats' ears. The Man in Black crumples first with Aaron not far behind. The train pulls into the station. If it were possible for the Ecstatic to slow time down, he would swear that is what happens at this moment. He drops the violin from his neck and grabs up the case he carries it in as the train door opens. Another Technocrat appears from the stairs, staggering to a stop when she sees the state of her comrades. A gun is pulled. A shot is fired. Daniel rushes the train door, a dart of some sort flying past him. It's thankful it's so late. No innocent bystander is around to get hit. No one for them to hurt and later blame him for. *Bing bing bing* The Technocrat runs after him, gun still pulled. He hits the other side of the train car as the door starts to close behind him. Faster. Close faster. Please don't let her make it. It's by some miracle that the train begins to move before she's even reached the door. She's pulled out a radio and starts talking into it. There is one final glance at his brother as someone helps him up. Aaron watches the train pull away, catching Daniel's eyes as the Ecstatic collapses into a chair. His hands shake as he carefully lies his violin back into it's case. Tears start to streak down his face. New York City. Another place where Daniel's dreams go to die.

[ecstatic-chrononaut]

"Hello?" This was a bad idea. It was an awful idea. The sound of her voice alone sends a strong, nostalgic pang running through him that he chokes on his words. "Hello, is someone there?" The confusion and slight annoyance spikes in her voice when he doesn't answer her right away. He can do this. He can make it through this phone call without some sort of pathetic breakdown about how much he wants his mommy. "Happy Hanukkah, mom." It surprises him how steady he manages to keep his voice, how calm he sounds. "Daniel!" She sounds breathless. He can just picture her in the kitchen by the wall-mounted unit, probably sitting in that ridiculous high chair that was always by the door. She sounds elated. "My baby...where on earth are you? You haven't called or written home in months. Last Aaron told me, you were somewhere in New York!" It's funny how elation and annoyance and genuine worry can bleed together. "I wasn't aware Aaron knew I was in New York..." Well that's a slight problem. He glances back over one shoulder, paranoia seeping through him as he occupies the phone booth in a crowded mall only days before Christmas. He's not following him. It's not possible. "He said you two spoke." The tension bleeds out of his shoulders. Ah, yes. That was a long time ago, then. "That you were..." She trails off. "I wish you would come home. Stop throwing your life away." How quickly they got to this portion of the conversation. "Mom..." He sighs. "I know you do. I'm sorry. I will. I will soon..." It's easy to placate with such simple lies. He knows she knows it isn't true. "Oh sweetheart...I don't know what's going on between you and your brother but you shouldn't fear him. He told me that's why you ran away. He knows you are hurt and he wants to help you heal. Why won't you let him help you?" Daniel takes a deep, calming breath. "That's what he's telling you? That I'm hurt? Mom, I'm not a--" "Death can be hard on one your age. Your father died when you were still so young...being away at school...those friends of yours, there. They did something to you, didn't they? You ran away from so much, sweetheart." "Mom, I didn't run away from--" "You can have it all back. We will work it out. Your brother has sway. You can go to school in the city. You could join the symphony. Just please come home." "Mom! Please. Stop. I didn't run away from school. I'm not...I'm not whatever it is Aaron is filling your head with. Everything is alright." "But--" "This is just who I have to be right now. I will finish school when I'm ready. Please, let's not go down this road again." "I just don't want you--" "I know!" That comes out harsher than he means, even as his voice cracks. "I mean...I'm sorry, mom. I just...I miss you a lot. But I can't come home. Not yet." There is silence on the other end. He knows he's struck a nerve now. How do the conversations always end up this way? How does Aaron always win, even in the most subtle of ways? It's not fair. The cracking in his voice is possibly the only thing keeping him from another earful. It's up to him to break the silence. "I have to go. My time is running out. Are you celebrating with anyone tonight?" "I am. Your brother is bringing his fiance and some neighbors are dropping by later." The tension in her voice has increased. She sounds more worried than ever and more annoyed. "Oh. He got engaged." Yup, definitely winning. "Well...send him my love." "Yes, he did. And I will." "I love you, mom." She lets out a deep sigh. Resignation. "I love you too, Daniel. Be safe." "I will. Goodbye." He hangs the phone back up on the hook and lets out his own sigh of resignation. It wasn't at all what he wanted, but it was nice to hear her voice once more.

