Is that so? I play, as well. My Stradivarius was not generous enough to take the multiversal trip to this world with me, but should I find my hands on another instrument, I would be happy to perform for you.
[His fingers itch for the strings, from time to time. Which is better than itching for something else, at least.]
I am no concert performer, but I do not consider myself to be merely amateur, either.
[His playing is a slight point of pride. But just slight.]
[ It seems they both enjoy having strings at their fingertips, although they are clearly very, very different strings. ]
I would enjoy that, [ as much as she can enjoy something. ] The threads can be quite good at finding things, as you know. Perhaps I will pay more mind to music shops for you, on the off chance that there is a decent violin for a modest price.
[ The only caveat to this plan is she has no idea what makes for a good quality instrument, so she may just send him on occasional goose chases. ]
[He actually quirks a smile at that. It is nice of her to offer, but he cannot help but retort.]
My dear, I am not sure that "decent violin" and "modest price" often exist in the same breath. I would not be opposed to your aid, of course, but it is more likely that one will fall into my lap as a reward for a case well-solved.
[This is not bragging; this is just what happens to him a lot.]
Though that requires solving cases in the first place. Building a reputation is key, which you are no doubt assisting me with now, and that is all I ask for.
[Well, speaking of cases to solve! Down the hall and past a pair of double doors, they enter the theater proper, stage and all. It is empty, but well-lit and tended to. The curtain is drawn, however, so it is difficult to see what is on stage, though her threads may sense that the starting scene of a performing show is already set up. It depicts a lady's bedroom, ornate and cozy, with a large mirror beside the bed.]
[ Hmm... it would make sense that he would be fortunate in such a way. Although, she will keep it in mind regardless. She does enjoy finding things... That is one of many reasons she agreed to this.
With her threads well ahead of them, fast as they are, Aglaea is already well acquainted with the room they step into. It is definitely very different compared to the open air theaters in Okhema, although she still finds the room interesting. She hums sweetly as she moves down the aisle. ]
I hope they won't mind a pair of curious onlookers. [ She approaches the stage, turning her back to the stage before girlishly lifting herself up onto it. While not a beautiful movement, there is charm to it. Her fingers slip under the heavy curtain and lift it high. Her thumb brushes over the velvet. ]
I nearly envy the fabric quality of their curtain. I wonder if they would miss it, if it were to go missing as well?
[That "unless..." might as well be lit up in neon lights, hanging above her head, for how Holmes can clearly intuit it. He had seen the result of all her sewing and tailoring efforts already, and he knows such thick and velvety material must be tempting.
He huffs an almost-laugh.]
I imagine they might have a few words for you, should their curtains suddenly run off and be made into a dress.
[Allez hop! Up he goes, all long limb hopping atop the stage with very little effort, though perhaps with about as half as grace as Aglaea — it's an unfair comparison, though.]
The proprietors are very aware of my presence here today, so do not worry about threats of trespassing. Shall we continue, then? There is a large mirror behind that curtain, and I think that is of particular interest.
[ It would also be a truly bizarre undertaking to try to steal an entire theater's curtain by ones self. But it has been some time since she has seen so much fabric at once... it makes her miss the days of frivolous tailoring.
She smirks, her weird sense of humor luckily well-received. She says nothing, though her empty eyes do seem to stare briefly at him. She follows his recommendation, ducking under the curtain and holding it up long enough for he, too, to catch its end and follow in after her.
He elucidates the mirror, so she approaches it plainly, her hand tracing its frame. ] This, no? Might I ask what about it intrigues you?
[It is a large and ornate full-length mirror, and those with particularly keen powers of deduction will note that the bottom is scuffed as though it has been moved around quite a bit in its time. This, of course, is not surprising — it is a prop in a play, after all.
But that is not why he brought her here. Holmes can see that, of course, but he cannot view things in the exact same way as herself.]
I was told that for all but one of the productions, everything is as you see it right now. And during that one instance, all that was changed was the mirror — replaced by another of its ilk. So, the question is: why was this one temporarily whisked away? For repairs? There is no trace of previous damage done to either the glass or the frame, and no one I've questioned remembers it ever shattering.
[He wonders if something had been done to it before it was returned. She could intuit this with eae from him, if she wanted — as well as the fact that there is something pinging magical about it, assuming her threads can determine it. Magical but... distant.]
[ She nods softly, her threads regarding him as he speaks and the mirror as it is explained. She is quiet, thoughtful. And then decides to offer her own small explanation: ]
As you may realize, the Threads will curl for even a particle of light, and it is that which allows me to "see" color. They are unfathomable in the detail they offer me of the world around me. Yet, I cannot always trust my threads – and it is not unreasonable for them to lie to me, as the eyes of any other can occasionally "trick" the mind. There are those who can hide their hearts from me in a lie. An illusion crafted by this world has already once slipped by my senses. [ It bothers her that the illusion had pulled the wool over her unseeing eyes, but that's neither here nor there. ]
I mention as much, hoping you will understand what I say may not always be what is most true.
That said, for this mirror... I do, indeed, feel some small quiver in the airs around it. Not unlike how a vocalist holds a hum in practice, yet naturally pitchless.
