7. The Show
What had been only a dull throb hour ago had grown and blossomed, as though tended-to by an earth pony gardener, into a beautiful flower of driving pain at the base of Trixie’s horn and travelling its length. Trixie was doing her best to ignore it, focusing instead on Lyra as the pony-turned-naked-bear sat, in that bizarre cross-legged fashion, in front of Trixie, holding her lyre in both hands as she continued to try and stroke and play it. Trixie had cast two more illusions, one of a golden aura around the lyre and another aura around her horn, to make it seem to any passers-by that she was holding it up the lyre telekinetically and practicing herself.
On any other night, Trixie probably would barely have even noticed the drain on her magical reserves that those two most minor of glamors were creating. Tonight…tonight was a little different.
Didn’t need to disguise my cutie mark, Trixie thought as she closed her eyes, trying to will the pain in her head and horn to go away. She imagined that she succeeded a little. Should have just worn the cape all the way here…I’m sure Lyra would have been alright for the fifteen-minute walk, it’s barely freezing out.
The worst part of it all was that she really had outdone herself in the illusion department, to her own detriment: she couldn’t, now that her cutie mark was safely covered, simply dispel the illusion disguising it, as she had looped the magic of that glamor into the other half-dozen or so that she’d cast upon herself, each illusion feeding into the others to make the whole that much more complete and real-seeming. But the drawback was that she couldn’t disentangle one illusion from the other: they either had to all go at once, or else…
…or else I’m going to overchannel and pass out, Trixie reasoned. And then all her magic would collapse anyway – including the invisibility spell around Lyra.
Trixie shook her head, banishing that thought from her mind. Opening her eyes, she saw that time trying to convince herself that the throbbing in her head was just illusion had, at least, helped to pass the time. She and Lyra were sitting in the very front of the concert hall, directly in front of the stage; behind them, however, the audience for the show had begun to trot in, gradually filling up the seats. Lyra, meanwhile, had stopped practicing her lyre. She was watching the audience file in as well, her now much smaller eyes as wide as they could get as she bit her lip nervously. She was sweating, too – not much, but it was perceptible.
Trixie wondered, for the briefest moment, how everypony in the auditorium would react if – or when, it was looking increasingly likely – Trixie’s spells failed and Lyra became visible to all. She once more, however, shook her head and banished the thought from her mind.
My special talent is magic, she informed herself. Not just magic, either – doing magic for others. This is exactly what I earned my cutie mark for. Lyra can do this, and I can do this for Lyra.
Trixie heard Lyra’s name being called; looking, she saw Troubadour waving her towards the stage.
It was time.
---
Lyra stared out at the audience as she walked onto the stage, holding her lyre in one hand so that it looked like the illusory Lyra was moving it telekinetically, while her other hand adjusted Trixie’s invisibility-bestowing hat that lay atop her head.
That’s a lot of ponies.
The auditorium was absolutely packed. There were students, and prospectives – a lot of prospectives, actually – and teachers and staff. She recognized a couple junior members of the Court who fancied themselves patrons of the arts and often showed up at school functions. Bon Bon was there too, looking…well, unhappy was putting it mildly, but also concerned. She gave a nervous smile at Bon Bon, only to remember too late that Bon Bon couldn’t actually see her, and sighed quietly. Great.
Her gaze fell over another pony sitting near the front of the auditorium. A gray mare with black hair and –
Oh no. She’s here too?
Octavia Philharmonica, her mentor from the Academy, had shown up to see her prize pupil’s first performance.
I can’t even play with these stupid paws yet! I can’t impress the students, much less the teachers, the Court, or freaking Octavia! She’ll think I got lazy and haven’t practiced since I graduated!
Trixie-as-Lyra reached the center of the stage. “Hello!” She called out. “Silence, please! I am about to astound and amaze – ”
Okay, that was it. She might be about to crash and burn, but she wasn’t going to look like a total idiot doing it. Lyra used one of her freakishly large paws to poke Trixie in the side. “Just go,” she hissed, as quietly as she could.
“… so have fun!” finished Trixie lamely, sitting and emitting a strong golden glow from her horn. The lyre, still in Lyra’s hands, glowed too. Now it would look like Trixie was playing it.
Provided Lyra could figure out how to use the stupid thing.
