Day 9: The Red Cellist

Yesterday was so busy that I didn't get a chance to write the monologues, so I'm going to be writing 3 today and tomorrow to make up for it. After doing that last one just because I felt like I had to--and it being rather crap--I've decided that if I'm unable to do them one day, I'll just make up for it during the next few days. This is the post for the first monologue.

The image I'm using for inspiration is Sing Me A Line by HakanPhotography on deviantART.

I want to continue in a similar vein to my last one on Wednesday, which I really liked--so imagine this is a part of that setting, too. This is also inspired by the Greek legend of Arachne.

Character bio and background:
Allison was always ambitious. Having studied cello from an early age, along with many other instruments, her parents pushed her--perhaps a little too hard--to become the best. As she grew up, and came into her own, this became her own goal. Soon, she was unrivalled within the musical community; none could boast her skill. For a while, she was content.

When the Gods began revealing themselves, most were afraid--but not Allison. She sought out these so-called Gods, who claimed talents beyond mortal ken. They were elusive, however; fickle and whimsical, there was no pattern to their movements, and so she began to travel through the city in search of them.

She became so driven in her search that she neglected to realise she was becoming older. Years past, and though stories of the fey and gods whisked round the city like mice, she was always unsuccessful.

The gods were amused by her search, and every time things were looking hopeless for Allison, they would throw something in her path, encouraging her to continue.

So she continued, all the while playing, in the hopes that her music would draw out the gods she so desired to challenge. She played until her fingers bled, and the strings turned dark red, stained by her blood. She became known in the city as the Red Cellist for this reason.

The city had forgotten her, and her hair turned white, her skin papery and thin, wrinkles crowding the edges of her eyes and mouth. But her eyes never changed; they always burnt with the same fierce intensity, the ambition that drove her on. She could not rest until she had proven herself the most skilled.

She continued to search, and continued to age, until one day, her body would go no further. She laid down on the pavement, her cello beside her, and died, her life's purpose unsatisfied.

One of the younger gods--Ajalke--took pity on the woman. He gathered her withered body and made it anew, weaving in threads of fate, so that she would be able to play forevermore. He woke her with a kiss to the brow, and as she awoke tears leaked down her once again beautiful face. She clutched at his clothes, sobbing, and he was covered in confusion.

She had been at peace, finally, and he had woken her. She cries that she wishes he had left her be.

Furious at having had his help spurned, he drained the talent from her hands. She picked up her cello and tried to play, but the strings screeched cruelly at her. He disappeared, leaving her weeping.

Now, the Red Cellist wanders the city, immortal, always practicing and trying to regain the skill she once had. Hopeless and desolate, she has made it her life's purpose to warn people about the gods, and do her best to alleive the suffering of those touched like herself.

Emotional undercurrents:
There is a certain desperation to the way she speaks; words cascade from her mouth as though they cannot escape fast enough. She has lived a long, long time, and has experienced too much to be nervous; she is confident in herself, even if she does speak with a quick desperation.

Synopsis:
This is very much a sort of "what's your story" monologue. There's no particular setting or situation, she's just telling her story as outlined above, in her own words.

Okay, it's taken me all day, but here we are--now just for two more, groan. We'll see how I go.

Download Day 9: The Red Cellist