[TF] Perfect Chord
Note: This is a formatted version of a roleplay log. Half of this text was not written by me, but rather by Pao Tu on F-List. Expect the quirks of RP-based writing to show up in this piece (such as inconsistent verb tenses). Both characters in this piece use feral anatomy. Synapsis is mute, and can only express herself with the projector crystal located on her forehead.
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Four flickering fires light the torches around the Tuva square - a ceremonial clearing of the Sy' Roa tribe, said to be a theatre for the birds above, and the gods even further beyond. Synapsis had wandered far enough in this dark forest, and her legs now ache beyond any other of the travels she had once been through. Some rest would certainly be welcome! As she curls in the center of the grassy circle, a shadow of red obscures the stars in the night sky. The tendrils on her neck bristle - this was not going to be a peaceful night. The wind chimes suspended on the tree branches all resonate in unison, signaling the grand overture. A sensor on her tail notices an imposing vibration right behind her back. She turns her head, ready to flash her brightest projection at this possible danger.
Pao Tu as always, was tasked by her peers with guarding the illustrious ceremonial grounds for her avian sisters overnight. Each phenotype of her species was present in the forest, albeit in few numbers. But of them all, the splendor and history of the Baile morph far exceeded the others. The poster child of the species, the most skilled dancers from birth, and physically the largest and most eye-catching. That was what gave Pao' Tu her vanity and spirited sense of tradition, and the fearlessness to confront the small creature that perhaps unknowingly set foot on sacred ground. Diving to the ground, spreading her red and black wings to slow her descent, Pao' Tu flapped once to kick up dust around the sky-blue creature and inform it of her presence. She expertly landed on her thin talons behind the intruder, her wings spread to her sides in a radiant half-sun of puffy down. Her eyes narrow, not bothering to wait for the critter to turn around.
"What brings you to the sacred grounds of the Sy' Roa clan? Have you come to learn the ways of our people?" Pao' Tu spoke, her chest feathers puffed out as the Oricorio made her physique as large as seemingly possible.
Synapsis staggers back upon hearing the avian's flamboyant voice. Her tendrils all simultaneously droop to the ground in shock, and her white eyes narrow shortly afterwards. This was not a wild beast, or a bloodthirsty savage - this was a distinguished tribal chieftain, and Synapsis judged wise to make a good impression. Who knew what their customs were? Did they cook disrespectful trespassers on hot coals? She was not willing to take any chances. Her composure regained, her eyes showing a hint of resolve, the little cyan critter decides to do what she must to prove her worth. A projection of Synapsis, coated in tribal fingerpainting and wielding a makeshift spear, flashes onto the damp grass. Then, she falls back on her rear, her tail rested against the base of a lit torch. What challenges would await her? As long as it didn't involve defeating this imposing bird in single combat, she was ready for anything!
Pao Tu wouldn't be phased by anything the critter could do to her, even though she was alone. Oricorio proved their worth in groups, as they possessed keen, instinctive, unmatched synchronization among members, particularly of the same phenotype. But even alone, Chief Pao' Tu feared no individual. Inspecting the projection, the bird swooped one of her wings in front of her body, crossing it over her chest, resembling some form of a toga. The other remained stretched to her side, seemingly reminding the smaller quadruped of the true potential glory of this species.
"My name is Chief Pao' Tu of the Sy' Roa tribe. Our ceremonies commence at dawn, traveller. We haven't much time before my sisters return. I implore you to bask in the splendor of our Alolan tradition. Let the elegance of Chief Pao' Tu spirit your soul." The Oricorio spoke emphatically, her pitch rising and falling as her words tapped at different emotions. It was natural for the tribeswomen to place such vigor behind each word. Pao' Tu took a step forward, twisting her body with great agility to reach her outstretched wing forward, caressing her heavy, warm feathers against the fine cyan fur of her audience. The touch lasted for only a moment, however, as Pao' Tu rose her wings for a full pirouette before chanting out a fast set of chirps, whether her partner could understand them or not.