Troubador began to introduce Lyra, describing the recitals and small performances she’d given while at the Academy. “…one of the most remarkable students we’ve had, the first graduate of the dual music-magic program, and all around an incredible performer! Please give a warm welcome to Lyra Heartstrings!”
The crowd politely clapped their hooves on the ground.
“Alright, Trixie,” muttered Lyra. “Just… just keep everything going, okay? I’ll handle the rest.”
“Sure you will,” whispered Trixie. “You’re Lyra Heartstrings. You’re a great musician. You’re – ”
“Trixie.”
Trixie chuckled quietly, then smiled and raised her head. Her horn glowed a little more brightly, and the string moved just slightly.
Lyra began.
Okay, think! I can use these weird joints as fake hooves. This piece starts easy, I can do this. Come on.
Lyra bent the strange joints on her right paw so that the hard, bony parts were jutting out. She passed them near the strings once, checking the range, then brought them closer in. This would have been much easier if she could have actually seen her paw, but then again that would have meant she was visible, and then she’d have a whole separate set of problems.
She passed her paw against the first note. It played, a bright, clean tone that echoed through the air.
Okay, that’s the first note. Right, second note, same as the first.
She played the second note, then a small sequence. It was slow going, but the opening could be a little slow, that was just a phrasing thing. She’d make it up on the next sequence. It was coming, she moved her paws –
Wait. Forward or backwards? She still couldn’t judge the distance between her paws and the lyre like she could with her hooves, and she wasn’t sure how to move her paw to prepare for the next part. She froze for a moment, paralyzed in confusion, and as she jerked her paw to compensate, she accidentally brought it into the wrong note. A sharp, dissonant tone sounded, breaking the pure and clean atmosphere that she’d been building up.
No!
Trixie opened her mouth to babble something at the audience, so Lyra poked her in the side – harder this time. Come on! I can recover! Even Professor Eighth Note missed notes now and then!
She started again, but thoroughly flustered, her notes were uneven and arrhythmic. A staccato, bouncing tone – intended to be bright and spritely, winding up frantic – resounded, as Lyra tried to control her paws.
She was staring at her lyre, worried that, if she looked up at the audience, she would see scorn. She was crashing and burning, just like she’d feared – as she thought this, she missed a note, widening the interval between those surrounding it and giving them an unpleasant, incongruent feel – and she was out of time to practice or improve. Why in the world had she thought she could do this?
Because I’m Lyra Heartstrings.
It was a sudden thought, and it caused her pause just before she restarted the piece for the second time.
I’m Lyra Heartstrings, and I’m a great musician. Music is my special talent; it doesn’t matter that my cutie mark’s not visible. I’ve played this piece so often I know it in my sleep. And I’m going to play it now. She took a deep breath. I am.
First – calm myself. I’ll get through this, but I need to relax. She took a few deep breaths, ignoring Trixie’s whispered frantic comments and the murmurs of the audience. Okay. My teachers and Tavi always taught me to focus on the music during a performance, that if you’re still working out the mechanics of how to hoof each note you’re doing it wrong. I need to hear the music, not just think of how to play it. My body knows how to take it from there.
With a conscious effort, she forced thoughts of the audience, her body, even the lyre from her mind. She recalled the melody as she’d played it last night, before zebra magic had gone horribly awry. The first note was a C.
She let the ‘C’ fill her thoughts, picturing the perfect, clear quality. It needed to be bright, smooth, strong, energetic, with just the right volume. She listened to it in her inner ear, hearing it as perfectly as it playing it again. Play it, she thought.
And her body moved.
It wasn’t the bony joint of her paws, but the very tip, which extended and – in a move that Lyra wouldn’t have understood if she’d been thinking harder about it – stroked the string. The ‘C’ sounded.
Perfectly.
Lyra smiled and brought to mind the next few tones.
The piece started simply, with a few isolated notes and then a series of increasingly fast sequences. Lyra listened to them in her mind, felt them, and her body reacted accordingly, her oddly floppy claws reaching out and plucking at the correct strings. Then came a few simple chords, which were no more difficult. Lyra smiled as she felt her claws plucking multiple strings simultaneously – it actually felt just slightly easier than if she’d had to use hooves to do that – and the peppy major chords followed as a matter of course.
