Fantasy Melody of a Page Turner

[Satanic Nightjar]

August Clearwater
​

The crisp fall air infiltrated his admittedly too-thin jacket and sent a shiver crawling up his spine. August had always been rather sensitive to changes in weather, but he still restrained from quickening his pace. He was determined to enjoy his enchanting scenery while he still had the chance. He'd made the long, rather difficult journey to the village with great excitement and very little hesitation. Invited by a friend of his late father's, Paul Houston, it was a meeting for only the most talented, promising young artists from across the country. Despite his initial discomfort with the temperature, he was quickly adjusting to it, and the beautiful sights easily balanced everything out. Even as he walked, he couldn't help but admire the forest that surrounded him as he strolled down the path that lead from his hotel to the center of the village.

Magnificent trees towered over him, bursting with color and life. The cobble path beneath his shoes was directly out of a fairy tale, the streets of an impressive medieval kingdom from one of his favorite books. Birds chirped in their high, clear voices, and their songs carried throughout the entire area. The sound transported him an infinite number of fantastical of forests and lands that had been planted in his mind and blossomed into entire worlds, alive and constantly growing. Even the simple act of being there was inspiring, triggering ideas and creativity swirling through his head like an uncontrollable flood.

When August reached his destination, his breath caught in his throat. The building was beautifully constructed, the tiniest of details carved into the dark wood. The relatively small porch that was laid out before the main entrance was decorated with multiple skillfully carved pillars and railing. The sturdy steps that lead up to the door were ringed by a small garden that boasted an entire rainbow of colors he wasn't even aware existed. Lanterns that seemed to be levitating emitted a warm, golden glow that welcomed visitors into it's comforting light. Even the door knob was impressive, as he twisted it carefully and eased the door open with a slight push. He was greeted with a nod and occasional handshake from the guests, who were eventually directed towards the main room.

A long table extended from one end of the room to the other, surrounded by cushioned chairs that were all suitable for a king. Each seat at the table was left room for comfort and privacy for writing. Multiple pages were provided for sudden inspiration, and a cup of coffee was placed just far enough away from each to be within reach without being dangerous to the paper. Bookshelves lined the walls, packed full yet still remaining perfectly organized through the chaos of having thousands of books contained in a single room. Some were obviously ancient, some appearing to be recently acquired by the owner. Many of the guests were inspecting the collection, taking care not to disturb anything, while others were admiring the artwork that decorated the walls above the shelves. A variety of instruments even made its home in the corner, so apparently these meetings were for everyone, not just writers like him.

Their leader seemed to be waiting for everyone to arrive before making his appearance, which was perfectly fine with August. He appreciated having some time to discover all of the wonderful things in this room. It was like he'd just stumbled into a artist's heaven, and he could be here for hours without ever growing tired of it. Suddenly he was deeply grateful for the opportunity Paul had presented him with. He'd only begun to write more seriously, and this was precisely how he wanted to get started.

In a few minutes, the initial excitement had for the most part worn off, and the majority had sat down. Scanning the table, he examined each of the artists attending and came to the conclusion that many of them were far more experienced than him. Many of them appeared to be years older than him, but none had the look of doubt in their eyes that so many older people had when he told them he was an author. They seemed to be an exceptionally interesting group of people, he was definitely going to enjoy the next week he spend with them. Assuming he could avoid embarrassing himself in the process, which seemed to be all he was capable of in situations like this.

IdyllicDreamer

 

[IdyllicDreamer]

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[div class=PostieBox][div class=PostieBall][div class=PostieAvie][/div][/div][div class=PostieName]Sandra Lassar[/div][div class=Credit]Created by IdyllicDreamer[/div]
Every portion of the day had to be carefully planned out, from what she wanted to eat, what she would say, all the way to what exactly she planned on wearing. Eat the wrong thing, and she risked so many different social problems, bad breath, stomach turning, nausea, there were so many ways today could have gone wrong. In the end she decided to eat light, something simple that would hopefully settle her nerves. How she talked to the other people here, what she said, the way she said it, would change so many aspects about how all of this would end up going. It was stressful, but if she let any of that show who would believe the girl who cracked 'had it'?

