008 :: VIDEO & TEXT

[stimulations]

[The feed opens on a very green view of some dense shrubbery. It holds there for a second before panning to the right, where the greenery breaks at one of the many paths Agriculture have slowly been clearing through the overgrown jungle of the Oxygen Gardens' upper levels.

There's something blocking this particular path, though: an instrument that looks similar to a piano, but smaller and of a more ornate shape. It's clearly out of keeping with its surroundings, would look better maybe in someone's library or up on a stage (or in a museum), and quite how it got there can't be determined, the foliage around it completely undisturbed - but it hasn't been there long enough for any of the plants to encroach and start making it a fixed feature of the gardens. Yet.

The video stays there for a moment, giving the viewer a good look at the harpsichord, before Josias turns the comms to face himself, expression quietly amused. Then he cuts the feed, with the following text sent immediately after, obviously typed up in advance.]

As lovely as it is to see a real harpsichord in person, the gardens are hardly the proper place for it - for numerous reasons, least of all being damage to the instrument itself.

I'm assuming, given the way we tend to be delivered things from home, that this belongs to or has some significance to someone on board. If you could come claim it as quickly as possible, please. I'm sure we can even spare some staff to help you move it to a better location, if need be.

Thank you.

Comments

text.

[onetouch]

A harpsichord... in the gardens.

[ it sounded like a deranged version of clue, to ned. ]

That's too specific not to be sought after. I hope it finds its proper place.

text.

[stimulations]

Perhaps the ship would like us to have more outdoor concerts. If they could be called 'outdoor'.

I hope so too. It would be a shame to see it damaged or shoved away in storage somewhere.

text.

[onetouch]

You won't let that happen, will you?

[ not that ned was overly invested in it, he just wanted to see it claimed. ]

text.

[stimulations]

I'm not quite sure what I can do about it if no one comes forward. I wasn't precisely looking for the responsibility of a homeless antique instrument when I set out this morning.

text.

[onetouch]

No. No of course not.

But now that it's there and you're there, don't you feel at least a little responsible?

text;

[sweetbreads]

[ Hannibal debated replying by video or text, each having their own consequences, but he settles on the latter. Clarice is frantic energy, and she might respond to him having video conversations with oblivious strangers in quite unpredictable ways. ]

If you would very gently lift the lid and look inside. There should be a panel there, painted parchment five centuries old, depicting Hercules battling the flesh eating mares of Diomedes.

[ Because really, what else would be painted on Hannibal Lecter's harpsichord? ]

text;

[stimulations]

[There's a slight delay in reply, enough for Josias to do as instructed. Even if he wasn't attempting to find the instrument's owner, the description might be enough to lead him to check, anyway.]

Well, that's a rather macabre detail to have on a harpsichord. I'll assume that means it's yours, then? Not that I imagine we have that many harpsichord owners on board, to be entirely honest.

text;

[sweetbreads]

The trials of Hercules are depicted on the external panels; anyone could guess that the same was true of the inner panel. My intent was only to identify myself as its owner without question.

The brutality of the image is rather shocking, isn't it? Do you know the story?

text;

[stimulations]

I suppose it is, when I linger on it. Though that probably says something more about my exposure to depictions of violence than the image itself.

The Eighth Labour of Hercules. Though there are two common versions, both end with Diomedes being fed to his own horses, and the consumption of human flesh calming their madness. If I were in a better state, I could name them for you.

text;

[sweetbreads]

Podargus, Lampon, Xanthus, Dinus; the later named more terrible than the others. I find it fascinating that they were mares, myself, as much as anything. Typically stallions are perceived to be the fiercer of the two, yet Pegasus - white, divine, who struck a spring wherever his foot fell - was gentle, noble and courageous. Combine man with horse, however, and one has a very different story.

I believe I may be upon you in a moment.

video;

[redhotsummers]

[Alex looks tired. He's always struggled with insomnia, but never this bad. Rubbing at his eyes for a moment before speaking, he lets out a breath.]

Well, at least it's not something horrible.

[After what October got sent this past jump, Alex wouldn't be surprised if there were dead bodies inside or something.]

text;

[stimulations]

[Josias looks at the screen for a moment, admittedly concerned by Alex's appearance. He isn't precisely feeling great himself, but in the immediate, keeping the tone light seems like the best course.]

Yes, there's always that. Though we should give it some time. Perhaps it's a haunted harpsichord, or it curses anyone who happens to hear it played. I'm sure there's still plenty of potential here for horribleness.

permatext

[redhotsummers]

[Probably better to switch to text, anyways.]

If that's the case, maybe we should burn it. Save the owner the trouble.

[Heine already had him destroy some weird painting he had gotten, after all.]

[stimulations]

Burning it could unleash some terrible evil previously trapped amidst its strings to roam the ship freely. Or could bring the wrath of the owner down on us - after all, such an instrument could just be one piece of their grand collection of cursed and unholy objects.

[redhotsummers]

See, what would I do without you? I never would have thought of those things, and would have ended up cursed by some horrible thing.

text;

[humanistic]

Nice. Since when does stuff from home shows up in places that aren't the lockers?

text;

[stimulations]

I'd make a guess at 'since objects were too large'. Fitting an intact harpsichord into a locker might have been an achievement too great even for our lovely terror ship to manage.

text;

[humanistic]

Right.

But just large objects. Nothing standard sized showing up in unexpected places, yeah?

not here.

[look]

[ huh. ]

not here.

[humanistic]

[go away that's a totally innocent question]

text;

[stimulations]

Having not experienced it myself, I honestly couldn't tell you. If you're worried about some personal item, by and large the ship does seem to deliver everything to the lockers.

[jilt]

Has the owner made themself known? It's a lovely instrument, I'd hope it wouldn't languish unclaimed.

[stimulations]

It appears so. Rather strongly, too. I think he was concerned someone might try to pinch it.

[jilt]

It's not a wholly unfounded concern. People can be so thoughtless when lovely items are involved.

[ says the woman who steals things for a living. ]

[stimulations]

Yes, but it's a bit big.