As she continued through the introduction, she missed an occasional note. Her muscle memory still wasn’t working perfectly in this form, and she would occasionally either focus too hard on the mechanics of playing or come across a section that was just a bit too hard to do instinctively. But she moved past it, playing around the rare error and making up for it with the next sequences of notes. And, as she played, her clawing grew more sure, and she played the last eight measures of the introduction perfectly. She was getting the hang of this!
The next section was much harder, but Lyra didn’t even think of that.
The chords were coming more quickly now, spreading out over the lyre, and ornamentations were starting to show up. Lyra’s longest claw slipped on the first trill, making a faint twanging sound which wasn’t supposed to be there, but she recovered and kept going. The grace notes and arpeggios led into the chords, giving them a faster and brighter energy and adding more movement to the piece. It was moving quickly now, not quite racing but at a faster clip than the ambling pace of the introduction. Still, Lyra was more than up to the challenge, and she couldn’t help but smile as she heard the piece building up.
The chords sped up again, now with extremely rapid note sequences between them. Lyra’s claws danced almost of their own accord over the strings. She knew, with the small amount of conscious thought that wasn’t devoted to focusing on the music, that if she tried too hard to focus on what she was doing it would all fall apart. But she didn’t let that give her pause. She just wouldn’t think about what her paws – claws – whatever were doing; she’d just let them go. She had more than enough to do thinking about the music –
A faint sound next to her made her glance away. Trixie had shifted her weight slightly, as if starting to buckle under the strain. Her horn still glowed a bright yellow; the lyre still seemed to play by magical power, but Trixie herself was almost shaking with exhaustion. Lyra’s eyes widened slightly. If Trixie collapsed, her illusions would fail too, and –
Thwump. Lyra’s distraction had cost her, her claws tangled on one of the strings and dragged it into another, ending the sequence with an atonal screech and forcing her to untangle and start it again.
Focus! I trust Trixie. She’s my friend, and she won’t fail me. She began the sequence again. I know it.
The sequence segued right into a very rapid chromatic section that raced – and it was indeed a race now – over the lyre, an alternating ascending-descending series that stretched the range of the lyre to its limits, as if to demonstrate the instrument’s full capacity. And, to keep it from being boring, there were all kinds of little ornaments in the chromatic section – grace notes, trills, faint echoes of the other previous themes.
Lyra met the challenge head on.
The resulting sequence of notes was a dizzying upwards and downwards spiral that seemed to carry the listeners up high into the air before a rapid descent back to the ground. The ornamentation added another dimension to the music and eventually grew into a melody all on its own, which first remained in the background behind the chromatic series before surging forwards and taking an equal share of the prominence. To balance two melodies, one chromatic and one tonal, was extraordinarily difficult, but for Lyra it seemed as natural as putting one hoof in front of the other. The chromatic section represented the full range of the notes Lyra had available to her; the tonal section showed how she could choose them to craft something beautiful. Materials and final product, together, in perfect harmony.
And so it continued. The piece had seven sections, and Lyra carried herself brilliantly through all of them. After the chromatic part was a long, slow, almost romantic movement which required the most subtle of shading, and then a staccato scherzo with extremely jumpy notes seeming to shoot out of her lyre as if fired from a cannon. Then came a part at medium speed, and with medium dynamics, but with the notes so tightly wound against each other that Lyra needed highly intricate clawing just to play them all without her claws and strings getting hopelessly tangled. The result, though, a rich melody that hovered amongst a few frequencies yet continually seemed to deepen and grow, was perfect.
The final section was a series of powerful chords and cadences, a sort of reward for the musician and audience for having the fortune to get this far and hear such beautiful music. The chords boomed out, resounding and echoing through the hall, and building into a massive climax that seemed to blast from the lyre. The music was bright but not blinding, energetic but not hyper, and powerful without quite being overwhelming. It was a perfect, beautiful ending that seemed to represent the entirety of the song – the intricacies of the romantic section, the rapid energy in the scherzo, the full range of notes introduced by the chromatic part – and bring them to their logical, and glorious conclusion.
Lyra ended with a perfect authentic cadence, then quickly lowered the lyre. “Bow,” she whispered.
Trixie, looking rather tired, jerked herself to her full height, then bowed.
The thunderous applause was even louder than the music.
