Anatomical Anachronisms: Chapter 5: Severed Resonance
She was giving a concert today.
Wing had turned even more closed off than usual as he went about his business. The spider had told him that if he didn't attend his ex-wife's performances, it would further sour his position among his fellow species, who were already irritated that he, their Count, could not stay with her. Gorthorn suspected, however, that Wing would have gone even if the non-confrontational, harmony-minded lot had suddenly changed and desired or tried to make him stay away.
The concert hall had been a joint project of the head scientist and several of his colleagues. They were carved out of the side of the cave, high above the towns, so that practically anyone could get a glimpse of them, though they were only made accessible when needed. He couldn't let just anyone have the spaces at undesignated times, or the sound would bounce around the hard surfaces of the entire cave relentlessly. Wing and his team had determined that the dimensions of their whole enclosement roughly resonated to a G pitch, so they discouraged people from playing pieces in that key too loudly, or advised softening those chords particularly.
Stoneworkers, with their ability to easily mold stone in and out of shapes, could adjust the dimensions of the smaller pockets themselves to suit whatever the musician had in mind. They laid out sheep wool as sound dampeners if requested. The echoing was something spiders in particular were very used to taking advantage of, putting long pauses in their music to give it a chance to reverberate and even sometimes attempting to quiet and sync or syncopate their own playing of the next note with the reflected sound. They called it a self-duet. Rarely did spiders play together with one another when giving shows; however, when dancing was involved, nearly all present did something to contribute. Spiders never gave dancing performances. It was a strictly social activity. Most spiders had a hard time staying put when watching other species dance. Wing had once compared it to watching someone eat cake and not getting any. Honestly, the his voice replayed in the king's head, I don't understand how any of you manage it.
He remembered the spider's young daughter Harper spontaneously breaking into a double step when clock chimes would play. The little girl would pout at the shorter hours. He chuckled.
As he looked out from his balcony, birds of all kinds were converging on the hall, forming steady streams of color and rustle. They could not get updrafts down here. But enough practice with telementaling allowed them to fly nonetheless in the dead air. Spiders, though they were mostly black and brown, could sport every color imaginable: that wide range was only matched by the birds, and their dancing was only matched by the avians' love of the music itself. Many of the dogs, cats, and other species could simply not see the appeal. Worse, a few of them considered music to be the purview of humans and any attention paid to it was tacit approval of humans at large. The chimera shook his head. Surely even the ones who genuinely wanted all humans dead could afford not to let that leak over into their opinions of fellow monsters for their own pursuits.
He had offered to walk there with Wing, but the spider smiled and told him apologetically that he was being taken by a bird friend of his. There were advantages to being small, he had winked, implying that he was to be carried.
So, the chimera meandered past the river that wound through their temporary home, leaving great squishy footprints behind him. Many people approached him to talk for a moment, though there were always those that looked like they would faint at the prospect of talking to the huge dragonkin, whether out of respect or fear.
He shook his head. You should know not to fear me when I'm just out and about, he thought.
As he looked around, he noted the sub-communities of species, much like the humans' diverse cities that had ethnic subpockets, though many would chafe at the comparison.
Maybe one day, everyone would be able to separate his personal life from his duties and training as a fighter, and his rougher moments. Maybe one day, all the species would mix more freely. Today was not that day, but he saw progress every passing year nonetheless.
He could look back on his long winding life and see progress already made, where these same things sent other chimeras without that benefit into long bouts of sadness.
Let us take the opportunity while we are down to turn to each other, grow closer together, not rift further apart
A line from a speech his wife had written for him crossed his mind, and his heart sent out a pang.
Then his next thought pierced him so hard he was glad no one was near him at that moment.
He'll never get to see that progress.
He was suddenly hyper-aware of the mud between his toes, the locked muscles of his legs, the heat bubbling in his belly. He struggled to breath correctly and stumbled in his step.
Images rampaged through him.
