fr33ks33k
Dream Eater
- Joined
- Oct 10, 2005
- Posts
- 13,080
Victor Valenti, or Vick as his friends had called him since childhood, had always had a knack for playing the violin. He received an old Stradivarius as a present from his grandmother on his fifth Christmas, and he had been playing it ever since. It was almost a given that he should earn a degree in music, and he found himself pursuing this goal at the prestigious Julliard School. His skill garnered him several accolades from orchestras the world over, but Vick never deigned himself important enough to join them. Mostly, he stayed in his small studio apartment, studying music theory and leafing through old books of music, finding obscure sonatas and concertos by all the old masters. It was his joy to master the pieces and delight in their sound, whether or not he had an audience. If one walked by his apartment complex on any given night, they would undoubtedly hear the entrancing melodies of Vick's violin drifting out of his often errantly-open window. His love life was meager, though he wasn't unfamiliar with female companionship. His true love was music, and all his relationships tended not to last longer than a few months. He was actually on the fairer side of attractiveness; short dark hair, strong facial features, and piercing gray eyes. He was just under 6 feet tall, and his figure was muscled but not overly so.
Unbeknownst to Victor, the violin he plays is a dark variation of the original Stradivarius model. It was designed by a diabolist of the Stradivari line, in a secret room beneath on of their manors. It was made in an attempt to play music compelling enough to summon the Devil himself out of the Pit and bind him to the violinist's will. Much of the history concerning this particular violin and whether or not was successful in the task it was created for is lost. Despite it's age, it retains a deep luster to the wood of its body. Vick chalks it up to his constant upkeep and tending, but in truth it would look just as good if he neglected it. It chooses to lose its perfect tune, allowing Vick to feel as though the strings need changed as normal. As with the body, the strings of the violin, once strung, are always perfect and need no tuning nor replacement.
In his search for more obscure music, Vick visits the New York Metropolitan Library and is introduced to the bounty of age-old scripts and texts in the stacks found in the basement. Amidst the ancient histories and illuminated manuscripts, he finds a book in old Italian titled Il Tomo Della Convocazione. Inside, Vick finds lots of old notes on violin construction, some of it written in an obscure dialect that he has no idea how to translate. The last few sections however, are filled with unfinished masterpieces of music. The only completed work is the last entry: Canto Convocare, a complicated piece that Vick cannot wait to attempt and eventually perfect.
And so the scene is set: A cold winter night in New York, no snow just bitter winds. There is variable cloud cover, and if Vick could be bothered to look at the moon on this night he would find it full and almost eerily close. His window is open as usual, even for such a chilly night. Settling into his playing chair and hefting his violin, Vick begins to play and it is as if the song is playing itself through him, each note arriving on cue from the last, the tempo slowly building as the song reaches a crescendo. So lost in the song, Vick does not realize the dark energies coalescing in his apartment. A rift to Hell is opening, a small pool of impenetrable darkness rimmed with a crimson crackle of lightning begins to expand right over his once-thick pile area rug. On the other side, a figure moves closer to examine this strange occurrence...
Unbeknownst to Victor, the violin he plays is a dark variation of the original Stradivarius model. It was designed by a diabolist of the Stradivari line, in a secret room beneath on of their manors. It was made in an attempt to play music compelling enough to summon the Devil himself out of the Pit and bind him to the violinist's will. Much of the history concerning this particular violin and whether or not was successful in the task it was created for is lost. Despite it's age, it retains a deep luster to the wood of its body. Vick chalks it up to his constant upkeep and tending, but in truth it would look just as good if he neglected it. It chooses to lose its perfect tune, allowing Vick to feel as though the strings need changed as normal. As with the body, the strings of the violin, once strung, are always perfect and need no tuning nor replacement.
In his search for more obscure music, Vick visits the New York Metropolitan Library and is introduced to the bounty of age-old scripts and texts in the stacks found in the basement. Amidst the ancient histories and illuminated manuscripts, he finds a book in old Italian titled Il Tomo Della Convocazione. Inside, Vick finds lots of old notes on violin construction, some of it written in an obscure dialect that he has no idea how to translate. The last few sections however, are filled with unfinished masterpieces of music. The only completed work is the last entry: Canto Convocare, a complicated piece that Vick cannot wait to attempt and eventually perfect.
And so the scene is set: A cold winter night in New York, no snow just bitter winds. There is variable cloud cover, and if Vick could be bothered to look at the moon on this night he would find it full and almost eerily close. His window is open as usual, even for such a chilly night. Settling into his playing chair and hefting his violin, Vick begins to play and it is as if the song is playing itself through him, each note arriving on cue from the last, the tempo slowly building as the song reaches a crescendo. So lost in the song, Vick does not realize the dark energies coalescing in his apartment. A rift to Hell is opening, a small pool of impenetrable darkness rimmed with a crimson crackle of lightning begins to expand right over his once-thick pile area rug. On the other side, a figure moves closer to examine this strange occurrence...