Lyra grinned, both in relief – she’d done it! She’d played a piece while in this screwed up, crazy, zebra-addled form! – and in excitement. Canterlot had heard her now! This would be huge for her career. She could get auditions in orchestras, private concerts, recitals –
“Thank you!” said Trixie, in an unusually exhausted voice. “Thank you! And now the, uh, Lyra must leave you. Until next time!” And she ran offstage at full speed.
What? Hey, get back here! Lyra chased after her.
Trixie took off through the back rooms, Lyra chasing her. “Trixie, come back!” she hissed. “We need to bow more! They might want an encore!”
Trixie didn’t answer.
When Lyra finally caught up to Trixie, they were in a back alley, outside. The cold stung at Lyra, but she ignored it. “Trixie, we – ”
Trixie collapsed.
“Trixie?”
“Hi,” managed Trixie, rolling around so that she could see Lyra. “See? Told you I’d make sure everything was okay.”
Lyra rushed to her fallen friend’s side. Even as she did, a shudder passed through Trixie’s body – then all the illusions around it collapsed, either simultaneously or else so close to it that Lyra couldn’t tell. There were audible pops as they were transmuted into blue, wispy smoke that quickly floated up and away. The illusion disguising Trixie’s cape followed suite immediately thereafter – though the invisibility spell imbued into Trixie’s hat held out, at least, its magic imbued directly into the accessory rather than being constantly fed by Trixie.
“That’s not good…” Trixie moaned a little at the sight of her illusions all failing, as her eyes closed.
“Oh no,” Lyra said, grasping Trixie’s head and lifting her up slightly. As near as Lyra could tell without her horn, it looked like her friend had just overchanneled – expended nearly all the magic in her body, a dangerous proposition that could send a unicorn into a coma for days or weeks – or longer. “Oh, no, no, no, Trixie, you have to stay awake, you overchanneled and if you go to sleep you’ll – ”
Trixie opened one eye in annoyance. “I didn’t overchannel!” She exclaimed, then winced, putting a hoof to her head. “Ow…inside voice…I didn’t overchannel. Magic’s my special talent. I can’t overchannel.”
“That’s not true, Trixie. Not even a little.”
Trixie harrumphed. “Well,” she said, “it’ll take a lot more than that to bring down the Great and Powerful Trixie!”
Lyra blinked a few times, then let out a relieved chuckle as she sat down on her shins, wrapping her arms around her transformed body and trying to ignore the cold. After noticing this, Trixie’s horn glowed as her telekinesis wrapped around the clasp of her cape, or started to before her magic faltered and failed.
“Hang on, I’ve got it,” Lyra said, undoing Trixie’s cape herself. To her immense surprise, the unicorn didn’t object, instead just shifting so that Lyra could get her cape out from under her, then tie it around herself. Once done, she looked to Trixie, who had moved to sit on her stomach. “Thank-you,” she said.
Trixie eyed Lyra. “For what?” she asked. “You did all the work in there.”
“I’m not the one who collapsed from strain, though.”
Trixie considered. “That’s true…” she agreed, prompting another chuckle from Lyra, as she took off Trixie's hat in order to run one paw through her mane, getting an itch that had been bothing her. “We’ll call it a…a team effort, then. The illusioncraft of the Great and Powerful Trixie, and the musical talents of the Majestic and Lovely Lyra!”
Lyra glared at Trixie.
Trixie, to her surprise, matched it. “And I can’t believe you’re not getting paid – ”
The door to the alleyway opened with a bang as its metal struck the brick building it was attached to. “Lyra!” Troubadour called, looking around. “Lyra, you have to come back in, they’ll want an en…”
Troubadour stared at Lyra and Trixie.
Lyra and Trixie stared at Troubadour.
“…core…” Troubadour finished, just before something heavy from inside the building – it looked like a Prench horn – came flying out the door and struck him in the back of the head. The unicorn fell to the ground without a sound after that, and Bon Bon – after looking out the door to see if she needed to remove the burden of consciousness from any other ponies – came out from the concert hall
“Try not to be unconscious for too long, it’s super bad for you,” Bon Bon stated as she dragged Troubadour inside, then came back out and looked to the other two occupants of the alleyway, who had both gotten to their feet.
Hooves.
Whatever.
