stairway to heaven [c]

[fionn]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,10,true] [atrb=style,width:320px,bTable] when all are one and one is all Alone, the plane descended from the clear night sky, the lady moon radiant in her blessings for the evening. Little else stirred but the subtle hum of the engine as it came to a slow stop. Fionn didn't waste any time beyond his curt thanks once they had landed. With his satchel bag and guitar case in tow, he made his way from the rundown runway towards the distant lights of the town's business district. It had nothing on the city, but it would do. It had for so many years. And then, of course, it hadn't. Nostalgia thick in his stomach, the stoic musician urged a song from his heavy lungs to tear it away. "There's a lady who is sure all that glitters is gold... And she's buyin' a stairway to heaven... When she gets there she knows... If the stores are all closed... With a word, she can get what she came for... And she's buyin' a stairway to heaven..." He had told no one of his arrival. No one would be waiting for it, not eleven years later. If there had been no grandious ceremony for his escape, there surely would not be such a scene for his return. Just as he had been led away by a dream, he, this time too, followed a plightful muse who had enchanted him in his sleep. Who haunted him as he navigated the empty streets, accompanied only by the dim lanterns who offered light to his path. He continued to sing. "There's a sign on the wall, but she wants to be sure... 'Cause you know sometimes words have two meanings... In the dream, by the brooke... There's a songbird who sings, 'Sometimes all of our thoughts are misgiven'..." Coming upon the familiar sign of the Baccar Inn, Fionn finally paused when he reached the porch. Adjusted the weight of the strap on his shoulder, peeked inside the closely drawn curtains. Appraised and judged those who congregated around the bar at this late an hour. "Oh, makes me wonder..." Even in the dead of night, making an immediate reservation was possible and pain-free. Not much more occupying half the rooms but cool air. Making his way up the stairs with his gear, Fionn managed to find his assigned room with ease. Upon entering, the door to said room merely stuck instead of closing, unregarded by the weary musician. Only the large traveling satchel was left on the floor. The guitar case, open, laid haphazardly in the middle of the floor. Artemis, cradled in the strong embrace of his arms, accompanied him to the bed, her neck pressed back against his shoulder. Together they looked out the window, staring yearningly towards the high peak of Lilium Mountain. Together they sang. "There's a feelin' I get when I look to the West... And my spirit is cryin' for leavin'... In my thoughts, I have seen... Rings of smoke through the trees... And the voices of those who stand lookin'..." In the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a lone silhouette, a fellow nymph who relished in the sin of moonlight. His lips perked into a satisfied smirk. "Oh, it really makes me wonder..." WORDS: 536 TAGS: zadie! credit to ALPHA of BACK TO NEVERLAND

[terra4]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true] notes here Earlier that day, Zadie had been seen thrumming along to an unknown song on her bright red bass guitar down at the beach. Later people had caught sight of her at the plaza, and then outside the city hall before being chased away by some grumpy librarians with no love for music, even though she wasn't even amped up. Right now she was nestled up in one of the more satisfacting chairs that occupied her room in the Baccar Inn. With a blanket wrapped around her feet, her hands gripped around a cup of tea, Zadie let out a couped up breath and let her shoulders sink into a comfortable stretch. It took it's toll carrying around on a guitar case. Before too long, a pleasant sound came from outside her door. The room was fully closed, but apparently the walls weren't soundproof - she would have to remember that for later - which let her in on the words that flowed from someone's beak. It peaked her interest, however, because the Baccar Inn never had any singing guests. Not that she had been aware of anyway. With a few easy movements the blanket was off and the tea cup perched upon the nearest tabletop. Zadie wanted to know who had felt the need, and the right to, produce such sounds. It didn't take her long before she was roaming the corridors of the admirable inn, trying to figure out where the sound was coming from. For some reason it was feeling rather nostalgic, but Zadie threw the thought away as she neared the marginally open door. Being the straightforward, and fearless, woman she was, a hand was extended to push the door open and get a grasp of who the person was. A guest perhaps? Or it could very well a perminent resident, just like herself. Someone new at least. The vision unfolding in front of her, as the door opened to fully give her the insight she so desperately wanted, Zadie couldn't have imagined in a hundred years. In a lifetime. Yet here he was, her brother, cradling a guitar. ZADIE SONNET

MADE BY HABBUE

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[fionn]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,10,true] [atrb=style,width:320px,bTable] when all are one and one is all Zadie had grown. Naturally, or as naturally as one could look with the various brands of ink marking her skin. Fionn was hardly concerned over the matter, despite his own disgust for the practice of tattooing. Upon recognizing her, hardly anything had stirred within him besides the tune which now spun inside his core. His eyes remained hard and set, true as steel in color and cold. Calloused fingers continued to dance along Artemis, caressing her strings and frets with with the only limited affection he was capable of. Within moments of taking in Zadie's features, a slow once-over in a moment, the sober musician was looking back towards the mountain in the distance. He had not dismissed her, as now the words seemed concentrate on her, conversing with his sister without actually doing so. "Your head is hummin' and it won't go... In case you don't know... The piper's callin' you to join him... Dear lady, can you hear the wind blow, and did you know... Your stairway lies on the whisperin' wind..." Beyond this small town. Beyond picking damn tomatoes or shipping milk. Fionn was beyond this life, as he knew Zadie was. The elusive wind had been the one to take him away, swept into that glorious beyond without so much as a goodbye. Was it the same wind that carried him back? That made him wonder. His song did not falter, voice strong and deep, his notes possessed by that very awareness, of the life that waited beyond. "And as we wind on down the road... Our shadows taller than our soul... There walks a lady we all know... Who shines white light and wants to show... How everythin' still turns to gold... And if you listen very hard... The tune will come to you at last... When all are one and one is all..." To be a rock and not to roll..." As he sang the final line of the hymn, Fionn imagined a woman before him. Not those who had occupied his evening rituals or even the long deserted sister who stood at the doorway. A crimson wave of hair. The last words were said rather than sung, dry and cold compared to the rich warm quality of his voice. One could hear the notes taper off in his throat, suffocated. A tormented end to his song. "And she's buyin' a stairway to heaven..." The heaviness of his tongue was that of lead, restricting on the silver instrument. Fionn set Artemis down on the opposite side of the bed, an idle hand rest on her side as he turned back to face Zadie. Still steeled, still set. Still silent. The silence said more than any words could. WORDS: 453 TAGS: zadie! credit to ALPHA of BACK TO NEVERLAND