Synapsis bends her head forward in an oriental salute, shaken by the depth and complexity that could be contained within a simple streak of bird chirps. Such grandeur! Such elegance! And this was only one of them! Surely, if Synapsis had the chance to hear the full tribal orchestra, she would faint in an overload of pure beauty. Her tendrils swaying back and forth to the avian's song, the cyan Axon reminds herself that she still has to somehow demonstrate her right of passage in this land - staying and listening idly would be a recipe for disaster! Why would this musical tribe allow one without talent to thrive here? Synapsis takes action by showing above her head the projection of sheet music peppered with a nauseating amount of ridiculously rapid notes. The label "Synapsis's Chorus" appears on top. Confident in her ability to accompany the chieftain in her song, she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, causing a red line to appear besides the first note of the virtual page. The seconds that follow would make any creature beg for deafness - a cacophony of mewling, squealing and shrieking stains the ceremonial clearing as the position indicator races across the sheet music. Synapsis's tendrils flail in agony, as if they had a mind - and ears - of their own. The sky-blue critter, completely unaware of her utter incompetence, finally silences herself, waiting for Pao' Tu's imminent approval of her majestic performance.
Pao Tu caught a glimpse of Synapsis's sheet music projection, but didn't waste much time looking at it. In milliseconds, Pao' Tu could tell that her newest partner's skills would not be up to snuff. Her breaths were improper, the reliance on her sheet music would sap the piece of all emotion, her posture could never flow into the elegant dance that a melody would be lost without. Case in point, Pao' Tu did not flinch or falter when Synapsis performed her part of the duet. Her musical instincts were perfectly tuned. Nevertheless, the Oricorio paused her recital about the same time as Synapsis. She crosses her puffy wings over her chest, her face reading an expression of slight disappointment, but not confusion. Pao' Tu never displayed any lick of uncertainty. There was never an unknown for the Baile Oricorio, as anything that wasn't recollected by her tradition and instincts was covered by her vanity. Her tail feathers lower, head tilting downward.
"Your screeching is disrupting our ancestors, traveller. That piece is a pillar of our species, and performed as a tribute to the lives of the Sy' Roa before us. Does such beloved history not strike your soul to perform?" Pao' Tu asks with a pang of offense, her voice rising as if the question were rhetorical. She takes a step closer, ready to continue her pattern of intimidation if this traveller was intent on desecrating her tribal land after all.
Synapsis's tendrils wrap around her neck and tail, hiding themselves in shame. How had Pao' Tu not approved of her "screeching" masterpiece? It was the tempo, wasn't it? It had to be. Or was it the octave shift in the middle of the Axon's performance? No, there had to be something she was missing. The chieftain looked so certain of herself! All she had to do was ask. There was some wiggling room for redemption - at least, Synapsis hoped there was. The sheet music projection lowers to the ground, and black pointers appear at various locations under the notes. A question mark slides from arrow to arrow, while Synapsis reviews her piece for any presence of dissonance. "Does such beloved history not strike your soul to perform?" she remembered. It did, but... Yes, that was the missing element! The Axon's tune lacked a soul. That feel for the music that elevated songs from a collection of scattered notes into true music. The Oricorio's sharp talon steps on Synapsis's projection as the avian takes a step closer, interrupting the little trespasser's thoughts. Gazing upwards into her judgemental black eyes, Synapsis knew her only hope at gaining the respect of the tribe lied in this Oricorio. She needed to be taught the piece's motion, rhythm and flow by a master of the craft. The sheet music dissipates, replaced by a quick sketch of Synapsis sitting in a classroom as Pao' Tu points at musical figures on a blackboard with her wing. The Axon tilts her head expectantly, waiting for guidance from the chieftain.
Pao Tu receives the answer she was hoping for and expected to hear. The chieftain uncrosses her wings, bringing them both forward to press their tips lightly against both sides of Synapsis's head, unintentionally concealing her projector for just a moment from nothing but the puff of her feathers.