[ecstatic-chrononaut]

"Daniel, will you play for me?" The young mage turns his head from his schoolwork to his grieving mother. She's dressed in dark clothing, a torn black ribbon tied in her hair and standing in the doorway to his old bedroom. He sits up straighter, brows knit together. "Are you sure?" It would, technically, be breaking the tradition of mourning but they were never very good at following cultural rules. "Everyone has left for the night." She offers a sad smile, as if she knew that was what her son was worried about. "Your brother demanded that I go to bed and will not allow me to help clean up. You know how he is." She knows it will get a snort out of her baby and he does not disappoint. "He is good at taking care of others in the most long-suffering way possible." He mutters. It earns him a small click of his mother's tongue, but he doesn't apologise. They both know it's true and she's always been a little kinder to him that his father or older brother. Instead, he stands up and picks his violin up out of it's case. "Please come and sit down, mom." She laughs softly and does as he asks, sitting down on his bed while he quickly warms up and makes sure the instrument is in tune. "Something soothing, but nothing too heartbreaking. We have enough heartbreak in this house." Daniel gives his mother a sad smile, his facade of calm breaking momentarily. "Alright." He agrees. "Nothing too sad. I can do that." He stands to his full height, back and shoulders straight. The instrument is tucked under his chin while he takes a deep breath. He always takes his time to get in the right mindset for the music he needs to play. Tonight it's a bit easier as he finally flexes his fingers across the fingerboard and begins to play. The bow slides across the strings and the music comes. It's a slow melody, calm and soothing. The music fills the bedroom with gentle notes that put his mother at ease. Her sadness can temporarily melt away as her youngest plays his beautiful melody. There isn't a deep emotion to the piece he plays, not like the others he tends to enjoy. This one is simple for what it is, something that might help her fall asleep. She sways in place and hums softly along. That only causes Daniel to smile. Slowly he switches into something a little more complicated, his music causing him to fall down the rabbit hole. His playing becomes deeper, infused with his love and quiet sorrow he feels for his mother. His desire is to do nothing more than comfort her and the music does exactly that. Slowly she lies back on his bed, head resting on his pillows. She closes her eyes and begins to drift. The music fills her, surrounds her and comforts her as she begins to doze off. Daniel continues playing, finishing off the second melody as she slips away. He opens his eyes and smiles. "Night, mom..." He murmurs. "Good night, sweetheart." He slips his violin back in it's case and slips out of the room, turning off the light and closing the door behind him. He'll just sleep on the couch. Downstairs, Aaron moves away from the stairs and back into the kitchen, a frown of contemplation looked on his face.

[ecstatic-chrononaut]