-his son's body, and the human standing over him-
-chasing advisors from the garden weeks later in fits of absolute rage for crushing a few flowers-
-his fellow dragonkin blocking the blindly thrown fire barrage that obliterated the matching yellow flowers just the same-
-roaring over a soothing cadence that remained unwavered until she had pinned him to his throne, with a strength of grip that clashed further with her sound. As he gave into it he flooded with shame, spilling incoherent apologies as she quietly reassured he would probably have to do the same for her later-
And you wonder why people fear you.
The spiders have done nothing to deserve the fear directed towards them. You have.
He focused on the cooling sensation on his feet and away from the unbearable pitch of his head.
"Not all dragons are uncontrolled like this," Gorthorn griped to Wing as he tucked his head into his elbow on his desk after the incident, "Eastern dragons aren't. But me . . . "
"They evolved in a different environment," the scientist countered.
"I suppose." He paused. "But I do have some of that cauldron."
"But your cauldron is mostly Western. From both sides of your family. You meditate every day. You'll crack it, Sire."
Finally fresh air got deep into him and he felt like he could recover some.
This was to be a fine night. The Duchess was an acclaimed performer, and he would do what he could to not taint her hard work.
He ran his paws over his elbows, willing his heart to stop hammering as he plodded on.
He climbed the newly formed stairway, other monsters giving the large part-lion wide berth out of plain logistics and not and social reasons.
He excused his way through the crowd to reach the stage. Posted on either side were the measurements of the space. Gorthorn had doubted that Wing's idea held any significance to those gathered, though the scientist had replied that plenty of species, bats for instance, had stronger discernment in hearing that could detect the differences of the resonance, like hearing music in a different key. It was exactly the same as providing a program, he said, and even snarked that maybe the uneducated would take an interest in the properties if so prompted.
Gorthorn rolled his eyes.
He spied the Duchess even when far off. She was hard to miss. With skin sporting an electric green and liberally spotted hands, she was dressed in a slightly darker green and greeting people with the restrained demeanor typical of spiders, yet contentedness rolled off of her in waves. Her daughter had inherited her straight hair and round, almost pudgy face, though most of the rest of her appearance was from her father.
The chimera was actually very glad to see her in such spirits. He wondered if it made Wing feel worse.
As he approached, her hexagonal placement of six eyes caught him and she waved. He could not see the extra two eyes yet.
He bowed prematurely twice and she smiled at the purposeful playfulness.
When it was his turn, she curtsied. "My King. Mighty is the paw that stays us all."
"And you are looking more well than I have seen you in a while. Does a particularly good arrangement have your soul alight, or am I in the good fortune of finding you happy no matter the occasion?"
"The second," she nodded, "Harper is manifesting some advanced magical abilities for her age, and I can't help but feel good for her, even if-"
She broke off, and the king didn't press.
They chatted a little while longer, and Gorthorn was relieved to hear Wing had already said his piece to her. Not only did it confirm that it didn't get in the way of her mood, he did not want to watch the inevitable hardness that always sat between the two as they went through the motions to be polite.
Everyone began to settle and quiet down as she took the stage. Placed in the middle was an instrument twice her size. Hollowed wooden tubes than ranged from a foot long to body length were arranged in a fanned pattern. It was a relatively new invention, as the previously nomadic spiders could not carry with them anything that weighed as much as it did. Smaller versions had been slung over shoulders. Some spiders insisted that their traveling instruments had more 'soul' than the grounded xylophone-like instrument, because they could be passed down as heirlooms and be attached to memories of journeys. But others, like the Duchess and her ex-husband, took it as an indicator optimism of the ability of monsters to thrive down here, and the 'peace' that enabled experimentation. The philosopher had written a short essay about it that was well-received among spiders and birds alike. The instrument in question could both be struck and channel air through telementaling. Neither it nor its predecessor could not in any way be blown like a pan flute, so it had to work that way.
With her bottom sets of hands, the green spider sent a current to play the first dramatic chord, and plinked out a melody and countermelody with the other two sets of hands. Any other animal attempting this arrangement for spiders would need two partners, but technically only one of them needed to be an air elemental.
The piece continued energetically, mostly rising runs that blurred the spots on her fingers. Then, as it reached a crescendo, she repeated several notes in a rhythm and changed the air chords under them more frequently.