[ Her threads stretch further, searching for the alleged mirror of its ilk. ]
[ She nods as well, understanding. Although her prowess for observation lay in the intricacies emotions give, it's certainly a stance she can appreciate. How Romance of her. ]
I fear that this resonance it has is, unfortunately, nothing I can grasp more upon than what is at the surface. The combustion of an engine can seem as much magic to the threads as a stellaron harbored in a body. [ The hell is a stellaron? She quickly moves on: ]
Holmes, if I may ask. Have you taken the time to investigate the mirror which matches the one here? [ She gestures toward it as she steps closer to him. ] It does seem the piece of the puzzle that is not present.
It's all right, he can ask later. Her analogy is not completely lost on him, besides.]
I have not. [Raising his brows.] Though it has occurred to me to go looking, if I were in the company of someone who could locate such faraway items with more ease than I.
[ She only sort of knows what a stellaron is, anyway.
It's such a wonderfully (un?)subtle way to make the request that she can't help the smile that, miraculously, touches her eyes as she regards him. A small gesture of the hand suggests she already has a mind for where they need to look.
Luckily, the route to the basement isn't so far off – stage right and a single turn to the left will take them to the somewhat creepy, narrow stairs down to the basement. There's spiderwebs everywhere. Can we stop the fancy weirdo from playing with spiders?! Well, since someone has recently passed down these stairs, yes, for now. ]
You should be looking for a beige sheet down here. I can't be certain it's the mirror in question, but its shape and size seem reasonably close.
[The brightness that reaches his own eyes is luminous, likely heard in his tone if not reverberating in his very spirit. Holmes is—as she no doubt has recognized—the type to get very excited about a case making promising progress, and he knew for a fact that her presence here would not go amiss.
That energy still does not dissipate even as they descend down said creepy, narrow stairs to the basement. He's wandered into worse places by far.]
In which case... [He adds in response to her description.] These eyes will need a bit more light to see by.
[At the bottom of the stairs, he sees a light switch, flicking it on as the room floods with brightness. It is musty down here; not unused, of course, though there are parts of the basement clearly ignored over others. But in the far corner, perhaps there is a large item with a beige sheet draped over it.]
[ Aglaea offers a light cough as she fans dust away from her face before beelining toward their objective. ]
There are certainly a great deal of props here, [ she comments idly, her head turning as if to "look" at her surroundings. ] And it's all quite dusty. I suspect a rummage sale would do them more good than most of these items do currently.
[ As she narrows on their quarry, she moves promptly ahead of him. It is wedged deeply between two tall and wide stacks of boxes. An easy object to miss, and suspiciously hidden! As she speaks, she hesitates to reach between the cracks to draw it out. ] This, however, seems comparably less dusty than that which is around it. And I fear out of my reach. Holmes, your arms are somewhat longer than mine, would you mind?
[ As a seamstress, it is incredibly important to be strangely in-tune with the exact measurements of every person she meets. ]
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no subject
Is that so? I play, as well. My Stradivarius was not generous enough to take the multiversal trip to this world with me, but should I find my hands on another instrument, I would be happy to perform for you.
[His fingers itch for the strings, from time to time. Which is better than itching for something else, at least.]
I am no concert performer, but I do not consider myself to be merely amateur, either.
[His playing is a slight point of pride. But just slight.]
no subject
I would enjoy that, [ as much as she can enjoy something. ] The threads can be quite good at finding things, as you know. Perhaps I will pay more mind to music shops for you, on the off chance that there is a decent violin for a modest price.
[ The only caveat to this plan is she has no idea what makes for a good quality instrument, so she may just send him on occasional goose chases. ]
no subject
My dear, I am not sure that "decent violin" and "modest price" often exist in the same breath. I would not be opposed to your aid, of course, but it is more likely that one will fall into my lap as a reward for a case well-solved.
[This is not bragging; this is just what happens to him a lot.]
Though that requires solving cases in the first place. Building a reputation is key, which you are no doubt assisting me with now, and that is all I ask for.
[Well, speaking of cases to solve! Down the hall and past a pair of double doors, they enter the theater proper, stage and all. It is empty, but well-lit and tended to. The curtain is drawn, however, so it is difficult to see what is on stage, though her threads may sense that the starting scene of a performing show is already set up. It depicts a lady's bedroom, ornate and cozy, with a large mirror beside the bed.]
no subject
With her threads well ahead of them, fast as they are, Aglaea is already well acquainted with the room they step into. It is definitely very different compared to the open air theaters in Okhema, although she still finds the room interesting. She hums sweetly as she moves down the aisle. ]
I hope they won't mind a pair of curious onlookers. [ She approaches the stage, turning her back to the stage before girlishly lifting herself up onto it. While not a beautiful movement, there is charm to it. Her fingers slip under the heavy curtain and lift it high. Her thumb brushes over the velvet. ]
I nearly envy the fabric quality of their curtain. I wonder if they would miss it, if it were to go missing as well?
[ A very, very silly joke. Unless.... ]
no subject
He huffs an almost-laugh.]
I imagine they might have a few words for you, should their curtains suddenly run off and be made into a dress.
