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Old 04-03-2004, 11:22 PM   #163
Diamond18
Eidolon of a Took
 
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Silmaril Siren Song

Merisu put her head in her lovely hands, her fair golden locks falling through her fingers to veil her disconsolate but equally lovely face. “It is not possible,” she said, as Soregum gave Leninia her points. “24 points for a superb double performance!” she echoed the slightly besotted words of the judge. “It is not fair!”

“Whoever said life was fair?” Earnur muttered, groping for his hip flask but coming up empty handed.

“Not even death is fair,” Vogonwë added, then thought that ”Whoever said life was fair? / Not even death is fair” would make a good opening line for their collective eulogy, The Lay of the Soul-Sucked Sapship.

Pimpi came upon them, dabbing at her lips (red as roses and full as spare tires) and smiling. “I feel much better,” she said. “I think I’m ready to perform now.”

“But it is too late, Leninia has already finished and received her score,” said Gateskeeper. “None of the spells I know can save us now. Alas and alack.”

“Alas and alack?” Kuruharan eyed him mistrustfully.

The Gateskeeper shrugged. “I may as well go out with style.”

“Mayhap it is not too late!” Merisu said, jumping to her feet with grace and élan, new hope overspreading her face like a flush of fever. “Go now, Pimpiowyn, and give it your all. Remember all that I have taught you, and ignore whatever Vogonwë has told you!”

“I protest, I—”

“Leninia received 24 points,” Merisu continued, taking Pimpi by the shoulders and steering her toward the stage, ”so you will have to get….”

“…16 points to tie and 17 to beat,” Kuruharan supplied (because as we all know he was very fond of numbers.)

“Oh,” Pimpi waved her hand. “Alright. Can do. I feel so much better, really I do, it’s as if—”

“Yes, yes, good, good,” Merisu bobbed her head up and down and gave her a little shove.

***

In the auditorium, the wights were getting restless. Soregum sat in the judge’s chair, wondering what would happen next and if he was going to have to execute someone. He had a vague feeling that he had done a terrible thing and botched the scores, but he couldn’t quite focus on the matter, distracted by the rumbling in his tummy. The wights began to chant, “Soul! Soul! Soul! Soul! We want a soul!” until he became worried, being the only living mortal he could see.

But then the stage lights dimmed again, and the wights fell into silence. They would have waited with baited breath, if they had any breath to bait. Soregum shifted in his chair, and heard it squeak.

Then from backstage came the rattle of a tambourine. For a moment or two it grew, then into the light stepped Pimpiowyn. She wore her gauzy red dress with the voluminous sleeves, flowing billowy skirt, and close fitting black velvet bodice with the complementary neckline. She had had to make adjustments to the dress, to accomodate her change in size, but had done the work gladly, not having been able to find the likes of Topfloorien style in Minus Teeth or the GAP. The jeweled necklace she had also gotten at Topfloorien glinted in the stagelights from where it lay bewitchly upon her collarbone. The wights gasped, and quickly began to plot how they could steal it from her. Soregum smiled, but it is questionable whether he was looking at the jewelry.

Pimpi usually wore shoes, like a proper lady of Soreham raised by Elves, but as she stepped into the light her feet were bare. The tops were covered with a light downy layer of curling golden-red hair. All her life she had hid her hirsute feet, even wearing socks to bed, but now she kicked them up with each step, dancing slowly toward the edge of the stage. She was not usually so graceful in her movements, but something came out in her then — one of those things that are wont to come out in unlikely heroines from paperback novels and roleplays — (no, not an alien) — Dues Ex Machinistic Character Twists.

She rattled her tambourine quietly as she said, “I would like to sing for you a traditional lullaby of my mother’s homeland, the Mire.” Then she smiled down at Soregum and twirled around as she stepped back toward the middle of the stage.

She raised the tambourine above her head and thumped it once, then began to sing in a dusky voice. At first her voice lifted to the rafters alone. But then from the deep, mysterious recesses of the auditorium came more ghostly voices — spirits that couldn’t help but join in with the rhythmic melody and the mesmerizing voice of the young half-hobbit, who showed a sudden solemnity and depth suitable to the occasion (which hobbits have a habit of doing.)

Go to sleep you little baby, Pimpi sang, swaying as she beat on the tambourine slowly.

(go to sleep you little baby) echoed the ghostly voices.

Go to sleep you little baby, she cooed.

(go to sleep you little baby) they purred.

They joined voices:
Your momma's gone away and your daddy's gonna stay
Didn't leave nobody, but the baby


Pimpi faced Soregum again briefly, but then turned away coyly, her curls twirling about her. She continued to dance and sing:

Go to sleep you little baby (go to sleep you little baby)
Go to sleep you little baby (go to sleep you little baby)


Everybody's gone in the cotton and the corn
Didn't leave nobody, but the baby


Everyone’s heartbeat (had they an actual physical heart to beat) was thumping slowly to the rhythm of the tambourine. One of the ghostly voices went “oooOOOOooooOOOOooo” in the background the whole time Pimpi and the other G.V.’s sang their lyrics (and take Soregum’s word for it, “oooOOOOooooOOOOooo” is much more effective when you actually hear it.)

Don't you weep pretty baby (don't you weep pretty baby)
Don't you weep pretty baby (don't you weep pretty baby)


She's long gone with her red shoes on
Gonna need another lovin' baby


Pimpi had reached the opposite end of the stage, and she turned back around, swaying and slowly highstepping her way back toward Soregum’s end. She fixed her gigantic blue eyes on him in manner that not even Leninia would have been able to rip his attention away from (had she been trying) and did not release him from her gaze for the rest of the song.

Go to sleep you little baby (go to sleep you little baby)
Go to sleep you little baby (go to sleep you little baby)


You and me and the devil makes three
Don't need no other lovin' baby


Go to sleep you little baby (go to sleep you little baby)
Go to sleep you little baby (go to sleep you little baby)


Come and lay your bones on the alabaster stones and be my ever lovin' baby

She stopped in front of Soregum, clapping the tambourine once above her head and rattling it subtly as she lowered it her side. Then all was silent.

A not-so-subtle whisper from the wings broke the spell after a few breathless moments: “I didn’t know they had poetry like that in the Mire. We simply have to go there, Meri—ow.”

(It was not Merisu who caused the untimely end of the sentence, as she was too gentle and good-natured to hit people. Orogarn Two had no such qualms, however, especially since his father had written back asking him what the reams of bad poetry that had arrived in his O-mail were all about.)

The spell effectively smashed, Pimpi smiled sweetly and curtsied, bobbing her curls. “It is a simple song sung by such as have not studied music or played fine instruments in great halls, as you have no doubt been used to, but I hope you enjoyed it. Goodness, I’ve worked up an appetite. Are you hungry? Can’t we all get something to eat?”

Last edited by Diamond18; 04-03-2004 at 11:31 PM.
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