“Okay,” Bon Bon said, looking between the two of them, Lyra scrunching and un-scrunching Trixie's hat in her paws as she wondered if Bon Bon was about to resume her equicidal intentions towards Trixie. “It’s just about nine o’clock. We’re in an alley after having just committed assault and battery on a perfectly innocent pony – ”
“Where’s this we coming from?” Trixie demanded. “And how did you know where we were?”
“ – and Lyra is still stuck as a naked bear,” Bon Bon finished, ignoring Trixie’s demand. “So…what’s the plan?”
“I don’t think we have a plan,” Lyra mourned, looking to Trixie.
To her surprise, however, Trixie smiled. “Of course there’s a plan,” she said. “It’s even a good one this time!”
“Yes?”
“We go to the castle!” Trixie said, smiling. “I’m Luna’s personal student, they’ll let me in no problem, same with you, Bon Bon, you’ll be my guest. Heck, we can probably stay in my old room. Then we’ll just start looking for all the ingredients for the counter-spells we haven’t tried yet!”
Bon Bon considered for a moment, then nodded. “Okay,” she said, “good plan. How many counter-spells are left to try?”
“Two or three, can’t remember,” Trixie said. “I dunno, check the book, I marked the pages.”
There was a moment of silence, as Bon Bon stared at Trixie. There was a conspicuous lack of any kind of book either on or near her. There was an equally obvious lack of one on Trixie, while all Lyra held was Trixie’s hat and her own lyre.
---
“Huh,” Noteworthy said, as the blue earth pony picked up the book that was stamped with the Equestrian seal, which had been sitting on the seat of the cabin, carelessly forgotten by its owners. He paged through it, setting aside his cleaning tools for a moment as he looked it over, but he couldn’t make heads or tails of it, and more than half didn’t seem to be in Equestrian.
“Well, something else for the lost and found,” Noteworthy decided as he tossed the book onto his cart, where it sat next to several hats and scarves, as well as a lost wallet (sadly, empty when Noteworthy had found it). “Honestly, I can’t believe how forgetful some ponies can be…”
Stats
Page generated in 0.03 seconds
Total duration
1,104 users online
1,776,294 hits today, 2,004,447 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
Oh, Trixie. What will your forgetful cause to go wrong next?
I loved the Bonbon reactions. You've captured her voice perfectly.
(Incidentally, does this being #9 mean that there's a #7 and #8 that we're going to get later?)
998019
Nope, it just means that I can't count. Fixed that now.
To be fair Bon Bon and Lyra were both also in the train cabin.
998036: Yeah, but it's her book. She should take good care of her things. *wags finger*
Anyway, happy I could help!
Whoooops. Well, at least we can't say anything wasn't happening to Trixie and Lyra during 'Family Matters' now.
Hm... Octavia was there. Might make things a bit...awkward.
Oh lord, they forgot the book.........
This is bad.....
Wow! So much tension, not just Lyra nearly panicking to the point she could have screwed the whole performance up, but also Trixie's ability to hold all those illusions in place. Thanks to anachronistic order, it was already mostly a given the first would work out, other wise there'd be a few fics in need of a rewrite. It was also a rather assured certainty that Trixie would hold out though the performance. Her ability to do so without nearly killing herself though was far more shaky; well, I guess we even new that would be fine enough, but still. Anyway, it was quite impressive to see the sheer length Trixie was willing to go through for sake of friendship.
Then of course there is BonBon, who has been turning out to be a far more violently frightening pony than I'd ever imagined. Not complaining there, just commenting.
998019
I guess a measure of congratulations is in order for you as well in delivering this chapter. Though I've pretty much already complemented you, as best I can, on your ability to present music in a text based format so there really isn't much more I can say specifically.
998120
We already knew that. It was briefly mentioned in Musicians and Dreamers, or something like that.
998247
I don't think she's normally this violent, but for some reason when writing her in panic mode I just can't get that bit of Young Frankenstein out of my head where everyone is choking everyone and playing charades.
998264
True enough. The poor girl has been under quite a bit of undo stress today. Though at this point she's also so seemingly calm about it all that I still find it all rather scary. Not a bad thing, I quite enjoy it actually; it's just hardly what I would have ever expected prior to this story, even including the brief preview we got in Family Matters.
EDIT: Actually I'm almost starting to think we should maybe add BonBon to that list of ponies that Raindrops would be hesitant to get into a tussle with. Though I had kinda liked the idea that Cheerilee would be the only non-obviously big/tough pony on said list
998247
It is? You remember which chapter?