Gorthorn though he could tell that there was no playing with or around the echoes going on, but the contrast of the sharper attacks of the mallets and the breathy accompaniment was a neat effect nonetheless. The music rolled over him, chasing away the vestiges of the effects of his earlier unexpected memories.
After she was done, the birds stood and crooned a well-known tune that they used to express appreciation, while the spiders clapped, sounding three times their number and easily making up for the wings that couldn't make the sound. A few even started to mimic the birds' rhythm.
Other species present cast weird looks around them at what, to them, was an odd response, but then loosened.
Gorthorn basked in his peoples' comingling and fleeting happiness.
A few days after the mood boost, he gathered enough daring to summon the spider.
"I have a confession to make, Wing."
"Yes?"
"The reason I bothered you about the men pairing up." He looked down, then walked around the desk to come up to the other man. He leaned, just far enough to exit a respectable distance.
The spider seemed to gather that something was up
.
"I'm attracted to you."
"Um. Well. I can't say the feeling's mutual, Sire, but . . . if you'd like to try courting, then-"
Gorthron shook his head. "Wing, we've known each other since we were boys. What would be the point of courting? That's in order to get to know someone."
Wing blinked. "True. The circumstances aren't the same. Uh. So. What do you propose, then?"
Maybe the spider would be up for a little fun tonight anyway. He had never convinced another man who wasn't already interested. But, there was a first time for everything. It seemed fitting that the doctor would be his 'first' in that sense.
In reply, Gorthorn reached out, stroked his cheek, and leaned in further.
"I guess this means you are going to repeal the law?"
Haha, looked like the doctor wasn't the romantic type. Why did that not surprise him?
"Now why would I do that? We just got done discussing letting them stay in concealment, and repealing it would have the same effects we were trying to avoid. People would start sniffing around, wondering why something suddenly changed."
"Oh."
He leaned in again and kissed the spider. He was delighted to find no resistance. They had to go very slowly since both of them had fangs. He took a piece of lip and gently sucked on it, running the tooth along it.
Then he started pressing his nose into Wing's neck. The spider shivered.
His paws traveled up the spider's chest and across the back of his neck. He gently began to undo buttons with one of them.
As he had intuited earlier, it was quite a project getting six different arms out his jacket and shirt. He wasn't thinking about it too much as he combined touching and tugging absentmindedly. Before he knew it, he had the spider tangled up, with his middle right arm halfway out, upper arm free, and lower one catching on the angle formed by the other arms that were still in their sleeves.
"H-here, let me," the doctor said, face burning in embarrassment, backing away to correct the whole mess.
Gorthorn didn't like losing hold. He circled around the spider- like a vulture or like stalking- some part of his mind provided unbidden- and commanded, "Here, relax them." The spider did as he was told, and Gorthorn pulled it off more easily from behind. Then he started working on the white shirt in a similar fashion, though it went much more smoothly. He kissed the doctor's shoulders as he did, slipping the cloth under his paws across his skin purposefully. The spider shivered under the touch again, and the chimera smiled at the reaction.
He briefly thought of standing back and admiring the now uncovered torso, but now more impatient, he faced the doctor again and resumed kissing.
The man was much smaller than he, but as the hands returned his affection he found that, though he looked like slim glass, there was some pushback. He had no weight behind him, but his hands' strength was more than he expected. Well of course. Humanoid spiders had to haul their weight up by strings. They were so good they made it look easy and graceful, too. Many of them also trained in chi point strikes. He suspected the spider could vice him quite easily, not disable him, of course, that was out of the question with his sheer bulk, but definitely cause some pretty intense pain.
Then he realized where his train of thought was running. It figured that even in doing this his warrior brain would be calculating something or other. Hands on him provoked a feeling of grappling nestled up next to the loving, if he let it go on. And that in itself could be arousing. Heaven knew his wife had gotten a charge out of it. But he sensed the smaller spider needed a softer approach. He was hesitant, Gorthorn figured both because he was faced with a much more powerful monster here, and he had just entered unfamiliar territory, with another man. He'd need to take the lead here, but, he went for another kiss to stop thinking about roughhousing or fighting.