"Let me guide you to our world, traveller. By dawn, you will swell with pride at the offer to sing with us together. Your soul will pound with adoration for our tribe. You are ready." Pao' Tu spoke with a tad less flair to her new student, instilling the gravity of Synapsis's decision within her. Taking a step backwards, Pao' Tu presses her feet together, pulling her wings back out to her sides and raising them to form a circle, the concentric rings of black feathers forming their full pattern. She waves her wings as if a gentle breeze brought her feathers to sway, and her wingtips dimly glowed from the embers that she naturally produced in moments of passion. Even for the Oricorio, this demonstration filled her with adrenaline and excitement. This was not a performance that many outsiders could witness. It tapped into the deepest desires, fears, and envies of its listeners, spurring on infatuation, awe, and sadness. It was also quite difficult, requiring a chieftain as talented as Pao' Tu to elegantly perform it. This was the Hula Pele of the Sy' Roa, a tribute to the endless fire that fuelled the unmatched passion of the species. With a gentle nod to Synapsis, the Oricorio steeped herself in the energy of the Tuva grounds and began her song and dance. She twirled and pivoted on her feet, occasionally taking flight for mere seconds, flapping her wings as they courted with flickering embers that she tossed across the ceremonial grounds. Her singing, much louder than it was during her first performance, poured out with grace and pride. After about two minutes of her performance, Pao' Tu stepped over to Synapsis, reaching out a fluffy, warm wing to her student, as if she were inviting the Axon to join her!
Synapsis accepts the chieftain's proposal without hesitation, her projector crystal spinning in place in excitement! As soon as fur meets feather, the Axon is lifted into the air, taken by Pao' Tu's untamed dance. A sudden gust of wind causes Synapsis's projector crystal to orbit her head downwards, until it becomes aligned with her mouth. The device jams itself in her maw, causing the Axon's eyes to widen! Struggling for breath, each of her attempts at an inspiration molds the projector into an increasingly longer and curved shape. A crevice spreads across the crystal's half, severing it into two attached parts, joined at the opposite end of Synapsis's face in a sharp point. This new beak reddens from pale blue to warm pink, and two holes appear symetrically on its top, finally allowing Synapsis to breath through these new orifices. The tendrils around her tail recede into her body, where as those on her head coil into two white spirals, which then fuse to each side of her head. Terrified by her shifting body, the Axon trashes in the air, only causing the pink in her beak to spill onto her face and body. The color of her skin harmonizes with the appendage, before reddening even further into a flaming ruby hue. Two streams of black stretch across her midsection, and two more around her tail, burning themselves into her body. With a herculean effort, Synapsis attempts to let go of Pao Tu's firm grasp, but only manages to pull out two symetrical wings out of her torso. As if to compensate for these new limbs, the Axon's frontpaws fall away into her chest, dissolving into the rapidly shifting mass of flesh. Her rearpaws are spared from a similar fate, instead reshaping themselves into talons by elongating each toe into a fearsome pink claw. The hairs covering Synapsis's body twirl on their own, joining each other into tufts of fur that soon lighten into delicate feathers. A tear escapes from the Axon's eyes, which shrink into two tiny white ovals. A black iris surrounds them, completing the Axon's conversion into a miniaturized clone of her dancing partner. A beat of her new wings allows the transformed trespasser to reach Pao Tu's height. Horrified by the height separating her from the ground, Synapsis the Oricorio lets out a melodious chirp, which resonates flawlessly with the chieftain's tune and motion.
Pao Tu retains a determined, almost somber expression as Synapsis's body fully succumbs to the ethereal influence of the dance. Pao' Tu pauses her song, flapping her wings with heavy, rhythmic beats as to align the duo's movements in the air. She stares intently into the eyes of her near-mirror image, assessing her physical transformation. It was quite a success, not more than a single feather differentiating the two. However, one major flaw remained - that traditionally dispirited, tone-deaf identity that was impossible to educate. It had to be removed.