What she would wear would end up being another issue all together. An issue that very well could have made her become a felon when this trip was over, because when she returned home she was going to commit matricide. A thought that swirled through her mind once more as she felt the ache in her feet from those damnable heels that Sandra certainly hadn't packed. Her mother had packed them, after rummaging through the supplies she had packed for the trip. Seemingly she had also taken the shoes she had picked out to match her dress for the event. Which left her nothing but those horrid, uncomfortable, heels, and nowhere near enough time to procure an alternative.

Her mother was a rather talented pianist, and while she was currently angry with the other woman if not for her... Well, Sandra wouldn't even have had the opportunity to witness the event. To make potential connections here, networking as it might have been called. Unfortunately for her mother, Sandra wasn't as interested in the piano as she was in simply using her own voice. Writing, and singing, the words that lingered inside of her head every day. From her experience thus far, she was pretty good at it too. At least according to the people she had come across. Pretty good, though, didn't exactly bring about fame, or discovery. That took time, effort, and putting herself out there.

Which was why she was here, wearing those heels. The same heels that made her nervous while walking the cobbled path, ruining most of her ability to really enjoy how scenic it might have been. Far too paranoid that a misstep would result in the actual heel of it being caught between two of the stones. Yet it would all be worth it when she was inside, speaking with the others. Then came the moment where she saw those instruments, out of the way, off into the corner. Beautiful things. The majesty of the estate itself was nothing compared to them. While she was far more interested in singing itself, that didn't mean she couldn't appreciate the masterful work that went into the instruments that complimented her desired craft.

It would be as she made her way over towards them, wanting to inspect them all the closer, when it happened. The next step she took and suddenly everything was gone, the world falling away from her as one of those horrible heels broke out from under her, sending her crashing into a young man she was passing by with a startled cry. She really would kill her mother.
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[Satanic Nightjar]

AuGust cleARWAteR

August had been admiring the incredible collection of books for far too long. Honestly, the others probably believed he was a bit crazy, which was certainly not the desired effect of dragging himself here wearing clothes far less casual than usual and hair that had been actually brushed for once in his life, but it was worth it. As an author, this was practically a dream come true, and he was going to take advantage of every second of it. Only after most of the guests had begun to find a chair along the table did he reluctantly turn to do the same.

It seemed that nearly everyone had arrived, and everyone that hadn't was possibly going to miss out on the introductions. The host was coming down a staircase, greeted by old friends and strangers alike. Smiling, he realized how excited he was for the meeting to begin. This was a grand opportunity, and every second of it was precious. Changing the his direction, he moved towards the stairs to introduce himself along with a few others, wearing his most charming smile upon his features.

Making his way across the room, he was interrupted by a new guest entering the house. He hardly took notice of her at first, until she suddenly fell the the ground, releasing a startled cry. Surprised, he hurried over to her, crouching ever so slightly down to make sure she was okay. She didn't appear to be injured, at least not seriously, so he extended his hand to help her up. "Hey, that was some fall. Are you hurt?"

Interactions: Sandra

Location: Meeting

Mood: Nuetral

Outfit: here

 

[IdyllicDreamer]

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[div class=PostieBox][div class=PostieBall][div class=PostieAvie][/div][/div][div class=PostieName]Sandra Lassar[/div][div class=Credit]Created by IdyllicDreamer[/div]
If Sandra were to say she was mortified in that moment, it would have been a massive understatement. She could practically feel the burn spread across her face as embarrassment traveled across her features. This was not the way she had wanted to gain attention here, not really how she wanted the eyes of the room to be on her. Fortunately few were actually concerned with her much beyond that, since she didn't seem to be injured, and with the young man rushing to help her most probably weren't very worried. He made the situation slightly easier, if only just the slightest. Sandra wouldn't quite be able to meet his gaze, though she wouldn't hesitate to accept the hand so that she could stand once more.

"Just a little in the pride." She admitted, tone a level of dry humor as she tried to make light of the situation. Glancing down towards those heels, the one broken leaving the shoes uneven, it was hard to imagine they ever could have been made harder to walk in as they now would be. At that thought she would look back up though, not exactly wanting to be rude now to him, whoever he was.

"Oh, right, I'm sorry... Thank you, for... helping me up." While she wouldn't have expected the whole room to come over, he was still the only person who had come to help her, "I'm Sandra, nice to meet you."

If only it hadn't been just after making herself look like a clumsy idiot.
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