[Allez hop! Up he goes, all long limb hopping atop the stage with very little effort, though perhaps with about as half as grace as Aglaea — it's an unfair comparison, though.]
The proprietors are very aware of my presence here today, so do not worry about threats of trespassing. Shall we continue, then? There is a large mirror behind that curtain, and I think that is of particular interest.
no subject
She smirks, her weird sense of humor luckily well-received. She says nothing, though her empty eyes do seem to stare briefly at him. She follows his recommendation, ducking under the curtain and holding it up long enough for he, too, to catch its end and follow in after her.
He elucidates the mirror, so she approaches it plainly, her hand tracing its frame. ] This, no? Might I ask what about it intrigues you?
no subject
But that is not why he brought her here. Holmes can see that, of course, but he cannot view things in the exact same way as herself.]
I was told that for all but one of the productions, everything is as you see it right now. And during that one instance, all that was changed was the mirror — replaced by another of its ilk. So, the question is: why was this one temporarily whisked away? For repairs? There is no trace of previous damage done to either the glass or the frame, and no one I've questioned remembers it ever shattering.
[He wonders if something had been done to it before it was returned. She could intuit this with eae from him, if she wanted — as well as the fact that there is something pinging magical about it, assuming her threads can determine it. Magical but... distant.]
no subject
As you may realize, the Threads will curl for even a particle of light, and it is that which allows me to "see" color. They are unfathomable in the detail they offer me of the world around me. Yet, I cannot always trust my threads – and it is not unreasonable for them to lie to me, as the eyes of any other can occasionally "trick" the mind. There are those who can hide their hearts from me in a lie. An illusion crafted by this world has already once slipped by my senses. [ It bothers her that the illusion had pulled the wool over her unseeing eyes, but that's neither here nor there. ]
I mention as much, hoping you will understand what I say may not always be what is most true.
That said, for this mirror... I do, indeed, feel some small quiver in the airs around it. Not unlike how a vocalist holds a hum in practice, yet naturally pitchless.
[ Her threads stretch further, searching for the alleged mirror of its ilk. ]
no subject
As you described it, yes, it is not unlike how the eyes might trick the mind. For those who do not know how to properly apply the art of observation.
[man who will gas u the art of obseration every time, all the time]
Any data you can glean for me will be helpful, all the same. We can worry about accuracy later.
[She will sense, perhaps, that one of those threads will wrap around the faint form of a mirror... in the basement?]
no subject
I fear that this resonance it has is, unfortunately, nothing I can grasp more upon than what is at the surface. The combustion of an engine can seem as much magic to the threads as a stellaron harbored in a body. [ The hell is a stellaron? She quickly moves on: ]
Holmes, if I may ask. Have you taken the time to investigate the mirror which matches the one here? [ She gestures toward it as she steps closer to him. ] It does seem the piece of the puzzle that is not present.
no subject
It's all right, he can ask later. Her analogy is not completely lost on him, besides.]
I have not. [Raising his brows.] Though it has occurred to me to go looking, if I were in the company of someone who could locate such faraway items with more ease than I.
[Eh? Ehhh?]
no subject
It's such a wonderfully (un?)subtle way to make the request that she can't help the smile that, miraculously, touches her eyes as she regards him. A small gesture of the hand suggests she already has a mind for where they need to look.
Luckily, the route to the basement isn't so far off – stage right and a single turn to the left will take them to the somewhat creepy, narrow stairs down to the basement. There's spiderwebs everywhere. Can we stop the fancy weirdo from playing with spiders?! Well, since someone has recently passed down these stairs, yes, for now. ]
You should be looking for a beige sheet down here. I can't be certain it's the mirror in question, but its shape and size seem reasonably close.
no subject
[The brightness that reaches his own eyes is luminous, likely heard in his tone if not reverberating in his very spirit. Holmes is—as she no doubt has recognized—the type to get very excited about a case making promising progress, and he knew for a fact that her presence here would not go amiss.
That energy still does not dissipate even as they descend down said creepy, narrow stairs to the basement. He's wandered into worse places by far.]
In which case... [He adds in response to her description.] These eyes will need a bit more light to see by.
[At the bottom of the stairs, he sees a light switch, flicking it on as the room floods with brightness. It is musty down here; not unused, of course, though there are parts of the basement clearly ignored over others. But in the far corner, perhaps there is a large item with a beige sheet draped over it.]
This way, my dear.
[To the mirror(?)!]
no subject
There are certainly a great deal of props here, [ she comments idly, her head turning as if to "look" at her surroundings. ] And it's all quite dusty. I suspect a rummage sale would do them more good than most of these items do currently.
[ As she narrows on their quarry, she moves promptly ahead of him. It is wedged deeply between two tall and wide stacks of boxes. An easy object to miss, and suspiciously hidden! As she speaks, she hesitates to reach between the cracks to draw it out. ] This, however, seems comparably less dusty than that which is around it. And I fear out of my reach. Holmes, your arms are somewhat longer than mine, would you mind?
[ As a seamstress, it is incredibly important to be strangely in-tune with the exact measurements of every person she meets. ]