"The Hula Pele of the Sy' Roa is best performed as a duet, Pao' Tu. While we still have moonlight, admire your form. Remember who you are. Remember who you will be, chieftain."
Pao' Tu herself did not feel hesitant to address her reformatted convert as such. The memories and mannerisms of that blue creature may resist, but the Oricorio's spirit would never falter. Every ember that lit up the air above the ceremonial grounds, every wingbeat, and most importantly, every memorized note of the Hula Pele would overwhelm and dazzle that conscious with the inescapable power of the avian's instincts. The influence, responsibility, and storied history of Pao' Tu and her tribe could surpass all, and she knew it. With that, Pao' Tu tapped her pink beak to her clone, and called out with harmonious glee in continuing her song...
The impact between the two beaks sends out a vibrating tinkle, echoing throughout the newly-formed Oricorio's body. She had done well to snuff out that speck of dissonance, replacing it instead with a repetition of Sy' Roa's most beautiful passage: Pao' Tu. The dancer swells up her chest in pride, exalted by her own song. Air flows through Pao Tu's lungs, increasing her size to match that of her twin sister. All pressure is released in a burst of musical ambrosia, resounding throughout the clearing into the hearts of the forest beasts starting to wake up. It would be foolish to think the Sy' Roa tribe had gained a new member today - for there was not two, but one dancer, physically split into separate parts yet spiritually bound by song. Each note, each sweep of the wings, each action was now perfectly timed, for Pao' Tu knew every detail of the Hula Pele of the Sy' Roa's by heart. This was knowledge gained through a passionate yet exhausting series of practice flights she had repeated throughout her childhood in Sy' Roa's noble and ancient territory, the finest jewel of the land. For a moment, anxiety coursed through Pao' Tu's heart - this moment was the apex of all song and dance ever performed. How could she live knowing it could never be topped? Serenity returned to her - as long as she and her twin sister would live, there could be no such thing as a greatest work. The extent of her skill would always allow her to surpass the most seemingly-perfect masterpieces; yes, even those created by her. Dance was the quest of her life, from her first breath to her last, and she could not have remembered ever pursuing any lesser passions than the art of motion.
Pao Tu flapped and stretched and flapped and stretched again, adjusting her altitude alongside her twin sister as the ceremony progressed. The two touched down to the ground, allowing for them to twirl each other around by the wings, tapping beaks and brushing tail feathers with unimaginably precise cohesion. As the new Pao' Tu grew to match Pao' Tu in size, the recital only became easier and simpler. Minutes bled into hours which flew off into the distance as fast as their embers, and the sun became to emerge from its horizon in the west. Dawn had arrived. Within seconds, dozens of Oricorio of all morphs filled the sky with dazzling colors, forming circles before descending to the Tuva square. Yellow, purple, orange, and blue wings all kicked up dirt at their landing sites, keeping their sacred grounds mediculously maintained. Pao' Tu and Pao' Tu found themselves in the center of the nearly five dozen Oricorio, all standing around them in preparation for their dance. The sight of the duplicated chief did not surprise the others, as this was a repeat occurrence. This was a powerful moment. At once, the two tribe leaders spoke, turning away from each other to brush their tail feathers together.
"Sisters, we gather at dawn to perform the Ancestral Tribute of the Sy' Roa. We will link our souls with the spirit imbued in us by our tradition! Sisters, Chief Pao' Tu implores you to commence!"
The clones were completely and utterly indistinguishable, and neither truly knew which one was the original. But their minds simply lacked the ability to consider such things, and any stray thought was quashed by the instinct to perform. Every Oricorio spread her wings out to her sides, raising them to the sky. Pao' Tu and Pao' Tu called out with a spirited chirp and the others followed. The Ancestral Tribute of the Sy' Roa had begun~