She finds him sitting at the piano in their favourite practice room. His violin case lies on a chair, unopened. Instead he's plucking softly at the keys on the piano in no particular order. "You're in here early today." Daniel glances up at her, his eyes out of focus. It's a normal look for the younger mage, he's probably being all introspective again. "Yeah." "You're also more tense than usual. You look like that uptight boy who I remember from the first week of school." She grins softly, hoping to pull Daniel out of whatever funk he's sunken into. "Marissa..." He states with a sigh. His gaze turns back to the keys as he plucks them again. His shoulders and back tense up while he prepares himself. "I need to leave Montreal." It's not the bomb she was expecting. "What?" She asks. She moves in to sit down beside him, one arm wrapping the young man in a brief hug. "What do you mean you have to leave Montreal? You can't just leave. You're the best in your class, Daniel. Don't give that up." "It's not that easy." He murmurs. "It's...remember how I told you about the vision with my brother?" Her lips purse. She remembers it, of course. They talked about it, what it could potentially mean and what Daniel might want to look out for. "What about it?" "I don't know." He rubs his head. "I just keep getting this /feeling/. All of my instincts are telling me to run. I've meditated on it and I'm only getting flashes. This girl is in all of them. It's supposed to be therapy but it feels much darker than that. It feels like...like...brainwashing. She looked at me again. She told me to run." "Daniel," Marissa strokes his back affectionately. "We can deal with this here. Together. You have lots of friends in the city who will keep you safe /if/ your brother starts nosing around." "I know." The young man mutters, his tone defeated. There is always a but. "I have a feeling he may have started already. I'm scared, Marissa, and every instinct in my body tells me to leave. I really need to do this." He pauses. "I already asked the school if I can finish off this year and then take a year off with a place still saved for me." Another ton of bricks. Marissa, being who she is, should have seen this coming. Daniel had been tense since he came back from Toronto but she had been too wrapped up in her studies and her life to notice. Now her best friend was going to leave her and it hurt. "Daniel, please don't go. We'll keep you safe." She murmurs. Her voice has gotten sad now. "You are too bright of a star to be chased away. You are going to change the world." He smiles sadly in return, gaze locking on hers. "I'm only as bright as you have made me, Marissa." He pulls her into a hug. "We'll change the world together. This is just something I need to do first."

[ecstatic-chrononaut]

"Who's sitting with mom right now?" Daniel looks up from his school work, eyes locking on the curly-haired man standing in his doorway. Aaron was always a bit condescending to his younger brother, treating him like he doesn't give their parents the respect and love they deserve. Right now is no different, Daniel can see the judgement in his eyes. He sighs softly and flips the music book closed. "Judy Brahm, from down the street." He gestures. "I think her daughter is stopping by soon as well." "Why aren't you down there with them?" "Seriously, Aaron?" Aaron gives Daniel a look that speaks volumes into how little he respects his younger brother. It's never been /this/ bad, but since the beginning of the week he's felt their relationship to be very different. "Christ. Mom /told/ me to get some schoolwork done, not that it's any of your business. I have a scholarship to maintain. My practice can't be put on hold for a whole week." He stands up and grabs his violin case. Anything not to focus on his brother. His brother, on the other hand, walks in the room to grab Daniel's arm. He turns him so they're face to face, older staring down at younger. The electricity and tension in the air between them strengthens to a tipping point. White, sterile walls. The furniture is sparse: a sleek desk with a high-backed chair, a white sofa and an armchair. No artwork, no bookshelves. Nothing in this room speaks of stimulation or creative thought. No window, though the room is brightly lit. A girl no more than twenty-five sits on the sofa, eyes out of focus and desperate. Her hair is disheveled, her arms are wrapped tightly about her body in a stark white straight-jacket. "Now now, Angela," A voice speaks. It's behind him and so familiar. The girl turns her head toward Daniel. Pleading eyes lock onto him, staring through his soul with a deep focus not previously there. "Help me." "...are you even listening to me?" The vision fades just as quickly as it came. Daniel stares up at his brother, the look of a deer caught in the headlights in his eyes. "Huh? What? Yes, of course. You're right." He clears his throat. "I'll be down in a minute." Aaron takes a deep breath, staring back with that judgmental, scrutinizing gaze. Something just happened and Aaron is intelligent enough to realise it. "Are you alright?" The question comes out harder than he may have meant. "What?" Daniel asks, finally tugging his arm out of Aaron's grasp. "Of course I am. Will you leave now? I'll be down in a minute." While the harsh tone does return, there is a note of caution in Daniel's voice now. "I'll bring my violin. Mom would like that." Aaron lets go and backs out of the room again. "Yes, she would." He still stares oddly at his little brother. "Be quick." As soon as he's left the room again, Daniel lets out a sigh of distress. His brother is up to something, something dark. Everything in his gut tells him he may not be safe anymore.