Post by Vio on May 4, 2024 17:46:02 GMT -5
Giselle #1
“Ah, this place? You’re on San Faldo, Miss,” the sailor had told her as the ship had made port in the famed ‘Carnival Town’ of the Grand Line. It was a place, as she’d been told, constantly brimming with festivities and celebrations. No matter the day, the people found reason to celebrate almost anything that could spark reasonable jubilations. The entire concept was baffling, though she supposed it was not too far-fetched given the tendencies of the upper echelons of her homeland. At least here the festivities were not blatantly clandestine attempts at establishing business connections and garnering political favour.
Giselle had found herself stuck in a world where water was everywhere; an endless expanse of blue surrounded this and every other land, she supposed. The air was thick and enriched, but seasoned with a saline tang that her nose wasn’t quite used to. The only cloud she could ever see drifted high out of reach, shifting and dancing across the skies. She had gazed up at the pale azure above, itself not too different from home, as she pondered what her next best move was to be.
She needed money. Although the crew of sailors that had stumbled upon her had been charitable enough to give her some funds by which to settle, she was unfamiliar with the economic climate of this foreign land, let alone the currency itself. To that end, she at least had a plan, but putting it into action needed some kind of traction that she just could not yet gain for herself. Still, she had found a quieter section of the city to contemplate in. An open warehouse and yard currently left vacant as much of the city got on with today’s fascination—a fancy dress street party—had become a temporary practice studio…
“Darkened dynasty, endless rivalry, meeting violently, you can’t change me,” Miss Göteborg spoke in rhythm, not particularly expressing her talents as she considered the pitch and pace of words to be woven. Visions of two layers of a land far off flashed in her mind’s eye, stinging her heart as she recalled bitter moments wherein she was bound by arbitrary rules and expectations. A glimpse of a piano. An ornate concert hall of crystal chandeliers and velvet-draped balconies. Sparkling drinks and the clandestine clinking of glasses. Lights dimming, turning shapes to shadows.
She grimaced, straightened her back, white wings perking up almost aggressively as she faced the open doors of the warehouse. Various boxes stored mannequins that served as placeholders for party pieces in what might have been considered a downright offensive display of colour. For now, they would be her audience—the shadows cast upon them by the unlit building a reflection of audiences she had once stood before. Air flooded her lungs.“Darkened dynasty.
Endless rivalry.
Meeting violently.
You can’t change me.”
“First it’s ebony.
Then it’s ivory.
Making revelry.
You çȁṉ’𝘵 ḅȓęăķ ᵯɇ!”
“Can’t stop and I will never hit the brakes!
All nine levels and no matter what it takes!
All these places and their shadow-figured shapes!
‘Bout to make their last mistakes!
There āŕȩ ñө ṃõȑȩ ɇȿƈȁᵽȇᵴ…!”
Fwuuh… Air whistled softly through her nose as she paused, unsure of the next step. Short, certain lines sung in a lower growl had shifted to a sharper, angrier expression falling into a final, guttural bark. Without musical accompaniment, it felt absent, but her brain had filled in the silence with corruptions of orchestral equipment that had once backed far fairer phonics…
Göteborg Giselle | #e3dac9 | Spoken & Soft Singing
Göteborg Giselle | #702963 | Harsh & Guttural Vocals