Wow. Murphy decided that Trixie and Lyra were his best friends today, didn't he?
Woohoo! Yaay Lyra!
Also, I like Octavia being her mentor. That was nice. And the amount of detail in this chapter was really amazing and impressive.
Ya know, it's kinda funny....in 9/10ths of Lyra and Bon Bon stories it's Lyra who's portrayed as the nutball and Bon Bon whose the level headed mare who has to keep her out of trouble...and possibly jail. Nice role reversal. Bon Bon's gonna have a record by the time this thing's over!
Wow Bon Bon sure is violent. Oh well its for her love so that makes it okay.
And that ending, of course things do go as planned, Trixie is involved.
998247 998264 I concur with Emeral, the tension in this chapter is amazing. And then BonBon to the rescue! ...but, who's going to save everyone from her?
(PS that wasn't one of table sized typewriters from "Ponyville Confidential" was it? That might take it from looking premeditated to outright gratuitous.
)
998099 G&C2, your description of the performance is compelling, beautiful, and contains enough context and clues so someone like me, who recognises the words but wouldn't bet money on knowing what they mean, feels like they can follow it. Halfway through my first cuppa of the day. I'm suitably impressed, so have a SpikeTache.
998797
I'm actually going to change it to be a Prench horn, since that's probably a bit more likely to be found backstage.
Though, remember that the typewriters from "Confidential" were scaled for usage by foals...
998797: Aw, thanks! *big smile* I'm really glad the scene went over well.
This was flipping awesome, the whole thing. I could easily imagine it like it were animated; especially the scene in the alley.
998299 Bon-Bon terrifies everypony except Lyra.
Best matching music I could think of
*ending*
Whoops...
999661
It's not necessarily what I think she was playing here, but when it comes to bards that play harp-like instruments, this is always the first bit of music that comes to my mind. (link)
Somethng occurs to me....
Now that Lyra has some time to not worry about a performance, will she learn to love her hands?
admit, I have...one theory on how she learns the advantages of hands, but I won't say it here.
Children might read it.
I had Ballad of the Goddess playing in my head while reading...
1004426
Memories?
I just chose green text because it's visually distinct from black without being distracting like red or blue
Bravo!
"…getting an ich that had been bothing her."
I think you mean "…getting an itch that had been bothering her."
Excellent, excellent performance and just... everything! I hope Lyra and Bonbon are a lot kinder to Trixie after this.
That looked like a lovely description of playing music. I can tell because I didn't understand half of it.
Wheeeeeeeeeeee I'm not musical at all. Why am I not in LA yet?
I have to comment all the things.
I looked sideways and for a moment I thought Twilight was facehoofing at me:
. I don't blame her. There's a sensible person in my head struggling to get out, and Luna's starry mane he's displeased.
998019
Can I just compliment on the awesome guy here. I mean he is truely fantastic, why? Because he gets it!
See, fanfiction is a visual medium. You have no idea what I sound like while doing this and I have no idea what you guys sound like. So when an author puts in music into his stories, its either a link to a song so we know what's being sung (Or to the tune of) or a link to th orchestral. Bad writers on the other hand will just put in a song or a music piece and have the characters comment on it. Like so
"Look at her, her music is beautiful"
"This sound is utterly amazing!"
The problem is, that is the author saying that. We can't hear it, so we would never know. Its like wearing headphones and telling me, "This song is awesome" then never letting me have the headset. All I will do is just smile and nod.
But Grass and clouds here gets it, and remembers that he has to describe it, and bring out the raw emotion of the music through words and lines. I may not know what 90% of those words mean, but I do know what loud, excited, and energectic mean. This gives me the illusion of seeing Lyra playing like a mad mare on her chords, or soft and fluffy makes me see Lyra playing to a slow beat. This mix, allows me to see what Lyra is doing, and makes me feel something. That is how you properly intergrate music into a visual medium.
I CAN SEE MUSIC!
Why's her text here?
_____________
998019
Major Kudos on this chapter. Seriously love the musical canonical fics you come up with.
I have come from seven years in the future to say that Bon Bon is crazy, I like this story, and a minor minor nitpick: Lyra's hands are currently invisible.
9856195
Huh...good point. I just replaced it with "Lyra’s claws danced almost of their own accord over the strings"